Brave face of India

The Menin Gate memorial in Belgium is a reminder of the sacrifices made by thousands
of our countrymen who laid down their lives during the World War I. Seven out of 10
names engraved on the marble are those of Indians, and out of these, five names
are of Punjabis, says Lt Col (retd) Chanan Singh Dhillon

IT was my short, hurriedly conducted visit to the World War I memorial in Belgium in I994 along with some of the old British officers who served with the Indian Army. Later, when I was invited to attend the 60^th year celebrations along with World War II veterans in 2005 in London, I decided to visit again the historic Menin Gate memorial where thousands of our countrymen laid down their lives. The massive arches of the memorial beckons the visitor, and when one reads the names, engraved on the well polished marble, which reflects on the visitor’s face, one is overawed to read, as seven out of 10 are Indians, and out of those seven, five or six are Punjabis.

After World War II, the cemeteries of Somme, Passchendaele and Verdun are attracting a large number of visitors. Verdun memorial has the distinction where a French officer, Lt Harduin, who endured attack and bombardment that culminated in shelling their own artillery, was decorated in June, 1916. But later he and his men were executed because of default in the action. His widow threatened to sue the French Government, which relented and released all the benefits accrued to him, including the decoration.

World War II had been a terrible and infinitely more costly conflict. As the years go by, the whole spectre will haunt the visitor much more. Sadly, this time I was the only Indian visitor among the Europeans and Africans at the time of last post, which is a daily routine at Menin Gate.

Traffic towards the memorial from all directions on the roads stops, and pedestrians also join the ceremony when the retreat is sounded and make a point to join in a two- minute silence for the valiant soldiers who gave their lives.

Somme is a slow moving river. It winds its weed-choked way through the valley below, which is a rather dull scene to contemplate. The earth is heavy to work with, but is very rich in harvest. It is here that the trenches of the armies — British with a combination of colonial troops, French, Belgian and other small allies, and the German — are still preserved for posterity.

On the first day of the war the British lost 20,000 soldiers. The trench warfare remained almost static. For months there were no movements, except skirmishes between the probing or recce parties to measure each other’s strength. The troops had their entertainment places at the back, including prayer halls and what not.

Some compulsive innovative soldiers had grown flowers in tiny beds on the ridges of their defence lines. The trench warfare was deadly boring and horrifying, to say the least, as described by the soldiers in their letters to their kith and kin at home. The soldiers had to stand among their long dead comrades. Practically no movements were possible. Neither in the front nor in the rear, as it attracted fire from snipers sitting on vantage points of high ridges and trees along river banks. The evacuation of casualties was difficult. So the disposal of the dead was the last priority as they were of no use.

Sporadic shelling from both sides used to tear apart the bodies already lying in the trenches. Rats with long tails and burning red eyes moved along with the soldiers in the trenches as if they were also sharing the horrors of war. The soldiers had to suffer from lice for want of water supply, which was restricted because of total ban on movements. Even daily rationing was on a reduced scale.

The trench warfare depicted total failure of the human spirit. On the one side was a girl, who became a wife overnight when the soldier happened to come for a few days of break, writing that she was carrying his baby inside her womb and longed to reunite with him, plan a small home and the expected baby’s comforts. On the other side was the soldier writing back home to the young and innocent girl, compulsively narrating stories of horrors, that the other day they had a bayonet-fighting battle with Germans, and he had killed so many. God only knows how grievously the newly married wives suffered from within on reading the terrible actions of their spouses.

It may be mentioned that in World War I, Indians served on three main fronts — in France 1,39,000, Egypt and Palestine 1,44,000 and Mesopotamia 6,75,000. Out of these troops from India, more than 47,000 were killed and 55,000 wounded. A total of 13,000 were decorated, out of which 12 were decorated with the Victoria Cross. In France and Belgium, Indian troops were inducted into snowbound areas in PT shoes and summer dresses in the beginning. Most of the troops suffered from frostbite. Also, India provided the largest fighting as well as logistic force to the western and eastern fronts.

As we return after traversing the battlefield, the time for retreat and last post is nearing. We are given a cup of tea and hurried to converge below the arches of Menin Gate. The movement suddenly stops. As the last post is sounded by the buglers, locals heading for the memorial gate stand in silence where ever they are. We all stand in silence for two minutes and pray for the brave soldiers who died in the battlefields. Ceremony over, as we walk across the road to the pavement opposite, locals are eager to talk to me. I could discern from their faces that they are proud to be part of the ceremony. There was no lack of enthusiasm among the young and old, though the war had ended decades ago.

An old lady on crutches, with two children in tow, seemed to be her grandchildren, fervently greets me, saying: "You people saved us. We are proud of you that you sacrificed for us." I was completely overwhelmed by her grand gesture and deeply felt that my mission to the battlefield and Menin Gate had been fulfilled.

But suddenly reflections perked up in me concerning travails and tragedies confronting Indian soldiers on both western and eastern fronts. In India soldiers got pumped up by the surging Independence movement. The mutiny took place in more than two dozen cantonments.

Later, sadly, when I pleaded in a number of articles that all veterans of World War II should be treated as freedom fighters, my proposal, though welcomed by various readers, did not stir the consciousness of the powers that be, nor the Indian polity at large.

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