WHO ARE THE GURKHAS?

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 7, 10 April 1944, Page 13

WHO ARE THE GURKHAS?

By

(late Gurkha Rifles)

The romance of the Gurkha fighter has captured the imagination of the New Zealand troops in the Middle East as much as it had captured the imagination and affection of the British Tommy in every war, and in times of peace, ever since the days of the Indian Mutiny. . The Gurkha is generally classed as an Indian. This is incorrect, and no one would resent this classification more than Johnny Gurkha himself. The Gurkha comes from Nepal, an independent kingdom ; he possesses a King of his own and a country that is more forbidden to Europeans than the mysterious Thibet. Within the bounds of Nepal, half of Mount Everest rears its rugged shoulders, the other half is in Thibet, Like the great mountains of his country, the Gurkha takes a broad view of life. During a lengthy service with the Gurkha Rifles and a period as Military Magistrate near the frontiers of Nepal, I have learned to love and respect the Gurkha. He is a simple soul, a good friend, and a relentless

enemy. At the outbreak of the 1914-18 War the Gurkha Regiments numbered ten, of two battalions each, and the heavy casualties they were later to sustain made recruiting very difficult. These difficulties were only magnified ; they had always been great. The custom before the Great War had been for each regiment to send trusted Gurkha N.C.O.s into Nepal to exhibit their uniforms, exploit their medals, praise the British Raj (King), and extol their white officers’ virtues. No white man accompanied these N.C.O.s —the entrance of Europeans of any kind not being allowed. These recruiters would sometimes be absent many months and return each with a few recruits—hardly sufficient to cover the wastage of pensioners occurring in each unit every year.

There are six fighting castes of Gurkhas -—namely, Khas and 1 hakur, Magar and Gurung, Rai and Limbu. I have stated these in pairs because these pairs are

those who will serve together happily, and consequently the battalions are so comprised.

The rate of recruiting in peace, which was barely sufficient, was totally inadequate to cover the casualties of war. Lord Kitchener (at one time Commander-in-Chief in India) wrote a personal note to the King of Nepal asking special permission for British officers to enter Nepal for recruiting purposes. This request was refused, but the King offered to have a form of conscription in Nepal for the Indian Army. This scheme comprised the conscripting of every second son, it being the custom of the country that the first born son served in the Nepalese Army, a very considerable fighting force. So successful was this conscription that during the Great War 100,000 Gurkhas served in the Indian Army.

In addition to this great conscription scheme the King of Nepal sent 12,000 of his own standing Army, including his own bodyguard, the Khalibahadur Regiment, for garrison duty in India. This contingent saw service in the North-west Frontier and was officered by officers of the Indian Army as well as Nepalese. Whereas the old-time Gurkha came from the Province of Gurkha in Nepal, these conscripted Sepoys came from other parts of the same country. It was an experience to meet these recruits at Gorghpur near the Nepalese frontier. They had never seen a white face ; never seen a railway train ; and had never heard any other language except Gurkhali or Nepalese. They were long-haired, unshod, and, apart from a native blanket,

unclothed. The training of the Gurkha recruit is at first a difficult and lengthy process. The first thing to do is to teach them to walk, not march. So accustomed to hilly climbs are they that they walk in the manner of a man going up or coming down a stairway in the dark, who, when he reaches the top or bottom,, treads on a “ step that is not there.

Moreover, they have to accustom themselves to boots, to the wearing of which all Gurkhas are at first antagonistic. Once their walking is achieved their training goes on apace. They are natural soldiers. The hours which Indian troops spend in gossiping or gambling, the Gurkha spends drilling his mates and being drilled in turn by them, their voices faltering over the strange English words of command.

All words of command in the Indian Army are given in English, but convey nothing except sounds to the Sepoy. If you met a Sepoy in the bazaar and said “ About turn.” he would not understand you because there is no association with a military parade on the barrack square. The Gurkhas speak Gurkhali with many variations of dialect, and until a British officer can speak, read, write, and think in Gurkhali he is little use to the regiment, as all his lectures, instructions, and side commands must be given in the vernacular.

The language is a difficult one to acquire as there is no Gurkhali literature with the exception of one elementary childlike book called “ Barsakir,” which is the life of a parrot. The written language is phonetic and comprises many characters unknown to the British

alphabet, including such sounds as “ pbh,” “ bhd,” “ng,” and others too numerous to mention, but each of which have a character in the Ghurkhali alphabet.

I suppose the best - known attribute of the Gurkha, next to his inherent bravery, is his knife, called “ the Kukhri.”

There are many fictitious ideas about the use of the Kukhri, and Johnny Gurkha, a born legpuller, himself is responsible for some of them. One of these ideas is that every time the Gurkha draws his Kukhri he must draw blood. Another is that the Gurkha throws his Kukhri. These ideas and many other are false. The Gurkha uses his Kukhri for all purposes—chopping his curry-bhat, cutting his firewood, even shaving the parts of the body that in a

Hindu (which the Gurkha is by religion, although lax) are becoming. The story of the Gurkha throwing his knife arose in this way: LieutenantColonel the Hon. Bruce (of Mount Everest Expedition fame) was commanding a Gurkha battalion during the last war when the Gurkha had become famous because of the German dread of the Kukhri.

Col. Bruce was pestered by war correspondents for stories of the Gurkha for their newspapers. Tired out with answering questions and getting irritable, as senior officers do sometimes, he was asked the final question :

“ How do Gurkhas use their knife ? ”

“ Anyhow you damn well like ! ” said the Colonel. So the correspondent told the world next morning that the Gurkha threw his Kukhri.

The Kukhri is made in Nepal of native steel. It is brought down to a regimental depot as a pack on the backs of hill ponies—the only means of transport, with the exception of elephants, known in Nepal.

When they arrive at their destination a Board of Gurkha N.C.O.s has to pass each individual Kukhri. It is a lengthy procedure. A large, flat surfaced stone is prepared, and on this level surface is

placed a “ pice,” a copper coin about the size and thickness of a half-penny. The Kukhri is then raised in the air and by an effortless stroke, relying only on the balance and weight of the knife, is allowed to drop on the “ pice.”

To be a perfect weapon (and only perfect weapons are acceptable to the Board) the “ pice ” must be cleanly halved without a bend in the coin in any way or damaging the keen edge of the Kukhri.

One of the exhibitions a Gurkha will accomplish with his Kukhri is interesting. Obtaining a pole of hard and dry male bamboo about the diameter of a tea-cup, he will cut it so that it has a clean level end. The other end is staked in the ground. On the top of this stake he will place, up-side-down, a “ pill-box ” hat.

With many blows of the Kukhri a pile of shavings accumulates at the foot of the stake whilst the hat drops lower and lower without otherwise moving its position on the stake.

It is not only the Kukhri which makes the Gurkha the valuable soldier he is. He is generally a marksman with the rifle, he can stalk his foe unheard and unseen, and he knows no fear.

In appearance he is no beauty. His height, 4 ft. 10 in. to 5 ft. 6 in. in most cases, is out of all proportion to his breadth. He generally has an enormous chest and limbs in proportion. He is an ugly little devil, but “ beauty is only skin deep,” and “ handsome is as handsome does,” and one of his most redeeming features is his habit, both in peace and war, of chuckling his way along.