New In Nagaland

(CONCLUDING PART)

The war that changed India and the world had one of its history-changing battles take place in the sprawling hills of Kohima. Across from the Kisama show-case village built in 2003, is the War II Museum. Curated by the Imperial War Museum, London, here is a well-laid out permanent exhibition with strong visuals, maps and models and informative text that informs the visitor of the men, machineries, strategies and horrors of war. The Japanese Imperial Army was pushed back from the North-eastern gates of India by the Allied Forces in the Asia-Pacific theatre of World War II. The exhibition covers the myriad of military, political, supply, economic and social aspects of Kohima's strategic position and the most grueling campaigns in the global undertaking. One could not but become immersed in the momentous churning human grind of war. To mind came the prophetic words of Theodore Dreiser in 'A Traveller at Forty' (1913). "When one turns forty and faces one's first transatlantic voyage, it is a more portentous event that when it comes at twenty." We were all aged mid-60s plus…

Some momentous historical declarations by key players in the World War II eastern front 'Kohima Remembered' are there for us to ponder over:

In the words of Viscount Mountbatten, Supreme Allied Commander SE Asia.  'The Battle of Kohima will probably go down as the greatest battle in history. It was in effect the Battle of Burma.' 'He often addressed troops during the Burma Campaign with wit and humour, assuring those that they were not 'The Forgotten Army' – rather no one had even heard of them.'

Lt. General William Slim popularly known as 'Uncle Bill' declared: 'Both meant it to be decisive and so did we.' He commanded the Burma campaign and was acclaimed 'The first general World War Two produced' by Mountbatten.

On 15th February, 1944, Subhas Chandra Bose addresses the I.N.A troops with a 'Special Order of the Day.'  'Comrades, Officers and Men of India's Army of Liberation. Let there be one solemn resolve in your hearts – Either Liberty or Death. Let there be one slogan on your lips – Onward to Delhi.'

On 18th February 1944, Lt. General Renya Mutaguchi issues his own Order. "The Army has now reached a stage of invincibility and the day when the day of victory in India is not far off…Both officers and men must fight to the death for their burden of duties which are the lot of the soldier of Japan. The will of the Emperor and our countrymen must be fulfilled."

On 23rd February 1944, Charles Pawsey, the British District Commissioner gives the officers of the battalion a farewell cocktail party in his bungalow. This is the last social occasion to be held there.  An officer, Peter Steyn, later wrote about 'the beauty of the garden, the evening sunlight outside and the laughter and good fellowship inside the bungalow.' A photograph accompanies the write-up. It is the same bungalow that we visited as 'The Heritage.'

Arthur Campbell, in 'The Seige: A Story from Kohima' wrote: " In March 1944, the Japanese armies in Burma set forth to invade India…The only all-weather road over the mountains ran through Imphal (Manipur) Kohima to Dimapur where it joined the Ledo railway. These three small towns were held by British and Indian soldiers. The Japanese, basing their operations on this road, and first cutting the garrison in Imphal directed their famous 31st Division to Kohima and Dimapur. By the 5th April the Japanese had surrounded Kohima and were fast moving in on the garrison of some 2000 Indians most of them administrative troops classified 'non-combatants.'

By May 1945, it was all over. And we stood there solemnly some seventy-one years on to the day.

Kohima Cathedral dominates the densely built-up urbanized hill slopes. In a tribute to the fallen World War II dead, the religious edifice encapsulates Naga inspired aesthetics. The architectural landmark completed in 1991 with its soaring roof is the largest in North-east India. Beautiful stained glass windows add to its serene and solemn inner beauty. The sixteen foot wooden crucifix is said to be the largest in Asia. In response to a question as to how an imposing Catholic cathedral stands tall when the majority of the population are Baptist Christians; the response was that much of the funds were provided by Japan and Italy – the defeated Axis Powers in World War II. In a meaningful act of reconciliation, Kohima Cathedral is the venue for meetings of Japanese and British war veterans. Here it is written: 'not a mere memory of war but also the healing place of the war memories, the real need.' Here is an inspirational symbol that is the negation of the Latin phrase: 'Damnation memoriae' (cancelled from memory).

Prior to setting foot in Nagaland, I only knew that there was an Allied forces cemetery in a place named Kohima. It was my 'known' destination. Yet our four days of travel in the state enriched us – journeys that excited curiosity and challenged the mind. The unknown and unexpected were encountered at every turn. Much truth in the aphorism – 'delight in the journey and not just anticipate the destination.' Back home I thought it appropriate to delve into 'Zen and the art of travel' by Eric Chaline. And to contemplate the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson: 'The difference between landscape and landscape is small, but there is a great difference between the beholders.'

Ultimately, we stood at the base of the earlier known Garrison Hill which had at its top plateau the former British District Commissioner's tennis courts. We were standing in front of the 'Kohima Epitaph' – the historical site of the grim trench warfare. We stood in silent tribute before the Kohima memorial:

'When you go home tell them of us and say for your tomorrow we gave our today.'

The multi-terraced and multi-faith cemetery is maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. The meticulously maintained green grandeur is an eloquent memorial to the 1,420 Allied War dead. Some of the tablets read:

A Soldier of the 1939-1945 War – 'Known unto God'

J.H. Anthony, aged 28, of The Royal Welsh Fusilliers

None but those who know can tell

What is a parting without farewell

Sepoy Sher Afzal, aged 19, of the 14th Punjab Regiment

Majority of the memorial plaques bear testimony to the tender ages of the fallen. Most of the dead were in their twenties. A memorial cross is located atop the hill amidst the redrawn lies of the tennis court. Further ahead lie many memorial slabs in a Muslim section of the Allied War cemetery. The names of the Hindus and Sikhs who were war fatalities and whose remains were cremated appear in a large black marble plaque: 'In honour of these officers and men who died in battle and whose mortal remains were committed to fire.'

From atop the Kohima cemetery; below us in the valley and across the horizon of hills buzzes every indicator of the hustle and bustle of humanity. On the rooftop of a building in the distance, a billboard has on it written 'Tashi Delek' – the Tibetan words so meaningful to the setting. 'May all auspicious signs come to this environment.'

Raana Haider is a writer and a travel enthusiast.