Famous Fights of Indian Native Regiments

by Reginald Hodder

The Gurkhas, or Gurkhalis, claim descent from the Ranas of Udaipur in Rajputana. Long ago, when they were driven out of their own country by the Mahomedan invasion, they sought refuge in the mountainous tracts about Kumaon. From this point they gradually began to invade the country to the eastward, as far as the city of Gurkha, Noakote, and ultimately the valley of Nepal, and even Sikkim. It was only when they attempted to force their way southwards that they were met and repulsed by the British. The Treaty of Seganli, which put an end to the Gurkha War of 1814, set a definite limit to their territorial expansion.

In general character the Gurkha is bold and self-reliant. On his gentler side, while extremely independent and self-centred, he is frank, faithful, and capable of fine, heroic loyalty. All his ideas of war and sport are modelled on European ideas. Though resembling in many ways the little Jap, he is built on far sturdier lines. As a humorist once remarked of his race: "They are 5 feet high in some places, and 5 feet round in others." Their movements in attack resemble lightning rapidity as nearly as anything human can. Essentially a phlegmatic race, they are supposed to lack sentiment and emotion, but education and touch with Western civilisation have proved to a great extent that these qualities were potential. In many ways they have been brought out as true sentiment and emotion of the steadier and more genuine kind. This fact, with their natural gaiety of disposition and their good-humoured carelessness of good or evil hap, is no doubt the reason that they make such fine soldiers. There is no grumbling on the part of the Gurkhas.

The Gurkha in battle is terrible, and almost weird in his methods. His ways are the ways of no other living soldier. And this brings us to a consideration of that remarkable weapon, the kukri. It is a heavy, curved knife, as sharp as a razor, and its drawing cut, inflicted with much skill and little force on anything in motion, has terrible effects. For instance, the intrepid Gurkha will wait for the tiger of the jungle to spring, and then, at the right moment, will step aside, leaving his deadly knife to follow the movement of his arm across the tiger's throat.

This wonderful knife, which the Gurkha loves as the British gunner loves his gun, has a small hilt, such as is common to all Indian swords. The blade is about nine inches long, and has a point as sharp as a needle. Both the hilt and the blade are curved, so that the weapon does equally well for the drawing cut or the thrust. Owing to the extreme thickness of the broad blade the weapon is remarkably heavy—a property devised obviously for the purpose of gaining the full force of inertia when the kukri is wielded by the dexterous hand and wrist of the Gurkha. One authority on this weapon says that the weight of the razor-edged blade would drive it half through a man's arm if it were only allowed to fall from a little height. One can imagine, then, the terrible effect if used for the drawing cut of the broad-sword. In the Gurkha's experienced hand its sharp edge carves through both bone and sinew, proving it to be a weapon as formidable as can be conceived. The method of this little warrior with the kukri, then, may be described as an inhibition of force and an exhibition of skill, for by means of it he will quickly cut to pieces any man of gigantic strength and build who does not understand his mode of attack.

Many years ago, during the conquests on which we founded our Eastern Empire, our men frequently came into clash with the Gurkhas. In those days they were, as enemies, as formidable as they are to-day invaluable as brothers-in-arms. Here is a description of one battle incident in which we suffered severely at their hands: "Brave as lions, active as monkeys, fierce as tigers, the wiry little men came leaping over the ground to the attack, moving so quickly and keeping so far apart from each other that rifle fire was of little use against them. When they came near our soldiers they suddenly crouched and dived under the bayonets, striking upwards at our men with their kukris and ripping them open with a single blow, then darting off as rapidly as they came." Until our men learnt this mode of attack they were greatly discomfited by their little opponents, who got under their weapons, cutting or slashing with knives as sharp as razors, and often escaping unhurt from the midst of the bayonets.

In all the history of invasion and conquests, of floating dynasties and mushroom empires in the East, the most sanguinary chapters deal with the British subjugation of the Gurkhas.

At a time when the Gurkhas were only some twelve thousand strong their reputation as fighters stood high. Many a time and oft had they raided neighbouring territory, carried off cattle, and even extorted tribute, so that at length the British authorities realised that there was only one course to take, and the message was sent to the bold Gurkha Chief: "Keep within your own territory or beware of the consequences." But this ultimatum was treated with scorn by the Gurkhas. Their haughty spirit could not brook such a demand. Hot blood seethed in their veins, and hot words were spoken at their council meetings. Their natural warlike spirit rose to the occasion and they declared war.

That war of 1813-14, and that conquest of a truly warlike race, form a record of one of the most heroic achievements of the British Army.

Nepal, the home of the Gurkhas, is situated on the slopes of the Himalayas. Its natural barricade on the north is a mighty line of peaks soaring against the sides of heaven up to the roof of the world, covered with everlasting snow. In front and to the south dense forests protect it from the approach of an invading host. Terrible were the difficulties and hardships of our men in these forests. Despair almost drove them back, while the prospect of utter failure seemed to stare them in the face. But, as if in a forlorn hope, our men went on, toiling and moiling towards the borders of Nepal; and, with the tenacity that saves every hopeless situation, gained at length the walls of Kalanga.

The fort held out for a long time, but fell at length, though not until the heroic garrison of six hundred had been reduced to seventy. It was here that brave General Gillespie fell as he was cheering his men forward to a fruitless attack. At the outset he had reckoned upon an easy conquest, but owing to the staunch resistance of the Gurkhas, reinforced by their natural advantages, he found the greatest difficulty.