In a world of seemingly perpetual conflict to be able to depend
on an unwavering ally is beyond value. This is the special bond
between the British Crown and the Gurkhas. In a distinctly
un-British manner, therefore, the UK’s Home Office had ruled that
only some of the retired members of the famed Gurkha Brigades
could resettle in Britain.
The Home Secretary, while never using the word “mercenary,”
clearly implied that as loyal as these barely over five foot tall
Nepalese soldiers had been for nearly 200 years, they nonetheless
were not eligible for citizenship as were soldiers of the
Commonwealth countries — to say nothing of the millions of
British citizens and residents who emigrated from former
colonies.
The result has been, to use a British term, “a right cock-up.”
Joanna Lumley, the co-star of the television series,
Absolutely Fabulous, who was born in Srinagar, Kashmir,
India while her father was a serving officer in the
6th Gurkha Rifles, has launched her not inconsiderable
vigor into the campaign to challenge the government ruling.
Joined by other notables including her fellow actor Virginia
McKenna, whose late husband was a major in the 9th Gurkha
Regiment, Ms. Lumley has charged in the best Gurkha style through
Whitehall.
Wearing a pin symbolizing crossed khukuris, the massive
curved knife of the Gurkhas that is their regimental cap badge,
the dynamic Lumley, blond locks flying, sliced her way through
Parliament. A successful motion in the House of Commons for equal
right of residence for all Gurkha veterans and their
families certainly was energized by her efforts.
The problem was that the prime minister must sign off on this —
and so far he hadn’t. Off marched the “daughter of the regiment”
to confront PM Gordon Brown at 10 Downing Street. The dour
Scotsman obviously was outmatched by the wily Ms. Lumley and
initially folded — as any reasonably rational male would do.
Unfortunately, after the Lumley assault squad had left, Brown
immediately went back into hiding with the statement that he “had
to consider the matter.”
The “mercenary” aspect of these Gurkha forces that fight for “the
Queen’s shilling” is a circumstance not unknown to the U.S.
government. After the Vietnam War Vietnamese veterans,
well-connected civilians, Montagnard tribespeople of the Hmong,
and other indigenous folk who had worked with American forces
were shoe-horned into U.S. citizenship. Precedent had been
established with veterans of the Philippine Scouts who had served
as part of the U.S. Army during World War II.
It seems odd that the already weakened Labour government would
allow itself to be dragged into a controversy involving such
worthy servants of the Crown. It is understandable, though, that
there would be an element of fear involved in opening the door
for emigration of the “best and brightest” of the skill-short
nation of Nepal. As Edward Vickers, the grandson of a Gurkha
brigadier wrote, “…Inviting British (Army) Gurkhas to retire to
the UK rather than returning home, therefore risks unpicking
another piece of the extremely frayed fabric of Nepali society.”
The fact is, however, that British-trained Gurkha troops
repeatedly have participated in international peacekeeping at the
British taxpayer’s expense and to their honor. Everyone who has
served in a combat area with these small, indefatigable soldiers
has come away with a tale of special heroism. Perhaps one of the
least known is the story told me by the late Donald Wise, war
correspondent for London’s Daily Mirror, himself a
former officer in The Parachute Regiment, and survivor of a
Japanese POW camp in Burma.
A Gurkha company had been attached to the United Nations in 1961
to assist in securing the province of Katanga that had broken
away from the newly independent central government in
Leopoldville, Congo. The Gurkhas, however, had been restricted to
a non-combat role. They were specifically ordered not to fire
their weapons. The Katangese forces led by European officers
faced off against the Gurkha unit across what had been a golf
course.
The Katangese started the conflict by lobbing mortar rounds into
the Gurkha position. They wanted the Gurkhas to abandon what was
a key control point. The Gurkhas did not budge. After a couple of
hours and an accumulating number of casualties, the Gurkha
commander demanded of his superiors the approval to return fire.
He was simply reminded of his standing orders.
As his losses mounted, the Gurkha officer radioed directly to the
UN command in Leopoldville. The UN military in Leo repeated the
standing order, but said that they would query United Nations
headquarters in New York City. Meanwhile, the men of the Gurkha
company, many raw recruits in their first combat, hunkered down
in their foxholes totally exposed to the intermittent but deadly
Katangese bombardment. They fired not one shot in return.
At the end of nearly five hours of incoming fire the word finally
came from the UN via New York and Leopoldvile that the Gurkhas
had permission to return fire. The order to unsheath their
khukuris was given; the Gurkha company charged across
the golf course scattering Katangese in whole and in parts on the
other side of the fairway. The Katangese scrambled away from
their adversary that they had heavily outnumbered — though the
odds were considerably reduced by the time the Gurkhas regrouped.
The discipline and courage of the many scores of years of service
was in their genes then, as it remains today. One of the two
Gurkha battalions still in the British Army rotates with its
brother battalion in Afghanistan today. These extraordinary
soldiers, sons of those who have gone before and fathers of those
who will follow, should not be forgotten by the government they
so loyally serve.
In the First World War Sir Ralph Turner, MC, 3rd Queen
Alexandria’s Own Gurkha Rifles, said it best:
“… Uncomplaining you endure hunger and thirst and wounds, and at
the last your unwavering lines disappear into the smoke and wrath
of battle. Bravest of the brave, most generous of the generous,
never had a country more faithful friends than you.”
