CHAPTER XXV.
V.C. HEROES OF THE INDIAN FRONTIER.
The closing years of the eighties and the opening years of the nineties saw a good deal of fighting at different places on our Indian frontier. Through internal dissensions or the interference of some foreign power, some of the turbulent hill tribes were in a state of continual ferment, and order had to be restored within their boundaries by force of arms.
In 1888 there was trouble in Upper Burmah. The Karen-ni, or Red Karens, who form a group of semi-independent tribes down by the Siamese border, took to dacoiting again in a bold manner. An expedition was accordingly sent into their district, with the result that the disturbances were quickly quelled. This “little war” comes within the scope of this book for a notable display of devotion on the part of an Army doctor which gained him a V.C.
With the Indian troops that went into action against the Karens near Lwekaw on New Year’s Day, in 1889, was Surgeon (now Lieutenant-Colonel) John Crimmin, of the Bombay Medical Service. He soon had an opportunity for putting his skill to some use, for several of the Bombay infantrymen were bowled over by the dacoits. Regardless of his own danger, the surgeon proceeded to kneel by the fallen men’s sides and dress their wounds.
In the bamboo clumps very near to him the Karens were being chased and cut down by the troops, but now and then a red-turbaned, red-robed figure would peep out of a patch and take a flying shot at the doctor. Luckily for him and his patients, they were poor marksmen.
Having joined the firing line again, Crimmin made himself useful with his revolver. Not for long, however; the Red Karens are savage fighters, and our sepoys had to pay for their victory dearly. The surgeon was very soon busy once more, bandaging shot wounds and knife cuts.
A mounted sepoy had been told off to stand by him, but he was slight protection. At one time the surgeon was set upon by nearly a dozen of the enemy, who leapt out of the bamboos upon his right with wild yells. Dropping his lint and bandages, Crimmin whipped out his sword, ran the first man through, and was hard at work with another while the sepoy dropped a third. This warm reception disheartened the Karens, and with a parting shot or two they disappeared as quickly as they came. Then the surgeon coolly went on with his work, the wounded men murmuring many a “God bless you, doctor sahib,” as he bent over them.
The winter of 1891 is memorable for the brilliant little Hunza-Nagar campaign, which was brought about by Russian intrigues with the rulers of some petty states on the northern frontier of Cashmere. In the storming of the mountain strongholds in Hunza and Nagar three V.C.’s were won, by Lieutenant Guy Boisragon, Lieutenant John Manners Smith, and Captain Fenton John Aylmer, while many more were earned.
The most striking event in Indian history of that year, however, was the revolt in Manipur, where the British Resident, Mr. Frank St. Clair Grimwood, and other Europeans in the capital were brutally murdered. In connection with this tragedy a young officer attached to the 2nd Burmah Battalion of the Punjab Infantry, Lieutenant Charles J. W. Grant, performed a dashing deed which made him talked of far and wide as “the hero of Manipur,” and added his name to the list of those decorated “for Valour.”