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The Indian Army and the End of the Raj

The partition of British India in 1947 resulted in the establishment of

the independent states of India and Pakistan and the end of the British
Raj. The decision to divide British India along religious lines caused
widespread upheaval and communal violence in the period leading up
to and following the official day of independence, 15 August 1947. In
this book, Daniel Marston provides a unique examination of the role of
the Indian Army in post-Second World War India. He draws upon
extensive research into primary source documents and interviews with
veterans of the events of 1947 to provide fresh insight into the vital part
that the Indian Army played in preserving law and order in the region.
This rigorous book fills a significant gap in the historiography of the
British in India and will be invaluable to those studying the British
Empire and South Asia more generally.

d a n i e l m a r s t o n is Professor of Military Studies in the Strategic and

Defence Studies Centre at the Australian National University. He is
also the Principal of the Military and Defence Studies Program at the
Australian Command and Staff College in Canberra, Australia. He has
been a Visiting Fellow with the Oxford Leverhulme Programme on the
Changing Character of War. His ﬁrst book Phoenix from the Ashes, an
in-depth assessment of how the British/Indian Army turned defeat into
victory in the Burma campaign of the Second World War, won the
Templer Medal in 2003. He completed his doctorate in the history of
war at Balliol College, Oxford University, and is a Fellow of the Royal
Historical Society.

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Cambridge Studies in Indian History and Society 23

Editorial Board
C. A. BAYLY
Vere Harmsworth Professor of Imperial and Naval History, University of
Cambridge, and Fellow of St Catharine’s College
RAJNARAYAN CHANDAVARKAR
Fellow of Trinity College and Lecturer in History, University of Cambridge
GORDON JOHNSON
President of Wolfson College, and Director, Centre of South Asian Studies,
University of Cambridge

Cambridge Studies in Indian History and Society will publish monographs

on the history and anthropology of modern India. In addition to its primary
scholarly focus, the series will include work of an interdisciplinary nature which
will contribute to contemporary social and cultural debates about Indian history
and society. In this way, the series will further the general development of
historical and anthropological knowledge and attract a wider readership than that
concerned with India alone.

A list of titles which have been published in the series can be found at the end of the book.

Daniel Marston
The Australian National University

Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.

It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of
education, learning and research at the highest international levels of excellence.

www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521899758
© Daniel Marston 2014
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception
and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements,
no reproduction of any part may take place without the written
permission of Cambridge University Press.
First published 2014
Printed in the United Kingdom by Clays, St lves plc
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data
Marston, Daniel.
The Indian Army and the end of the Raj/ Daniel Marston.
pages cm. – (Cambridge studies in Indian history and society)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-521-89975-8 (Hardback)
1. India. Army–History–20th century. 2. India–History–1947– 3. India–
History–British occupation, 1765–1947. 4. Decolonization–Social aspects–
India–History. 5. Social conﬂict–India–History–20th century. 6. Internal
security–India–History–20th century. 7. Civil–military relations–India–
History–20th century. 8. India–History, Military. I. Title.
UA842.M325 2014
355.009540 09044–dc23
2013036444
ISBN 978-0-521-89975-8 Hardback
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of
URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to in this publication,
and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain,
accurate or appropriate.

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Contents

List of illustrations page viii

List of maps ix
Acknowledgements x

Introduction 1
1 The bedrock of the Raj: the Indian Army before 1939 6
2 The performance of the Indian Army in the Second World War 45
3 Question of loyalty? The Indian National Army and the Royal
Indian Navy mutiny 116
4 The Indian Army in French Indo-China and the Netherlands
East Indies 1945–1946 151
5 1946, the year of difﬁculty: internal security and the rise of
communal violence 200
6 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army in
the midst of chaos 239
7 1947: the year of reckoning and the end of the Raj 281
Conclusion: The end of the British Indian Army 338

Bibliography 352
Index 375

vii

2.1 Victorious soldiers in the North African campaign page 50

2.2 Indian troops on the move in Italy 60
2.3 Indian troops in central Burma 65
2.4 Defeat into victory 72
2.5 Announcement of the Japanese surrender in Singapore 114
4.1 Indian troops arrive in Saigon in 1945 159
4.2 Indian troops take cover from Indonesian nationalists, 1945 176
4.3 Indian troops identify mass graves in Java 177
4.4 Indian troops in Sourabaya counter-attack 179
5.1 Calcutta riots, 1946 216
6.1 Lord Wavell and General Claude Auchinleck meet with
Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery in New Delhi 240
C.1 End of the Raj 338

viii

3.1 India 1945–1947 page 116

4.1 20th Indian Division in and around Saigon 151
4.2 Operations in Java 1945–1946 175
5.1 Eastern Command 1946–1947 200
7.1 Punjab 1947 and the communal breakdown 281

There are many people to thank in support of this book. The first group
includes three of my key mentors, Professor Robert O’Neill, Professor
Raymond Callahan, and Professor Judith Brown. All three have been
instrumental in the preparation and production of this book, going back
to 2001, when the first foundations of the book were laid out. I would like
to thank Professor Sir Hew Strachan for his support and mentorship in
earlier iterations of the book and for accepting an article framing the book
for publication in his War in History series. I would also like to thank
Professors Ayesha Jalal and Ian Talbot for feedback in the early stages of
the research and shaping of the book.
I would also like to thank Dr Carter Malkasian for his thoughts and
edits; we have worked together on many projects going back to our time
at Oxford as doctoral students, and as always, Carter took the time to
provide advice and criticism. I wish to thank Professor Peter Dennis, who
kindly took time to read the chapter dealing with the Indian Army’s
involvement in French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies.
Cambridge University Press has been great to work with over the last
few years. Marigold Acland originally agreed to commission the book
and shepherded the project through the early stages. Lucy Rhymer took
over the contract and has provided excellent support through the latter
stages. I would also like to thank Claire Poole for all her contributions in
the final production of the book. It has been a pleasure working with
everyone at the Press. Thank you to Karen Anderson Howes for her
excellent copy-editing.
I would like to thank all my colleagues at the Strategic and Defence
Studies Centre (SDSC), The Australian National University for their
support, particularly the Head of Centre, Dr Brendan Taylor. Brendan
helped organize a seminar to hone various themes and, importantly,
provided funding for the photos and maps. Kay Dancey and Jennifer
Sheehan from the ANU Digital Hub created the maps for the book; and I
thank them for all their support and hard work. I would also like to thank
my former colleagues at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS)
x

and the US Army Command and General Staff College (CGSC) at Fort
Leavenworth for their input and support, especially Dr Nick Murray and
Dr Mark Hull.
My students at RMAS, CGSC, and SDSC are all owed a thank you as
well. As I corrected and edited their work, I relearned quite a bit, and it
made my manuscript a stronger product. I would especially like to thank
my Art of War students at CGSC: Ken, Mac, Matt, Carrie, Karsten,
Mike, Travis, Jesse, Nate, Mark, Rob, Rick, Ben, Dustin, Aaron, Tom,
Mike, Stew, Eric, Marcus, Darrell, Wil, Chris, Tom, Kevin, Mark,
Darrell, and Chuck, all of whom made me a better historian and a critical
thinker. Finally, I would like to thank the Australian Command and Staff
College Class of 2013. It has been an honour and pleasure to have taught
all of these students; their thirst for knowledge and motivation to apply it
have challenged me to focus my own work.
I would like to thank all the librarians and archivists at the various
libraries throughout the United Kingdom, the United States, and
Australia who have aided my search for obscure records of the final phase
of the British Indian Army. In particular I would like to thank the
National Archives in the UK, the Oriental and India Office Reading
Room at the British Library, the Liddle Hart Centre at Kings College
London, the National Army Museum, Imperial War Museum, and the
John Rylands Library at the University of Manchester. Grateful acknow-
ledgement is also made to these archives, cited throughout the book, for
their kind permission to quote extensively from documents held in their
collections.
The final group to whom I owe a debt of gratitude are the Indian Army
veterans whom I had the honour of interviewing, and who have gener-
ously shared their stories and memories with me over the last fifteen
years. They were fundamental to my first work on the Indian Army,
Phoenix from the Ashes, and their contributions and insights helped lay the
foundation for this, the final chapter of the story of the British Indian
Army.
Last but not least: Nancy, thank you for all your support and editing.
While many people have supported this work, any errors are my
responsibility.

Provided that they [the Indian Army or IA] do their duty, armed insurrection in
India would not be an insoluble problem. If however the IA were to go the other
way, the picture would be very different.1
We do not have the military force to hold India against a widespread guerrilla
movement or to reconquer India . . . It is doubtful if we could keep the Indian
troops loyal.2
The two quotes above highlight a fundamental, but largely unconsidered,
aspect of the last days of the British Raj. Throughout complex processes
of diplomatic negotiation and large-scale planning in British India
and the United Kingdom, one critical element on which the success of
the entire endeavour rested was the ongoing loyalty and stability of the
British Indian Army. However, despite thousands of books, monographs,
and articles which consider one aspect or another of this most difﬁcult
and complicated period of history for India, Pakistan, and the United
Kingdom, the role and conduct of the Indian Army have gone largely
unexamined.
When the Indian Army is discussed in relation to this period, it is often
in an offhand or simplistic manner. Perry Anderson described the Indian
Army in 1946 as ‘composed of veterans of domestic repression and over-
seas aggression fresh from Imperial services in Saigon and Surabaya’.3
Kirpal Singh, discussing events in the Punjab during the harrowing
summer of 1947, claimed that ‘the Punjab Boundary Force [PBF] did its
best to quell ever increasing lawlessness but with little success . . . because
the military force under General Rees was infected with communalism’.4

1
Nicholas Mansergh, ed., The Transfer of Power, 1942–1947, 12 vols. (London: HMSO,
1970–83) (henceforth TOP), vol. VI, Prime Minister Clement Attlee to Secretary of State
for India, Lord Pethick-Lawrence, 6 Dec. 1945, 271, p. 616.
2
Attlee to Chiefs of Staff, TOP, XI, p. 68.
3
Perry Anderson, ‘After Nehru’, London Review of Books, 34, 15 (2 Aug. 2012), pp. 21–36
(quotation p. 22).
4
Kirpal Singh, ed., Select Documents on the Partition of the Punjab 1947 (New Delhi:
National Book Shop, 1991), p. xxviii. By contrast, a veteran of the civil war, Brigadier

The fact that the Indian Army, as an institution, did not collapse is a
real and lasting testament to the professionalism of the force. As the
events of 1947 will clearly show, there were concerted efforts to under-
mine its integrity from many of the same people who would later claim
that its performance was unsatisfactory. The Indian Army went through a
period of instability that could have destroyed any military organisation.
Its experience in the events surrounding independence and partition is
unique in the annals of military history and decolonisation. No other
force has had to deal with such extreme and varied pressures. The Indian
Army was essentially asked to prevent, or to attempt to contain, a civil
war erupting among the various ethnic and religious groups from which
its own soldiers, officers, and viceroy commissioned officers (VCOs)
were drawn. The fact that there were isolated incidents where bias was
demonstrated by army personnel is surprising only because they were
not more widespread. Any military force confronted with the carnage of
the Punjab would been hard pressed indeed trying not only to stop the
killings, but also to prevent its own units from becoming emotionally, if
not physically, involved in the situation.
No one could have predicted the level of violence that erupted or the
fact that the police and the civil administration, already under incredible
communal pressure, ceased, for all intents and purposes, to operate with
any cohesion across much of northern India. This breakdown of law and
order left the Indian Army to handle situations as best it could, operating
under strength and in a situation of unprecedented social disruption.
Lieutenant General Sir Francis Tuker commented that ‘Many people
were encouraged to kill that summer [1947] by the almost total collapse,
in the Punjab, of the legal sanctions which normally operate in civil
society to inhibit such behaviour.’ ‘It appears as if there is not Govern-
ment ruling over this area’, wrote a jemadar of the Indian Army on leave
at Jullundur, ‘everybody [at] present [is] at liberty to kill as many
[people] as he likes.’5
This book is an attempt to fill a significant gap – not only in the history
of the Indian Army, but also in British imperial history, the history of

R. C. B. Bristow, who was engaged in the Punjab operations during August 1947,
summarised thus the gap in which the PBF found itself stranded, with doctrine and
history on one side, and the realities of the Punjab on the other: ‘The normal internal
security role of the army was to support the civil power in maintaining law and order, but
we faced a crisis in which the civil power was ineffective, law and order had completely
broken down, and the reliability of the troops varied’ (Bristow, Memories of the British Raj:
A Soldier in India (London: Johnson, 1974), p. 164).
5
Both quoted in Ian Copland, ‘The Master and the Maharajas: The Sikh Princes and the
East Punjab Massacres of 1947’, Modern Asian Studies, 36, 3 (2002), p. 697.

partition, and the histories of India and Pakistan. It will present key
aspects of the Indian Army’s own history – such as background,
decision-making, and ethnic and officer make-up over the century
preceding the Second World War – that contributed to the structure
and functioning of the Indian Army as it stood in 1945. The army
emerged from the Second World War triumphant, but still something of
an enigma beyond its own ranks, and poorly understood by both its
incumbent political masters in London, and its future political masters
in South Asia. This book aims to provide a much deeper analysis of the
army than has been undertaken previously, and in particular a more
critical assessment of its performance during the final days of its existence.
The Indian Army’s evolution and performance in the Second World
War are factors that have not been fully evaluated in considering its role
in the post-war landscape. The initial, crushing defeats that the Indian
Army suffered in 1942 made clear the fact that extensive reforms, both
tactical and social, were badly needed. The crucial political correlation to
the defeats in Burma and Malaya was the chilling realisation for many
Indian soldiers that, with the arrival of the Japanese Army on their
borders, they were fighting for the defence of India itself, regardless of
under whose command they fought. As social reforms, particularly
increased commissioning of Indian officers and expansion of recruitment
practices, as well as tactical training for fighting in the hills and valleys of
Assam and Burma, took hold from 1943 and defeats were turned into
victories, morale and discipline improved, and the rate of desertions
dropped.6 Improvements in officer relations, spurred on by war-time
Indianisation of the officer corps and performance of Indian commis-
sioned officers, also helped to dispel the last vestiges of belief that Indian
officers were second-class citizens. The fact that the Indian Army not
only recovered from crushing defeats early in the war, but also emerged
successful and victorious, was a significant contributor to its morale, its
esprit de corps, and its continued professional performance. The army’s
image of itself as professional and successful, as cohesive and, perhaps
most essentially, non-communal, was critical to the performance of thou-
sands of individual men during the difficult days of 1946 and 1947.

6
It was reported that by March 1943 there had been 3,000 desertions in the Punjab: Ian
Talbot, Khizr Tiwana: The Punjab Unionist Party and the Partition of India (London:
Curzon Press, 1996), p. 100. The reasons for these desertions cannot be blamed
entirely on political issues; one alternative explanation that has been offered is the
signing bonus given to men by the Indian Army upon joining up, which could have led
to multiple registrations under different names. Another focuses upon the potential
communal issues in the Punjab, as described earlier. Whatever the reasons, desertions
dropped signiﬁcantly after 1943.

The Indian Army’s renaissance during the Second World War was
directed and supported by a cast of innovative commanders, including
Field Marshal Claude Auchinleck, Gen. Sir William Slim, and Gen. Sir
Reginald Savory, among others. Their efforts to garner Indian support
for the war effort, along with their revolutionary efforts to dismantle the
last vestiges of pre-war prejudice against Indian commissioned officers
commanding ‘British white officers’, were critical in shaping the Indian
Army’s perceptions of itself during and after the war. The officers and
other ranks of the Indian Army emerged from the Second World War
knowing that major changes lay ahead for India, and were committed to
helping the subcontinent to prepare for independence with an army that
was professional and capable.
In examining the Indian Army’s role, this book will consider a number
of themes relevant to the Indian Army’s political and social relationships to
its homeland during the war-time and post-war periods. Chapter 1 deals
with the ‘foundations’ of the Indian Army on the eve of the Second World
War – its organisation, recruitment, and evolving command structures.
The second chapter provides an overview of the Indian Army’s battlefield
experience during the Second World War, along with the dramatic
changes to the officer corps and recruitment practices during this period.
The Indian Army’s experience in the Second World War also involved
grappling with the military and cultural implications of a Japanese-
sponsored collaborationist force, the Indian National Army. Chapter 3
focuses on the impact of this force and the trials that occurred after the
war. Chapter 4 examines one of the most contentious political and
strategic decisions of the post-war period: the use of Indian Army forces
to re-impose French and Dutch colonial rule in their respective Asian
colonies. This episode highlights how the relationship between India and
the United Kingdom was changing more quickly than most British
politicians could grasp.
Chapter 5 deals with the rise of a new form of communal violence –
one that was well organised and orchestrated by the various political and
religious parties in the areas that would become independent India and
Pakistan. Chapter 6 focuses on the massive, rapid demobilisation of
the army in the post-war period; the political debates that surrounded
its implementation; and its impact on the volatile political and social
environment of the post-war period. This chapter also examines the
difficulties arising from plans to partition the subcontinent, and the
ramifications of that decision for the Indian Army. The seventh and final
chapter discusses the civil war that erupted in northern India in 1947 in
the immediate aftermath of independence and partition, and the Indian
Army’s role in that conflict.

Major General J. C. Bruce, commander of Lahore area, speaking at a

press conference on 3 June 1947, may have provided the best and most
succinct summary of the Indian Army’s position, responsibilities, and
beliefs during this period:
The Army is not an inferior organization, we do not take sides, we do not fight for
one community against another. Unfortunately in all countries and amongst all
communities there are wicked and selfish men who are only too ready to stir up
trouble and to seek personal gain from the misery of others . . . [T]he enemies
against which we have now to be prepared to operate, are, therefore, brutality and
chaos in whatever form these threats may present themselves and I am confident
that all ranks will not only recognize their clear duty in this respect, but will be
proud to show once again that forces of goodwill and sound commonsense always
prevail . . . [W]hen you see fellow countrymen, perhaps even your own friends or
relations, either the victims of brutal assaults, or else guided by thoughtless or evil
agitation into unworthy acts or violence, you must not give way to your personal
feeling for one moment. You must remember that you are on the spot as the
impartial instrument of justice and truth . . . You must restrain the evil doers. You
must protect and secure those who have suffered or are in danger. You must not
be overcome by any desire for revenge . . . In this way you will have shown
yourself a worthy member of the great Indian Army to which you belong and
will have held up the noble tradition of your unit.7
This book will examine the performance of the Indian Army during the
most testing period of its history – from the end of the Second World
War, in 1945, through to independence and partition, in 1947 – and the
role it played in the tumultuous events of that period. By assessing its
performance across many lines of operation during this period, this book
will demonstrate that the Indian Army’s experiences in the Second
World War were central to the role it played in post-war India, and
that the importance of its involvement in preventing total societal break-
down during the transfer of power has been generally overlooked or
underestimated.

7
‘Firm Action to Suppress Lawlessness’, Civil Military Gazette, 3 Jun. 1947, quoted in
Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 99–100.

This chapter will outline some of the key themes that played a significant
role in the final years of the British Raj and the Indian Army. In order to
understand the strains that became evident when India and Pakistan
were preparing for independence, it is first necessary to see how the
Indian Army had developed since the late eighteenth century and how
it was recruited, trained, and organised on the eve of the Second
World War.
The recruitment practices of the British authorities, and how these
changed throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, are of
critical importance to events on the eve of the Second World War. This
chapter will consider the political implications of these practices in some
depth, particularly the army’s over-reliance on the Punjab and northern
India as a recruitment base and its relation to the Unionist Party of
Punjab. Another key theme is the expansion during this period of the
officer corps, which began to recruit from the Indian population, and
the British authorities’ slow and somewhat resistant recognition of the
necessity of this action. The practical changes in the organisation and
leadership of the Indian Army will be considered, especially in the early
to mid twentieth century. Finally, the army’s traditional role in carrying
out internal security (IS) or ‘Aid to the Civil Power’ duties throughout
the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries will be discussed, along with
the factors involved in its apparent breakdown in the summer of 1947.

Recruitment and organisation of the Indian Army

before 1914
The recruitment structure of the old English East India Company
(EIC)1 during the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was
notably different from that of the twentieth-century Indian Army.

1
See the following works for more detail for this period of the EIC: Douglas Peers, Between
Mars and Mammon: Colonial Armies and the Garrison State in Early Nineteenth Century India

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Recruitment and organisation of the army before 1914 7

The company was divided into the three presidencies of Bombay,

Bengal, and Madras, each of which fielded its own units. By the late
1750s, the British had adopted the French practice of recruiting local
Indians as sepoys2 and training them in ‘continental’ or traditional
linear warfare style. However, as the nineteenth century progressed
and the English East India Company became dominant, the recruiting
practices of the various presidencies changed. Madras tended to recruit
from the Madras region, from all classes,3 which meant that no one
class dominated the army. The Bombay Army followed a similar
process.
The army of the Bengal presidency was different. At the beginning of
the 1760s, many of the soldiers came from the Rajput and Brahmin
castes. Over the next fifty years, the Bengal Army chose to recruit almost
exclusively from the high-caste members of the Awadh region.4 By
the early 1800s the Bengal Army was the dominant army of the three
presidencies, but there were those who felt that it had become too
segregated. Restricted recruitment of high-caste soldiers created prob-
lems for the Bengal Army officers: high-caste soldiers would not take
orders from a low-caste native officer or non-commissioned officer

(London: Tauris, 1995); Channa Wickremesekera, ‘Best Black Troops in the World’: British
Perceptions and the Making of the Sepoy, 1746–1805 (New Delhi: Manohar, 2002);
Raymond Callahan, The East India Company and Army Reform (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1972); Amiya Barat, The Bengal Native Infantry: Its
Organisation and Discipline, 1796–1852 (Calcutta: Firma K. L. Mukhopadhyay, 1962);
V. Longer, Red Coats to Olive Green: A History of the Indian Army, 1600–1974 (Bombay:
Allied Publishers, 1974); Kaushik Roy, ‘The Armed Expansion of the English East India
Company: 1740s–1849’, in Daniel Marston and Chandar Sundaram, eds., A Military
History of India and South Asia: From the East India Company to the Nuclear Era
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2008), pp. 1–15; Nile Green, Islam and the
Army in Colonial India: Sepoy Religion in the Service of Empire (Cambridge University
Press, 2009); and Seema Alavi, The Sepoys and the Company: Tradition and Transition in
Northern India, 1770–1830 (New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1995).
2
From the Persian word sipah, meaning army.
3
See Heather Streets, Martial Races: The Military, Race, and Masculinity in British Imperial
Culture, 1857–1914 (Manchester University Press, 2004); Tan Tai Yong, The Garrison
State: The Military, Government and Society in Colonial Punjab, 1849–1947 (New Delhi:
Sage Publications, 2005); Susan Bayly, ‘Caste and Race in the Colonial Ethnography of
India’, in Peter Robb, ed., The Concept of Race in South Asia (Oxford University Press,
1997), pp. 165–218; Stephen Cohen, ‘The Untouchable Soldier: Caste, Politics, and the
Indian Army’, Journal of Asian Studies, 28 (1969), pp. 453–68; Douglas Peers, ‘The
Martial Races and the Indian Army in the Victorian Era’, in Marston and Sundaram,
eds., Military History of India and South Asia, pp. 34–52; and David Omissi, The Sepoy and
the Raj: The Indian Army, 1860–1940 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1994). It is interesting to
compare their deﬁnitions and discussion of ‘classes’, ‘castes’, martial races, and the
central role of the Punjab in recruitment with Lt Gen. Sir George MacMunn, The
Martial Races of India (London: Sampson Low, 1933).
4
Alavi, Sepoys and the Company, pp. 292–5.

(NCO),5 and insisted on food being prepared to strict standards in

accordance with their religious prescriptions.6 The Bengal Army’s
deployment to war in Afghanistan in 1838 also raised religious issues.
As Subedar Sita Ram noted: ‘The sepoys dreaded crossing the Indus
because it was beyond Hindustan; this is forbidden by our religion and
the very act means loss of caste.’7 Many soldiers deserted or discharged
themselves from duty rather than undertake this act.
After the First and Second Anglo-Sikh Wars of the 1840s, the Bengal
Army began to recruit from the Punjab region. The Sikhs had created a
reputable army of Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs who had been drilled in the
European fashion. After the wars had ended, the British recruited some of
the defeated army into the Punjab Irregular Force,8 later the Punjab
Frontier Force, and some recruitment was allowed within the Bengal
infantry units stationed in the Punjab. For the most part, however, oppos-
ition to opening up the regular regiments of the Bengal Army to former
soldiers of the Sikh army persisted for a variety of reasons: professional
jealousy, suspicion of Sikhs, and ongoing assertions from some British
authorities on the necessity of demilitarising the Punjab.9 The sepoys of
the Bengal Army also resented this incursion into their ranks by the
peoples of the Punjab. Subedar Ram noted: ‘This annoyed the sepoys
exceedingly, for the Sikhs were disliked by Hindustanis who considered
them to be unclean and were not permitted to associate with them.’10
The reluctance to recruit from the Punjab changed with the Indian
Mutiny of 1857.11 During the Mutiny, eighteen new regiments had

5
The Gurkha battalions raised both during and after the Nepal wars of 1815 and 1819
from the independent kingdom of Nepal seemed to be separate from these issues. While
they were part of the Bengal Army establishment, they seemed not to have any of the
caste issues that affected parts of the Bengal Army (ibid., pp. 274–81). As the martial race
theory dominated the composition of the Indian Army during the later stages of the
nineteenth century, the Gurkhas were included in the list. However, within Nepal men
were speciﬁcally recruited from certain regions, while other areas were excluded. There
have been many books and articles written about the Gurkhas; some historians feel that
the best comprehensive account is Tony Gould’s Imperial Warriors: Britain and the
Gurkhas (London: Granta Books, 1999).
6
By 1855, lower castes were formally excluded from the Bengal Army: Omissi, The Sepoy
and the Raj, p. 5; see also Streets, Martial Races, pp. 26–7.
7
James Lunt, ed., From Sepoy to Subedar (London: Papermac, 1988), p. 85. (Questions
have been raised regarding the provenance and authenticity of Sita Ram’s memoirs.
However, issues of service outside Hindustan and dissension between Bengalis and
peoples of northern India are well documented.)
8 9
Close to 14,000 men. Yong, Garrison State, pp. 37–9.
10
Lunt, From Sepoy to Subedar, p. 159, and Yong, Garrison State, pp. 42–3.
11
As with many of the themes covered in this chapter, the Indian Mutiny has been the topic
of hundreds of books and articles since 1857. The following books are a good starting
point for understanding the complexities of this event: G. B. Malleson, ed., Kaye’s and
Malleson’s History of the Indian Mutiny of 1857–1858, 6 vols. (London: Allen, 1898);

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Recruitment and organisation of the army before 1914 9

been raised from the Punjab which remained loyal throughout the crisis,
in both the Punjab and the United Provinces. With the Punjab Irregular
Force and the new regiments, this meant that there were more than
50,000 men under arms in the Punjab who were loyal to the British
suppression of the mutinous Bengal Army regiments in northern
India.12
The military recruitment of the Bengal Army did not change dra-
matically in the immediate aftermath of the Mutiny, but over the next
twenty-five years some significant reforms were put in place. Most of
the Bengal Army was reorganised under the Peel Commission findings
of 1859;13 however, this reform left unresolved the question of what to
do with the new Punjab-raised irregulars. Ultimately a decision was
made to open up the recruitment for the Bengal Army along regional
lines: the Bengal Army would still recruit from across northern and
central India, but would consist of many classes and races. Many on
the commission felt it was best to create a system that fostered the
concept of ‘divide and rule’ to avoid re-creating the environment that
had existed prior to the Mutiny. The recruitment of high-caste Brah-
mins and Rajputs was decreased in response to their perceived
involvement in the Mutiny, while the recruitment of Gurkhas from
Nepal was expanded in recognition of their perceived loyalty and
performance during the same period. Also, regiments were to recruit
and serve in their local areas, which meant that henceforth only
Punjab-raised regiments would serve in the Punjab and the Frontier
regions. This meant that, by 1870, only 35 per cent of the Bengal
Army was recruited from the Punjab.14 Many of the irregular

Philip Mason, A Matter of Honour: An Account of the Indian Army, Its Ofﬁcers and Men
(London: Cape, 1974); S. N. Sen, Eighteen Fifty-Seven (New Delhi: Government of
India, 1957); C. A. Bayly and Eric Stokes, The Peasant Armed: The Indian Revolt of 1857
(Oxford University Press, 1986); Saul David, The Indian Mutiny: 1857 (London: Viking,
2002); J. A. B. Palmer, Mutiny Outbreak at Meerut (Cambridge University Press, 1966);
Rudrangshu Mukherjee, Mangal Pandy: Brave Martyr or Accidental Hero? (New Delhi:
Penguin Books, 2005); Peter Stanley, The White Mutiny: British Military Culture in India
1825–1875 (New York: C. Hurst, 1998); and Raymond Callahan, ‘The Great Sepoy
Mutiny’, in Marston and Sundaram, eds., Military History of India and South Asia,
pp. 16–33.
12
Yong, Garrison State, p. 48.
13
See Great Britain Organization of the Indian Army Committee, ‘Report of the
Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Organization of the Indian Army’
(London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1859), together with Minutes of Evidence and
Appendix, multiple volumes, for more speciﬁc details.
14
The Bengal Army in 1870 had forty-nine infantry regiments, of which the Gurkhas and
other ‘hill people’ made up four and the Punjab sixteen; the rest came from outside the
Punjab and Nepal: Yong, Garrison State, pp. 54–5.

regiments raised in the Punjab during the crisis were taken into the
Bengal Army line.15
The anticipated threat presented by Russia and the Second Afghan
War (1879–81) changed recruitment for the Indian Army again, and in
particular began a shift towards the northern and north-western regions
as the main recruiting area. The changes began with the findings of the
1879 Eden Commission Report, which recommended some significant
reforms. Among these were the creation of an army corps that would fall
under the command of a single commander-in-chief (CinC), which
would obviate the need for the three separate CinC positions in existence
at that time. Other suggestions included formally bringing the Punjab
Frontier Force under army command, further recruitment of troops
from the Punjab region, and scaling down the Madras Army.
There was considerable opposition to this plan from within the Indian
Army, including from Sir Frederick Haines, then CinCI.16 The oppos-
ition to the Eden Commission’s findings would be overcome with
appointment of Field Marshal Lord Roberts of Kandahar17 as CinCI in
1885. Lord Roberts stated: ‘I have no hesitation myself in stating that
except Gurkhas, Dogras, Sikhs, the pick of Punjabi Muhammadans,
Hindustanis of the Jat and Ranghur casts . . . [and] certain classes of
Pathans, there are no Native soldiers in our service whom we could
venture with safety to place in the field against the Russians.’18 The
recruitment drive to bring more northern Indians into the Bengal Army,
later expanded to the army as a whole, was the product of what became
known as the martial race theory.19 This assertion – that some groups

15
A number of famous irregular cavalry regiments were raised during the Mutiny: among
them Hodson’s Horse, Wale’s or Probyn’s Horse, and 2nd Sikh Irregular Cavalry were
among those formally listed as Bengal Cavalry. See Lt Gen. Sir George MacMunn, The
Armies of India (London: A & C Black, 1911), pp. 111–12, and Maj. A. E. Barstow,
Handbooks for the Indian Army: Sikhs (Calcutta: Government of India, 1928), p. 17.
16
Streets, Martial Races, p. 97.
17
Commander-in-chief of the Madras Army, 1880–5; commander-in-chief of the Bengal
Army (hence unofficial commander-in-chief of all three presidencies), 1885–93.
18
See C. H. Philips, ed., Select Documents on the History of India and Pakistan, IV: The
Evolution of India and Pakistan, 1858–1947 (Oxford University Press, 1964), p. 517. For
an interesting perspective, see also Roberts’ comments in his book, Forty One Years in
India (London: Bentley Brothers, 1898), pp. 531–2.
19
Between the circumstances of the Mutiny and the influence of opinions of officers who
had served in the Punjab, peoples such as the Bengalis and Madrassis came to be widely
considered non-martial. As Thomas Metcalf noted, ‘whether defined by race, climate, or
personality, martial races were those who most closely resembled what the British
imagined themselves to be . . . they were what the Bengali was not’ (Ideologies of the Raj
(Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 127). See also Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj,
Streets, Martial Races, MacMunn, Martial Races, Yong, Garrison State, and Roberts,
Forty One Years, for more discussion of the concept of ‘martial races’.

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Recruitment and organisation of the army before 1914 11

were martial and others non-martial – was to have lasting repercussions

in India. Many classes20 of Indians, such as Bengalis and numerous
groups from southern India, were deemed ‘non-martial’ and, as a result,
were excluded from the army.21 The northern areas of India, especially
the Punjab, were favoured as the main recruiting grounds. The bias
towards northerners was partially a physical one: Punjabi Musalmans
(PMs),22 Sikhs, and Pathans tended to be taller and stronger than their
southern counterparts, as well as lighter-skinned. Physical distinctions
such as these led some British officers to believe, for example, that
the Pathans of the North-West Frontier region were descended from
the armies of Alexander. Even so, not all northern classes or peoples
were acceptable. People who lived in cities and towns were not considered
to be of the correct stock – only those from the countryside. Within a given
class of people, caste also played a role: Jat Sikhs, for example, were
considered best suited for the infantry, while other castes, such as the
Mazbhi and Ramdasia Sikhs, were recruited for the Pioneers.23
Most units of the Bombay and Madras presidencies had remained
loyal during the Indian Mutiny, and so were not greatly affected by
removal of units from the Army List. The feeling in the British govern-
ment, as well as among those serving on the Peel Commission, was that
those units which had remained loyal during the Mutiny deserved to
remain in service.24 The poor performance of the Madras regiments in
the Third Burma War of 1885 reinforced the notion that the Madrassi
soldiers had lost their fighting abilities. Roberts has been quoted as
saying: ‘I tried hard to discover in them those fighting qualities which
had distinguished their forefathers during the wars of the last and begin-
ning of the present century. But long years of peace and security and

20
‘Class’ was used to denote a given tribe or ethnic grouping within the army.
21
As noted by Maj. Gen. D. K. Palit, despite his Bengali family’s belonging to the warrior
caste and having a long tradition of military service, adherence to martial race theory
resulted in his family slowly being stripped of its martial traditions (author’s interview
with Palit, 4 Nov. 2000).
22
A term formerly used to refer to Muslims; either it or its abbreviation PM will be used
throughout.
23
This issue will be considered further when discussing the re-raising of Mazbhi and
Ramdasia Sikhs (M and R Sikhs) as infantry during the Second World War (Sikh
Light Infantry). Pioneers were units of infantry who were also capable of engineering
tasks. After the First World War they turned more and more to engineering, but when
ﬁnancial considerations were brought to bear this also meant their demise, since the tasks
of engineering were already carried out by units called sappers and miners. Pioneers
became redundant, although they were re-raised during the Second World War.
24
The Madras Army had ﬁfty-two battalions; Bombay thirty battalions; the Bengal had
eighteen pre-Mutiny regiments, thirteen new Punjabi regiments, six low-caste Hindu
regiments, plus various other Sikh, Gurkha, and Punjabi units raised during the war. See
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, pp. 8–9, and Streets, Martial Races, p. 93.

prosperity attending it had evidently had upon them, as they always seem
to Asiatics, a softening and deteriorating effect.’25
There were those who criticised Roberts’ comments as oversimplifi-
cation, and blamed the Madras Army’s poor performance instead on the
fighting capabilities and leadership of the British and native officers of
that army. Many officers, upon appointment to the Indian Army, pre-
ferred service with the newly constituted Bengal Army or the Punjab
Frontier Force. Their reasoning was that the likelihood of seeing action
was greater in the Bengal and Punjab units, due to their involvement on
the Afghan frontier, and that the Bengal and Punjab regiments were
increasingly considered to be ‘elite’.26
Military critics of this trend noted not only that some of the blame for
poor troops should be placed on the lack of good officers, but also that
relying on a given area or class for the majority of the army’s recruitment
was bound to have dire consequences in the long run,27 especially in the
event of a major war. The practice continued, however, and by 1891
twenty-one battalions of Madras infantry had been disbanded. By 1893,
44 per cent of the Indian Army was drawing recruits from the martial
races.28 The Madras units remaining on the Army List had been opened
to recruitment from the northern areas of India and, by 1900, only
twenty-five regiments still recruited from the Madras region. Some units
completely lost their connection to the old Madras Army in the 1903
reorganisation29 and, by 1910, the number of regiments still recruiting
from Madras was eleven. The rest of the regiments of the old Madras
Army were made up of troops from North India, mostly the Punjab.30
The Bombay Army also found itself in a difficult position when its
recruiting grounds were expanded to include some of the northern
regions. By 1903, just 54 of the 208 companies of the army were recruited
from the old Bombay recruiting grounds. The rest of the companies were
from the Punjab, North-West Frontier region, and Rajputana.31 On the

25
Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 345.
26
See Streets, Martial Races, Yong, Garrison State, Mason, A Matter of Honour, Omissi, The
Sepoy and the Raj, Roberts, Forty One Years, and MacMunn, Martial Races, for more
details and comments from serving ofﬁcers.
27
This issue was raised during the First World War, as traditional recruiting grounds were
drying up by 1916. The recruitment policy favoured a small regular army, and would
continue to be tested in any conﬂict where large numbers of men were needed.
28
Streets, Martial Races, p. 100.
29
The 2/1st Punjab is an example of this tendency: it was originally raised in 1761 in
Madras, and served throughout the southern campaigns of the 1700s and early 1800s.
However, it became ‘Punjabised’ and was designated the 66th Punjab Regiment in 1903.
This change severed the link with Madras entirely, except for the early Battle Honours.
30
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 19, and Yong, Garrison State, p. 71.
31
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 19, and Yong, Garrison State, pp. 71–2.

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Recruitment and organisation of the army before 1914 13

eve of the First World War, of the 552 infantry companies in the Indian
Army as a whole, 211 were composed of men from the Punjab, 121 were
from the Frontier region, 80 companies were Gurkhas, and the remaining
troops came from the other regions of acceptable classes.32 Overall, by
1914, 75 per cent of the Indian Army was recruited from the martial races.33
As mentioned above, the Indian Army had been divided into the three
major presidency armies of Bombay, Bengal, and Madras since the
eighteenth century, while the Punjab region was essentially treated as
a separate entity in the Punjab Frontier Force.34 In 1903,35 Lord
Kitchener,36 CinC of the Indian Army, abolished the old structures and
created a more centralised organisation for the army.37 All of the infantry
regiments (battalions) and cavalry regiments were renumbered in
sequential order, and units of the Punjab Frontier Force were formally
integrated as part of the army.38 Gurkha regiments were given their own

32
The reason for the breakdown in the companies list is that most infantry battalions and
cavalry regiments were composed of various class companies or squadrons. This
practice, which had been started before the Mutiny, was reinforced afterwards, in the
belief that if a battalion had a three- or four-company mixture of classes, it would be
more difficult for the unit to unify in a common revolt. However, during the Mutiny,
whole units of Muslims and Hindus did join together in open revolt. Not all regiments
followed the practice of creating companies of different classes (the 14th and 15th Sikh
were entirely composed of Jat Sikhs and the Gurkha regiments were all Hindu): Omissi,
The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 19.
33
Streets, Martial Races, p. 100. See also Yong, Garrison State, ch. 2, ‘Recruiting in the
Punjab: “Martial Races” and the Military Districts’, pp. 70–97, for more detail on
the specific recruiting grounds as well as motivating factors for the various recruits and
the beginning of the ‘garrison state’ concept in the Punjab.
34
This force was formed in 1846 and re-embodied in 1849. It was independent of the
presidency armies and was accountable to the governor of the Punjab. In 1886, the
Punjab Frontier Force was transferred to the direct control of the commander-in-chief,
India.
35
In 1893, the Bombay and Madras commander-in-chief positions were abolished. See the
Madras and Bombay Armies Act of 5 December 1893, in Philips, ed., Select Documents,
IV, p. 517. The process of abolishing the old presidency armies continued, and Lord
Kitchener formally ended the naming of regiments and any associations with the old
presidencies in 1903.
36
Horatio Herbert Kitchener, First Earl of Khartoum and Broome, was commander-in-
chief, India, from 1902 to 1909.
37
The move towards reorganisation had begun in 1880, but it took twenty years for the
formal unified command structure to be put in place under Kitchener.
38
The old Bengal Army list started the numbering process first, e.g. 1st Brahman Infantry
remained the 1st Brahmans; 30th Punjab Infantry became the 30th Punjabis. The Punjab
Frontier Force regiments came in the numbering in the 50s, so that 2nd Sikh Infantry
became 52nd Sikhs. The Madras line came next and also repeated the ‘Punjabisation’ of
the Madras line: for example, 6th Madras Infantry became 66th Punjabis, 16th Madras
Infantry became 76th Punjabis, and so forth. The Bombay line came last: 5th Bombay
Light Infantry became 105th Mahratta Light Infantry, 25th Bombay Rifles became 125th
Napier’s Rifles. See John Gaylor, Sons of John Company: The Indian and Pakistan Armies,
1903–1991 (Tunbridge Wells, UK: Spellmount, 1992), for more detail.

regimental numbering system from 1 to 10. While the infantry regiments

(each consisting of one battalion) were listed in sequential order, they
were also grouped in loose federations of units of two to ﬁve battalions,
and given a regimental centre to which recruits would report. By the
beginning of the First World War, there were 43 such regimental group-
ings. This number rapidly expanded to 115 with the onset of war.39

Impact of the First World War

During the First World War, the old system of recruitment, with heavy
emphasis on the Punjab, continued for at least the first years.40 This
system, which had a specific battalion send out officers to recruiting areas
to find replacements, worked well initially. As the war expanded and
there was more need for Indian troops, the structure suffered increasing
strain, reaching a crisis point in 1915.41 As a result, much of the pre-war
class recruitment system was abandoned, and in the Punjab other areas
were opened up: twenty-two new classes were added to the recruitment
list, and in 1917 a new system of territorial recruitment began.42 Regi-
mental officers and depots were established in regions where no recruit-
ment had ever happened. In doing so, Army High Command noted that
there were numerous classes which had not previously been recruited
who were suitable candidates for army service. As one Indian civil servant
noted: ‘there was also considerable exclusiveness on the part of the army;
certain tribes capable of providing excellent material were barred by
reason of some real or fancied social objection’.43 Whole regions of the
Punjab were opened to recruitment from a variety of regiments, not just
steered into specific units. By the end of the First World War, the Punjab
had supplied more than 40 per cent of all recruits for the combat arms of
the Indian Army. It came down to 1 soldier out of every 26 men,
compared to the rest of India with 1 soldier of every 150 men

39
See Gaylor, Sons of John Company, pp. 8–9, for more detail.
40
For a general narrative of the professional performance of the Indian Army in the First
World War, see Mason, A Matter of Honour, as well as Charles Chenevix Trench, The
Indian Army and the King’s Enemies, 1900–1947 (London: Thames and Hudson, 1988);
and G. Corrigan, Sepoys in the Trenches: The Indian Corps on the Western Front: 1914–1915
(London: Spellmount, 1996). An important perspective from the ‘ranks’ is available in
David Omissi’s Indian Voices of the Great War: Soldiers’ Letters, 1914–1918 (London:
Macmillan, 1999); and Nikolas Gardner, Trial by Fire: Command and Control and the
British Expeditionary Force in 1914 (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003).
41
Indian Army formations were on the western front, East Africa, Gallipoli, Mesopotamia,
and Palestine, as well as in normal IS duties in India.
42
Yong, Garrison State, pp. 108–17.
43
M. S. Leigh, The Punjab and the War (Lahore: Government of the Punjab, 1922), p. 34.

mobilised.44 If percentages from the Punjab and the recruiting grounds

of the United Province are combined, three-quarters of all Indian Army
recruits from this period came from these regions.45 Even with this
dominance, other peoples from across India who had previously been
dropped from the Army List46 were once again considered eligible. The
performance of some of the non-martial races in the First World War
sparked some debate and attempts to bolster support for the martial race
theory, but the controversy was short-lived.
The civil authorities, led by the Punjab governor, Sir Michael
O’Dwyer, also worked closely with military authorities to streamline the
recruitment process.47 O’Dwyer sought the involvement of local landed
elites from across the Punjab in mobilising communities for recruits,
offering compensation for this co-operation in the form of major land
grants and formal titles.48 This centralisation of recruitment efforts
during the First World War, the involvement of military and civil author-
ities, and the co-opting of the rural elite were to lay the foundations of a
heavily militarised province and a structure that would have signiﬁcant
ramiﬁcations for the political situation in 1947. As Tan Tai Yong stated:
The process of mobilization brought about a close association between the
military and the provincial civil administration, laying the foundations of a
militarized bureaucracy in colonial Punjab. From 1916 to 1919 the Punjab
‘home front’ was in effect governed by a military bureaucracy, whose
administrative/military tentacles reached into every level of society and the
economy. The direct assumption of a military function by the Punjab
government, and its intrusion into society on behalf of the military during the
war, was to mark the beginning of a quasi-military state in the Punjab.49
Recruitment for the Indian Army in the inter-war period followed
pre-war practices. Initially the Government of India wished for a large
post-war standing army that would encompass many of the newly raised
units and expanded classes of people. The idea behind this was that it

44
Ibid., p. 41. See also pp. 59–62 for complete lists of the recruits from the different
districts in the Punjab.
45
‘The Simon Commission on Army Recruitment, 1930’, in Philips, ed., Select Documents,
IV, p. 533.
46
Coorgs, Mahars, Mappilas, and 51,000 men from Madras: Omissi, The Sepoy and the
Raj, p. 38.
47
See Leigh, The Punjab and the War, for a very comprehensive study of the impact of the
Punjab on the campaign in terms of recruitment as well as the many land grants given in
various areas for ‘service in the war’. See also Yong, Garrison State, ch. 3, ‘Garrison
Province at Work: Punjab and the First World War’, pp. 98–140, for more details.
48
See Leigh, The Punjab and the War, pp. 140–75 (Appendix B), for speciﬁc lists of land
grants, as well as other gifts to speciﬁc regions for their service. See also Yong, Garrison
State, pp. 125–38, for additional detail.
49
Yong, Garrison State, pp. 139–40.

would be easy to recruit and maintain reserves for any future conflict.
Unfortunately, the Government of India had to cut back due to the
financial constraints of the 1920s and 1930s, and when the axe fell the
first units to suffer were those that had been newly raised. Under pres-
sure, the government followed the old line of sticking to pre-war martial
race theory.50 As the Indian Army reorganised into large regimental
units, the 3rd Madras Regiment was set at four regular battalions and
one training battalion.51 The class composition of the Madras Regiment
was Tamils, Madrassi Musalmans, Paraiyahs, and Christians. By the end
of the 1920s, however, the regular and training battalions had been
disbanded in response to economic pressures.52 Senior members of the
government made their feelings on the Madras infantry known,53 and
only territorial units survived. Interestingly, the 3rd Madras Regiment
was never struck from the Indian Army List, but was considered in a state
of hiatus until 1941.
The findings of the Simon Commission on Army Recruitment in 1930
further reinforced the bias towards the martial race recruitment practice.
It openly stated, ‘broadly speaking, one may say that those races [martial]
which furnish the best sepoys are emphatically not those which exhibit
the greatest accomplishments of mind in an examination’.54 It also
highlighted that in 1930 the Punjab provided 54% of all recruits for the
army (and if one were not to include the Gurkha regiments, this number
rose to 62%). The report went on to elaborate that, due to economic
conditions, it was desirable to recruit from the best groups to ensure
professionalism and fighting ability. It also stated that, while Indian
politicians wished for more Indian unity as embodied in the army, the
politicians did not understand the role of the army and that such a vision

50
Within other units the class compositions were streamlined, with an overwhelming focus
on the Punjab and northern India. See the make-up of the following battalions and
regiments to clarify: 2/1st Punjab Regiment was designated to have two companies of
Punjabi Musalmans, one of Jat Sikhs, and one of Rajputs. The Jats who had been part of
the battalion were sent to other regiments or were disbanded. Cavalry regiments also
followed suit. The 5th Probyn’s Horse was designated to have only three squadrons: one
of Hindustani Musalmans and Musalman Rajputs, one of Rajputs, and one of Jats. The
7th Light Cavalry, again a former Madras-based regiment, was restructured to comprise
one squadron of Punjabi Musalmans, one of Sikhs, and one of Dogras. The other two
pre-war battalions followed their previous rules. The 1/11th Sikh recruited only Jat Sikhs
and the 4/12th FFR and 2/13th Frontier Force Rifles (FFRifles) all had one company
each of PMs, Sikhs, Dogras and Pathans: No. A-8552-1, L/MIL/7/5483, India Office
Papers, British Library (henceforth OIOC, BL) and Indian Army List 1930.
51 52
Indian Army List 1923. Gaylor, Sons of John Company, pp. 138–9.
53
Omissi quotes Sir Claud Jacob saying that the Madras infantry was of no military value:
The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 40.
54
‘Simon Commission’, in Philips, ed., Select Documents, IV, p. 532.

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Nationalist political inﬂuence and questions of loyalty 17

would take years to achieve, due to the competing religions and racial
tensions that existed. It clearly stated that defence problems in India were
quite complex, and that the political push for self-government did not
fully take this complexity into account.55 In short, these findings preview
the disconnect between the army and the developing political leadership
of the Indian nationalist movement: a disconnect that was the source of
numerous problems in the post-Second World War period and which
exacerbated communal conflicts in 1947.
The final economic measure that affected recruitment practices in the
Indian Army before the Second World War occurred in February 1933,
when the Pioneer battalions were disbanded. While this decision may not
appear to be comparable with the others described, it had a significant
effect upon those classes of peoples who were recruited exclusively for
the pioneers. Within the Sikh community, the Jats were recruited for the
infantry, and the Mazbhi and Ramdasia Sikhs for the Sikh Pioneers.56 As
noted in the Handbooks for the Indian Army: Sikhs, ‘their extraordinary
bravery, endurance . . . soon won them a high reputation as soldiers . . . in
the numerous campaigns on the Frontier . . . and during the Great
War’.57 Notwithstanding such a praiseworthy record, this decision meant
that the Mazbhi and Ramdasia Sikhs were effectively denied the oppor-
tunities offered by military service until the Second World War.
By 1939, the composition of the Indian Army was similar to its 1914
counterpart, relying heavily on a select group of classes of Indians, mostly
from the Punjab, for all its recruitment needs. As had occurred in the
First World War, the exhaustion of the limited recruiting pool became a
problem early in the Second World War, especially in the Punjab.

Nationalist political influence and questions of loyalty

At the end of the First World War, as in the United Kingdom, the
Government of India had to contend with thousands of demobilised
soldiers.58 Indian Soldier Boards were established in all the provinces

55
Ibid. See the Indian Statutory Commission, Government of India, Cmd 3568 (1930),
vol. I, for more details.
56
J. D. Hookway, ed., M and R: A Regimental History of the Sikh Light Infantry 1941–1947
(Radley, UK: Reesprint, 1999), pp. 1–2.
57
Barstow, Handbooks for the Indian Army: Sikhs, p. 77.
58
The authorities had censored and monitored mail from the Indian soldiers serving in the
First World War. There had been fears, largely unwarranted, of nationalist politics
somehow inﬁltrating the ranks. Morale issues arose during the early phases of the war;
however, as with their British counterparts on the western front, these were mostly the
result of gruelling battleﬁeld conditions. The Ottoman Empire’s entry into the war
sparked additional fears that Muslim soldiers would refuse to wage war against their

of India,59 and District Soldier Boards (DSBs) were established at the

district level, to reintegrate demobilised soldiers back into civil society
and provide support in the form of employment and financial subsidy,
and land and service rewards,60 as well as safeguarding the interests of
soldiers and their dependants. Soldiers returning to the Punjab and India
in general had to deal with massive inflation, especially of food goods.
Many veterans also sought ‘land grants’, not all of which the Government
of India was able to honour.61
Demobilisation was further complicated by riots and political agita-
tion across India.62 The inter-war period was one of significant political
upheaval for India, characterised by the growing influence of political
discussion and protest on national thought. This was largely a result of
the efforts of the Indian National Congress Party and the Muslim
League. Of particular importance was the policy of civil disobedience
introduced by M. K. Gandhi. Gandhi understood that British rule in
India depended upon the co-operation of the Indian population, espe-
cially those involved in civil departments, the police, and the army. Civil
disobedience was an attempt to break down the ingrained response of
co-operation, without openly advocating insubordination within the
army.
To counter the threats from a large mass of demobilised soldiers and
their potential indoctrination by various Indian nationalist parties, the
Punjab Provincial Government had their DSBs carry out a counter-
propaganda mission in the villages that still served as a recruiting
base for the army. The civil–military cohesion that was organised in
the First World War to improve recruitment practices was reorganised
to influence the countryside and attempt to block any influence from
the nationalist parties. Many commanders in the Indian Army, as well

co-religionists. There was a mutiny of the 5th Light Infantry in Singapore, traced to
outside influence from a local mosque and rumours spread in the battalion by German
prisoners. While issues of Islam played a part in the mutiny, ultimately the culprit was
poor leadership by the British officers. Notwithstanding this, and the ongoing anxiety it
generated, the Indian Army, including many Muslims, fought well against Turkish
forces in Gallipoli, Sinai, Palestine, and Mesopotamia. See Mason, A Matter of
Honour, pp. 422–7, as well as Omissi, Indian Voices, for more details.
59
Except for Bengal.
60
More than 420,000 acres of Colony Land was distributed to 6,000 commissioned and
non-commissioned army officers: Talbot, Khizr Tiwana, p. 56.
61
See Yong, Garrison State, pp. 141–52.
62
Some 400 unarmed civilians were killed at Jallianwalla Bagh in Amritsar in April 1919.
See vols. VI and VII of V. N. Datta, ed., New Light on the Disturbances in 1919
(Simla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study, 1975), as well as N. A. Collet, The
Butcher of Amritsar: General Reginald Dyer (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), for
more detail.

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Nationalist political inﬂuence and questions of loyalty 19

as in the Indian Civil Service (ICS), understood that the ‘loyalty’ of the
soldiers when they were on leave was paramount, especially during the
inter-war years. The DSBs served to reinforce the ‘imperial narrative’
that was considered essential to guarantee the loyalty of the martial
races in the countryside during the political upheaval of the 1920s and
1930s.63
The small size and restricted recruitment practices of the Indian Army
during this period ensured that nationalist influence was minimal, espe-
cially within the rank and file. As David Omissi noted: ‘Nationalism had
little impact on the ranks, and attempts by Congress to subvert the army
got nowhere.’64 There were members of the Indian commissioned officer
corps who had leanings towards an independent India, but these were the
exception rather than the rule.65
The education level of the average jawan (sepoy) of the 1920s and
1930s was not particularly high, nor was his political awareness likely to
be highly developed when he was recruited, generally in his late teens.
The Indian Army recruited from selected areas of India that had pro-
vided generations of soldiers to particular regiments, and both veterans
and potential recruits viewed service within the Indian Army as a trad-
ition, a noble profession that also paid a very good wage. A career in the
army enabled many jawans to buy property in their villages, marking
them as successful in the opinions of the village elders.
The structure of the Indian Army, like the British Army, promoted the
development of regimental esprit de corps. This was furthered by
ex-servicemen who went back to live in rural villages and reminisced
about their army service. With the establishment of the DSBs, this was
better organised and reinforced. Regiments went back to the same
families and villages that had provided good and loyal soldiers in the
past, and recruited from the same sources again and again. By the inter-
war period, it was not unusual for a jawan arriving at a regimental centre
to be the fifth generation of his family to serve in the army. Jawans
dismissed from service for disobedience or political agitation were
shamed before not only their families but also the village elders, and
were considered to have dishonoured the family and village. This was a
harsh judgement, but not an unrealistic one: such a black mark could
worsen the chances for the family and village to supply recruits to the
army in the future.

63
See Yong, Garrison State, ch. 4, ‘Maintaining the Military Districts: Civil–Military
Integration and District Soldiers’ Boards’, pp. 141–86, for more detail.
64
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 151.
65
Author’s interviews with Indian ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.

The recruitment base for the Indian Army was so restricted that the
British authorities had the luxury of being very selective in ensuring a
minimum of political agitation within its ranks. Even so, one instance of
Indian troops disobeying orders in the face of a political protest dem-
onstrates the complexities of the situation. In April 1930, the 2/18th
Garhwal Regiment stationed in Peshawar had two platoons refuse to
take up arms and deal with a nationalist protest. On 23 April, two
platoons from the battalion were deployed across a road as a crowd
approached. They were under orders not to fire, orders which were not
countermanded when they were set upon with stones and other mis-
siles. Many men were wounded, and firing commenced after a soldier’s
rifle was seized by protesters. The following day, when two more
platoons were ordered to move out to deal with a second protest, they
refused. A number of observers within the nationalist community, as
well as opposition members of the British Parliament (MPs), claimed
that this refusal was politically motivated, that the men were refusing
specifically to disperse political protests. The majority opinion, however,
was that the men had been ‘subjected to treatment which no soldier
should be asked to stand without retaliation’ and had reacted
appropriately.66
The Indian National Congress was interested in the policies and
practices of the Indian Army during the 1930s. In the last years of the
decade there were frequent debates in the Indian Legislative Assembly
on the potential broadening of Indian Army recruitment policies, expan-
sion of the Indianisation of the officer corps,67 and modernisation of the
army.68 As a general rule, however, Congress’s interest was not recipro-
cated, or at least not openly. As Yong stated:
The general failure of the Congress to create an impression in the military
districts of the Punjab could be attributed to the fact that the majority of
villages in these districts possessed large numbers of pensioners who depended
on the government for their pensions and welfare generally . . . the continued
existence of the boards [DSBs] and committees formed a ready channel for
representation for the ex-soldiers’ communities . . . the soldier knew his
interests would be looked after and there was little incentive for him to turn to
agitation.69

66
Court of Enquiry, 28 Apr. to 7 May 1930, L/MIL/7/7282, OIOC, BL, as quoted in
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 139.
67
See below for more details.
68
Dorothy Norman, ed., Nehru: The First Sixty Years (London: Bodley Head, 1965), p. 22.
69
Yong, Garrison State, p. 181. The Punjab had one of the lowest rates of disturbances of any
province in the early 1930s. See Judith Brown, Gandhi and Civil Disobedience: The
Mahatma in Indian Politics, 1928–1934 (Cambridge University Press, 1975), pp. 284–5.

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Nationalist political inﬂuence and questions of loyalty 21

With the ending of the First World War, the British government and
the Government of India recognised the need for some devolution
of power at the provincial level to maintain moderate support for
the Raj.70 The Montagu–Chelmsford Report of 1918 attempted to
address this need by allowing a certain level of enfranchisement
within the various provinces, where selection of certain ministers
would be decided by voting.71 However, key positions such as law
and order, revenue, and justice remained in the hands of the ICS and
the provincial government. The Provincial Government also had the
right to fire elected officials if they were deemed unfit. In retrospect,
the report was clearly the first step towards a gradual change to self-
government.72
Lt Governor Sir Michael O’Dwyer of the Punjab opposed the
reforms in general and the report in particular.73 He feared that the
‘urban’ elites would destroy his hard work in the First World War and
dominate the rural districts from which came the bulk of recruits for
the Indian Army. For the first few years, he was in vocal opposition to
any political reform in the province, but over time he realised that a
significant change was happening, and set out to, as he perceived it,
‘protect’ the rural population by manipulating enfranchisement prac-
tices in the Punjab. He favoured rural elites, former soldiers, and small
landholders, essentially setting up veterans and serving soldiers as a
counter-balance to the urban nationalist voting block. From 1920 to
1923, this group set out to establish and oppose various enfranchise-
ment practices.74 Formally created as the Punjab National Unionist
Party75 in 1923, this political bloc dominated the Punjabi political
process from 1923 until the Second World War,76 effectively under-
mining the influence of both the Indian National Congress and the
Muslim League throughout the province. As a senior British official

70
See Judith Brown, Modern India: The Origins of an Asian Democracy, 2nd edn (Oxford
University Press, 1994), for more detail.
71
See ‘Report on Constitutional Reforms’ (Montagu Report), 1918, in Philips, ed., Select
Documents, IV, pp. 265–85, for much more detail.
72
Yong, Garrison State, pp. 123–5.
73
He was relieved of his post following the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in Amritsar in 1919.
74
See Yong, Garrison State, ch. 6, ‘Securing the Reins of Power: Politics and the Punjab’s
Rural-Military Elites’, pp. 240–80, for detail of the process.
75
The Unionist Party was unusual in India at that time in that, although it had quite a large
landowner block, it received broad support from people from a diverse assortment of
class and community backgrounds: Talbot, Khizr Tiwana, p. 51.
76
See ibid., ch. 3, ‘The Unionist Party’, pp. 51–64, as well as Talbot, Punjab and the Raj,
1849–1947 (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1988), for more detail.

stated: ‘it was the best instance of the right kind of provincial govern-
ment, based broadly on the landlords, peasants and soldiers’.77

Indianisation of the officer corps

The Indian Army was officered for more than 100 years by a system of
British officers and native (later viceroy) commissioned officers.78
Indians were not allowed to receive commissions from Addiscombe,
the East India Company officer training academy, or, later, from the
Royal Military College, Sandhurst, or the Royal Military Academy,
Woolwich.79 Only white British officers were put in charge of battalions
or regiments. The reasons given for these decisions were fear of a lack of
loyalty, and that Indians were not considered capable of leading battal-
ions or regiments in the field – a myth that was perpetuated for many
years.80 Even in the nineteenth century, this position sparked debate and
discussion, most of which fell on deaf ears, especially during the tenure of
Gen. Sir Frederick Roberts as commander-in-chief of the Bengal Army.
He was against any proposal that allowed the possibility of native officers
having command over their British counterparts, and the system had
been designed to ensure that British officers would not be commanded
by Indian officers, no matter how junior in age or experience the former
might be.81 Native officers were considered able to command many
different classes of Indians without getting caught up in the men’s

77
Quoted in Yong, Garrison State, p. 269.
78
Native and later viceroy commissioned officers were Indian sepoys who had risen
through the ranks of a unit based upon seniority instead of merit. The ranks of the
native officers were jemadar, subedar, and subedar major (infantry) and jemadar,
risaldar, and risaldar (cavalry). So a senior Indian VCO, subedar major, or risaldar
major would most likely have served for twenty years before attaining the rank.
However, a subedar major still had to accept orders from a young subaltern just out
from Addiscombe or Sandhurst. There is no exact rank equivalent in the British Army:
VCOs commanded platoons, as did lieutenants. For a wider discussion of the debates of
the nineteenth century, see Chandar Sundaram, ‘Grudging Concessions: The Officer
Corps and Its Indianization, 1817–1940’, in Marston and Sundaram, eds., Military
History of India and South Asia, pp. 88–101.
79
Officers for the infantry and cavalry regiments of the British Army and later the Indian
Army were trained at Sandhurst, while officers for the artillery and engineers were
trained at Woolwich.
80
See Chandar Sundaram, ‘Reviving a Dead Letter: Military Indianization and the
Ideology of Anglo-India, 1885–1891’, in P. S. Gupta and A. Deshpande, eds., The
British Raj and Its Armed Forces, 1857–1939 (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2002),
pp. 45–97, and ‘Grudging Concessions’.
81
While this is true, all of the Indian and British officers interviewed noted that the VCOs
were the backbone of the battalion or regiment and were respected at all levels, and
especially by officers just arrived from Sandhurst or Dehra Dun. The VCOs were the link
between the men and the British officers.

religious or class issues;82 but Indian native ofﬁcers were considered

incapable of rising above these controversies.83
Despite these prejudices, in reality native officers regularly com-
manded companies of men during the days of the East India Company
and the early years of the British Government’s control of India, because
the numbers of British officers were quite low in any given unit, espe-
cially the irregular corps.84 The performance of native officers serving
with irregular units during the Mutiny of 1857 demonstrated that
Indians, when given the responsibility, could perform well in the field.85
Many in the establishment believed that native officers should rise
through the ranks on the basis of merit, but conservative elements
decided that men would be awarded VCO ranks by seniority instead.
This system ensured that VCOs were old and trusted soldiers. By 1914
the numbers of British officers had risen to twelve to fifteen men per
infantry battalion or cavalry regiment, while VCOs numbered around
eighteen to twenty men. The VCOs were in command of platoons, while
the British officers served as company commanders and company
officers.
Some in the British establishment felt that the commissioned officer
class should be opened to Indians,86 but this development was not to
take place for several more years.87 A significant reason for this delay was

82
This was an issue with the VCOs. VCOs were of the same class as the company to which
they were assigned. The VCOs from a Sikh or Pathan company commanded platoons of
the same class. The idea was that sepoys would follow the orders and commands of
VCOs due to the fact they were of the same class. This system led to preferential
treatment in certain companies, as the VCO would favour men from his own village.
83
This was eventually proved to be false. Indian commissioned officers were found
generally not to prefer any one class over another even if one of the classes was their
own. Sepoys also did not have difficulty in following the commands of Indian
commissioned officers even if they were not of the same class or if the officer
originated from a non-martial race class.
84
The irregular forces were mostly cavalry regiments. The units raised during the Indian
Mutiny, such as Hodson’s Horse and Fane’s Horse, are examples of these. The Punjab
Irregular Force also had different officering levels due to the fact it was seen as an
irregular force for a number of years.
85
See Henry Lawrence, ‘Military Defence of Our Empire in the East’, Calcutta Review 2,
no. 3 (1844), pp. 32–72, which discusses the efforts of Gen. Sir George Chesney as a
member of the Viceroy’s Executive Council.
86
General O’Moore Creagh (commander-in-chief, India, 1909–14): Omissi, The Sepoy
and the Raj, p. 160.
87
The Imperial Cadet Corps (ICC) was begun in 1901 to open a form of commissions for
Indians. However, it was doomed to failure by the decision that its officers were not
given the same rights as a formally commissioned Sandhurst or Woolwich graduate.
They had no power of command over a British or Indian soldier in the Army in India.
Most of the officers were placed in the Princely State Forces or Imperial Service Troop
formations. Gen. Creagh, CinC, India, pushed for the ICC to be expanded to have
powers of command in the Indian Army in 1912, but this reform was blocked by the

loyalty: it was widely believed that if Indian commissioned ofﬁcers took

over, they would be susceptible to class loyalties and thus be potentially
disloyal to the army. Alternatively, as India’s political consciousness
developed, the contention shifted to become the claim that educated
Indians would seek commissions only to undermine the authority of
the British by turning the battalions or regiments into bastions of Indian
nationalism.
The First World War and the sacrifices made by the Indian Army
finally opened the door for Indian commissions,88 but only by a little.
A select few VCOs were given King’s Commissions; the majority had
served most of their lives and would retire shortly before they reached the
higher ranks.89 An Indian Cadet College was established in Indore90 in
1918 and closed in 1919, to give commissions to men who had served in
the war. Many were men of VCO rank, but few of them had received any
significant level of education. Maj. Gen. A. A. Rudra was an exception:
he had served as a private, and later sergeant, in the Royal Fusiliers. He
had been at Cambridge University when war broke out and was not
allowed to receive a commission although, strangely, he was allowed to
serve as a ranker with a British unit. He felt that many of the soldiers sent
to Indore were not of the best quality and that in fact they had been sent
there by senior British officers expressly to fail, thus reinforcing the pre-
war prejudices about Indians’ inability to command.91
The attempt to broaden commission eligibility was part of an overall
British policy in India which included devolution of far greater power to
elected Indian politicians, particularly at the provincial level through the
Montagu–Chelmsford Reforms92 of 1918, and more rapid Indianisation
of a broad range of civilian services. The Government of India Act of

viceroy and the War Office in the UK. The ICC experiment was ended in 1914. See
Sundaram, ‘Grudging Concessions’, p. 93.
88
Indians had received commissions as medical officers during the war. An estimated 700
men were commissioned into the Indian Medical Services, but not as fighting soldiers.
See Trench, The Indian Army and the King’s Enemies, p. 116.
89
There was only one feature that differentiated British king’s commissioned officers from
king’s commissioned Indian officers, and this would later affect the Indian
commissioned officers from Dehra Dun. British officers, upon appointment to the
Indian Army, were paid an extra wage because they were serving far from home. As
the Indian cadets graduated, they were not granted this extra wage since they were
serving at home. While the Government of India had imposed this as a cost-saving
measure, it caused bitter resentment among the Indian cadets, who felt that they had
been shunted aside in some way and were not considered of the same quality. This issue
would not be properly addressed until 1945.
90
Cadets were then sent to Sandhurst.
91
D. K. Palit, Major General A. A. Rudra (Dehra Dun: Lancer Publishing, 1993), pp. 7–9.
92
Sir Edwin Montagu, the India secretary, had stated in 1917: ‘The Government have
decided that the bar which has hitherto precluded the admission of Indians to

191993 created a Legislative Assembly for India, composed of both

elected and appointed officials at the provincial level. Issues such as
recruitment and further Indianisation of the officer corps were debated
by the assembly and relevant questions forwarded to the Government of
India.
Beginning in 1920, ten places at Sandhurst were reserved for Indians.
At first, most of those selected came from the martial races, and were
either themselves VCOs or the sons of VCOs; some university-educated
men were also chosen. The first cadets from both Sandhurst and Indore
received King’s Commissions, which meant that in theory they held
the same powers of command and punishment as any white officer in
the Indian Army, and underwent the same training process as white
officers had done since the Mutiny. They were posted for a year as
platoon commanders with a British battalion in India; after that they
were posted to any regiment they chose, provided a vacancy was avail-
able.94 At first there appeared to be no issues of racial discrimination,
although some senior officers expressed reservations, fearing that junior
British officers might end up serving under an Indian. For many British
officers in the Indian Army, this possibility was still inconceivable.95
Maj. G. A. A. Rudra joined the 28th Punjab in 1920.96 He noted in his
memoirs that, when he first arrived, the commanding officer (CO) and
adjutant did not take much notice of him. He later learned from a VCO
that, upon arrival, subalterns generally were introduced to all the VCOs
of the regiment by the colonel, a courtesy that had not been observed for
him. Rudra was fortunate in that he had been at Cambridge University
and was a keen sportsman, so the officers did warm to him after a few
days, and he was posted to the various companies as a company officer.97

Eight-unit scheme
Following these ﬁrst Indianisation initiatives, issues arose over how the
process would continue. One scheme, which was rejected, proposed that
Indianisation be instituted in three phases, with the army fully Indian-
ised over the course of forty-ﬁve years. Attempts to move the process

commissioned rank in His Majesty’s Army should be removed’ (quoted in Sundaram,

‘Grudging Concessions’, p. 94).
93
Reforms originated in Monatgu–Chelmsford Report, 1918, were published within this
act.
94
Gurkha regiments were not part of the process. They were still open only to British
cadets. This would not change until Indian independence in 1947.
95
Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 454.
96 97
After 1922 it became the 4/15th Punjab Regiment. Palit, Rudra, pp. 80–90.

forward were hindered by the concern that British men would not join
the Indian Army if they thought there was a possibility that they would
be commanded by an Indian.98 Some in the Indian military still wished
to end the process altogether, but by this point it was no longer possible
to turn back.
Field Marshal Henry Rawlinson, commander-in-chief of the Indian
Army, announced an eight-unit scheme in 1923, which earmarked des-
ignated units for Indianisation.99 Only those British officers already
serving would continue to do so and complete their time, so that there
would be no possibility of an Indian commanding a British officer.100
The eight-unit scheme was a scaled-back version of an earlier proposal
(which had called for twenty units); this was necessary because the failure
rate of Indian cadets at Sandhurst at this time was about 30 per cent,101
and Rawlinson feared it would prove difficult to get the required number
of Indian officers to implement the first proposal.
Interestingly, most of the eight units selected for Indianisation102 were
not so-called elite units. The two cavalry units were old Madras non-
silladar units; elite cavalry units such as Probyn’s or Hodson’s Horse
were not included. There were also no infantry units of the old Punjab
Frontier Force in the list.103
The scheme called for cadets to be sought from all over India, but the
feeling persisted that only cadets from the martial races were suitable.104

98
This was further confirmed in a lecture given in 1931 at the Imperial Defence College,
London. It was stated that there was ‘clear evidence that British cadets were reluctant
to face prospect of coming under the command of Indian officers’ (L/MIL/5/857,
OIOC, BL).
99
He had actually envisioned a different Indianisation process, in which 25 per cent of all
Indian Army commissions would go to Indians, allowing the Indianisation of the officer
corps to occur much more quickly: Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, pp. 166–72.
100
A British graduate of Sandhurst in 1936 remembers a lecture by the commandant which
stated that, while Indians were being commissioned, the system in place would never
allow Indians to command British officers: author’s interview with Lt Col M. Wilcox,
1st Battalion 13th FFRifles, 12 Nov. 1999.
101
One reason for the failure rate was the intense discipline of the regime at Sandhurst.
Many British cadets had some experience of this sort of discipline from having attended
public schools, but the Indians who were sent to Sandhurst had not previously
encountered it. The Prince of Wales Royal Military College was founded in 1922 to
rectify this and prepare Indian cadets for Sandhurst. Another important issue was the
distance that Indian cadets travelled from home to attend: author’s interview with Brig.
C. S. Mehta, 28 Oct. 2000.
102
7th Light Cavalry, 16th Light Cavalry, 2/1st Punjab, 5/5th Mahratta Light Infantry,
1/7th Rajput, 1/14th Punjab, 4/19th Hyderabad, 2/1st Madras Pioneers.
103
These would appear in the second list of units in 1933, although none of the elite
cavalry units was ever earmarked for Indianisation.
104
The Punjab provided 42%; United Provinces 10.5%; and Bombay 14%. Interestingly,
Bengal provided 10.5% of the cadets for Royal Military College Sandhurst between

This prejudice was propagated by the belief that the martial race troops –
such as Sikhs, PMs, and Dogras – would not consent to being led by
officers who were Bengali or Madrassi. Recruiting cadets from the pre-
ferred martial races initially posed some problems, as candidates often
lacked the educational requirements stipulated by the selection process,
forcing the army to recruit from other classes as well. To complicate
matters still further, the establishment was also concerned that VCOs
would not respect newly commissioned Indian officers.
After the eight units had been designated, Army Headquarters (AHQ)
India called for all previously commissioned Indian officers to leave the
regiments where they were stationed and choose one of the eight units.
Three Indian officers opted not leave their regiments;105 one of these was
Maj. Gen. Rudra. The impetus for this decision was actually Rudra’s
subedar major, who refused to permit him to leave the regiment and went
to the colonel himself to state that the men and the VCOs did not wish
Rudra to be released. The request was dropped and Rudra remained
with the battalion until the Second World War, in the process helping to
debunk several of the myths described above. As was indicated by
the subedar major’s actions, as a king’s Indian commissioned officer
he was clearly not resented by the VCOs. Over the course of fifteen
years, he commanded British officers, provoking no controversy or even
comment. Finally, the men were content to be led by Rudra, although he
was not of a northern martial class.106
Indian cadets who were commissioned continued to be sent to British
units for a year of training, then were posted to one of the eight Indian-
ised units. Like their predecessors, the men held King’s Commissions
and were referred to as king’s Indian commissioned officers (KCIOs). In
theory, they still had the right of command over British officers, but the
capacity for actually carrying this out was limited by their placement in
Indianised units.
Over the course of the 1920s, the number of Indian men seeking
officers’ commissions dropped. Sandhurst was one stumbling-block;

1919 and 1925. See Pradeep Barua, Gentlemen of the Raj: The Indian Army Ofﬁcer Corps,
1817–1949 (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), p. 154. Ofﬁcer recruitment from both
Bengal and Bombay had dropped dramatically by the 1930s (see below).
105
Many felt that the eight-unit scheme was a system of segregation and that the rest of the
army units would look down upon them (which turned out to be true); thus these three
men opted to remain with their parent units. Even Sir George MacMunn, a military
author who is considered quite conservative, had issues with the segregation; he wrote
in his Martial Races in 1933 that ‘if the British Dominion is to remain on sound lines the
less separation takes place the better it will be’ (p. 350).
106
Author’s interview with Brig. N. K. Chatterji, nephew of Maj. Gen. Rudra, 25 Oct.
2000.

the amount of money required for fees, and the distance that most cadets
would be required to travel, were daunting for many prospective candi-
dates.107 According to the Indian Sandhurst Committee’s Report from
1927, the limiting ‘eight unit scheme’ was another reason why the
number of applicants had not increased. As it stated: ‘it is necessary to
widen the ﬁeld of opportunity’.108

Indian Military Academy

Following the demand by the Indian legislature for more Indians to be
commissioned at Sandhurst, and the subsequent lack of response from
potential cadets, the decision was made to create an Indian Military
Academy (IMA) at Dehra Dun. The academy was formally opened on
10 December 1932; cadets who completed the required course of
training would henceforth achieve the designation of Indian commis-
sioned officer (ICO), and they would only be eligible to command
Indian soldiers,109 unlike their predecessors, the king’s commissioned
Indian officers, who had been eligible for positions of command over
both British and Indian troops.110 A precedent for this decision did
already exist, in that Dominion officers experienced a similar fate. The
cases were not generally considered equivalent, however, since on
the whole few British troops or officers were present throughout
the Dominions, while Indian commissioned officers regularly had to
contend with the reality of British Army troops and British officers in
their country. This decision was to cause bitter resentment among the
officers,111 and to create significant friction between KCIOs and
ICOs.112

107
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, pp. 172–6.
108
See ‘The Indian Sandhurst Committee’s Report, November 1926’, in Philips, ed.,
Select Documents, IV, pp. 531–2.
109
This was similar to the graduates of the Canadian and Australian Military Academies
(Kingston and Duntroon) who held commissions only within their own Dominion
forces.
110
Realistically, the possibility of a KCIO commanding a British officer had been limited
by the eight-unit scheme.
111
This perception of ICOs as ‘second class’ was considered a contributing factor to the
decision by some ICO prisoners of war to switch sides and participate in the formation
of the Indian National Army. Captain Mohan Singh, an ICO who graduated from IMA,
was one of the first officers to join the INA. See Chapter 2 for more discussion on the
INA and its impact in the Second World War and Chapter 3 which will deal with the
INA trials in late 1945 and early 1946.
112
Brig. R. B. Chopra, a graduate of IMA Dehra Dun in July 1936, noted a speech from an
Indian major who was a KCIO. He paraded the men and said that he was different from
them (because he was a graduate of Sandhurst) and that they must always remember
that point: author’s interview with Brig. Chopra, 22 Oct. 2000.

The course at the IMA was designed to last two and half years, the
extra year of instruction having been added to instruct cadets in British
customs which might be unfamiliar to them.113 There were two terms a
year, and forty cadets were accepted for each term. Fifteen cadets were
selected from the Indian Army, ten from the Princely States, and fifteen
from open competition.114 Even with such quotas established, selection
continued to be made primarily from the designated martial races.115 Lt
Gen. K. P. Candeth noted that, of his entering class in 1934, 40% were
Musalmans, 30% were Sikhs, and the rest were Dogras, Jats, and
Mahrattas. He, as a Madrassi,116 was the only cadet who could be
considered non-martial.117
Although the initiatives undertaken by the Indian Army could be
construed as attempts to limit or undermine the success of the Indian-
isation process and segregate the cadets into specific units, there were
those who clearly did not want the scheme to fail. One piece of evidence
for this is the calibre of the training officers selected for the IMA. Many
officers have noted that the British training officers were first class;
Lt Gen. Harbarkash Singh even claimed that British officers selected
for the IMA ‘were known for their sympathy for the Indian cause’.118
While this statement may seem an exaggeration, other officers have
noted that the British officers respected the Indian cadets and did
not perpetuate a colour bar. One of the first officers posted to the
IMA was Maj. Reginald Savory119 of the 1/11th Sikh, and many Indian
officers later commented on his open-mindedness.120 Lt Gen. K. S.

113
Many Indian officers felt that the extra year’s instruction gave them an advantage over
officers coming from Sandhurst: author’s interviews in Pakistan and India, 1999–2009.
114
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 184.
115
Three Indian officers that I interviewed came from the martial races. Their fathers had
served either in the Indian Civil Service or in the army as subedars.
116
Author’s interview with Lt Gen. K. P. Candeth, 28 Oct. 2000.
117
The Punjab was listed as having provided 41% of the cadets at IMA from 1932 to 1936,
with the North-West Frontier Province and the United Provinces providing an
additional 24% of the total intake. Madras and Bengal provided only 1.5% and 1%
respectively. See Pradeep Barua, The Army Officer Corps and Military Modernisation in
Late Colonial India (University of Hull Press, 1999), p. 155.
118
Mss Eur T95/2 Lt Gen. Harbarkash Singh, OIOC, BL.
119
Savory was later to command the 23rd Indian Division during 1942–3 and played a
considerable role in the tactical reform of the Indian Army to improve its fighting
potential in the jungles of Burma. He became the director of infantry, India, in 1943
and remained so until the end of the war. During the post-war period, he became the
adjutant general of the Indian Army.
120
Col John Maling of the 1st Sikh Light Infantry was a pre-war officer. While at Sandhurst
in 1934, he met Savory, who discussed the Indianisation process and his full support of
it. Maling joined the 1/11th Sikh Regiment while Savory was the CO in the late 1930s.
He noted that Savory made all British officers aware of the Indianisation process and
made his positive feelings known: author’s correspondence with Col John Maling.

Katoch described how his company commander, Maj. David ‘Punch’

Cowan,121 set the tone for the training company with the attitude that, if
the cadets were good enough for the king, they were good enough for
the rest of the Indian Army.122
Once the IMA was operational and accepting a full complement of
candidates, the need for more units in which to place the cadets became
apparent. By 1933, a further seven infantry battalions, one cavalry regi-
ment, and ancillary units had been selected for Indianisation, with the
idea of forming a division entirely of Indianised units, although the time
when an ICO would attain the rank of lieutenant colonel was still far in
the future. This second round of Indianisation included elite infantry
units,123 but the elite cavalry formations were still not on the list and
would not accept Indian officers until the outbreak of the Second World
War.124 The British officer instructors encouraged their cadets to join
their own regiments; Lt Gen. Harbarkash Singh was encouraged by
Savory to join the 11th Sikh,125 and Maj. Gen. Prasad was encouraged
to join the 12th Frontier Force Regiment (FFR) by his training officer,
who reinforced his argument by pointing out that other Indian cadets had
joined.126
ICOs continued to spend a year with a British regiment stationed in
India before proceeding to their chosen Indian regiment. On the whole,
ICOs felt that they were well received by their British regiments; they
occasionally encountered officers who were a bit standoffish, but overall
British officers did not feel threatened by Indian officers, since they did
not fear being replaced. Most Indian officers found it easier to fit in if
they were good at sport.127
Following their induction year, ICOs were posted to their selected
Indianised battalions. All of the officers that I was able to speak with
mentioned that upon their arrival they were greeted as would any officer
being welcomed to his new unit, and that it was entirely up to the CO to

121
As with Savory, Punch Cowan was to command a division during the Burma campaign.
He commanded the 17th Indian Division from the Battle of Sittang in March 1942 until
1945. He was also instrumental in the tactical reform of the army to fight in the jungles
and open plains of Burma.
122
Author’s interview with Lt Gen. Katoch, 4 Nov. 2000.
123
5/6th Rajputana Rifles, 5/11th Sikh, 4/12th FFR, and 6/13th FFRifles; the rest were
5/2nd Punjab, 5/8th Punjab, 5/10th Baluch: L/MIL/17/5/1800, OIOC, BL.
124
3rd Cavalry was selected.
125
Mss Eur T95/2 Lt Gen. Harbarkash Singh, OIOC, BL.
126
Including one Lt S. H. J. F. Manekshaw, who later became a field marshal in the Indian
Army: author’s interview with Maj. Gen. N. Prasad, 28 Oct. 2000.
127
Brig. Chopra took nine wickets for his British Battalion, the 22nd Cheshire Regiment,
which helped them to adjust to him.

set the tone within his unit. Most COs seem to have made protecting
their men in all types of situations a priority; while this was not always
true, when a unit was first listed to be Indianised, it seems in most cases
that within a year or two most of the men who wanted to leave had been
posted out and others brought in for the transition period.128 Maj. Gen.
Prasad mentioned an incident concerning a British major of the 4/12th
FFR who had made it clear that he was not happy about the situation,
and for his pains was called up in front of the CO and given a talking-to in
front of the Indian officers.129
The last controversy of the Indianisation scheme before the start of
Second World War was the platoonisation of infantry units. While issues
of the rates of pay and apparent segregation into specific units were
significant concerns, the implementation of the platoon system was a
major grievance of Indian officers, who saw it as definitive proof that they
were being assigned second-class status in comparison to their British
counterparts.130
With the increase in Indian officers in the late 1920s, proposals were
made to change the organisation of the Indianised infantry battalions,131
but no initiatives were formally undertaken until January 1935.132 At this
point the number of ICOs sent to each battalion was set at around twenty
to twenty-four officers, who would command platoons. The old VCOs
would gradually be sent to other units of the given regiments and the
VCO ranks would be abolished,133 with the ICOs taking over their
positions. The British Army had a similar system in place, with lieuten-
ants commanding platoons, but the Indian Army had not adopted this
practice.
Maj. Gen. D. K. Palit contends that the main reason for this policy
was to make the process of Indian officers going up the rank ladder
take longer. He was convinced that he himself would never rise above
the rank of major.134 AHQ contended that since both officers and
men were now Indian, they no longer needed the added support
buffer of the VCO ranks. However, some Indian officers had more
in common with their British counterparts than with their men, and
this decision therefore created friction. Overall, the Indian officers felt

128
All seven pre-war Indian commissioned ofﬁcers noted this in the interviews.
129
Author’s interview with Maj. Gen. Prasad, 28 Oct. 2000.
130
Many ICOs from the pre-war period highlighted these issues during the initial interview
period. There was a silver lining to this argument, ironically: when war broke out in
1939, there was a demand for more Indian ofﬁcers to help expand the army.
131
IAO No. 174 (1934); 386 (1935), OIOC, BL.
132 133
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 182. L/MIL/17/5/1800, OIOC, BL.
134
Author’s interview with Maj. Gen. Palit, 4 Nov. 2000.

that they had been insulted and were looked down upon by the rest
of the army;135 one Indian Army officer mentioned that when an
Indianised battalion was stationed in a cantonment with other Indian
Army regiments there was frequently a sense of inferiority among the
Indian officers.136 Significantly, Indian officers did make a distinction
between the orders and directives handed down by AHQ, and on the
whole did not blame the British officers for the directives.137
The drop in Indian officer candidates as the decade drew to a close
was attributed to the various aspects of Indianisation. The general
sentiment was, why join a segregated unit to get paid a lower wage, or
command at a lower level than British officers? An attempt to rectify
this was made in 1938, when it was formally recognised that ICOs
could command British officers in the Indian land forces who were of
a rank equivalent to or below their own, based upon seniority. There
was one major omission: ICOs had similar powers to KCOs, but did
not have power of punishment over British other ranks.138 This was to
cause problems, and provoke further changes, during the first years of
the war.139
The 1920s and 1930s had marked slow progress for the Indianisation
system, but the foundations for the future had been laid. The myths that
men and VCOs of the martial classes would not want to be led or
commanded by Indian officers (of either the martial or non-martial
classes) were in the process of being dispelled as Indian officers and
men served together in operations on the frontier and during Aid to the

135
This issue was among those brought forward when interrogation of ex-officers who had
joined the INA began in 1945 and the reasons for their switching sides were discussed.
136
Brig. Gubrux Singh related an incident at a club dance, where the Indian junior officers
all stayed on one side and the British junior officers stayed on the other. He noted that
the Indians felt that they were as good as the British, but feared that the British would
shun them: author’s interview with Maj. Gen. Gubrux Singh, 23 Oct. 2000.
137
Author’s interviews with Lt Gen. Candeth, 29 Oct. 2000, Lt Gen. Katoch, 4 Nov. 2000,
Maj. Gen. Prasad, 28 Oct. 2000, Maj. Gen. L. Singh, 26 Oct. 2000, Brig. Chopra,
22 Oct. 2000.
138
L/MIL/17/5/1800, OIOC, BL.
139
The final significant development of pre-war Indianisation was the formal raising of an
Indian field artillery unit in 1935. Previously, all field artillery units had been exclusively
British Royal Artillery from the time of the Indian Mutiny. As a result of that event, the
widespread feeling was that Indians could not be trusted with large artillery pieces,
although they were allowed to serve in mountain artillery units. On 15 January 1935 the
1st Field Brigade was formed at Bangalore, with four batteries made up of Madrassis,
PMs, Rajputana Rajputs, and Ranghars: L/MIL/7/19154, OIOC, BL. All officers
posted to this unit were to be Indians; they would serve one year’s attachment to a
Royal Artillery unit in India and then move to the 1st Field Brigade. This system laid
the foundation for proper Indian Field regiments to be raised during the Second World
War: author’s interview with Lt Gen. Candeth, 25 Oct. 2000, one of the first Indian
officers of the brigade.

Civil Power exercises. The growing numbers of Indian ofﬁcers, as well as

their performance, helped to enhance their reputation to some degree
with British officers serving outside the Indianised units.140 Senior
Indian Army officers who felt there should be no colour bar helped to
set the tone within their own battalions and regiments, or trained future
Indian officers at the IMA. Maj. Gen. E. H. W. Grimshaw, a Sandhurst
cadet in 1931, recalled similar sentiments. He was the son of the former
colonel of the 62nd Punjab Regiment (1/1st Punjab Regiment) and
attended Sandhurst with three Indian cadets in his company. He did
not feel that there were any colour issues among the cadets. The Indian
cadets performed as well as the British, and the general feeling in
his company was, why not have Indian officers in the Indian Army?
Grimshaw later led the 1/1st Punjab in the Burma campaign with
an ICO141 as his second-in-command and, when he relinquished
command, he recommended the Indian officer to replace him. His rec-
ommendation was carried forward, and Lt Col Sher Ali Khan led the
battalion during Operation Extended Capital in 1945; he received high
marks from all in the 1st Punjab Regiment, as well as from Field Marshal
Auchinleck.142
Many ICOs followed the British military tradition of not talking about
politics in the mess. Etiquette in the mess of course did not mean that
officers were lacking political feelings or ideas during the inter-war
period. While many Indian officers were drawn from sons of the VCOs
and soldiers, who were generally expected to hold traditional political
opinions, there were others who were sons of officers in the ICS and
other civil departments. Those who came from ICS families were more
likely to be politically aware, and might be considered more likely to
support nationalist policies. Some of these men had joined the army
when Indianisation was initiated, because they had always wished to
but military service had traditionally been denied to their family since
they were not of the martial races. Maj. Gen. G. J. Hamilton, Guides
Infantry (5/12th FFR), noted that ‘we all knew, even in the ’20s, that
independence for India could not be long delayed and it was our duty to

140
Lt Col Michael Willcox, 1/13th FFRifles, mentioned that when he left Sandhurst in
1937 he knew something of the system. By 1939 he had heard positive things about
Indian officers serving in the 6/13th FFRifles: author’s interview, 23 Nov. 1999.
141
Maj. Sher Ali Khan originally joined the 7th Light Cavalry, but was posted out as
a result of problems in the regiment during the war. Gen. Auchinleck sent him to the
1/1st Punjab Regiment as second in command: author’s interview with Maj. Gen.
E. H. W. Grimshaw, CB, CBE, DSO, 6 Dec. 2000.
142
Author’s interview with Maj. Gen. Grimshaw, 6 Dec. 2000.

see that our Indian successors, both in the services and civil adminis-
tration, were properly trained’.143
Most officers, whatever their political leanings, recognised that India
would reach either Dominion status or full independence in the near
future and that there would be a need for Indian officers for the Indian
Army.144 As Jawaharlal Nehru noted when discussing the Indianisation
of the ICS: ‘There were some members of this civil army [the ICS] who
were able and patriotic and nationalistically inclined but like the soldier,
who also may be patriotic in his individual capacity, they were bound up
by the army code and discipline and the price of disobedience, desertion
and revolt was heavy.’145
Many officers who may have had nationalist inclinations felt that their
service to the Indian Army, and more particularly their regiment, was
their priority and therefore chose not to upset the balance by overt
demonstration of political leanings. There were officers who had become
bitter through mistreatment at the hands of some British officers and
civilians and relegation to second-class status as soldiers. This mistreat-
ment was a major reason for some Indian officers’ decision to break their
oaths of allegiance and join the Japanese-sponsored Indian National
Army (INA) after the defeats in Malaya and Burma in 1942.146
A young subaltern, Robin Hastings, arriving in India to be posted to
his British regiment (the Rifle Brigade) in February 1939, recorded one
of his earliest observations of interaction between the Indian Army and
India. An Indian gentleman (and officer), sent by Government House to
fetch him at Bombay, was subjected to an onslaught of racist abuse by the
British disembarkation officer. The Indian officer was unruffled, but
the subaltern never forgot it, commenting that the incident was
‘an example of how the worst type of Englishman could alienate a whole
nation’. He found it even more striking when compared to his subse-
quent exposure to his own and other Indian Army regiments, where he
never witnessed any such behaviour towards Indian officers from either
officers or men.147
The Government of India Act of 1935 had devolved significant power to
the provinces, in an effort to appease nationalist sentiments. As the two
major nationalist parties, Congress and the League, began to win seats in

143
Gaylor, Sons of John Company, p. 29.
144
Author’s interviews with Indian ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.
145
Jawaharlal Nehru, The Discovery of India (London: Meridien Books, 1956), p. 329.
146
The INA falls outside the scope of this chapter but will be discussed in greater detail in
Chapter 3.
147
He served in India for a year: Robin Hastings, An Undergraduate’s War (London:
Bellhouse, 1997), pp. 31–2.

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Organisation and roles of the army in the inter-war period 35

the provincial assemblies, parties which won a majority were entitled to

appoint a chief minister, who worked with the governor from the ICS.
However, law and order were still vested in the hands of the Government
of India. The governors of each of the provinces were to take the advice
of the provincial assemblies, but they could disregard any advice at
their discretion if security was at risk. The ICS and Indian Police (IP)
also remained under the control of the governor-general (viceroy).148

Organisation and roles of the army in the inter-war period

The First World War also demonstrated significant deficiencies in the
army’s supply network, training practices, and general organisation. The
regimental groupings were not highly organised, and the establishment of
individual centres meant that each one requested materiel and weapons
from AHQ separately, frequently overwhelming the supply network.
Each centre was also responsible for finding its own recruits from the
local populations that traditionally served in each of the battalions, an
unwieldy system that created numerous breakdowns in management and
processing reinforcements for overseas duty. Perhaps most important,
nothing had been done to establish formal training procedures, and
recruits had to be ready to go overseas quickly. This meant that training
of the recruits was generally of a low standard.149
The cavalry units, with similar organisation, faced similar problems.
The old silladar system150 of most of the cavalry units151 of the Indian

148
See Government of India Act, pp. 164–6; also in Philips, ed., Select Documents, IV,
pp. 320–35.
149
Gaylor, Sons of John Company, p. 18.
150
Under the silladar system, new recruits to many of the Indian cavalry regiments paid for
their horses and equipment when they arrived. Upon leaving the regiment, they would
sell the horses and equipment back to the regiment. This was an old cavalry practice,
dating from before the British Indian Army existed and actually originating with the
Mahratta and Mughal cavalry units. There had been a division of irregular and regular
cavalry units under the East India Company, with many of the irregular cavalry
originating from the locally raised Sikh and Punjabi Musalman units. However, since
many Bengal Army units participated in the Mutiny, the irregular cavalry units were
taken into the line. With the abolition of the East India Company, the Indian Army
cavalry units all became silladar units except the units of the Madras presidency. The
clear advantage for the British government in India to adopt this policy was that it cost
them less than to outﬁt cavalry regiments, since it would only have to provide for them
during war-time. The rates of pay for soldiers in the silladar system were also higher. By
the turn of the century the silladar system had changed a little; the recruits no longer
bought horses, but paid fees for their upkeep instead. See Maj. Gen. S. S. Hamid, So
They Rode and Fought (Tunbridge Wells, UK: Midas Books, 1983), pp. 33–4.
151
The 26th, 27th (later 7th Light Cavalry), and 28th Madras Lancers did not operate
under the silladar system. They were equipped with horses and other supplies by the
government.

Army finally broke down under the pressures of war. The ability of units
to acquire and ship replacement horses to the various fronts was ser-
iously compromised, as was the quality of horses acquired as demand
increased throughout the war. The system of processing recruits for both
the infantry and cavalry also ran into difficulties. Recruits originally
earmarked for one regiment were sent to others, in response to wherever
the demand for reinforcements was greatest. This caused morale issues,
and created an additional complication when assamis152 could not be
collected, creating further financial problems. Regiments felt that they
could not ask men for assamis before they left when there was a strong
possibility that they might be posted to another regiment upon arrival
overseas.
In the face of an increasingly chaotic situation, the Government of
India was forced during the First World War to take over the many
regimental systems providing horses and equipment to the troops. This
in turn provoked a major governmental reorganisation of the army after
the war ended, driven primarily by the need to increase economic
efficiency. The first major reform was the amalgamation of the old
thirty-eight cavalry units into twenty-one cavalry regiments.153 In
conjunction with this change, the silladar system was abandoned and
the Government of India assumed responsibility for providing all of the
necessary horses, equipment, and food. The peace-time establishment of
the Indian Cavalry Regiment was set at 14 British officers, 18 VCOs,154
and 504 NCOs155 and men. The cavalry regiments were grouped into a
unit of three regiments, to facilitate the easier recruitment process of the
various classes.156

152
The fee that was paid to the cavalry regiment was called the assami. Each regiment had a
stud farm where horses were reared for operational units; these were then leased out to
regiments. The assami was also thought to compel loyalty from soldiers; if a soldier was
discharged with a good record, he would receive most of his assami in return. If he was
dishonourably discharged, however, he received nothing. See Omissi, The Sepoy and the
Raj, pp. 72–3.
153
Regiments: 1st Skinner’s, 2nd Lancers (Gardner’s Horse), 3rd Cavalry, 4th Hodson’s
Horse, 5th Probyn’s Horse, 6th Duke of Connaught’s Own Lancers (Watson’s Horse),
7th Light Cavalry, 8th King George V’s Own Light Cavalry, 9th Royal Deccan Horse,
10th Guides Cavalry (Frontier Force), 11th Prince Albert Victor’s Own Cavalry
(Frontier Force), 12th Cavalry (Frontier Force), 13th Duke of Connaught’s Own
Lancers, 14th Scinde Horse, 15th Lancers, 16th Light Cavalry, 17th Poona Horse,
18th King Edward’s Own Cavalry, 19th King George V’s Own Lancers, 20th Lancers,
Central India Horse (21st King George V’s Own Cavalry). See Gaylor, Sons of John
Company, pp. 333–5.
154
Jemadar, subedar, and subedar major.
155
Lance naik (lance corporal), naik (corporal), dafadar (sergeant).
156
See section on recruitment for full explanation of classes.

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Organisation and roles of the army in the inter-war period 37

The Indian infantry was formally grouped together, with the various
battalions reorganised into twenty large regiments.157 The idea was that
each regiment would be made up of four or five battalions, plus a formal
training battalion.158 (Gurkha battalions were organised differently.)159
All recruits would proceed to the training battalion at the regimental
centre and then pass on to a specific unit. Each regiment would recruit
from a specific class and the men would be liable for posting to any unit
in that regiment. There were exceptions to this rule.160 The authorised
strengths of battalions were formalised and standardised, eliminating the
five different authorised battalion strengths that had existed before the
war. Indian infantry battalions were assigned 12 British officers, 20
VCOs, and 742 Indian NCOs and other ranks. Training battalions had
9 British officers, 14 VCOs, and 636 Indian NCOs and other ranks.161
By 1929 the specific organisation of an infantry battalion changed to an
HQ wing, a machine gun company, and three rifle companies,162 which
affected the class composition163 of the various regiments.164 This was
the last major reorganisation until 1938.165
The three chief roles of the Indian Army during the period between
the end of the First World War and 1939 were providing Aid to the

157
Regiments: 1st Punjab, 2nd Punjab, 3rd Madras, 4th Bombay Grenadiers, 5th Mahratta
Light Infantry, 6th Rajputana Rifles, 7th Rajput, 8th Punjab, 9th Jat, 10th Baluch, 11th
Sikh, 12th FFR, 13th FFRifles, 14th Punjab, 15th Punjab, 16th Punjab, 17th Dogra,
18th Royal Garhwal Rifles, 19th Hyderabad, 20th Burma Rifles (left Indian Army
establishment in 1937). See Army Instructions No. 58 (1922), L/MIL/7/5483, OIOC,
BL. Some examples: 2/1st Punjab – old 66th Punjab Regiment; 1/11th Sikh – old 14th
King George’s Own Ferozepore Sikh; 4/12th FFR – old 54th Sikh (Frontier Force). The
numbering is represented thus: 2/1st Punjab is the 2nd battalion 1st Punjab Regiment.
Another example: 1/11th Sikh is 1st battalion, 11th Sikh Regiment.
158
On the whole most regiments had five regular battalions, numbered 1–5, and one
training battalion, numbered the 10th battalion. There were exceptions to this rule.
159
Gurkha regiments numbered ten. As noted previously, they had been grouped into ten
regiments in 1903, with two battalions per regiment. Each battalion had four active
companies and one training company: 15 Apr. 1926, L/MIL/7/5483, OIOC, BL.
160
The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Battalions of the 11th Sikh Regiment were single-class battalions
made up of Jat Sikhs, whereas the 4th, 5th, and 10th Battalions were a mixed unit of two
companies of Jat Sikhs and two companies of Punjabi Musalmans. The 17th Dogras
were made up of all one class of Dogra Rajputs.
161
Gaylor, Sons of John Company, pp. 18–19.
162
Previous to 1929, battalions had four double companies, which meant that different
classes would be represented in a single company. By 1929 there was a desire to have
one class for each company. Depending upon the regiment, some units had all the same
class in the battalion, while others (the majority) had mixed battalions of various
companies.
163
See section on recruitment for definition of class composition.
164
Maj. Mahommed Ibrahim Qureshi, The First Punjabis: History of the 1st Punjab Regiment
(Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1958), pp. 258–9.
165
See section on the Chatfield Committee.

Civil Power166 (IS garrison), and carrying out policing duties on the
North-West Frontier167 (Covering Troops) and conventional warfare
(Field Army).168 It did not seem likely that the Indian Army would ﬁght
a European power again, although conventional training remained a
centrepiece of tactical training.
As a result of the Amritsar Massacre of 1919,169 the Indian and
British Army units were given clear instructions: ‘Your troops should
be kept in a position to make use of the weapons at their disposal

166
To many in the army as well as in the Government of India, this was considered to be
the most important mission. Aid to the Civil Power was defined by minimum use of
force, civil–military co-operation, and deterrence of unrest. There are many accounts by
British and Indian Army officers of difficult experiences with IS. One of the best and
most accessible is by Field Marshal Sir William Slim, Unofficial History (London:
Cassell, 1959); see pp. 75–98. Many of the key principles taught and developed for
the Indian Army in this role – human intelligence, civil–military relations, and
minimum force – are still discussed to this day within various militaries.
167
Units of the Indian Army had been carrying out countless small- and large-scale
campaigns in the North-West Frontier region since the mid 1800s. The tribes
(commonly referred to as Pathans) living in the region periodically came down from
the hills to attack civil and military outposts in the region for various reasons. The army
continuously maintained troops in the area as a buffer between the tribal regions and the
plains below. Units were regularly called upon to ‘open’ tracks or roads to relieve
pressure on a post under tribal attack. Over the course of many years the Indian
Army had developed various tactics to deal with these incursions. During the 1930s
there were two major frontier operations, each of which involved a large amount of
troops. These were the Mohmand operation, Aug.–Sep. 1935, and the Waziristan
operations of 1936–7. For a very detailed analysis of the doctrine and various major
actions of the time and region, see Timothy Moreman’s The Army in India and the
Development of Frontier Warfare, 1849–1947 (London: Macmillan, 1998). For specific
details of operations, see ‘Report on the Mohmand Operations’, pp. 18–19, L/MIL/7/
16968, OIOC, BL, and ‘Report of the 1st Phase of Operations’, L/MIL/7/16971,
OIOC, BL.
168
The Army in India (Indian Army and British Army units) of 1931 was deployed as
follows:
British Army units: five cavalry regiments, four in the Field Army and one on IS duty;
British Infantry battalions: five battalions on Frontier duty (Covering Troops); twelve in
the Field Army; four on IS duty; two in Burma.
Indian Army units: five cavalry regiments on Frontier duty; seven attached to the
Field Army; seven lines of communication duties; two on IS duties; Indian Infantry
battalions: thirty-seven on Frontier duty; thirty-six in the Field Army; twelve lines of
communication duty; eleven on IS duty; and two in Burma.
The Field Army units were trained and organised for conventional defence of any
invasion by a neighbouring country (chiefly Afghanistan), while the covering troops
were stationed in the NWFP and Baluchistan on frontier duties. See L/MIL/17/5/1793,
OIOC, BL.
169
See Report of the Committee appointed by the Government of India to investigate the
disturbances in the Punjab, L/MIL/17/1/12/42, OIOC, BL; ‘Statement by Brigadier
R. E. Dyer’ in Evidence Taken before the Disorders Inquiry Committee, Vol. III,
Amritsar, V/26/262/5, OIOC, BL; Collett, Butcher of Amritsar; Alfred Draper,
Amritsar: The Massacre That Ended the Raj (London: Cassell, 1981); and Charles
Gwynn, Imperial Policing (London: Macmillan, 1934), for more information.

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Organisation and roles of the army in the inter-war period 39

and they should not be committed to a hand to hand struggle with the
mob.’ The orders also stated that, in a case where it was necessary to
open fire, verbal warning should be given or bugles used to get the
crowd’s attention; the number of rounds fired should be named and
noted; and fire should be directed at the front of the crowd or at
conspicuous ringleaders.170
The Indian Army was called out many times during the 1920s and
1930s as an Aid to the Civil Power. Omissi noted that in 1922, over a
four-month period, the army was called out on sixty-two occasions.171
Usually they were summoned to disperse crowds who were engaged in
communal violence, political agitation, trade union protests, and general
dacoit behaviour.172 There was only one serious incident involving the
army in a major episode of civil unrest; this took place in the North-West
Frontier in the city of Peshawar in 1930.173
In the end, success in IS174 rested with the ability of the ICS, IP, and
Indian Army collaborating on many levels to truly create civil–military
co-operation and to make sure that all individuals were working within
the confines of civil and military law and utilising correct and actionable
intelligence, usually from the ICS and IP, who understood the area. The
district magistrate usually represented the ICS, while the commissioner
of police and usually the general officer commanding (GOC) represented
the security line. By the 1930s the three services had instructions, doc-
trine,175 and training176 in the various roles of IS. The troops and police
tended to work together when they were called in. The military would

170
L/MIL/17/5/4252, OIOC, BL. For an account of the development of the IS doctrine for
the Indian Army during the inter-war period, see Srinath Raghavan, ‘Protecting the Raj:
The Army in India and Internal Security, 1919–1939’, Small Wars and Insurgencies, 16,
3 (Dec. 2005), pp. 253–79, and for more details see Gyanesh Kudaisya, ‘“In Aid of
Civil Power”: The Colonial Army in Northern India, 1919–1942’, Journal of Imperial
and Commonwealth History, 32, 1 (Jan. 2004), pp. 41–68.
171
Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, p. 219.
172
Dacoit behaviour, defined legally, referred to an armed robbery involving five or more
people. The British authorities expanded the definition to include any civil or guerrilla
activity. See ibid., p. 220.
173
See Francis Ingall, The Last of the Bengal Lancers (London: Leo Cooper, 1988), ‘Red
Shirts and Afridis’, pp. 47–51, for a practitioner’s view of the Aid to the Civil Power.
174
See Chapter 5 for a much more detailed discussion of IS duties and the development of
doctrine and actual performance in the field.
175
Several manuals were developed specifically to focus on IS. The starting points were
Manual of Indian Military Law, Manual of Military Law, Regulations for the Army in India,
followed by more directive works including Security Instructions, India, 1937, as well as
the War Office publications Duties in the Aid of the Civil Power.
176
Officers were instructed in IS at both the British Army Staff College, Camberley, and
the Indian Army Staff College, Quetta, as well as the Senior Officer’s School, India.
Regiments and battalions also carried out various Tactical Exercises Without Troops
(TEWTS): Raghavan, ‘Protecting the Raj’, pp. 272–3.

provide lectures to the civilian agencies on IS. The overall emphasis in all
of this was the ability to gather timely, and disseminate actionable,
intelligence on potential ‘troublemakers’ within the community. Overall,
the system worked well, although there were numerous instances of
friction due to personality clashes and differing interpretations of
manuals, directives, and the like.177
Following the violence at Amritsar, drills and training were stepped
up, especially within the army, to avoid any recurrence of violence on
that scale. To give an overview of the system, Brigadier R. C. B. Bristow,
a veteran who had served from the 1920s to the middle of the Punjab
violence of 1947, stated:
Responsibility for calling out the troops rested with the civil authority. If the
police were unable to control a rioting mob, threatening life and property, a
magistrate would ask the officer commanding the troops on the spot to disperse
them, which he confirmed in writing by signing a form. If possible, the troops
would run out barbed wire to their front so as to avoid a hand to hand encounter.
A red banner was unfurled between two poles warning the mob to disperse, or
else the troops would fire . . . If the mob still refused to withdraw, the officer had
the duty to disperse them by using minimum force. Warnings were seldom
ignored, but if they were the officer would normally order one man to fire one
round at the ringleader. If that failed to disperse the mob, fire would be gradually
increased by a few rounds at a time, and stopped immediately the mob showed
signs of moving away. Empty cartridge cases would be collected and counted
to prove the use of minimum force, for a court of enquiry would certainly follow.
As soon as possible the wounded would be given first aid.178
While this sequence may appear fairly formalised and straightforward, in
action things were more complicated. The future field marshal Sir Wil-
liam Slim noted in his discussion of Aid to the Civil Power that instruc-
tions such as the Indian Army’s IAF D908 (Instructions to Officers Acting
in the Aid of the Civil Power for Dispersal of Unlawful Assemblies) ‘[were] a
useful thing to have about’. He felt that the four pages helped effectively
summarise the many legal volumes on what he could and could not do in
the IS role, including the need for the magistrate to sign the fourth
detachable page. As he stated, when he found himself in the middle of
a disturbance: ‘keep your troops in a position to make use of their
weapons . . . do not commit them to hand to hand struggle . . . act in
the closest co-operation with the civil authorities . . . get the magistrate to
fill in the card’.179

177 178
Ibid., p. 262. Bristow, Memories, p. 28.
179
Slim, Unofﬁcial History, pp. 77–81. As stated above, the chapter ‘Aid to the Civil
Power’, pp. 75–98, in the Unofﬁcial History provides a succinct understanding of the
tensions and the issues that can arise in this role.

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Organisation and roles of the army in the inter-war period 41

This formalised structure during the inter-war period worked fairly

well in containing communal violence as well as political agitation that
sometimes became violent. Troops were called out regularly, but fre-
quently were not required to use force to dispel a crowd. The ability of
the ICS and IP to provide accurate intelligence and other important
information allowed for the troops to quell disturbances quite easily.
The bedrock of order, the civil–military team during this period, would
encounter major problems during the post-Second World War period, as
will be discussed later. For the inter-war period, as Gyanesh Kudaisya
noted: ‘Though the “in the aid to the civil power” function experienced
routinisation in the 1920 contraction and partial withdrawal180 in the
late 1930s . . . the internal security troops remained extraordinarily
effective.’181
The effectiveness of the army in India’s ability to deal with IS was
further reinforced by the findings of a series of reorganisation committees
that were formed in both India and the United Kingdom in the late
1930s. Maj. Gen. Claude Auchinleck182 was made deputy chief of the
General Staff, India, in 1936. The commander-in-chief of the Indian
Army at this time was Gen. Sir Robert Cassels, and he instructed
Auchinleck to form a committee to assess the capability of the Indian
Army to modernise for war.183 The specific roles of the army were to be
clearly defined for all to understand.
Auchinleck’s findings outlined several roles for the army. The first
designation was the Frontier Defence Troops, which would encompass
most of the army’s strength. The second grade was the IS Troops,
reflecting the continuing need for troops to be ready to give service in
Aid to the Civil Power. The last three categories indicate the changing
focus of the army’s priorities at the end of the 1930s. Coast Defence
Troops were established to guard the ports of Bombay (Mumbai),
Madras (Chennai), Calcutta (Kolkatta), and Karachi from foreign

180
See below, pp. 42–3, for discussion of the Chatfield Committee.
181
Kudaiysa, ‘“In Aid of Civil Power”’, p. 63.
182
Auchinleck served with the 62nd Punjab Regiment, later the 1/1st Punjab Regiment,
and won a Distinguished Service Order (DSO) in the First World War. He served as an
instructor at the Indian Staff College, Quetta, and commanded the Peshawar Brigade
during the Mohmand operations of 1935. He later became commander-in-chief of the
Indian Army on two occasions during the Second World War, and was considered a
man of reforming ideals by many ex-Indian officers and men. He was a champion of the
Indian officer, disliked the pre-war segregation system, and was not inclined to believe
that there were only specific martial races in the country. More of his reforming ideas
will be dealt with later. He is a large figure in this work both for his ability and desire to
reform the army and for his position as the commander-in-chief, India, from mid 1943
until the end of the Raj in August 1947.
183
Known as the Modernisation Committee.

invasion. The General Reserve was made up of units prepared to

reinforce all of the categories listed above. The External Defence Troops,
the last and smallest contingent, were to be a rapid reaction force to
defend outposts vital to India’s security (e.g. Aden). All of these recom-
mendations were accepted by the commander-in-chief without any
changes.184
The British government formed a committee to assess how to bring
about the modernisation of the Indian armed forces, and to report on the
overall expenditure that would be needed to achieve the necessary improve-
ments.185 This report was initiated after a similar committee had met to
determine the modernisation of the British armed forces in the UK. The
Indian committee was chaired by Admiral of the Fleet Lord Chatfield,186
and included other senior officers of the services. Because Auchinleck had
recently completed his own report, he was made a member of the commit-
tee,187 which held seventy-eight meetings and consulted sixty-three wit-
nesses. It convened in London in January 1939 to finalise the report, which
reached almost the same conclusions as Auchinleck’s earlier report. The
frontier, IS, and coastal defence troops were retained as the top three
priorities, but the external defence troops disappeared and were replaced
with air defence troops to guard India against air attack. The General
Reserve became the fifth role for the Indian Army and was designated to
deal with any unforeseen emergency and to reinforce any of the troops
listed above. In peace-time, the highest formation would be a brigade.188
While Auchinleck was a member of the Chatfield Committee, he did
not fully agree with its final report. His two major criticisms concerned
the proposals to disband units and to deploy troops in Western Com-
mand.189 The Chatfield report proposed to disband two Indian cavalry

184
Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 467, and Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 68–9.
185
The Expert Committee on the Defence of India, 1938–9.
186
It was subsequently referred to as the Chatfield Committee, L/MIL/5/886, OIOC, BL.
187
No. 2, 24 Oct. 1938, Letter from India Office, Whitehall to Auchinleck, in the Field
Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck Papers at the University of Manchester.
188
Brigade HQ, three infantry battalions, and one cavalry regiment: L/MIL/17/5/1805,
OIOC, BL.
189
India had been divided into four commands since the reorganisations of 1895. The
terms used were Southern, Central, Northern, and Eastern Commands. During the
Second World War, the commands changed their names into ‘armies’ and the Northern
and Western Commands were amalgamated into Northwestern. In 1945, the
commands were reorganised and relisted as Northern, Eastern, Central and Southern
Commands and then specific ‘city’ designations. Northern Command covered the
Punjab to the NWFP. Eastern Command stretched from Delhi to the Burma frontier,
including Calcutta and as far south as Central Command, constituting the vast central
provinces. Southern Command covered all areas south of the Central Provinces,
including Bombay and Madras.

regiments and fourteen infantry battalions, and to withdraw two British

cavalry regiments and six battalions of infantry. Auchinleck felt that this
would cause major disruption in India.190 The report went further in
terms of IS: it called for a major reduction of both British and Indian
army forces to support the mission of IS.191 Auchinleck believed that,
with growing tensions in Europe, there was likely to be a need for Indian
Army regiments and battalions – troops that needed to be able to con-
tend with any modern European power, not just Pathan tribesmen.

Conclusion
The Indian Army of 1939 appeared prepared to carry out its chief
missions: duty on the North-West Frontier and IS. It was a professional
force that could cope with most of the pressures of the 1930s. Its soldiers,
NCOs, VCOs, and officers were loyal to their regiments. Due partly to its
restricted recruitment processes, it had been able to carry out its missions
with professionalism in a largely apolitical atmosphere. The political
upheaval of the 1920s and 1930s further insulated the army from the
rest of India’s experience; this isolation provoked various Indian nation-
alist politicians, who came to consider the Indian Army a purely mercen-
ary force – nothing more than the ‘sword of the Raj’. This disconnect and
suspicion between the army and the future leaders of both India and
Pakistan were significant contributors to the problems that flared in the
post-Second World War period, and the resulting manipulations and
distrust that characterised relations among the various parties.
The questions of recruitment and the Indianisation process became
points of contention between the Indian nationalists and the British
authorities that would not be overcome until the advent of the Second
World War. The process of Indianisation, although slow and segregated,
proved to be useful as the starting point for the rapidly expanding Indian
Army during the first years of the Second World War. The Indianisation
process had support from the higher and lower echelons of the Indian
Army, and the Second World War was the excuse required to disband
the pre-war system and promote the need for Indian officers. War-time
requirements also provided the opportunity to open up the recruitment
process. This was an especially significant development because, unlike

190
Because the Second World War broke out soon after the report was submitted, no units
were disbanded.
191
British units were to be reduced from twenty-six to twenty-one and Indian Army units
were to be reduced from twenty to eleven. See Kudaisya, ‘“In Aid of Civil Power”’,
p. 58, and L/MIL/5/886, OIOC, BL.

the First World War, many of the new classes recruited would have a role
to play in the post-war army and thus in the future of independent India.
The Indian Army was on the verge of becoming fully modernised, but
the advent of war in Europe and Asia constrained its ability to expand
and deploy for war. The war years would be bumpy ones for the Indian
Army, but it was already demonstrating the ﬂexibility and innovative
thinking that would make the crucial difference in the Second World
War. While the Indian Army would expand beyond all expectations
and include more Indians in both the ranks and the ofﬁcer corps,
its prospects were marred by a lack of strategic planning on the part
of both Indian nationalists and British authorities as the war came to an
end in 1945.

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2 The performance of the Indian Army
in the Second World War

As the tanks burst away down the road to Rangoon . . . [the Fourteenth
Army] took possession of the empire we had built . . . Twenty races, a
dozen religions, a score of languages passed in those trucks and tanks.
When my great-great-grandfather first went to India there had been as
many nations; now there was one – India . . . It was all summed up in the
voice of an Indian colonel of artillery. Now the Indian, bending close to
an English colonel over a map, straightened and said with a smile, ‘OK,
George. Thanks. I’ve got it. We’ll take over all tasks at 1800. What
about a beer?’1
It would be difficult to overstate how far-reaching and fundamental were
the changes that the Indian Army went through in the Second World
War. In 1945, it was a highly professional and modern force that
included in its ranks representatives of ethnic groups that had tradition-
ally been ignored as ‘non-martial’ as well as Indian commissioned
officers (ICOs) in positions of command on the battlefield, and was
bonded by a hard-won esprit de corps. It had played the leading role in
the destruction of the Imperial Japanese Army in Burma, as well as
significant supporting roles in the defeats of the Italian and German
forces in North and East Africa and Italy. Throughout all of these
engagements, the Indian Army also continued to maintain its traditional
duties of frontier defence on the North-West Frontier and Aid to the
Civil Power in India. In almost every way, the Indian Army of 1945 –
battle-seasoned, imbued with regimental esprit de corps, and above all
victorious – was a different force from the one that suffered crippling
defeats in the difficult early days of the Second World War.
Through all the upheaval of the war years, the Indian Army’s officers
and men kept focused on the need to learn from the mistakes that were
inevitable for any force finding itself in new situations and environments
with inexperienced personnel. The army had a number of teething

1
John Masters, The Road Past Mandalay: A Personal Narrative (London: Michael Joseph,
1961), pp. 312–13.

troubles as it grew in strength and experience, but it was always able to

point with pride to its ability to learn from mistakes and adapt to condi-
tions. The Indian Army of 1944–5 had answered the question Gen. Sir
Phillip Chetwode posed, in 1934, at the Indian Army Staff College:
[A]m I altogether wrong in thinking that, to many Englishmen, to be independent
in thought, to have imagination, to go outside the obvious, to be different to
others, is to be almost un-English, or even that more frightful crime, ‘not sound’?2
The Indian Army’s formations, units, soldiers, NCOs, viceroy commis-
sioned ofﬁcers (VCOs), and ofﬁcers, in the North African, East African,
Italian, and Burma campaigns, could claim to be independent in
thought, imaginative, willing to go outside the obvious, different – and
very possibly un-English.3
By the beginning of 1944, the Indian Army had reached a level of
performance characterised by consistent and reliable professionalism in
an impressive variety of types and theatres of warfare.4 This success,
particularly in contrast to earlier defeats in Malaya and Burma, reinforced
the army’s perceptions of itself as a truly professional force, and bolstered
esprit de corps throughout the war and into the post-war period, even in the
face of impending national independence and change.5
The ‘fusion’ of battle in bonding combat veterans and veteran identity
in general have not been well understood or considered by historians in
the post-war period. Gen. Archibald Wavell, speaking as viceroy in 1945,
stated that ‘the Indian Army had done splendidly during the war and had
enhanced its own and India’s reputation’.6 The emotional bonds and
sense of pride forged in combat were to be important factors in India’s
move towards independence and the army’s role in that transition,
particularly in relation to how Indian politicians perceived their involve-
ment in the political process.7

2
Raymond Callahan, Churchill’s Generals (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2007),
p. 19.
3
See Timothy Harrison Place, Military Training in the British Army, 1940–1944 (London:
Frank Cass, 2000), David French, Raising Churchill’s Army (Oxford University Press,
2000), and Stephen Hart, Montgomery and the ‘Colossal Cracks’: The 21st Army Group in
Northwest Europe, 1944–1945 (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2000), for a wider discussion of the
issues that plagued the British Army during the same time period and that may provide a
useful comparison with the Indian Army’s performance and issues of reform.
4
The performance of the Indian divisions in the North African campaign remains largely
unexamined. A comparative analysis with other Commonwealth forces is needed.
5
This image of the Indian Army in Indian society had signiﬁcant political weight, as even
members of the Indian National Congress came to recognise.
6
Cabinet Paper, 18 Jul. 1945, TOP, V, 624, p. 1272.
7
Author’s interviews with close to 200 retired Indian Army ofﬁcers in the UK, Pakistan,
and India, 1999–2009.

Many of the themes that emerged in Chapter 1 remained relevant

during the war and carried on into the post-war period and the transition
to independence. These include: professional status and perceptions
thereof; Indianisation; recruitment; Aid to the Civil Power; and issues
of loyalty.

Opening phase
The inception of international hostilities in 1939 sparked a major polit-
ical problem for India. In 1935, the Government of India Act had
secured more domestic autonomy for India, the ﬁrst steps on the road
to independence. New Delhi had given more power to the provincial
governments, but the country had yet to achieve even Dominion status.
This meant that when the United Kingdom declared war on Germany,
India was at war as well. The viceroy8 proclaimed a state of war without
consulting either the Indian National Congress Party, which controlled
eight provincial governments, or the Muslim League. While constitu-
tionally he was not required to do so, many observers felt that it would
have been politic for him to have undertaken some sort of consultation
with the provincial governments before making the proclamation. His
decision underscored that India was still – increasingly unwillingly – a
UK dependency, especially since it was motivated by the possibility that
Congress could choose to embarrass the Government of India by decid-
ing not to support the war.
Following the proclamation, the eight Congress-led provincial govern-
ments of India resigned.9 This was part of a continuing trend of deterior-
ating relations between the Government of India and the Indian
Congress Party, which was eventually to culminate in the Quit India
movement of August 1942.10 By contrast, the two Muslim League-
controlled provinces, Bengal and Sind, offered their support for the
war effort. The Punjab, traditionally strongly connected to the army,
was controlled by the Punjab Unionist Party11 and also offered its
support.
In the ﬁrst months of the war, the British government in London did
not expect to need to use the Indian Army. Offers of troops were

8
Lord Linlithgow, Viceroy of India, 1936–43.
9
Not all Congress party members supported their party in this issue; an ofﬁcial mentioned
in a letter to the viceroy that Thakor Todar Singh, a Congressman, was offering his
services and his ability to recruit members for the army: L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
10
The Quit India movement had a bearing on the army as troops were called out in Aid to
the Civil Power.
11
See Talbot, Khizr Tiwana, for more detail.

declined by Neville Chamberlain and his government,12 who considered

Indian troops in a European war unnecessary (apparently forgetting the
Indian troops who had served with the British Army in the First World
War;13 see Chapter 1 for more detail). Initially, the Indian Army’s focus
was expected to be contending with any potential threat to the North-
West Frontier Province (NWFP), as well as to deal with any speciﬁc Aid
to the Civil Power duties that might arise.14 This assumption on the part
of the British government would prove to be a serious error.
The British government’s initial refusal of troops meant there was no
major expansion of the army from September 1939 to May 1940,15
despite calls throughout India to start recruitment drives for the army.
The call was loudest in the Punjab, which was not surprising because of
the recruitment practices of the previous hundred years and the links
with the Unionist Party.16 As stated in a memo to the viceroy, ‘Everybody
is keenly interested in the possibility of recruitment and there seems little
doubt that if it becomes necessary, we should be able to obtain large
numbers of recruits in this district.’17 Lord Linlithgow, however,
believed that men from more than just the Punjab should be brought
in, possibly recognising that a broader recruitment drive could offset
political pressure from the Congress Party’s anti-war stance.18 He also
recognised that recruitment had come from a variety of provinces and
classes in the First World War, and that those recruits had proved their
worth. Regardless, an ofﬁcial report stated that by 30 June 1940 only

12
Lord Linlithgow to H. G. Haig, Governor of the Punjab, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
13
Two Indian divisions, Lahore and Meerut, arrived in France in October 1914, and other
formations were raised and fought in Mesopotamia and the Middle East. As stated
earlier, the Indian Army played a major role in specific campaigns in the First World
War. More than 1.5 million Indians served and some 50,000 died.
14
Two major formations, the 5th and 11th Brigade Groups (which formed the basis of the
4th Indian Division), which had enough modern equipment and weapons, had been
shipped to Egypt in August–September 1939 as a strategic Imperial Reserve to the area.
See Trench, The Indian Army and the King’s Enemies, p. 138.
15
The regular units of the army were organised into formal division structures. See
Bisheshwar Prasad, Official History of the Indian Armed Forces in the Second World War:
Expansion of the Armed Forces and Defence Organisation (New Delhi: Orient Longmans,
1956), for more details.
16
The governor of the Punjab, H. G. Haig, made the contention that the best soldiers
could be found only in the Punjab, and that it was unnecessary to go anywhere else. He
said that the villages were calling up young men and offering their services for the war:
Haig to Lord Linlithgow, 17 Sep. 1939, and Marsden to Haig, 29 Sep. 1939, L/WS/1/
136, OIOC, BL.
17
Sir Henry Craik to Linlithgow, 16 Sep. 1939, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
18
He specifically said to the commander-in-chief, Gen. Cassels, that recruitment must
encompass other provinces as well. He did not mention non-martial areas but he did not
speak against them either: Linlithgow to Commander-in-Chief Cassels, 24 Sep. 1939,
L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.

20,029 men had been recruited, mostly from the martial races, although
Madrassis and Ahirs19 were also represented.20
The ‘phoney war’ period (September 1939–April 1940) marked a
series of equipment and organisational changes in Indian Army units,
which were limited in their ability to re-equip with modern weapons. The
British Army units in Europe were also having problems preparing for
war, as re-armament programmes had begun only a few years earlier.21
As a result, only a few Indian formations were equipped to deal with
mechanised warfare as they prepared to move to North Africa. These
units were organised into the 5th and 11th Indian Infantry Brigade
groups, and deployed in August and September 1939 to safeguard
the defence of Egypt. The 7th Indian Infantry Brigade group followed
in 1940, and the three brigades formed the nucleus of the 4th Indian
Division, which was the ﬁrst Indian Army unit to see active service in the
Second World War.22

North/East Africa and the Middle East

General Headquarters (GHQ) India envisioned only the possibility of
deployment in a Middle East war. In the event, both the 4th and 5th
Divisions fought in Eritrea (Italian East African region) against the
Italians in very difﬁcult mountainous terrain, where many of the lessons
of ﬁghting on the North-West Frontier came to the fore.23 Both units
performed well against the Italians, earning a good reputation. Both

19
A northern Indian Hindu caste.
20
The official list is as follows: 1,259 Pathans; 5,961 PMS; 3,002 Sikhs; 1,726 Dogras; 18
Gurkhas, 949 Garhwalis; 718 Kumaonis; 1060 Rajputs; 1,469 Jats; 425 Ahirs; 1,278
Mahrattas; 2,164 Madrassis (WS 1680, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL).
21
As a result, India and Burma had to be given low priority for new weapons and
equipment, a policy that all in India agreed with, understanding that the British Army
in Europe should receive precedence, given the greater threat.
22
See Gen. Sir Francis Tuker Papers in the Imperial War Museum, London (henceforth
Tuker Papers, IWM), for a very detailed picture of this division. See also G. R. Stevens,
Red Eagle: The Fourth Indian Division (London: McLaren & Sons, 1948).
23
The first phase of the battle for Keren was an attempt to dislodge the Italians from the
west; the focus then switched to the east, and then back to the west side of the gorge.
Most of the fighting centred on the western side, along what became known as Cameron
Ridge. After the first attacks of 4–12 February, the 5th Indian Division withdrew to the
rear to resupply and undertake further training in mountain warfare. The second attack,
on 15 March, involved both divisions in attacks along the ridges, trying to find a
breakthrough. Bitter fighting ensued; the Indian divisions seized the vital ridges and
held on against an Italian counter-attack. By 27 March, the Italians were withdrawing
from their defences, and Keren fell without a fight. The two Indian divisions followed up
the Italian withdrawal and captured the vital port of Massawa on 8 April. See Gen. Sir
Geoffrey Evans, The Desert and the Jungle (London: Kimber, 1959), as well as Evans,
Tiger Kills (London: HMSO, 1944), for more details on the fighting in Eritrea.

Figure 2.1 Victorious soldiers in the North African campaign

formations returned to North Africa. Maj. (later Gen. Sir) Geoffrey

Evans, then brigade major in the 11th Indian Infantry Brigade, recalled:
‘we were sent out into the desert . . . and since our training for desert
warfare had been hard and continuous, we were ﬁt, we were tough and
we were ready for battle’.24
The defeat of France in 1940, along with Italy’s entry into the war,
changed the strategic map, and the British government reversed its
decision and called for the Indian Army’s expansion. Six new units were
raised from summer 1940 to summer 1941: the 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th,

24
Evans, Desert and Jungle, p. 17.

and 11th Indian divisions.25 By the end of 1941, the 14th, 17th, 19th,
20th, and 34th Indian Infantry and 32nd Armoured Divisions were also
forming.26 The Indian Army expanded from about 200,000 men and
officers to more than 1 million between 1939 and 1941. As a result of this
rapid growth, many units lacked properly trained officers27 and men,
which was to play a major impact on the formations and units that
deployed to the Far East – chiefly, Malaya and Burma.28
The rapid expansion of the Indian Army was driven by the need to
have an Imperial Reserve, and the deployments of 1941 truly highlighted
this demand on the Indian Army. The various deployments are not
examined here in depth, but an overview demonstrates that the Indian
Army was being overstretched as a result of the expansion policy. The
expansion also had a negative impact on training officers, with minimal
training and experience, to effectively command in the field. This led
to small mutinies and command-and-control issues in the early
campaigns.29
The fear of a Russian attack in the NWFP kept large numbers of troops
stationed in the area, while German meddling in the internal affairs of
Iraq prompted the mobilisation of the 8th Indian Division.30 The 8th

25
The divisional structure was to follow the British system: three brigades, with three
battalions of infantry. However, over the course of the next two years, each brigade was
restructured to have two Indian battalions and one British battalion. The British
battalion was there as the ‘backbone’ for the brigade. As will be demonstrated by
subsequent events, the perceived need for a British backbone was outdated and
unnecessary.
26
Prasad, Official History: Expansion, pp. 212–30.
27
See pp. 22–5 for a discussion of the ending of the pre-war Indianisation process.
28
Author’s interview with Brig. J. Randle, 10 Apr. 2000; Lt C. R. L. Coubrough, 27 Mar.
2000, 7/10th Baluch; and Maj. T. Kirkwood, 15 Mar. 2000, 1/11th Sikh.
29
This was highlighted by many officers I interviewed both for this book and for Phoenix
from the Ashes: The Indian Army in the Burma Campaign (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003).
See also Bristow, Memories, p. 117. He emphasises the lack of language ability of many
new officers who joined his battalion.
30
Iraq, which had become an independent state in 1930, suffered a military coup d’état in
March 1941. The British government considered the Iraqi Army pro-German, and this
situation, combined with threats in North Africa and the Balkans, motivated London
and GHQ India to act. The 20th Indian Brigade, 10th Indian Division, was earmarked to
land at Basra in April. One junior officer described the advance into Basra: ‘in the event
there was no opposition. As we approached Basra I remember clearly passing an Iraqi
Army barracks with a parade ground. A medium machine gun unit with its British-made
Vickers was on parade. The guns were lined up with their locks open, as if to show there
was not hostile intent.’ This was important, as he noted that ‘fortunately we were not
called up to defend the place [the RAF base at Shaiba] because the battalion were
woefully inexperienced’ (Ken Ross, ‘With the 2/8th Gurkhas in Iraq 1941–1942’, Red
Flash, no. 22, p. 55). The 21st and 25th Brigades arrived in Basra shortly thereafter, and
the 10th Division, once completed, moved towards Baghdad. They struck north, seizing
the valuable oilfields in and around Mosul. The 21st Indian Brigade then moved into

division landed in Kuwait and pushed north, through Basra and then on
to the capital, Baghdad. It seized Baghdad and was followed by the 10th
Indian Division,31 sent to the region to protect British interests in the
area from any internal rebellion. Later, in mid 1942, Iran was invaded by
both divisions, under the pretext that the Persian government could not
protect itself from a possible German attack. This operation required the
creation of Persia and Iraq Force (PAIFORCE).32
In retrospect, the period from 1941 to 1943 was one of the most
difficult in the history of the Indian Army. While lack of equipment
was generally considered its greatest weakness, the over-expansion of
officer and other ranks played a major role in the army’s poor perform-
ance early in the war. Existing regular units were ‘milked’33 of cadres of
men and officers to bolster newly established units,34 providing a core of
experience for the new unit but also weakening the older one.35 A slow

western Syria to support British efforts there. At the same time the campaign in Iraq was
getting under way, the 5th Indian Brigade, 4th Indian Division, had been sent to
Palestine to aid in the capture of Vichy Syria. The attack into Syria began in May, and
ended within three weeks with the capture of Damascus. Still one of the best sources for
the reasons and the operations in both Iraq and Persia (Iran) was written in 1948. See
Paiforce: The Official Story of the Persia and Iraq Command, 1941–1946 (London: HMSO,
1948), as well as John Connell, Auchinleck: A Critical Biography (London: Cassell, 1959),
pp. 180–233, and the Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, for more details,
including specific correspondence between Gen. Auchinleck and senior command in
London.
31
This division was commanded by Maj. Gen. William Slim, who played a large role
during the war. He is widely considered to be the best British general since the Duke of
Wellington, even though he was in the Indian Army. See Callahan, Churchill’s Generals,
as well as Slim’s own memoir, Defeat into Victory (London: Cassell, 1956), for more
detail. Defeat into Victory is one of the best memoirs written by a senior officer, due to its
self-criticism and honesty; not many generals admit making mistakes in battle.
32
The oilfields of Persia (Iran) also became a strategic consideration during the summer of
1941. The Germans had placed agents in Tehran, as they had done in Iraq the previous
spring. The British and the Soviets decided to mount a joint invasion of Persia, to begin
on 25 August 1941, in the hope of safeguarding the oilfields and potentially establishing
supply routes through Persia. The Soviets planned to invade the northern regions, along
with the 8th and 10th Indian Divisions from Iraq. The British, meanwhile, seized
Tehran, effectively completing the invasion. One veteran described the reasons for the
invasion as ‘justifiable only on the grounds of war-necessity’. See Trench, The Indian
Army and the King’s Enemies, p. 159. To safeguard the conquests of Persia, men
equivalent to nearly two and a half Indian divisions performed internal security duties
in the occupied territories over the remainder of the war. Both the 8th and 10th Indian
Divisions would eventually be shifted to the Middle East fighting.
33
The process of ‘milking’ was detrimental to many units due to lack of cohesion that
ensued. However, with the impetus to expand quickly, there was no obvious alternative.
34
By the end of the war, some regiments would have close to twenty numbered battalions
in their organisation. See Gaylor, Sons of John Company, and Prasad, Official History:
Expansion, for more detailed descriptions.
35
An example is of an order dated 29 November 1940 that states that it was necessary
to raise sixty-three battalions. However, only 30 per cent of units still stationed in

expansion could allow for the regular unit to absorb new emergency
commissioned ofﬁcers (ECOs) and new enlisted men to replace those
sent off to new units, but the pace of expansion meant that regular units
were being drawn on more than once to ﬁll the new units, and the
reserves of the small professional force dried up rapidly.36 Newly raised
units themselves were even ‘milked’ for the higher-numbered battalions
within a given regiment, which caused problems when units were posted
with minimal training.37 While the 4th and 5th Indian Divisions
performed well in the North African campaign,38 the issues caused by
too-rapid expansion affected the Malaya and Burma campaigns more
noticeably.39
The early successes of late 1940 and early 1941 in East and North
Africa were short-lived for British and Commonwealth forces. The
Italians reinforced their Libyan army, and the Germans intervened when
Gen. Erwin Rommel arrived with the Afrikakorps in February 1941.
Rommel launched a major counteroffensive on 24 March, not long after
the 3rd Indian Motor Brigade arrived in North Africa.40 Some of the best
troops of the British forces had been redeployed elsewhere, principally
Greece and East Africa. The Germans and the Italians smashed into the
British forces left in the region and pushed them back across Libya.41
Gen. Sir Archibald Wavell,42 commander-in-chief, North Africa, waited

India were regular units. The rest had been sent overseas as part of the 4th and 5th
Indian Divisions. See Adj. Generals Branch: Indian Infantry Expansion, L/WS/1/394,
OIOC, BL.
36
In 1939, the Army in India (British and Indian units) numbered around 200,000 men.
37
It was speciﬁcally stated that raw recruits should not be sent overseas. However, as
demands on the army increased over the next year, this order could not always be
followed: L/WS/1/394, OIOC, BL.
38
They comprised regular formations and units and were not ‘milked’ as heavily as the
army expanded.
39
See pp. 64–76 for more discussion.
40
The experience of this brigade highlights the heavy ﬁghting in North Africa, as it was
over-run and re-formed on two occasions. In the end, it was withdrawn in late 1942 to
Iraq where it was once again re-formed and renumbered as the 43rd Indian Infantry
Brigade (Lorried). All the cavalry regiments were replaced with Gurkha battalions. The
brigade went on to serve with distinction in the Italian campaign.
41
The performance of the Indian divisions in the North African campaign remains largely
unexamined. Alan Jeffries is writing a major work that will add needed depth of
knowledge. A comparative analysis with other Commonwealth forces is required as
well, although Callahan’s Churchill’s Generals covers some of the important debates.
There are many reasons for British tactical and operational shortcomings in the North
African campaign. Two very good books that focus on these issues are French, Raising
Churchill’s Army, and Niall Barr, Pendulum of War: The Three Battles of El Alamein
(London: Jonathan Cape, 2004).
42
Gen. Wavell later played a large role in the Indian Army during the late war and the post-
war periods, in his capacities of commander-in-chief, India, and viceroy of India.

for the remainder of the 4th Indian Division to arrive, as well as replace-
ment tanks for the 7th Armoured Division, before launching the British
counter-attack, Operation Battleaxe, on 15 June. The offensive failed,
and units of the 4th Indian and supporting tanks from the 7th Armoured
Division were forced back to their original positions. In July 1941, Wavell
was replaced as commander-in-chief for the Middle East by Gen.
Sir Claude Auchinleck.43 Meanwhile, the Afrikakorps and British and
Commonwealth forces licked their wounds and prepared for the autumn
offensives. The British Western Desert Force was renamed the Eighth
Army as planning for the campaign got under way.
Gen. Auchinleck waited for reinforcements to arrive before he ordered
another offensive in North Africa. Operation Crusader was scheduled to
begin in November. The 4th Indian Division, commanded by Maj. Gen.
Frank Messervy,44 was part of XIII Corps, who were ordered to attack
the major enemy defensive positions (known as the ‘Omars’) to support
the main drive of XXX Corps.
Units of the 4th Indian Division had been reconnoitring the area since
September.45 Lessons from earlier campaigns had been compiled and
disseminated via the Army in India Training Memoranda (AITM).
Reports from the 4th and, later, the 5th Indian Divisions were regularly
disseminated throughout the army for training purposes.46
The general offensive began on the night of 18/19 November. XXX
Corps crossed the frontier and headed north-west, hoping to destroy
Axis forces between Tobruk and the frontier. By 22 November, XXX
Corps and the rest of XIII Corps were pushing hard to reach their
objectives. The attack by XXX Corps was being heavily engaged by the
Germans and Italians. A large gap had opened between XXX and XIII
corps, which Gen. Rommel made haste to exploit. Auchinleck sacked the
Eighth Army commander, Gen. Sir Alan Cunningham, and replaced
him with Gen. Neil Ritchie. Confusion reigned within the British and

43
See Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 237–653 (Book III), for a more detailed discussion of
Auchinleck’s tenure as CinC Middle East. Book III has much personal
correspondence between Auchinleck and other members of senior command in both
India and London. See also Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, for more
details.
44
He would go on to command the 7th Indian Division in the second Arakan campaign of
1944 and a corps in Burma. In the post-war period, he would command Northern
Command and, upon India’s independence, he became chief of staff in the Pakistan
Army.
45
The professionalism of the two formations was noted.
46
See War Diary entries, ‘Defence Notes’, WO 169/3289, National Archives (NA) as well
as AITM, nos. 2–9. The future commander of 4th Indian, Maj. Gen. Tuker, created
more than forty ‘training instructions’ for his units during his two years as commander.
See 71/12/2, Tuker Papers, IWM.

Commonwealth forces as reports circulated about German movements

along the front. The 4th Indian Division, supported by both the 5th and
11th Brigades, decided to hold their lines and build up their defensive
positions in the Omars. The ﬁeld artillery of the 4th Indian, with
supporting infantry, held their lines and thwarted various German
attacks for more than two days. The German attack to link up with the
Omar positions and force the British back from Tobruk failed.47
On 25 November, the Allies counter-attacked. The 2nd New Zealand
Division moved towards Tobruk, while the 4th Indian continued the
attacks against the last remnants of the German and Italian defenders in
the Omars. By 30 November, the Omars had been cleared, and the Axis
forces began to retreat on all fronts. The Germans and Italians withdrew
across Cyrenaica once again. This time the retreat was orderly, allowing
them to inﬂict substantial damage upon the British forces on their heels.
The Central India Horse seized Benghazi before Christmas, followed
closely by the rest of the 4th Indian Division.48
While units of the 4th Indian Division, under the command of Maj.
Gen. F. I. S. Tuker,49 were stationed in western Cyrenaica in late 1941,
Rommel struck.50 With Rommel moving towards Benghazi, confusion
reigned. Reports indicated German tanks to the north and east of
Benghazi; it became apparent that the Germans had created a large gap
between the 1st Armoured and the 4th Indian in Benghazi. On 27
January, Tuker and his command staff left Benghazi, and the 7th Brigade
was ordered to hold on in the town. The 5th Brigade was ordered to
withdraw further to the east to avoid the German advance. The 7th was
encircled and cut off from the roads to the north. Brig. Harold Briggs,51

47
Refer to Tiger Strikes (HMSO, 1942), pp. 27–46; and 4th Indian Division, Dec. 1941,
WO 169/3289, NA.
48
Tiger Strikes, pp. 46–7; and Dec. 1941, WO 169/3289, NA.
49
Tuker led the 4th Indian for the next two years and instituted a process of ‘lessons
learned’ and training directives: 71/12/2, Tuker Papers, IWM. He also played a large role
in the post-war period, as he commanded Eastern Command in 1946–7 and debated
with Auchinleck on key issues dealing with the post-war period. See Chapters 6 and 7 for
more details. See Tuker Papers, IWM, and Tuker, While Memory Serves (London:
Cassell, 1950), for more details. Tuker wrote his book immediately after the events of
1947. The book draws upon many letters from other officers, VCOs, and soldiers who
served throughout India, as well as operational orders of the day.
50
The professionalism of the 4th Indian Division continued under Tuker’s leadership. He
specifically stated that training must continue. See 14 Jan. 1942, Subject: Training: ‘it is
unfortunately true that the standard of individual training in the division has shown signs
of deterioration and this must be put right’ (71/12/2, Tuker MSS, IWM). The 4th Indian
Division had been split up, 7th Brigade was in Benghazi, the 5th was in the rear in Barce,
and the 11th was in Tobruk.
51
Gen. Briggs went on to command the 5th Indian Division from May 1942. He led the
division during the hectic fighting in North Africa and, later, the important fighting in

in a bold stroke, decided to break out. He divided his brigade into three
groups, and they cut behind the Germans and Italians, before striking
into the open desert and making their way to the British lines at El
Mechili.52 The rest of the 4th Indian Division had already met up with
units of the 5th Indian Division53 in Barce. Serious fighting ensued as the
German and Italian forces came up against the British forces withdrawing
towards Tobruk. They arrived at Acroma, south-west of Tobruk, on 4
February 1942, and began digging defences to hold the line.
March to May 1942 was a stalemate in North Africa. The 4th Indian
Division was relieved,54 and the three brigades were shipped to Cyprus,
Palestine, and the Suez Canal Zone for rest. The 5th Indian Division,
under the command of the recently promoted Maj. Gen. Briggs, took
over their positions. The 10th Indian Division, under the command of
Maj. Gen. T. W. (Pete) Rees,55 was also sent to North Africa from
PAIFORCE to support the British and Commonwealth defences.
On 27 May 1942, Rommel struck once again, hitting the British
positions along the Gazala defence lines. On 20 June 1942, Tobruk56
fell to the Germans, and the British began to retreat back into Egypt.
Elements of the 10th Indian Division put up a stalwart defence at Mersa
Matruh, only to have their flanks exposed and then receive orders on 28
June to break out to the east. By the end of June, the British had
withdrawn to the final defence lines west of El Alamein. The 18th
Indian Brigade put up a valiant defence against Rommel’s advance at
the foot of the strategically important Ruweisat Ridge, stopping the
advance in early July.
On 14 July, the 5th Indian Brigade, 5th Indian Division, successfully
attacked in and around the Ruweisat Ridge, which formed a centrepiece
to the defensive lines at El Alamein. Rommel counter-attacked almost

the Arakan and Imphal regions in Assam in 1944. He also became director of operations
in 1950 during the Malayan Emergency, where he created the ‘Briggs Plan’ for which he
remains famous.
52
4th Indian Division, Jan. and Feb. 1942, WO 169/7529, NA; and Tiger Strikes.
53
After Eritrea, it had gone to Iraq and Cyprus.
54
Even while the division was being split up, Tuker carried out lesson discussions with his
ofﬁcers and created training instructions. As he stated on 13 March, ‘as future moves of
this division have not been settled, division command has decided that individual
training will begin’. Later, in April, he wrote: ‘battle group training will be continued
and two months of training will begin’ (71/12/2, Tuker MSS, IWM).
55
Slim had relinquished command to go to Burma and head up Burma Corps (Burcorps).
The division was taken over by Maj. Gen. Rees, who would later command the 19th
Indian Division in Burma and, more pertinently, the 4th Indian Division and the Punjab
Boundary Force in 1947.
56
The 11th Indian Brigade, 4th Indian Division, was part of the garrison. Some units
continued to ﬁght for 36 hours after the capitulation.

immediately, but failed to gain any ground. Over the course of the
month, the rest of the 5th Indian Division reinforced the area. Rommel
attempted another attack on 30 August, but called it off after two days.
The front had been stabilised, and more troops, along with new tanks,
artillery, and supplies, began to arrive in Egypt.57
On 13 August 1942, Gen. Harold Alexander replaced Auchinleck as
commander-in-chief, Middle East,58 and Gen. Bernard Montgomery
became Eighth Army commander. The 4th Indian Division relieved the
5th Indian Division on the ridge; the 5th left North Africa for Iraq and
was later ordered to India to undergo jungle warfare training for deploy-
ment to Burma in 1943.59 The 10th Indian Division was withdrawn for
garrison duty in Cyprus for close to two years. The 4th Indian was the
sole Indian formation present for the Allied victory in North Africa. Gen.
Tuker carried on with compiling lessons learned in battle and training
instructions for his division throughout.60
Following the heavy fighting of the spring and summer of 1942, the
4th Indian Division and other formations in the Eighth Army were
resupplied and rested for an offensive planned for October. The 4th
Indian Division carried out lesson discussions and training.61 The role
of the 4th Indian Division was to provide support to the main effort; they
were stationed in the southern area of the defensive line and ordered to
carry out raids and tie down the Axis forces in the area. As Gen. Tuker
noted to his officers and men on the first day of the battle (23 October),
‘this is to be a hard fight and prolonged battle. None of us thinks it
will be otherwise . . . [N]o position will be given up. Surrender is
shameful.’62
For ten days, as battle ebbed and flowed to the north, the 4th Indian
Division applied pressure along their defensive lines. With Rommel’s

57
See Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, and Barr, Pendulum of War, for more detail.
58
Auchinleck would return to India without portfolio, until the summer of 1943, when he
took up his ﬁnal and most important post, commander-in-chief, India, where he
remained until independence in 1947. See letter from Amery to Linlithgow, 4 Dec.
1942, TOP, III, 251, p. 340, for a detailed discussion of the need for Auchinleck to be
made CinC once again; as Amery stated: ‘Like myself, he [CIGS, Alanbrooke] feels that
it is really very hard that Auchinleck, who was ideal as CinC and had every expectation of
a full term of ofﬁce, should now be stranded.’
59
See pp. 71–6 for more discussion of the Burma campaign and the role of the 5th Indian
Division.
60
See 71/12/2, Tuker MSS, IWM.
61
The 7th Indian Brigade was not optimistic: ‘D-Day – what is to be the outcome? I do not
expect too much but keep this to myself’ (Personal Diary, 23 Oct. 1942, 91/40/2, Maj.
Gen. A. W. Holworthy MSS, Imperial War Museum (henceforth Holworthy MSS,
IWM)).
62
Personal Diary, 23 Oct. 1942, Tuker Papers, IWM.

tanks cornered towards the coast, orders came on 1 November for

Operation Supercharge. The 5th Indian Brigade was ordered to cut a
line in the Axis defences, to allow the 7th Armoured and 2nd New
Zealand Divisions to strike out. The brigade achieved its goal, and the
Allied divisions thrust forward to destroy the Afrikakorps. The 4th Indian
Division began to round up Axis soldiers in and around the defensive
positions, but pursuit of the Afrikakorps was carried out by other troops.
Gen. Tuker was outraged at plans to use the 4th Indian Division as a
mop-up force, and sent his objections to XXX Corps. Lt Gen. Brian
Horrocks agreed and passed along his thoughts to Gen. Montgomery,
emphasising that ‘There is no doubt that this [4th Indian] is an experi-
enced division, more experienced probably than any other division in the
Middle East.’63 This availed nothing.64
The Afrikakorps withdrew towards Tunisia, pursued by the Eighth
Army. The terrain in Tunisia was dramatically different from the open
desert, and specialist skills were required to overcome the Axis defensive
line positions at the Mareth Line.65 The 4th Indian Division was moved
forward in March 1943, and its units conducted raids and reconnais-
sance patrols assessing the German and Italian defences. Following a
series of unsuccessful attacks by the 50th Division, a revised battle plan
was called for. By the end of March, with valuable support from the 4th
Indian, the 2nd New Zealand Division had enveloped the Mareth Line
from the west, forcing the Axis to withdraw to a series of hills to the
north.
In April, the 4th Indian was assigned a diversionary role in the clear-
ance of the Wadi Akarit positions. The attack involved two brigades, and
the ﬁghting was bitter.66 Eventually the British succeeded in turning the
Axis forces from their defences,67 and the Germans and Italians with-
drew again as Allied forces (First Army) entered the battle from the west.
On 11 May 1943, the German commander of the Afrikakorps and Italian

63
See Tiger Kills, pp. 150–60; Trench, The Indian Army and the King’s Enemies, p. 223; and
Tuker MSS, IWM. Tuker created a system of ‘Patrol Master’, which continued in the
division for the remainder of the war.
64
Tuker referred to Montgomery as ‘self-confident, conceited, very persistent and
tenacious, unimaginative’. See Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, p. 145.
65
Tuker recognised this fact and had ordered a training directive to deal with mountains as
the division moved across Libya. See Box 71/21/2/7, Tuker MSS, IWM.
66
Denis Blomfield-Smith, ed., Fourth Indian Reflections (privately published, 1987), p. 38.
67
An officer from the 4/16th Punjabis described the scene: ‘After a while I saw the platoon
advancing across the valley, turn west across a road, then in open formation, return to
attack another strongly held feature. I could not stop them . . . [A]ll we could do was
provide supporting fire. What a sight! Twenty-five men attacking a high hill, studded
with enemy trenches . . . [The enemy] threw down their arms and surrendered – 300 or
more of them’ (ibid., p. 39).

troops surrendered to Lt Col L. C. J. Showers of the 1/2nd Gurkhas,

ending the war in North Africa. Montgomery’s comment on the Indian
Army’s performance in North Africa was succinct. ‘I sent the First Army
my best’, he said, ‘7th Armoured and 4th Indian.’68

The Italian campaign

Some senior officers and politicians expected that a campaign in Italy
would be easy, referring to it as ‘the soft under-belly of the Axis’. In July
1943, the Allies landed on Sicily, with the Indian Army providing a few
battalions as ‘beachhead’ units.69 The campaign ended quickly; in early
September the Allies crossed to mainland Italy, and the Italians surren-
dered shortly thereafter. The Germans and a hard-core group of fascist
Italian forces decided to defend the peninsula themselves. Italy’s moun-
tainous terrain, numerous rivers, and fortified villages were perfect for
defence, and the Germans knew that they could tie down many Allied
forces with relatively few troops. The Italian topography, combined with
the skill of the German defenders, made the conquest of Italy a long and
bloody campaign that ended only with the surrender of the German
forces in other regions.
The 8th Indian Division landed at Taranto in September 1943. The
Eighth Army, meanwhile, was moving north along the Adriatic coast.
The Germans began to fall back towards their first major defensive
position, the Gustav Line, north of Naples. In early November, the
8th Indian Division began its first major action, crossing the Trigno
River. It took three days of fighting to clear the Germans from their
positions, after which the division moved forward to confront the Sangro
River defences. The division crossed the Sangro on 25 November and
began to fight its way through a series of fortified villages en route to join
up with other divisions and cross the next river, the Moro. The crossing
was successful, and on the other side the units were involved in more
heavy fighting in the villages. By the time the Allies had cleared the area,
winter had set in, slowing the campaign to a series of raids on both sides
of the front. The 8th Indian Division spent the winter months
snowbound.70

68
Trench, The Indian Army and the King’s Enemies, p. 229.
69
No major comparative analysis has been done regarding the performance of Indian Army
formations in the Italian campaign. Alan Jeffreys is intending to write about this
signiﬁcant gap in our understanding in his upcoming monograph.
70
See Tiger Triumphs (London: HMSO, 1946), as well as 8th Indian Division GS, Mar.–
Dec. 1943, WO 169/14766, NA.

Figure 2.2 Indian troops on the move in Italy © Imperial War

Museums (Image No. NA 9807)

The 4th Indian Division had left North Africa for Palestine in the
summer of 1943 for rest and training.71 In early December, the division
was ordered to Italy also. Arriving in the Adriatic sector of the front, they
immediately set out to learn from the formations around them. Tuker
called for a series of lectures and training packages focusing on better
armoured co-operation and the important ‘Town and Village
Fighting’.72
Early in February 1944, the division was sent, with the 2nd New
Zealand Division, to serve under the command of the US Fifth Army

71
During this six-month period, Tuker and his commanders set out to create training
exercises emphasising the lessons learned from the recent North Africa campaigns:
Jun.–Dec. 1943, WO 169/14735, NA.
72
See Tuker MSS, IWM, and Jun.–Dec. 1943, WO 169/14735, NA.

and to seize the town of Cassino and the surrounding hills. This action
would involve the two divisions in a prolonged, bloody, and attritional
battle for just one section of the Gustav Line. The fight for Cassino
encompassed four major battles.73 The US troops had failed in the first
attack in January. The Indians and New Zealanders took part in the
defeats of the second and third battles. The German troops in and
around Cassino were some of the best troops in the German order of
battle and had the advantage of excellent defensive arrangements,
centred around Cassino itself, the mountains, and the monastery over-
looking the town.74 Tuker was replaced, due to illness, just before the
division went into battle. The 4th Indian Division took over positions
from the US troops in the area. The first battles for the 4th centred
around the fighting en route to the monastery. As with Keren in East
Africa, only a brigade could be maintained in the area, due to the
mountainous terrain. Two battalions were thrown at the ridge over the
course of four days. All the attacks failed; no ground was taken. The New
Zealanders, in the town, fared no better.75
The third offensive was called for 15 March. The 4th Indian
attempted to seize the monastery and the northern part of town from
a different direction. The fighting centred around Castle Hill, which
the 4th Indian had taken over from the 2nd New Zealand Division, and
the heroic efforts of the 1/9th Gurkhas, who succeeded in reaching
Hangman’s Hill, just below the monastery. Realising the danger they
were in, the Germans attacked the Gurkha positions, and heavy fight-
ing ensued. By 23 March, a stalemate had developed once again. The
two major battles had cost the division more than 4,000 dead and
wounded.76
The fourth and final battle for Cassino involved the 8th Indian
Division, along with other formations from the Eighth Army that took
part in two major flank attacks. The 4th Indian Division had returned
to the Adriatic sector, and the 8th Indian and 4th British Divisions
were to breach the German defences along the Gari River to the south
of Cassino. The attack began on the evening of 11/12 May, as Allied

73
There are many books on the battles in and around Cassino. Three of the best are John
Ellis, Cassino: The Hollow Victory (London: Andre Deutsch, 1994); E. D. Smith, Battles
for Cassino (London: Scribner, 1975); and Fred Majdalany, Cassino: Portrait of a Battle,
3rd edn (London: Orion, 1999).
74
The formations included the veteran 1st Fallschirmjäger (Parachute) Division.
75
See Tiger Triumphs as well as ‘Attack on Cassino: NZ Corps and 4th Indian Operation
Instructions’, WO 204/7275, and Mar.–Jun. 1944, WO 169/18776, NA.
76
The General Staff Ofﬁcer (Grade) 1 for the division, Col J. K. Shepheard, noted that
‘morale is very low in many units’ (‘23 March Situation of the 4th Ind. Div.’, 99/69/1,
Maj. Gen. J. K. Shepheard MSS, IWM).

artillery pounded the German defences. The crossing was a bitter

struggle, but by midday on 12 May various toeholds had been created.
The Germans put up a stiff resistance in and around the town of St
Angelo. After a few days of fierce fighting, it was finally cleared.77
The formations that crossed after a series of heavy fights were able to
pierce the Gustav defences, opening the road to Rome. Allied troops
successfully completed the link-up with the Anzio beachhead, and Rome
fell on 4 June 1944. The 8th Indian Division continued to pursue
the Germans towards Perugia; they had advanced more than 200 miles
since crossing the Gari River.78
The 10th Indian Division arrived in the Adriatic sector of Italy in
March 1944.79 Maj. Gen. Denys Reid, commander of the 10th, was,
like many of his counterparts in the Indian Army of 1944, convinced of
the need for training directives based upon lessons learned in combat.
When the division arrived in Italy, their sector was quiet, enabling units
to undertake further training and patrolling activities, to learn different
styles of fighting, and to hone their skills. In May, after the bloody battles
of Cassino, the 4th Indian relieved the 10th Indian, allowing the 10th to
carry out higher-level exercises in mountain warfare. This continued
until the division was ordered to move on 10 June to relieve the 8th
Indian Division outside Perugia.80
On 30 June the 10th Indian Division began to push towards Florence.
The fighting in northern Italy was similar to earlier campaigns – count-
less river crossings; the taking of hills, mountains, and fortified villages;
and ferocious fighting all the way. The Germans had been busy building
a second major defensive line, called the Gothic Line, to the north of
Florence. This line, like the Gustav Line, ran right across the Italian
peninsula. By August, the 8th Indian Division had joined the 10th, and
the two formations reached Florence in mid August. They pressed on to
the Gothic Line positions in early September, when the 10th was moved

77
See Tiger Triumphs and May–Jun. 1944, WO 169/18797, NA.
78
See Tiger Triumphs.
79
Before their deployment, the formation had been carrying out training, using lessons
from the gruelling ﬁghting in North Africa and Italy. The commander of the 25th Indian
Brigade recalled that ‘in Cyprus our training was chieﬂy on elementary and individual
standard . . . We . . . returned to Lebanon to complete a mountain warfare course before
going out to Italy’ (97/7/1, Brig. E. A. Ardene MSS, IWM).
80
See PP MCR 06 Reel 7, Maj. Gen. Denys Reid MSS, IWM. The general theme after
each operation was a system of ‘General Tactical Lessons’, all listed after the narrative of
an operation. See also 10th Indian Division, 1944, WO 169/18813, NA: ‘Much
information regarding combat experience has been gained in the Italian theatre of
operations . . . all commanders must apply the lessons to training.’

back to the Adriatic sector to support the 4th Indian against German
defences in the Foglia valley.81
Overall, the Allied effort in Italy was suffering a manpower shortage
in late 1944. Men equivalent to nearly seven divisions had already
been withdrawn to fight in France,82 and in late September the
4th Indian Division followed suit, redeployed to Greece to intervene
in the civil war erupting there in the wake of the German
withdrawal.83
The remaining Indian divisions continued the advance and constant
attritional fighting of patrols and raids throughout the rest of 1944 and
into 1945 in the Adriatic sector of the front. Allied commanders recog-
nised the abilities of the Indian divisions; the 8th Indian Division served
as a fire brigade, and at one point moved in to replace the US 92nd
Division when it encountered problems holding the front. The secretary
of state, India, Leopold Amery, visited the Indian divisions and forma-
tions in Italy in late summer 1944. He commented. ‘I was immensely
proud [of] their fine spirit, discipline, and all I heard of their good
behaviour.’84
The final offensives in Italy began in April 1945. The 8th and 10th
divisions were involved with the crossing of the Senio River. The attack
began on 9 April, when the 8th crossed the river. As with all the previous
river crossings, the fighting was bitter as the Germans made the Allies
pay. When the Germans finally began to give ground, the 10th Indian
Division and 43rd Gurkha Lorried Brigade took part in the pursuit. The
10th was ordered to storm the Idice River, the last river crossing before
the Po. After yet more ferocious fighting, the Indian units managed to
hold on to their small bridgeheads, while other formations stormed
through. The Germans withdrew, the Po valley opened up, and the war
in Italy came to an end.85
The Indian Army’s increasing professionalism and successes in the
North and East African as well as the Italian campaigns were duly noted

81
The 8th Indian Division carried out lessons and training exercises during this respite.
‘Record in convenient form knowledge acquired . . . attention will be called to incidents
from which valuable lessons can be learnt.’ See ‘Training Instructions 2, 7, and 8’,
Aug.–Dec. 1944, WO 204/7570, and Jul.–Sep. 1944, WO 169/18798, NA.
82
See Tiger Triumphs for more details.
83
Without Gen. Tuker in command, the division carried on with lessons and training
directives under the command of Maj. Gen. Holworthy. See 91/40/1, Holworthy MSS,
IWM, and Jul.–Sep. 1944, WO 169/18777, NA. The division was complimented highly
by senior ofﬁcers for their efforts in Italy as well as North Africa. See letters of 9 and 29
Sep. and 5 Oct. 1944, 91/40/1, Holworthy MSS, IWM.
84
Amery to Wavell, 28 Sep. 1944, TOP, V, 24, p. 50.
85
See Tiger Triumphs and Mar.–Apr. 1945, 10th Indian Division, WO 169/22249, NA.

by many Allied commanders.86 While the various formations and units

served as part of a wider war effort, the Indian Army formations were at
times in the forefront of the campaigns. Throughout this period, the
units and formations included new recruits and new ICOs and emer-
gency Indian commissioned ofﬁcers (EICOs) who gained in profession-
alism through the seasoning of battle; many went on to play roles in the
post-war period as members of a professional and victorious force.

Far East campaigns (Malaya and Burma)

The Indian Army’s campaign in the Far East also contributed a chapter
of growth in its professionalisation. Along with their counterparts in the
Middle East and Africa, the formations in the Far East went through
significant growing pains. As with the army as a whole, these units
recruited from ethnic and religious groups from across India, who
consistently performed well and contributed to the army’s success and
growth. The formations in the Far East also benefited from the expansion
of the officer corps to include more Indians, who proved themselves in
combat and were in some cases leading battalions in battle by 1945.87
The Indian Army sent two Indian battalions to Hong Kong in 1940,
who would later be captured by the Japanese alongside their Canadian
and British allies. Over the course of 1941 government leaders decided to
reinforce Malaya and Burma in the face of the threat of Japanese aggres-
sion. The 9th and 11th Indian Divisions were sent to Malaya, but they
lacked equipment and training, and their units were newly raised and had
already been heavily ‘milked’. Thus hampered, they failed to tackle the
tactical problems of fighting in the jungles and rubber-tree plantations of
the area, and their ability to carry out traditional war fighting functions
was similarly limited.88 To compound this problem, any training and
planning that was undertaken by Indian troops at depots in India empha-
sised the type of fighting that was typical of North Africa – open spaces

86
See Tuker Papers, IWM, and 91/40/1, Holworthy MSS, IWM, letters of 9 and 29 Sep.
and 5 Oct. 1944. As noted previously, Indian units were used at times to back up other
Allied units, including British units. One example was noted by a British officer from the
Rifle Brigade. He stated, ‘a private told me [about] an unfortunate county battalion . . .
brigaded with Indian troops. The whole battalion had cut and run from a German tank
attack. The Indians recaptured the ground. The brigadier formed both battalions into a
square, the Indians on the outside with their weapons, the county regiment on the inside,
without their weapons. He then told them what he thought of them’ (quoted in Callahan,
Churchill’s Generals, p. 291, n. 23).
87
See pp. 76–99 for discussions on the recruitment policy and expansion of the
Indianisation process of the officer corps.
88
See Marston, Phoenix, pp. 41–7, as an example.

Figure 2.3 Indian troops in central Burma © Imperial War Museums

(Image No. SE 3271)

and large mechanised formations – and did not envision the complexities
of terrain that existed in both Malaya and Burma.89
Under the circumstances, it is perhaps not surprising that the 1941
campaign in Malaya ended in unequivocal defeat.90 Many of the reasons

89
See Marston, Phoenix, and Tim Moreman, The Jungle, the Japanese and the British
Commonwealth Armies at War, 1941–1945: Fighting Methods, Doctrine and Training for
Jungle Warfare (London: Frank Cass, 2005), for an exhaustive discussion of the
complexities of the campaigns in the Far East and the ability of the Indian Army to
reform to deal with the Imperial Japanese Army.
90
For more details on the Malayan campaign at the strategic, operational, and tactical
levels, see Moreman, Jungle; Brian Farrell, Defence and Fall of Singapore (Stroud:
Tempus Publishing, 2005); Garth Pratten, Australian Battalion Commanders in the

for the defeat were beyond the control of the troops themselves, and in
many cases they rested on decisions made by strategic planners in the
1920s and 1930s. Their performance was conclusively undermined by
their lack of training in general, and lack of training in jungle warfare
techniques in particular, as well as rapid expansion of the Indian Army
ranks, NCO, VCO, and officer corps. As Tim Moreman stated: ‘The
British garrison of Malaya, however, was still far from ready in December
1941 for war . . . [They] paid a heavy penalty in northern Malaya for the
limitations of their organisation and equipment and the failure of pre-war
training to fit them for the war in the jungle.’91
The III Indian Corps, comprising the 9th and 11th Indian Divisions
and supporting brigades, formed the main defensive line in northern
Malaya. On 8 December 1941, the Imperial Japanese Army landed
veteran troops along the coast, and struck hard at the Indian troops.
The Japanese, while not jungle experts, were able to use the terrain to
their advantage and constantly outflank III Corps. Within days, Indian
troops were in retreat, spending most of their time trying to forestall the
Japanese advance. To make matters worse, units in Malaya received very
few replacements, and those who did arrive were generally half-trained
officers and men who did not know how to fight in the terrain. The
campaign was over in seven weeks, when Singapore surrendered on 15
February 1942. The Japanese captured more than 100,000 Australian,
Indian, and British officers and men during the campaign.
The Japanese offensive into Burma (first Burma campaign) began on
11 December 1941.92 As with Malaya, the Indian forces in Burma were

Second World War (Melbourne: Cambridge University Press, 2009); Raymond Callahan,
The Worst Disaster: The Fall of Singapore (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1977);
Tomoyuki Ishizu and Raymond Callahan, ‘The Rising Sun Strikes’, pp. 47–62, and
Callahan, ‘Coping with Disaster’, pp. 63–78, both in Daniel Marston, ed., Paciﬁc War
Companion (Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 2005).
91
There were exceptions: the 2nd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders and the 12th Indian
Brigade carried out numerous exercises without much direction from Malaya
Command. See Moreman, Jungle, pp. 12–28 (quotations pp. 24, 28).
92
Many books cover the war in Burma from the strategic, operational, and tactical levels.
Useful titles include Raymond Callahan, Burma, 1942–1945 (London: Davis-Poynter,
1978); Louis Allen, Burma, the Longest War, 1941–1945 (London: Dent, 1984); Slim,
Defeat into Victory; Marston, Phoenix; Moreman, Jungle; Alan Jeffreys, The British Army in
the Far East, 1941–1945 (Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 2005); Bristow, Memories; Michael
Calvert, Prisoners of Hope (London: Leo Cooper, 1996); K. W. Cooper, The Little Men
(London: Hale, 1985); Raymond Cooper, ‘B’ Company, 9th Battalion the Border
Regiment: One Man’s War in Burma (London: Dobson, 1978); C. R. L. Coubrough,
Memories of a Perpetual Second Lieutenant (York: Wilton 65, 1999); Patrick Davis, A Child
at Arms (London: Buchan & Enright, 1985); Evans, Desert and Jungle; George
MacDonald Fraser, Quartered Safe Out Here (London: Harvill, 1992); Scott Gilmore,
A Connecticut Yankee in the 8th Gurkha Riﬂes (Washington, DC: Brassey’s, 1995); Tom

heavily ‘milked’, and any training was very limited and geared for the
open areas of North Africa.93 The collective training for the two
divisions, the 1st Burma and 17th Indian, had been minimal as well.
The first Burma campaign can be divided into two significant parts:
first, the fighting to the Sittang Bridge and loss of Rangoon; and, second,
the retreat to Assam. The Japanese were able to outflank their road-
bound and half-trained enemy during the first phase. Burma had been
reinforced first by the 13th and later by the 16th Indian Brigades.
Following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the 46th Indian Brigade
and the Divisional HQ of the 17th Indian Division arrived in Rangoon in
January 1942. The 17th Indian Division was below 40 per cent strength
after the heavy fighting to the Sittang River during January and February.
Following the loss of defences along the river, changes were made within
the campaign command structure. Lt Gen. William Slim, as Burma
Corps (Burcorps) commander, and Maj. Gen. Cowan arrived to take
over the 17th Indian Division. The last reinforcements arrived in
Rangoon as Japanese forces set out to destroy the British, Burmese,
and Indian units. Rangoon fell on 9 March, cutting off Burcorps from
the outside world. Burcorps was forced to retreat north as the Japanese
were reinforced and increased the pressure to entrap and completely
destroy the British and Indian formations, as well as the Nationalist
Chinese forces that had intervened in the eastern Shan states. As the
units were forced relentlessly north, Burcorps finally decided on 28 April
to formally abandon Burma and withdraw to Assam. The last troops
entered the Imphal Plain by late May.94
This was the longest retreat in British military history, more than 900
miles. The Japanese had failed to completely destroy Burcorps. Unlike
Malaya, many veterans from the Burma campaign escaped to Assam,

Grounds, Some Letters from Burma: Story of the 25th Dragoons at War (Tunbridge Wells,
UK: Parapress, 1994); John Hill, China Dragons: A Rifle Company at War (London:
Blandford, 1991); M. A. Lowry, An Infantry Company in Arakan and Kohima (Aldershot:
Gale & Polden, 1950); Tony Mains, The Retreat from Burma: An Intelligence Officer’s
Personal Story (London: Foulsham, 1973); Masters, Road Past Mandalay; John
Prendergast, Prender’s Progress: A Soldier in India (London: Cassell, 1979); Robin
Schlaefli, Emergency Sahib (London: Leach, 1992); John Smyth, Before the Dawn:
A Story of Two Historic Retreats (London: Cassell, 1957); John Randle, Battle Tales from
Burma (Stroud: Leo Cooper, 2004); and James Lunt, Hell of a Licking: The Retreat from
Burma, 1941–1942 (London: Collins, 1986).
93
One junior officer remembered his CO asking a staff officer about training; the reply was
‘training – you can’t do any training because it is bloody jungle’ (author’s interview with
Brig. John Randle, 7/10th Baluch Regiment, 10 April 2000); see also Randle’s own
account of the war, Battle Tales from Burma.
94
For a more detailed discussion of the first Burma campaign, see Allen, Burma; Callahan,
Burma 1942–1945; Slim, Defeat into Victory; Marston, Phoenix; and Moreman, Jungle.

taking with them valuable experiences and lessons.95 The Indian Army
was castigated for its performance in both the Malaya and the ﬁrst
Burma campaigns by Prime Minister Winston Churchill,96 but it must
be remembered that British units served alongside the Indian Army
troops and shared the defeat. None of the units and formations that
served in Malaya and Burma were prepared for the sort of warfare that
the Japanese unleashed upon them. It is a tribute to both Indian and
British Army units that they learned from their defeats, using them as a
tool to retrain and eventually inﬂict a far worse defeat upon the Japanese
Army.

Assessment and reform

The period following the defeats in Malaya and Burma was a trying one
for the Indian Army. During the summer of 1942, the Indian National
Congress Party initiated the Quit India movement.97 The movement
caused considerable disruption for the Indian Army, as more than sixty
battalions were called out to act as Aid to the Civil Power.98 Many
units continued to assess and teach the valuable lessons learned in the
fighting in both Malaya and Burma, but there was still no centralised
system to co-ordinate such efforts.99 Around this time, the 14th Indian
Division was ordered to begin an operation to clear the Japanese from
the Arakan region of Burma. The division had carried out some jungle
warfare training and had several veteran officers with jungle warfare
experience, but it was not sufficiently trained to undertake this mission.
And, because no centralised training system had been established, any
reinforcements that arrived had not received any jungle warfare

95
Some Malaya veterans were able to escape from the debacle as well, but many more men
and officers from the Burma campaign escaped to influence subsequent reforms. The
Fighting Cock: Being the History of the 23rd Indian Division, 1942–1947 (Aldershot: Gale &
Polden, 1951), by Lt Col A. J. R. Doulton, as well as works by Randle, Battle Tales from
Burma, Slim, Defeat into Victory, and Lunt, Hell of a Licking, offer very interesting insights
into the arrival of the retreating Burcorps, as the 23rd was shipped into Assam to receive
the survivors of Burcorps and prepare the defences of the area.
96
See Auchinleck to CIGS 9 Sep. 1941, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester;
Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 755–7; Churchill to Gen. Ismay, in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 771,
to see Churchill’s outdated views on the Indian Army and his lack of confidence in the
organisation. See also Michael Roberts’ comments in Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, pp.
192, 226.
97
See pp. 99–110 for more discussion.
98
There will be more discussion of the Indian Army in the role of the Aid to the Civil
Power, pp. 99–110.
99
For in-depth discussions of this period, see Marston, Phoenix, pp. 79–110, and
Moreman, Jungle, pp. 46–76.

training. The division advanced slowly, but by the end of 1942 it was
close to the end of the peninsula.100
The advance ended outside Donbaik and Rathedaung near the end of
January 1943, and from there the British launched numerous unsuccess-
ful attacks against the Japanese positions. A battle of attrition ensued,
and more and more British and Indian brigades were sent into battle.
The Japanese, meanwhile, built up their reserves in the area, preparatory
to launching a counter-attack in mid March. The British and Indian
units, caught off guard, were forced to retreat once again. By the end
of April, British and Indian units had been forced to withdraw all the way
to their original starting positions.101 Gen. Wavell, CinC India, reflecting
on the campaign, commented that ‘we still have a great deal to learn
about jungle fighting’.102
The defeat in the Arakan convinced GHQ India to confront the Indian
Army’s tactical limitations in the terrain of the Far East.103 The Infantry
Committee, formed in June 1943 to assess the situation, criticised the
practice of ‘milking’ regiments, which had left many units below strength
and deprived of their best officers and men. The Infantry Committee
called for a centralised doctrine and training system. They also addressed
a number of other issues which are outside the scope of this chapter.104
As a result of the Infantry Committee’s recommendations, the 14th
and 39th Indian Divisions were organised as jungle warfare training
divisions. Doctrine, in the form of the Jungle Book, was created and
disseminated to enable officers and men to understand the tactics of
jungle warfare. Initiatives and practices relevant to training, operational
lessons, and constant performance assessment began to permeate the
whole of the Indian Army from mid 1943. The army’s war in the Far East
was also reorganised. South East Asia Command105 was created in

100
S. Woodburn Kirby, War Against Japan, vols. I–V (London: HMSO, 1957–69), II,
pp. 260–2.
101
See the actions of the 2/1st Punjab to understand the environment and the limitations of
the army at the time: Marston, Phoenix, pp. 86–91.
102
See ibid., p. 88.
103
This book will not deal with the efforts of Maj. Gen. Orde Wingate and his Chindits.
They have been the subject of many debates since 1943. For a quick overview, see
Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, and for a very deep and excellent analysis that covers a
wider period of Wingate’s career, see Simon Anglim, Orde Wingate and the British Army,
1922–1944 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2010).
104
See Moreman, Jungle, Marston, Phoenix, and Jeffreys, British Army in the Far East, for
more information.
105
See Vice-Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten, Report to the Combined Chiefs of Staff by the
Supreme Allied Commander, South East Asia, 1943–1945 (London: HMSO, 1951), for
details on the history and the set-up of this command as well as a general narrative of the
campaign in Burma and Malaya.

August 1943 under the command of Admiral Lord Louis Mount-

batten;106 Fourteenth Army was the land component, led by Gen. Slim,
while Gen. Auchinleck107 headed up India Command. More formations
arrived to bolster the war effort in the east.
Slim considered Auchinleck’s appointment to India Command as one
of the most important contributions to the Indian Army’s progress
towards eventual victory in Burma. He opined that
Luckily, General Auchinleck was the man to do it. There was a considerable and
prompt injection of ginger into the Indian administrative machine, military and
civil. Even at the beginning of 1944 the results of Auchinleck’s drive began to
show . . . It was good for us when he took command of India . . . [W]ithout him
and what he and the Army in India did for us we could not have existed, let alone
conquered.108
The Indian Army’s training transformation was under way: by the end of
1943, the 17th and 23rd Indian Divisions, both of which had instituted
assessment and jungle warfare programmes, were holding the line in the
Imphal region of Assam.109 The 5th110 and 7th Indian Divisions were
sent to the Arakan region to start another offensive along the Mayu
Range.111 The Imperial Japanese Army, for their part, failed to notice

106
He would serve as the last viceroy of India and play a prominent role in the decisions
made in 1947.
107
Auchinleck became commander-in-chief of the Indian Army on 20 June 1943. See
Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, pp. 194–8, as well.
108
Slim, Defeat into Victory, pp. 175–6; see also Linlithgow’s letter of 1 Jun. 1943, TOP, III,
755, p. 1034: ‘My own judgment is that so far as India and the training and
improvement of morale of the Indian Army is concerned, Auchinleck is much the
best man we can get . . . [H]is excellent qualities are primarily the qualities of the
ﬁghting soldier, and a soldier’s general.’ Note also Linlithgow’s letter to Amery on 10
Jun. 1943, TOP, III, 769, p. 1053: ‘His [Auchinleck’s] value, as you and I both
recognize, is in terms of the effects of his employment on Indian Army morale, and
our being able to use his great experience with the Indian soldier in connection with
training, etc.’
109
See 17 Ind. Div., 1943, WO 172/1960, NA, as well as Marston, Phoenix.
110
The 5th was a veteran division, having served in East and North Africa; however, it had
undergone further training in jungle warfare. See Antony Brett-James, Ball of Fire: The
Fifth Indian Division in the Second World War (Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1951), for
more details.
111
See 5 Ind. Div., WO 172/1936, and 7th Ind. Div., 1943, WO 172/1943, NA. See also
Lt Gen. Frank Messervy Papers, MSS (7 Ind. Div.) and Maj Gen. Sir Douglas Gracey
Papers, MSS (20th Indian Division), for more evidence of training and lessons work
being done by the units. They are located at the Liddell Hart Centre for Military
Archives, King’s College London (henceforth Liddle Hart Centre, KCL). See also
Marston, Phoenix, and Moreman, Jungle. The Mayu Range was a line of mountains
that ran north to south, almost equally dividing the Mayu peninsula. They were jungle-
clad and thought impenetrable, as there were not many tracks.

that the forces arrayed against them in late 1943 and 1944 were not the
same as those they had faced in the past.

Rise of the phoenix

In 1944, the formations that fought in the Fourteenth Army had been
transformed. In early 1944, the Japanese decided to launch Operation
Ha-Go in the Arakan to offset British advances in the area and distract
attention from their major offensive in the Imphal region. By early
February, the Japanese 55th Division was on the move, intending to
destroy the 5th and 7th Indian Divisions, XV Corps. But these British
and Indian units did not break and run as their predecessors had; they
stood and fought their ground. This was a transformed army, ensconced
in their new box formations and patrol bases and refusing to budge.112
The ﬁghting was vicious.113 Some mistakes114 were made during the
opening phase of battle, but British and Indian units were able to correct
the situation, and within a few weeks they had neutralised the Japanese
threat. By early March, the Indian Army in the Arakan was on the
counteroffensive. It slowly started to destroy the Japanese Army, as
formations from the north closed in and provided support to the 5th
and 7th Indian Divisions. The Japanese units, caught in a vice, were
slowly and systematically destroyed.115
Around the same time, Gen. Slim began to receive reports that the
Japanese were on the move in the Assam region. IV Corps – the 17th,
20th, and 23rd Indian Divisions and various brigades – were stationed in
and around the Imphal region. The Japanese had amassed more than
three divisions, with orders to destroy IV Corps and seize the important
supply depots in the area. Operation U-Go began on 9 March, when the
17th Indian Division made contact along the Tiddim Road. The 17th
and 20th Indian Divisions were ordered to withdraw to the Imphal Plain.

112
See Allen, Burma, Kirby, War Against Japan, Slim, Defeat into Victory, Callahan,
Churchill’s Generals, and Geoffrey Evans, Slim as a Military Commander (London:
Batsford, 1969), for more detailed analyses of the 1944 campaign.
113
One account, of an action by the 1/11th Sikhs, is indicative: ‘C coy was hit hard in the
flank from unseen Japanese trenches . . . A naik [corporal] named Nand Singh crawled
forward and attacked three Japanese trenches in intense hand to hand fighting. He
single-handedly cleared all three trenches, allowing the rest of the platoon to come
forward.’ Nand Singh was awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions. See Marston,
Phoenix, p. 133.
114
There was some criticism surrounding the ‘pull-back’ to Admin Box and the
surrounding areas. However, after the initial issues, the units learned quickly and
settled into using effective tactics to hold their lines and destroy the Japanese forces.
115
Due to space considerations, a detailed discussion of the fighting in Burma is not
possible. Please consult the books listed in n. 92 for more detail.

Figure 2.4 Defeat into victory © Imperial War Museums (Image No.
IND 4901)

The 17th Indian found it more difﬁcult to extricate itself from the
Japanese advance, but eventually succeeded in withdrawing to the south
of the plain. The 20th Indian’s withdrawal was more orderly.116
At the end of March, British and Indian units returned to Imphal. The
road network to the north, via Kohima, had been cut off by the Japanese
advance. Elements of the Indian National Army (INA) were also
involved in the attacks upon the Indian formations and units in and
around Kohima and Imphal. Overall they did not perform well, with
large numbers deserting to the Indian Army upon contact.117

116
Some units became so adept at jungle warfare and patrolling that they were able to
cause considerable damage to the Japanese advance. See 14/13th FFRiﬂes ﬁghting in
Marston, Phoenix, pp. 142–5.
117
See Chandar Sundaram, ‘A Paper Tiger: The Indian National Army in Battle, 1944–
1945’, War and Society, 13, 1 (May 1995), pp. 35–54; Sundaram, ‘The Indian National
Army, 1942–1946: A Circumstantial Force’, in Marston and Sundaram, eds., Military
History of India and South Asia, pp. 123–40; and references to the INA in C. A. Bayly
and T. N. Harper, Forgotten Armies: The Fall of British Asia, 1941–1945 (Cambridge,
MA: Belknap, 2005). See also Chapter 3.

The fight for Imphal and Kohima became a battle of attrition as British
and Indian units held their ground against countless Japanese attacks.
Maj. R. S. Noronha, an ICO, in a situation characteristic of the
campaign, was ordered to hold an area to the ‘last man, last round’.
A company of 4/3rd Madras Regiment, under Noronha’s command,
was repeatedly attacked by Japanese along its positions at Sita for seven
days and nights. The company held its ground against every assault.118
Troops in such situations were reinforced with air-dropped and air-
landed supplies and troops.119 The British/Indian counteroffensive began
from the north, as elements of the 5th and 7th Indian (recently flown in
from the fighting in the Arakan), along with the 2nd British Division,
fought and destroyed the Japanese forces in and around Kohima, linking
up with the Imphal garrison on 22 June. The Japanese refused to accept
defeat until 9 July, when they ordered a withdrawal to Burma. By that
time, however, it was too late, and IV Corps, seizing the advantage,
carried on with a counteroffensive and started to destroy the Japanese
forces in the region and push south towards the Chindwin River.
The rest of the Fourteenth Army had not been idle either. As the 5th
Indian and 11th East African divisions continued the advance to destroy
the Japanese withdrawal during the monsoon season, other formations
sat down to assess lessons from the operations of 1944 and make
improvements in training and deployment accordingly. Assessment also
identified the fact that, when the army advanced into Burma, the terrain
would change, offering new challenges that would need to be examined
and discussed. The divisional commanders, as their counterparts in
North Africa and Italy had done, expected officers and men to write
down experiences, identify lessons, and assess mistakes. These assess-
ments were incorporated in divisional lessons and training exercises, as
well as in the official doctrine written by GHQ India and embodied in the
AITM and Military Training Pamphlets (MTPs), with lessons that were
shared among the various theatres of operation.120
Operations Capital and Extended Capital brought about the final
destruction of the Imperial Japanese Burma Area Army.121 Slim and

118
Noronha received the Military Cross. See Marston, Phoenix, p. 146.
119
Both the 5th and 7th Indian Divisions were flown into the fighting in Kohima and
Imphal to reinforce the garrisons.
120
See Marston, Phoenix, pp. 170–9, and Moreman, Jungle, pp. 146–60, as well as the
countless MTPs and AITMs that are available at the British Library, National Army
Museum (henceforth NAM), and Imperial War Museum.
121
The XV Corps, 25th, 26th Indian, 81st and 82nd West African Divisions, continued its
advance down the Arakan region of Burma and were successful in tying down Japanese
forces in the area. Ramree Island was seized by February 1945. Airfields were seized on
the island that would prove pivotal to support the campaign in central Burma.

his commanders began the advance into Burma in November 1944. The
offensive began in early December, when the 19th and 20th Indian
Divisions crossed the Chindwin River and advanced on Japanese forces
stationed on the other side, hoping to trap the latter on the Shwebo Plain
and seek the decisive battle. However, the Japanese had placed only rear-
guard troops on the Shwebo Plain; most of their forces had withdrawn to
the east and south, back across to the far side of the Irrawaddy River.
Their defensive line followed the river from north of Mandalay south
towards Nyaungo.
Realising that his original plan, Operation Capital, was not going to
work, Slim altered it accordingly. Under the revised plan, Operation
Extended Capital, IV Corps was earmarked to carry out a secret route
march that would end up opposite the thinly defended river area near
Nyaungo. There they would cross and strike towards the important
Japanese supply network based at Meiktila. Meanwhile, XXXIII Corps
was ordered to cross the Shwebo Plain and draw the Japanese into a
decisive battle in and around Mandalay. Gen. Slim theorised that ‘If we
took Meiktila while Kimura [Kimura Heitaro, Japanese commander] was
deeply engaged along the Irrawaddy about Mandalay, he would be
compelled to detach large forces to clear his vital communications. This
would give me not only the major battle I desired, but the chance to
repeat the hammer and anvil tactics [used previously at Imphal and
Kohima] . . . [with] XXXIII Corps the hammer from the north against
the anvil of IV Corps at Meiktila and the Japanese between.’122
The apparently newly reformed and professional army had impressed
even members of the British War Cabinet, who had previously had a
rather low opinion of it. Members of the War Cabinet who met with
elements of the Fourteenth Army commented favourably and, as they
noted in March 1944, ‘the morale of the Indian troops in Burma was
remarkably high, and impressed visitors from the UK who had seen
them. In quality, the Indian Army were more than a match for the
Japanese.’123
Slim’s plan worked, but ﬁghting in the bridgeheads was ferocious. The
1/11th Sikhs, as part of the 7th Indian Division’s bridgehead, encountered
Japanese and INA forces determined to destroy their positions before the
division could launch a strike towards Meiktila. The Japanese launched
repeated attacks, and the brutal conditions are indicated by the story of
1/11th Sikhs’ Jemadar Parkash Singh, who rallied his men repeatedly
and carried ammunition between posts. He was wounded three times

122
Slim, Defeat into Victory, p. 327.
123
War Cabinet, 26 Mar. 1945, TOP, V, 339, p. 734.

before a grenade killed him, and died in the arms of his company com-
mander. He was later awarded the Victoria Cross.124 As the 7th Indian
Division held the bridgehead, the 17th Indian Division crossed and
pushed out, in a charge for Meiktila. The best efforts of the Japanese and
the INA to destroy the advance were to no avail. Meiktila was in British
hands by early March 1945, and the Japanese were regrouping to defend
against the British and Indian bridgeheads in and around Mandalay.
Fierce fighting ensued in and around Mandalay and Meiktila and
along the Irrawaddy River. One machine gun company noted more than
250 dead Japanese outside their perimeter after three nights of fight-
ing.125 The Japanese began to withdraw from the Irrawaddy River,
Mandalay, and Meiktila on 24 March, unable to hold their positions
against the aggressive British and Indian forces. A Japanese commander
commented that ‘since 2[8]th of February allied tanks [thrust] deep into
our positions every day . . . [I]n this fighting the co-operation among
allied infantry, artillery and tanks was made admirably.’126
With the area firmly under British and Indian control, the race to
Rangoon began. The Indian Army’s professionalism was demonstrated
as its units quickly adapted to new conditions; some units executed open-
style and mechanised warfare, while others reverted to jungle tactics, as
the Japanese were systematically destroyed along the banks of the south-
ern reaches of the Irrawaddy and the road to Rangoon. The pre-war
notion that British units were needed to ‘prop up’ the Indian units was
effectively debunked;127 British units were underperforming (many
soldiers and officers wishing to be demobbed), and at the end of the
campaign the British contribution represented only 13 per cent of the
effort. The army that marched to Rangoon was in all important respects
the Indian Army.128 Rangoon fell to an amphibious and airborne assault
on 3 May, ending the war in Burma for all intents and purposes.

124
See Marston, Phoenix, p. 211; and author’s interview with Maj. G. C. Coppen, 1 Nov.
1999.
125
9/13th FFRifles, interviews with Majs. D. Lamond, 27 Oct. 1999, and D. Wright, 20
Dec. 1999.
126
Lt Gen. Tadashi Hanaya, ‘Story of the Japanese 33rd Division’, Gen. Evans Papers,
IWM.
127
By October 1944, the British units in Burma were short 10,000 men and Slim had to fill
the gap with more Indian Army units: Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, p. 227. See also
letter from Auchinleck to Wavell, 22 Aug. 1945, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester, stating: ‘Recently in Burma higher commanders have definitely preferred
to use Indian units rather than British and have actually asked that British units should
be replaced by Indian.’
128
See Raymond Callahan, ‘The Indian Army, Total War, and the Dog That Didn’t Bark
in the Night’, in Jane Hathaway, ed., Rebellion Repression Reinvention: Mutiny in
Comparative Perspective (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2002), p. 126.

The Burma campaign, which had begun as the longest retreat in

British military history, ended as the Imperial Japanese Army’s most
conclusive defeat, with the Indian Army playing the central role. It was
a spectacular reversal of the events of 1942. The Indian Army’s successes
in Africa, the Middle East, Italy, and particularly the Far East could not
have occurred without fundamental reforms, notably expanding recruit-
ment of ethnic groups and classes far beyond traditional limitations and
restructuring the officer corps to admit more ICOs, and allow Indians to
command and sit on courts martial of white soldiers and officers. These
reforms went hand in hand with the tactical and operational level reforms
that occurred on the battlefields of the Second World War.
The main engine for such radical changes was ultimately senior Indian
Army leadership, led by officers such as Auchinleck, Slim, and Savory.
As Raymond Callahan noted:
The rebuilding of the Indian Army and Slim’s Arakan and Imphal victories were
demonstrations of the aggressive determination and imaginative leadership
Churchill had always called for and so frequently lamented. But those qualities
were being displayed by an army he had always undervalued and in a campaign he
had never wanted to fight . . . It is doubtful if either man [Churchill and chief of
the Imperial General Staff [CIGS] Alanbrooke] ever fully realized that the
greatest British feat of operational manoeuvre, not only for the war but of the
twentieth century, had not been the work of Monty [Eighth and later Second
Army] or Alex [Eighth Army in Italy] but of Slim . . . [The Indian Army] had
remade itself by 1944 and 1945, perhaps in some ways aided by the quasi
autonomy that allowed Auchinleck, Savory, Slim, and many others to get on
with the business of forging a battleworthy weapon, with few interventions from
above . . . [T]he war in Burma was the war the Indian Army had, and it got on
with preparing to win it, accepting whatever new structures or doctrines were
necessary. It seems safe to predict that Slim’s campaigns will be deemed
examples of the military art far longer than any of Monty’s victories.129

Recruitment and Indianisation of the army during

the Second World War
The Second World War precipitated a period of unprecedented expan-
sion for the Indian Army. Between 1939 and 1945, the army expanded
from 200,000 to more than 2.5 million men and ofﬁcers, even though
conscription was never imposed. The Indian Army began the war as the

129
Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, pp. 211 and 239; see also Callahan, ‘Were the Sepoy
Generals Any Good? A Re-Appraisal of the British–Indian Army’s High Command in
the Second World War’, in Kaushik Roy, ed., War and Society in Colonial India (New
Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2006), pp. 305–29.

‘Imperial Reserve’ for the British government, and by its end had lost
24,000 killed, 64,000 wounded, 60,000 captured,130 and 11,000 missing
on active service.131
Throughout the Second World War the Indian Army also faced fun-
damental questions about its existence, size, and composition.132 The
Indianisation of the officer corps reached new heights during this period,
signalling the end of the traditional all-British officer corps. Recruitment
also expanded to include South Asian ethnic groups that had long been
dismissed as being ‘non-martial’.133 The army’s rapid expansion in
response to the needs of the war raised additional questions concerning
the quality of troops and officers.

Recruitment of the army during the Second World War

The rapid expansion of the Indian Army placed a signiﬁcant strain on the
areas from which recruits were traditionally drawn, especially in the
Punjab. One key issue that arose early in the war was the recruitment
of Jat Sikhs.134 The political and ethnic tensions of the 1920s and 1930s
were exacerbated in 1940 by discussions of a future Pakistan. There were
two small mutinies during this period that included Jat Sikhs; their
involvement led them to be labelled as ‘troublesome’ and created a
reluctance to recruit them. By 1942, the recruitment numbers of Jat
Sikhs had dropped to all-time lows. The British perpetuated this trend,
recruiting non-Jat Sikhs as well as more Muslims from the Punjab. As Jat
Sikh numbers dropped,135 the numbers of Muslims (or PMs) quadru-
pled. By 1943, with the Punjab providing 37% of all soldiers recruited
into the army, the Jat Sikhs represented 7% of the total, Hindu Jats 5%,
and PMs and Pathans accounted for more than 25%.136

130
Most of these men were captured early in the war in the Malayan and first Burma
campaigns of 1941–2.
131
S. L. Menezes, Fidelity and Honour: The Indian Army from the Seventeenth to the Twenty-
First Century (New Delhi: Viking, 1993), p. 370.
132
Questions were raised in certain quarters about whether the Indian Army needed to be
expanded. Churchill in particular denigrated the efforts of the Indian Army throughout
the war, even after it had undertaken significant reforms, conclusively defeated the
Imperial Japanese Army, and played an important supporting role in the successful East
African, North African, and Italian campaigns. See Callahan’s work in Churchill’s
Generals for a detailed discussion of the tensions between Churchill and his Indian
Army commanders, chiefly Gens. Auchinleck and Slim.
133
See Chapter 1 for background to the issues surrounding martial races and the
Indianisation of the officer corps before 1939.
134
See Yong, Garrison State, pp. 286–90, for a detailed description of the issues.
135
Although they still represented a large proportion of the Jat Sikh male community, as
noted by the final tally of 88 per cent. See L/MIL/17/5/2153, OIOC, BL.
136
Yong, Garrison State, pp. 290–1.

Rapid expansion placed noticeable strain upon the resources of the

traditional recruitment areas, and GHQ India realised that recruitment
must be broadened to other areas and groups. This decision was under-
taken tentatively at first, by taking Madrassis and others into the
expanding service corps of the army. Following Auchinleck’s appoint-
ment as commander-in-chief, recruitment reform became more decisive.
Auchinleck stated that: ‘as regards to recruitment of the rank and file
I have no doubt at all that apart from political considerations we must
broaden our basis and this was already in hand before I arrived. I propose
to continue and hasten the process. There is plenty of good untouched
material which we can and should use.’137
Nor did Auchinleck intend to confine recruitment from non-martial
races to the service corps. He specifically suggested that the old 3rd
Madras Regiment should be re-raised, and that new infantry units should
be raised to represent the other provinces.138 He asserted that these units
were not to be for show only, but would be used alongside other units in
fighting the war. He recognised the political dimensions of this move,
stating that ‘it will greatly help in meeting the political demand for the
wider representation in the army’.139 Amery, as secretary of state for
India, recognised and accepted these proposals, and was disappointed
when Auchinleck was chosen as commander-in-chief of the Middle East
in June 1941, taking him away from the opportunity to implement them
personally.140
The recruitment of non-martial races had been stepped up between
1940 and 1942, but there was still a faction in GHQ India which doubted
their potential as fighting troops. Many of the new recruits were sent to
non-infantry or cavalry services within the army, as well as to the Indian
Army Service Corps, signals, engineers, and artillery.141 A report pub-
lished in February 1942 documents 38,000 recruits from non-martial

137
Auchinleck to Amery, 17 Mar. 1941, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
138
When he was commander-in-chief, Middle East, the Assam, Bihar, Chamar, and Aﬁdi
Regiments were raised.
139
Auchinleck to Amery, 17 Mar. 1941, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
140
Amery stated that he was sad to lose Auchinleck because of his great work for the Indian
war effort and his point of view on certain issues relevant to the Army. See Amery to
Auchinleck, 25 Jun. 1941, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
141
There were other infantry units besides the Sikh Light Infantry and the Madras
Regiment raised from the new classes: four battalions of the Bihar Regiment, of
which the 1st Battalion saw active service in Burma; three battalions of the Assam
Regiment, of which the 1st Battalion saw service in Burma; ﬁve battalions of the Mahar
Regiment although none saw active service; four battalions of the Ajmer Regiment; and
two battalions of the Chamar Regiment, of which one served in Burma. See Gaylor,
Sons of John Company, pp. 207–13. None of these units saw active service until 1944 and
1945; prior to this they were all held in reserve.

races enlisted, of whom 33,000 were stationed in India. Meanwhile,

‘martial races’ such as Jat Sikhs and Punjabi Musalmans reported
numbers at 50% stationed in India and 50% overseas.142 In response
to an Indian politician’s questions during debates in the Council of State,
GHQ India wrote a note stating that ‘other classes are not yet battle tried
so it will be a while before their martial qualities are assessed’.143
A report by the adjutant general’s office in late 1942 argued for
recruitment from non-martial races by making the claim that the
performance of PMs, Dogras, and Jat Sikhs in the field was declining.
The report stated that ‘the general quality of the recruit [pre-war classes]
is tending to decline both physically and in terms of intelligence and this
is when guts and brains are needed’.144 The report by the adjutant
general’s office also documented how many of the units, including both
the Madras and Sikh Light Infantry, were lacking in junior leaders,
and recommended that this be remedied quickly, noting, however, that
‘foreign’ VCOs or British NCOs were not the answer.145 On the other
hand, at least one witness considered that the Madras Regiment’s turn-
out and abilities improved when it received British Guardsmen as drill
instructors. Maj. T. A. J. Barton, in an interview, commented that in his
opinion the Guardsmen had filled a vacuum created by the pre-war
neglect of these units.146
In a War Staff communiqué to London, GHQ India formally
announced that ‘the former distinction of martial and non martial race
has been removed’.147 By mid 1943 there were still those within the
Indian Army who were willing to concede that the recruitment of non-
martial races was necessary, but continued to assert that it should not be
done too quickly. Gen. G. N. Molesworth commented, in support of this
argument, that ‘the Northwest groups are virile and that the rest of India
had lost its appetite for war’.148
The arrival of Auchinleck as commander-in-chief, India, in late June
1943 brought a strong supporter of expanding recruitment and training
of non-martial race troops for battle. His arrival coincided with the
aftermath of the first Arakan defeat, when the British government was
calling for the Indian Army to be shrunk. Churchill stated clearly what he
felt the problems were, but he failed to recognise the significance of the

142 143
1 Feb. 1942, L/WS/1/456, OIOC, BL. 25 Sep. 1942, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
144 145
3 Nov. 1942, L/WS/1/968, OIOC, BL. Ibid.
146
Author’s interview with Maj. T. A. J. Barton, Madras Regimental Centre and 4/3rd
Madras, 5 Jul. 2000.
147
17 Feb. 1943, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
148
21 Jul. 1943, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL. Molesworth was the secretary, Military
Department, India Ofﬁce, London.

tactical errors that were committed in battle and that were subsequently
rectified. He was also apparently unaware that non-martial race units had
not seen active service in the campaigns.149 They had all been stationed
in India or near the front on lines of communication duties. Churchill
stated to Leo Amery, ‘It [the Indian Army in 1943] bears no relation to
the splendid old time Indian units.’150 Issues of insubordination arose
with troops from the martial races in the field and not the non-martial
races.151 During the summer of 1943, the British government called
upon the Indian Army to reduce the numbers of units and formations.
Auchinleck viewed this as a signal that the British government had lost
confidence in the Indian Army and that this loss was partly due to the
expanded recruitment of non-martial races. In a letter of response to the
viceroy, Field Marshal Wavell, Auchinleck described in some detail his
thoughts and feelings on the topic of non-martial races and the govern-
ment’s attitude. He bluntly stated: ‘the idea underlying the demand for
reduction seems to be based upon the idea that the Indian Army is now
composed to a large extent of men who because they belong to classes
previously untried as soldiers are unreliable and unsuitable’.152
Auchinleck went on to comment that the Madrassis comprised about
half of the new recruits and noted that ‘from all accounts the Madrassis
are doing very well’. He further stressed that ‘the recruitment of the old
classes has been pushed to such lengths that the recruits now coming
forward are often of poor quality and it is time to say that it is preferable
to secure good specimens of new classes which can be maintained’.
A further example of his commitment to the new classes is highlighted
at the end of the letter when he stated, in no uncertain terms, ‘there is
little doubt that [the] new classes must continue to have their place in the
Indian Army of the future’.153
A speech given in the Indian Assembly in November 1943 highlighted
GHQ India’s attempts to deal with the issues of recruitment. The officer
speaking stated that the Indian Army was open to all of the classes of
India. The only parameters for officers and other ranks were sufficient
education and physical attributes. The officer ended his speech by

149
Even Amery stated, in a letter to Linlithgow on 27 August 1942: ‘Congress has nothing
in common with the ﬁghting races of India of whom well over a million have
volunteered for the Army during the present war’ (TOP, II, 637, p. 830).
150
Quoted in Callahan, Churchill’s Generals, p. 202.
151
There were a few examples of restlessness among Sikh troops for religious issues or fear
of the formation of the state of Pakistan and the division of the Punjab: L/WS/1/707,
OIOC, BL.
152
Auchinleck to Wavell, ‘Size and Composition of the India Army’, 2 Aug. 1943,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
153
Ibid.

stating: ‘Sir I assure the house that there is no discrimination at present

against scheduled classes and there will be none.’154
Auchinleck’s commitment resulted in two significant achievements.
First, he was able to forestall the vast cuts proposed to the numbers of the
Indian Army.155 Some units were disbanded, but this was because units
from the North-West Frontier and PAIFORCE were brought back to
serve in the Burma campaign. Second, he had some of the non-martial
race infantry units committed to battle to gain experience and, if
possible, to make a name for themselves and quiet critics.156
By the end of the war, the recruitment totals from all classes clearly
indicate a preference for the pre-war classes, but this is partly attributable
to the recruitment bias which was still extant during the early part
of the war. The numbers of the new class recruits157 rose steadily towards
the end of the war; the numbers listed represent the percentages of the
total numbers of each male population who were eligible for military
service: Jat Sikhs 88%;158 Kumaonis 50%; Pathans 50%; Jats (Hindus)
46%; Sikhs (others, including Mazbhis and Ramdasias) 40%; Garhwalis
38%; Dogras 32%; PMs 30%; Ranghars 27%; Gujars 24%; Brahmins
23%; Rajputs 22%; Rajputana Musalmans 18%; Mahrattas 16%; Coorgs
15%; Madrassis 14%; Baluchis 10%; Mahars 8%; Ahirs 7%; Assamese
3%; and Chamars 3%.159 The Punjab was still heavily represented, and
this fact would have a major impact in the post-war period as demobilised
soldiers returned home.
The Indian Army’s recruitment history during the Second World War
highlights the reforms and expansions that its recruitment policies under-
went. 5th Probyn’s Horse saw a drop in the numbers of available Dogra
Rajputs early in the war; as a result, the regiment was ordered to accept
Dogra Hindus for the Dogra Squadron. Officers of the 5th Probyn’s
stated that the Dogra Hindus proved themselves excellent soldiers over
the course of the war.160 The battalions of the 13th Frontier Force Rifles

154
No. 1175/1/LB, Nov. 1943, L/WS/1/136, OIOC, BL.
155
This was to prove crucially important later, when British Army units in the Burma
campaign in 1945 were being forced to withdraw due to lack of reinforcements, and
their places being ﬁlled by Indian units.
156
L/WS/1/707, OIOC, BL.
157
‘New class’ implies units raised during the Second World War. Many of the peoples had
served in either the East India Company Army or the Indian Army but had fallen out of
favour at different periods.
158
Most of this represented recruitment from the early part of the war.
159
L/MIL/17/5/2153, OIOC, BL. See also Cohen, ‘The Untouchable Soldier’, for more
details.
160
Author’s interview with Maj. H. E. I. C. Stewart, 11 Jul. 2000, and Probyn’s Newsletter
1945, p. 2.

(FFRiﬂes), who also saw a drop in their traditional pool of recruits,

introduced two additional classes, one of which was new. The problems
of securing enough Jat Sikhs for the Sikh Company led to the recruitment
of Jat Hindus, including VCOs.161 Captain J. R. Wallis, 14/13th
FFRifles, noted in an interview that he was sent on a recruiting drive in
1943, which included seeking out non-Jat Sikhs, Mazbhis and Ramdasias
included.162 The FFRifles also recruited Ahirs to bring their battalions
up to strength.163 Capt. Hank Howlett, a training officer at the regimen-
tal centre, Abbottabad, noted that the new classes of men ‘smoothly
slotted into the training company ranks’.164
The FFRifles were not alone in broadening their base of recruitment.
Low numbers drove the 1st Punjab Regiment to open up its recruitment
to include Jat Hindus for the Sikh companies. The Baluch Regiment
began accepting Brahmins from non-Dogra areas to bring the Dogra
companies up to strength. The FFR accepted Kumaonis into its battal-
ions to fill up the spaces created by the drop in Dogras and Jat Sikhs.165
Officers from various units noted that recruits from the new classes
performed as well as the pre-war classes already serving in the battal-
ions.166 The battlefield performances of the Indian Army in North and
East Africa, Italy, Iraq, and Burma, previously described, demonstrate
the ability of battalions and classes to mesh and perform as cohesive
units.
The new classes also provided significant numbers of men and officers
for the supporting combat and non-combat services. Failure to expand
recruitment would have resulted in a shortage of supplies for the forward
units, brought on by a shortage of troops in the Indian Army Services
Corps. The supporting services provided by the engineers and artillery
paid huge dividends for the army during operations in North and East
Africa, Italy, and Burma.

Indianisation
With the expansion of the Indian Army in April/May 1940, Indianisation
of the ofﬁcer corps took on a new importance, since the army would need

161
Author’s interview with Maj. A. Delafield, 2/13th FFRifles, 23 Jan. 2001.
162
Author’s interview with Capt. J. R. Wallis, 2 Feb. 2000.
163
Army Reorganisation Committee (henceforth Willcox Report), Part II, L/WS/1/1030,
OIOC, BL.
164
Author’s interview with Capt. Hank Howlett, 31 May 2001.
165
Willcox Report, Part II, L/WS/1/1030, OIOC, BL.
166
Author’s interviews with officers of the 1st Punjab, Baluch, FFR, FFRifles, and
Probyn’s.

more ofﬁcers to make up the war establishment.167 By 1945, there were

7,546 Indian officers in the combat arms of the Indian Army.
Counting the non-combat arms, the number was closer to 13,000
officers. The total, British and Indian, for the Indian Army, including
all arms and services, was close to 40,000 officers. Indian officers in
the combat arms represented 25% of the number, compared with 10%
in 1939.168
In Nationalisation of the Indian Army, Lt Col Gautum Sharma draws
several conclusions at the end of his chapter on Indianisation during the
war, most of which are oversimplifications of what actually occurred
during the period. He claims that ‘discrimination was practised on a
liberal scale during the war against the Emergency Indian Commissioned
Officers (EICOs) by the British Emergency Commissioned Officers
(ECOs)’. He asserts that there were instances ‘when the son of a British
tailor or shoe-maker was considered superior and better for the grant of a
King’s commission than an Indian even of the martial classes’.169 While
there were indisputably instances of discrimination, my research indi-
cates that by 1945 they were practised by only a small minority of British
officers. Evidence compiled in interviewing officers for Phoenix from the
Ashes and this book presents a somewhat different picture from that given
by Sharma.170
Many Indian officers felt that there were three important changes
which brought about the transformation of opinion.171 First, the vast
majority of ECOs came from the UK, and so had no preconceived
notions about what relations between Indian officers and Britons should
be. Moreover, most knew nothing of the pre-war Indianised system,
so did not consider the idea of serving with or under the command
of Indians as foreign or unacceptable. Second, by 1943 Indians and
EICOs had proven themselves in battle alongside their British counter-
parts, and this was widely acknowledged and commended. Third, during

167
In cavalry units, the establishment was doubled. The British and Indian officers (ECOs
and EICOs) would command troops. In infantry battalions the numbers also doubled;
extra officers were not platoon leaders but extra company officers. VCOs remained in
all units.
168
Prasad, Official History: Expansion, p. 182, and Lt Col Gautum Sharma, Nationalisation
of the Indian Army (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1996), p. 194.
169
Sharma, Nationalisation of the Indian Army, p. 196.
170
The perspective that these officers present is supported by the fact that UK officers have
continued to maintain contact with their Indian counterparts since 1945. British and
Indian/Pakistani regimental associations do likewise. It was this close relationship that
enabled me to meet with so many Indian officers and visit regiments in both India and
Pakistan; in most cases, it was British officers and associations who provided
introductions to their colleagues.
171
Author’s interviews and correspondence with retired Indian officers, 1999–2009.

Auchinleck’s second tenure as commander-in-chief, many ECOs and

regular ofﬁcers looked to him as a leader and shared his views.172 Many
Indian ofﬁcers, from both the pre-war and war years, expressed the
opinion that it was the CO who set the tone, either negative or positive,
within the regiment or battalion. It appears that a majority of COs sought
to emulate Auchinleck, and as a result a majority of units accepted
Indianisation.173

The process of change

In 1939 there were 577 Indian officers serving in the Indian Army.174
As early as 22 September of that year, Army Headquarters in India
contacted London about the possible need to expand the Indian officer
corps, noting that many Indians had asked to join up as officers but
that under current conditions they were barred from doing so. The
Army Headquarters had been contemplating Emergency Commissions
for Indians,175 but it is unclear who in the headquarters actually began
the process of expanding the Indian officer corps. Auchinleck was still
the deputy chief of the General Staff when war broke out. His relation-
ship with the then commander-in-chief, Gen. Sir Robert Cassels, was
very good. Cassels may have shared Auchinleck’s views176 or eventually
been swayed by him when the need presented itself with the outbreak
of war. However, there are no records in the British Library or the
University of Manchester that specifically state that he was the main
instrument of the change. Also, Auchinleck was posted to the UK and
European fronts in early 1940 for several months when some of the
major changes began to occur. However, the secretary of state for
India, Leo Amery, specifically stated in his diary entry of 19 June
1940, ‘He [Auchinleck] is keen on general Indianisation in the Indian

172
See comments by C. A. Bayly and Harper in Forgotten Armies, p. 74.
173
I have interviewed more than 200 officers since 1999 and this was the majority
sentiment that came across.
174
There were 274 Hindus, 138 Muslims, 75 Sikhs, and 70 others: Sharma, Nationalisation
of the Indian Army, p. 174.
175
A series of letters in late 1939 and early 1940: Emergency Commissions for Indians,
L/MIL/7/19157, OIOC, BL.
176
Auchinleck took a keen interest during the pre-war years in the careers of some of the
ICOs. He persuaded his Indian friends to have their sons join up as officers, notably in
two instances. Maj. Gen. D. K. Palit’s father served with Auchinleck as the Indian
Medical Officer of the 1/1st Punjab. Auchinleck was present at the selection board for
D. K. Palit in the 1930s. He sat in the back of the room (author’s interview with Maj.
Gen. Palit, 4 Nov. 2000). During the first years of the war he influenced his old munshi
(language teacher) to have his son Ibrahim Quereshi join as an ECIO in the 1st Punjab
Regiment (author’s interview with Brig. Quereshi, 10 Oct. 2000).

Army’,177 which gives credence to the theory that he was an instrument

for change in Army Headquarters. Others in Headquarters took it upon
themselves to help change the system, but Auchinleck spent most of
the war attempting to destroy any barriers left in the system. The war
and the need for expansion of the officer corps offered a chance to end
the old system of Indianisation, and the Indian Army took the lead.
When Auchinleck was commander-in-chief in 1941, and later in 1943,
he made it clear that he intended to overcome any obstacles to placing
Indian officers on par with their British counterparts.
A press communiqué dated 17 June 1940, sent from the Government
of India Defence Department at Simla to the secretary of state for India,
signalled the end to the pre-war Indianisation process. Due to expansion,
the Defence Department stated that all units of the Indian Army would
be opened to ICOs.178 This communiqué meant that from then on all
emergency Indian commissioned officers could be posted anywhere
in the army, not just to designated pre-war Indianised battalions and
regiments. The old VCO rank structure was brought back to the Indian-
ised units affected by ‘platoonisation’ in the 1930s.179 The Defence
Department then tried to tackle the differences in pay for ICOs who
were posted to non-Indianised units, noting that ICOs needed more
money, since non-Indianised units generally had higher mess bills.180
Government of India staff also expressed concern about two potential
problems: first, the financial side of the proposal, specifically having
ICOs paid at the same rate as KCIOs. Second, they were worried that
the reinstatement of the VCO rank to the Indianised units would under-
mine the earlier justification for installing ICOs, which was that they were
needed to command platoons. Moreover, they were surprised that
the whole system had been abandoned without official notification to
the secretary of state for India.181 Lt Gen. Auchinleck did, however, send
a letter182 to the secretary of state for India, Leopold Amery, in October
1940, which was very critical of the pre-war system of Indianisation. He
specifically stated that ‘we have been playing a losing hand from the start
in this matter of Indianisation . . . and held the following views for many

177
John Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay: The Leo Amery Diaries, 1929–1945 (London:
Hutchinson, 1988), p. 626. He went on to say, ‘[Auchinleck,] who struck me as a
real good ﬁghting soldier, all for getting rid of unnecessary trimmings and creating an
offensive spirit.’
178
The ofﬁcial order was published as File No. B/59865/AG-1 (6) of 3 August 1940.
179
L/MIL/7/19156, OIOC, BL.
180
Defence Dept to Sec. of State, India, Sep. 1940, L/MIL/7/19156, OIOC, BL.
181
Mr Turnbull to A. W. Thompson, 20 Sep. 1940, L/MIL/7/19156, OIOC, BL.
182
He was responding to Amery’s questions regarding Indianisation.

years’. He also gave it as his opinion that platoonisation was wrong, and
that VCOs should command platoons within the Indianised battalions.
He even raised the issue of pay discrepancies, stating that ‘pay of all
officers British and Indian should be the same and the present invidious
distinctions should be removed’. He commented that British regulars
and ECOs could be part of the expanding Indian Army ‘provided they
refuse to acquire the racial prejudices which have soured the whole
course of Indianisation’. Finally, he stated that ‘the only logical corollary
is equal treatment, regardless of colour’.183 This last statement made
clear his intention that all new British emergency commissioned officers
were to be posted throughout the army, with the possibility that they
would be commanded by ICOs. Auchinleck was aware that his opinions
were not widely shared; he made clear that his views were personal and
that at the time ‘they [were] far from being accepted widely in India . . .
[and] some may look on them as dangerous and unworkable’.184 As units
expanded, many ICOs were posted to new units where British officers
might serve under them.185
There were teething problems during the expansion of the Indian
officer corps,186 but Commander-in-Chief Gen. Cassels and the Indian
Army opened the door in the summer of 1940. It is interesting to note
that Amery may have taken an interest in Auchinleck’s opinions.
A month after his communications with Amery, Auchinleck was
appointed commander-in-chief, India,187 for the first of two tenures,
partly due to the fact that Amery believed that Auchinleck could mobilise
the war effort in India.188
While Auchinleck was commander-in-chief in 1941, the order ending
the old Indianised system was formally listed.189 The last group of
regular ICOs graduated in June 1941, and the Indian Military Academy,
Dehra Dun, was re-opened as an ‘emergency’ Officer Training School
(OTS), initially for Indian cadets. Auchinleck, as CinC, tried to deal with

183 184
Auchinleck to Amery, 12 Oct. 1940, L/MIL/7/19156, OIOC, BL. Ibid.
185
In the 4/12th FFR, Captain S. H. J. F. Manekshaw was the commander of A Company
with various British ECOs junior to him. He went on to win the Military Cross during the
campaign: 29 Jan. 1942, War Diary, WO 172/932, NA. The 7/10th Baluch provides a
further two examples: Capt. Siri Kanth Korla, commander of C Company, was awarded
the DSO during the campaign. The second-in-command of the 7/10th Baluch was an
Anglo-Indian named Maj. Dunn: Jan. 1942, War Diary, WO 172/928, NA.
186
The issues of the power of punishment of British personnel would not be resolved until
early 1943.
187
21 Nov. 1940.
188
Philip Warner, Auchinleck: The Lonely Soldier (London: Buchan & Enright, 1981), p. 70;
see also letters of Amery to Linlithgow, 4 Dec. 1942, TOP, III, 251, pp. 340–5, and
351, p. 516.
189
Army Instruction (India) No. 76 of 1941, L/MIL/17/5/531, OIOC, BL.

the differences of pay of Indian and British officers within the first few
months of his taking command. In a letter to Amery he stated:
I am not happy about our system for the recruitment of Indians for Emergency
Commissions. We are getting some good stuff but I feel we are losing many of the
best of them. I have this in hand of one thing I am quite sure we can no longer
differentiate between Englishmen and Indians in the matter of pay . . . when both
are doing the same job side by side. There are many anomalies which need
adjusting and I am hoping to be able to do this.190
Officer cadets had been coming out from the UK to take up positions in
the Indian Army; however, Auchinleck did not want to see the numbers
of British Emergency Commissions stay high while the numbers of
Indians dropped. Further on in the letter to Amery, Auchinleck went
on to say that while good officer material was coming out from the UK,
‘all the same we must at our end see that we get an adequate supply of
Indians both as regards quantity and quality’.191 By the end of 1941, the
ratio of Indian officers to British officers had risen by 4 percentage
points,192 an upward trend that continued throughout the war.193 The
training time given to ECOs, both British and Indian, was drastically
shortened from the normal schedule as a result of war-time expansion.
Regular pre-war British commissioned officers received eighteen
months’ training at Sandhurst and pre-war ICOs thirty months at Dehra
Dun. Both then received a year’s further training in a battalion before
being posted to take up their own commissions. In war-time circum-
stances, ECOs, both British and Indian, received only four to six months
of tactical training at the various OTSs set up in India.194 Then, when an
officer was posted to a battalion or regiment, his instruction continued, at
least in theory.
Shortening the training time also affected the way that officers, both
British and Indian, generally learned Urdu, the language of the army.195

190
Auchinleck to Amery, 17 Mar. 1941, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
191
Ibid.
192
In 1940 it was 25%–75%. By 1941 it had risen to 29%–71%: Sharma, Nationalisation of
the Indian Army, p. 180.
193
There were some within the Indian Army as well as the British government who did not
want to see the numbers of British cadets dry up. Other senior Indian Army officers,
such as Auchinleck, Savory, and Maj. Gen. Punch Cowan, supported dismantling the
pre-war model.
194
OTSs Mhow, Bangalore, and Belgaum. The IMA was opened for Indian emergency
commissions on 19 June 1941 after the last regular commissions ended their term:
author’s interview with Brig. Mehta, 30 Oct. 2000.
195
Except in Gurkha units, where the language of command was Gurkhali. Officers joining
Gurkha units had to learn Urdu first and then were instructed in Gurkhali. ECOs
joining Gurkha units were further hampered by a lack of formal instruction in Gurkhali.
Regardless of this, officers were expected to learn it quickly and through the period of

All verbal commands to the VCOs and men were traditionally given in
Urdu, and pre-war instruction for officers encompassed a year’s training
with a personal munshi, or language teacher. At the end of this time, the
officer was expected to pass an exam in Urdu and receive his certificate.
War-time conditions meant that the instruction was seriously curtailed,
which in practice meant that, at least at first, neither British nor Indian
officers had sufficient knowledge of the language of command to give
orders and caused many issues in the opening stages of the Second
World War, especially in the Far East.
The pre-war Indianisation process officially came to an end in 1941
with Army Instruction (I) No. 76.196 Of course this did not mean that
prejudices disappeared overnight among officers, and the important
question is when and how the prejudices were for the most part eradi-
cated.197 From January 1940, all Indian and British officer candidates
who joined the Indian Army were ECOs.198 The first batch of EICOs
was sent to Dehra Dun for a shortened emergency commission course,
while an OTS was set up at Belgaum to accept British cadets only. By
summer 1940 two more OTS units were set up at Bangalore (British)
and Mhow (Indian/British). During this early period, many British
cadets and other ranks were sought for commissions, and by January
1941, the ratio of British to Indian officers had risen from 10:1 to 12:1.
The trend peaked there, however: from 1941 on, the numbers of British
cadets dropped significantly, while the numbers of Indian cadets rose.199

commanding troops: author’s interviews with British officers of the 4/4th and 4/8th
Gurkha Battalions.
196
It had been provisionally ended the previous year with File No. B/59865/AG-1 (6) of
3 August 1940.
197
Some Indian officers felt that there were British officers in Gurkha units who still felt
superior to Indian officers because they did not have any Indian officers in their units.
When I interviewed officers from the 4/4th and 4/8th Gurkhas, they did not express this
feeling. They did note, however, that they came into contact with few Indian officers,
since the Burma campaign was mostly very small unit fighting. The one prejudice that
all officers, British and Indian, did express was that they considered the class of soldier
that they commanded – Pathan, PM, Dogra, Madrassi, or Gurkha, etc. – to be the best
soldiers in the Indian Army.
198
As with pre-war Indian cadets, these came from both martial and non-martial race
backgrounds. There tended not to be distinctions made regarding the Indian cadets’
background. British cadets also represented many different classes of their society,
including NCOs promoted to the officer ranks. Some British cadets felt that they
would not have been welcomed by the pre-war Indian Army officer class, as they
came from working- or lower middle-class backgrounds.
199
There are a few reasons for this. First, the British Army, both at home and abroad, also
needed to fill officer positions. A programme was begun to recruit NCOs from British
battalions in India, but this was a failure and was admitted as such by the War Office.
Another effort was launched to attract ‘white’ cadets from the Commonwealth, but
demand in their home countries limited these as well. Americans were also sought from

By January 1945, the rate was 4.2 British officers for every 1 Indian
officer throughout the Indian Army.200 By 1945, there were 36,438
British officers and 15,747 Indian officers (including medical offi-
cers).201 Additionally, by the end of the war, all of the OTSs, except
Bangalore, were accepting both British and Indian cadets, including the
IMA. Mixing training companies of Indian and British officer cadets had
been happening since 1943, and many of the officers who participated in
this, both Indian and British, felt that this integration had helped to break
down any remaining barriers.202
A pamphlet listed as ‘Lectures for Officers Joining the Indian Army’,
intended for British officers from the UK joining the Indian Army, was
published in 1942. The pamphlet discusses the various fighting
‘classes’ targeted for recruitment into the army, including the new
ones, and makes clear that there were already ICOs in the Indian
Army. Old designations, such as KCIO and ICO, were to be done
away with. All officers were to be classified as BOs, British officers. The
pamphlet stresses that the British must ‘get to know’ their fellow Indian
officers and ‘pull together’, and points out that, in an expansion, there
will be good and bad officers, both Indian and British. The author, a
brigadier, stressed the equality of all officers by commenting, ‘[as for]
one of my ICOs I could not wish for a better leader British or
Indian’.203 Another pamphlet, ‘Notes for Guidance of Commanding
Officers, Staff and Regimental Officers’, published in January 1943,
also highlighted an important point regarding Indian officers. It still
divided the Indian officers into KCIOs, ICOs, and VCOs. In discuss-
ing ICOs, which included the emergency Indian commissioned offi-
cers, it stated that ‘they wear the same badges of ranks as British officer

the American Field Service Corps. These efforts netted twenty to thirty Americans:
author’s interviews with three ‘American’ Indian Army officers, Scott Gilmore, 4/8th
Gurkhas, 22 Jul. 1999; Pat Pattullo, 13th FFRifles, 26 Jul. 1999; and Wendell Nichols,
18th Garhwal Rifles, 18 Jul. 1999. It became clear that Indians were needed to fill the
spots: L/WS/1/799, OIOC, BL.
200
Prasad, Official History: Expansion, pp. 181–2, and Sharma, Nationalisation of the Indian
Army, pp. 183–4. However, by 1945 there were problems attracting enough Indian
officers of ‘sufficient quality’. (There were also problems attracting British officers of
‘sufficient quality’.) This was an issue that Auchinleck felt was going to create major
headaches unless confronted: Secret Telegram from Viceroy to Sec. of State for India,
21 Dec. 1944, L/WS/1/799, OIOC, BL.
201
Telegram from India Command to the War Office London, 1 May 1945, L/WS/1/707,
OIOC, BL.
202
Some officers noted that many of the participants mixed socially, at the OTSs and
during leave periods as well. Some British officers spent time at the family homes of
Indian officers: author’s interviews with officers, 1999–2009.
203
L/MIL/17/5/2225, OIOC, BL.

and should be treated in exactly the same way’.204 While information

was disseminated to new British officers, there were still some issues
with officers who did not want to serve in India; however, for many
officers their primary motivation was the belief that they were needed
to fight in Europe and did not want to miss the ‘show’.205 This is why
the findings of the Infantry Committee later in the year were so
important.206
Expansion of the Indian Army and Indianisation of the officer corps
raised organisational as well as racial issues. Two of these were rates of
pay for Indian officers and powers of punishment over British soldiers.
The principal grievance raised by Indian officers was that they had
traditionally not been paid at the same rate as British officers. This
discrepancy was eliminated for the most part early in 1942, when pay
for all regular commissioned officers and ECOs was standardised.207
This was a step in the right direction, but one inequality remained:
British personnel serving overseas were eligible for bonus pay. This issue
was not resolved until April 1945, but Auchinleck, as commander-in-
chief, was able to alter the rates of pay to mitigate this imbalance.208 The
Indian CO of the 1st Bihar Regiment wrote to Auchinleck to thank him
for his conscientiousness:
I know who is behind all these moves . . . and the ICOs thank you for your
kindness you have showed them during your command . . . [I]t seems that the
welfare of the ICOs is constantly in your mind . . . [Y]ou have removed the last
worry for the ICOs and the many conscientious British Officers . . . [I] thank you
for all this and all you have done for us.209
Power of punishment over British soldiers at this time was a more
controversial issue, for obvious reasons.210 Once the war had begun,
Indians were given equal command rights but were denied ‘powers of
punishment’ as outlined in paragraph 193 of the King’s Regulations,

204
L/MIL/17/5/2330, OIOC, BL.
205
Author’s interviews with British ofﬁcers, 1999–2009; and see also Adjutant General in
India’s Committee on Morale, Report of the Fourth Meeting, 15 Jul.–15 Oct. 1943,
L/WS/2/71, OIOC, BL, for more detail as well as Kaushik Roy, ‘Military Loyalty in the
Colonial Context: A Case Study of the Indian Army During World War II’, Journal of
Military History, 73 (Apr. 2009), p. 510.
206
See below, pp. 69–70.
207
Sharma, Nationalisation of the Indian Army, pp. 176–7.
208
See Wavell to Amery, 19 Oct. 1944, TOP, V, 57, 100, p. 210, n. 1; 120, p. 254; 134,
p. 270, for earlier discussion of the pay issues.
209
Indian CO of 1st Bihar Regiment to Auchinleck, 13 Apr. 1945, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
210
The central question was whether an Indian ofﬁcer could sit on a court martial and pass
judgement on an accused British soldier.

1940.211 This issue was not confronted until 1942212 when the Right
Honourable Leo Amery, representing the Government of India, stated
in a letter that Indian officers should be allowed to sit on courts martial
of British soldiers. The Government of India felt that to do otherwise
was detrimental to the morale of Indian officers.213 Both the viceroy, Lord
Linlithgow, and the commander-in-chief, India, Gen. Sir Archibald
Wavell, shared this view. The letter was sent to the secretary of state for
war in London requesting an appropriate resolution of this question.
A response, sent in early July 1942, clearly illustrates the British gov-
ernment’s opinion. The letter stated unequivocally ‘that ICOs should
not have power of punishment over white men’, commenting that
‘Gandhi is on the verge of breaking out again.’ The absurdity of
this statement is magnified by the further assertion that ‘while India
Command agree with making it easier I expect their predecessors were
saying the same kind of thing on the eve of the [Indian] Mutiny’.214
Amery stated to Linthligow, ‘Winston at Cabinet last night supremely
unreasonable. Says demand for power of punishment just sop to please
your executive and publicise further appeasement in India, last humili-
ation to poor British soldier, etc.’215 These letters made their way to
the Army Council, London, in August 1942, commenting that ‘events
in Malaya and Burma [defeats] have undoubtedly seriously affected
the prestige of the white man in the east and we do not want to do
anything that will make matters worse’.216 This debate – and the
responses from London – clearly demonstrates the limited understand-
ing of the Indian Army on the part of His Majesty’s Government
(HMG), and was later to play a role in the post-war period, when
decisions were made regarding the Indian Army without any context
and awareness of the force.

211
Powers of Punishment, WO 172/10685, NA.
212
Part of the reasoning for this might have been that GHQ India failed to recognise the
immediate likelihood of Indian officers being in the position of commanding British
personnel. This did not happen in the cavalry, infantry, or artillery but in other services
such as Signals and Engineering. A case of an Indian Officer in Signals in the Middle
East was brought forward as an example of the need to deal with the problem. Another
reason may have been that GHQ India was receiving reports of the beginnings of the
Indian National Army by May 1942. They may have recognised that this last vestige of
pre-war Indianisation must be eradicated. See WO 172/10685 and L/MIL/7/19158,
OIOC, BL.
213
L/MIL/7/19158, OIOC, BL.
214
Sec. of State for War, London, to Rt Hon. Amery, MP, 13 Jul. 1942, L/MIL/7/19158,
OIOC, BL. There were those in GHQ India who shared London’s views. A secret
document, published in February 1942, declares that a British officer is the surest
guardian against any soldier unrest: L/WS/1/456, OIOC, BL.
215 216
Amery to Linlithgow, TOP, II, 350, p. 480. WO 172/10685, NA.

Amery drafted further letters, with the support of Wavell and

Linlithgow, stating that he did not understand the reasoning behind
the refusal, as Indian officers had been deemed capable of exercising
powers of command. The replies that he received stated only that ‘while
we might ultimately have to concede the power of punishment to Indian
officers it would be most inexpedient to make this concession at the
present time’.217 The British government maintained this position
for another six months, but the issue was formally resolved by Indian
Army Orders 237–8, January 1943,218 followed by an official commu-
niqué on 5 June 1943 stating that Indian officers were to have powers of
punishment over British Army personnel.219 The official communiqué
stressed that
it would be a poor response to the magnificent achievements of Indian officers
and men in this war if we were to delay . . . in according these powers . . . [A]n
Indian officer who is felt able to exercise command is obviously to be trusted to
exercise powers of punishment and if he is deprived of such powers just because
he is an Indian, not only will it have a bad effect on his morale but may cause
issues with the men.220

Necessity was initially the prime motivation for the rapid expansion of
the Indian officer corps. When Auchinleck returned for his second stint
as commander-in-chief of the Indian Army in the summer of 1943, he
took on the role of champion of the abilities of the Indian officers and
their capacity for command. Auchinleck had inherited an army that had
been soundly defeated in two campaigns in Burma as well as Malaya.
The report produced by the Infantry Committee, India, in June 1943
also considered the calibre of officers serving in the Indian Army, noting
that leadership in the Indian battalions left much to be desired, and that
both British and Indian officers were lacking in this respect.221 Reports
had come in that some British officers were complaining about serving in
India, and the recommendation was to ship these men home as soon as
possible, as the need for their physical presence was outweighed by the

217
Extracts from War Cabinet Conclusions, Jul.–Aug. 1942, L/MIL/7/19158, OIOC, BL;
see also Amery to Linthligow, 1/9/42, TOP, II, 673, pp. 874–8, for more detail.
218
Paragraph 193 of the 1940 regulations was deleted and rephrased to include powers of
punishment: WO 172/10685, NA.
219
It was resolved when the Military Department in London finally recognised the need for
the change, and significantly after the Quit India movement had been decisively
suppressed in the autumn of 1942.
220
Sec. of State, Military Department, India, 5 Jun. 1943, L/MIL/7/19158, OIOC, BL.
221
This was the same report that recommended the formation of the training divisions and
tactical reforms for the Indian Army. It also included a section on morale which dealt
with officers: L/WS/1/1371, OIOC, BL.

demoralising effect of their negative attitude. The report also made

reference to what were apparently unresolved issues between Indian
and British officers, stressing that ‘no discrimination must be allowed’
by or among officers.222
In July 1943, Gen. G. N. Molesworth was tasked with answering a
series of questions drawn up by the India Office, London, concerning the
Indian Army, particularly the Indianisation process up to that point.223
Although there is no proof, it is very likely that Auchinleck had prior
knowledge of Molesworth’s answers, which endorsed views that he him-
self had expressed earlier in the war. The document firmly states that:
‘the pre-war system amounted to segregation . . . [I]t was so segregated to
ensure the Indians would not command British officers . . . [T]here is a
school of thought in which I include myself which considers the segrega-
tion policy a mistake.’224 It goes on to say that, at the time of writing,
Indians were in command of British officers and no significant problems
had been reported.
Gen. Auchinleck brought Lt Col (later Maj. Gen.) Rudra to GHQ
India in the autumn of 1943, in part to ‘keep in touch with promotions
and appointments for Indian officers’. Auchinleck had heard reports that
Indian officers believed they were being denied access to higher com-
mand.225 In August 1943 there were ninety-seven Indian lieutenant
colonels, of which only six were in command of fighting units. The vast
majority were in the Indian Medical Services, with a few in staff pos-
itions. There were six lieutenant colonels at General Staff Officer (GSO)
(Grade) 1 level, nine majors at GSO 2, and three captains at GSO 3,226
so obviously Indian officers were under-represented at high levels of
command at this juncture. However, the casualty rates of 1940–3 were
not that high, so many COs had not been replaced and one cannot
rapidly promote officers who have not been trained and educated for
their positions. This would happen later, in 1944 and 1945, and as a
result more Indians took command at the company, battalion, and even

222
The rest of the report considered other, more specific problems. One issue raised was
that the war in Burma required younger and fitter COs to command battalions. The
committee recommended, as a general rule, that commanding officers should be
replaced after two years’ service, as remaining with any one battalion for too long
made them stale. In reality, most COs did not spend this long with their units. The
officers were either promoted or sent to other units, and probably did not have the
opportunity to become stale: L/WS/1/1371, OIOC, BL.
223
This was the basis of a report that was to be sent to the US government to provide
background information on the Indian Army.
224 225
9 Jul. 1943, L/WS/1/1366, OIOC, BL. Palit, Rudra, pp. 269–72.
226
Sharma, Nationalisation of the Indian Army, p. 180.

brigade levels. Nevertheless, Rudra stated that Auchinleck ‘was deter-

mined to do something to redress the grievances’.227
The numbers of Indian COs of regiments and battalions had risen by
1945, and three Indian brigadiers had been rewarded for their service
with the Distinguished Service Order (DSO). This was not good enough
for some supporters of independence, but it demonstrates how hard
Auchinleck had pushed to get many officers promoted.228 Lt Col
Gautum Sharma notes, in his conclusion to Nationalisation of the Indian
Army, that ‘in spite of the changed scenario during the war, Indian
officers were given command most reluctantly’.229 This is partially true,
but it fails to consider the whole picture, and particularly to recognise
Auchinleck’s efforts from mid 1943 through the end of the war.230
In December 1944, Auchinleck clearly stated his intentions for the
future of the Indian Army:
I propose as a principle that the three services [Indian Army, Air Force, and
Navy] after the war shall be officered entirely by Indian officers so far as this is
possible and that the number of European officers shall be limited to that
required to fill positions which cannot be held by Indians owing to their lack of
experience or training.231
Auchinleck’s intent in formulating this proposal was partially to deter-
mine the post-war demand for British personnel. By the end of 1944
there were only a handful of Indians capable of brigade-level commands.

227
Palit, Rudra, p. 274. One example of the continued persistence of discrimination that
existed in some places also shows the efforts of some senior commanders to stamp it
out. It involves Captain M. Nair, who had been serving with the 16th Light Cavalry.
When he was posted to Fourteenth Army HQ as GSO 3, the staff was expecting an
Irishman after hearing his name and his accent when he spoke on the phone. Captain
Nair was not Irish but an Indian, and his arrival astonished the HQ, which promptly
sent him back to Delhi with excuses. Upon hearing of these, Auchinleck immediately
signalled Gen. Slim, who had not been present, to register his complaint about such
behaviour. Slim agreed with Auchinleck and immediately advised all units and
formations within the Fourteenth Army that this type of incident would not be
tolerated again. See Palit, Rudra, pp. 279–84.
228
Auchinleck personally promoted Lt Col M. R. Dutt to command the 7/10th Baluch in
the 1945 campaigns. The battalion’s officers objected to this decision, not because Dutt
was Indian but because they preferred that Maj. Korla (also Indian) should be in
command: author’s interviews with officers of the 7th Baluch. Auchinleck also posted
Maj. Sher Ali Khan from 7th Light Cavalry to his old battalion, the 1/1st Punjab. Sher
Ali took over command of the battalion during the 1945 campaign.
229
Sharma, Nationalisation of the Indian Army, p. 196.
230
As noted in a letter previously described, from the Indian CO of the 1st Bihar
Regiment, Auchinleck was different from his predecessors. This sentiment was
reiterated by more than fifty retired Indian/Pakistani officers, who felt that Auchinleck
was very perceptive and did as much as was humanly possible to redress past
imbalances.
231
Auchinleck to Wavell, 19 Dec. 1944, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.

It was improbable to believe that senior Indian ofﬁcers would be able to

hold command positions at the division or corps level by the end of
1945, due to natural wastage and the need for proper training and
education for senior command. Officers, both British and Indian, would
not be promoted without the necessary battlefield experience and
attendance at Staff College. Auchinleck had set the system in motion:
one need only look at the attendance figures at the Staff College at
Quetta to see this.
Attendance at Quetta was the precursor to higher command positions
during the pre-war and war periods, and during Auchinleck’s tenure the
admission of Indian officers increased significantly. The Staff College
class of 1940 at Quetta listed sixty-two officers, of whom four were
Indian. The staff of this period included eleven instructors, of whom
none was Indian.232 The last time that students were listed by name at
the Staff College was January 1942; in this class, there were 140 officers,
of whom 21 were Indians. The staff of twenty-three instructors included
only one Indian.233 For the remainder of the war, students were not
listed, only instructors. The 1944 list showed twenty-five instructors,
including three Indian officers,234 indicating a slow but steady trend.
Lt Gen Candeth was a student at Quetta in 1944. He noted that, of the
140 students, nearly 30 per cent were Indian officers. He also com-
mented that relations among staff and Indian and British officers were
very cordial. He felt that this was attributable to two factors: first, Indian
officers had proven themselves in the field; and, second, Auchinleck
firmly supported Indian officers. This attitude filtered down to all
levels.235 Brig. R. B. Chopra, a graduate of the class of 1945 Staff
College, mentioned that five of the forty instructors were Indian. His
class numbered some 180 officers, of whom nearly 40 were Indian. He
agreed with Lt Gen. Candeth’s comment that relations were good
between officers and instructors, regardless of ethnicity.236
The trend outlasted the end of the war. The first peace-time Staff
College course at Quetta was set for 1947. The number of students
was established at 200, of which 62 were Indian officers. Additionally,
another nine Indian officers were selected to complete the course at the
British Army Staff College, Camberley. Auchinleck was still the
commander-in-chief of the Indian Army when these plans were made.237

232 233
Indian Army List, 1940. Indian Army List, 1942.
234
Indian Army List, 1944.
235
Author’s interview with Lt Gen. Candeth, 29 Oct. 2000.
236
Author’s interview with Brig. Chopra, 22 Oct. 2000.
237
L/WS/1/824, OIOC, BL.

Wider spectrum of Indianisation

Due to the bottom-up process of Indianisation, I have found that the best
source of information for assessing the impact of the changes is the series
of interviews that I have conducted over the last ten years. Data from
these interviews, with officers who served at the battalion level and below,
were at the heart of my first work focusing on the Indian Army in the
Burma campaign, Phoenix from the Ashes.238 Later interviews expanded to
veterans of other Second World War campaigns, to broaden the scope of
the research picture. This section incorporates information from inter-
views with Indian officers to ascertain whether the feelings and attitudes
they experienced are consistent with those presented here.
In the autumn of 1944, Leo Amery went on a tour visiting with Indian
Army units and formations in Italy. In the course of his visits, he observed
in his diary that: ‘relations everywhere between British and Indian
officers seem natural and happy and there is great comradeship’.239
Brig. H. N. Shingal of the 9/13th FFRifles went to OTS Bangalore and
was part of a mixed company of British and Indian cadets. In his opinion,
most of the men related well. He felt that issues arose among officers,
whether at OTS or at the regiment, only as a result of personality, not
ethnic, conflicts.240 Brig. C. S. Mehta and Mr P. L. Roy joined the army
together, and both felt that the regular officers seemed aloof when they
first arrived at the 2nd Punjab Regimental Centre in 1942. Brig. Mehta
pointed out that this aloofness extended to the new British ECO arrivals
as well. Both men felt that early in the war there was a ‘regular’ versus
ECO rivalry among the officers, rather than any racial division.241 Brig.
Mehta did comment that he felt that his CO was suspicious of him when
he was posted to an active battalion in late 1942 during the height of the
Quit India movement. He perceived that this disappeared as the war
continued, and overall he had good relations with most of the British

238
Space considerations prevent the listing of officers of other regiments; names of all the
British and Indian officers interviewed are listed in the Bibliography. Many British
officers felt that, by the end of the war, instances of ethnic prejudice in their units had
decreased considerably. Some did note that there was still an ‘old guard’ in existence at
the Regimental Centres, but their view was gradually overshadowed by the performance
of Indians at the front. Significant statements from British officers included the
following: ‘he [Indian company commander] was greatly respected by all the British
officers’ – correspondence with Maj. R. Schlaefli; ‘he [Lt Col Sher Ali Khan, 1/1st
Punjab] was popular and efficient . . . excellent relationships [with Indian officers]’
(author’s correspondence with Maj. D. H. Pailthorpe).
239
Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, p. 1000.
240
Author’s interview with Brig. C. S. Shingal, 21 Oct. 2000.
241
Author’s interviews with Mr P. L. Roy, 25 Nov. 1999, and Brig. Mehta, 30 Oct. 2000.

ofﬁcers with whom he came into contact.242 Maj. Gen. A. K. Luthera of

the 1/1st Punjab, an EICO, found relations in his battalion very good,
including those with his CO, Maj. Gen. Grimshaw, who was a pre-war
regular.243 Brig. Gupta also joined the 1/1st Punjab.244 Both men felt
that as the war progressed the attitudes shifted more and more in favour
of Indian officers.245
The Indian officers who were part of the pre-war Indianised process –
Lt Gen. Candeth, Lt Gen. Katoch, Maj. Gen. Palit, and Brig. Chopra –
all noted that relationships among officers progressed well beyond
expectations. They all felt that this was due both to the open-mindedness
of the British ECOs and to the reform-minded regular officers, especially
Auchinleck.246 All of the Indian and British officers interviewed
expressed their admiration for Auchinleck and for all that he did for
Indian officers during the war.
The popular image is that there must have been some sort of friction
between British and Indian officers, but according to the survivors of
some of the units this was not really the case, especially after 1943.247
Some may say that time and age have mellowed memories, or that the
fact that these men fought and died together may have overshadowed any
prejudices either group might have had. There was a commonly held
opinion that the views of the old guard persisted at the regimental
centres,248 which is not surprising since most of the staff would not have
the bond of active service. As documented in many previous conflicts,
the shared experience of the battlefield tends to break down prejudices
that may exist in peace-time or in barracks.249

242
Author’s interview with Brig. Mehta, 30 Oct. 2000.
243
Author’s interview with Maj. Gen. A. K. Luthera, 28 Oct. 2000.
244
Author’s interview with Brig. Gupta, 27 Oct. 2000.
245
This observation was reiterated in interviews with Brig. Chatterji, 10th Baluch, 24 Oct.
2000, Brig. Lachiman Singh, Indian Engineers, and Maj. Gen. Sinha, 50th Parachute
Brigade, 26 Oct. 2000.
246
Author’s interviews with Lt Gen. Candeth, 29 Oct. 2000, Lt Gen. Katoch, 4 Nov. 2000,
Maj. Gen. Palit, 3 Nov. 2000, and Brig. Chopra, 22 Oct. 2000.
247
See Marston, Phoenix, for a detailed discussion of the Indianisation process at the
battalion and regimental level.
248
By 1943, the 13th FFRifles’ regimental centre at Abbottabad appeared to be
experiencing less controversy concerning Indian officers. Capt. Hank Howlett served
on staff at the centre from 1943 to 1946. He noted that, when he arrived, there were
some senior Indian officers. Many had served overseas and a few had been decorated.
He served under the command of Maj. (later Lt Gen.) K. S. Katoch. Capt. Howlett, as
an ECO, had no concerns about serving under Maj. Katoch’s command, considering
him a ‘top-class officer’: author’s interview with Capt. Howlett, 31 May 2001.
249
This was not true just for the Indian Army; it also occurred with black American troops
in the Second World War and the Korean War, as well as with African and European
soldiers in the ‘bush wars’ of the 1970s and 1980s.

End of the beginning: Indianisation

In the spring of 1945,250 Auchinleck, Wavell, and Amery began the
process of full Indianisation of the Indian Army.251 Anticipating that
either Dominion status or outright independence was imminent for
India, the three men agreed on the need for planning ahead. In one of
the first memoranda written on this topic, Wavell outlined three areas of
focus: first, the need to maintain the efficiency of the army during
whatever transition period would be necessary; second, the need to
convince Indian political leaders and the population that the intent was
ultimately to hand over full control of the Indian Army to them; and,
third, the need to safeguard the interests of British officers who would
remain during the interim period.
To attain these goals it was understood that many EICOs would need
to be offered regular commissions. The Government of India began the
final process of Indianisation with this document.252 Further deliber-
ations continued; members of the War Cabinet (as well as others) were
aware that British officers would need to remain in some positions,
especially at the highest levels, due to the lack of Indian officers at and
above the brigadier rank. It was estimated that it would take a decade for
the Indian Army to educate and train enough senior Indian officers to
take over the higher levels of command from British officers, and twenty
years for complete Indianisation to occur.253 By early April, Amery and
Auchinleck were moving to end the entry of any British officers to the

250
Auchinleck ordered a committee to report on the future size and needs of the Indian
Army in early 1945. It was named the Army in India Reorganisation Committee
(Willcox Committee). The section dealing with the future size of the officer corps was
largely drafted by Brig. Enoch Powell (later the Rt Hon. Enoch Powell, who gave the
infamous ‘rivers of blood’ speech in 1968). It stated that, considering future needs and
problems with recruitment of Indian officers, the Indian Army would need to recruit
British officers for the next twenty-five years. The secretary of the Chiefs of Staff
Committee, India, Philip Mason noted that Powell had based this conclusion on
certain axioms, completely failing to recognise the human aspect and reality of the
political situation in India in 1945. As Mason noted, ‘Auchinleck dismissed this chapter
as altogether off the mark’: Mason, A Shaft of Sunlight (London: Andre Deutsch, 1978),
pp. 197–8.
251
See ‘Future Provision of officers for the Indian Armed Services, Memo by sec of state
for India’, 24 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 407, pp. 943–5, for clear direction for the ending of
entry of British officers and the further Indianisation of the army.
252
Wavell to Amery, 5 Mar. 1945, TOP, V, 297, pp. 649–56. See also 298, pp. 656–60,
which highlights the initial debates, but also reinforces the notion that the army
performed well during the war, even during the Quit India movement.
253
War Cabinet, 27 Mar. 1945, TOP, V, 346; see pp. 775–6 for specific numbers.
However, in a later memo, the time period was decreased to ten to fifteen years; see
War Cabinet, 23 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 405, p. 933.

army at the lowest levels.254 This move caused much political tension for
the coalition government in London. As stated by Sir J. Grigg, Secretary
of State for War,
the proposal to recruit no more British officers into the Indian Army is
fundamental and the more I think of it the further does it seem to lead us. As
you [Amery] point out it can only be decided by the War Cabinet but surely the
India Committee must consider it before we make any final recommendation to
the Cabinet in regard to the Viceroy’s interim political proposals.255
Following deliberations, the War Cabinet and the India Committee
released their findings on the proposal on 25 April. They stated, in part:
The Secretary of State for War said that he was ready, if that was the general sense
of the Committee, to say that in view of the pledges of the past and the way the
Indians had fought in this war, he regarded as inescapable the Indianisation of
the Indian Army along the lines proposed . . . The Committee accepted the view
of the Secretary of State for War and agreed that the report should state in
[no uncertain] terms that in their view this was the inevitable and inescapable
conclusion which must be announced at the same time as any political
announcement.256
It was all formally agreed in War Cabinet on 27 April 1945, with
Churchill’s acquiescence.257
Auchinleck reinforced the trend towards complete Indianisation
throughout the summer of 1945. His actions were noted during the
Army Commanders Conference in 1945: ‘relationships between British
and Indian officers must be kept constantly in mind by Army command-
ers. He had laid down the policy of complete integration between the two
types and COs and others (Indian as well as British) who did not do all
they could to complete that policy would be removed.’258

Loyalty of the Indian Army

The importance of keeping the Indian Army apolitical throughout the
war period is highlighted in the following quote, taken from a report of a
conversation between Gen. Wavell, the viceroy, and Mohandas Gandhi
on 24 June 1945:

254
War Cabinet, 2 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 363, pp. 805–7, paragraph 10.
255
Sir J. Grigg to Amery, 23 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 403, p. 928; see also Wavell to Amery,
26 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 419, p. 975.
256
War Cabinet, 25 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 413, p. 967; see also 422, pp. 977–8.
257
See War Cabinet, 27 Apr. 1945, TOP, V, 423, p. 983.
258
L/WS/1/1523, OIOC, BL.

[Gandhi] then digressed into a long story about members of the Indian Army
who had wished to see him but had been compelled to come to him by night and
in mufti. I said the one thing which was disastrous for any Government was if the
Army became political; that the Indian Army had a CinC [Auchinleck] in whom
they had their full trust; that their reputation never stood higher and that I could
assure him that the Indian Army was on the whole a thoroughly contented body.
He agreed to all these statements.259

The political loyalty of the Indian Army during the Second World War
was never threatened on a large scale, but this did not mean that individ-
ual soldiers or officers did not have political opinions or sympathies with
the nationalist movement or that there were not small mutinies.260 The
traditional attractions of esprit de corps, family and village connections,
izzat for some communities,261 and a wage262 still enticed many men to
join during the war. As recruitment was expanded and new classes were
accepted, many recruits flocked to the army as a way to ensure their
status.263 Many Indian men who joined as officers felt it was their duty to
join to fight the fascist threat, and considered that the issue of the British
presence in India could wait until the end of the war.264 Issues of morale
were noted, especially in the early campaigns, due to over-expansion of
the ranks and officer corps and lack of training. This trend was reversed
by 1943, as the Indian Army began to reform training and officer selec-
tion. As Tarak Barkawi stated: ‘The Indian Army should have encoun-
tered some serious difficulties for cohesion and fighting spirit . . . yet by
and large, it remained loyal and fought effectively during the war.’265

259
Penderel Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal (London: Oxford University Press,
1973), p. 145.
260
See Callahan, ‘The Indian Army, Total War’; Roy, ‘Military Loyalty’; Tarak Barkawi,
‘Culture and Combat in the Colonies: The Indian Army in the Second World War’,
Journal of Contemporary History 41 (2006), pp. 325–55; and Yong, Garrison State,
pp. 282–6, for more detail.
261
It was seen as an honour to fight, especially as viewed by some communities in northern
India; this is referred to as izzat. See D. F. Karaka, With the 14th Army (Bombay:
Thacker & Co., 1944), pp. 34–6.
262
There was lack of employment in rural India throughout this period. See S. C.
Aggarwal, History of the Supply Department: 1939–1945 (New Delhi: Government
Publications, 1947), and Roy, ‘Military Loyalty’, for more detail.
263
Many of the officers interviewed noted the troops’ lack of political sophistication when
the war came to an end and thoughts turned to the future of India: author’s interviews
and correspondence with officers, 1999–2009. Roy also stated: ‘Despite the food
problem and the somewhat muted anti-Raj activities by political parties, the Indian
soldiery remained loyal, and recruits continued to flow into the army between late 1943
and mid 1945’ (‘Military Loyalty’, p. 517).
264
See L/WS/2/71, OIOC, BL. See especially the reports dealing with November and
December 1944 and January 1945 for more detail.
265
Barkawi, ‘Culture and Combat’, p. 328.

There were two signiﬁcant incidents of ‘mutiny’ or disobedience by

the rank and file of some units during the early years of the war that were
thought to have been influenced by political considerations.266 Interest-
ingly, both involved members of the traditional recruitment groups – the
martial races – rather than newly recruited classes. The first incident
occurred early in December 1939 and involved troops of the Royal
Indian Army Service Corps (RIASC) stationed in Egypt. Thirty-four
men (twenty-two Jat Sikhs, eleven PMs, and one Hindu) were arrested
after refusing to be used as porters and loaders of supplies. The men were
reservists called up for duty as drivers. They regarded the orders as
‘coolie work’ and considered being seen to do it as a loss of face. The
Indian Army took the incident very seriously, and launched an investi-
gation in both Egypt and the Punjab to track down any potential political
causes for the disturbance. Three official causes were eventually given for
the incident: first, that British and Indian officers were not applying
themselves appropriately in their duty as officers; second, subversive
propaganda; and, third, the issue raised by the soldiers themselves,
the potential loss of face brought about by doing the work ordered.267
The Kirti Lehar group was cited as the main political agitator.268 In the
end, despite the fact that a political element was considered to be part
of the problem, GHQ India felt that the best way to resolve the problem
was for the officers to make more of an effort to get to know their men
and to perform their duties in a more professional fashion.269

266
Another incident occurred in April 1940: an ICO from the 4/19th Hyderabad Regiment,
while stationed in Singapore, wrote a letter to India that was picked up by the censors.
The letter talked about the need for the Second World War to last for such a long time
that it would exhaust the British Empire and make it easier for Indians to turn them out
of the country. The officer in question, Lt Mohammed Zahir-ud-Din, had already been
monitored by the army’s intelligence section for seditious letters. The officer admitted
his offence, and the authorities moved to ship him back to India to face a court martial.
However, due to the ‘milking’ of the army that was happening at the time, officer
turnover within the battalion was high, and this played a role in the unit’s response:
the battalion’s Ahir company called for the lieutenant to be reinstated. When this failed,
they protested, and were disarmed as a result; they then proceeded to go on a hunger
strike. Other ICOs and KCIOs were called in by senior command to come up with a
strategy, and these officers were able to meet with the strikers and convince them of the
impropriety of Lt Zahir-ud-Din’s actions. The company was reformed and the situation
ended. See Chandar Sundaram, ‘Seditious Letters and Steel Helmets: Disaffection
Among Indian Troops in Singapore and Hong Kong, 1940–1941, and the Formation
of the Indian National Army’, in Roy, ed., War and Society in Colonial India, pp. 126–60.
267
Commander-in-Chief, Egypt, to Commander-in-Chief, India, 16 Jan. 1940, L/WS/1/
303, OIOC, BL.
268
Report by J. P. Worton, Indian Police, 2 Feb. 1940, L/WS/1/303, OIOC, BL. The Kirti
Lehar was a Sikh Communist organisation.
269
Commander-in-Chief, India, to Commander-in-Chief, Egypt 13 Feb. 1940, L/WS/1/
303, OIOC, BL.

Another incident concerned the Sikh squadron of the Central India

Horse Regiment (CIH). In July 1940, when the regiment was ordered to
embark from Bombay to Egypt, the Sikh squadron refused the order.
The whole squadron was immediately removed and sent to Bolarum
without incident,270 while the rest of the regiment sailed.271 Upon inves-
tigation, many of the same issues were uncovered as had been revealed in
the RIASC case. The most important point made was that the officers
were not in touch with their men and the ‘state of discipline left much to
be desired’.272 Political influence was also listed as a cause of the prob-
lems. The main reason why the Kirti Lehar had gained influence was the
fact that reservists had been called up to both units and thus had been
exposed to the organisation’s political opinions. Another point raised by
GHQ India was that there appeared to be rising communal agitation over
the possibility of an independent Pakistan and the partition of the
Punjab. Some recruiting officers noted that able-bodied men of the Sikh,
Dogra, and PM communities wished to remain with their villages in case
of violence. The commander-in-chief, India, at the time, Gen. Sir Robert
Cassels, recommended several changes to avoid the problem recurring.
Most important, the CIH would no longer have a Sikh Squadron, and all
Sikh recruits and reservists would be discharged. No more Jat Sikhs
would be sent to the RIASC. Expansion of Jat Sikh recruitment to the
army as a whole would be decreased, and newer classes such as Mazbhi
and Ramdasia Sikhs would be sought instead.273 The Intelligence
Bureau Indian Army released a report stating that, while political agita-
tion might contribute to incidents of insubordination, its effects could be
countered with good discipline and morale.274
Overall political influence as a distinct factor on the behaviour of
Indian Army troops and officers is harder to gauge. However, the lack
of mutinies, combined with the army’s documented ability to function in
Aid to the Civil Power275 against the Indian National Congress indicates

270
Viceroy to Sec. of State for India, 2 Aug. 1940, L/WS/1/303, OIOC, BL.
271
A Sikh squadron from the 19th Lancers petitioned to be sent as the replacement
squadron of the CIH: Mason, Matter of Honour, p. 514.
272
Viceroy to Sec. of State, India, 9 Aug. 1940, L/WS/1/303, OIOC, BL.
273
Viceroy to Sec. of State, India, 10 Sep. 1940, L/WS/1/303, OIOC, BL.
274
Note by Intelligence Bureau, 5 Sep. 1940, L/WS/1/303, OIOC, BL.
275
Training in the Aid to the Civil Power during the early war years was difficult as units
were expanded and shipped to other areas of the world to fight. The Indian Army still
felt that this was a major role that it needed to fulfil. In 1941, it published an updated
version of doctrine for the Indian Army, MTP No. 11 (India) Notes on Training for Duties
in the Aid of the Civil Power, L/MIL/17/5/2252, OIOC, BL. It reinforced earlier doctrine:
‘Army in India will be called upon in suppressing disturbances when disorder in a
locality develops beyond the power of the civil police . . . [T]he instructions in this

that political inﬂuence was not signiﬁcant.276 Writing on this topic in

1994, Judith Brown noted that ‘despite the temporary losses of control
[during the Quit India movement] the overall security of the Raj was
never endangered by the movement. After its destruction the British
proved capable of putting Indian politics on ice until the end of the
war . . . It was after the war that the loyalty of the police and troops came
to be seriously doubted or displayed.’277
The onset of war was confusing for men and officers who may have
been nationalist, since there were differing views even within the nation-
alist movement as to what the response to the war should be. As noted
earlier, the Indian National Congress Party was not in favour of men
joining the Indian Army, but there was dissension in the party ranks, as
many members felt that Congress should support the war effort. Also,
Congress’ opposition to the war focused chiefly on the fact that the
viceroy had declared war without the courtesy of first consulting the
Indian nationalist parties, rather than any specific reason why India
should not be involved. Gandhi wrote an article in April 1942 and later
articles, after the defeats in Malaya and Burma, discussing the role of
‘foreign soldiers in India’ and the need for the British to Quit India.
Many within the Government of India felt this was an attempt to stir
things up among British, American, and Indian soldiers. It explicitly
claimed that the Indian Army was maintained to hold India in subjection
and called for its dissolution.278 Such articles created problems for the
Government of India. At one point in London, Leo Amery was asked by
the Soviet ambassador if the Indian Army was still firm in support of the
war effort. Amery responded, ‘the Army was entirely indifferent to Con-
gress and either hostile to it or contemptuous of its pretensions’.279
By August 1942, some army personnel were expressing suspicion
about the opinions of various ICOs and KCIOs. In early August, Gandhi
went on a hunger strike and the viceroy, Linlithgow, asked GHQ India

training pamphlet confer no new powers on military commanders. They are a mere
guide as to the way in which certain operations can be carried out.’
276
The Punjab Unionist Party, which controlled the Punjab for most of the war, supported
the war effort. As Yong noted: ‘Until 1945 . . . the Unionist government fully backed the
mobilization process, by which some 800,000 combatants were recruited from
the Punjab and 250,000,000 rupees gathered through war loans’ (Garrison State, p.
301).
277
Brown, Modern India, pp. 324–5.
278
Sir M. Hallet to Linlithgow, 4 May 1942, MSS Eur F125/110, OIOC, BL; also in TOP,
II, p. 24; see also letter from Sir H. Twynam to Linlithgow, 25 May 1942, TOP, II,
pp. 117–18, and Linlithgow to Amery, 15 Jun. 1942, TOP, II, pp. 205–6, for more
details on Gandhi’s rhetoric.
279
Note by Amery, 22 Jul. 1942, TOP, II, 305, pp. 429–30.

for an assessment of sentiment in the army if he were to die. It was

reported as follows: ‘No effect on Moslem rank and file. Possibly some
effect on Hindu rank and file . . . [T]he broadening of the basis recruit-
ment of officers has increased chance of definite reactions. I feel little
doubt that whole of the officer class would give vent to very violent
criticism [of Gandhi].’280
Gandhi went on another hunger strike in early 1943, and the Govern-
ment of India again attempted to assess the army’s feelings in the event of
his death. In the same vein as the earlier intelligence reports, no major
change in attitudes was anticipated; if anything, the Government of India
expressed less concern about the possibility of future tension. As Wavell
reported to Linlithgow,
So far we have had no indication that the attitude of the VCOs, NCOs, and men
of the ‘fighting’ portion . . . will be any different from that hitherto consistently
adopted in these matters . . . [A]s regards ICOs, so far we have only had one case
of the officer in Ambala, who after the August disturbances, indicated that his
political views made it impossible for him to carry out orders involving actions
against Congress activities. We have seen nothing to indicate that ICOs as a class
have been affected, or are likely to allow the political situation to affect their
attitude.281

The vast and rapid expansion of the Indian Army meant an influx of
recruits and officers with minimal experience. This was a factor in the
army’s Far East losses in 1942, and was also a catalyst for dramatic shifts
in army policy and culture. The defeats at the hands of the Japanese
destroyed the long-standing belief that the British were invincible. The
overall performance of the army during this period was very poor and
morale was at an all-time low. Paradoxically, however, the Japanese
conquest of Burma threatened the frontier of India. Many nationalist-
inclined youths who had not previously seen the point of joining the
Indian Army to fight in the Middle East suddenly found themselves
signing up to enrol as officers to defeat a more direct and deadly threat
to the future of India.282
The two major political events of the war period – the Quit India
movement of August 1942 and the Bengal famine of 1943 – caused
tension for the Government of India, and many within the government
worried about how the Indian Army would react to the two crises. The
Quit India movement began in August 1942, and some considered it the

280
Linlithgow to Amery, 2 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 479, p. 636.
281
Wavell to Linlithgow, 24 Feb. 1943, TOP, III, 533, pp. 726–7.
282
Author’s interviews with Indian ofﬁcers, 1999–2009; see also Roy, ‘Military Loyalty’.

greatest threat to British rule since the Indian Mutiny of 1857.283

However, no Indian Army units mutinied.284 A detailed discussion of
the Cripps Mission in March 1942 and the reasoning behind the Indian
National Congress Party, seeking to create a non-cooperation campaign,
calling for a resolution by Congress for the British to Quit India and
to start a mass struggle on non-violent lines, falls outside the scope of
this book.285 (In the end, it was not all non-violent; there were incidents
of violence, and people were killed.) The relevance of the movement
to this book lies in considering the Indian Army’s ability to contain
the major disruptions which resulted from the arrests of many senior
and mid-level leaders of the Indian National Congress Party on 9
August.286
The Government of India (GOI) recognised that the Indian National
Congress party was organising a non-violent campaign that could have
major repercussions. They moved ﬁrst: they arrested some 66,000
people, outlawed their committees, imposed a blackout on the press,
and arrested the senior leadership of Congress. Rioting broke out
following news of the arrests: more than 200 police stations were attacked
and burned; telephone and railway lines were cut; revenue ofﬁces and
court houses were destroyed. The attacks on the railways (with more
than 300 stations affected) were considered the most daring and danger-
ous, due to the need to reinforce the eastern provinces, particularly as the
Japanese Army stood at the gates to India.287 The GOI and senior
command in the Indian Army viewed this outburst not simply as a

283
‘By far the most serious since that of 1857’: Linlithgow to Churchill, 31 Aug. 1942, in
Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, p. 808; however, he contradicts this in various other memos
of this period which state that the situation was under control, etc. C. A. Bayly and
Harper specifically stated in Forgotten Armies: ‘convulsed by the biggest revolt against
British rule since 1857’ (p. 239).
284
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 249: ‘The army and police had, despite all
the fears, remained solid.’
285
See Nicholas Owen, ‘The Cripps Mission of 1942: A Reinterpretation’, Journal of
Imperial and Commonwealth History, 30, 1 (2002), pp. 61–98, and TOP, II, for much
more detail; see also Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, pp. 805–51, as a detailed primer on the
background and viewpoint from Amery. See C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies,
pp. 281–91 and 295–8, for a short synopsis. As stated in a variety of sources and
confirmed by the author, see the ‘India intelligence summaries’, Aug.–Oct. 1942,
L/WS/1/1433, OIOC, BL, for the best primary source narratives of the episode.
286
More than 30,000 members of the Indian National Congress were arrested. See
Linlithgow to Amery, 3 Oct. 1942, TOP, III, 57, pp. 75–86, for a more detailed
discussion of the role of Congress in the August violence; for a counter-argument, see
a report written by a BBC official, TOP, III, enclosure to 138, pp. 196–200, as well as
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, pp. 247–8.
287
Rob Johnson, ‘The Indian Army and Internal Security: 1919–1946’, in Kaushik Roy,
The Indian Army in the Two World Wars (Leiden: Brill, 2012), p. 383.

political protest, but as one that sought to destroy the ability of the Raj to
protect the country from Japanese aggression.288
The Indian Army was called out immediately in support, and tasked
with taking over areas that the police had been forced to abandon or that
were in need of reinforcement. Air assets were used to cover the rail lines,
and there were discussions about the possibility of straﬁng people found
on the lines. The need to protect the rail lines raised the issue of
minimum force.289 The Indian Army and the Indian Police opened ﬁre
more than 300 times during this period, killing 1,000 people and
wounding another 2,000.290
The insurrection occurred at the same time as the Indian and
British Armies were ‘licking their wounds’ and preparing to defend
India against a possible Japanese invasion. Most of the disturbances
took place in the eastern part of the United Provinces (UP) and
Bihar Province, as well as some of the urban districts. There was
relatively little disruption in the Punjab, NWFP, Sind, and Assam,
where Muslim opinion was opposed to the campaign. Units defending
Assam in the east were cut off for a period of time in August, as the
movement carried out a series of attacks, especially in Bihar291 and
eastern parts of the UP.292 By 11 August, Linlithgow stated to Amery
that the ‘situation was not too bad . . . taken over the country as
a whole, the total casualties hardly exceed, indeed hardly approach,
those that result from a severe communal riot in Bombay or
Ahmeddabad’.293
By the end of August, the situation appeared to be under control; the
War Cabinet in London stated as much in their minutes.294 The Quit
India movement was dealt with swiftly, and appeared to have had little

288
See the various letters from the viceroy, Linlithgow, to Churchill, TOP, II. Linlithgow
specifically called it the ‘most serious rebellion since that of 1857’ (see pp. 853–4).
289
See comments in Johnson, ‘The Indian Army and Internal Security’, and the open
debates in Parliament for the use of the Royal Air Force to strafe the people on the
railway lines.
290
TOP, II, p. 933.
291
See War Cabinet conclusions, 17 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 575, pp. 736–9, and 24 Aug.
1942, 621, pp. 800–2, for more details.
292
Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, pp. 807–8; see also Linlithgow to Amery, 17 Aug. 1942,
TOP, II, 577, pp. 739–45, for more detail.
293
Linlithgow to Amery, 11 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 509, p. 662: see also TOP, III, 51, pp.
67–8, for a full list of casualties.
294
‘The PM expressed gratification at the firmness with which the government of India had
dealt with the situation in India’; it went on, perhaps prematurely: ‘the limited response
to the revolutionary campaign of the Congress Party had provided a practical
demonstration that Congress did not represent the masses of the Indian people’ (War
Cabinet Minutes, 31 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 664, p. 855).

impact on the army’s loyalty.295 The Indian Army appeared to have

fulfilled its duties in the Aid to the Civil Power effectively, despite fears
for their lack of resolve.296 In one report, Amery asserted that ‘The
soldiers regard Congress as contemptible politicians (Army has been
untouched by these events).’297 Many Indian and British officers who
supported the future independence of India nevertheless felt that the
Quit India movement’s timing was inappropriate,298 considering that
the threat of Japanese invasion outweighed internal political consider-
ations.299 Lord Linlithgow, summing up the efforts of the Indian Army
during the difficult days of August, wrote ‘The army has come through
the recent trouble untouched and loyal. It has given us the fullest backing
in the restoration of order.’300 Despite this praise, Churchill remained
unconvinced. On 24 June 1943 Gen. Wavell recorded in his journal that
He [Churchill] found another subject for criticism in the loyalty of the Indian
Army. Amery had sent a paper to the War Cabinet calling attention to obvious
dangers arising from the expansion of the Indian Army. It was a result of some
papers I had sent home as C-in-C. We realized the dangers in India, were keeping
a close watch on them, but were not in least alarmed and convinced of the general
soundness of the Indian Army. The PM, however, chose to read into Amery’s
note the impression that the Indian Army was liable to rise at any moment; and he
accused me of creating a Frankenstein by putting modern weapons in the hands
of the sepoys, spoke of 1857, and was really childish about it.301
The Bengal famine of 1943 placed considerable strain on the Govern-
ment of India and raised concerns in London about its potential impact

295
There was one incident involving an officer who refused to undertake action against
Congress, which was attributed to his Parsee ethnic background. Congress’ actions
were worrying for some Indians working within the system, but most considered them
merely a nuisance. See Linlithgow to Amery, 1 Sep. 1942, TOP, II, 672, pp. 872–3, as
well as Amery to Linlithgow, 5 Oct. 1942, TOP, III, 69, p. 99, for more debate
regarding the officer in question. There was also a report written by a member of the
BBC that made its way to Linlithgow and Amery, highlighting that there was much
tension in the countryside against the British and comments regarding the Indian Army,
such as ‘I was given the most absolute assurance in the Punjab that the peoples from
whom the Indian Army is recruited are absolutely loyal to us. Young Indians who came
in contact with Indian soldiers on trains told me they were as full of their own prowess
as they were of contempt for the British Army.’
296
See Sir T. Stewart to Linlithgow, 22 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 612, pp. 787–91, for evidence
of the Indian and British troops carrying on with their missions. See Amery to
Linlithgow, 3 Nov. 1942, TOP, III, enclosure to 138, pp. 196–200.
297
Amery to Linlithgow, 24 Aug. 1942, TOP, II, 618, p. 7.
298
Even Gen. Auchinleck commented to Linlithgow that the effects on the Army were ‘loss
of six to eight week’s training . . . and close to 57 battalions used on Internal Security
duties’: Linlithgow to Amery, 10 Sep. 1942, TOP, II, 722.
299
Author’s interviews with British and Indian officers, 1999–2009.
300
Linlithgow to Viscount Halifax, 22 Sep. 1942, TOP, III, 9, p. 17.
301
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, pp. 3–4.

on the Indian Army.302 Before the Second World War, India had ceased
to be capable of producing sufﬁcient grain to feed its population. The
vast majority of food imports came from Burma and Malaya. The Japan-
ese occupation of both countries meant that India was cut off from some
of its important sources of rice and other food grains. While rationing
was imposed, a shortage arose in 1943, at least partially due to human
error.303 Responding to this, merchants in Bombay, Madras, and Bengal
began to hoard stocks, and prices for all food goods rose sharply.
Although Bengal was the worst-affected area, the Bengal Provincial
Government was reluctant to ask for help or advice. By July, large
numbers of starving rural peasants had come to Calcutta seeking relief.
The Provincial Government did nothing in the way of providing relief,
shelter, or supplies. It is estimated that 3–3.5 million people died by the
end of 1943,304 with deaths averaging more than 2,000 per week at one
point. The Government of India was alerted to the scope of the problem
primarily by the many war correspondents who were based in Calcutta,
reporting on the misery.305
Over the next six months, the Government of India attempted to
consolidate the rationing system throughout the country, and called for
other provinces to ship their surplus stocks to Bengal.306 Linlithgow sent
a note to Amery stating that the army would most likely have to be
involved, especially in transport of relief goods.307 Amery was also aware
that, if the famine spread to other areas, many sepoys, NCOs, VCOs, and
ICOs would be fearful for their families, and that this would be detri-
mental to morale.308

302
See extensive coverage of the famine in TOP, IV, where many letters are covered
showing the awareness and attempts to deal with the growing food shortages.
C. A. Bayly and Harper have a short synopsis in their Forgotten Armies, pp. 281–91
and 295–8.
303
Amery states on 7 Dec. 1943 that there was evidence that the Bengal administration had
started to see signs of crop failure by April 1943; Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, p. 954.
Also, when the Government of India requested that the British government help deal
with the shortfall, they could not promise much support due to shipping concerns. See
Yong, Garrison State, p. 292. See also Sir Lumley to Linlithgow, 30 Dec. 1942, TOP,
III, 302, pp. 436–7, for an early discussion of the issues of lack of food supplies; War
Cabinet Paper, 31 Jul. 1943, TOP, IV, 67, pp. 139–41, for speciﬁc details forecasting
potential famine; and C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 251.
304
Yong estimates that 3.5 million people died (Garrison State, p. 291).
305
Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, pp. 909–13.
306
This would cause some tensions for the Government of India and the ‘loyal’ Unionist
government in the Punjab. See Yong, Garrison State, pp. 292–5.
307
Linlithgow to Amery, 20 Sep. 1943, TOP, IV, 125, pp. 284–5.
308
Economic Situation in India, 22 Sep. 1943, TOP, IV, 132, p. 306: ‘sight of famine
conditions cannot but cause distress to European troops and anxiety to the Indian
troops as to the condition of their families in other parts of India’.

London was not taking the crisis seriously; as Leo Amery noted in his
diary entry of 24 September 1943: ‘Winston [Churchill] may be right in
saying that the starvation of anyhow under-fed Bengalis is less serious
than sturdy Greeks, at any rate from the war point of view, but he makes
no sufﬁcient allowance for the sense of Empire responsibility in this
country.’309 Wavell became viceroy on 20 October 1943 and moved
quickly to try to apply military capabilities and planning to deal with
the crisis. Preliminary moves to use the resources of the Indian Army in
support of relief efforts began at the end of October.310 On 1 November,
Auchinleck approved a scheme to employ emergency resources. The
army was to raise and utilise every available kind of transport – rail, road,
and water – to release supplies to the correct people and places.
A brigade and its supporting elements were earmarked to carry out these
important duties. As Wavell stated to Amery, ‘troops are being located
throughout the worst affected districts to assist the civil authorities in
movement and escorting allotted quotas to villages . . . [T]roops are
being drafted into Bengal from other parts of India to give assistance.’311
Within a fortnight, the relief effort doubled;312 the army seized ‘hoarded’
stocks and distributed them,313 and the price of food goods began to
drop. Auchinleck and the army were praised by the viceroy and Amery
for their huge efforts and effectiveness, within a few weeks of formally
becoming involved.314 The Indian Army continued to support relief
efforts through the end of 1943 and into early 1944, even as various
divisions began the counteroffensives in the Arakan and Assam regions
of the India/Burma frontier.315

309
Amery, 24 Sep. 1943, Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, p. 943. It was noted earlier in the
entry that Winston admitted something should be done, however, ‘the Indians are not
the only people who are starving in this war’ (ibid.). See also C. A. Bayly and Harper,
Forgotten Armies, pp. 286–7.
310
Wavell to Amery, 30 Oct. 1943, TOP, IV, 193, p. 415: ‘this is now deﬁnitely a military
as well as a charity problem since the army must have a stable base’.
311
Wavell to Amery, 2 Nov. 1943, TOP, IV, 200, p. 443.
312
Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 758–9: see also Wavell to Amery, 1 Nov. 1943, TOP, IV, 199,
pp. 431–48, especially enclosure 4, for more details of the army’s preparedness to
support the relief effort.
313
One Indian Army ofﬁcer, who wishes to remain anonymous, reported that some of
the merchants who were found to be ‘hoarding’ were ‘despatched’ by some sepoys. The
army was commended for their efforts within days of deploying. Wavell stated
to Amery, ‘Army got going with commendable speed’ (8 Nov. 1943, TOP, IV, 213,
p. 456).
314
See letters from viceroy to Auchinleck, 2 Nov. 1943, and Amery to Auchinleck, 11 Nov.
1943, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
315
Government of India, Food Department to Sec. of State, 6 Jan. 1944, TOP, IV, 299;
see pp. 598–9.

As late as March 1944, Government of India ofﬁcials were expressing

concern that the crisis was not fully resolved.316 There were signs of
improvement, however, as evidenced by the decision to shift army sup-
port units from Bengal to the fronts in the Arakan and Imphal Plain as
the ﬁghting in those regions intensiﬁed.317

Morale reports
Examining the secret documents housed in the Oriental and India
Office Collections, British Libraries, compiled to assess the overall
morale of all units (British, African, and Indian) within South East
Asia Command (SEAC) and India Command shows an increase in
morale from 1943, peaking during the 1945 campaigns. The report
from October 1943 indicates that the majority of desertions came from
the ranks of recruits, and cites non-payment of signing bonuses as
the primary reason. It also notes that many PMs and Sikhs were wary
of the future role of the Indian Army under an Indian Congress
government, fearing a drastic cutback in numbers and loss of money
for the men.318
The report for October 1944 indicates a dramatic improvement in
attitudes in the Indian Army. The Japanese offensives of 1944 had been
decisively defeated; desertions had significantly decreased; and the
reasons for desertions still occurring continued to centre on signing
bonuses. One concern raised by Indian other ranks was about the future,
but this focused mostly on demobilisation and jobs after the war’s end.
This was another cause for desertions in the Indian engineers and other
service-related units, as men deserted to gain lucrative jobs in the civil
sector. Many Indian officers took offence to a letter published in 1944 by
the American special envoy to New Delhi, William Phillips, in which he
stated that the Indian Army was a mercenary army and that the morale of

316
Barnes, ed., Empire at Bay, pp. 913–14. See also Amery’s entry for 26 Jun. 1944, ‘India
now calculates that there is a shortage of two million tons of food all over and that
something like a million tons of wheat must be imported by next April to hold the
situation’ (ibid., p. 989). A second famine was seen as a potential strategic issue for
the future. As stated in the War Cabinet, ‘a second famine might have serious effect on
the morale of the Indian Army and on the security of India as a whole . . . the provision
of wheat for India is therefore a military requirement of great strategical importance’ (18
Mar. 1944, TOP, IV, 432, p. 817).
317
Wavell to Amery, 18 Apr. 1944, TOP, IV, 465, p. 896. Wavell would still emphasise in
later letters the need to avoid a second famine for fear of morale issues for the army
throughout the summer of 1944, as the Indian Army followed up their recent success in
the Arakan and Imphal and started to push the Japanese back into central Burma.
318
October 1943 Report, L/WS/2/71, OIOC, BL.

the Indian officers was low.319 An Indian officer’s letter of rebuttal was
included in the report. In response to the comment about a mercenary
army, he stated: ‘I have not yet met a soldier of any rank of any national-
ity who is doing work without accepting any money in return.’320
The morale report of February 1945 confirms that desertion was lower
than in previous reports. It also states that the successful advance in
Burma ‘ha[d] raised the already high morale of Indian troops yet higher
and it [was] generally considered by unit commanders that morale
[was] . . . at its peak’. A letter from an Indian captain was included in
the report, exhorting, ‘Wake up young men of India. Sacrifice everything
for your country and save your country from the hands of the
Japanese.’321 Lord Wavell characterised sentiment in the army towards
the end of war in a report to the War Cabinet:
[Wavell] thought there was no question of any spread of political ideas among the
troops. As regards the Officers, we had taken in a very large number of temporary
officers from all classes, some of whom might be politically minded. There was,
however, no sign in the Army as a whole of any sort of political movement. There
had been in connection with the August 1942 disturbances a single case of a
temporary officer who had resigned because he did not agree with the Army being
used in those disturbances, but his case, Lord Wavell thought was unique. He
doubted very much if the majority of the Army ever thought of the Pakistan issue.
An officer, whatever his religion, had Hindus and Muslims alike serving under
him. In Arakan there had been one Indian Brigadier with three Indian
commanding officers, and this had worked without any difficulty.322
Congress’ view of the Indian Army in July 1945 may confirm Wavell’s
assessment. An official from Congress, Dr Abul Kalam Azad, regarded
the make-up of the Indian Army as separate from normal Indian society,
specifically stating to Wavell that ‘the character of the Indian Army ...
[was] divorced from the Indian people’.323 However, as Wavell made
clear during the Simla Conference in July 1945, keeping the Indian Army
separate from politics was part and parcel of its successes:
No government could permit its army to take part in politics. The Indian Army
had done splendidly during the war and had enhanced its own and India’s
reputation. He [Wavell] believed it to be a contented army and he thought the
delegates did not realize what rapid progress had been made with Indianisation
during the war. He would certainly oppose any suggestion that the Indian Army

319
Author’s interviews with Indian ofﬁcers (1999–2009) and Oct. 1944, L/WS/2/71,
OIOC, BL.
320
October 1944 Report, L/WS/2/71, OIOC, BL.
321
February 1945 Report, L/WS/2/71, OIOC, BL.
322
War Cabinet, 26 Mar. 1945, TOP, V, 339, p. 740.
323
Amery to Wavell, 16 Jul. 1945, TOP, V, 620, p. 1265.

should be brought into politics. On the other hand he wished it to be a truly

national army, efﬁcient and contented.324

Conclusion
The Indian Army entered the post-war period as a major victor. It had
defeated the Imperial Japanese Army and the German and Italian
Armies. It was seen by many as a very professional force, due to the
many reforms that took place as well as the performance in battle. The
ending of the war also saw the Indian Army as a changed force, one that
would not return to the pre-Second World War days and one that saw its
future in a different light, due to the rise in the Indian nationalist
movement. The army also had to contend with the future officer make-
up as recruitment of British officers came to an end, as well as war-time
recruitment practices. It was a professional force; however, the make-up
of the officer corps and the jawans was slowly changing.
In a letter written not long after the end of the Second World War,
Auchinleck articulated two important points about the future of the
Indian Army. The first was that a place must be found in the Indian
Army of the future for the new infantry regiments raised during the
war.325 The second was that ‘the [Indian] army [of 1945] recognises no
difference of caste or creed or race and I hope that it never will’.326 This
second point is particularly poignant when considering how the army cut
back in the post-war period, setting precedents which have largely con-
tinued up to the present and are evident in contemporary recruitment
methods of the Indian and Pakistan Armies.327 Unlike what had
happened at the end of the First World War, however, some of the new
classes were kept within the Indian Army on a level appropriate to the
reductions made by a peace-time army, although recruitment in the
Punjab would still remain high in the post-war period.328

324
Cabinet Paper, 18 Jul. 1945, TOP, V, 624, p. 1272.
325
Two battalions from the Assam and Bihar Regiments were commended for their
performance during the Burma campaign. Contrast this with two battalions of the
Chamar and Ajmer Regiments, who also saw service but were reported not to have
done particularly well. The findings also reported that failings in these units were due to
weak junior leaders, rather than poor fighting capability of the men. See Willcox Report,
Part II, Library of Field Marshal Sir John Chapple, London.
326
Auchinleck to National Defence Council, 13 Oct. 1945, Auchinleck Papers, University
of Manchester.
327
Interestingly, this was confirmed by many Indian and Pakistani officers during the
interviews and visits with various regiments in 2000: author’s interviews with Indian
and Pakistani officers, 1999–2009.
328
For example, the 16th Light Cavalry, originally raised in Madras in the late 1700s,
reverted to a one-class Madrassi regiment in 1946: Gaylor, Sons of John Company, p. 93.

Many senior British officers remained in post; the plan was a gradual
transition as more Indian officers were prepared for higher command.
There no longer seemed any argument against their ascendancy in the
face of the Indian Army’s uniformly successful performance against
German, Italian, and particularly Imperial Japanese forces. The expan-
sion of the Indian Army, more than 2 million men and thousands of
officers for the war effort, was critical to this success, and reforming the
pre-war Indianisation process as well as the recruitment practices of the
pre-war period was critical to effective expansion. The Indian Army’s
performance in 1945 made it clear to many detractors, including Prime
Minister Winston Churchill, that it was a different army from the one
that had entered the war six years earlier. The records of Indian officers
provided further proof that, contrary to prejudiced expectations, Indians
were more than capable of commanding not just other Indians but also
British officers in combat. In fact, it is not far-fetched to claim that the
Indian Army of 1945 might not have been as successful without these
changes.
Many of the pre-war ills of the Indianisation process were rectified by
late 1942. In the meantime, however, Japanese victories had seriously
damaged the Indian Army’s morale. It was clear that extensive reforms,
both tactical and social, were badly needed. The crucial political correl-
ation to the defeats in Burma and Malaya was that, with the arrival of the
Japanese Army on the borders of India, many Indian officers felt that they
were fighting for the defence of India, regardless of whether that might
mean fighting under the command of the British.
After the first Arakan campaign, the Indian Army was prepared to
tackle the Burma campaign. Its performance during the 1944 and 1945
campaigns was testament to the effect of the recently implemented
reforms. The attendant rise in morale lowered the rate of desertions,329
and the improved performance of officers helped to increase discipline
and morale. Improvements in officer relations and performance also
helped to dispel the last vestiges of belief that Indian officers were
second-class citizens. The performance of Indian Army units in Italy
and Greece reinforced esprit de corps, and they also benefited from
recruitment and Indianisation reforms within India Command.
The creation of the Indian National Army330 and reports of desertion
in the field during 1942 and 1943 in Burma were mostly the result
of poor morale and leadership, as well as military setbacks. Gen.

329
Talbot, Punjab and the Raj, p. 100.
330
See Chapter 3 for a more in-depth discussion of the INA and its impact on the post-war
period.

Figure 2.5 Announcement of the Japanese surrender in Singapore

Auchinleck, commenting on the motives of captured INA soldiers and

officers, pointed out bluntly that ‘it is quite wrong to adopt the attitude
that because these men had been in service in a British controlled Indian
Army that therefore their loyalty must be the same as British soldiers. As
I have tried to explain, they had no real loyalty towards Britain as Britain,
not as we understand loyalty.’331 The successful performance of Indian
Army formations in Africa and the Middle East during the same period
serves to underscore this point. As social and tactical reforms took hold
in 1943 and defeats were turned into victories, both morale and disci-
pline improved, and the INA became less of a factor.
Officers and recruits were drawn to the army for many reasons: rela-
tively lucrative wages, izzat, regimental pride and esprit de corps, the
opportunity to serve as an officer, and the desire to fight against fascism.
Many officers considered themselves nationalist at heart but believed
regardless that joining up was the best option available, both to enable

331
Gen. Auchinleck, ‘Strictly personal and secret’, quoted in Gajendra Singh, ‘Breaking
the Chains with Which We Were Bound: The Interrogation Chamber, the Indian
National Army and the Negation of Military Identities’, in Roy, ed., The Indian Army
in the Two World Wars, p. 518.

them to take part in the defence of India and to secure a good position for
themselves in the eventual creation of the independent Indian state.
Some officers came from families that had nationalist sympathies and
personal connections to senior Congress officials.
The contention that the army was primarily ‘apolitical’ is perhaps best
supported by considering its performance during the trying days of the
Quit India movement and the Bengal famine, as described earlier. Even
in these situations, they were not shamed or criticised by their families
when they joined the army. On the contrary, many officers pointed out
that the general feeling was that an independent India would need these
men as the core of its army.332 The defeat of the Japanese Imperial Army,
Nazi Germany, and fascist Italy, and the role played therein by Indian
soldiers and officers, instilled in the army and its men a newfound sense
of self-confidence that political leaders could not ignore and soon recog-
nised as an advantage for the independent India to come.
The Indian Army was taxed throughout the coming years, as the INA
trials occurred, it was deployed to South East Asia, and communal
violence in India exploded to unprecedented heights. The professional-
isation and esprit de corps that were reborn through battlefield exploits in
the Second World War helped the army to steer a fairly clear path in the
coming years. Their loyalty was tested; however, the Indian Army could
claim that the institution remained loyal during the tumultuous post-war
period.

332
Author’s interviews with Indian ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.

Map 3.1 India 1945–1947

116

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The Indian National Army and the Royal Indian Navy mutiny 117

There is, however, one silver lining in the cloud that has overtaken us,
and that is, the British Indian Army of today is not the British Indian
Army of the last war. Soldiers of the Azad Hind Fauj [Indian National
Army] have had numerous opportunities of coming in close contact
with members of the British Indian Army . . . There is no doubt that at
the heart large sections of the British Indian Army sympathize with Azad
Hind Fauj and its ﬁght for freedom. But the British Indian Army is not
yet prepared to take the risk and line up with the revolutionaries.
Subhas Chandra Bose, 21 May 19451

Some historians feel that the Indian National Army can be considered
proof, of an unorthodox kind, of latent political sentiment within the
Indian Army.2 As mentioned in Chapter 2, the INA was raised during
the Second World War, with the support of the IJA;3 lasted less than three
years; and went through two different configurations during that period.
In total, it numbered some 40,000 men and women, half of whom are
estimated to have been recruited from Indian Army prisoners of war
(POWs).4 The INA’s battlefield performance was quite poor when
assessed either alongside the IJA or against the reformed Fourteenth
Army on the battlefields of Assam and Burma. Reports of its creation in
1942/3 caused consternation among the political and military leadership

1
Quoted in Sugata Bose, His Majesty’s Opponent: Subhas Chandra Bose and India’s Struggle
Against Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011), p. 295.
2
This chapter will focus only on the formation of the INA under the auspices of the
Imperial Japanese Army. It will not deal with the German-raised Free India Legion,
which was raised from Indian prisoners of war from the North Africa campaign and
numbered close to 3,000 men. For more information on the Free India Legion, see Milan
Hauner, India in Axis Strategy: Germany, Japan and Indian Nationalists in the Second World
War (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1981). For a wider discussion on the INA, see the following
sources in the OIOC, BL: L/WS/1/1433, L/WS/1/1576, L/WS/1/1771, L/WS/2/45, L/WS/
2/46, L/WS/1/1506. See K. K. Ghosh, The Indian National Army (New Delhi: Meenakshi
Prakashan, 1969); Joyce Lebra, Jungle Alliance: Japan and the Indian National Army
(Singapore: Asia Paciﬁc Press, 1971); Gerrard Corr, War of the Springing Tiger
(London: Osprey, 1975); Hugh Toye, The Springing Tiger. A Study of a Revolutionary:
Subhas Chandra Bose (London: Cassell, 1959); Peter Ward Fay, The Forgotten Army:
India’s Armed Struggle for Independence (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press,
1993); Bose, His Majesty’s Opponent; Leonard Gordon, Brothers Against the Raj:
A Biography of Indian Nationalists Sarat and Subhas Chandra Bose (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1990); Mohan Singh, Soldier’s Contribution to Indian Independence (New
Delhi, 1974); Shah Nawaz Khan, My Memories of the INA and Its Netaji (Delhi, 1946);
K. S. Giani, Indian Independence Movement in Asia (Lahore, 1947); Stephen Cohen,
‘Subhas Chandra Bose and the Indian National Army’, Paciﬁc Affairs, 36, 4 (Winter,
1963–4), pp. 411–29; Sundaram, ‘The Indian National Army’; Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’;
Chandar Sundaram, ‘Soldier Disaffection and the Creation of the Indian National Army’,
Indo-British Review, 19, 1 (1990), pp. 155–62; Sundaram, ‘Seditious Letters and Steel
Helmets’; and Gajendra Singh, ‘Breaking the Chains’.
3
They were referred to as ‘Jiffs’ (Japanese Indian Forces) by many within the Indian Army.
4
See Gajenda Singh, ‘Breaking the Chains’.

of the GOI, but in the end its formation did not constitute a legitimate
mutiny, and its presence had a negligible impact on the Indian Army.5
The INA’s dubious battlefield performance notwithstanding, political
fallout from INA recruits after the Second World War was considerable.
Chandar Sundaram describes them as ‘paper tigers’; Christopher Bayly
summed it up thus: ‘[The] INA was to become a much more powerful
enemy of the British Empire in defeat than it had been during its ill-fated
triumphal march on Delhi.’6
Many Indian National Congress and Muslim League politicians did
not support the INA during the war;7 Nehru was quoted on 19 August
1945 as saying that: ‘I was of the opinion and am still of the opinion that
the leaders and others of this Army [INA] had been misguided in many
ways and had failed to appreciate the larger consequences of their unfor-
tunate association with the Japanese . . . Therefore, whatever the motive
behind these people, they had to be resisted in India or outside.’8
However, after the war, the Indian National Congress party, and
Jawaharlal Nehru in particular, used the INA as a political card in an
attempt to further destabilise British rule. After the war ended, the Indian
Army had to decide how much of a threat these people were, and what
should be done with them. The situation was politically fraught; the
Indian Army generally considered INA members despicable traitors,
but Nehru and other politicians were lauding them as freedom fighters
striving to liberate India from the yoke of British colonial oppression.
This pulled at the conflicting loyalties felt by many in the Indian Army –
professional loyalty to the regiment and the army, against personal loyalty
to India and, often, a longing for independence.
After a lengthy and rigorous assessment process, the decision was
made to court-martial a representative selection of the 20,000 Indian
Army personnel identified as members of the INA.9 Ultimately the
number sent for trial was quite small, since Gen. Auchinleck was con-
cerned with the state of the Indian Army’s morale and thought it best to
put the whole matter behind them as quickly as possible.10
INA members were to have another unforeseen and damaging role in
the chaos of partition. Released due to political pressure from both

5
See Callahan, ‘The Indian Army, Total War . . . ’, p. 127.
6
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 402.
7
See comments by Cohen in ‘Subhas Chandra Bose’, pp. 420–2.
8
Quoted in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 798 and Toye, The Springing Tiger, p. 171.
9
Cohen, ‘Subhas Chandra Bose’, p. 413.
10
See letter of 26 Nov. 1945, Auchinleck to Wavell, No. 1119, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester, on his reasons why leniency was the best way forward. This
was a controversial position, but so would its opposite have been; the best way to handle
this matter was a subject of considerable controversy in the Indian Army. See also
Connell, Auchinleck, speciﬁcally the chapter on the INA trials (pp. 794–819).

Indian and British political leaders, many of these men sought employ-
ment as ‘military advisers’ to the growing number of paramilitary
political volunteer groups forming in 1946 and 1947, including the
Congress Volunteer Corps, Rashtrya Swayam Sewak Sangh (RSS
Sangh), Revolutionary Socialist Party of India Army, Muslim League
National Guards, and Sikh Jathas (legion). INA veterans provided
advice in military tactics, weapons, and organisation, and many went
on to command and lead various ‘gangs’ in their pursuit of killing rival
political or communal groups, wreaking havoc not just in the Punjab
but also in Bengal and the United Provinces.11

Raising of the first INA

The INA was created from Indian POWs who were convinced or coerced
to fight for the Japanese, generally in the expectation of helping a victori-
ous Japanese Army to liberate India from British imperial rule and, not
incidentally, betray their oaths to the king-emperor.12 The first phase of
its creation occurred under the leadership and planning of Giani Pritam
Singh of the Independent League, with the assistance of a recently
captured Indian Army officer, Captain Mohan Singh, and a Japanese
Army officer, Maj. Fujiwara Iwaichi, from Japanese Imperial General
Headquarters (IGHQ). Two days after the fall of Singapore, 15 February
1942, Mohan Singh and Maj. Fujiwara briefed the 40,000 captured
Indian officers, VCOs, NCOs, and soldiers from the 9th and 11th Indian
Divisions. As stated in Chapter 2, the units and formations that had been
sent to Malaya in 1940 and 1941 had been heavily ‘milked’. The basic
training of the soldiers, NCOs, VCOs, and officers had been lacklustre.
The ability of the EICOs and ECOs had been wanting due to the lack of
training and familiarity with their soldiers. All these issues came to a head

11
See Ayesha Jalal, Self and Sovereignty: Individual and Community in South Asian Islam
Since 1850 (London: Routledge, 2000), pp. 526, 534. Jalal also highlights a very
dangerous trend of former Gurkha soldiers being hired to train some of the volunteer
groups as well (ibid., p. 531). See also Tuker, Memory, p. 447, and Swarna Aiyar,
‘August Anarchy’, in D. A. Low and Howard Brasted, eds., Freedom, Trauma,
Continuities: Northern India and Independence (London: Sage Publications, 1998),
pp. 28–32.
12
The actual raising of the force was down to the efforts of the Japanese Imperial General
Headquarters and the Indian Independent League, a violent Indian nationalist
movement headquartered in Thailand. The Independent League viewed the INA as its
military wing: Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, pp. 35–7. See also Sundaram, ‘Seditious Letters
and Steel Helmets’, for more details regarding the disaffection in the Indian Army units
serving in Hong Kong in 1941. As Sundaram pointed out: ‘the two incidents discussed
in this article [Hong Kong and Singapore] did not, by themselves, lead to the formation
of the INA. That occurred only with the conjunction of the political situation in India
and the unmitigated disaster of the British Far Eastern strategy’ (ibid., p. 149).

as soldiers, NCOs, VCOs, and some ICOs questioned their loyalty to the
Indian Army from the perspective of captivity. By April 1942, close to
15,000 were reported to have joined the INA; it appears that of the fifty
ICOs who surrendered, thirty-five joined the INA, along with nearly one
hundred VCOs.13
The reasons for joining the INA have been debated since the end of the
war.14 Possible explanations offered have included: nationalism; soldiers
following the lead of officers, VCOs, or NCOs;15 preferential treatment
from the Japanese;16 monetary incentives; attempts to protect Indian
soldiers from harsh treatment at the hands of the IJA; attempts to deploy
to the battlefront to surrender as soon as possible and rejoin the ranks of
the Indian Army. The charismatic appeal of Subhas Chandra Bose,17
after he took command of the ‘second’ INA in the summer of 1943, has
also been widely cited.18

13
Barkawi, ‘Culture and Combat’, p. 339, and Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’.
14
More than 50% of the total number of Indian Army POWs refused to join. The numbers
of POWs who refused to join were even higher in the units captured in Hong Kong. See
Gajendra Singh, ‘Breaking the Chains’, for more details.
15
See Tuker, Memory, pp. 52–3. It is well known that the loyalty of many Indian soldiers
was to the VCOs and officers in the battalion or regiment, not necessarily to the king-
emperor. This was confirmed in numerous interviews with Indian and British officers,
1999–2009. See also comment by Gen. Auchinleck: ‘the loyalty of our men was really to
the officers of the regiment or unit, and . . . although there may have been some abstract
sentiments of loyalty and patriotism to the Government and to the King, the men’s
allegiance for all practical purposes was focused on the regiment, and particularly on the
regimental officers, on whom they depended for their welfare, advancement and future
prospects’ (12 Feb. 1946, No. 1137, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester; also
in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 947).
16
Many historians and histories of the INA and INA interrogation results cited this reason.
17
‘INA deeply affected by Subhas Bose’s inspiring leadership and clever propaganda . . .
[T]he personal influence of Subhas Bose on all ranks of the INA is tremendous and
undeniable.’ See SEAC Weekly Security Intelligence Summary, no. 194, 20 Jul. 1945,
L/WS/1/1506, OIOC, BL, for more details. Bose was a Bengali, educated at Calcutta
University and Cambridge University. He passed the very difficult ICS exam, ranking
fourth in the list. He later resigned to take up the nationalist cause. See Gordon, Brothers
Against the Raj, and Toye, The Springing Tiger, for detailed discussions of Bose. For more
recent analysis, see Bose, His Majesty’s Opponent.
18
See the extensive discussion by Gajendra Singh, ‘Breaking the Chains’, for more
information. British intelligence and officials appeared to go back and forth during the
war period regarding this reasoning. One common issue was the role of the VCOs or
ICOs within a given regiment or battalion that had been captured. Many times the
Indian POWs resisted the efforts of the INA, while others followed their ICOs or VCOs
who decided to join. In the end, the Indian soldier was loyal to his NCOs, VCOs, ICOs,
and British officers and to the regiment as a whole, not to the British Raj. This distinction
was well known to many within the Indian Army. This, among many similar themes, was
discussed in more than 100 interviews with British and Indian officers, 1999–2009. See
also Barkawi, ‘Culture and Combat’, pp. 339–40.

The embarrassing defeat of the III Indian Corps in Malaya destroyed

the myth of British capability and leadership in war for many of the
Indian POWs. The over-expansion of the army and officer corps also
played a role.19 Another issue that has been cited for some of the ICOs
who joined was the pre-war Indianisation process, which many con-
sidered ‘prejudiced’ and humiliating;20 many officers who joined the
INA had come from the 1/14th Punjab Regiment, one of the pre-war
Indianised battalions.21 Even Gen. Sir Claude Auchinleck believed that
the tensions of the pre-war Indianisation process were one of the driving
forces behind the motivations of some of the INA.22 The rank and file
pulled from all the various classes of the pre-war Indian Army; however,
the INA recruited many more Sikhs, Jats, and Dogras than Punjabi
Musalmans, Pathans, and Gurkhas.23
Captain Mohan Singh was made a major general by the IJA and tasked
with raising and preparing the INA for operations in Burma and Assam.
Fujiwara was replaced as the liaison officer with the INA from IGHQ by
Colonel Iwakuro Hideo, who held less favourable views of the INA.
Mohan Singh set out to create two divisions of 15,000 men each, a goal
which the Japanese viewed as too ambitious. Many within the Japanese
IGHQ and the Burma Army came over time to view the INA as deeply

19
See Chapter 2 as well as Marston, Phoenix, and Moreman, Jungle, which discuss the
negative impact of lack of professionalism in the early years of the war. See also Barkawi,
‘Culture and Combat’, p. 343, and ‘Indian National Army – Counter measures’ 1/7
Gurkha Rifles, Loose Archives, G46, Gurkha Museum, Winchester, UK: ‘once things
are going well troops are less likely to be affected by Indian National Army propaganda’.
This was confirmed as the Fourteenth Army became stronger and better trained. In 1944
and 1945, the INA did not receive any support in terms of desertions, and actually lost
many INA soldiers who surrendered to the Fourteenth Army during the Ha-Go and
U-Go offensives. See also Roy, ‘Military Loyalty’, pp. 509–10, 517.
20
See Cohen, ‘Subhas Chandra Bose’, p. 414; confirmed with Indian Army officers in
interviews with the author, 1999–2009. See also Sundaram, ‘Seditious Letters’, and the
discussions of the pre-war Indianised battalion, the 4/19th Hyderabad Regiment issues
in Singapore, and the power of an unenlightened CO and his negative impact on a
battalion, on the verge of fighting the Japanese.
21
See Tuker, Memory, p. 52, for more discussion. He as well as other officers called for the
disbandment of this battalion in the post-war period.
22
Quoted in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 947. An INA officer specifically stated similar
comments ‘[throughout] our career in the Indian Army there had been distinctions
between the British Officers and the [ICOs]. The [ICOs] had not been treated as well
as our English comrades or brother officers’ (Barkawi, ‘Culture and Combat’, p. 332).
23
Shah Nawaz Khan, My Memories, p. 26. Bose recognised that the majority of the recruits
were Hindus and the potential impact of this within the INA. He specifically urged
Hindus to be generous with members from other religious groups. See Bose, His
Majesty’s Opponent, p. 252. Some Indian Army historians have claimed that no
Gurkhas joined the INA, but this is false. See Shah Nawaz Khan, My Memories, p. 26,
and Ronald Hyam, Britain’s Declining Empire: The Road to Decolonisation, 1918–1968
(Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 96.

suspicious, since it was an army of ‘surrendered’ personnel, which was

anathema to the Bushido code of the IJA. By September 1942, however,
due mostly to the ‘propaganda’ value of the INA, the IGHQ allowed the
formation of the 1st INA Division and ancillary units.24
Relations between Mohan Singh and the IGHQ began to deteriorate
by the end of 1942. Supplies for division and ancillary units became an
ongoing issue, as did the IGHQ moving elements of the INA to the
battlefront without consulting Mohan Singh. INA soldiers were used as
camp followers to the IJA, as well as construction troops to build camps
and airfields.25 The situation came to a head as the Independent League
began to question Mohan Singh’s reliability, after he requested that all
INA soldiers swear allegiance to him and only him. At around the same
time, a senior officer of the INA also defected to the British at the first
opportunity. Mohan Singh must have been aware that the IGHQ
and Independent League were conspiring against him, and he dissolved
the INA. The League and the IGHQ moved to arrest Singh in late
December 1942.
The IGHQ recognised that there was a need to reorganise the INA.
They sought the services of Subhas Chandra Bose as the new leader of
the INA (he would also lead the Indian Independence League).26 Bose
was a nationalist, and interested in the violent overthrow of the Raj,
unlike many in the Indian National Congress or Muslim League at the
time. He had also helped organise the Free India Legion27 and had been
working in Germany since 1940. Bose arrived in June 1943 to take
command of the INA or, as some referred to it, the second incarnation.
He was considered to be a more adept political leader and strategist
than Mohan Singh, who was in many ways a soldier first and a politician
second.28 The Japanese allowed Bose to proclaim the Provisional

24
The names of the three ‘guerrilla regiments’ were Gandhi, Nehru, and Azad, and they
numbered close to 9,000 men. The ancillary units numbered close to 4,000–5,000 men
each. The choice of the term ‘guerrilla’ is odd, as the regiments served as normal
conventional light infantry. It most likely had to do with the political connotations of
the term.
25
Tuker provides an eyewitness account of a POW describing INA being used as prison
guards and ﬁring parties, dealing with escaped Commonwealth POWs in Singapore. See
his Memory, pp. 565–7.
26
See C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 279.
27
Many of the POWs for this organisation came from one formation, the 3rd Indian Motor
Brigade, which had been ravaged in North Africa.
28
During the height of the Bengal famine, Bose offered supplies of rice from Burma to
relieve the suffering: C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 291. Many POWs
considered Bose a better leader than Singh; Bose also refused to take a military title
(ibid., p. 322).

Government of Free India, Azad Hind, on 21 October 1943;29 he also

named himself head of state, foreign minister, and C-in-C of the INA.30
Bose was also interested in trying to mobilise the Indian communities
of South East Asia to join the INA. He was only partially successful
in this initiative; after the first INA was dissolved, only 9,000 former
soldiers offered their services for the second incarnation, along with
25,000 Indian civilians, mostly Tamils.31
The second incarnation of the INA comprised three divisions and the
independent Nehru Brigade. The 1st INA Division was mostly POWs
(although some were scattered throughout the 2nd Division).32 The 3rd
Division was made up solely of Indian civilians. An officer training school
was established at Nee Soon, and some officers also went to the Japanese
Imperial Military Academy.33 (One significant reason for the INA’s
eventual failure was the fact that, of the thirty-five ICOs and one
hundred-plus VCOs recruited, most were rapidly promoted to senior-
level positions for which they were inadequately trained, educated, or
experienced.)
In early 1944, Bose met with senior Japanese Army officials to discuss
the INA’s potential involvement in the Japanese offensives planned for
the Arakan and Imphal regions.34 As Mohan Singh had before him, Bose
encountered reluctance from IJA senior staff to allow the INA a central
role in any major offensives. The reasons were the same: distrust of
soldiers who switched sides; lack of training; and differing doctrinal
practices, due to some of the soldiers having previous experience in the
Indian Army.35 Eventually the IJA agreed to designate one INA regi-
ment, the Bose Brigade,36 as part of the Ha-Go offensive into the Arakan,
on the condition that their performance would determine the fate of the
rest of the INA.
Once the Bose Brigade was shipped to Rangoon to prepare for the
offensive, the IJA officers had to negotiate further with Bose regarding

29
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 796.
30
Maj. Gen. Shahid Hamid, Disastrous Twilight: A Personal Record of the Partition of India
(Barnsley, UK: Leo Cooper, 1986), p. 16.
31
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 323. Not all of the recruits were nationalists;
many were unemployed labourers who preferred service in the INA to Japanese forced
labour camps (ibid., p. 326).
32
See Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, pp. 37–8, as well as India Command Weekly Intelligence
Summaries, no. 178, Part III, Appendix B, L/WS/1/1433, OIOC, BL.
33
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 325.
34
See Chapter 2 for a wider discussion of Operations Ha-Go and U-Go and the eventual
defeat of the IJA.
35
C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 371.
36
Bose pulled the ‘best’ from other units and regiments to ﬁll out this speciﬁc brigade,
knowing its performance was going to be judged.

command and control, speciﬁcally whether INA ofﬁcers would com-

mand the battalions, companies, and platoons. In the end, the brigade
was split into two and served under the command of various Japanese
divisions, acting mostly as a secondary force, rather than spearheading an
invasion of India, as Bose had hoped.37
Another argument for INA troops taking part in the offensives was to
interact with and induce other Indian soldiers to switch sides. During
the ﬁrst Arakan offensive of 1942/3, twenty-three Sikh jawans from the
1/15th Punjab Regiment had defected to the INA, and later fourteen
Hindu Jats from the same battalion had followed suit. The INA hoped to
provoke more of this.38 During the Ha-Go offensive of 1944, the INA
again played a secondary role, and there was only one instance of Indian
troops (Indian State Forces, not Indian Army) switching sides.39
Initially, INA troops in the Arakan stayed loyal to the INA and their
IJA masters. However, as starvation and defeat began to take their toll,
loyalties began to waver, and two companies from the Bose Brigade
surrendered en masse to British forces in July 1944. By October 1944,
the INA and IJA in the Arakan were retreating back into southern and
central Burma, as the British counteroffensive truly took hold.40 The
INA’s efforts in the U-Go offensive in Assam (Imphal region) met with
a similar fate. The 1st INA Division41 was deployed as part of the

37
See comments from an INA ofﬁcer to Bose in C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies,
p. 374.
38
Note that these two cases occurred in the same battalion, during the unsuccessful
offensive in the Arakan. The lack of ability of the Indian Army to contend with the IJA
and the jungle at this point is well documented. See Chapter 2 and Marston, Phoenix, for
more detail. As with the units in the Malayan campaign of 1941/2, the battalion had been
heavily ‘milked’ and leadership may have been an issue. See C. A. Bayly and Harper,
Forgotten Armies, p. 274, for some discussion of the 1943 Arakan campaign and
discussions of the INA. Gajendra Singh noted that some of the men claimed to have
been duped by their VCOs; see his ‘Breaking the Chains’ for more details on the speciﬁc
interrogations of the soldiers involved. See also TOP, III, 7 May 1943, 690, pp. 951–2,
for more discussion of the 1/15th Punjab Regiment.
39
Various Indian Princely States, such as Hyderabad, Patiala, Mysore, Jaipur, and
Kashmir to name a few, raised and commanded their own military forces during the
period of the Raj. These forces were used for internal security operations within their
states. On occasion, such as the First and Second World Wars, various Indian State
Forces served overseas alongside the Indian Army. During the lead-up to partition, some
of the Indian State Forces were complicit in attacking the civilian populations inside and
outside the Punjab. Indian Army forces often engaged some of these forces in battle. For
a wider discussion see Gaylor, Sons of John Company, pp. 50–8. An outpost from the
Indian State Forces (not Indian Army), Gwalior Lancers, switched sides to the INA. See
Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, p. 43, and Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 517.
40
See Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, for more detail.
41
Many other INA units were used as lines of communication troops in both the Arakan
and Assam to support the IJA main effort.

offensive, but did not reach the front until April 1944, just as the
offensive started to grind to a halt. Some British commanders thought
that the INA had fought well in the Imphal, but it made little difference
to the eventual outcome. The IJA had underestimated the reform that
had taken place in the Fourteenth Army and they, along with their INA
allies, were slowly destroyed in and around the Imphal Plain.
One characteristic episode involved the 4/5th Mahratta Light Infantry
in a battle with the INA Nehru Brigade in July 1944. The Mahrattas were
able to patrol very close to the Nehru Brigade’s defensive positions, and
their fire discipline unnerved the INA troops. The INA had estimated
that only a platoon was attacking their position, and set out to induce the
Mahrattas to switch sides. They received no response. The Mahrattas,
meanwhile, had fully enveloped the INA positions and attacked, forcing
the INA to fall back and suffer a significant number of surrendered,
killed, and wounded along the way.42
The IJA began the general retreat from the Imphal fighting in August
1944, taking the 1st INA Division with it. The INA’s performance in the
IJA offensives of 1944 was not notably successful. Some 1,500 INA
troops deployed to the Arakan and another 7,500 to the U-Go offensive.
More than 2,000 men were killed or wounded, or died of starvation
during the campaigns.43 The 1st INA Division reached Mandalay by
September 1944, where Bose learned more details of both campaigns.
Bose felt that the INA had been misused and mistreated; he was vocal in
his opinions and his desire to improve conditions for the employment of
the INA.44 Despite his issues with the IJA, however, he persevered with
delivering his propaganda message: ‘neither the INA nor he was the least
disheartened: he would immediately set about preparing for another
attack on Imphal. If need be, he must attack Imphal ten times.’45
The IJA began to plan for the defence of Burma in October 1944, as
elements of the Fourteenth Army followed up their success in the Arakan
and Assam with an advance towards central Burma. As discussed in
Chapter 2, the IJA decided to defend the eastern bank of the Irrawaddy

42
See Tuker, Memory, Appendix II, pp. 555–7, for a fuller description. In the end, the
Fourteenth Army of 1944 and 1945 was a seasoned and professional force that in terms
of tactical abilities far overshadowed the INA.
43
Tuker stated that only 150 were killed and 1,500 died of starvation. He does say that, by
the end of 1945, more than 5,000 surrendered or deserted and 7,000 were captured
(Memory, p. 562). Mason provides different numbers for the ﬁghting on the Imphal
Plain: he claims more than 400 were killed, but not the 4,000 claimed by some Indian
journalists in the post-war period. See Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 517.
44
Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, pp. 49–50; see also India Command Weekly Intelligence
Summaries, 10 Nov. 1944, L/WS/1/1433, OIOC, BL.
45
Quoted in C. A. Bayly and Harper, Forgotten Armies, p. 393.

River, with their positions centred on Mandalay in the north and the
major railhead of Meiktila to the south. Bose sought an independent
sector of defence for the remainder of the INA units and formations,
along with better equipment and supplies, if not complete independ-
ence for the INA, under his sole command. The IJA did not react
favourably to these requests, responding that, with regard to supplies,
all that could be done would be, but not to expect much. IJA leadership
remained suspicious of the INA’s loyalty, following the desertions that
took place in the Ha-Go and U-Go operations. In the event, the IJA
allowed the INA to fall under Bose’s direct command for the short
term, and directed elements of the INA to take part in the defence of
the Irrawaddy.46
With the 2nd INA Division moved into positions along the Irrawaddy,
the Nehru Brigade, commanded by Col G. S. Dhillon, was detached to
support the IJA forces further south. Over the course of February 1945,
however, the autonomy that Bose thought he had won for the INA ceased
to exist as the 2nd INA Division and its units and formations were placed
under the command of the IJA 15th Division. On 14 February 1945,
leading elements of the 7th Indian Division crossed the Irrawaddy River,
smashing through the IJA and elements of the Nehru Brigade. Within
hours of the first assault, more than 250 INA troops laid down their
weapons.47 The Nehru Brigade and elements of the IJA counter-attacked
the 7th Indian Division’s beachhead, but were repulsed after heavy
fighting.
Caught alongside the IJA in Extended Capital, the Fourteenth Army’s
envelopment operation, the INA slowly disintegrated. By the end of
March, more than 2,000 INA troops had surrendered to the Fourteenth
Army.48 Brig. R. C. B. Bristow, who served as CO of the Dogra Machine
Gun Battalion during the fighting on the central plains of Burma
and drive to Rangoon, received word of the INA’s presence in the area
and wondered how his men would react. He noted that the ‘awkward
situation was happily resolved by the INA surrendering without a

46
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 797, and Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, pp. 51–2; see also Bulletin
174 and ALFSEA Weekly Letter, 48, WO 203/1194, NA.
47
Many of the Indian Army officers interviewed for this book as well as for my Phoenix
openly expressed their disdain for the INA when they encountered them in battle. They
also noted that their men expressed no sympathy at the time for the INA. Some officers
recalled having to restrain some of their men from summarily executing INA POWs:
author’s interviews with British and Indian officers, 1999–2009. See a fuller description
of some of this fighting and the apparent lack of will on the behalf of the INA in Tuker,
Memory, pp. 558–9. He details the surrender of some 200 INA to the 4/2nd Gurkha
Rifles from 20th Indian Division.
48
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 17.

fight’.49 IJA officers’ doubts about the INA’s loyalty and fighting spirit50
continued to grow,51 and Slim had to issue orders that Indian Army
soldiers were to take INA troops prisoner, not kill them out of hand. He
recalled that ‘our Indian and Gurkha troops were at times not too ready
to let them [INA] surrender and orders had to be issued to give them a
kinder welcome’.52 Bose flew to Tokyo from Saigon on 18 August,
following the initial Japanese surrender; his plane crashed and he was
assumed dead.53
INA troops captured in 1944 and 1945 were shipped back to India and
segregated. British and Indian authorities attempted to discover the
various reasons for their defections, and during the war the Indian Army
dealt with INA prisoners via standard military methods – namely courts
martial. By the end of the war, about thirty INA members had been tried;
of those, nine were executed for having carried out espionage or sabotage
missions.54 The ending of the war and the occupations of Burma,
Malaya, and Singapore significantly increased the flow of captured INA
troops back to India.

INA trials
During the summer months of 1945, the Indian Army conducted inter-
views with INA prisoners in Malaya, Burma, and India, and tried to
determine what should be done with them: how loyal were they to the

49
He also stated that he talked with some of the INA members who were Dogras. He
formed the impression that ‘they had been confused and subverted by a small group of
turncoat ICOs who, convinced the British would lose the war, had cast their lot with the
Japanese’ (Bristow, Memories, p. 134).
50
Japanese and British intelligence indicated that many officers below the level of battalion
command were not ‘true INA’, and that many sought to surrender as soon as possible.
A number of senior officers were viewed as loyal to Bose and his ideals. Within the first
month of fighting along the Irrawaddy, more than 1,000 INA members deserted to the
Fourteenth Army. Many of the deserters were former POWs and not the Indian civilians
who had been recruited.
51
Sundaram, ‘Paper Tiger’, p. 53.
52
Quoted in Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 518. See also SEAC Weekly Security
Intelligence Summary, no. 189, 15 Jun. 1945, L/WS/1/1506, OIOC, BL, which stated,
‘one unit in Rangoon reports that IORs [Indian other ranks] regard the INA as traitors
and would not hesitate to shoot them if so ordered’.
53
Debates continue regarding the mystery of Bose’s death. Even in 2006, there were many
who claimed that Bose did not die on the plane. See Sundaram, ‘Indian National Army’,
p. 142.
54
H. V. Hodson, Great Divide: Britain, India and Pakistan (London: Oxford University
Press, 1969), p. 249; Connell, Auchinleck, p. 797. See also TOP, III, 13 Oct. 1942, 91,
p. 127; 14 Oct. 1942, 94, pp. 129–30; and 24 Oct. 1942, 117, pp. 154–5, for a wider
discussion of the ‘sabotage’ and ‘espionage’ efforts and their lack of ability to cause
damage.

INA? Would they be able to rejoin the Indian Army? The CO of one of
the INA Guerrilla Regiments, in his interview, warned that many INA, if
returned to their regimental depots, would appear to be compliant, but
would continue to cause problems. He voiced what was many command-
ers’ greatest fear: ‘a rapid permeation of nationalism through the entire
Indian Army’. The report went on to state that such views ‘reflect
the mentality not only of some of the commanders but also of some of
the rank and file who have been so influenced’.55 A later report, dated 20
July 1945, reiterated this point. The officer reporting had spent time with
4,000 INA POWs; his finding was that ‘they have been thoroughly
imbued with Bose’s ideas and . . . it is doubtful if they can be rehabilitated
as soldiers again’.56
The Indian Army set out to separate and classify the prisoners for
potential prosecution, rehabilitation, dismissal, or re-entry into the
Indian Army. Senior staff decided fairly early on not to prosecute
the majority of the rank and file, but to focus on the leadership, both in
the INA and in the German-sponsored Free India Legion. Interrogation
centres carried out procedures to assess INA members’ loyalty and to
determine reasons why some POWs switched allegiance.
By early August 1945, the Indian Army established criteria for courts
martial. INA prisoners were to be assessed and designated as one of
three colours: black, grey, or white. These corresponded to the
following criteria: black meant that ‘they should be brought to trial for
a criminal offence, or [that] their release would be dangerous’. Grey
meant that they had been members of an enemy organisation and
subjected to enemy propaganda, and affected accordingly, but were
not considered to be fundamentally and incurably disloyal. White
meant that their loyalty was beyond question.57 The report which laid
out these criteria also specified that all INA officers would automatically
be labelled as ‘black’ and court-martialled. The initial estimate for
courts martial, based upon this assumption, was given as 600. The
report indicated that, for another 1,400 listed as ‘black’, carrying out
a trial would be difficult. More troubling was the figure of 5,600 given
for other INA personnel listed as ‘black’, for whom not enough evi-
dence was available to take a prosecution forward. These men were to
be dismissed from the army and detained under Ordinance IV of 1944;

55
SEAC Weekly Security Intelligence Summary, no. 189, 15 Jun. 1945, L/WS/1/1506,
OIOC, BL.
56
SEAC Weekly Security Intelligence Summary, no. 194, 20 Jul. 1945, L/WS/1/1506,
OIOC, BL.
57
TOP, VI, 17, 11 Aug. 1945, p. 49.

this recommendation sparked much debate within the GOI and the
Indian Army, as well as with HMG.58
INA members who were to be tried faced the prospect of execution or
deportation for life. Greys were to be dismissed from the army and
designated ‘services no longer required’. They would receive a pension
(excluding their time as POWs) and forty-two days’ pay. This was
considered necessary to accommodate the feelings of those still serving
in the army. Whites were to be treated as other recovered POWs, and
continue to serve in the army.59
As cases began to come to trial, the Indian National Congress began to
speak out in defence of INA prisoners, even though it had vocally
opposed both the INA’s narrative and methods during the war.60 The
Muslim League and the Punjab Unionists followed suit.61 By mid
September, Nehru was becoming increasingly vocal in his view that trials
of INA defendants should not move forward.
Indian Army officers challenged Nehru on his reversal. During a visit
to the 16th Cavalry in autumn 1945, one officer confronted Nehru,
pointing out that ‘when he was in Ahmednagar jail he had condemned
the activities of the INA but was now championing their cause and using
it for political purposes’.62 Wavell advised HMG that ‘Congress are
making great play in support of the INA, demanding their unconditional
release and sometimes lauding them as heroes.’63 In October, British
intelligence and GOI began to hear rumours (later confirmed in the
violence of 1946 and 1947) that former INA troops were being sought
by various political militias to serve as a military training force.64

58
See TOP, VI, 32, 33, 47, 60, Aug. 1945, pp. 75, 76, 107, 142–3, for more on the debates
that began to erupt regarding the ability to hold more than 6,000 men in detention
without trial.
59
TOP, VI, 11 Aug. 1945, 17, pp. 50–1. See also Wavell’s entry in his diary, Moon, ed.,
Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, for 6 Aug. 1945, pp. 161–2.
60
See Gordon, Brothers Against the Raj, pp. 551–2; Nehru was quoted in 1943 as stating
that he would go to the front to ﬁght Bose and the Japanese if they invaded.
61
Tuker, Memory, pp. 62–3, and Cohen, ‘Subhas Chandra Bose’, p. 421.
62
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 19. The 16th Cavalry was a pre-war Indianised regiment that did
well during the war and continued to perform well in French Indo-China as part of the
20th Indian Division. See Chapter 4 for more details.
63
TOP, VI, 127, 1 Oct. 1945, p. 305.
64
TOP, VI, 135, 9 Oct. 1945, pp. 319–20, which discusses Nehru’s plan to make use of the
INA – large quantities of arms are said to have been smuggled into India from the Burma
front – both to train Congress volunteers and as a Congress striking force; and also
possibly to tamper with the Indian Army. Nehru is said to have had conversations about
the use of the INA for subversive purposes (ibid., p. 319). See also Wavell to Pethick-
Lawrence, 6 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 194, p. 452, as well as Hamid’s discussion of the
Congress Volunteer Corps and Sikhs seeking the support of released INA prisoners in
Disastrous, p. 20.

Many Indian Army POWs were perplexed by Congress’s sudden

support for the INA. One returned officer reported to the viceroy how
‘he and others had been shocked on their return to India to find that men
of the INA were in some political quarters acclaimed as national heroes
while the POWs who had stuck it out were completely disregarded’.65
Congress’s political U-turn also presented Gen. Auchinleck and the
Indian Army with a major dilemma. Negative feeling in the army and
among returning POWs about the INA demanded quick and decisive
action towards those members designated as ‘black’. Doing so, however,
against the wishes of Congress was likely to create a political firestorm –
one that would be played out in India, where the majority of the popula-
tion felt little connection to the army and the ideals for which they
purported to stand. The new secretary of state for India and Burma,
Lord Pethick-Lawrence, began to ask pointed questions about how many
death sentences were likely to be carried out; under what circumstances;
and when clemency might be considered.66 Wavell and Auchinleck,
sensitive to the political situation and being put under pressure,
responded by restricting still further the number of courts martial
planned, and narrowing the circumstances under which the death pen-
alty could be applied,67 although they knew this would be badly received
by Indian Army personnel.68
Congress formed the Office of the INA Defence Committee on 22
September 1945 and formally announced the defence team for the first
courts martial on 15 October 1945. At this time, they also petitioned the
viceroy to postpone or abandon the trials.69 Some of the defence team’s
members – Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, Jawaharlal Nehru, Shri Bhulabhai
Desai, Dr K. N. Katju,70 and Rai Bahadur Badri Das – were considered
among the best legal minds in India.71

65
TOP, VI, 135, 9 Oct. 1945, p. 322; see also Jenkins to Turnbull, 23 Oct. 1945, TOP, VI,
160, pp. 386–7, for details of an Indian Army Indian officer (Capt. Badhwar, a former
POW) meeting with a member of Congress to tell him about the ‘truth’ of the INA and
their brutality.
66
Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 29 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/1577, OIOC, BL. With the change
of government in the UK, under the leadership of the Labour Party, Lord Pethick-
Lawrence took over from Leo Amery on 3 August 1945.
67
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 2 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1577, OIOC, BL.
68
One officer, Col Malik, did report on 29 November 1945 that there was widespread
sympathy for some of the INA, within the IORs and some within the ICO ranks. See Box
6/16, Gen. Sir Richard O’Connor Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL.
69
TOP, VI, 143, 15 Oct. 1945, pp. 341–4.
70
His son had been killed fighting the Japanese in 1943: Connell, Auchinleck, p. 800.
71
See TOP, VI, 143, 15 Oct. 1945, pp. 341–4, for a detailed submission of the position of
the INA Defence Committee and their opening claims regarding the position of the INA
and the specific defendants.

The first trials were set for early November, and the first officers tried
were Capt. Shah Nawaz;72 Capt. P. K. Saghal of the 2/10th Baluch
Regiment, who commanded one of the battalions in Nawaz’s division;
as did the final defendant, Lt G. S. Dhillon, of the 1/14th Punjab
Regiment. These three men represented the three major religions of
India: Hindu (Shagal), Muslim (Shaz), and Sikh (Dhillon). They were
all charged with murder; with abetment of murder; and with waging war
against the king-emperor.73 Gen. Auchinleck received word that the
three defendants had entrusted their defence to the INA Defence
Committee, and the trial was scheduled to begin at the Red Fort on 5
November.74
Gen. Auchinleck had decided to hold the INA courts martial at the
Red Fort in Delhi. His primary motivation in doing so was to confront
the problem in an open forum, instead of holding trials in various
cantonments or less public arenas and opening the Indian Army to
charges of trying to conclude the business in secrecy. The Red Fort
was also chosen partly for practical reasons: the three defendants were
being held there; GHQ India was not far away; and the fort itself was a
symbol of India’s greatness. The main drawback to this location was that
it placed the trials in the full glare of public and media scrutiny; symbol-
ically, the Red Fort also raised unhappy imperial associations as the
home of the last Moghul emperors. As things turned out, it was a
decision that backfired badly for the Indian Army.75
At the start of the trials, the effect of the INA situation on the army as
a whole was quite minimal, especially in the ‘frontline’ or veteran units
that had recently been involved in the campaigns in Burma and Italy.
A morale report in October 1945 specifically reported on reactions from
jawans and others to discussions about the INA that were occurring
outside the army. The report indicated that ‘the sudden collapse of
Japan came as a surprise for Indian troops. They were enthusiastic
and greatly enjoyed the glory of being part of the victorious forces . . .
Politics are affecting the Army more closely than ever before, though so
far there is no evidence to show that the Army as a whole is taking an
interest in politics . . . So far reports indicate that large numbers of

72
He was from the 1/14th Punjab Regiment and was a pre-war ICO, winner of the Sword
of Honour at IMA Dehra Dun. He was made a major general by the Japanese and
commanded an INA Division in 1945.
73
Hodson, Great Divide, p. 251; Connell, Auchinleck, p. 801; and Gordon, Brothers Against
the Raj, p. 552.
74
Auchinleck to Sir Evan Jenkins, 20 Oct. 1945, No. 1108, Auchinleck Papers, University
of Manchester.
75
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 800, and Hamid, Disastrous, p. 17.

Sepoys are indifferent to the fate of the INA.’76 Later reports would
indicate a more complex response.77
Within days of the trials starting, the Indian media and much of the
population were following the trials closely and, it appeared, were
increasingly vocally supportive of the INA defendants.78 Even more
troubling for the GOI and the Indian Army was the manner in which
Congress began to link the INA trials with the Quit India movement of
1942, and discussions of trials for people who took part in the suppres-
sion of Quit India in a future independent India. Congress leaders were
making claims that the ‘British could be turned out of India within a
short time . . . threatening the officials who took part in the suppression of
the 1942 disturbances with trial and punishment as “war criminals”’.79
Auchinleck sent one of his senior Indian officers, Col K. S. Himat-
sinhji, to meet with one of the defence counsels, Desai, to discuss the
ongoing trials. The report to Auchinleck was extremely telling: Desai
candidly confirmed that ‘the INA trials have given them the best weapon
they ever had for their propaganda and that, if any of these are executed,
it will only make them the greatest martyrs India has ever had’.80 When
Himatsinhji asked Desai, ‘how are you going to reconcile those prisoners
of war and other Indian soldiers who had suffered and fought not only
the Japs but the INA and who demand the guilty INA personnel must be
tried?’, Desai replied, dismissively, that anyone who expressed this senti-
ment had been ‘tutored’ to say so.81
This last response shows how little the Indian National Congress really
understood the culture of the Indian Army. Desai also demonstrated his
lack of awareness about the INA’s battlefield performance, when he
reported to the colonel that the INA had nearly succeeded in capturing
Kohima in 1944.82

76 77
31 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL. See below for later reports.
78
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 7 Nov., TOP, VI, 190: ‘The General Court Martial of the
three INA officers has been adjourned for a fortnight after a two-day hearing . . . The
proceedings seem to have been dignified and so far the defence counsel have been content
to behave quietly. The trial is being given a great deal of attention in the Press and indeed
the local Congress paper the Hindustan Times contains little else’ (p. 447). Wavell would
add in a letter on 13 November 1945, ‘the adjournment of the first trial for a fortnight has
not led to any slackening in the stream of propaganda poured forth by the Nationalist press
in favour of the INA’: Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 13 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 208, p. 476.
79
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 6 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 194, p. 451.
80
Letter from Col K. S. Himatsinhji to Auchinleck, 19 Nov. 1945, No. 1113, Auchinleck
Papers, University of Manchester.
81
Ibid.
82
Ibid. See also No. 1114, a letter from Maj. C. M. Cockin, stating that the problem of the
INA should be ignored until a new national government had been formed in India,
noting the growing tension between British and Indian views on the subject.

In late November, Auchinleck called for a meeting of his senior

military commanders at GHQ India in New Delhi. He wanted to assess
the impact of the ongoing trials on the morale of the Indian Army, as well
as on popular opinion generally, and to determine what should be done
about INA trials that were still to come. Opinion on all of these matters
was deeply divided among those attending the meetings; after they were
over, Auchinleck received several letters from ofﬁcers who had attended,
and who felt that it was necessary for the trials to continue. One letter,
written by Gen. Sir Richard O’Connor to Gen. Auchinleck, highlighted
this dilemma: ‘if there is sympathy for them in the Army, which I still
doubt, then it is because we have allowed these arguments to be used
without any sort of reply . . . How can we expect to keep loyalty if we
don’t condemn disloyalty.’83 Lt Gen. Geoffrey Scoones also sent a note,
reiterating many of the same points, including intelligence reports that
the Indian Army, so far, appeared not to have been affected. He also
highlighted that, while he understood that Auchinleck was in a most
difﬁcult position, ‘any leniency (call it what you will) will not attain our
immediate objective’.84
On 19 and 20 November, Auchinleck met with members of the
provincial leadership regarding growing political tensions and agitation
among the Indian population. Violent protests in support of the INA
had erupted in Madras, Delhi, Lahore, and Bombay; Calcutta had a
general strike from 21 to 26 November, and several hundred were killed
or wounded.85 Representatives from the Punjab expressed their fears
that they were facing civil unrest worse than the incidents of 1942, and
requested that there be no further trials, except in cases of murder and
atrocities.86 They also asked Auchinleck to commute any death sen-
tences. Auchinleck eventually conceded and agreed to limit the number
of trials, in an effort to calm the unrest spreading throughout the
countryside. He also agreed that every effort should be made to speed
up the trials.87 Auchinleck reiterated this position to Wavell two days
later in a follow-up letter, contending that the more lenient course of
action was best, even though he knew that many army commanders
would disagree, believing that this course would be detrimental to the

83
O’Connor to Auchinleck, 24 Nov. 1945, No. 1118, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.
84
Lt Gen. Geoffrey Scoones to Auchinleck, 24 Nov. 1945, No. 1117, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
85
Lebra, Jungle Alliance, p. 208.
86
See Auchinleck to Wavell, 24 Nov. 1945, Enclosure 2, TOP, VI, 233, pp. 530–6, for
more details of the Punjab’s response.
87
Auchinleck to Wavell, 24 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 233, p. 536.

army’s morale.88 A letter from Sir George Cunningham (governor of

the North-West Frontier) to Wavell on 29 November further illustrates
the divide between the senior political and military leadership that
Auchinleck had to contend with. Cunningham stated: ‘Some Army
officers of great experience with whom I have discussed the matter . . .
have said that leniency at this stage would have a disastrous effect on the
army. I do not believe this to be true. Some Indian officers and soldiers,
whose relations or close friends have suffered under the INA leaders,
are no doubt thirsting for their blood.89 But I am certain that they are
comparatively few . . . [T]he thing is daily becoming more and more
purely Indian versus British . . . [T]he only way of stopping the rot is by
a clean cut, at once.’90 Another governor, Sir H. Twyman, of the
Central Provinces and Berar, discussing Congress’s efforts to drum up
support for the INA in the countryside, wrote, ‘I do feel some uneasi-
ness as to the attitude which Indian troops may adopt if called upon to
fire on mobs.’91 He also notes, later in the report, that one of the
Special Branch officers had reported that sympathy for the INA was
not widespread among Indian Army jawans, NCOs, VCOs, and offi-
cers, and that the closer to the war the men served, the less sympathy
was to be found.92
This last point, in particular, is one that would be made repeatedly in
the coming two years: that the support and steadfastness of the Indian
Army tended to come from the ‘veteran’ and frontline forces – those who
had fought and died alongside one another in the Second World War.
Gen. Tuker, from Eastern Command, one of most outspoken critics of
any possible leniency with the INA, stated that ‘The Statesman, India’s
influential English daily newspaper, said that the weak and inept hand-
ling of the INA by our Army Headquarters would do incalculable harm

88
Auchinleck to Wavell, 26 Nov. 1945, No. 1119, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. He also went on in detail, ‘I do not think any senior British ofﬁcer today
knows what is the real feeling among the Indian ranks regarding the INA. I myself feel,
from my own instinct largely, but also from various sources, that there is a growing
feeling of sympathy for the INA . . . In spite of the advice of these Army commanders and
the Adjutant-General, three of whom are Indian ofﬁcers of long standing and great
experience of Indian troops, I am still convinced that the course I have recommended to
you is the safest and best.’
89
This point was raised by Wavell in a letter to Lord Pethick-Lawrence on 1 October 1945:
‘two battalions of Gurkhas who have been returned from Prisoner of War camps in
Malaya are far more bitter about the INA than about the Japs . . . [T]heir one request to
me was to see that stern justice was dealt out to the INA’ (TOP, VI, 127, 1 Oct. 1945,
pp. 305–6).
90
Cunningham to Wavell, 27 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 243, p. 546.
91
Sir H. Twyman to Wavell, 26 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 239, p. 542.
92
Ibid., pp. 542–3.

to the Indian Army . . . I have said that all British officers, a large number
of nationalist Indians, even men of the Congress Party who were not
withered by hatred . . . expected that the Army would vindicate itself by
laying on thick and fast the punishment of the officers of the INA.’93
Tuker reported that many within Eastern Command, from the jawans to
the officers, condemned the activities of the INA and hoped for a tough
prosecution. He even went so far as to point out what he saw as a growing
disconnect between senior leadership and officers at the regimental level
in the matter of leniency.94
On 27 November, Wavell reported some ominous observations to
Lord Pethick-Lawrence. The first one, reported a month earlier, was
that propaganda posters had been found, openly threatening that if INA
officers were executed, ‘twenty English dogs’ would die. The second
confirmed earlier reports of released INA being recruited as ‘trainers’
for various political militias, preparing for the possibility of violent guer-
rilla campaigns in the near future. He went on to declare that, as a result
of misperceptions in the media regarding the INA’s motives, actions, and
apparently widespread support, the trials had become ‘a threat to the
morale of the Indian Army’.95 This view prompted Auchinleck to go
even further with clemency, in an attempt to avoid more bad press and
defuse rising tensions.96 Wavell concurred with this course of action in a
letter to Sir George Cunningham, confirming that no additional trials
would be held, unless the accused was charged with committing ‘gross
brutality’ against any member of the Indian or British Army.97 But the
Red Fort trials, already under way, would continue.
At the end of November, Auchinleck presented an in-depth assess-
ment of the internal situation in India for the Chiefs of Staff Committee.
In this report, he was quite candid about the impact of the INA, men-
tioning early on, for example, the number of weapons lying about in
India following the war and his fear that ex-INA members would be able

93
Tuker, Memory, pp. 58–9. Tuker spends quite a bit of time presenting the argument that
the army command did not do enough to create a counter-narrative to the INA, to
criticise their inept battlefield performance, or to speak plainly about the brutalities that
INA troops meted out to fellow Indian Army POWs: ‘ . . . our army did little to correct
impressions’ (ibid., p. 61).
94
Ibid., pp. 67–70.
95
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 27 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 246, p. 554. This sentiment was
reported by a journalist, Shiva Rao, in a letter to the Board of Trade, which was
submitted to the cabinet in the UK. It openly stated, ‘Even men in the army are being
influenced by the trial.’ He also added, ‘I am more than ever convinced that this trial is a
first class blunder’ (28 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 248, p. 564).
96
See Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 29 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 251, p. 566.
97
Wavell to Sir G. Cunningham, 30 Nov. 1945, TOP, VI, 253, p. 573.

and willing to use them. (In fairness, he also cited demobilised Indian
Army soldiers as a potential concern, fearing that they might also be
influenced by Congress to take up arms.) He compared and contrasted
the situation in 1945 with that during the Quit India movement of 1942,
and concluded that a co-ordinated campaign in the post-war era would
be far more dangerous, mainly because of the presence of large numbers
of demobbed soldiers who, trained to disrupt and cause havoc in war,
could cause great damage used as a political militia.98
Auchinleck also considered the loyalty of the Indian Army in some
depth, and in the context of the ongoing INA trials. He asserted that,
at present (November 1945), the Indian Army ‘was capable of dealing
with either communal or anti-Government disturbances and failures
on their part to perform their duty would probably be few and isol-
ated’.99 However, he expressed doubt about the future, and stated
bluntly that it was impossible to know what might happen in the next
six months. He cited Congress’s pro-INA campaign and indicated his
certainty that it must have an impact on the Indian Army. He feared
that Congress would keep up the pressure, especially in light of the
Indian Army’s continuing deployment in French Indo-China and the
Netherlands East Indies,100 and classified the debates raised by
Congress regarding these deployments as potentially more explosive
than the INA trials.101
Looking to the future, Auchinleck raised another issue that he antici-
pated causing problems in the coming months. Many British officers who
had served in the Indian Army, both before and during the war, were
being released as the army was drawn down.102 Many of these experi-
enced officers were being replaced by newly created ICOs who were
unknown to the men in the regiments and battalions. Many of the
veteran officers had proved themselves in battle, but the new ICOs had
not, and Auchinleck feared they would not be able to command the
necessary respect and authority to rein in their men if difficult situations
arose. Auchinleck made it very clear that the future stability of the
country was reliant upon professional and stable Indian Armed Forces;
if this could not be maintained, widespread and uncontained violence

98
‘Internal Situation in India, Appreciation by the Commander in Chief ’, 24 Nov. 1945,
L/WS/1/1008, OIOC, BL.
99
Ibid.
100
See Chapter 4 for more discussion of these deployments.
101
This was a highly contentious issue and will be dealt with in more detail in Chapter 4.
102
Many ofﬁcers were leaving due to the drawdown and the fact that there appeared to be
no future for British ofﬁcers in the Indian Army. See Chapter 6 for a more detailed
discussion of the drawdown.

might be the result. He bluntly suggested that one way this could be done
would be a firm and explicit declaration by HMG to the effect that, while
they maintain their intention to grant self-government to India by consti-
tutional methods, (i) any armed insurrection would be put down, by
force if necessary and the leaders punished; (ii) government servants
would be supported to the full; and (iii) police and troops acting in the
execution of their duty would be protected at the time and thereafter.103
Following submission of this assessment, Auchinleck released a press
communiqué on 1 December 1945, outlining the GOI and Indian
Army’s plans for INA officers and soldiers. This indicated that many
INA members designated as ‘black’ were going to be released because
they had not carried out ‘brutal attacks’ against fellow POWs or Indian
Army troops. The communiqué did not state any specific numbers, but it
was clear that numbers awaiting trial had dropped dramatically.104
The release of this communiqué, in conjunction with a counter-
propaganda campaign, started to quiet things down.105 Wavell was able
to report favourable results through the last weeks of December; on the
20th he wrote that: ‘We are taking active measures regarding units
[propaganda in villages to praise serving soldiers and exploits of the
Indian Army]. If we can get the feeling right in the units the man going
on leave will constitute the best propaganda instrument in the village . . .
INA agitation in the press is on the decrease and there are signs that
Congress do not wish to intensify it.’106 He was not entirely confident,
however, as indicated by a letter that he wrote to King George VI around
the same time: ‘interest in the INA trials, which might well cause such an
explosion, has for the time being died down . . . [A]s soon as the first
verdicts and sentences are given in the next few days, the whole weight of

103
‘Internal Situation in India, Appreciation by the Commander in Chief ’, 24 Nov. 1945,
L/WS/1/1008, OIOC, BL. Prime Minister Clement Attlee agreed with this assessment
and stated that the loyalty of the army was key. He asserted that the Army would receive
the full support of HMG, and emphasised the need to spread the word of the ‘deeds’ of
the Indian Army during the war as a counter-narrative. See Attlee to Pethick-Lawrence,
6 Dec. 1945, TOP, VI, 271, p. 616.
104
Governor-General to Sec. of State, 2 Dec. 1945, TOP, VI, 258, pp. 586–7. The GOI
received intelligence regarding the numbers of people detained without trial within the
INA and how much strain it was causing among many moderate Indians within India.
The press communiqué helped deal with this constant issue and irritant. See letter from
Mr G. D. Birla, TOP, VI, 270, pp. 612–14.
105
There had been discussions in both New Delhi and London to counteract the Congress
INA propaganda. The main theme was the use of POWs who stood ﬁrm against the IJA
and INA: to have these men return to villages and allow them to tell their stories. This
started to have an impact; see Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 15 Jan. 1945, TOP, VI, 357,
p. 797.
106
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 20 Dec. 1945, TOP, VI, 300, p. 665.

the Nationalist Press will again be directed towards securing their release
or at least the commutation of their sentences.’107
The first trial ended on 31 December 1945, and the verdict was
released on 1 January 1946. All three officers were found guilty of waging
war against the king; but only Shah Nawaz was found guilty of abetment
of murder. All three were sentenced to transportation for life and cash-
iering and forfeiture of pay and allowances for time served with the INA.
Auchinleck commuted the sentence of transportation for life, citing the
following rationale: ‘I believe that to confirm the sentence of transporta-
tion on these two officers would have the effect of making them into
martyrs and of intensifying the political campaign of bitterness and racial
antipathy now being waged by Congress.’108 Auchinleck felt that if the
sentences were carried out, violence would ensue and put the loyalty of
the Indian Army to an excruciating test. Auchinleck’s decision caused
dissension among Indian Army officers, even as he was being com-
mended by senior Indian civilians.109 Philip Mason, a noted author as
well as an Indian civil servant,110 asserted that Auchinleck’s decision
demanded great courage, but noted that, in the end, ‘the trial and its
outcome [were] seen as a defeat for Britain’.111
Lt Gen. Tuker, GOC Eastern Command, was outraged by Gen.
Auchinleck’s actions. As he himself recalled: ‘Very soon the Press came
out with the announcement that the army had decided to deal leniently
with the INA offenders. While accepting that many were but sheep, the
British officers, now getting first hand tales of the brutal treatment of
loyal officers and men at the hands of some of the blackguards of the
INA, became more incensed than ever and more out of sympathy with
the higher military authorities . . . [T]he Army took it upon itself to
commute, reduce or set aside the sentences and thus, to the scandal of
its officers, condone the offences. The courts martial had done their duty

107
Wavell to HM King George VI, 31 Dec. 1945, TOP, VI, 322, p. 714. See also letter
from Sir Bertrand Glancy, Governor of the Punjab, to Auchinleck, 29 Dec. 1945, No.
1125, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, stating that, while there was some
sympathy for the INA, the counter-argument of returned POWs was starting to have a
positive impact as well.
108
Report by Auchinleck on the ﬁrst INA trial, 1 Jan. 1945, No. 1127, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
109
See letters from Dr M. C. Dawar to Auchinleck, 3 Jan. 1946, No. 1128, and Sir Shanti
Swarupa Bhatnagar to Auchinleck, 4 Jan. 1946, No. 1129, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
110
He served during the Second World War as the deputy secretary in the Defence and
War Department, secretary to the Chiefs of Staff Committee, and ﬁnally as joint
secretary to the War Department in the post-war period. See Mason’s very interesting
account of serving in the ICS, A Shaft of Sunlight.
111
Mason, A Matter of Honour, p. 522.

and imposed heavy penalties; the Army had no business to meddle with
what should have been a political compromise. The sentences should
have been confirmed, thus upholding the standards of loyalty of the
Indian Army. If the Viceroy had thought fit to intervene and to direct
that leniency should be shown, that was another matter.’112 The logic of
Tuker’s argument does carry weight, and his views on the matter were
echoed by many officers during interviews with retired Indian Army
officers, as well as in a number of contemporary morale and intelligence
reports.113
Examining intelligence and morale reports for January 1946 provides
some interesting insights into what was being said at the time from
various perspectives. These contradict Auchinleck’s views to a certain
extent, without completely supporting Tuker’s. One report provides a
good example: it stated that morale was very high at the moment of
writing, attributing this to the army’s still-recent victories and stating
that the troops were rightly proud of their efforts in defeating the Italians,
Germans, and Japanese. Discipline was reported as being quite high, and
in one place the report specifically stated that the jawans had little interest
in politics. It goes on to discuss the INA, indicating that while there was
some sympathy generally speaking, there was none for INA members
who had been accused and found guilty of crimes against fellow Indian
soldiers. The report concludes with the finding that ‘there is no indica-
tion that Congress propaganda is having any marked effects, and all
commanders insist that the trials are having no adverse effect on
morale’.114
Intelligence reports for the month of January supported the comments
stated in the morale reports. The report for 4 January 1946 indicated little
interest in the trials expressed by the Indian other ranks (IORs), and that
they were carrying out their duties as always.115 The report for 18 January
says much the same: ‘first impressions regarding the first trials are that
they have had little effect on the opinion of the bulk of the rank and file
and may have if anything encouraged a slight decline in interest’.116 The
report went on to describe a difference of opinion between British and
Indian officers: indicating that the Indian officers had no quarrel with
how INA personnel were being handled, while British officers were
surprised by what they considered as condoning this lack of loyalty.

112
Tuker, Memory, pp. 67–8.
113
Author’s interviews with Indian Army ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.
114
31 Jan. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL.
115
4 Jan. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
116
18 Jan. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.

The interesting side-note in this report concerned the VCOs, stating

that, while British and Indian commissioned ofﬁcers were willing to
express and debate their views on the INA question, VCOs were reluc-
tant to discuss the matter.117 Overall, the reports were mixed; but they
did not conform to Auchinleck’s point of view that the situation was dire.
Following receipt of the reports for January 1946, Auchinleck made
another controversial announcement. With three INA trials in progress
and more about to commence,118 he proposed ‘to drop the charge of
waging war against the King-Emperor and to include only charges of
murder and brutality’.119 He felt that some of those accused of waging
war against the king-emperor were likely to be found not guilty, and that
this verdict would overshadow the more serious charges of murder and
brutality.
Wavell concurred with Auchinleck’s decision,120 and both Auchinleck
and Wavell had immediate concerns regarding the trials that had already
begun. On 10 February 1946, as Capt. Abdul Rashid was called to
the court, student demonstrations began in earnest in Calcutta.121 The
Indian Army was called out to suppress the demonstrations and some
students were killed. Interestingly, Congress distanced themselves from
these demonstrations, although they were supported by the Communist
Party of India.122
Although the student demonstrations were dealt with swiftly, Auchin-
leck began to feel more and more pressured about the INA trials, their
outcomes, his commutation of sentences, and their apparent impact
on the Indian Army. As a result, he decided to send out questionnaires
throughout the army to assess feeling about the INA. The ﬁndings were
thought-provoking. Auchinleck asked formation commanders for their
views of the INA trials, as well as potential issues within the army. He
also sent questionnaires to KCIOs and ICOs, asking for their views of the

117
Ibid.
118
Capt. Mohammed Burhanuddin, 2/10th Baluch, was being tried for waging war against
the king-emperor and murder: Connell, Auchinleck, p. 813.
119
Auchinleck to Wavell, 22 Jan. 1946, No. 1133, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.
120
Wavell to Auchinleck, 23 Jan. 1946, No. 1134, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.
121
There had been earlier student demonstrations in November 1945, as the INA trials
commenced. At the same time, Capt. Burhanuddin’s trial began. He was also found
guilty of brutality, and sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment. See letter from
Auchinleck to Wavell, 19 Feb. 1946, No. 1139, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. Wavell agreed to the sentence, even if it potentially carried a risk of
more civil unrest. See Wavell to Auchinleck, 20 Feb. 1946, No. 1140, Auchinleck
Papers, University of Manchester.
122
Gordon, Brothers Against the Raj, p. 555.

INA trials.123 On 12 February, Auchinleck wrote a memorandum, based

upon the findings of the questionnaires and the views of senior officers,
discussing the effects of the first INA trials ‘on the Indian Army as a
whole’. He summed up the Indian officers’ points of view as follows:
‘most admit the gravity of the offence and do not condone it, but
practically all are sure that any attempt to enforce the sentence would
have led to chaos in the country at large and probably to mutiny and
dissension in the Army, culminating in its dissolution, probably on
communal lines’.124
Interestingly, not all ICOs agreed with these findings, including one of
Gen. Auchinleck’s own aides. Lt Col (later Maj. Gen.) S. S. Hamid
responded to Auchinleck, in part, that ‘the ICOs feel that the three
INA officers have been let off very lightly and the authorities have been
bowed down to the politicians. This has had an adverse effect on their
morale and they do not see much future in the Army.’125
Auchinleck also discussed the effects on the VCOs and rank and file of
the army; here too he concluded that it did not affect many, especially
within the infantry and combat arms, but that it had caused some issues
in the support branches. Overall, he indicated that the majority within the
ranks agreed with the decision to be lenient and that the issue should
now be over. His findings clearly indicated that most of the criticism of
the handling of the INA trials originated with the British officers of the
Indian Army. As he concluded: ‘the effect on many British officers has
been bad, and has led to public criticism which has not been in accord-
ance with the traditional loyalty I am entitled to expect. To these officers,
perhaps not always perceptive or imaginative, an officer is an officer,
whether he be Indian or British, and they make no allowance for birth or
political aspirations or upbringing, nor do they begin to realise the great
political stresses and strains now affecting this country. They are unable
to differentiate between the British and Indian points of view.’126

123
See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 20.
124
Letter addressed by Auchinleck to army commanders, 12 Feb. 1946, No. 1137,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
125
Maj. Gen. Hamid added more detail in his answers to the questionnaire. He speciﬁcally
stated: ‘The general feeling among ICOs is that the trial has been given undue publicity
and should not have been held in Delhi, and for that reason, not even in India. After the
original mistake of holding the trial in Delhi had been committed and public opinion
aroused against it, the authorities should not have yielded to press or party propaganda
but should have punished the accused according to existing laws, which would have
shown that discipline in the Army is not subject to public opinion.’ He goes on into
more detail regarding the pressure he saw upon Auchinleck to commute the sentences.
See Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 21–2, for more details.
126
Letter addressed by Auchinleck to army commanders, 12 Feb. 1946, No. 1137,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.

Auchinleck followed this with a discussion of the state of the army in

1941, focusing on some of the pre-war problems resulting from Indian-
isation. As he stated in the memorandum: ‘Moreover, they forgot, if they
ever knew, the great bitterness bred in the minds of many Indian officers
in the early days of Indianisation by the discrimination, often very real,
exercised against them, and the discourteous, contemptuous treatment
often meted out to them by many British officers who should have known
better.’127
Auchinleck concluded by stating bluntly that he commuted the sen-
tences to support a larger goal: a viable, functional, and professional
Indian Army, ‘for the future, whatever Government may be set up in
India. This can only be done if the British and Indian officers of that
Army trust and respect each other and continue to work wholeheartedly
together for the common cause as they have done in war.’128
No sooner had Auchinleck sent this memo than an Indian officer, Col
K. S. Himatsinhji, reported on 17 February that the mood in most of the
country was anti-British, and that Congress and the Muslim League were
in agreement on the INA issue – one of the few things that the two parties
could agree on at the time, amid tensions surrounding upcoming
elections for an interim government and the debates on the possibility
of an independent Muslim state.129

Royal Indian Navy mutiny

While the Indian Army struggled with how best to handle the INA trials,
other branches of the military were encountering their own problems. In
January 1946, the Royal Air Force (RAF) airmen stationed at Royal
Indian Air Force (RIAF) bases in India and the Middle East demanded
early demobilisation and better pay, and followed this with wilful dis-
obedience of orders. This mutiny was peaceful and dealt with swiftly.
Some members of the RIAF decided to follow their British counterparts’
example, but their efforts were quashed almost immediately.130 Some
senior British ofﬁcers, notably Gen. Tuker131 of Eastern Command,

127 128
Ibid. Ibid.
129
Col K. S. Himatsinhji to Auchinleck, 17 Feb. 1946, No. 1138, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
130
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 23.
131
Auchinleck’s military secretary, Hamid, made an entry in his diary regarding Tuker. On
28 March 1945, he met Tuker and described him as follows: ‘Tuker is the most
outstanding officer I have ever met. He is a fighting soldier as well as a great
strategist, and is completely relaxed in a difficult situation. He is a great friend of
Wavell, with whom he shares a love for poetry. He even attends Urdu Mushairas
[recitations of poetry]’ (Disastrous, pp. 46–7).

contended that at least some of the disobedience was the result of the soft
sentences handed down in the first INA trials, pointing out that ‘it was
certainly used by the mutineers as a precedent for their conduct’.132
(He also claimed that the RIAF actually declared their sympathy with
the INA.)133 Both mutinies were put down by British and Indian Army
units, without any bloodshed. The next problem to flare up came from
an Indian Pioneer unit in early February, near the Royal Indian Navy
(RIN) depot in Calcutta. This was also handled swiftly, as was a second
disturbance at the Signal Training Centre at Jubbulpore.134
These mutinies were dealt with quickly, the ringleaders were caught
and tried swiftly, and the press appeared to be unaware of the situation.
There were claims that Congress was behind at least some of these
actions.135 Some army officers also believed that since the units involved
were not veteran or frontline forces, they were more susceptible to such
problems.
The next major issue to arise originated in the Royal Indian Navy
(RIN), not for the first time; the RIN had already suffered nine mutinies
between 1942 and 1945.136 The unrest began at the signal school HMIS
Talwar in Bombay where, on 8 February, several sailors were court-
martialled for insubordination. More alarming was the slogans that
began to appear around the school, including ‘Quit India’, ‘Kill the
British White Bastards’, and ‘Revolt Now’.137 By 17 February, many
ratings from HMIS Talwar were refusing to touch food or go on parade;
by the 18th, ratings from HMIS Sutlej and Jumna as well as ratings from
the Castle and Fort Barracks in Bombay were following suit. Flag
marches were established and the agitators threatened to take their
mutiny off the naval base. The leadership of the mutiny brought out a
list of demands, including the release of all INA prisoners. Gen. Sir Rob
Lockhart, commander of Southern Command, was put in charge of
putting down the mutiny. At first, a battalion from the 5th Mahratta

132 133
Tuker, Memory, pp. 80–1. Ibid., p. 84.
134
Ibid., pp. 80–98, and author’s correspondence with Maj. G. E. Mitchell, Royal Indian
Army Service Corps.
135
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 24.
136
Hamid goes into greater detail highlighting the major issues that existed in the RIN
during the war period and the immediate post-war period. One of the key issues that
Hamid cites was the issue of leadership, especially in terms of mid-level officers and
below. See Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 24–5, for more detail. See also Wavell to Attlee,
TOP, VI, 466, p. 1055: ‘RIN has not the same background as army, proportion of
experienced officers and petty officers is very small owing to the rapid expansion during
the war, and [a] number of young and excitable men have been worked on by agitators
from inside and outside. There may have been service grievances but I do not think they
are serious.’
137
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 25.

Light Infantry, supported by British forces, was sent into Bombay to eject
any sailors who had entered the city and push them back into their
barracks. At first the Indian and British infantry and Royal Marines were
able to round up troublemakers without much difficulty, and the Indian
Army performed its task with professionalism.138
At the same time as events in Bombay, RIN personnel in Karachi
began their own mutiny. Ratings from HMIS Hindustan opened fire
upon army troops on shore in Karachi, but were rapidly silenced by
Indian Army artillery. Seven ratings were killed and the rest
surrendered.139
On 21 February, the mutineers in Bombay opened fire on some of the
Indian and British Army positions on land. Again, the army was able to
put this down swiftly; they prevented the ratings from surging back into
Bombay, although some made it into the city. On the morning of the
22nd, rioting broke out in sections of Bombay in support of the mutin-
eers.140 By early evening two battalions were deployed as Aid to the Civil
Power, supporting the Armed Police to restore order. Any RIN mutin-
eers who were caught in the city were rounded up and placed back in the
barracks. By the 23rd, when the rioting ended, there were three battal-
ions patrolling the city. More than 1,000 people were arrested, another
1,000 were injured, and some 200 were killed, along with nine ratings
and one officer. The Indian National Congress, who at first had been
passively supportive of the mutineers, became alarmed by the scale of the
violence in Bombay, and called for them to surrender. On the 23rd they
did so, hoisting white flags on the various ships.141
Overall, this incident’s effect on the army’s internal cohesion or dis-
cipline appeared to be negligible.142 In fact, the Indian Army received
high praise for its handling of both the mutiny and the civil disturbances
in Bombay. One observer recorded that ‘during the RIN mutiny in
Bombay and subsequent civil disturbances in the city, the morale of the
Indian troops employed in settling the mutiny and in assisting the civil

138
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 22 Feb. 1946, TOP, VI, 461, p. 1048: ‘there is no sign of
trouble spreading to the Indian Army’.
139
Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 25–6, and Tuker, Memory, pp. 86–91. For more detail, see Sir
F. Mudie to Wavell, 27 Feb. 1946, TOP, VI, 474, pp. 1071–4. Mudie reports on the
Karachi episode in very interesting detail.
140
See Chapter 5 for a discussion of the communal violence that erupted in Calcutta in
February 1946.
141
Sir John Colville (Bombay) to Wavell, 27 Feb. 1946, TOP, VI, 478, pp. 1079–85.
142
A minor disturbance occurred when twenty-ﬁve soldiers from the 17th Mahratta Light
Infantry refused to follow orders after they arrived in Bombay from service in Malaya;
this has been linked to issues surrounding customs examination and bad food on ship.
See Intelligence Reports, No. 5, 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.

power was reported to have been high. Men carried out their duties
efficiently and impartially.’143 Another report commented: ‘in spite of
the political capital being made out of the army’s conflicting loyalties,
Indian troops of all classes carried out their duties in the RIN mutiny and
civil riots to the complete satisfaction of their officers’.144 A follow-up
report stated flatly that there was little sympathy for the RIN ratings,
especially from veteran and frontline army units, who looked down on
the RIN and openly speculated that they must have had weak officers.145
Auchinleck wrote personally to Lockhart: ‘I will be most grateful if you
will convey to all the troops concerned my appreciation of the restraint
and discipline which they showed in most difficult circumstances and my
deep gratitude for their help in relieving a most difficult situation.’146
Interestingly, the Indian press attempted to subvert the efforts of the
Indian Army by claiming that soldiers refused to carry out the orders of
higher command to put down the mutinies.147

The continuation of the INA trials

In an attempt to celebrate the recent successes of the Indian Army in the
Second World War and also shift some public attention away from the
INA trials, the GOI and Indian Army organised a series of events during
the week of 7 March. The highlight was the Victory Parade on the 7th
itself in Delhi. Viceroy Wavell described it, both in his diary and in a
letter to King George VI, as ‘I think the most impressive parade and
ﬁnest body of men I have seen in 45 years’ service; I came away full of
pride in the Indian Army.’148
The Indian National Congress boycotted both the parade and the
celebration, and this increased the tension between Auchinleck and

143
Ibid. As Tuker stated: ‘the soldiers had done their job and done it properly’ (Memory,
p. 88).
144
30 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL. It was also reported in the intelligence briefs;
see India Command Fortnightly Intelligence Reports, 1 Mar. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276,
OIOC, BL.
145
India Command Fortnightly Intelligence Reports, 15 Mar. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276,
OIOC, BL.
146
2 Mar. 1946, 8310/154-73 Lessons of the Royal Indian Navy Mutiny, Gen. Sir Robert
Lockhart Papers, NAM.
147
Tuker, Memory, pp. 93–8. Also, the governor of the Sind, Sir Mudie, stated: ‘In today’s
Sind Observer there is a news item that a number of Indian Army men are in detention
for refusing to take action against RIN mutineers. This is absolutely false and I have
reason to believe that the Editor knows it to be false’ (Mudie to Wavell, 27 Feb. 1946,
TOP, VI, 474, pp. 1073–4).
148
Wavell to HM King George VI, 22 Mar. 1946, TOP, VI, 545, p. 1235; see also Moon,
ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 220.

Wavell on one side and the Congress leadership on the other. As the
soldiers marched off the parade ground, various nationalist demonstra-
tors jeered and derided the soldiers and their efforts. The mob of dem-
onstrators then turned their attention to the city of Delhi, resulting in
widespread burning and looting. The next day, Wavell met with Congress
leadership, and berated them for these actions. As he reported to the king
in his letter: ‘I have never been more disgusted with Indian politics; and
have taken the occasion, while seeing political leaders shortly afterwards
[after the parade] to express myself plainly indeed to them about their
insult to the Indian armed forces, who have saved India and so greatly
raised their prestige. I told them that their folly in exalting the few
thousand traitors of the INA, who were chiefly cowards and softlings of
the Indian Army, and in belittling the great mass who had been loyal and
saved India, would recoil on their own heads. They listened in silence and
professed to agree, but I doubt whether there will be any change of heart,
though I think some are beginning to realise their blunders.’149
Auchinleck, while expressing himself pleased with both the conduct of
the army during the victory celebrations and the viceroy’s dressing down
of Indian politicians, nevertheless felt compelled by nationalist attempts
to subvert his authority to set out clearly his views on the role of the army.
He did so in a letter that was read out to Indian Army officers on 28
March 1946 by the adjutant general, Savory, in a radio broadcast. The
letter, addressed to ‘Every Officer of the Indian Army’, asserted that
The magnificent divisions of the Indian Army are world renowned. The Indian
soldier will go down in posterity as among the finest fighting soldiers of the
world . . . [I]f however, the army, through inefficiency or unreliability in the
performance of its duties in the maintenance of law and order, fails to carry out
the orders of the government in power at the time, then the internal situation may
well develop into chaos . . . The Army [is] the anchor of the country and . . . its
‘Great Duty’ [is] to remain disciplined: efficient: and loyal to whatever
government may be in power . . . Thus may the Indian Army lead the way . . .
British officers, it is your duty to your country and to the army to which you
belong to pass on to your Indian comrades, who are to follow you, in a spirit of
unselfishness and service, all the experience and knowledge that you have gained
in the past, so that they may, in their turn, serve the Indian Army as faithfully and
truly as you have done.150

149
Wavell to HM King George VI, 22 Mar. 1946, TOP, VI, 545, p. 1235; see also Moon,
ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 220.
150
Morale Reports, 28 Mar. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL; see also 28 Mar. 1946, No.
1144, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester. The adjutant general of the army,
Savory had sent a note to Auchinleck on 20 March stating very similar views: ‘The aim
of the British and Indian ofﬁcers should be to ensure that the Indian Army as handed
over to the future Government of India should be loyal, efﬁcient and a reliable army in

On the same day, Lt Gen. Tuker submitted a paper to Auchinleck,

predicting that sooner or later communalism was certain to infiltrate the
Indian Army. He reportedly wrote that ‘the men are being subjected to
nationalist propaganda, attending political meetings and coming in con-
tact with political agitators . . . Communal disturbances in their home
areas and the tales of atrocities are a source of constant worry for them . . .
[A]nyone who disagrees with the above assessment is out of touch and
living in a world of make-believe.’151
Wavell noted in his journal on 19 February, as the RIN mutiny began,
that Gen. Auchinleck was very gloomy, and that he felt that Auchinleck
was considering abandoning the INA trials completely.152 One morale
report for late March/early April highlighted the complexity of the situ-
ation within the army, pointing out that even the jawans were being
forced to consider the INA question, as a result of pervasive political
rhetoric and instability in the country generally and in the other armed
forces specifically. The report also indicated that jawans and VCOs were
beginning to feel some sympathy for the INA, believing that they had
been misled by their officers and the Japanese. One key difference that
this report focused on was the feelings of both Indian and British officers;
it stated: ‘many British and Indian officers [are] afraid that leniency
shown in the trials might be widely accepted as a sign of government
weakness’.153
One follow-up intelligence report from 12 April indicated a dangerous
precedent: a commanding officer, discussing the political situation in the
country, cited a situation that had arisen with some of the new ICOs in
his unit. He stated: ‘The ICO knows about his men but either does not

accordance with its past. Anything less would lead to chaos and anyone who thought
otherwise was biting off his nose to spite his own face’ (Morale Issues, 20 Mar. 1946,
L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL). The nationalist Hindustan Times bluntly responded to
Auchinleck’s letter on 30 March: ‘There is no doubt whatever that if the transfer of
power is not quickly brought about, the foreign rulers of India cannot count upon the
loyalty of the Indian Army. Nor can the Nationalist attach much importance.’ It went
on to accuse the British officers of the army of creating trouble. Lt Col Hamid retorted
that ‘to blame them and to doubt their loyalty at this stage is to dishearten them’. See
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 47.
151
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 46.
152
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 215.
153
Morale Reports, Mar.–Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL. An intelligence report
from April also stated that the jawans were potentially becoming more politically
conscious due to Congress and the Indian press. See India Command Fortnightly
Intelligence Reports, 12 Apr. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL. One earlier
intelligence report from 1 February 1946 did touch upon the officers’ different points
of view, noting that ‘more senior ICOs showed surprise at the leniency shown and some
fear that it may herald the entry of political influence in the service’ (India Command
Fortnightly Intelligence Reports, 1 Feb. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL).

wish to counter any unhealthy political thoughts or is afraid to do so [due

to the political climate]. ICOs have been called upon to lecture to their
men on the importance of the fighting services remaining unbiased on
political issues, have shown reluctance to do so, not because they
disagree with such a policy but because they feared to do anything that
might appear to make them be seen as unnationalistic in the eyes of
the men. One ICO complained of the difficulty he would experience in
carrying out his duties in the Aid to the Civil Power. The fear of reprisals
that might be instigated against his family worried him.’154 The
ideological gap – between veteran officers with battlefield experience
and respect from their men on one side and newly arrived ICOs with
minimal frontline experience and ability to impose their will on their men
on the other – appeared to be widening.
The issue of the INA trials remained unresolved into April and
May,155 with pressure to discontinue them steadily increasing both from
within India and from the United Kingdom.156 After a long series of
debates, Wavell and Auchinleck agreed in late April to cancel any further
trials of INA personnel. They met with Nehru on 2 May to discuss the
outstanding issues in person.157
Nehru had sent many messages regarding the INA situation, and met
with Auchinleck and Wavell more than once, as had Muhammad Ali
Jinnah, the head of the Muslim League. Wavell and Auchinleck had
decided that those INA personnel who had already been found guilty
would serve out their sentences;158 this created another ongoing issue, as
both Congress and the Muslim League responded to this decision by
continuing to request that Wavell and Auchinleck release other INA
prisoners. Wavell asked Nehru not to tell the Indian press that he had
written to Auchinleck to try to influence his position, and Nehru agreed.

154
India Command Fortnightly Intelligence Reports, 12 Apr. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276,
OIOC, BL.
155
Hamid speciﬁcally recalls a meeting on 4 April where the INA was discussed
extensively: Disastrous, p. 49.
156
See Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, entries for month of March and April; see
also Record of Interview between Lt Gen. Sir A. Smith and Muhammad Ali Jinnah, 28
Mar. 1946, TOP, VII, 12, pp. 20–2, for some of the debates and discussions that
continued in March and April regarding the INA. See also Meeting between Wavell
and the Governors, 29 Mar. 1946, TOP, VII, 20, pp. 48–51.
157
See Meeting with Nehru, 2 May 1946, TOP, VII, 177, p. 394. Hamid (Disastrous, p. 59)
speciﬁcally stated that during the meeting, when Nehru pushed for the release of the
convicted members of the INA, Wavell did not mince his words; he characterised
the INA as weaklings and deserters, and declared that their release would affect the
morale of the army.
158
Fourteen men were tried and sentenced before Auchinleck discontinued the trials:
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 817.

During the meeting, Wavell bluntly reiterated once again his contempt
for the INA to Nehru. Interestingly, Nehru responded with the
following: ‘any body of men were a mixture; but that while he realised
that some of the INA men had not joined from the best of motives and
were not the best type of men, he had met many of them who were of the
good type. He said that the attitude taken by the Congress Party towards
the INA trials was not simply for political motives but in response to the
real feeling in the country . . . He said there was no intention to withhold
admiration from the regular Indian Army, though they had hitherto felt
this was a foreign instrument of repression.’159 Wavell wrote after he
entered this: ‘I think, from what he said, that Congress has begun to
realise that the INA is not entirely a creditable asset.’160
Nehru sent a note to Auchinleck on 4 May, thanking him for discon-
tinuing the trials. In this note, Nehru went into considerable detail
explaining why he had chosen to defend the INA; he also stressed that
he understood and appreciated the Indian Army’s sacrifices. He closed
his letter with the following statement: ‘I suppose that everyone who has
given thought to the matter realizes fully that it is a dangerous and risky
business to break the discipline of an army. It would obviously be
harmful to do any injury to a fine instrument like the Indian Army, and
yet, at every step, till major changes take place converting it into a real
national army, we have to face the political issue which governs every
aspect of Indian life today.’161 Auchinleck’s aide Hamid described in
some detail the follow-on meeting between Auchinleck and Nehru,
which took place the next day in Simla:162 ‘Nehru seems rather apolo-
getic as a result of his advocating the cancellation of the INA trials. He
probably realizes for the first time what effect the cancellation of the trials
will have on the regular army. This is the same army that stood firm and
fought well during the war while the INA indulged in atrocities against
their comrades. During the conversation he seemed to make peace with
the Auk [Auchinleck].’163
In spite of Nehru’s political manoeuvring in the matter of the INA
trials, his behaviour at this point indicated that he was beginning to
realise that the Indian Army as an institution needed to be non-
communal as well as apolitical, especially with independence coming
soon. Perhaps he was also beginning to realise that he might have pushed

159 160
Meeting with Nehru, 2 May 1946, TOP, VII, 177, p. 394. Ibid.
161
Nehru to Auchinleck, 4 May 1946, No. 1149, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.
162
The Cabinet Mission had just started their rounds of talks with all the various political
parties.
163
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 60.

things too far. It also highlighted once again, unfortunately, his complete
lack of understanding of the Indian Army as an organisation.

Conclusion
There can be no doubt that the INA trials placed significant strain on the
Indian Army. Gen. Auchinleck, in his attempts to reinforce the success of
the Indian Army during the Second World War and offset the INA’s
impact, was upstaged and outmanoeuvred by Nehru and the Indian
National Congress. This was possible partly because of Auchinleck’s
decision to make the trials public in order to send a message. Nehru
and many in the Indian National Congress may not have agreed with the
INA’s inception or purpose but, in the public presentation of the trials,
they recognised a major political opportunity, and seized it. In the end,
the INA would not disappear from the political upheaval in the coming
months. The issue ended only with the granting of independence in
August 1947.164
Auchinleck, pressured and buffeted by conflicting opinions about
how best to handle INA personnel designated as ‘black’, had to steer
as centrist a course as he could manage. Morale and intelligence
reports, as well as opinions from his military commanders, varied greatly
and there was little consensus to be found about the impact the trials
were likely to have on Indian Army personnel. There were hints of
potential issues for the future, demobbed soldiers being influenced
and used by various political parties, former INA soldiers entering the
‘militias’ of various political parties, and the replacement of veteran
officers with recently commissioned and non-veteran ICOs.
The irony in all of this is that, in the midst of political upheaval and
civic disruption, the Indian Army coolly and professionally carried out its
responsibilities in India Command, dealing with the civil disturbances
and acting in Aid to the Civil Power. Indian Army troops in Burma,
Malaya, French Indo-China, and the Netherlands East Indies also
carried on with their duties, which were trying to say the least, without
fuss or fanfare.165 The Indian Army, severely provoked as it was, main-
tained its professional discipline and loyalty in a national maelstrom.

164 165
See Chapter 7 for more details. See Chapter 4 for more information.

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4 The Indian Army in French Indo-China and
the Netherlands East Indies 1945–1946

Map 4.1 20th Indian Division in and around Saigon

151

Indian troops should not be used for doing Britain’s work against our
friends who are fighting that same fight we are.1
Wars do not come to a clean end.2
This chapter focuses on a difficult and controversial aspect of the Second
World War and its immediate aftermath: occupation responsibilities
throughout the Japanese Empire. When His Majesty’s Government in
London agreed to expand the area of responsibility for South East Asia
Command (SEAC) with regard to occupation duties in July 1945 at
Potsdam, Germany, this put SEAC in the position of relying upon the
largely volunteer Indian Army to carry out the mission.3 The conscript
British Army could not meet this need, as it was having great difficulties
keeping numbers high enough amid demobilisation pressures at the end
of the war in the east. In the immediate aftermath of the Second World
War, the Indian Army found itself carrying out occupation duties not just
in British colonies such as Burma and Malaya, but also in the colonies of
French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies (later Indonesia).
The Indian Army’s involvement in French Indo-China (FIC) and
the Netherlands East Indies (NEI) was to prove one of its most
controversial assignments.4 In both places, Indian Army divisions

1
Quoted in Geraint Hughes, ‘A “Post-War” War: The British Occupation of French
Indochina, September 1945–March 1946’, Small Wars & Insurgencies, 17, 3 (2006),
p. 276.
2
Louis Allen, The End of the War in Asia (London: Hart-Davis MacGibbon, 1976), p. 267.
3
All the senior officers mentioned in this chapter were Indian Army, except for Gens.
Christison, Jack Dempsey, and Mountbatten.
4
There has been considerable research into this period in the past twenty years, mostly
within the context of the post-Second World War political environment; there has not
been much specific emphasis on the Indian Army’s role as distinct from the larger
strategic context of British decolonisation and the impending conflict in French Indo-
China that would engulf the French (and later the Americans) in two costly wars, as well
as the Indonesian war of independence. For further details on the larger issues
surrounding this chapter, see the following: John Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the
Vietminh: How Britain Allowed France to Reoccupy South Indo-China, 1945–1946’,
Journal of Contemporary History, 40, 1 (Jan. 2005), pp. 115–30; Ronald Spector, ‘After
Hiroshima: Allied Military Occupations and the Fate of Japan’s Empire, 1945–1947’,
Journal of Military History, 69, 4 (Oct. 2005), pp. 1121–36; Peter Neville, Britain in
Vietnam: Prelude to Disaster, 1945–1946 (London: Routledge, 2007); Peter Dennis,
Troubled Days of Peace: Mountbatten and South East Asia Command, 1945–1946
(Manchester University Press, 1987); Hughes, ‘A “Post-War” War’; Allen, End of the
War in Asia; Peter Dunn, The First Indo-China War (London: C. Hurst & Co., 1985);
F. S. V. Donnison, British Military Administration in the Far East, 1943–1946 (London:
HMSO, 1956); Kirby, War Against Japan, V; Mountbatten, Report; Vice-Admiral Lord
Louis Mountbatten, Post Surrender Tasks: Section E of the Report to the Combined Chiefs of
Staff by the Supreme Allied Commander South-East Asia, 1943–1946 (London: HMSO,
1969); and TOP, V, VI, and VII; as well as papers of Gen. Sir Douglas Gracey, Liddell
Hart Centre, KCL. For more details on the Netherlands East Indies, see John Springhall,

found themselves, as one ofﬁcer would later state, in the position of

‘piggy in the middle’.5 The divisional and corps commanders had to
navigate a minefield of political issues, involving emancipation of
Allied prisoners of war6 and civilians, disarming more than 300,000
Imperial Japanese soldiers, and eventually fighting counter-insurgency
campaigns against nationalist guerrillas who perceived them as instru-
ments of the returning French and Dutch colonial administrations. For
some battalions, the campaigns during this period involved fighting
almost as bitter as anything they had encountered against the Japanese
in Burma.7
The occupation was further hampered by a poorly defined strategy:
mission statements appeared to change over the course of the occupa-
tion, and indicate considerable gaps in understanding between SEAC,
HMG, and India Command on what the Indian Army’s remit and goals
should be. Attempting to define, and articulate, why the Indian Army
should be involved in occupation duties in non-British colonies and as a
result find itself fighting a counter-insurgency campaign against nation-
alists that had nothing to do with India or the British Empire presented
a number of problems for both the viceroy, Lord Wavell, and Gen. Sir
Claude Auchinleck. Along with the post-war trials of Indian Army
personnel who had joined the Indian National Army as Japanese prison-
ers of war, the Indian National Congress Party made significant political
use of the Indian Army’s involvement in FIC and the NEI, part of an
ongoing debate on India’s independence and the role of the army in that
context.
While the Indian Army’s involvement was being discussed and
debated in New Delhi, the Indian Army itself quietly got on with carrying

‘Disaster in Surabaya: The Death of Brigadier Mallaby During the British Occupation of
Java, 1945–1946’, Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 24, 3 (Sep. 1996), pp.
422–43; Richard McMillan, The British Occupation of Indonesia, 1945–1946 (London:
Routledge, 2005); papers of Lt Gen. Sir Philip Christison, IWM; and papers of Lt Col
A. J. F. Doulton, NAM.
5
Author’s interview with Maj. G. C. Coppen, 1 Nov. 1999.
6
See Kirby, War Against Japan, V, Appendix 30, for a detailed discussion regarding the
numbers of POWs in SEAC AO.
7
A sad commentary regarding this point was the death of Lt Col Sarbjit Singh Kalha of the
2/1st Punjab Regiment at Sourabaya in Java, NEI. As noted in Chapter 2, he had risen to
command the battalion during the Burma campaign and was highly respected. According
to the 5th Indian divisional history, he was ‘calm and unruffled in battle, fearless, and with
delightful manners, he had won the DSO and Bar. His remarkable ability included that of
commanding both British and Indian officers, and there was no one in his battalion or in
the Division who did not hold him in the highest regard. He was one of those senior
Indian Army officers whom India could least to afford to lose’ (Brett-James, Ball of Fire,
p. 463).

out their difficult duties with competence and dispatch. They were
commended on all sides for their professionalism, providing a vivid
example of how Jawaharlal Nehru8 failed to comprehend the essential
motivation of most Indian soldiers, VCOs, and officers, regardless of
the circumstances or the problems therein: to perform to the best of their
abilities.9 To supply but one example from this period, consider the
performance of the 23rd Indian Division in the NEI by assessing awards
listings for gallantry and leadership: the Distinguished Service Order, the
Military Cross, and the Military Medal. Nine DSOs were given to
commanders during the Burma campaign, three in the NEI. Seventy
MCs were given out in Burma; twenty-three were given out in the NEI.
Last but not least, one hundred Military Medals were awarded in Burma,
and another thirty-eight in the NEI. Then consider that the 23rd served
just over one year in the NEI, compared to just under three years in
Burma against the Japanese.10
One need only refer to the various war diaries and divisional and
regimental histories to see that, for the men, VCOs, and officers, these
campaigns were a strange continuation of the Second World War –
and one which some authors felt should not have occurred.11 Some
units added battle honours to their credentials during this period; more
than one indicated that they accomplished this without any obvious
support from the British Army. The pre-war model of one British
battalion in each Indian Brigade, to toughen it up, was a thing of the
past by 1945 and 1946, and the Indian Army took responsibility for
being both the spine and the body within all of the divisions: bearing
the brunt of higher-level decision-making, expanding the area of
responsibility for SEAC, and carrying out occupation duties in non-
British colonies.

8
Nehru attempted to use both the INA trials and the operations in FIC and the NEI as
political levers against the viceroy and the CinC. His objections reached the United
States, and the New York Times reported on a speech he gave late in 1945, in which he
stated that Indian troops were ‘doing Britain’s dirty work against our friends [Viet Minh
and Indonesian nationalists]’ (New York Times, 1 Jan. 1945). The irony about the
complexity of relationships among nationalist populations at the end of the war is
exempliﬁed by Ho Chi Minh, then operating in the northern section of Vietnam who,
despite his nationalist credentials, was instrumental in the capture and handing over of
the deputy commander of the Indian National Army, Maj. Gen. A. J. Chatterjee, to the
British military.
9
See Hughes, ‘A “Post-War” War’, p. 276: ‘Indian and Gurkha troops who provided 20th
Division with nearly all of its frontline soldiers, and who showed no qualms about
treating local nationalists as the new enemy.’ See also 80th Brigade security
intelligence report, 23 Oct. 1945, WO 172/7218, NA.
10
Doulton, Fighting Cock, p. 311.
11
See McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia.

Strategic context
As noted above, Lord Louis Mountbatten, commander of SEAC, arrived
in Potsdam, Germany, on 24 July 1945, to meet with the Combined
Chiefs of Staff. There he was informed that SEAC would be taking over
responsibility for more of South East Asia – chiefly Borneo, Java, and
Indo-China, all of which had previously been under the control of South
West Pacific Area, or Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s command. At first,
Mountbatten did not feel that this would be too large a task for SEAC to
take on. SEAC had already been planning Operation Zipper, the
amphibious attack and campaign for Malaya and Singapore.
It was during the meetings in Potsdam that Mountbatten was advised
of the impending atomic bomb drop on Japan. He was sworn to secrecy,
but told to prepare for the possibility of an early Japanese capitulation.
Mountbatten duly informed SEAC HQ in Kandy, Ceylon, without
revealing information about the atomic bomb, to prepare for potentially
imminent capitulation, and to begin planning to manage the enlarged
area of responsibility that SEAC had inherited. SEAC HQ responded to
this information with concern, fearing that Operation Zipper would
not go forward if an early capitulation occurred. Military and political
leaders in SEAC and London considered the invasion and reoccupation
of Malaya and Singapore of particular psychological importance, neces-
sary to wipe clean the humiliation of the 1942 Malayan and Singapore
capitulations.12
Mountbatten immediately set out to prepare SEAC, chiefly formations
from the Twelfth and Fourteenth Armies, to make ready to seize strategic
areas from the Japanese in Burma and then prioritise specific areas
expected to be handed over to SEAC control. On 13 August SEAC
established priority areas as follows: Malaya, Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City),
Bangkok, Batavia (Jakarta, NEI), Sourabaya (NEI), and Hong Kong.
With this plan in place, SEAC was able to move quickly, and naval forces
were able to begin carrying out Operation Zipper in short order.13
The increased level of responsibility caused consternation for some
senior British officers, including Gen. Sir William Slim, commander of
Allied Land Forces South East Asia (ALFSEA). As he wrote: ‘The area
of South East Asia Land Forces had suddenly expanded to include

12
See letter to Foreign Ofﬁce, 31 Jul. 1945, Documents on British Policy Overseas, Series 1,
Vol. I, 1945 (London: HMSO, 1984), Calendar I to no. 599; also quoted in Dennis,
Troubled, pp. 11–12.
13
Saigon was placed high on the list because the Japanese HQ for their Southern Army was
housed there: Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 119.

Malaya, Singapore, Siam [Thailand], [the NEI], Hong Kong, Borneo

and the Andaman Islands . . . [I]n two of them, Indo-China [FIC] and
[the NEI], nationalist movements armed from Japanese forces had
already seized power in the vacuum left by the sudden surrender.’14
Another major issue for Gens. Slim and Auchinleck, back at India
Command, was that Operation Python, the repatriation scheme for
British personnel, was also in full force.15 Many conscripted British
ofﬁcers, NCOs, and soldiers were being released from service due to
pressure on the British government with the war’s end. With the
expanded area of operations for SEAC and the need to reoccupy many
areas, SEAC needed formations that were going to provide the capacity
required for occupation duties. The political reality of Operation Python
meant that this duty fell to the professional Indian Army,16 and this was
unlikely to be welcomed by nationalist politicians in India.17 Auchinleck
stressed to Mountbatten that it was not a foregone conclusion that all the
Indian Army troops that were needed could come from India Com-
mand.18 SEAC had asked for the 7th Indian Division to deploy to Siam,
the 20th Indian Division to deploy to Indo-China, and the 23rd and 26th
Indian divisions to deploy to Malaya and then the NEI, with the 5th
Indian Division following on.19 Auchinleck speciﬁcally cited the need for
troops for internal security duties in India, which would be necessary
later in the year and into 1946 as the INA trials moved forward. It was
clear that the political situation in India was extremely delicate; Mount-
batten understood this and was quick to respond to Auchinleck that he

14
Slim, Defeat into Victory, pp. 529–30.
15
HMG made an announcement in February 1945 that all British soldiers, NCOs, and
officers who had served in the Far East for three years and eight months would be
repatriated to the UK and released from service. In June 1945 this was amended to three
years and four months. This policy decision created significant difficulties for SEAC and
GHQ India in manning British battalions in the Indian Army, as well as British divisions,
during the final phases of the Burma campaign. Decisions made about expanding
SEAC’s area of responsibility extended its impact into the post-war period. See Kirby,
War Against Japan, V, pp. 83–91, for a full description of its effects.
16
As Ronald Spector noted: ‘Mountbatten suffered from the most critical shortage of
troops as well as the worst timing . . . [A] large proportion of Mountbatten’s non-
British forces were divisions of the Indian Army . . . [A] good number of the Indians
were career soldiers and many of the rest were in no hurry to be discharged’ (Spector,
‘After Hiroshima’, pp. 1128–9).
17
See below for more discussion.
18
It is interesting to note that, in Mountbatten’s private diary, he never alludes to any
tension regarding the use of Indian Army troops or to Auchinleck’s and Slim’s concerns,
despite mentioning both men numerous times. See Mountbatten, Personal Diary of
Admiral The Lord Louis Mountbatten: Supreme Allied Commander, South-East Asia,
1943–1946, ed. Philip Ziegler (London: Collins, 1988).
19
Slim, Defeat into Victory, pp. 530–1, and Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 124.

saw the need to be cautious. Even so, neither they nor HMG were
prepared for what would be required of the Indian Army in the NEI
and FIC or for the political fallout that would ensue.20
Even as planning went ahead, formations were earmarked and
assigned; as shipping began to move, inter-Allied relations deteriorated.
The American general Douglas MacArthur announced that he wished
for all commanders to stop movement and for no landings to take place
in the Japanese Empire until the formal surrender in Tokyo Bay had
taken place. At this point, this ceremony was planned for 28 August.
MacArthur’s reasoning was that Japan had not yet signed any surrender
treaty, and that unilateral action by theatre commanders could prejudice
the surrender process, and ultimately lead to the Japanese commander of
forces in South East Asia, Field Marshal Terauchi Hisaichi, refusing to
obey surrender orders from SEAC.21 It was well known that communi-
cations between Tokyo and field commanders were erratic at best during
this time22 and, while some of MacArthur’s points may have been
valid,23 Mountbatten and SEAC were outraged. They complained
bitterly to the Joint Chiefs, pointing out that some of their forces were
already six days out from Rangoon and preparing to land in Malaya. The
British Chiefs of Staff agreed with Mountbatten, but HMG in London
disregarded these concerns and told Mountbatten and SEAC to halt the
invasion of Malaya and follow MacArthur’s instructions. To add insult
to injury, not all Allied forces did the same. The Soviets ignored
MacArthur and continued to destroy the Japanese Army in Manchuria;
even worse, the American general Albert Wedemeyer,24 serving with the
Chinese Nationalist forces, did the same.25 This delay contributed sig-
nificantly to the subsequent issues that arose in the occupations of both
the NEI and FIC; British/Indian forces lost time and traction in dealing
with both Japanese and nationalist groups, the latter having successfully
filled the political vacuum that had been created with the Japanese
surrender.26

20 21
Dennis, Troubled, p. 7. Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 123.
22
Dennis, Troubled, p. 13.
23
It was feared that many Japanese soldiers would still ﬁght on until they heard that the
emperor had actually surrendered. It was estimated that there were close to 5 million
Japanese soldiers in the empire, and their impression was that they had not been defeated.
24
Gen. Wedemeyer had been the Chief of Staff to Mountbatten in SEAC, but in October
1944 he replaced Gen. Joseph Stillwell, to assume command of all US forces in China
and to serve as Chiang Kai-shek’s Chief of Staff.
25
See letter to Mountbatten, 21 Aug. 1945, WO 172/1778, NA, and Dunn, First Indo-
China War, p. 123.
26
Dennis, Troubled, pp. 14–15. See also Slim’s critical comments regarding this issue in
Defeat into Victory, pp. 530–1.

The British/Indian Army mission for both the NEI and FIC continued
to evolve over the next several months. Issues remain unresolved to this
day regarding the intent of senior commanders and what actually
occurred. Overall, the commanders had three speciﬁc aims in entering
into each area: rescue Allied POWs, disarm the Japanese military, and
maintain law and order to ensure internal security.27 The ability of
commanders to carry out these orders was compromised by the delay
imposed by MacArthur, and the ensuing internal political maelstrom.
The plight of the POWs was an excellent example of this; as Slim noted:
‘Our men and those of our Allies were daily dying in their foul camps;
thousands were at the limit of weakness and exhaustion.’28
SEAC’s campaigns in the NEI and FIC began simultaneously;
however, while the NEI campaign lasted through most of 1946, the
FIC campaign was over for all intents and purposes by the end of
February 1946. This chapter will ﬁrst focus on the FIC campaign, named
Operation Masterdom,29 and then deal with operations in the NEI.

French Indo-China
The British were placed in charge of only part of French Indo-China;
speciﬁcally, they were assigned to control the area south of the 16th
parallel,30 while the Chinese Nationalists controlled the area to the north.
The British area of responsibility included not only southern Vietnam,
but also Cambodia and parts of Laos. The Chinese troops, having disre-
garded MacArthur’s orders, arrived in the area ﬁrst, in early September.
Their efforts were focused on pillage, rape, and loot in the northern areas
of Indo-China.31 The British mission was organised into two groups, the
Control Commission32 and the Allied Land Forces French Indo-China

27
See ALFSEA Operational Directive No. 12, 28 Aug. 1945, ‘Masterdom’, WO 203/5444,
NA, and Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 119.
28
Slim, Defeat into Victory, pp. 530–1.
29
See Operational Directive No. 12, 28 Aug. 1945, WO 203/5444, NA, and Springhall,
‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 119.
30
In the end, the 20th Indian Division expended most of its time and effort in and around
Saigon.
31
See Springhall, ‘Kicking out the Vietminh’, p. 119, and Dunn, First Indo-China War,
p. 139.
32
This organisation was made up of resources from SEAC and reported directly back to
SEAC HQ in Kandy, Ceylon. Gen. Gracey had an extensive list of tasks to fulﬁl for
SEAC: assume control of HQ Japanese Southern Army; supervise the surrender;
transmit SEAC orders to the Japanese; obtain information regarding Japanese
dispositions and supplies; control Japanese communications; study the ‘recovery of
Allied prisoners of war and internees’ (RAPWI) problem and render all possible aid;

Figure 4.1 Indian troops arrive in Saigon in 1945 © Imperial War

Museums (Image No. SE 1772)

(ALFFIC),33 and headed by the seasoned and well-respected 20th

Indian Division commander, Maj. Gen. Douglas Gracey.34
As commander of Allied Land Forces South East Asia, Gen. Slim
issued Operational Directive No. 8 to his senior commanders for the

report on Indo-China’s lines of communication, airﬁelds, and the port of Saigon; open
river and sea approaches to Saigon; using Japanese resources, reduce size of Japanese
HQs as soon as possible; and maintain liaison with the French local government, keeping
Mountbatten informed. See 30 Aug. 1945, Box 4/2, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre,
KCL.
33
This was a larger organisation than the commission; it included French military forces
and directly reported back to Gen. Sir William Slim and ALFSEA.
34
Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 119.

military occupation of Malaya, Burma, the NEI, and FIC. Commanders

were instructed to disarm and concentrate all Japanese forces; protect,
succour, and ultimately evacuate Allied POWs and civilian internees;
establish and maintain law and order; introduce food and other civil
affairs supplies; and set up appropriate civil administration.35 Gracey
received further detailed orders; in addition to the points raised in
Operational Directive No. 8, he was instructed to pay special attention
to law and order and, more importantly, ‘liberate Allied territory in so far
as your resources permit’, which to some on his staff implied possible
future operations against the Vietnamese nationalists, the Viet Minh.36
The terms of this last directive, compared to Gracey’s actual actions,
have led historians to see Gracey as potentially going beyond his remit.37
Slim sent a message to Gracey that the French were to be in charge of
civil administration; however, in designated key areas, he would be
responsible for full authority over both the military and civilian but
working through the French administration.
By the time the British were able to send troops into Indo-China,
planning was beset with difficulties. The British had minimal intelligence
about the Japanese Army in the area, as well as the state of the adminis-
tration and relations with the Viet Minh.38 The French had administered
the area under five different colonies: Cochin-China, Tonkin, Annam,
Cambodia, and Laos. Until March 1945, the Vichy French had worked
alongside the Imperial Japanese Army, at which point they had been
ousted by Japanese occupation forces. Before the British arrived, Ho
Chi Minh had declared independence from the French authorities for
the new nation of Vietnam, with the tacit support of the Japanese. The
resistance movement was named the League for the Independence of
Vietnam, or Viet Minh. The Viet Minh provisional executive committee
in the south set out to fill the political vacuum there, acting at the behest
of Ho Chi Minh.39 The Viet Minh slowly started to take over govern-
mental control in Saigon and the surrounding areas. On the same day as
the Japanese surrender occurred, there were mass demonstrations in
Saigon in support of the Viet Minh and of the declaration of independ-
ence. Violence erupted between French civilians, the Viet Minh, and

35
ALFSEA Op. Directive No. 8, 23 Aug. 1945, Box 4/2, Gen. Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart
Centre, KCL.
36
Operational Directive No. 12, 28 Aug. 1945, Box 4/2, Gen. Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart
Centre, KCL.
37
See debate in Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 140–7.
38
Ibid., p. 132,/2, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL. More information started to
trickle out to the British, but it was not of a high quality.
39
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 290.

other political factions wishing to take advantage of the power vacuum.

There were rumours of many people being killed, and escalating
violence.40
The British needed to get troops to Saigon quickly, but were
hampered by acute transport shortages by air and sea. This was the start
of an ongoing problem for the British and, later, the French forces. The
first elements of the 20th Indian Division, 80th Indian Brigade, arrived
at Saigon’s Tan Son Nhut airport on 8 September and immediately
began to assess the situation.41 More troops arrived on 11 September
and Gracey arrived from Rangoon (Yangun) with his staff on 13
September.42 Gracey immediately recognised the need for more troops,
with the city and surrounding areas apparently in chaos. Ironically,
Japanese troops were being used to provide security at the airfield. They
would play both defensive and offensive roles under British command in
the following days, weeks, and months, not just in FIC but also in the
NEI.43 This would lead to controversy, especially with the American and
British press.
While one of the chief missions for Gracey and the Indian troops was
disarming the Japanese, they recognised that they would need to keep a
significant number in place as defensive and static forces.44 Indian troops
were slowly starting to arrive, and the rising violence between the French
and the Vietnamese communities was causing problems.45 As the days
progressed, tensions between the British/Indians and the Viet Minh

40
Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, pp. 117–18.
41
There is some discrepancy on the date: some authors such as Springhall state the first
troops arrived on the 8th. The first detachment was more than one hundred soldiers
from the 1/19th Hyderabad Regiment. Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 298, states that
the first troops arrived on the 8th. The brigade would not be in fully in country until the
26th, due to the many transport issues.
42
Upon arriving, Gracey and his staff walked past the small Viet Minh delegation and met
with the Japanese contingent. This action specifically stated that the Allies did not
recognise the Viet Minh as a legitimate government.
43
Interestingly, many Indian Army veterans recalled, from their command of Japanese
POWs, the professionalism and discipline that the Japanese displayed. Some even
indicated their preference for commanding Japanese over their own Indian jawans:
author’s interviews with Indian Army officers, 1999–2009. 8th G/8th Gurkha Riles, Lt
Col E. H. Russell, noted in a letter to his wife, upon arrival in Saigon, that ‘the most
incredible thing – really incredible thing – is to see the Japs. As we came down the
gangplank, a Jap fatigue party took the men’s kit from them, and loaded it onto lorries.
They did it at the double. My right arm will fall off soon, as every Jap, even if he is 500
yards away, salutes, and one has to the return the salutes’ (cited in 8th Gurkha Rifles
Association, Red Flash, No. 15, Feb. 1992, p. 6).
44
The process of disarming and rounding up soldiers and weapons was complicated. The
British and Indian soldiers would do it first and then hand over the weapon stores to the
French authorities and military, as the Japanese refused to deal with them.
45
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, pp. 298–9.

increased apace. The Viet Minh were inciting Japanese soldiers not to
surrender, but to desert with their weapons and join the Viet Minh.46
They also set out to spread anti-British propaganda among the Indian
soldiers in the division, but it fell on deaf ears.47
Gracey and his staff viewed the Viet Minh as a direct threat to law and
order. On 19 September, SEAC issued contradictory directives, simul-
taneously ordering Gracey and the 20th Division to seize Saigon Radio
and censor other broadcasts of the Viet Minh, and issuing a general
statement about not interfering in local affairs.48 Gracey and his staff
decided on more far-reaching moves to contend with rising violence.
Brig. Maunsell, Chief of Staff on the Control Commission, met with the
Viet Minh provisional government on the 19th, and issued a proclam-
ation closing all newspapers, banning Provisional Government seizure of
buildings or other property, banning all public meetings, demonstra-
tions, and processions, and the carrying of weapons, and enforcing a
night curfew. He also asked for a list of all Vietnamese police and armed
units. This amounted to declaring martial law, which Gracey then had to
enforce, relying on the equivalent of two battalions of troops.49 Gracey
advised SEAC of his proclamation, asserting that: ‘I would stress that
though it may appear that I have interfered in the politics of the country,
I have done so only in the interest of the maintenance of law and order
and after close collaboration with some senior French representatives.’50
Mountbatten backed Gracey at the time, although later in life he ques-
tioned Gracey’s decisions at this point in the campaign.51
Gracey’s proclamation was read out and in theory took effect on 21
September. In reality, however, without sufﬁcient troops the British
were limited in their ability to enforce its tenets, particularly the

46
It was estimated that more than 2,000 Japanese soldiers did desert before and after the
arrival of the British and Indian troops: Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 119.
47
‘Report on Ops 80 Ind Inf BDE’, Box 5/4, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Cenre, KCL; see
page 6, ‘propaganda to suborn Indian soldiers were freely posted up by Annamites [Viet
Minh]. These had no effect at all.’
48
It was stressed by Mountbatten in a communiqué: HMG’s goals in sending British
troops into FIC were fourfold – to control Field Marshal Terauchi’s headquarters,
which commanded the Japanese Armies in the Southern Regions; to disarm the
Japanese; to release and repatriate Allied POWs and internees; and to maintain law
and order until the arrival of French forces. He stressed that HMG had no intention of
using British forces in FIC to crush resistance movements. See Dunn, First Indo-China
War, p. 167.
49
Gracey to Mountbatten, 19 Sep. 1945, WO 172/1784, NA.
50
Gracey to Mountbatten, 21 Sep. 1945, WO 203/5562, NA; Dennis, Troubled, p. 39; and
Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 120.
51
See Mountbatten, Post Surrender Tasks: Section E, as well as Dunn, First Indo-China War,
p. 173, and Dennis, Troubled, p. 41.

curfew. On the 22nd, former French POWs were released and rearmed
to support the effort.52 While at ﬁrst this idea seemed like a good
solution to the manpower problems in Saigon, it was to have wider
repercussions within twenty-four hours. British and Indian troops had
been moving through the city, trying to round up and disarm the Viet
Minh police and armed groups. Units of the 80th Indian Brigade also
moved against the Viet Minh-controlled administrative buildings,
handing them over to the meagre French forces after they had taken
possession. The French were able to seize control of the administrative
elements of Saigon without too much bloodshed, pushing out the Viet
Minh provisional government and raising the tricolour above the Hotel
de Ville.53 A coup d’état had occurred, however, and more blood was to
be spilled.54
The released French POWs had been guarded by the Viet Minh, and
had suffered at their hands. Unfortunately for Gracey and the British/
Indian forces, within twenty-four hours of the coup, French discipline
began to break down, and French troops began to kill Viet Minh and
suspected Viet Minh in retaliation. The French civilian population also
became involved with the ensuing mob violence. This had repercussions
for the British and Indian troops, and Gracey attempted to make the
French commanders aware of the issues and get their men back in
control. These men still fell under the command of Gracey, and he and
his men would be accountable for the situation’s deterioration.55
As a result of these developments, the Viet Minh began to consider the
British as part of the attempt to reimpose French colonial government in

52
The French 9th DIC (Colonial Infantry Division) was still not in Vietnam, but was to be
released soon, to relieve the 20th Indian Division.
53
See ‘Saigon Control Commission, Political Report, 13 September to 9 October 1945’,
Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL, for a more detailed account, as well as Dunn,
First Indo-China War, pp. 183–9.
54
Throughout this period, a series of debates was ongoing both in SEAC and in London,
where the British mission began and ended. Mission creep had been occurring since mid
August and there was at times a lack of clear strategy and end goal. Gen. Gracey felt that
he had to carry out the coup to allow for law and order to be restored, and that the
French forces and administration were best placed to implement this, since the Viet
Minh was not a recognised organisation. See Dennis, Troubled, Springhall, ‘Kicking Out
the Vietminh’, and especially Dunn, First Indo-China War, for a much more detailed
account of the higher-level issues regarding strategy and joint British and French
planning and thinking on Indo-China. An interesting document is the ‘Report on Ops
80 Ind Inf BDE’, found in Gen. Gracey’s papers. It clearly outlines the need and
planning for the seizure of key administrative buildings and centres in Saigon, stating:
‘the stage was now set for the coup d’etat by the French to take over the civil
administration in Saigon’ (p. 4; ‘Report on Ops 80 Ind Inf BDE’, Gracey Papers, 23
Sep. 1945, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL).
55
See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 195–7, and Dennis, Troubled, pp. 43–8.

Indo-China.56 Some authors cite this episode as the beginning of the first
Indo-China war. The Viet Minh launched a general strike on 24
September, paralysing sections of the city by cutting off water or electri-
city. Violence also began to increase: on 25 September, more than 300
French and Eurasian families were butchered in a northern section of
Saigon by Viet Minh and other paramilitary gangs. Violence escalated as
the Viet Minh set up road blocks and British and Indian troops engaged
them during their expanded patrols.57 The sounds of gunfire, mortars,
and other weapons were heard each night, as British/Indian, French, and
Viet Minh forces skirmished through the city. Many Burma veterans
noted the difficulty of fighting guerrillas in an urban environment.58
Mountbatten praised Gracey for his actions in communicating with
the Chiefs of Staff,59 but on the 24th he cabled Gracey and asserted that
British and Indian troops should be used only in designated ‘key areas’;
the French and Japanese needed to handle sections outside Saigon.60
Mountbatten appeared to be growing concerned that Gracey had
exceeded his orders, and began to question his ability to command.
Gen. Slim, by contrast, supported Gracey, and pushed Mountbatten to
release all of the 20th Indian Division to provide support.61 The course
of action being contemplated was for British/Indian forces to take
complete control of Saigon; this would require a whole division, to
restore law and order and to repatriate POWs as well. Gen. Gracey was
also expected to start working to find a political solution to the problems
between the Viet Minh and the French, so as to allow the withdrawal of
British and Indian forces.62 It was also at this juncture that a politically
fraught decision was made: to expand the use of Japanese troops.

56
‘On September 23, armed and protected by the British forces, the French colonialists
launched their attack and occupied Saigon. Our people replied by force of arms, and
from that moment, our heroic resistance began’ (Truong Chinh, Primer for Revolt (New
York: Praeger, 1963), p. 17); see also Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 202–3.
57
The ﬁrst American casualty in the history of US intervention in Vietnam occurred during
this period. Lt Col Thomas Dewey of the Ofﬁce of Strategic Services (OSS) was killed in
a Viet Minh ambush. The role and position of the US OSS during this period are
controversial; see Dunn, First Indo-China War, and Dennis, Troubled, for a more
detailed discussion of their stance in relation to the British and French activities.
58
See war diaries from the 20th Indian Division for more information, WO 172, NA; see
also Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 200–1.
59
Dennis, Troubled, p. 50.
60
See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 200–10, and Dennis, Troubled, pp. 50–4.
61
Springhall, ‘Kicking Out the Vietminh’, p. 124, as well as Hughes, ‘A “Post-War” War’,
p. 271, and Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 229–30. At a meeting in Singapore on 28
September, Slim backed Gracey against Mountbatten that the whole division was
needed to restore law and order in and around Saigon. See Hughes, ‘A “Post-War”
War’, p. 270.
62
Dennis, Troubled, pp. 59–61.

Not only would they be protecting airﬁelds; they were also allocated to
more offensive roles alongside British troops and sometimes under the
command of British ofﬁcers63 to support Gracey’s efforts to impose law
and order in and around Saigon, until the rest of the 20th Indian Division
and the follow-on French military forces arrived.64 The Japanese refused
to work for the French, and requested that all orders and actions be
directed through the British command structure.65 In the end, however,
the main French build-up of forces took longer than expected.66
It was at this juncture that both Gen. Auchinleck and Viceroy Wavell
began to note the political fallout that operations in FIC and the NEI
were causing in India. Cognisant of the pressure on the Indian Army
arising from the INA trials that were about to begin in New Delhi, Wavell
stated to the secretary of state for India, Lord Pethick-Lawrence, on
1 October 1945:
The situation in French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies will give us
some trouble. Indian troops are involved in both places, and we shall be attacked
for allowing HMG to use them to suppress national movements. It was of course
most necessary to disarm the Japanese, and to maintain law and order while this
was being done. But I hope that HMG will be able to disengage the troops, both
British and Indian, as soon as possible and leave the business to the French and
the Dutch.67

63
Author’s interviews with Indian Army veterans, 1999–2009, and 1/1st Gurkha Rifles,
War Diary, Oct. 1945, WO 172/7769, NA, as well as Dunn, First Indo-China War,
p. 204.
64
The Japanese forces followed a multi-pronged approach to the campaign. Some units
clearly did not want to support the British and French, and actively aided the Viet Minh
with weapons and lack of support to the British and Indian troops. Other units actively
worked with British and Indian troops, and fought and died alongside them in battle
with the Viet Minh. See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 119–39, 149–55, 269–75, and
308–14, for a more in-depth discussion.
65
Gracey reiterated this in a letter to Slim on 5 November: ‘It is most necessary that
I should continue to run the whole Japanese side of things as long as we are here. The
Japanese will take anything from us, but will do nothing for the French.’ Later in the
letter, he noted a request from the Japanese command: ‘We respectfully submit a request
that all orders to our forces should be passed by a British officer and not a French officer,
as we find it increasingly difficult to carry out the orders resulting from their shameless
plans’ (Gracey to Slim, 5 Nov. 1945, Box 5/4, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre,
KCL).
66
The 9th DIC was not formally in place until the end of November 1945, although other
forces started to arrive in October and early November. Gen. Philippe Leclerc,
commander of the French forces, arrived on 5 October. See SACSEA Joint Planning
Staff, ‘Turnover of Command’, 19 Nov. 1945, WO 203/5608, NA, and Dennis,
Troubled, pp. 59–61.
67
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 1 Oct. 1945, TOP, VI, 127, p. 306. Wavell would reiterate
this point in a follow-on letter to Pethick-Lawrence on 9 October 1945. See TOP, VI,
135, p. 323.

Slim was aware of and in agreement with both Wavell and Auchinleck.
He advised the chief of the Imperial General Staff, Alanbrooke, that
‘directions we have been receiving from various sources seem to me to
have been somewhat involved and at times contradictory’. In the same
letter, he also recounted a conversation with the British secretary of state
for war, Jack Lawson. He noted that, while Lawson intended that
the British not become involved in nationalist struggles, French forces
still operated under Slim’s command, and that ‘as long as we retain this
command . . . we cannot divorce ourselves from the responsibility for
their actions’.68
Meanwhile, back in Saigon, the fighting continued. On 1 October, the
same day that Wavell was asking for an end to the army’s commitment,
the British Chiefs of Staff reversed an earlier decision, and expanded
Gracey’s and the British and Indian troops’ remit to work outside the
Saigon area in support of the French. It was also on 1 October that talks
were held between the British and the Viet Minh. Gracey’s stated
position was to curb violence and restore order in Indo-China. The Viet
Minh expected the British to act as arbitrators, but Gracey was under
strict orders not to do so, since such a role was political and outside his
remit. A ceasefire was agreed, to take effect on the evening of the 2nd,
and meetings between the French and Viet Minh were scheduled for the
3rd. Despite these efforts, sporadic fighting continued.69 The truce
ended definitively on 10 October, when the Viet Minh attacked a
British/Indian engineer reconnaissance party. Gracey had warned the
Viet Minh that they would reap the consequences of violence against
his troops; he ordered his 20th Indian Division, veterans of the Burma
campaign, and the newly arrived 32nd Indian Brigade, to clear the areas
to the north of the city.70 Brig. D. E. Taunton of the 80th Indian Brigade
recalled that ‘the moment rebel Annamites [the term used for the Viet
Minh by British and Indian troops] attacked British troops I issued
orders that we would cease to use minimum force and persuasion, but
would use maximum brutal force in order to effect counter-measures in
the quickest way and avoid unnecessary casualties to own troops’.71

68
Slim to Alanbrooke, 6 Oct. 1945, annex to COS 9450 607 (0), CAB, 80/97, cited in
Dennis, Troubled, p. 165.
69
Gracey to Mountbatten, 1 Oct. 1945, WO 172/1786, NA, and Dennis, Troubled,
pp. 66–7. See also Dunn, First Indo-China War, ‘Truce’, pp. 236–56, for a very
detailed discussion of the truce talks and the higher-level political issues that occurred.
70
Gracey was quick to point out that it was not going to be wanton killing; there would be
no provocative use of force, and troops would cause minimal disturbance to law-abiding
citizens. However, this did not mean he would not use all of his weapons against the
violent elements of the Viet Minh. See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 259–60.
71
‘Report on Ops 80 Ind Inf BDE’, Box 5/4, Gracey Papers, Liddle Hart Centre, KCL.

Mountbatten had agreed to this, asserting that ‘I ordered strong action

should be taken by the British/Indian forces to secure further key-points
and so to widen and consolidate the perimeter of these areas. At the same
time I insisted that further attempts to negotiate must continue.’72
The escalating violence in both FIC and the NEI increased political
pressure on Auchinleck and Wavell in India. Auchinleck telegraphed the
British Chiefs of Staff on 7 October, arguing that Indian troops must be
withdrawn to alleviate political pressure.73 Pethick-Lawrence responded
to both Wavell and Auchinleck, conﬁrming that it was HMG’s intent to
withdraw as soon as possible, but that, in the meantime, ‘our endeavour
[is] to keep out of political trouble in these areas as much as possible . . .
we can be entirely withdrawn not until French and Dutch troops
arrive . . . [W]e cannot totally disregard the interests of our French and
Dutch Allies . . . [I]n any case it is clearly our duty so long as we are the
only people on the spot with effective forces to prevent . . . conditions
deteriorating into civil chaos with great loss of life.’74
Throughout October and November, the remaining units and forma-
tions of the 20th Indian Division arrived; they set out to establish control
in and around Saigon and to provide support for the French.75 The
French also began to arrive in early October; their commander, Gen.
Philippe Leclerc, arrived on the 5th, along with the 5th Colonial Infan-
try.76 Fighting continued during this period between the British/Indians
and the Viet Minh, and between the Viet Minh and the French.77
Japanese troops were also utilised. The British also brought in more

72
Mountbatten, Post Surrender Tasks: Section E, p. 282, and Dunn, First Indo-China War,
p. 257.
73
Auchinleck to the Chiefs of Staff, 7 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/716, OIOC.
74
Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 12 Oct. 1945, TOP, VI, 140, p. 337.
75
Lt Col Russell, 3/8th Gurkhas, noted some of his frustration with the mission in a letter
to his wife. On 23 October, after his battalion had lost more men killed and wounded, he
wrote: ‘what a bloody show this is. We had another man killed and two wounded, one
rather badly . . . I wouldn’t mind so much if this was a pukka war, but our men are getting
hit because a lot of bloody Annamites [Viet Minh] want to chuck the French out. I hope
these French get a move on and take over the running of their own affairs’ (Red Flash,
No. 15, Feb. 1992, p. 6).
76
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, pp. 302–3.
77
For some battalions, serious ﬁghting ensued. See the newsletters and histories of 9/14th
Punjab and the 2/8th Punjab regiments in Boxes 5/5 and 5/12, Gen. Gracey Papers,
Liddell Hart Centre, KCL, for more details of the actions, as well as Dunn, First Indo-
China War, pp. 257–9. As one battalion stated: ‘As far as the [battalion] was concerned
the shooting season for the Annamites [Viet Minh] had opened.’ See also battalion
history of the 9/14th Punjab, which stated: ‘it was an unsatisfactory sort of ﬁghting.
The enemy wore no uniform and usually did not carry arms visibly’ (John Booth, Ninth
Battalion Fourteenth Punjab Regiment (Cardiff: Western Mail and Echo Limited, 1948),
p. 97).

Royal Air Force support, in the form of Spitfire fighter squadrons. These
were to be used sparingly and under strict controls, but to be called upon
if necessary.78
By 17 October, the last units and formations of the 20th Indian
Division had arrived and were ready to move against the Viet Minh. It
was decided to send the 100th Indian Infantry Brigade, commanded by
Brig. C. H. B. Rodham, and supporting arms to the north and north-east
of Saigon into the Thu Duc/Thu Dau Mot/Biên Hòa areas. Intelligence
reports stated that the Viet Minh strength lay in these areas, and there
was a clear need to break the Viet Minh ring of control surrounding
Saigon. Rodham informed the Japanese command in the region that the
100th Brigade was coming to occupy the area and assume responsibility
for the maintenance of law and order over the course of 23–25
October.79 The Japanese were asked to continue disarming the Viet
Minh, searching for weapons, and clearing areas around the main towns.
The Japanese troops now fell under the command of Brig. Rodham and
his brigade. The various units of the 100th Indian Brigade – the 1/1st
Gurkha Rifles, 4/10th Gurkha Rifles, 14/13th Frontier Force Rifles,80
and the 16th Light Cavalry81 – carried out a well-planned and -executed
operation to clear the areas to the north of Saigon. The Japanese carried
out the static duties of defence, while the 100th operated mobile columns
to destroy any opposition and deal with any road blocks.82
The units of the 100th Brigade defaulted to their war-time experience,
and created combined arms mobile units. An example of this, an oper-
ation known as Gateforce, was established by the 14/13th FFRifles, who
were based to the north-east of Saigon at Biên Hòa. Maj. L. D. Gates
took his company, plus a squadron of armoured cars from the 16th
Cavalry, a section of mortars from the 14/13th FFRifles, a detachment
of Royal Engineers, and an attachment of Japanese troops, and pushed
east towards Xuan Loc. They were ordered to create a patrol base in
Xuan Loc on 29 October and patrol for three days, to try to destroy and
capture 2,000 Viet Minh and members of the HQ staff who had been
reported to have fled to the area. Gates was ordered to use maximum

78
See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 236–7, and Dennis, Troubled, p. 64.
79
100th Indian Infantry Brigade, War Diary, Nov. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.
80
This battalion was considered one of the best in the Burma campaign; at this point in the
Indo-China campaign, it still had many of the veterans from Burma. See Marston,
Phoenix, for much more detail on the battleﬁeld performance of this battalion.
81
This was a pre-war Indianised regiment and performed well during the war. It was
commanded at this point by an Indian ofﬁcer, Lt Col Joyanto Nath Chaudhuri.
82
Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 270–7, and 100th Indian Infantry Brigade, War Diary,
Nov. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.

force to clear the area and track down and destroy the Viet Minh.83 One
of the most controversial aspects of this operation was the instruction to
destroy any village that resisted their efforts.84 Over the course of several
days, Gateforce engaged elements of the Viet Minh and succeeded
in destroying various roadblocks and fortified positions. After two days
of fighting, it was estimated that close to 200 Viet Minh had been killed
in the Xuan Loc region, thus, in theory, breaking the back of the overt
Viet Minh military presence.85 It was reported that Gateforce was also
able to rescue some twenty French civilian hostages.86
The month of November brought about a partial shift in the campaign.
As the 20th Indian Division was able to consolidate its gains, it decided
to refocus on its primary operational task, disarming the Japanese
Army.87 More and more French troops were arriving in FIC and were
able to start taking over key security tasks from British/Indian troops, as
well as from the Japanese outside Saigon. The various units and forma-
tions of the 20th Indian Division continued to send out mobile combined
arms patrols to show the flag and disrupt any Viet Minh attempts to seize
key areas within the Saigon area of operations, at the same time as
disarming the Japanese soldiers.88 At around this time, Gen. Gracey

83
14/13th FFRifles War Diary, Nov. 1945, WO 172/7743, NA.
84
Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 280. This was not the first time that buildings were burned
in retaliation by British and Indian troops. Members of the Bombay Sappers and Miners
Company had destroyed huts after the killing of one of their men. See ibid., p. 277. The
issue with this is that although the Indian Army was an army that understood ‘minimum
force’, many within the 20th Indian Division were mistakenly viewing this campaign
through the prism of conventional operations, due to the level of violence and the
military organisation and activities of the Viet Minh. It must also be remembered that the
burning of villages followed the doctrinal practice of ‘punitive expeditions’ in the North-
West Frontier Province over the previous eighty years. The British attempted to drop
leaflets to inform the population, as they had done in the NWFP. See letter from Gracey
to Mountbatten, 9 Nov. 1945, WO 203/4271, NA, and Dennis, Troubled, pp. 174–5, for
some of Gracey’s explanations for the destruction of houses and, potentially, villages.
85
14/13th FFRifles, War Diary, Nov. 1945, WO 172/7743, NA, and 100th Indian Infantry
Brigade, War Diary, Nov. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.
86
Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 282. By the end of November, eighteen British and
Indian soldiers had been killed and fifty-one wounded, along with nineteen Japanese
killed and thirteen missing. It was estimated that close to 400 Viet Minh had been killed
and more than 400 had been captured by the 20th Indian Division; estimates from the
French and Japanese were lacking. See Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 285.
87
Lt Col Russell of 3/8th Gurkhas wrote, in a letter to his wife, ‘disarming the Japs is to
start in a few days . . . Unfortunately the Japs I have had under my command are to be
disarmed by the RAF. I wish we were doing it, as I can’t help liking the Jap Major who
commands them, and I am sure he would prefer to be disarmed by us’ (Red Flash, no. 15,
Feb. 1992, p. 7).
88
See 100th Indian Infantry Brigade War Diary for the month of November 1945, as it lists
‘Jap Surrender Instr No 1’ as well as other key tasks and operations for the brigade: WO
172/7135, NA.

made some key observations of the French Army’s performance in

Saigon. In a report to Gen. Slim on 5 November, he wrote: ‘The French
troops are leaving a pretty good trail of destruction behind them, which
will result in such resentment that it will become progressively more
difficult for them to implement their new policy, and, I am convinced,
will result in guerrilla warfare, increased sabotage and arson as soon as
we leave the country.’89
At the same time, Gen. Auchinleck, still pressing for the withdrawal of
the Indian forces in the region, sought to make clear to the British Chiefs
of Staff that the Indian Army was not an open-ended resource which they
could use throughout Asia: ‘If we continue to [send] Indian troops in[to]
Java [and FIC], as HMG apparently propose to do, for the purpose of
reinstating Dutch rule in the Netherlands East Indies [and French rule in
FIC], we can have no defence whatever against the accusations that these
troops are mercenary troops who are acting at the bidding of the British
Government against the wishes of the Indian people.’90 He followed up
with a similar letter to the War Office on 15 November 1945.91
By the end of November, units of the 100th Indian Brigade had been
used in mobile columns to engage pockets of the Viet Minh and had
disarmed thousands of Japanese. The 14/13th FFRifles had disarmed
more than a thousand Japanese on one day in November.92 At the same
time, some Japanese frontline units were still being employed in battle,
doing a professional job and being commended for it.93
The complexity of the war and the ‘strangeness’ were staggering
to many Burma campaign veterans.94 The 9/12th Frontier Force

89
Gracey to Slim, 5 Nov. 1945, Box 5/4, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL.
90
Auchinleck to Wavell, 13 Nov. 1945, No. 1112, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. He followed this with another letter on 20 November to G. E. B. Abell,
private secretary to the Viceroy, No. 1116, stating that the Government of India should
be consulted before Indian troops were used in other areas. Auchinleck and Wavell were
under immense pressure due to the INA trials that were taking place and were aware of
the potential additional pressure that would be applied to the Indian Army.
91
Auchinleck to War Office, 15 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1488, OIOC.
92
See both the battalion and the brigade war diaries, WO 172/7135 and WO 172/7743,
NA, for more detail.
93
Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 311.
94
Author’s interview with Indian Army officers, 1999–2009. It is also noted in W. E. H.
Condon, The Frontier Force Regiment (Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1962), pp. 512–13: ‘As
the concentration of surrendered Japanese troops increased, the men of the battalion
[9/12th FFR] had naturally to come into closer contact with their late enemies, and had
the opportunity to observe them closely. It is recorded that their discipline was first class,
and they co-operated and carried out orders 100 percent. Never was there a cause for
complaint, and the men grew to respect them and showed a tendency to fraternize.’ The
9/14th Punjab Regiment’s battalion history, while respecting the Japanese soldiers’
discipline, still could not see them as other than an enemy. As this history stated: ‘Many

Regiment95 was earmarked to set up a large Japanese internment area

in Cap St Jacques (Vung Tau) to repatriate Japanese POWs.96 On 28
November, the 32nd Indian Infantry Brigade handed over their area of
responsibility north of Saigon. The drawdown was scheduled to begin in
late November, in anticipation of Mountbatten’s arrival to formally accept
the surrender of Gen. Terauchi and his forces. While in Saigon, Mount-
batten met with Gen. Gracey and the French army commander, Leclerc, to
discuss the withdrawal of the 20th Indian Division, in response to both
the needs of SEAC in other areas of operation (AOs) and the political
pressure being applied by the Indian National Congress against the Govern-
ment of India. The 32nd Brigade was earmarked to leave by the end of the
year, and the 80th Brigade to leave with the divisional HQ and Gen. Gracey
by the end of January 1946, as French forces geared up to take over.97
While the planning for withdrawal was in full swing, operations con-
tinued and took on a different tone during December. The 32nd Brigade
carried out an operation to clear Han Phu Island of the Viet Minh, which
it did with minimal casualties. By the 19th, it had relinquished command
of the area to the French.98 As 80th Indian Brigade was earmarked next,
it slowly started to hand over various areas of responsibility to the French,
at the same time as disarming the Japanese.99 It became so quiet in their
sector that the battalion was able to revert to peace-time training.100 This
was not true for the 100th Indian Brigade and its units, which continued
to be engaged in various skirmishes with the Viet Minh at the same time
they were disarming the Japanese and seizing arms stocks, during
December 1945 and January 1946.101

of them [surrendering Japanese soldiers], handing over their swords which were family
heirlooms, were in tears but after what we had seen of them [in Burma] our hearts were
closed to any pity for the Jap’ (Booth, Ninth Battalion Fourteenth Punjab Regiment, p. 99).
95
The battalion arrived in FIC in early October 1945. It was initially commanded by an
Indian commissioned officer (ICO), Lt Col Hayaud Din, who had commanded the
battalion during the heavy fighting in Burma in 1945. The battalion had served
throughout the Burma campaigns of 1943–5 with the 80th Indian Infantry Brigade.
Upon the ending of the Burma campaign, the unit became the recce battalion for the
division. During the first weeks of deployment to FIC, it served in the Cholon area of
Saigon and participated in many clearing patrols of the area. In mid October it was
ordered to proceed to Cap St Jacques to set up a series of internment camps for the
Japanese POWs. See Jan.–Dec. 1945, WO 172/7738, NA, as well as Box 4/26, Gracey
Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL.
96
9/12 Frontier Force Regiment, War Diary, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7738, NA.
97
See Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 314–16, for more details.
98
32nd Indian Infantry Brigade, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7098, NA.
99
80th Indian Infantry Brigade, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7128, NA.
100
9/12th FFR, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7738, NA, and see also Condon, Frontier Force
Regiment, pp. 509–13.
101
100th Indian Infantry Brigade, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.

While the British were beginning their process of withdrawal and

handover, French ‘arrogance’ and lack of discipline, which had already
caused problems in September, began to get out of hand again. Gen.
Gracey sent a letter to Gen. Leclerc, bluntly stating his anger at the
French units’ arrogant and racist behaviour towards both the Japanese
forces and his own Indian troops. He wrote, in part:
It might be of value for them [French troops] to realize that, had not the Japanese
in most cases carried out my orders faithfully, there would have been a disaster of
the first magnitude in Southern French Indo-China with a massacre of thousands
of French people, and the destruction of a vast amount of French property . . .
[With regard to instances of disrespect towards Indian troops] the camaraderie
which exists between officers of the Indian Army and their Gurkha and Indian
soldiers must be explained to them. Our men, of whatever colour, are our friends
and not considered ‘black’ men. They expect and deserve to be treated in every
way as first-class soldiers and their treatment should be, and is, exactly the same
as that of white troops.102

Gracey was similarly disturbed: ‘There is no more fruitful source of

friction between Indian Army officers and their men on one side, and
French troops on the other, than when our Indian and Gurkha troops are
regarded and treated as “black” by French officers and men. I mention
this point particularly as cases have occurred in which it is obvious that
our Indian Army traditions have not been understood.’103 As noted
previously, the 32nd and 80th Brigades began to hand over control to
the French and organise withdrawal, in preparation for service in British
Borneo and other AOs of SEAC in December. Meanwhile, the fighting
continued, to the north and north-east of Saigon, in the 100th Brigade’s
AO, throughout December and early January. The brigade was
stretched, due to the lack of supporting forces to the south and west.
The 14/13th FFRifles carried out countless patrols in and around Biên
Hòa, reverting to the term ‘Sher Forces’, which had originally referred to
their patrolling activities in the Burma campaign. This exemplifies how
many within the battalion saw this as a continuation of the Burma war,
albeit against a different enemy.104 While the battalion sent out Sher
Forces to engage the Viet Minh, they slowly started to see a Viet Minh
build-up of forces and became aware that the Viet Minh controlled the

102
See 12 Dec. 1945, Box 4/16, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL; also quoted in
Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 325–6, and Dennis, Troubled, p. 177.
103
12 Dec. 1945, Box 4/16, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL.
104
Author’s interviews with officers from the 14/13th FFRifles. See my Phoenix for more
details on the 14/13th FFRifles and the Sher Forces, as well as Dec. 1945, WO 172/
7743, NA.

night once again. Many patrols were able to surprise the Viet Minh,
partially due to the jungle warfare experience they had earned in Burma.
A marked similarity between the campaigns in Burma and in FIC was
evident in the Viet Minh attack on the patrol base at Biên Hòa. Overnight
on 2/3 January 1946, a Viet Minh battalion attacked the main patrol base
for the 14/13th FFRifles there, with attached troops from the Jats. The
Viet Minh launched five well-coordinated, simultaneous attacks sup-
ported by heavy fire. The Indian troops were able to beat off the attacks,
with heavy fire from machine guns and supporting mortars. The attack
lasted for four hours and resulted in an estimated 100 Viet Minh killed,
with no losses for the troops at Biên Hòa, including the Japanese, who
were still defending.105 While the Viet Minh lost the battle, many of their
opponents noted their bravery afterwards.106
Units of the 100th Indian Brigade continued to send out patrols to
keep up the pressure, before the brigade handed over responsibility to
French forces.107 The Viet Minh in return kept pressure on the brigade
and the various patrol bases, including Biên Hòa. The ‘mobile’ ability
provided by the 16th Light Cavalry’s armoured cars ended with the
16th’s departure on 12 January.108 The 80th Indian Brigade had stood
down the day before, and the 20th Division HQ and Gen. Gracey were
scheduled to leave FIC at the end of the month for Malaya. The date set
for the transfer of all forces, including some Indian battalions in FIC to
French command, was 28 January, the day that Gracey was scheduled to
leave.109 More than 54,000 Japanese soldiers had been disarmed and
concentrated at Cap St Jacques; 40 soldiers from the 20th Indian Div-
ision had died and more than 100 had been wounded between October
and late January.110 It is estimated that more than 2,000 Viet Minh were
killed during the same period.111 Initially the 100th Indian Brigade was
assigned to support the French, but this was stopped in response to
political pressures in India and objections from Auchinleck and the
viceroy. The brigade left on two days, 8 and 9 February;112 over the

105
14/13th FFRiﬂes War Diary, Feb. 1946, WO 172/10272, NA.
106 107
Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 334. Dec. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.
108
See WO 172/7353 and WO 172/10060, NA, for more details of the 16th Light Calvary.
109
20th Indian Division HQ War Diary, Feb. 1946, WO 203/5995, NA.
110
The Indian Army continued to assess the morale of the troops overseas, due to the INA
trials and other potential threats. The intelligence reports generally indicated that
‘Indian troops in Indo-China [were] not showing much interest in political events in
India . . . [and] carrying out their duty as loyally as ever’: India Command Fortnightly
Intelligence Reports, 1946, No. 2. 20 Jan. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
111
Dunn, First Indo-China War, p. 341.
112
Dec. 1945, WO 172/7135, NA.

course of January and February close to 12,000 troops from the 20th
Indian Division withdrew from FIC.
The 9/12th FFR113 and 2/8th Punjab remained in FIC, the latter to
guard the mission in Saigon and the former to guard Cap St Jacques and
continue the repatriation of Japanese POWs. Both battalions served until
the end of March under the authority of Allied Commander’s Inter-
Service Liaison Mission to French Indo-China, under the command of a
British brigadier, F. K. S. Maunsell. Only small miscellaneous subunits
remained, including one company from 2/8th Punjab, until May 1946.114
Field Marshal Slim summed up the efforts of Gracey and the 20th
Indian Division as follows: ‘Gracey was faced with the most difﬁcult
politico-military situation in Allied territory, which he handled in a ﬁrm,
cool, and altogether admirable manner.’115 This assessment could serve
for the whole of the Indian Army’s performance in this campaign.

The Netherlands East Indies

As stated earlier, the operations in the Netherlands East Indies (NEI)

lasted longer than those in FIC. The deployment of Indian Army forces
also entailed close to three times the numbers,116 and the ﬁghting in the
NEI was far more costly.117 This was partially due to the quality of the
Indonesian nationalist forces and to the burden of carrying out duties
longer, because of the slow progress of arriving Dutch troops. The British
ofﬁcial historian, Maj. Gen. S. Woodburn Kirby, recalled that ‘They [the
Indonesian nationalists] proved to be fanatical opponents and capable of
fearful atrocities, as often as not against women and children.’118
As had already occurred in FIC, the Dutch colonial troops were not as
disciplined as their Indian Army counterparts; this created problems for
British commanders throughout the campaign.119 Another similarity

113
Condon notes an interesting aspect of the withdrawal of the 9/12th FFR in his book: ‘on
29th of March the battalion embarked at Cap St Jacques . . . Many Japanese senior
officers and men lined the route to say goodbye to the Battalion, and it was a curious, if
not pathetic, scene to find the very men who had fought against us so bitterly, now so
manifestly sorry to bid the Battalion farewell’ (Frontier Force Regiment, p. 513).
114 115
Dunn, First Indo-China War, pp. 355–6. Slim, Defeat into Victory, p. 532.
116
In the end, the 23rd, 26th, and 5th Indian Divisions and supporting elements were
deployed to the NEI.
117
More than 600 soldiers and officers were killed in Java and Sumatra, compared to just
over 40 in FIC: Kirby, War Against Japan, V, Appendix 31, p. 544.
118
Ibid., p. 307.
119
There are numerous references to issues with Dutch colonial troops, especially the
Ambonese. See Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 339, and McMillan, British Occupation
of Indonesia, p. 86, as quick references to the issues.

Map 4.2 Operations in Java 1945–1946

between the two operations was the loss of focus between developing the
grand strategic vision and carrying out actual operations on the ground,
due to a lack of clear direction from SEAC and London. Last but not
least, the duration of operations in the NEI enabled nationalists in India
to apply pressure to withdraw troops on both the viceroy, Lord Wavell,
and the CinCI, Gen. Auchinleck.120 Meanwhile, units and formations in
the NEI attempted to focus on their mission, in the midst of a large-scale
political debate that intensiﬁed with the ending of the INA trials in late
spring 1946.121
The Imperial Japanese Army and Navy did not openly support nation-
alist organisations during their occupation of the NEI during the Second
World War, but they gradually began to allow Indonesians access to
positions in government administration. The Indonesian nationalist
leader, Dr A. Soekarno or Sukarno, was allowed to create a movement
that opposed western inﬂuence and co-operated with the occupying
Japanese military authorities. From 1943, Indonesians were allowed

120
Just as the 23rd Indian Division was landing in Batavia in western Java, Wavell was
reporting to the secretary for India, Pethick-Lawrence, ‘The Nationalist papers are
taking much interest in the events in French Indo-China and Java. Some days ago
I telegraphed to Mountbatten pointing out to him the undesirability of using Indian
troops to deal with disturbances in eastern countries, and expressing the hope that they
might be disengaged as soon as possible’ (Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 9 Oct. 1945,
TOP, VI, 135, p. 323).
121
See Dennis, Troubled, for an in-depth discussion of the higher-level decision-making
throughout the whole campaign, and the many back-and-forth debates and planning
that occurred throughout this most difﬁcult campaign.

Figure 4.2 Indian troops take cover from Indonesian nationalists, 1945
© Imperial War Museums (Image No. SE 6799)

more of a voice in running their occupied territory, although there was no

question of outright independence. With the tide of war turning against
the Japanese in summer 1945, a meeting was held in Singapore to discuss
granting independence to the Indonesians, especially on the island of
Java. Events overtook the debate, and on 17 August Sukarno declared
independence for the NEI. The Japanese began to hand over adminis-
tration and dispense arms to the nationalists.122 By the end of August,
the Japanese had given up control of law and order, and had withdrawn
to camps to await the arrival of the Allies. They had also armed and
trained many nationalists, who took over the governance of much of Java,

122
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, pp. 309–10, and Dennis, Troubled, p. 81.

Figure 4.3 Indian troops identify mass graves in Java © Imperial War
Museums (Image No. CF 1279)

and who were openly opposed to the return of the Dutch colonial
authorities and prepared to ﬁght any landing of Dutch soldiers.
The ﬁrst intelligence reports on the Indonesian forces listed their
strength at seven divisions. Some of the divisions were of limited value,
but could operate as guerrilla bands. One division, stationed in eastern
Java, had been well trained by the Japanese and, equipped with tanks and
artillery, was prepared to oppose British operations in the area.123

123
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 312, and see Christison’s comments, ‘the one in East
Java is tough and well led’, in ‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 178,
IWM.

The intelligence picture of what was going on in Java was not clear to
SEAC. As Mountbatten noted: ‘I had been given no hint of the political
situation which had arisen in Java . . . Dr H. J. Van Mook [of the
Netherlands East Indies Provisional Government in Australia] had given
me no reason [to suppose] that reoccupation of Java would present any
operational problem, beyond that of rounding up the Japanese.’124
Lt Gen. Sir Philip Christison stated, ‘there was practically no Intelligence
about the state of affairs’.125 Reports came in throughout the month of
September about rising levels of violence against Dutch settlers and
potential colonial collaborators who were considered likely to support a
Dutch return. Elements of Force 136126 parachuted into Batavia on Java,
and the Royal Navy (RN) deployed a cruiser force to the area in early
September. The RN commander, Rear-Admiral W. R. Patterson, spe-
cifically warned on 18 September that Allied land forces were needed in
Batavia to avoid further violence and lawlessness. Gen. Slim, Com-
mander AFLSEA, ordered Fourteenth Army to release two brigades
from the 23rd Indian Division, then serving in Malaya, to deploy to
Batavia in the western part of Java and Sourabaya in the eastern section
of Java. The first brigade group sailed on 1 October.127
Intelligence was still sketchy in early October 1945, when Lt Gen.
Christison, commander of the XV Indian Corps, was appointed the
Commander Allied Forces Netherlands East Indies. When asked during
a press conference what sort of reception the Indian Army was likely to
receive, he indicated that he did not expect hostility, since the Indones-
ians liked the Dutch.128 This underestimation and lack of intelligence
were to pose a major hurdle throughout the campaign.
Campaign aims and strategy became muddled very early on: as had
already happened in Saigon, the intent of the mission did not align with
the expectations of Indonesian nationalists. Christison, ordered to pro-
ceed to Batavia immediately, was told initially to disarm the Japanese,
rescue Allied POWs and internees, and fill the vacuum between the
Japanese capitulation and the returning Dutch administration. This last
point proved, as it had in FIC, to be the most tricky and contentious.

124
Quoted in Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 311.
125
‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 175, IWM.
126
This was part of the British Special Operations Executive that had been working in
South East Asia throughout the war and had carried out sabotage and the raising of
local guerrilla forces to oppose the Japanese occupations.
127
A battalion of British troops and supporting Royal Marine troops arrived in Batavia on
28 September to prepare for reinforcements coming behind.
128
See ‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 176, IWM; and McMillan,
British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 16, for more details.

Figure 4.4 Indian troops in Sourabaya counter-attack © Imperial War

Museums (Image No. SE 5663)
Mountbatten attempted to limit this aspect of the mission to ‘key areas’,
intending that Indian divisions would occupy and administer key urban
areas only, maintaining law and order in the principal cities of Batavia
and Sourabaya on Java and Padang, Medan and Palembang on Sumatra.
The hinterland was to be the responsibility of the Dutch colonial admin-
istration and military. There would be some overlap, however, when
Dutch administrators and military moved through the secured ‘key areas’
of British control into the countryside.129

129
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 314, and McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia,
pp. 19–20. The British secretary of state for war, Jack Lawson, speciﬁcally stated to
Lt Gen. Christison, when they saw one another in Singapore, ‘that nothing should be
done to suggest your troops are going to re-impose Dutch Colonial rule. You must not
take sides.’ See ‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 176, IWM.

The operation’s lack of strategic focus was demonstrated in one

incident that took place around this time, and had long-term implica-
tions. Christison was ordered by the British secretary of war, Lawson, to
endeavour to bring the Indonesian nationalist leadership and the Dutch
together to find a political solution.130 Dr C. O. Van der Plas, deputy
governor of the NEI, who arrived in mid September with the RN, had
rebroadcast a message from the queen of the Netherlands from earlier in
the war,131 outlining advances in self-government. In response, Sukarno
sent a message to Christison, saying that he would support the Allied
mission, since it was not there to re-impose pre-war Dutch colonial
authority. Many moderates echoed this sentiment in indicating their
co-operation to Allied staff. This turn of events greatly angered the
Dutch authorities; they sent irate messages to Mountbatten and his staff,
accusing Christison of mediating on their behalf and of recognising the
Indonesian Republic as a legitimate entity. They also repudiated the
broadcast from Van der Plas. Within days, Sukarno contacted Christison
to advise that all co-operation would cease; that he would no longer try to
restrain the extremists in his organisation; that he would oppose any
Dutch landings; and that he and his supporters would fire on the British
if they were found to be covering the Dutch landings.132
Due to the large scale of this campaign and space considerations, this
chapter will focus primarily on the performance of Indian troops in Java,
on account of its critical role in the campaign’s progress and outcome.
(This is in no way intended to minimise either the difficulty of the
mission or the professional performance of the 26th Indian Division in
Sumatra.)133

130
See Dennis, Troubled, pp. 89–92, for details.
131
See Kirby, War Against Japan, V, Appendix 24, for a full transcript of the radio
message.
132
Ibid., pp. 315–16. Dennis, Troubled, deals with this issue in more detail. Mountbatten
was asking the Chiefs of Staff to support his push that the Dutch government needed to
be clear in their aims in the NEI, that negotiations should begin between the Dutch and
the Indonesian Republic. In the end, the Dutch responded and became more set in
their ways, presuming that they would dictate what was needed in the NEI and that the
British troops were there to maintain law and order until the Dutch forces arrived.
There was much tension and the issue would not be resolved until British and Indian
troops left later in the year. See Dennis, Troubled, pp. 92–6.
133
The occupation of the island of Sumatra followed a similar pattern to the occupation of
Java, focusing on the taking of key towns (Medan, Padang, and Palembang) in an
attempt to find Allied POWs. The 26th Indian Division arrived in late October 1945.
As with Java, there was a rising tide of tensions with the local Indonesian forces. By early
1946, the 15,000 men from the 26th Division were engaged with Indonesian forces. As
a former veteran stated, ‘The treacherous manner of their deaths [an Indian officer and
three jawans were ambushed] and the gruesome mutilations inflicted on their bodies set
the pattern of our dealing with them [the Indonesian fighters]. They simply became the

Western Java
The remainder of the 1st Indian Brigade, 23rd Indian Division, arrived
in Batavia by 5 October. The tactical HQ of the XV Corps (later Allied
Forces Netherlands East Indies) and 23rd Indian Division arrived on 6
October; the rest of the formation followed and were in place by the
10th.134 For the first few days, the units of the brigade were made
responsible for law and order and for guarding the internment camps.
The Indonesian police force was brought under British control.
Indonesian nationalists did not harass Indian and British forces at first,
although they did begin to establish roadblocks. It was noted that,
initially, British and Indian troops were able to visit cafes without
arms.135 On 10 October, the first violent engagements began between
Indonesians and British/Indian forces; from that day forward, daily
clashes were the norm.136
Similar issues arose in Batavia that 20th Indian Division troops had
already encountered in Saigon. First, Dutch nationals living in the area
began to make false reports of looting or armed Indonesian nationalists,
in order to force British/Indian forces to patrol constantly. Indian
battalions noted their frustration with this practice in their war diaries.137
Second, Dutch ‘Colonial Forces’ in the area, the Koninklijk Nederlands-
Indisch Leger (KNIL), were re-raised following the arrival of British
forces138 and quickly gained a reputation for lack of discipline and for
over-reaction. The British commanders recognised that the KNIL were
potentially a rallying point for the Indonesian nationalists. It was decided
to redeploy them to the southern sector of the city and put them under
Dutch command.139

enemy and we had a guerrilla war on our hands’ (McMillan, British Occupation of
Indonesia, p. 120). For a much wider discussion regarding the operations in Sumatra,
see the following: McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 113–37; Kirby, War
Against Japan, V, pp. 253–63; War Diaries of the 26th Indian Division, WO 172/7045
and WO 172/9893, NA; also ‘26th Indian Division in Sumatra’, WO 203/6160, NA;
various brigade and battalion war diaries from the division; and ‘Life and Times of
General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 176, IWM.
134
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 319.
135
‘At ﬁrst I ordered all troops not on duty to walk about and enter shops and pubs
unarmed and there was much camaraderie’ (‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip
Christison’, p. 180, IWM); McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 20–1.
136
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 321.
137
See War Diary of the Indian State Forces, 1st Patialas, Oct. 1945, WO 172/7827, NA,
and McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 22.
138
The KNIL recruited from two speciﬁc ethnic groups that were loyal and interested in
seeing the return of the Netherlands to the islands. In the end, they had much to lose
and wished to restore Indonesia to pre-war policies.
139
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 22–3.

British command soon discerned a need to extend its reach further into
the interior in order to safeguard the internment camps.140 In haste, a
company from the 1/16th Punjab Regiment deployed to the town of
Buitenzorg, a railway centre 100 miles to the south of Batavia. The decision
to extend the British area of administration necessitated additional
troops,141 whose arrival exacerbated growing tensions.142 Tactical intelli-
gence concerning numbers of internees and armed nationalists was lacking.
The company was to be relieved as quickly as possible by the arrival of
the 37th Indian Infantry Brigade. The 3/3rd Gurkhas arrived on 15 and
16 October, and were sent to Buitenzorg immediately as replacement
troops. Once established, the Gurkhas quickly identiﬁed an impending
humanitarian crisis, due to the larger than expected number of Allied
POWs and civilian internees in the area. Co-ordinating with Japanese
forces already stationed in the area, the Gurkhas undertook to maintain
law and order and evacuate the internees. Tensions continued to rise as
Indonesian extremists massacred hundreds of Eurasians. Gurkha forces
had to rely upon the moderate nationalist authorities for electricity and
water supplies, and continued, whatever else was happening, to carry out
patrols in order to rescue as many internees as possible and ship them
back to Batavia. Their mission continued through the end of 1945 and
into 1946, when the 1/16th Punjab returned to the area.143
While it appeared that most Japanese soldiers and ofﬁcers were
supportive of imposing law and order under the authority of British
and Indian forces,144 this was not always the case. As noted previously,

140
Lt Gen. Christison reported seeing paperback books showing white people and
Eurasians being tortured, dismembered, and killed; these were confirmed by reports
that came in each day: ‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 180, IWM.
141
Lord Pethick-Lawrence noted in a letter to Lord Wavell on 16 October 1945 that a
second Indian division was needed for Java and took priority over other areas, due to the
attitude of the Indonesian nationalists. See Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 16 Oct. 1945,
TOP, VI, 145, p. 346. Wavell, in responding to this request, highlighted significant
concerns about the level of strain under which the Indian Army was operating due to the
INA trials. He wrote: ‘I think it right to let you know privately that in my opinion loyalty
and discipline of the Indian Army may be subjected to severe strain owing to the
agitation about the INA demobilization. I think it is most important that we should
not add further strain of commitments in the Netherlands East Indies or French Indo-
China. I am sure you will appreciate this and do your best to resist employment of
additional Indian Divisions in Java’ (Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 17 Oct. 1945, L/WS/
1/726, OIOC, BL, and TOP, VI, 148, p. 360).
142
See War Diary of 1/16th Punjab Regiment, Oct. 1945, WO 172/7753, NA.
143
See War Diary of 3/3rd Gurkha Rifles, Oct.–Nov. 1945, WO 172/7775, NA, and
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 23–4.
144
One Japanese officer, Maj. Kido, who worked heavily with the Gurkhas in central Java,
was actually recommended for a British decoration, the Distinguished Service Order,
by Gen. Christison: McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 30.

some within the IJA had provided weapons and training to the Indones-
ian Republican forces before the British/Indian forces arrived. This did
not go unnoticed, and resulted in the arrest of Maj. Gen. Nakamura
Aketo, Japanese commander of all forces in central Java, along with some
of his HQ. They were shipped to Singapore for trial, accused of disobey-
ing their orders to surrender.145
The 3/5th Royal Gurkhas were sent to Bandoeng in October 1945, and
almost immediately began active patrolling against insurgents in and
around the area to liberate as many internees and POWs as possible.
The 3/5th Gurkhas had less difﬁculty re-establishing law and order, due
to the fact that Japanese forces, obeying orders, took back the town from
the extremists.146 Japanese forces in the area supported the Gurkhas in
their efforts to create a bubble of security in and around the town, and
Japanese tanks were used to destroy roadblocks and extremist positions
that threatened the mission.147

Central Java
The lack of accurate intelligence within SEAC about numbers of camps
and internees in the areas targeted for occupation was conclusively
demonstrated by the campaign to land troops in Semarang. Originally,
operations in central Java were not a priority: Sourabaya in the east was
supposed to be the second major operational area for XV Corps. As with
the rest of the operation, there were minimal forces available for the
mission. The 3/10th Gurkhas from the 37th Brigade were re-embarked
on transports and shipped to Semarang, 250 miles east of Batavia, in
response to reports of fighting between nationalists and Japanese, with
many internees still in camps, needing to be rescued.148 On 19 October,
the battalion landed in an almost deserted harbour; as they moved into
the city they could hear sporadic gunfire, and were shortly fired upon
themselves. In the aftermath, Indonesian nationalist officials came to
claim that the firing had come from Japanese soldiers, while the apolo-
getic Japanese commander characterised the incident as fighting that had
erupted between insurgents and Japanese troops, resulting in a mistaken
attack on the Gurkhas.149

145 146
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 321. Doulton, Fighting Cock, p. 246.
147
See War Diary of 3/5th Gurkha Rifles, Oct.–Nov. 1945, WO 172/7779, NA, and
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 25–6.
148
The battalion was specifically ordered to maintain law and order and not to take sides in
any political matters. See War Diary of 3/10th Gurkha Rifles, Nov. 1945, WO 172/
7792, NA, and McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 27.
149
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 320.

Japanese troops in the area had been stationed to the south near
some of the large internment camps in Ambarawa and Magelang. The
Japanese commander had decided to move towards Semarang in an
attempt to re-impose order, but had found his unit repeatedly engaging
with insurgents. The Japanese helped the Gurkhas to re-establish control
inside Semarang and to escort small detachments to Ambarawa and
Magelang to support the feeding and repatriation of the Allied POWs
and civilian internees.150
It was clear that the 3/10th Gurkhas could not hold the areas for which
they had been given responsibility, and the decision was made to send the
Third Brigade, the Royal Artillery Brigade, which had close to two
battalions of infantry, to support the Gurkhas. Troops began arriving
on 22 October. Upon arriving in Semarang, the 3/10th Gurkhas were
ordered to move the whole battalion to Magelang. The battalion lacked
transport and had to fight their way through numerous roadblocks. As
the Gurkhas arrived, close to 5,000 extremists attacked their positions,
bolstered by artillery and mortars. Japanese forces in the area came once
again to support the Gurkhas; after a few days of heavy fighting, members
of the Indonesian Republican government sought to negotiate a truce.
After a series of talks, it was agreed that as soon as the British had
gathered up all the internees and POWs in the area, they would withdraw
back to Semarang. In the end, more than 2,500 internees were evacuated
and the British withdrew from Magelang on 21 November.151
The extremists were slowly gathering strength as British and Indian
forces began to withdraw from parts of central Java. Gurkhas, Japanese,
and internees arriving from Magelang into Ambarawa witnessed chaos.
While there had been a ceasefire in effect in Magelang, it was constantly
being violated. As the Gurkhas and the internees moved towards and into
Ambarawa, they had to fight their way through a series of roadblocks and
ambushes.152 The RAF was being used to destroy Indonesian positions,
including artillery positions, which were bombarding the British lines.
One internee camp was attacked and many British troops and women
and children were killed. Allied Forces Netherlands East Indies (AFNEI)
began to pull the 23rd Indian Division back towards Batavia and central
Java, after the heavy fighting in Sourabaya and the arrival of more Indian
Army reinforcements.153

150
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 26.
151
War Diary of 3/10th Gurkhas, Nov.–Dec. 1945, WO 172/7792, NA; McMillan, British
Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 27–8; and Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 336.
152
War Diary of 3/10th Gurkhas, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7792, NA, and Kirby, War Against
Japan, V, p. 337.
153
See pp. 185–92 for more discussion of the ﬁghting in eastern Java, at Sourabaya.

On 27 November, elements of the 49th Brigade arrived and pushed

out towards Ambarawa, to support the withdrawal of Gurkhas and
internees to Semarang. British and Indian troops began to evacuate
POWs and internees to Semarang; they completed this task on 8
December, and pulled out of Ambarawa a week later.154 As reinforce-
ments began to arrive in Semarang and the withdrawal from Ambarawa
began, Indonesian insurgents closed in on Semarang. Violence in and
around the town began to increase during mid November. Some of the
ﬁghting became so intense that naval gunﬁre support was called in. As
at Semarang, the brigade was reinforced with troops from Ambarawa,
and elements of 49th Brigade began to sweep the areas around the
town, clearing out large numbers of insurgents.155 On 11 January
1946, the 5th Parachute Brigade arrived to relieve the 49th Brigade,
who then proceeded to move to Batavia to the west, where the 23rd
Indian Division was concentrating its brigades. The 5th Parachute
Brigade remained in Semarang for just over a month, until additional
Dutch forces arrived and were able to take over responsibility.156

Eastern Java
Before considering the difficult campaign in eastern Java, in and around
Sourabaya, it is necessary to provide a general picture of the 23rd Indian
Division as of October 1945. The AFNEI and 23rd Indian Divisional
HQ, along with the 1st Indian Brigade and the 37th Indian Infantry
Brigade, were in the west, in the Batavia-Buitenzorg-Bandoeng area;
the divisional troops or the Royal Artillery Brigade were in and around
the Semarang-Ambarawa-Magelang area in central Java. There was
continuous fighting in and around the British/Indian formations. Over
the course of October and November, fighting increased in severity in
some locations. Royal Navy ships were brought in to provide naval
gunfire support. British and Indian forces did their best to track down
and evacuate all Allied POWs and civilian internees, rounding up
thousands and pulling them back to various harbours for repatriation.157
The last remaining brigade from the 23rd Indian Division, the 49th
Indian Infantry Brigade, under the command of Brig. A. W. S. Mallaby,
were ordered to land at Sourabaya, in eastern Java. They arrived on

154
War Diary of 49th Indian Infantry Brigade, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7108, NA, and
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 28–9.
155
War Diary of 49th Indian Infantry Brigade, Dec. 1945, WO 172/7108, NA, and Kirby,
War Against Japan, V, pp. 338–9.
156
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 339, and Dennis, Troubled, p. 189.
157
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, pp. 321–2.

25 October, encountering some of the best armed and trained Indones-

ian nationalist forces operating in the NEI. Lt Gen. Nagano Yuichiro,
commander of the IJA 16th Army, reported to Gen. Christison that ‘We
have been training 7 divisions of Indonesian soldiers who never saw the
Dutch. Most of these divisions are not formidable but the one in East
Java is tough and well led. They will give you much trouble.’158 The
practice of deploying a brigade into a volatile area of operations was not
new either to the 23rd Indian Division or to Christison, but eastern Java
was a different matter. It rapidly became clear to SEAC that more troops
would be necessary. On 17 October, even before the 49th Brigade had
arrived in Sourabaya, more units, including Indian cavalry regiments,
had been requested from Malaya and other regions to support the
overstretched 23rd Indian Division. By the end of October, two brigades
from the 5th Indian Division159 were also en route to Java to provide
additional support.160
Brig. Mallaby and his 49th Indian Brigade were ordered to carry out
the same mission as other brigades and units: evacuate internees and
disarmed Japanese military personnel, and maintain law and order.161
The possibility of re-establishment of Dutch control was not speciﬁcally
discussed with Indonesian Republicans at any point in the campaign.
Upon their arrival into the harbour of Sourabaya, brigade staff noted
the number of ‘hostiles’ in and around the area, and the British sent
two ofﬁcers to arrange to meet with Dr Moestopo (commander of the
Indonesian (Japanese-trained and -equipped) Republican Army), the

158
For more details regarding the conversation with Christison, see ‘Life and Times of
General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 178, IWM.
159
The dispatch of the 5th Indian Division caused much anger in New Delhi, as
Auchinleck was under more and more pressure not to use ‘Indian troops’ in the NEI
and FIC. He asked for the British 2nd Division to be sent, but Mountbatten over-ruled
him, saying that the division was not ready and that he needed troops right away. See
Dennis, Troubled, pp. 121–3.
160
Brett-James, Ball of Fire, p. 451, and Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 322.
161
McMillan goes into some detail regarding Mallaby’s background and friction with his
second-in-command, Col L. H. O. Pugh. Brig. Mallaby had spent most of the Second
World War as a staff officer, serving as a major general as the director of Military
Operations at GHQ India. He dropped a rank to brigadier to command the 49th
Brigade as it prepared for the final push against the Japanese. Col Pugh had a
distinguished career as a commander during the Burma campaign, winning the DSO
and Bar. He commanded the 33rd Indian Infantry Brigade in 1944 and 1945. It appears
that, with the reshuffling of the commands at the end of the war, Pugh became a
second-in-command and a colonel once again, with Mallaby as his commander.
According to many sources, the two men were completely different, Mallaby ‘more
relaxed’ and Pugh ‘a bit of a fire eater’. This apparently created significant friction, and
the two men were barely speaking to one another by the time the brigade landed. See
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 33–4, for more details.

Tentara Keamanan Rakyat (TKR), and Dr Soerio (Indonesian governor

of East Java). Tensions were high; Moestopo wanted to kill the small
British delegation and throw their bodies into the harbour, while the
British officers insisted that they had come in peace, and Soerio tried to
act as mediator. Mallaby’s staff received a signal not to land troops
without Moestopo’s permission, but Brig. Mallaby and his staff made it
clear that they were not going to wait for permission to land troops. The
British and Indian forces landed with fixed bayonets and loaded
weapons, and began to seize key areas of the harbour and town. This
bold action initially appeared to pay off as the Indonesians sent a small
delegation to meet with Mallaby and his staff regarding arrangements
for the future.162 By this point, the British were in control of the port
and most of the facilities, but not the power station and one of the
key bridges.163
In the first round of talks, the British stressed that they had come to
evacuate internees and maintain law and order, not to interfere in the
internal politics of Indonesia. They also confirmed that there were no
Dutch officials serving on brigade staff. A meeting between Moestopo
and Mallaby on 26 October focused on the issues of arming and
disarming the civilian population. Mallaby and Moestopo agreed that
Indonesian uniformed soldiers and police were to remain armed, and
carry out law-and-order operations alongside British and Indian forces.
Armed civilians, meanwhile, were to be disarmed.164 The Indonesians
remained suspicious and continued to insist on British confirmation that
no Dutch were to be landed. The British and the Indonesians moved
quickly to set up boundaries of areas of responsibility and arrangements
for internees to be processed.165
What happened next highlighted the disconnect between orders eman-
ating from SEAC and 23rd Divisional HQ and the situation on the
ground. On the morning of the 27th, an RAF Dakota transport flew over
the town and dropped leaflets; this was part of an RAF operation that had
been going on for several weeks, moving from the western part of Java to
the east. The problem was that the leaflets did not account for any
changes to the environment on the ground: they stated that the British
Military Administration would supersede the Indonesian Republican
government in the area and, more crucially, that all arms were to be

162
See War Diary of 49th Indian Infantry Brigade, WO 172/7108, NA, and McMillan,
British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 37.
163
Dennis, Troubled, p. 123.
164
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 38–9.
165
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 323.

surrendered and that anyone bearing arms illegally would be shot by

British and Indian troops. Many Indonesian nationalists considered
this high-handed, and that they had been ‘duped’ by the British. This
failure to communicate essentially negated all the hard work that had
been done on the 26th. Moestopo met with Mallaby, but there was no
consensus on what the future held. Mallaby did assert that he had not
been made aware that the leaflets were going to be dropped, but also
confirmed that he was obligated to follow the orders of his superior
officer, Maj. Gen. D. C. Hawthorn from the 23rd Indian Division.166
As a result, negotiations broke down.
On 29 October Indonesian forces, supported by artillery and tanks,
attacked all the British and Indian positions in and around Soura-
baya,167 as well as internees’ camps and convoys. Hundreds were killed,
and several British officers and Indian VCOs were caught, tortured, and
killed, and their bodies mutilated. Some British and Indian positions
ran out of ammunition and were over-run and massacred by Indonesian
forces. It is estimated that the 4,000 British and Indian forces stationed
in the area were attacked by 20,000 armed soldiers of the TKR and
supported by another 14,000 armed civilians.168 The intensity of the
fighting is best conveyed by an officer from the division: ‘49 Bde were
fighting for their lives and for the lives of the internees they had come to
protect, with the odds weighed heavily against them . . . [T]here had
been no time to move up reserves of ammunition and food which lay
useless in the docks . . . [F]ight they did with magnificent gallantry – in
some cases until their ammunition was gone . . . [T]here were desperate
battles all over town.’169 The Brigade HQ sustained more than 25 per
cent casualties, and two platoons of the Rajputana Rifles were wiped out
to the last man.170 It was estimated that the Indonesians lost close to
6,000 men.171

166
See ibid., pp. 323–4, Dennis, Troubled, pp. 123–4, and McMillan, British Occupation of
Indonesia, pp. 39–41, for more details. McMillan goes into detail about the disconnect
between Brig. Mallaby and Maj. Gen. D. C. Hawthorn and the ‘glossing over’ of the
leaflets by the divisional historian, Lt Col Doulton, in Fighting Cock.
167
McMillan goes into some detail, stating that Mallaby did not reposition his forces to
deal with a potential outbreak of violence and many officers did not understand why he
did nothing to deal with a potential attack. See the comments in McMillan, British
Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 41–4, especially the comments from the CO of 4/5th
Mahratta Light Infantry.
168
McMillan gives quite a bit of detail of the fighting and the loss of life: British Occupation
of Indonesia, pp. 43–5. See also the war diaries of 49th Indian Infantry Brigade for more
details.
169
Doulton, Fighting Cock, p. 255.
170
War Diary of 5/6 Rajputana Rifles, Nov. 1945, WO 172/7709, NA.
171
Brett-James, Ball of Fire, p. 450.

Mountbatten sent Sukarno to Sourabaya to broker a ceaseﬁre.

Sukarno met with Mallaby and members of the Indonesian Republican
government, and succeeded in doing so. On 30 October, Gen. Hawthorn
arrived to meet with Sukarno and Mallaby; he ordered the brigade to pull
back to positions in the harbour, take the airfield, and maintain some
positions in the south, where there were internees, while the Indonesians
held the city. Sukarno agreed to this plan, and he and Hawthorn flew
back to Batavia. However, fighting broke out afresh within twenty-four
hours; moderate voices in the Indonesian government were sidelined by
extremists, who called for attacking British and Indian troops in and
around Sourabaya, disregarding the orders of Sukarno.172
The almost immediate return to open warfare was partially due to
the fact that many Indonesians believed that the British had caved in
and surrendered. As a result, several units and subunits were caught
inside the city; one company from the 6/5th Mahrattas, tasked
with defending the International Bank Building, were ordered by the
Indonesians to surrender their weapons. They refused and fighting
erupted.
Not only was Mallaby unsuccessful in his attempts to negotiate an end
to the fighting, two of his officers who had been working with Sukarno
and attempting to negotiate a ceasefire were captured; they were killed
and their bodies were mutilated. Mallaby and some of his staff returned
to Bank Square in another attempt to end the fighting; they were
ambushed and the brigadier was killed on 30 October.173
The actions of the Indonesian forces in Sourabaya further exacerbated
problems in other parts of Java. The 3/10th Gurkhas encountered diffi-
culties at Magelang, and withdrew to Semarang at the end of November.
Tensions continued to rise in Batavia, and in eastern Java the Indonesian
extremists demanded that the 49th Brigade in Sourabaya lay down
their arms. The brigade had pulled back to a smaller perimeter that had
been agreed before Mallaby’s death; internees were evacuated, and a
limited ceasefire prevailed for the first few days of November.174 Gen.
Christison issued a warning to all Indonesian extremists that ‘unless
those responsible for Mallaby’s murder were handed over, [he] would
bring the whole weight of [his] land, sea and air forces to bear on
Surabaya’.175 Royal Navy ships arrived into the Sourabaya harbour to

172
See Kirby, War Against Japan, V, pp. 324–5, Dennis, Troubled, p. 124, and McMillan,
British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 46–8.
173
See McMillan’s very detailed and important analysis of this episode in British
Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 48–50.
174
Ibid., pp. 51–2.
175
‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 185, IWM.

add support to the besieged 49th Brigade. During this period, some
captured British and Indian troops were returned to the Brigade HQ.176
On 2 and 3 November, the 9th and 123rd Indian Infantry Brigades, from
the 5th Indian Division, began disembarking in Sourabaya as reinforce-
ments for the 49th Brigade. The concentration of the two brigades was kept
secret, and the 49th Brigade continued to hold the new perimeter.177
Maj. Gen. E. C. Mansergh, a highly respected divisional commander
from the Burma campaign, assumed command of the three brigades in
Sourabaya. Mansergh attempted to meet with moderates in Sourabaya on
7 November, in order to find a political solution. However, it rapidly
became clear to divisional staff that the extremists were in charge and
thought they were winning.178 An ultimatum was delivered that the crim-
inals involved in the killing of Mallaby and other British and Indian officers
and men were to be handed over to British authorities. By 9 November, the
two brigades had completed their disembarkation and were ready for
offensive operations. On the same day, leaflets were dropped stating that
the British were going to take action against the extremists in the town, and
that no political settlement would be forthcoming.179
Meanwhile, opposition and tension in New Delhi were steadily
increasing. On 7 November, Wavell telegraphed Pethick-Lawrence,
warning that ‘serious repercussions likely to arise here [in India] if Indian
troops are used to suppress Indonesian movement and reinstate the
Dutch’.180 Pethick-Lawrence responded on 11 November that ‘the pos-
ition we have to deal with is one of extreme difficulty . . . [O]ur object has
throughout been to avoid being involved in any hostilities with the
Indonesians . . . [T]o abandon Java might lead to much wider withdraw-
als, facing us with serious loss of prestige in Malaya and Burma and
leading to similar troubles there.’181

176 177
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 328. Brett-James, Ball of Fire, p. 452.
178
The CO of the Dogra Machine Gun Battalion, Lt Col Bristow, noted this in his
recollection of the arrival of 5th Indian Division. See his Memories, p. 139. Bristow
would later witness the carnage of the Punjab in 1947 as one of the Punjab Boundary
Force brigadiers.
179
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 55; Brett-James, Ball of Fire, pp. 452–3;
War Diaries of 9th Indian Infantry Brigade, WO 172/7085, and 123rd Indian Infantry
Brigade, WO 172/7138, both NA.
180
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 7 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/727, OIOC, BL, and TOP, VI, 198,
p. 460.
181
Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 11 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/727, OIOC, BL, and TOP, VI,
206, pp. 474–5. Wavell responded on 27 November to Pethick-Lawrence, stating ‘The
INA trials have been embarrassing, but I think the use of Indian troops in Java and
French Indo-China is more damaging in the long run because the case against it is, from
the Indian point of view, almost a cast-iron one’ (Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 27 Nov.
1945, TOP, VI, 246, p. 555).

At the same time, the 5th Indian Division was poised to mount a major
offensive in Sourabaya, with Gen. Mansergh and his staff making plans to
seize back the town and gain access to the nearby internee camps. When
the ultimatum regarding the handover of those who had killed Mallaby
and other British and Indian personnel went unanswered, the order was
given to move into the city. The offensive to take back the town began
early on the morning of 10 November;182 British and Indian troops were
attacked almost immediately by a considerable Indonesian force, sup-
ported by artillery and surrendered Japanese tanks. Within a few hours it
was clear that the troops would need more support,183 and both naval
gunfire and RAF air cover were provided as British and Indian troops
fought their way back into the town against stiff and heavy opposition.
Both artillery and naval gunfire support were to be used only when
needed, in an attempt to avoid too much damage, and tank support
could be used only with the permission of the divisional commander.184
Taking back Sourabaya was a slow and bloody process;185 the town
was not cleared until 29 November, and even then sporadic fighting and
house searches continued and the town was not declared fully secure
until late December.186 By the end of November, British and Indian
troops had suffered more than 800 casualties, including just under 100
killed, but had also recorded nearly 200 personnel missing.187
While the 5th Indian Division was occupied in Sourabaya, tensions in
New Delhi were increasing. A report submitted on 1 December by the
Chiefs of Staff Committee described the internal situation in India.
While the report discussed communal violence, anti-government
activities, INA trials, and caches of unlicensed arms, it also focused on
the ‘effect of the political situation on the Armed Forces’, indicating that
the INA trials had affected morale among army personnel. It went on to
express even greater concern over the continuing involvement of the
Indian Army in FIC and the NEI, noting that ‘Congress may intensify
the present campaign against the use of the Indian troops in NEI and

182
Indonesians would refer to this as ‘Heroes’ Day’ from 1945 onwards.
183
Doulton, Fighting Cock, p. 265.
184
McMillan (British Occupation of Indonesia) makes the point that the British did not
bombard the city at will, as is claimed by some; this is conﬁrmed in both the 5th Indian
Division and 13th Lancers war diaries, WO 172, NA. See also Brett-James, Ball of Fire,
pp. 456–7, and ‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 186, IWM.
185
Lt Col Bristow of the Dogra Machine Gun Battalion recalled that ‘clearing the town
street by street was a slow and costly operation which last[ed] 19 days’: Memories,
p. 139.
186
Dennis, Troubled, p. 126; McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 54–7; Kirby,
War Against Japan, V, pp. 333–6.
187
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 336.

FIC and thus attempt to suborn the army. This campaign in [the] long
run [could] have even more dangerous effects than the INA campaign as
it will be based on the accusation that the troops are mercenaries.’188
The units and formations of the 5th Indian Division (the 49th Indian
Brigade having moved back to Semarang and then on to Batavia in late
November to consolidate all of the 23rd Indian Division in one area) set
out to continue in their mission of repatriation of internees and surren-
dered Japanese soldiers throughout the last months of 1945 and into
early 1946. The British and Indians commanded the town and continued
forays into the countryside to disrupt any build-up of Indonesian forces;
the resulting actions employed more guerrilla tactics than before. British
and Indian troops successfully foiled all Indonesian attempts at seizing
key locations in and around the town.
Gen. Mansergh and his divisional staff set up a military government
and began to lay the foundations of a civil administration, including
police, law, education, and broadcasting. Dutch troops began to arrive
in early February 1946, and the divisional staff began the handover
process. On 23 April 1946, Mansergh left the division to take up the
command position of GOC Allied Land Forces Netherlands East Indies.
The various brigades began to withdraw by sea from Sourabaya in April,
and the handover of control to the Dutch was completed on 8 May.189

End of British/Indian involvement and re-institution

of Dutch authority
Fighting intensiﬁed in western Java in late November and December
1945 as the British/Indian offensive in Sourabaya continued. The
extremists made a concerted effort to sever communications between
Batavia and Bandoeng during this period; however, as more and more
British/Indian units from central and eastern Java made their way back to

188
The report went on to say, ‘our action in Java and French Indo-China is already being
represented as European repression of national risings of Eastern peoples. If this is made
a major political issue as is likely, it may have a serious effect upon the loyalty of the
Indian Armed Forces’: ‘Internal Situation in India’, 1 Dec. 1945, L/WS/1/1008, OIOC,
BL, and TOP, VI, 256, pp. 576–83. This report appeared to have some impact on the
decision-makers in London. As Pethick-Lawrence stated to Wavell on 16 December
1945, ‘in the meantime both I and [Gen. Sir Ashton Gerard Oswald Mosley] Mayne
[military secretary to the India Ofﬁce], who was at the meeting [meeting with the Chiefs
of Staff in London] gave very strong expression to your views and to those of the
Commander-in-Chief. I think that partly as a result of our representations it is now
unlikely that a third Indian division will be sent to Java. This though it by no means
meets Indian views entirely will at least not add seriously to the already grave position’
(Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 16 Dec. 1945, TOP, VI, 273, p. 618).
189
Brett-James, Ball of Fire, pp. 463–5.

Batavia (during consolidation of the 23rd Indian Division), pressure on

the British began to decrease. As 1946 began, it was clear that the
situation in Java had changed. British and Indian troops had secured
Sourabaya and its environs; they had been successful in extricating
numerous internees and Japanese POWs from central Java; and they
were consolidating forces in Batavia and in the western interior.190
At the end of 1945, a meeting was held in Singapore to discuss the
current and future situation in the area. Lt Gen. Christison sent a staff
officer, a lieutenant colonel, to present on the final plans to deal with
extremists in western Java to Lord Mountbatten and Lord Alanbrooke,
chief of the Imperial General Staff. In discussing the possibility of casu-
alties, Mountbatten made a specific request that Indian troops be used,
saying that he did not want to see British wives widowed so long after the
war’s official end. The lieutenant colonel, greatly angered and offended
by this, responded, ‘Sir, do you really think it is different if Mrs Poop
Singh is made a widow?’191
Just as the fighting in most of Java, where the British and Indians were
stationed, began to die down, political pressure in New Delhi heightened
once again. Wavell and Auchinleck let it be known that they were under
intense pressure from the Indian National Congress and other national-
ists to withdraw Indian troops from both FIC and the NEI. Pethick-
Lawrence wrote to Prime Minister Attlee, emphasising the need for an
early withdrawal from both places and noting that ‘motions of protest’
had been tabled in the Indian Assembly to oppose the employment of
Indian troops in both locations, especially Java. Wavell, seconded by
Pethick-Lawrence, asked for a specific withdrawal date to offset the
motions that were to be debated on 21 January.192 The discussion was
picked up by the Chiefs of Staff in London and the prime minister; they
expressed resistance to Lord Wavell making such a definitive announce-
ment, and indicated that they were concerned about the impact of such a
declaration on the talks that were continuing between the Dutch and the

190
See Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 341, Dennis, Troubled, pp. 190–1, and McMillan,
British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 61.
191
‘Life and Times of General Sir Philip Christison’, p. 188, IWM.
192
See TOP, VI, 341 and 342, pp. 750–1, for more information. Also refer to Mss Eur
D714/72, OIOC, BL. The terms of the motion were as follows: ‘to discuss a speciﬁc and
urgent matter of public importance, namely the using of Indian troops in the
bombardment on the 10th of November and succeeding days of 1945 of Surabaya . . .
the sending of Indian troops to Indonesia to aid the British in their operations against
the Indonesian struggle for independence . . . to censure the GOI for permitting the use
of Indian troops in Indonesia and Indo-China to suppress National Government
there and to re-establish the Imperialist hold of the European powers’ (TOP, VI, 364,
pp. 811–12).

Indonesians. They agreed to meet again on 18 January, to see if there was

a way for the viceroy to ‘make a less categorical statement’.193
Wavell and his staff drafted a potential response to the motion that they
anticipated in the Indian assembly: it emphasised ‘the task [of the Indian
divisions] of disarming, concentrating and evacuating the Japanese in the
Netherlands East Indies and of rescuing Allied prisoners of war and
internees. Political tranquility is essential to the successful accomplish-
ment of this task . . . [I]t is the intention of the British government to
withdraw British and Indian troops as soon as their tasks have been
fulfilled.’194
The fighting in FIC generated considerably less outcry in New Delhi.
This was partially due to the smaller number of troops involved and the
quicker withdrawal of the 20th Indian Division; the fighting in Java
involved more troops and a longer handover. In addition to these logis-
tical differences, the Indian nationalists perceived the Indian divisions in
Java as more aggressive and inflicting more damage; they cited the attack
on Sourabaya in particular as motivating ‘motions’ that they were
planning to bring forward.195 The response from HMG in London –
over-ruling the objections of the viceroy, the commander-in-chief, India,
and Pethick-Lawrence – indicated to many that the balance of power had
not shifted from London, and that the voice of moderation in New Delhi
had no real authority to stop the deployment or use of Indian troops in
the NEI and FIC.
As of February 1946, large-scale violence had lessened significantly,
but sniping, looting, and murder continued. AFNEI had been forced
to redeploy forces in and around Java as the Dutch began to arrive to
take over;196 the 23rd Indian Division had consolidated outside Batavia
and was attempting to control lines of communications into the interior
and the key towns of Bandoeng and Buitenzorg.197 There was some
serious fighting in mid March, but units of the 23rd Indian Division,
notably the 1st Patialas (Indian State Forces), were able to control the

193 194
TOP, VI, 348, minute four, p. 764. TOP, VI, 368, Annex 1, 18 Jan., p. 819.
195
See n. 192 for details of the speciﬁc parts of the motion.
196
See Dennis, Troubled, and McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, for an in-depth
discussion of the many layers of negotiations, relations, and planning for Dutch Army
troops to return to the NEI and their takeover of the British and Indian positions in Java
and NEI as a whole.
197
The 1/16th Punjabis described the mission thus: ‘the main tasks at Buitenzorg were the
maintenance of road communications up to the Poentijak Pass on the Bandoeng road,
and the preservation of law and order in the surrounding country. During the following
three months [February–May] frequent clashes with bands of extremists took place.’
See Lt Col J. P. Lawford, Solah Punjab: The History of the 16th Punjab Regiment
(Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1967), p. 235; see also WO 172/10280, NA.

situation.198 Over the next months, British and Indian troops pulled
back to Batavia as more and more Dutch troops came in to take over
their positions. The 50th Indian Tank Brigade and 161st Indian Infan-
try Brigade (5th Indian Division) remained in Batavia, and the 5th
Parachute Brigade held Semarang in central Java until the Dutch
relieved them in the second half of February. Two brigades from the
5th Indian Division stayed in Sourabaya until April. British and Indian
forces did not control much outside the coastal enclaves in central and
eastern Java, but in western Java they did control portions of the
interior. Throughout this period, and until the last British and Indian
troops withdrew, they continued to undertake the withdrawal of Japan-
ese soldiers, sailors, and airmen, as well as the rescue of Allied civilian
and military internees.199
The year 1946 also brought major changes in the command structure.
On 1 February, Christison was sent home to the UK to take up Northern
Command; he was replaced first by Lt Gen. Sir Montagu Stopford as
GOC ALFNEI and later, in April, by the recently promoted Mansergh,
from the 5th Indian Division. Mountbatten was replaced on 1 June as
commander SEAC by Stopford, who was made acting commander of
ALFSEA.200 By summer 1946, the 23rd Indian Division was the last
formation left in Java. The division was withdrawn in four stages,
throughout October and November, coinciding with the departure of
the 26th Indian Division from Sumatra. With the final Indian divisions
evacuated from the NEI, both SEAC and ALFSEA ceased to exist as of
midnight on 30 November 1946.201
Final counts for British and Indian units show approximately 600
killed, 1,400 wounded, and 320 missing during the thirteen months of
operations in Java.202 The number of missing is the total from both the
23rd and the 5th Indian Divisions, and records indicate that some of
these soldiers were deserters. Attempts by Indonesian nationalists
to subvert the authority of the Indian and British commanders, and to
entice Muslim soldiers to desert to their cause, have been documented.
Col W. E. H. Condon, writing the 13th Frontier Force Rifles’ regimental
history, refers to this: discussing the role of the 8/13th FFRifles, working
in and around Buitenzorg, in Java, under the command of the 36th
Indian Infantry Brigade (Separate), he writes that

198
See war diary of the 1st Patialas, Apr. 1946, WO 172/10343, NA, as well as Doulton,
Fighting Cock, pp. 294–9.
199
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 342; McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 90–9.
200 201
Kirby, War Against Japan, V, p. 348. Ibid., p. 374.
202
Ibid., p. 351.

service in Java, coming as it did after a World War when all were hoping for
release, put a very great strain on discipline and esprit de corps. Indeed, it would be
difficult to find a situation containing more temptations to a soldier or a role
calling for the use of more tact, patience and self-control. It is only fair to record
that the conduct of the 8th Battalion was such that it was held up as an example to
other troops in Java. General Stopford, in a letter . . . circulated to all units on 6th
March [1946] . . . that the checking of the increase in desertion and preventable
disease was a matter of unit discipline and esprit de corps.203
The senior staff at both India Command and SEAC continued the
practice of assessing the morale of the Indian Army troops throughout
the FIC and NEI campaigns, as they had during the Second World War
and INA trials. War diaries and intelligence assessments make frequent
reference to the impact of the mission and the INA trials on the Indian
jawans. The reporting diverged in many ways: some accounts indicate
that Indian troops watched the INA trials with much interest,204 while
others note a complete lack of interest,205 citing instead requests from the
troops for information about rainfall and crops at home as well as their
future prospects in the army.206 Of the 45,000 fighting men who served
in the NEI, some 700 soldiers did desert, representing about 1.6 per cent
of the total force. As Richard McMillan has noted, ‘the rate of desertion
on both Java and Sumatra was small and can in no way have affected the
operational effectiveness of the Army of occupation’.207

203
W. E. H. Condon, The Frontier Force Rifles (Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1953), p. 352. It
must be noted that the battalion served with the 26th Indian Division in Burma, and
had been on home leave since May when it was called up again and shipped to Java in
November 1945. Interestingly, the battalion was commended for its morale; this could
easily have been otherwise, given that the men had been on home leave already.
204
See war diaries of 1st Indian Infantry Brigade, Feb. 1946, WO 172/9909, NA,
discussing the 1/16th Punjabis; see also McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia,
p. 155.
205
See War Diaries of 37th Indian Infantry Brigade, Jun. 1946, WO 172/9932, NA; see
also McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, p. 155.
206
See intelligence reports dealing with morale in L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL, as well as
Intelligence Reports, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL, for the end of 1945 and first half of
1946, which highlight the issues of family, crops, and the future, more than duties in
FIC, NEI, or the impact of the INA trials. Examples of such reporting include a report
from January 1946, stated that ‘morale of the Indian Army is at a high level . . . Indian
troops are rightly proud of the part played in the campaigns in this theatre [SEAC] and
it is often felt that not enough publicity has been given to their achievements’ (L/MIL/
17/5/4276, OIOC, BL).
207
McMillan, British Occupation of Indonesia, pp. 159–60. See his whole chapter,
pp. 138–64, for more in-depth discussion of issues, especially within the Mahratta
Light Infantry. The two Mahratta Light Infantry battalions, 49th Brigade, recorded
quite a few desertions; but it must be remembered that these two battalions,
outnumbered and lacking ammunition to hold their positions, suffered heavily during
the early stages of the fighting in Sourabaya. One significant cause that McMillan did
not discuss, but which came up at times in the Second World War, was weak

In both FIC and the NEI, British and Indian Army units were dropped
into a difficult political situation, and left to contend with a muddled and
shifting strategy. Despite this, as the 23rd Indian divisional history stated:
‘We came to Java as soldiers, as soldiers we went away, and we cherished
the thought that in performing our duty with steadfast courage and
disciplined restraint we had played our part in averting what was so
nearly a great human tragedy and had, perhaps, helped bring peace to a
troubled land.’208 Units and individual officers provided various perspec-
tives in their assessments, including statements such as ‘it was a relief
when it became known that the sojourn was nearing an end. The role of
the British forces had been a distasteful one.’209 One veteran of the
campaign later recalled: ‘I believe that in 1945 and 1946 through much
of South-East Asia the old Indian Army did a difficult job with humanity
and success.’210 Lt Col Bristow wrote that ‘the loss of life in Java seemed
unnecessary, and was deeply deplored. Veterans and heroes of Eritrea,
the Western Desert, Imphal and Burma were killed in a futile conflict
which was forced on us.’211

Conclusion
The 5th, 23rd, 20th, and 26th Indian Divisions’ experiences in FIC and
the NEI highlighted the complexity that underlies even the apparently
simplest military engagement. These post-war deployments resoundingly
contradict the common assertion that the Second World War was not
politically complex. HMG was never quite clear about what role the
British and the Indian Armies should play in supporting their European
allies in the restoration of their former colonies. Furthermore, one
cannot help but wonder whether HMG would have been as quick to
allow the expansion of SEAC AO, if British soldiers, NCOs, and ofﬁcers
had been the ones to do the ﬁghting. The political pressure brought to

ofﬁcership. See also ‘Intelligence Review Period Oct. 1945–Nov. 1946, Appendix A:
Deserters Indian Troops’, WO 203/2645, NA.
208
Doulton, Fighting Cock, p. 302.
209
This comes from the 1/16th Punjabis, the longest-serving battalion in Java: Lawford,
Solah Punjab, p. 236.
210
Patrick Davis, Red Flash, No. 16, Mar. 1993, p. 10. He served in the 4/8th Gurkhas and
commanded A Company, which arrived later in the campaign, during the summer of
1946. In one of his letters to his mother, which was published in the same Red Flash
edition (p. 8), he discussed his concerns about the deployment. He stated: ‘We’re still in
Java . . . We’re all a little browned off to tell you the truth . . . But I suppose someone has
to be here . . . We’ve only had ﬁve killed in a month, which is very light, but not at all
pleasant. One doesn’t enjoy losing lives in such a dim and doubtful cause.’
211
Bristow, Memories, p. 140.

bear by Operation Python indicates that the likely answer is no. An

additional irony is that the new Labour government, in haste to end the
British presence in India, nevertheless saw the Indian Army as an Imper-
ial Reserve with unlimited abilities to project British power and support
for allies, with the added benefit of few casualties to trouble the British
electorate.
The uneven and continually evolving strategy within SEAC also high-
lights some of the issues that had arisen between India Command and
SEAC. While both the Fourteenth and Twelfth Armies fell under the
command of SEAC, their formations were predominantly Indian. It was
one thing to have forces working in former British colonies, such as
Burma and Malaya – which Indian Army units did. Their roles in FIC
and the NEI, on the other hand, created a major political issue in India,
at the same time as the INA trials were getting under way. To Gen.
Auchinleck, the long-term stability of the Indian Army was the most
important factor for India during the period leading to independence,
and he felt very strongly that involvement in these operations caused far
too much unnecessary pressure.
The lack of clear strategy, and contradictory advice from both SEAC
and London, left Indian Army and SEAC commanders to develop
planning and strategy on their own, from the perspective of the unit on
the ground. While this resulted in some mistakes, particularly in the early
days, Indian Army commanders and troops were able to recover, regain
the initiative to secure key areas, and repatriate thousands of Allied
POWs and civilians. The divisional and corps staffs set out to carry out
their mission, at first with minimal support; along strict military lines,
they did a professional job. The officers, VCOs, NCOs, and soldiers
of the 5th, 20th, 23rd, and 26th Indian Divisions carried out this difficult
mission with the same level of professionalism and ability as they had
shown in Burma from 1943 to the end of the war. Many veterans had
remained with the divisions, and applied their experiences and know-
ledge to the campaigns in FIC and the NEI. Many of the officers, VCOs,
NCOs, and jawans considered themselves professional soldiers and
recent victorious veterans of Burma, and their job to carry out the orders
of their commanders professionally – even when lack of strategy and
political awareness at the highest levels left them in the middle of a series
of difficult political and combat situations.
Ultimately, the Indian nationalists’ rhetoric, though troublesome, had
minimal impact on Indian forces.212 This was partially due to the

212
Brett-James, Ball of Fire, p. 465.

duration of the campaign, but more because they were veteran frontline
troops, and as such tended to view their circumstances from the perspec-
tive of military professionals. This self-perception was reinforced by their
interaction with Japanese forces; British and Indian troops, at first
bemused by their role, came to respect and develop a feeling of cama-
raderie with their former enemy. Those who had been fighting and killing
one another a few months previously discovered common ground as
fellow professional soldiers, serving and dying alongside one another.
In such paradoxes are embodied the fog and complexity of war.
The concluding remarks in the 5th Indian divisional history on the
fighting in the NEI state run: ‘To the individual Indian soldier this task
must have presented serious problems. Their propagandists at home
missed no opportunity of comparing the duties that had to be carried
out in Indonesia with what they, in India, were fighting against in their
efforts to rid India of British occupation . . . [T]he soldiers had been away
for years and were longing to return home. Yet, despite these important
facts, they carried out their duty to their regiments, their officers and
their Commander in the loyal, patient and self-sacrificing way so charac-
teristic of the Indian soldier.’213

213
Ibid.

Map 5.1 Eastern Command 1946–1947

200

We are going to hand over to you a magniﬁcent weapon – a weapon of

the finest tempered steel, a blade that will never turn in your hand . . .
I have often wondered whether the people of India as a whole realise
what the Indian Army has meant to them . . . The Indian Army, the
Indian soldiers, are the best ambassadors India has ever sent. They are a
magnificent example of the Indian nation. If India is worthy of that
Army then she is worthy of everything . . . [This great army] was not
solely due to intensive training but to the quality of the men – the virtue
of courage, the virtue of loyalty and the virtue of endurance.1
This tribute to the Indian Army was made by Lt Gen. Sir Francis Tuker
of Eastern Command in early 1946, speaking to a group of journalists in
Calcutta. One of the journalists listening, in reporting the event added
some of his own thoughts:
We earnestly hope that the Indian Army will maintain that high standard of
efficiency and reliability of which General Tuker has been so proud . . . One
thing must be clear: the Army should not allow politics to interfere with its
work. It is an excellent principle that it should have no politics. [Its job is to be]
always ready to defend the country against aggressors, and not to side with one
party or the other.2
The principle articulated here had already been strained by events such
as the INA trials and the resulting violence which erupted within India.
The summer of 1946 would prove a greater test than any the Indian
Army had yet encountered in dealing with internal affairs.
Previous chapters have focused on the role of the Indian Army in the
Second World War, and in internal security operations in French Indo-
China and the Dutch East Indies. In all of these situations the army
demonstrated a consistent standard of professionalism and discipline.
The post-war era back in India opened a new phase, one of rising
political and communal violence. This trend involved the Indian Army
in a less obvious role – that of demobilised soldiers taking part in, and
sometimes orchestrating, the violence. The events of 1946, especially in
Eastern Command and the United Provinces, clearly indicated a new
level of deterioration in community standards – one that would continue
to increase in brutality and spread to the Indian Army’s main recruiting
area, the Punjab, by March 1947. The INA trials and the subsequent
unrest that they provoked had demonstrated the Indian Army’s capability
in managing communal disturbances. Despite this, the senior command
of both the army and the British Indian administration watched the
unfolding of events in 1946 with some trepidation.

1 2
Tuker, Memory, p. 573. Ibid., pp. 573–4.

The historians Ian Talbot and Gurharpal Singh have highlighted the
differences between the 1946 violence and what had come before:
five features differentiated the end of empire violence from ‘traditional’
communal riots. First, it contained a desire to squeeze out, or in modern
parlance, to ethnically cleanse minority populations. This was evidenced both
in the high casualty figures and the destruction of dwellings and businesses.
Community life was so shattered that it could not be reconstituted in the
affected locality. Second, violence was not about religious differences in
the traditional riot, but occurred within the end of empire political context of
the contest for power and territory. Local struggles responded to the wider issue
of Pakistan . . . Third, the Partition violence was more intense and sadistic than
anything that had preceded it . . . Fourth, linked with the previous characteristic,
the violence spread from its traditional public arena of conflict to invade the
private sphere. Women and children were caught up in the outbreaks and shown
no mercy. Fifth, the violence evinced a high degree of planning and organization
by para-military groups.3
This chapter will consider the role and functions, as well as the contro-
versy, of the Indian Army acting as Aid to the Civil Power in India, and
examine its performance in this capacity in 1946, as it attempted to quell
the rising political and communal violence that would far surpass any-
thing in its past experience. The events of 1946 provided, among other
things, a clear indication that there were numerous issues requiring high-
level attention within other government services, notably the Indian civil
service and the Indian Police, which would only be exacerbated as
independence drew near.4 It also highlighted the difficult position in
which this role placed the army, leading to speculation about what would
happen if the violence spread to the Punjab, still the major recruiting area
for the army.

3
Ian Talbot and Gurharpal Singh, The Partition of India (Cambridge University Press,
2009), p. 66. The book provides an excellent overview of the very complicated process of
partition of the subcontinent.
4
The Indian civil service (ICS) in 1946 was close to crisis point, due to personnel shortfalls,
post-war weariness, and the aftermath of numerous crises. Recruitment of British
personnel to the ICS had in essence ended unofficially by 1943, causing a major
personnel shortfall by 1946 – so much so that Sir Stafford Cripps, speaking in Parliament
in March 1947, intimated that Britain no longer had the power to rule. Hyam specifically
stated that ‘recruitment dried up totally in 1943, and by December 1946 there were only
6008 European ICS [officers] left. Even if replacements could be recruited, it would take
three to four years’ training’ (Hyam, Britain’s Declining Empire, p. 114). See also comments
by Pethick-Lawrence in TOP, VIII, 302, p. 551. For a much more detailed discussion of
the issues within the ICS and Indian police in the run-up to independence, see David
Potter, ‘Manpower Shortage and the End of Colonialism: The Case of the Indian Civil
Service’, Modern Asian Studies, 7, 1 (1973), pp. 47–73. Potter also makes the contentious
point that ‘a fundamental shift in allegiance [occurred] on the part of the Indian ICS
officers from the British Government to the nationalist forces in India’ (ibid., p. 71).

Lord Pethick-Lawrence, the secretary of state for India, in a telegram

to the British prime minister, Clement Attlee, pinpointed the central
importance of the Indian Army in a delicate political situation: ‘it is clear
that nearly everything depends upon the reliability and spirit of the
Indian Army, provided that they do their duty, armed insurrection in
India would not be an insoluble problem. If, however, the Indian
Army were to go the other way, the picture would be very different.’5
Gen. Claude Auchinleck,6 the commander-in-chief, India (CinCI),
responding to the telegram, wrote that:
the reliability and spirit of the Indian forces including the Police will be secured
by a ﬁrm and explicit declaration by His Majesty’s Government to the effect that
while they maintain their intention to grant self-government to India by
constitutional means: A. armed insurrection will be put down by force if
necessary and leaders punished. B. government servants will be supported to
the full. C. the police and the troops acting in the execution of their duty will be
protected at the time and thereafter.7

Auchinleck’s assertions would shortly be put to the test, as communal

violence spread from Bengal to the Punjab.

The political landscape in 1946

The political developments of 1946, speciﬁcally the Cabinet Mission and
the formation of the Interim Government, had a direct impact on events in
India in the second half of the year, and consequently on the army’s role in
performing internal security duties.8 Many historians feel that the Cabinet

5
‘Prime Minister’s Minute on the Indian Army Morale’, 6 Dec. 1945, L/WS/1/943,
OIOC, BL.
6
Gen. Auchinleck became a ﬁeld marshal on 31 May 1946. He received many letters of
congratulations. See Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester. See also his letter to
the Indian Army thanking them for their many kind letters of congratulations. He
speciﬁcally stated: ‘I am deeply moved and greatly honoured by your kind messages
coming to me from the Army’ (Publicity, 1 Jun. 1946, L/WS/1/742, OIOC, BL). When
mentioned in this chapter, his rank will relate to the time period under discussion.
7
‘Auchinleck’s response to the Prime Minister’s Minute’, 8 Dec. 1945, L/WS/1/943,
OIOC, BL. Viceroy Wavell followed up Auchinleck’s points and added: ‘full publicity
should be given to the arrival of all formations from overseas and the welcome arranged
on a lavish scale’.
8
Some of the most easily accessible primary sources dealing with the Cabinet Mission of
1946 and the formation and function of the Interim Government can be found in the
TOP, VII–VIII. For some of the best sources to be found in secondary works, see Yasmin
Khan, The Great Partition: The Making of India and Pakistan (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 2007), esp. chapter 3; Brown, Modern India, and Brown, Nehru: A Political Life
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004); Stanley Wolpert, Shameful Flight: The Last
Years of British Empire in India (Oxford University Press, 2006), especially chapter 6; and
the bibliography of Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition.

Mission of 1946 was the last hope for Congress and the League to make
common cause and establish a coalition government that would lead India
to independence. As Prime Minister Attlee stated, ‘My colleagues are
going to India with the intention of using their utmost endeavours to help
her attain her freedom as speedily and fully as possible. What form of
Government is to replace the present regime is for India to decide.’9
As has been discussed previously, the Indian National Congress party
had decided not to support India’s involvement in the Second World
War, while the Muslim League and Punjab National Unionist Party did.
As a result of their decision, and of the ongoing Quit India movement,
Congress leaders were put in jail. The governance of many of the
Congress-led provinces was disrupted;10 British governors took over
these provinces and carried out direct rule. Muhammad Ali Jinnah and
the Muslim League ﬁlled much of the political vacuum left by Congress
members’ imprisonment; over time Jinnah and the League came to
represent ‘Muslims’ as a whole and were focused in their efforts not to
become a subjugated group under a Hindu-dominated independent
India.11 British authorities, recognising the growing rift between Hindu
and Muslim political leaders, attempted to bring the two sides together
during the war to discuss the potential for a multi-religious independent
India. These efforts were entirely unsuccessful, and indeed it was during
this period that calls for a Muslim Pakistan, separate from India, grew
increasingly forceful.12
The talks took place in New Delhi and Simla over the course of three
months and at ﬁrst appeared to be successful in bringing the two main
political parties to a partial solution.13 The Cabinet Mission Plan was to
create an All-India Government whose powers would encompass only
foreign affairs and defence. All other powers would be devolved to the
provinces.14 Congress and the Muslim League agreed to the Cabinet

9
‘India Statement by the Cabinet Mission and his Excellency, the Viceroy, 16 May,
1946’, in Philips, ed., Selected Documents, IV, p. 378; see also Moon, ed., Wavell: The
Viceroy’s Journal, Appendix II, for more details.
10
See Government of India Act, pp. 164–6; also in Philips, ed., Selected Documents, IV, pp.
320–35.
11
Jinnah had made statements before the Second World War highlighting his fears: ‘the
majority community have shown their hand that Hindustan [India] is for the Hindus’
(M. A. Jinnah on the Alienation of the Muslims from Congress, Oct. 1937, cited in
Philips, ed., Selected Documents, IV, p. 347). See letters and speeches from Nehru as well
as Jinnah describing and debating the issue in more detail: ibid., pp. 336–60.
12
Ibid., pp. 336–7.
13
This subject is too large to discuss in any great detail in this book. As stated earlier, see
TOP, VII–VIII; Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal; and Philips, ed., Selected
Documents, IV, for much more detail and speciﬁc primary source materials.
14
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, p. 40.

Mission ‘Statement’ of 16 May, even though it was characterised as

having a weak central government.15 This statement also specified that
the Indian armed forces should not be divided,16 as to do so ‘would
inflict a deadly blow on the long traditions and high degree of efficiency
of the Indian Army and would entail the greatest dangers’.17 Wavell met
with Gen. Auchinleck to discuss the release of the statement and specif-
ically asked about its potential impact on the army; Auchinleck replied
that he anticipated none.18
Wavell ceased talks in early June and sought to create an Interim
Government to focus on writing a new constitution and preparing for
independence. On 16 June, Wavell and the Cabinet Mission issued a
statement on the need for a strong and representative Interim
Government, ‘to conduct the very heavy and important business that
has to be carried through’.19 Invitations were sent out to leaders from
both major parties, including Jinnah and Nehru, along with the senior
leadership of various minority groups.20 Wavell sent a report to the
British cabinet on 29 June 1946, outlining a number of points that
would be challenged and then confirmed in the final months of 1946.
In discussing the Indian Army, he indicated that ‘[while] the loyalty
and discipline of the Indian Army are at present to all appearances
satisfactory, there are doubts whether the Indian Army would respond
if asked to suppress a Congress mass movement, or deal with

15
Wavell accused the Indian National Congress of wanting a strong centre and not backing
down from that aim. See Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, ‘Lord Wavell’s
Appreciation of Possibilities in India, May 1946’, p. 483, and ‘Resolution of the
Congress Working Committee, 25th of June 1946’, in Philips, ed., Selected Documents,
IV, pp. 386–7, for more detail.
16
Auchinleck’s aide, Hamid, mentioned that many of the smaller minority groups, such as
the Sikhs, felt frustrated with the findings and feared for their loss of position. The Sikh
leadership appointed a Committee of Action, with former INA officers and soldiers
filling the ranks, to fight the plan that was being developed. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 73.
Intelligence was also gained that Sikhs were arming themselves with weapons from
American weapons dumps left behind from the Second World War. See Chapter 7.
See also Hamid, Disastrous, p. 82.
17
‘India Statement by the Cabinet Mission and His Excellency, the Viceroy, 16 May
1946’, in Philips, ed., Selected Documents, IV, p. 380.
18
‘Record of Meeting of Cabinet Delegation, Wavell and Auchinleck, 6 May 1946’, TOP,
VII, 202. The record stated that ‘generally speaking the Intelligence reports about the
state of the Army showed little sign that it had been permeated by any disruptive political
forces’. However, it also reported that ‘there was, however, more communal feeling in
the Army now than there was two years ago and this was specially so in regard to the
Indian officers’ (p. 438).
19
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 489, and Philips, ed., Selected Documents, IV,
p. 385.
20
See Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 489, and Philips, ed., Selected Documents,
IV, p. 385, for full list of the men invited.

widespread communal trouble, and in some areas the Police also

would prove unreliable’.21
While His Majesty’s Government and Wavell proceeded with plans for
an interim government, the political wrangling that had begun during the
earlier phases of the Cabinet Mission Plan became increasingly heated.
The Congress party, which had initially been supportive of the plan,
began to withdraw in early July;22 the Muslim League followed suit later
in the month.23 As July went on and the political parties squabbled, lines
were drawn across India along communal groupings, entrenching
divisions that had previously been more malleable, and laying the ground
for an outbreak of communal violence that would be more violent,
organised, and deadly than any that had come before.
The effect on the Indian Army during this period appeared to
be minimal. While interest in the news of the Cabinet Mission and the
statement in May was in evidence in the various intelligence and morale
reports, the ﬁndings generally indicated that many soldiers were ‘feeling
uncertain regarding the future of the Army as a whole and the individual as
well’.24 Some other reports noted that many VCOs and ICOs were taking
an interest in the political developments that were taking place.25 One
report from July observed: ‘the majority of the ICOs and VCOs appeared
to follow the [political] developments closely and expressed their disgust at
the discussions and the inability of the parties to come to an agreement’.26
On 24 August, Congress withdrew its objections to the Cabinet
Mission Plan and agreed to help form an interim government; the

21
‘Note for Cabinet on Present Position in India’, 29 Jun. 1946, TOP, VII, 641. The report
deals in detail with the potential issues within the ICS and the Indian police, due to
the lack of numbers and the inevitable retirement of many of the British officials in the
coming months. He was quite clear that the British at present ‘no longer have the
resources, nor I think the necessary prestige and confidence in ourselves’ (p. 1086).
22
There is some debate regarding the wording of Congress’ acceptance of the plan. See
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, pp. 325 and 493, for more discussion. When
Nehru took over presidency of Congress on 10 July, he began to pull away from
Congress’ support for the Cabinet Plan.
23
Initially, the Muslim League appeared to accept the Cabinet Mission Plan, only to
retract their position on 29 July. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 84.
24
Morale Reports, 30 Jul. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL. Intelligence Report No. 12, 7
Jun. 1946 (L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL), specifically states that ‘Indian soldiers’ minds
appear to be more exercised by economic conditions in the homes and the chances of
early release rather than by the imminent political changes and their implications.’ This
was reconfirmed a few weeks later in the 13th report.
25
One report specifically stated that some ICOs were offering support to nationalist
politicians. The report went on to state, ‘the situation requires constant watching and
any signs of communal feelings should be reported at once’. See Intelligence Reports,
No. 12, 7 Jun. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
26
Intelligence Reports, No. 14, 5 Jul. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.

Muslim League refused to participate at this time. The Interim Govern-

ment was sworn in on 2 September in New Delhi, acting as the viceroy’s
cabinet. Nehru was installed as the vice president, effectively the prime
minister as well as member for external affairs and Commonwealth
relations; in taking up this position, he promised to reshuffle the cabinet
in the event that the Muslim League decided to participate.
The Muslim League finally agreed to join the Interim Government on
15 October and was assigned five of the thirteen cabinet positions.27
However, this created additional tensions, as the Muslim League
accepted the cabinet positions, but refused to participate in the Constitu-
ent Assembly. In early December, both Congress and other non-Muslim
League members of the Interim Government asked the Muslim League
members to step down from their cabinet positions, citing their refusal to
participate fully in the assembly.28
The Interim Government post that directly affected the Indian Army
was the member for defence, held by the former Punjab minister for
development (1942–6), Sardar Baldev Singh, who also represented the
Sikh minority. This was the first time that this key position was held by an
Indian. Auchinleck was no longer a member of the viceroy’s cabinet; he
still had full authority over the military, but he now served as an adviser to
Sardar Baldev Singh. Auchinleck was part of the newly formed Defence
Members Committee, of which Singh was the chair.29 Wavell agreed to
the nominations put forward by Nehru,30 including that of Singh, whom
both considered the best choice available.31 Initially, Auchinleck also
supported the choice of Singh;32 unfortunately, this cordiality did not
last and relations became strained before the year was out.33

The army’s role in internal security duties

The Indian Army had served as Aid to the Civil Power34 (also known as
internal security or IS) since the ﬁrst years of the British Raj, and had
consistently demonstrated a marked level of professionalism in

27
India Press Release, TOP, VIII, 467, p. 736.
28
See Sir Stafford Cripps, ‘Reasons for the Transfer of Power’, 5 Mar. 1947, in Philips, ed,
Selected Documents, IV, pp. 393–7.
29
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 100.
30
Nehru to Lord Wavell, TOP, VIII, 1 Sep. 1946, 153, pp. 237 and 238.
31
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 338: ‘Singh was in the circumstances the
best bet as War Minister.’
32 33
Ibid., pp. 350 and 357. See Chapter 6 for more detail.
34
Aid to the Civil Power tended to focus on three main areas: minimum use of force, civil–
military co-operation, and deterrence of unrest. British troops stationed in India also
carried out this role, and there were many who felt that it was best to use British and

performing this most difﬁcult and unpopular task.35 The Government of

India recognised that the Indian Army was the last line of defence in
dealing with any popular uprising, and hence was very aware of the
importance of maintaining its loyalty. It was often referred to as the
‘Sword of the Raj’ in the post-Mutiny (1857) period.36
In the pre-Amritsar (1919)37 period, the Indian Army often resorted to
martial law when faced with difficult situations. Imposing martial law
meant that the military was effectively in charge of whatever area was in
turmoil, and co-ordinated the effort to restore order. The definition of
minimum force was less clear during martial law as well. After Amritsar,
the military was pressured not to impose martial law, and to keep the civil
authority in charge if at all possible. However, many soldiers, NCOs,
VCOs, and officers remained unclear on both the definition and practical
application of minimum force.38
A plethora of official and unofficial manuals and books describing the
role of the army and the guiding principles of IS doctrine were written
during the inter-war period (1919–39). The two most important of these
proved to be Maj. Gen. Charles Gwynn’s Imperial Policing, published in
1934, and the Indian Army manual, Internal Security Instructions
(1937).39 The latter followed on from the British Army manual, Duties
in the Aid of the Civil Power, which was published the same year.
Gwynn’s work was intended as an instruction manual to be read
and discussed at the various British and imperial training centres and
professional military education establishments, as well as read by
the lay person.40 His book presented a series of case studies in the

Gurkha troops, since they were ‘foreign’; however, there were never enough to make this
practical.
35
There are many accounts by British and Indian Army officers of difficult experiences
with internal security. One of the best and most accessible is by Field Marshal Slim,
Unofficial History, pp. 75–98.
36
See Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, for more discussion of this concept.
37
For more details on the Amritsar incident, see the recent chapters by Nick Lloyd, ‘The
Indian Army and Civil Disorder: 1919–1922’, in Roy, The Indian Army in the Two World
Wars, pp. 335–58, and Johnson, ‘The Indian Army and Internal Security’, as well as
Collett, Butcher of Amritsar.
38
‘The Manual of Military Law contained over 900 pages, but only one page is allotted to
Martial Law . . . The soldier has very little to go upon’ (quoted in Lloyd, ‘The Indian
Army and Civil Disorder’, p. 337); see ibid., pp. 348–52, for additional discussion of this
issue. The debate regarding martial law and the use of minimum force would come to a
head once again in the Punjab in 1947.
39
Gwynn, Imperial Policing; L/MIL/17/5/4252, OIOC, BL.
40
Gwynn explicitly articulated one of the most critical reasons for a better understanding of
IS duties: ‘In less serious cases, where armed rebellion is not encountered but disorder is
of the nature of riots, communal or anti-government, which have passed out of civil
control, there is the same necessity for firmness but an even greater necessity for

post-1918 period;41 he attempted to draw relevant conclusions from

each,42 establishing four governing principles: primacy of the civil
power; use of minimum force; firm and timely action; and co-operation
between civil and military authorities. He emphasised the need to
restore order as quickly as possible, and that the use of coercion was
inherently necessary. He also discussed intelligence gathering, stressing
its importance and the role of the police in obtaining it, declaring that
‘in all internal trouble the basis of the intelligence system must depend
on police information . . . It is, however, essential that Army should
maintain close touch with the police organisation.’43
Imperial Policing became a resource not only for operational training,
but also for official military doctrine developed during the 1930s and
1940s. The War Office manual, Duties in the Aid of the Civil Power, clearly
shows Gwynn’s influence when it lists six principles for the army in IS
duties: provision of adequate forces; necessity for offensive action;
co-ordinated intelligence under military control; efficient inter-
communication; mobility; and security measures to conceal preparations
and movement of troops. In addition, it emphasises that the army should
work under civilian leadership and support their efforts and use min-
imum force, with the ultimate end of restoration of law and order.44
Supported by these principles, the manual outlined the army’s involve-
ment in three phases. In the first, precautionary phase, the military
should be standing by; in the second, while the police attempt to address
the problem, the military should be staged forward, closer to the site of
trouble, but still standing by. Only in the third phase is the military
actually used to quell the disturbance.45
Two of Gwynn’s governing principles, minimum force and civil–
military co-operation, became the two central themes of Indian Army
IS doctrine in the inter-war period and the violence in 1946 and 1947;

estimating correctly the degree of force required. Responsibility is often thrown on quite
junior officers for the action necessary. Mistakes of judgment may have far-reaching
results. Military failure can be retrieved, but where a population is antagonized or the
authority of a Government seriously upset, a long period may elapse before confidence is
restored and normal stable conditions are re-established’ (Gwynn, Imperial Policing,
p. 5).
41
Interestingly, as an Irish-born officer, he omitted the difficult Irish war of independence.
42
He was quite clear that situations faced by troops would vary greatly in their nature and
intensity, that ‘no hard and fast regulations would cover every case’ (Gwynn, Imperial
Policing, p. 10). Perhaps not surprisingly, his governing principles have continued to
influence British counter-insurgency campaigns long after the 1930s.
43
Ibid., pp. 21–2.
44
Johnson, ‘The Indian Army and Internal Security’, pp. 372–3.
45
In practice, however, it is clear that the army was used as a deterrent as well, often
deploying before the Indian police arrived: Raghavan, ‘Protecting the Raj’, pp. 260–1.

they were also the most contentious. Following the Amritsar incident
of 1919, the British46 and Indian Armies set out to further reinforce
and maintain an understanding of minimum force in undertaking IS
duties.47
The most basic definition of minimum force can be found in the
Manual of Military Law (1929): ‘the types of disturbance in which troops
may be called upon to intervene matter little and the principles . . . apply
to each and every type . . . [Force applied by an officer] must only be the
amount which is necessary to effect the immediate object before him and
must on no account use force with a view to its deterrent effects else-
where or in the future.’48 Practical application of this principle was as
follows:49 a section, platoon, or company would arrive at the scene of
trouble, usually accompanied by the district magistrate or someone from
the civil administration. The unit tended to make a square formation,
with the commanding officer and the magistrate in the middle. The
troops would be trying to cover all angles of attack. If the crowd did
not disperse, the magistrate would sign a writ, IAFD-908, a bugle would
sound, and the unit would issue a warning for the crowd to disperse. If
the crowd still did not disperse, a second warning would sound and the
police would be ordered to fall back. The commander would identify
targets and allocate the number of rounds to be fired. The troops were
ordered to fire to wound, rather than to kill. If the crowd dispersed, firing
would cease and first aid would be given to the wounded. This was a
model system, and did not always proceed as planned; however, army
officers were both trained and educated to a high level always to work
alongside the civil administration and wait for a writ to be issued before
firing.50
Civil–military co-operation was the other defining principle that would
be called into question in the post-war period. As the 1937 Internal
Security Instructions stated: ‘the success of internal security operations
depends principally upon the cooperation between civil and military

46
The British Army had to contend with difficult duties in Ireland in 1919–21 and in Iraq
in the 1920s, and thus sought to solidify and codify doctrine for their troops as well.
47
Minimum force in the pre-1919 period was a guiding principle. The issue then, as now,
was practical interpretation and application. Army Regulations India, War Office,
London, in vol. II, specifically states: ‘apply as little force, and do as little injury, as
may be consistent with dispersing the assembly’ (p. 76); see also Johnson, ‘The Indian
Army and Internal Security’, p. 372.
48
Manual of Military Law, 1929, quoted in Raghavan, ‘Protecting the Raj’, p. 260.
49
See Slim’s account in his Unofficial History, as well as Bristow, Memories, p. 28, for more
details. Bristow’s account will be discussed in Chapter 7 as well, since he was a brigade
commander in the Punjab Boundary Force.
50
See the various Indian Army IS manuals and Raghavan, ‘Protecting the Raj’, pp. 264–6.

authorities’.51 However, as the previous paragraph describes, the tactics

involved meant that the local magistrate and police had to be present and
accountable. During the inter-war period, this relationship worked well;
the ICS district magistrate acted as the civilian representative, assisted
by the commissioner of police. The commanding officer of the local
military station in the given district provided the military component.
The military also attached a liaison officer to the civilian administration;
he read the intelligence reports and other information that came in to
both the district magistrate and the police, meeting as necessary to co-
ordinate intelligence. He worked with the civilians on future planning
and assessing potential areas of unrest. Action plans were signed off by
both the military and civilian officers. The military command would also
forward relevant intelligence to the local magistrate. It was understood
that the district magistrate and the police took the lead, since they
interacted with the people on more occasions. As with any administrative
situation, the functionality of a given district hinged to a great extent on
the personalities involved and how they viewed their mutually supporting
roles. IS situations naturally created occasional tensions during the inter-
war period; however, the breakdown of security and questions of loyalty
in the post-war period were to put an unprecedented level of strain on all
those tasked with IS responsibilities.52
The next important doctrinal manual published was Military Training
Pamphlet (MTP) No. 11, ‘Notes on Training for Duties in the Aid to the
Civil Power, 1941’. This manual highlighted the importance of civil–
military co-operation: ‘the success of all military measures in aid to the
civil power depends very largely upon the co-operation between the civil
and military authorities. Successful co-operation is only achieved when
there is mutual confidence and understanding.’53 MTP 11 also noted
that the military had been granted no new powers since the 1937 edition
had been published, reiterated that ‘civil authorities are in control’, and
further emphasised the use of minimum force: ‘troops are not operating
in an enemy country: there is no enemy to be annihilated’.54
As stated in Chapter 2, the Quit India movement of 1942 was a major
challenge for both the GOI and the Indian Army, particularly in the
recent aftermath of military defeats in Burma and Malaya. Despite these
stresses, the Indian Army stood firm and was able to perform its duties

51
L/MIL/17/5/4252, OIOC, BL.
52
See the various Indian Army manuals listed in the chapter for more speciﬁc details.
53
MTP 11, ‘Notes on Training for Duties in the Aid to the Civil Power’, 1941, L/MIL/17/
5/2252, OIOC, BL, pp. 2–3.
54
Ibid., pp. 4–8.

without any questions of loyalty. This was even more notable because
this was at a time when the Indian Army had lost significant numbers of
experienced personnel to expansion, in addition to the blows to morale
sustained following the defeats in Malaya and Burma. This, on the
surface, would appear to be the time that the army was most vulnerable;
but, even with half-trained officers, VCOs, and soldiers, it stood firm in
the performance of a difficult task.
The Indian Army undertook a major internal defence exercise in 1946.
This exercise identified several areas of concern, among them the use of
minimum firepower, coping with inadequate numbers of soldiers, and
when to institute martial law. The most telling opening comment from
the report, however, was the note that ‘civil administration was unable to
participate in the exercise’. The civil administration’s lack of understand-
ing was also made apparent by this exercise, as they had to be advised
that in future they would be expected to participate. The military was
particularly concerned that civil administrators understand that the
imposition of martial law did not mean an end of civil authority or
responsibility.55 The military might be temporarily in charge, but the
civilian administration needed to remain active, to continue work in the
executive and judicial branches.
The issues surrounding the use of force came in for a fair amount of
discussion. As the political and communal climate in 1945–6 began to
deteriorate, some commanders acknowledged that there was a potential
need for some limitations to be lifted. The report ‘recorded therefore that
some guidance should be given by GHQ India to subordinate command-
ers as to the relaxation of the role of minimum force’.56
Following this exercise, the Indian Army revised its training materials in
1946, taking the opportunity to state bluntly that IS duties entailed a focus
different from that which many officers and men, with experience in the
Second World War, were used to.57 MTP 11-A, ‘Platoon Commander’s
Guide to Duties in the Aid to the Civil Power’, stated that: ‘in war the
object is to kill the maximum number of the enemy in the shortest possible
time. Aid to the civil power is not war. The sole object is to restore law and
order, first by maximum of persuasion and patience, second by action of

55
Specifically see ‘Report on India Command Internal Defence Exercise’, 1946, L/MIL/
17/5/1816, OIOC, BL, section dealing with martial law, and the various thoughts on
when the military should and should not take charge.
56
Ibid.
57
Many officers I interviewed highlighted that they needed retraining in IS duties due to
their Second World War experience. They also noted that they felt the training was
realistic and that the doctrine was well written and clear: author’s interviews with Indian
Army officers, 1999–2009.

the police, last by the use of minimum force by the military . . . [Y]ou will do
your duty as a soldier and at the same time fulfil one of your obligations as a
citizen.’58 Officers were advised that, before the troops left the barracks on
IS duties, they should ‘ensure [the] men know they are called upon to act
for the good of the country by upholding the lawful authority of the
government which is essential for the wellbeing of any civilised country’.59
The 1946 edition also reiterated time-honoured practices of
civil–military co-operation, stressing the need for the local magistrate’s
presence. A platoon commander ‘must comply with the magistrate’s
request to take and seek military action . . . [A]ll will avail themselves of
the magistrate’s advice during the military action but not . . . be dominated
by it.’60 If a magistrate was not immediately available, the doctrine empha-
sised the need to locate one before officers could resort to force with a
crowd. The doctrine also focused on the role of police in IS, since they
often provided valuable intelligence about both the area of operations and
the ‘troublemakers’ within the community. The manual also specified key
points to consider when preparing to use ‘minimum force’:
a. Your object is not to kill but to incapacitate. b. Use your weapons and
equipment in the manner in which you have been trained as soldiers. c. Be
impartial. d. Use minimum force. e. Never use blanks. f. Never fire over the
heads of the crowd. g. Never load by single rounds. h. Slow fire will suffice.
i. Never use Brens [light machine guns]; rifles will suffice. j. Always aim at the
legs not the body or head. k. Shout for effect. l. Stop the instant the crowd shows
signs of breaking up. m. Never allow the crowd to get close. n. Secure the
casualties immediately. o. Keep diary accounts.61
The increasing level and organisation of violent action in 1946 and,
especially, 1947 called into question some of the prescriptions outlined
in the 1946 manual. The Indian Army began to face demobilised sol-
diers, who were familiar with, and understood the limitations of, the
manual. Many veterans were quick to recognise the differences between
conventional war in North Africa, Italy, the Middle East, and Burma,
and IS duties. However, many officers noted that the rising communal
violence and, later, the fighting in the Punjab in particular were in many
ways reminiscent of conventional war. As a result, many agreed with
suggestions to lift some of the restrictions on the use of force.62
By mid 1946, the Indian Army had already encountered difficult IS
situations, mainly responding to the political violence surrounding the
trials of the INA. Their involvement had raised no issues regarding

58 59
MTP 11-A, L/MIL/17/5/2253, OIOC, BL, pp. 1–2. Ibid., p. 8.
60 61
Ibid., p. 4. Ibid., pp. 6–8.
62
Author’s interviews with Indian Army ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.

loyalty or performance, although some strain was noted. However, the

second half of 1946 presented a different level of challenge: the Indian
Army faced serious communal violence63 in Calcutta, Eastern Bengal,
Bihar, and the United Provinces, episodes which tried both its discipline
and its loyalty.64 During these outbursts, thousands of people
were brutally killed and wounded in situations that had been allowed to
rage unchecked for several days before the army was called in to re-assert
government authority.
As noted in Chapter 3, the Indian Army had had to contend with serious
violence earlier in 1946, in connection with the INA trials and the RIN
mutiny.65 Southern Command, which was in charge of all military
operations in Bombay, in its report on lessons learned from IS operations
to put down the RIN mutiny, contended that some principles of IS were
not being applied by its sister services, chiefly the Indian Police. Voicing
sentiments that were echoed later after the Calcutta riots, the report asserts
that ‘timely intelligence before and during disturbances is vital. There
must be arrangements for pooling all intelligence . . . [D]uring disturb-
ances a central report centre to receive, collate, and disseminate reports
from all sources should be established . . . [T]here must be a combined
intelligence staff operating permanently, probably under the chairmanship
of the senior army staff.’66 Southern Command also highlighted potential
issues with training and knowledge of junior officers, emphasising that they
must be better trained and that senior officers needed to stop interfering
with their decision-making. This report also touched on the unresolved
debate on use of minimum force, noting that ‘training in IS duties must
include training in dealing with really violent and determined mobs’.67

63
As noted earlier, many weapons used during this and later violence were discarded by
American troops after the Second World War. There were arms dumps throughout
eastern India that had essentially been abandoned, providing caches of weapons and
ammunition for political paramilitary volunteer organisations all over India: Tuker,
Memory, pp. 125 and 135.
64
See ibid., pp. 597–605, for personal accounts of operating in Calcutta in the Aid to the
Civil Power, as well as Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 186–90 and 208–9, for a detailed
discussion of why British troops were gradually withdrawn and not allowed to carry
out the Aid to the Civil Power in the Punjab in June, July, and August 1947.
65
While intelligence reports indicated that the army had carried out its duties with
professionalism, one report from April 1946 noted that some soldiers had been
observed attending political rallies. The report did go on to say ‘as far as can be
ascertained this feeling is not yet either widespread or deep rooted’: Morale Reports,
30 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/1636, OIOC, BL.
66
Lessons of the Royal Indian Navy Mutiny, 8310/154–73, Gen. Sir Robert Lockhart
Papers, NAM.
67
Ibid. The report highlighted other points, such as that all ranks must be warned that
‘magistrates and police officials cannot order troops to open fire. These officials can only
call upon troops to disperse rioters . . . officers must be drawn to the rules about firing
with automatic weapons.’

The Great Calcutta Killing (16–20 August 1946)

The Calcutta riots were linked to the political climate of July 1946,
particularly the impending installation of the Interim Government
(September 1946) under the leadership of Nehru of the Indian National
Congress party.68 Various Muslim officials had been invited to serve as
part of the government;69 however, on 27 July, Jinnah announced the
Muslim League’s rejection of the Cabinet Mission Plan, and called
upon ‘the Muslim nation to stand to a man behind their sole represen-
tative organisation, the Muslim League, and be ready for sacrifice’.70
Jinnah followed this on 29 July with the call for direct action (strikes,
closing of shops, disruption of transport) to take place on 16 August ‘to
achieve Pakistan’.71 The Muslim League’s approach was to protest the
perceived inequitable treatment at the hands of the Hindus, led by
Congress.72
In the run-up to August, both parties and their supporting newspapers
inflamed tensions between the Muslim and Hindu communities.73 The
commander of Eastern Command, Lt Gen. Tuker,74 recognised the day
of Day of Direct Action’s potential to spark widespread communal
violence. He ordered military reinforcements, one British and two
Gurkha battalions, to be ready to move into the city. Congress called
for a remembrance day on 9 August to commemorate the Quit India
movement of 1942; this was carried out with no violence, but communal
tensions continued to rise. Gen. Tuker reported that the military com-
manders in the city, Brigs. James Patrick MacKinlay and Eric Sixsmith,
restricted movement of the military forces in the city up to and on the

68
See Suranjan Das, Communal Riots in Bengal 1905–1947 (Bombay: Oxford University
Press, 1991). Das speciﬁcally stated: ‘What, however, most clearly distinguishes the
1946 violence from earlier outbreaks was its highly organized nature and direct links
with institutional politics’ (p. 176). For a general overview of the riots and the later
violence in 1946, see Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, ch. 4, pp. 63–80, for background.
69
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 334.
70
Quoted in Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, p. 165. The League was in charge of the
Bengal Ministry at this point.
71
Muslims were to suspend all business, and public meetings were to be held to explain the
League’s rejection of the Cabinet Mission Plan. It also highlighted an element of violence
as the League stated that it was to ﬁght the contemplated caste-Hindu domination, as
well as Jinnah’s statement, ‘we bid goodbye to constitutional methods’: Das, Communal
Riots in Bengal, p. 165.
72
Tuker, Memory, pp. 153–4.
73
See Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, pp. 166–70, for more details.
74
For a more complete description of the key role Tuker’s While Memory Serves has played
in our understanding of this period, see Mary Doreen Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in
India, 1946–1947: The Role of Lt General Sir Francis Tuker in Eastern Command’, in
C. H. Philips and Wainwright, eds., The Partition of India: Policies and Perspective, 1935–
1947 (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1970), pp. 127–47.

Figure 5.1 Calcutta riots, 1946 © Imperial War Museums

(Image No. HU 87261)

16th, so as not to exacerbate any tensions.75 Gen. Tuker had to leave

command for a series of meetings in London and New Delhi, and so
placed Maj. Gen. Roy Bucher in charge.76
Just before serious communal violence broke out in Calcutta (and
then spread to East Bengal, Bihar, and the United Provinces), a
meeting took place on 13 August in the Chiefs of Staff Committee in
New Delhi, where they were requested to discuss the ‘Internal Situ-
ation in India’. They were asked to discuss a report on the ﬁndings of
the Joint Intelligence Staff, which reported that, due to the current
political and communal climate, future disturbances could lead to civil

75 76
Tuker, Memory, p. 155. Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, p. 133.

war; and that, if civil war were to break out, the Indian Army could not
be relied upon. Auchinleck gave it as his opinion that the report was
too gloomy, indicating his belief that the situation in India had
improved over the past two months. (Little did he realise how danger-
ous it was about to become.) In response to comments relating to
the Indian Army, he asserted that ‘the Army had been little affected’.77
He did warn, however, that in the event of serious communal trouble,
it would be impossible to call upon Muslim troops to take action
against Muslims or Hindu troops to do the same with their co-
religionists. He ended by reiterating that ‘at present no such wide-
spread trouble had arisen, and there were no signs of unreliability in
the army at all’.78
The ﬁrst reports of violence in Calcutta came in on 16 August; the
governor of Bengal reported that disturbances had begun around 7 a.m. in
certain sections of the city.79 Hindus set up barricades to prevent Muslims
from entering certain parts of the city, and Muslims tried to force Hindu
shopkeepers to shut their shops. The Muslims were preparing to hold a
major political rally at the Ochterlony Monument. Within hours,
Muslims and Hindus were attacking one another in different sections of
the city.80 The police were able to deal with some of the outbursts, and
the army was put on alert to support the police if needed.81 From the
start it was quite clear that the violence was communal in nature,
as the governor reported: ‘disturbances so far have been markedly com-
munal and not, repeat not, in any way anti-British or anti-government’.82
The rioting and violence increased overnight;83 the army was called

77
Chiefs of Staff Committee, ‘Internal Situation in India’, 13 Aug. 1946, L/WS/1/1030,
OIOC, BL. Interestingly, one report, written in July 1946, claimed that ‘there is said to
have been a slight increase in communal feeling among IORs but no more than what
might be expected in the circumstances’ (Morale Reports, Jul. 1946, L/WS/1/1636,
OIOC, BL). Auchinleck would later express concern in September 1946: ‘Already
many Muslim officers, for example, consider themselves as Muslims first and Indians
second, though they may be proud to belong to the present Indian Army’ (Morale
Reports, Sep. 1946, L/WS/1/1637, OIOC, BL).
78
Chiefs of Staff Committee, ‘Internal Situation in India’, 13 Aug. 1946, L/WS/1/1030,
OIOC, BL.
79
Sir F. Burrows to Pethick-Lawrence, 16 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 154, p. 240.
80
See Tuker’s assessment in Memory, pp. 156–7.
81
The York and Lancaster Regiment was ordered to prepare for movement at 3 p.m. See
ibid., p. 157. Tuker had claimed that the police had had issues with IS in the previous
riots earlier in the year and that they might not be strong enough. See Wainwright,
‘Keeping the Peace in India’, p. 132.
82
Burrows to Pethick-Lawrence, 16 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 154, p. 240.
83
The violence was bestial, highly organised, and aimed at all aspects of civil life. Women
and children were specifically targeted. Rape and physical attacks on specific body parts
were prevalent, and after these attacks the victims were often butchered in front of their

out84 to take over some areas for patrolling, and a curfew was
imposed.85 The rest of the garrison, two British battalions, was
deployed to other affected areas, and the Gurkhas were put on call.
On the 17th, the Gurkhas entered into the city, as more troops from
Eastern Command were called in, including more Indian troops. The
army units were carrying out both motor and foot patrols, and were
regularly engaging in heavy ﬁghting against gangs of killing squads.86
A report from the governor on 18 August emphasised that the military
was able to maintain law and order in the areas only by control and
patrol; it also indicated the likelihood of former soldiers and INA
involved in the violence, noting that ‘gangs are still adopting guerrilla
tactics with some success to evade our mobile patrols’ and stating that
more military were needed.87 This combination of factors – the presence
of demobilised soldiers in the community and the growing need for more
troops – was to increasingly hamper the army’s ability to quell communal
violence through 1946 and into 1947, as the Indian Army was rapidly
demobilised regardless, transferring large numbers of soldiers from its
ranks into a fractured community.
During the day and evening of the 18th, British, Indian, and Gurkha
units moved into northern Calcutta to clear out gangs and attempt to
take control of the area. Additional troops were also arriving to help
relieve the tired troops. Tuker reported a disturbing aspect to the
situation that was to worsen as violence increased and spread from
Calcutta to the rest of Eastern Command and later the Punjab: ‘Police
and soldiers were getting tired, and the load of quelling the violence was
falling more and more on the troops as the police wearied and lost
heart.’88
Concerns regarding the police’s efforts and intelligence gathering were
echoed in a later report by acting army commander Maj. Gen. Bucher.
He reported the crucial breakdown of trust: ‘troops waiting to be called
out and those who have taken up precautionary positions must not place
full reliance on information provided by the police or by the civil

families. See Tuker, Memory, and Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, for more details if you
wish.
84
Tuker would later accuse Bucher of ‘being too much of a political soldier [who] did not
step in with his army reinforcements, which I had left ready for him, until the killing had
started. Had I been there, I would have seen that the soldiers were ready in central
positions prepared to act’ (‘Record of 1946/1947’, p. 7, Box 71/21/1/7, Tuker Papers,
IWM).
85
Burrows to Wavell, 17 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 159 and 161, pp. 244 and 245.
86
Tuker, Memory, pp. 159–62.
87
Burrows to Wavell, 18 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 169, p. 255.
88
Tuker, Memory, pp. 161–2.

authorities’. This report also recommended that the military gather its
own information: ‘officer patrols must be constantly moving about the
area in which troops are likely to be required so that they have an up to
date and personal knowledge of what is going on’. The report went on to
cover some key issues that would plague the army until independence,
particularly with regard to interpreting IS doctrine. One example was
defining a crowd as hostile after they began to disperse. As discussed
earlier, crowds historically were allowed to disperse; however, after
events in Calcutta, Bucher raised the idea of continuing to consider
crowds hostile after they dispersed, given that they continued to re-form
after contact and frequently attacked more than once. Bucher also dis-
cussed the use of tanks for patrolling, which had previously been con-
sidered contradictory to the idea of minimum force, asserting that ‘tanks
employed in patrolling were found to be invaluable . . . They have con-
siderable morale effect.’ Discussing the use of Indian versus British
troops, Bucher was unequivocal: ‘Indian Army units must be used to a
far greater degree in the aid to the civil power.’89
Discussions of IS duties during this period indicate concerns about
breakdown in the accepted order, both in working with the police and the
civil administration, and in the scope of behaviour expected from the
population. These first incidents of 1946 provided a glimpse of what
could happen if the system broke down. The police were not as
co-operative as they had been in the past; they did not provide valuable
intelligence; and they were not as focused on their own duties. In one
egregious example, a lieutenant colonel in the intelligence section
reported to Lt Gen. Tuker that ‘during the riots the police made profits
for their personal gain; money was demanded for security’.90
On the 19th, violence appeared to subside and some shops began to
open. Clean-up and tending to the dead and wounded began.91 The
viceroy reported initial findings to Pethick-Lawrence on 21 August:
three days of violence in Calcutta had produced more than 3,000
dead and 17,000 wounded.92 The political parties, Congress and the
Muslim League, blamed one another for the violence. Wavell
reported that

89
‘Lessons of the Calcutta Riots’, 3 Oct. 1946, to the Chief of the General Staff, New
Delhi, Gen. Sir Roy Bucher Papers, NAM.
90
Lt Col GSO1 Intelligence Report to Lt Gen. Tuker, Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM.
91
See Tuker, Memory, p. 163, for a graphic description of the brutality demonstrated in the
city. See also Appendix V, pp. 597–605, in Tuker, Memory, for a detailed description of a
company commander’s version of the violence and the clean-up.
92
The ﬁnal tally would increase to 4,400 dead: Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 28 Aug. 1946,
TOP, VIII, 208, p. 323.

when it [violence] started the Hindus and Sikhs were every bit as ﬁerce as the
Muslims. The present estimate is that appreciably more Muslims than Hindus
were killed. I have been told that savagery and enthusiasm for murder was
terrible . . . All ordinary human feelings seem to have completely deserted a
considerable proportion of the population of the city. The number of troops
employed is now 5 battalions of British and 4 battalions Indians and Gurkhas.93
Reports began to come into army HQ that ex-INA soldiers had been
involved in the organised killings. INA men had come to Calcutta to
celebrate INA Day on 18 August, and many former INA were employed
in different parts of Calcutta. It also became apparent that the vast
majority of the INA were Hindus. While the INA had claimed to be
non-communal during the Second World War, the events of August
1946 indicated the harsh reality of communalism in the communities.94
Lord Pethick-Lawrence received a letter on 22 August from Horace
Alexander, who headed the Friends Ambulance Unit in India, which
highlights some of the major issues developing in Indian IS:
with regard to the police: they came in for such severe criticism last winter for
acting too soon and too violently that one hesitates to criticise them for coming in
too late this time. But I must record that I have not heard of any instance of
effective intervention from the police during the whole of Friday or Saturday.
I have heard several stories of the police looking on or refusing to intervene . . .
I realise that a Government that calls in the military too soon is instantly criticised
for acting too harshly; and there will no doubt be some rather bitter comments
from the Government side that the very people who criticised the Government
last winter for using the military to excess were now clamouring for its use.95

The ﬁrst major assessment on the violence in Calcutta was written up by

Sir Frederick John Burrows on 22 August and sent to Pethick-
Lawrence. This report outlines the lead-up to the outbreak, as well as
the various efforts to contain the violence. Throughout, Brig. MacKinlay
worked alongside the civil administration, adapting to conditions on the
ground and recognising that his forces could not be dispersed, due to
the level and orchestration of violence. Sir Frederick concluded that
the scale of the rioting was unprecedented. It was a pogrom between two
armies . . . [T]he only thing which prevented a complete collapse of the

93
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 21 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 187, p. 274. Some Indian
politicians called for more British troops to be deployed, only after calling for British
troops to be withdrawn from India as a whole, as quickly as possible. Tuker also
commented about the violence, ‘it was unbridled savagery with homicidal maniacs let
loose to kill and kill and to maim and burn’ (Memory, p. 160).
94
See Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, pp. 181–2, and his sources on p. 273 for more detail.
INA members would be implicated in violence on both sides of the communal divide.
95
Mr Horace Alexander to Pethick-Lawrence, 22 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 194, p. 288.

administration was the three battalions of British troops, who were readily
available for this sort of emergency [more troops were brought in from other
areas]. Though the occasion and nature of the emergency could not be foreseen,
the Army Commander and I had long agreed on the necessity of such a
disposition of troops. I could not possibly have held Calcutta with the police
alone, and I am extremely doubtful if Indian troops would have inspired
sufﬁcient conﬁdence.96

Writing his own assessment of this period, Lt Gen. Tuker recalled a

meeting on 18 August with a Muslim League official, Huseyn Shaheed
Suhrawardy, who was chief minister for Bengal, and Indian and British
officers. According to Tuker, Suhrawardy clearly showed his communal
bias; however, he was confronted by several officers present, who asked
why civilians could not live in harmony as officers and soldiers of various
religious backgrounds could live in peace in the army. The chief minister
responded that the unity in the army would not exist much longer.
Lt Gen. Tuker commented that ‘he was right and we knew it’.97 Senior
ICS officials expressed concern as well; the governor of the Punjab, Sir
Evan Jenkins, wrote in a letter to Wavell that ‘how far the Muslim
soldiers of the Indian Army would support the present regime in an
emergency is at least doubtful . . . [T]he danger with the soldiers as with
the rest of the Muslim population is the religious appeal.’98
Not all commanders shared this pessimism regarding the performance
of the Indian troops. Maj. Gen. Bucher, who was acting army com-
mander for the first two days of the Calcutta violence, met with Wavell
on 26 August; Wavell, recording the meeting in his diary, commented
that ‘the Indian troops, including the transport companies, behaved very
well indeed’.99 Gen. Sir Reginald Savory, the adjutant general at the
time, wrote to his wife that ‘I find it most intensely interesting as I am
fairly closely involved in things so far as the Army alone stands between
order and chaos just now.’100
The first internal intelligence report examining the impact of the riots
on the army was written in September; it concluded that ‘although the
political and communal situation remained tense throughout [August]
the Indian services generally were unaffected by the course of events’.

96
Burrows to Pethick-Lawrence, 22 Aug. 1946, TOP, VIII, 197, pp. 302–3. See the full
document for more details on the way the governor and the army commander were able
to deal with the violence.
97
See Tuker, Memory, p. 162. Suhrawardy’s communal bias was noted many times during
the violence; see Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, 26 Aug., pp. 338–9.
98
Jenkins to Wavell, 31 Aug. 1946, Wavell Papers, OIOC, BL.
99
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, 26 Aug. 1946, p. 339.
100
Gen. Sir Reginald Savory to his wife, 28 Aug. 1946, 7603-93-80, Gen. Sir Reginald
Savory Papers, NAM.

The report made speciﬁc mention of ‘comradeship of active service in the

Second World War’ as a key element of the army’s esprit de corps.101 Field
Marshal Auchinleck sent a note to Maj. Gen. Bucher on 24 September,
commenting that ‘action by the Army in support of the police is an
unwelcome task calling for tact, forbearance, steadiness, firmness and
impartiality. These qualities were shown in the most difficult circum-
stances by formation HQ and all units . . . for which our soldiers, British
and Indian, are justly proud.’102
A later intelligence report from October evaluating the Indian Army’s
performance during the August riots stated that ‘all ranks employed in
Calcutta during and after the riots are reported to have behaved in an
exemplary manner and have received praise for their hard work, fairness
and impartiality. The Calcutta calamity seems, if anything, to have drawn
Indian soldiers of different communities closer together.’103 This assess-
ment of the Indian Army’s performance appears to reflect the general
opinion,104 and these themes were reiterated in an internal ‘morale
report’ prepared the same month:
the morale of the Indian troops generally appears to have remained steady, in
spite of the testing nature of recent events. At no time has there been any
marked communal feeling within the units, and indeed many reports for the
period make a point of fact that Muslims and Hindus successfully played host to
one another . . . [C]ommunal relations within units appear to have withstood
satisfactorily . . . [T]he conduct of troops engaged in dealing with riots appears to
have been entirely satisfactory and in many cases has earned the respect and
appreciation of locals.105

Violence in East Bengal (Noakhali), October 1946

The ﬁrst reports of tension and violence in East Bengal began in early
September. Although Wavell had reported to Pethick-Lawrence that
communal tensions were rising across India,106 300 people had been

101
Intelligence Reports, No. 16, 2 Sep. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
102
Auchinleck to Bucher, 24 Sep. 1946, Bucher Papers, 7901–87–3, NAM.
103
Intelligence Reports, No. 17, 1 Oct. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
104
Many observers noted that the army was still operating as a non-political and communal
force; however, some senior ofﬁcers (including Lt Gen. Tuker) also noted that most of
the trouble occurred outside the Punjab, where most of the army had been recruited,
and wondered how the army would fare when deployed on IS duties in their home
areas. See Tuker, Memory, p. 137.
105
Indian Army Morale, Report Ending Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1637, OIOC, BL.
106
There was rising tension in Bombay throughout September; however, it subsided when
the police were able to take control of the situation early on. For more details, see letters
of Sir A. Clow, Governor of Bombay, to Wavell, 17 Sep. 1946, TOP, VIII, 328, pp.
531–3, and 3 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 399, pp. 648–9.

killed in East Bengal before any ofﬁcial report was made. Lt Gen. Tuker,
Eastern Command GOC, and his staff recognised that East Bengal and
other areas under his command were teetering on the brink of violence
sparked by events in Calcutta. Tuker’s information came from intelli-
gence gained by the military branches; he noted that civil intelligence
‘was sadly lacking . . . [N]o authentic report . . . came out of East
Bengal.’107
The primary consideration for Lt Gen. Tuker and his staff in Eastern
Command was where best to place the troops so as to have the best
chance of quelling any violence before it spread too fast. Troops that had
been deployed to Calcutta in August were redeployed to Chittagong in
East Bengal and into Bihar.108 Tuker reported that both he and the
Bengal Army commander, Gen. R. P. I. Ranking, as well as government
ofﬁcials, began to hear rumours of violence in the districts of Noakhali
and Tippera on 14 October. Ranking began to move police and troops
into the area,109 even though the reports asserted that the police could
handle the situation alone.110 Tensions existed, but there appeared to be
no signs of incipient violence. This is in marked contrast to two letters
that Wavell111 received from citizens of Noakhali, also on 14 October,
asserting that violence was rampant and that ‘no police help available.
Unless immediate military help rendered, entire Hindu population will

107
Tuker, Memory, p. 170. Das recorded that ‘the Noakhali–Tippera riot was in some
respects an extension of the Calcutta carnage which had affected inter-communal
relations throughout eastern Bengal . . . and a sizable section within both communities
[Hindu and Muslim] became eager to avenge the deaths of their co-religionists’
(Communal Riots in Bengal, p. 195).
108
Tuker describes the back-and-forth deployment of various units from Calcutta across
East Bengal in early October in an attempt to offset any violence. See Memory,
pp. 170–1.
109
Interestingly, Shahid Hamid, Auchinleck’s aide, noted that violence had erupted on the
10th in Noakhali district. See Hamid’s entry in his diary for 10 October 1946,
Disastrous, p. 108. Das indicates that this was the first day of riots and killings. He
cites the address by the chief minister for Bengal, Ghulam Sarwar, to 15,000 Muslims,
who turned around and looted the various Hindu shops in the area and then attacked
the residences of two of the wealthiest Hindus in the area: Communal Riots in Bengal, p.
196. See also Tuker, Memory, Appendix VI, pp. 616–19, a personal account of a
company commander from 4/2nd Gurkha Rifles, who recalled receiving word from
the police on the 14th and troops moving out within an hour. See the whole report for
specific details on the complexity of a company operating in the IS role. Sir F. Burrows,
Governor of Bengal, also indicated that violence erupted on the 10th in a letter to Lord
Pethick-Lawrence; see his letter, dated 16 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 472, p. 743. He also
mentions troops being moved around at an early stage.
110
Tuker, Memory, p. 171.
111
Wavell noted in his journal entry for 15 October 1946: ‘serious troubles seem to have
broken out in Eastern Bengal with much killing of isolated Hindu communities by
Muslim terrorists’. See Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 360.

be extinct.’112 Press reports from the 16th described mass murder,

kidnapping, and ethnic cleansing by Muslim gangs against Hindus in
and around Noakhali.113 It shortly became clear that communications in
the area with the outside world had been compromised, leaving author-
ities in the dark about what was happening.114
The military and civilian administration met on the 16th and decided
to deploy another 2,500 police and troops to the affected areas. Com-
panies from several Indian Army battalions were sent in to restore order
as quickly as possible. It was estimated that more than 1,000 armed
Muslim men had been carrying out a well-organised violent pogrom.
Intelligence also came in that ex-soldiers were among those involved.
Mass conversions of Hindu women took place, and violence against
women and children was high on the agenda, as it had been in
Calcutta.115 The local police and the civil administration were widely
considered to be biased in favour of the Muslim population,116 and failed
to protect many of the Hindus in the area. The League’s Bengal adminis-
tration also attempted several times to obstruct the army’s operations to
clear out the Muslim gangs.117
By the 19th, most of the violence had subsided as police and troops
moved out and killed, wounded, or captured members of the
gangs.118 Lt Gen. Tuker moved the 161st Indian Infantry Brigade,
commanded by a Hindu, Brig. Pran Nath Thapar,119 and its units

112
Mr Sarat Chandra Bose to Wavell, 14 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 452, p. 726. See also Das,
Communal Riots in Bengal, pp. 192–3, for some of the background regarding the dates of
violence and the reporting.
113 114
Tuker, Memory, pp. 171–2. Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, pp. 70–1.
115
Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, p. 198.
116
See the ‘Minutes of Conference with the Governors of Bengal, United Provinces,
Punjab Sind, and North-West Frontier Province, 8 August 1946’, TOP, VIII, 132,
for comments regarding the police in Bengal from the governor. He stated: ‘The East
Bengal Police who were 30% Muslims used to be good but were not as reliable as in the
past . . . Many [British] officials would want to go from the 1st of January 1947 . . . even
now there were less than 100 British ICS officers in the Province, and about the same
number of Indian Police officers. The steel frame was now more like lath and plaster
and more plaster than lath’ (p. 205).
117
See Das, Communal Riots in Bengal, p. 200, where he specifically states that the
superintendent of police in Noakhali made his partisan views clear to all, and the
Bengal chief minister Suhrawardy wanted troops to stop attempting to restore order
in the area.
118
Tuker, Memory, p. 175. Wainwright says the violence subsided by the 20th: ‘Keeping
the Peace in India’, p. 135.
119
Lt Gen. Tuker specifically made mention of Brig. Thapar’s ability. He stated: ‘he
discharged his duties in these peculiarly difficult conditions with absolute impartiality,
a deep sense of responsibility and competence, setting an example to all other Indian
officers who were later to be employed all over eastern and northern India in these days
of insensate cruelty and violence’ (Memory, p. 619).

into the area.120 The troops carried out sweeping operations alongside
the police throughout the rest of October and November. The troops
were vilified by the Muslim League’s Bengal administration for their
involvement; the adjutant of the 1/3rd Gurkhas recorded that ‘officers
had the impression that from Mr Suhrawardy, the Chief Minister,
downwards, the bias was in favour of the Muslims and against their
victims, and the ministers showed resentment, rather than gratitude,
to the soldiers for all they had done to stop the disturbances. Police
too who had acted against Muslims were not appreciated.’121
The army, along with some police, were able to quell the violence in
the area, although it took time, due to defective information and mis-
judgement by the local commander.122 The army also sought out former
soldiers living in the area and called them in to gain their assistance in re-
establishing equilibrium in the community.123 Before it was over, some
350 villages in the two districts had been affected;124 the authorities
estimated that, while only 300 people were killed, more than 50,000
Hindus became refugees.125 After a series of interviews with various
leaders and officials, Wavell summed up his findings in a letter to
Pethick-Lawrence on 5 November: ‘the police are undoubtedly demoral-
ised and ineffective . . . [T]he people at large have little confidence in
their impartiality . . . [T]he troops . . . did excellent work and have
restored order and confidence where they have been.’126
At around this time Auchinleck also wrote to the army commanders:
At our recent conference I discussed with you the excellent work which has
been done and is being done by the British officers of the Indian Army,

120
See Tuker, Memory, Appendix VI, pp. 606–19, for accounts of these operations by
ofﬁcers of the 4/7th Rajputs and the 1/3rd Gurkhas.
121
Ibid., p. 618.
122
See letter from Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 5 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 8 enclosure,
speciﬁcally for more details on the conversation with Maj. Gen. Bucher. Bucher did
admit that the troops being well dispersed had quelled much of the violence. He also
noted that the people in the districts had no faith in the police and the minister, and that
the morale of the inspector general of police in Bengal was low, and felt that the police
were not at the same standard as they had been in the past (pp. 14–15).
123
Tuker, Memory, pp. 176–8. Tuker also mentions that both the Muslim and Hindu
communities made accusations that the Indian Army troops were acting with too much
vigour, always accusing troops of the opposite religion of being too zealous.
124
The British authorities, both civil and military, stated repeatedly that, while the violence
was appalling, it was blown out of proportion in comparison with the situation in
Calcutta. They felt that Congress and Nehru were primarily responsible. See entries
in TOP, VIII, Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, and Tuker, Memory, for more
discussion.
125
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, pp. 70–1. They also mention the well-organised
element of the violence due to the presence of demobilised soldiers.
126
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 5 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 8 enclosure, p. 18.

particularly the old Regular officers and amongst them especially Commanding
Officers of units. I realize very well how very difficult their present task is and
that it is not likely to get easier in the future. I will be most grateful if you will
take every opportunity of letting Commanding Officers know how much
I appreciate the splendid way they are carrying on. They are doing a great
service to the Army and to their country.127

Violence in Bihar
The violence in Calcutta and East Bengal was initially blamed on
Muslims and support from the local Muslim League officials by many
within the Hindu and Sikh communities. The fact that local League
officials in Bengal did not do much to squelch their own communal
violence caused dissension at the highest levels of the Interim Govern-
ment, as League and Congress members blamed one another for sup-
porting the violence.128 At the end of October, violence broke out in
Bihar, where Hindus attacked Muslims. The Congress-led government
in Bihar was criticised for not dealing with the violence, as League-led
governments had been following incidents in Calcutta and East Bengal.
The Congress-led Provincial Government called for a protest day to
remember the dead of Noakhali, and within days violence had
erupted.129 The chief minister for Bihar, S. K. Sinha, and his Congress
colleagues initially refused to call in troops, asserting that ‘prayer’ would
restore calm. Over the ensuing two weeks, more than 7,000 people were
killed in Bihar, and some 50,000 displaced.130
The governor of Bihar, Sir Hugh Dow, in a letter to Wavell in early
September, foresaw the coming violence; he indicated that communal
tensions were extremely high, and cited the numbers of Biharis who were
returning from the Calcutta violence and spreading tales. He called into
question the Congress government and their officials, who he accused of
‘undermining the authority and prestige of district officers, and even

127
Auchinleck Papers, 20 Oct. 1946, No. 1196, University of Manchester; also quoted in
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 851, and Hamid, Disastrous, p. 109. See ‘Minutes of Conference
with the Governors of Bengal, United Provinces, Punjab Sind, and North-West
Frontier Province, 8 August 1946’, TOP, VIII, 132, and the reply from the deputy
commander-in-chief, India, Gen. Sir Arthur Smith, when asked about the reliability of
Muslim troops: ‘the probable attitude of Muslim troops . . . according to a report the
average Sepoy was taking very little interest in political matters’ (p. 209).
128
See letter from Nehru to Wavell, 15 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 462, p. 732, and letter from
23 Oct. 1946, 496, pp. 781–4, for more description of the ‘political accusations’.
129
Sir H. Dow, Governor of Bihar, to Pethick-Lawrence, 29 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 524,
p. 831.
130
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, p. 72.

when exhorting ofﬁcers to do their duty have done it in a hectoring

manner, threatening them with punishment . . . and perhaps worst of
all, the way in which the police have been handled has caused consider-
able doubts as to their dependability in an emergency . . . I am not
without hopes that there will be an improvement in some directions as
the result of a Congress Ministry at the Centre, and the sobering effect of
Calcutta on some of the leaders of the extreme groups.’131 The Eastern
Command GOC, Lt Gen. Tuker, was equally damning of the situation
as it stood. He stated: ‘We knew by now [early October] that the Bihar
police were of little use. They had been rotted out by the very party of the
Ministers who held office . . . The police were therefore dispirited and
incompetent.’132
The Noakhali Day of Remembrance went forward in the Chapra Saran
District, and violence broke out on 25 October.133 As in Calcutta and
East Bengal, the violence was highly organised and well planned. As in
Calcutta and (to a certain extent) Noakhali, women and children were
specifically targeted. Lt Gen Tuker recorded that ‘women and their
babies were cut up, butchered, with an obscene devilry that a civilized
people cannot even conjure forth in their imagination’.134 It is interesting
to note that Tuker reports that when he asked a group of Hindu soldiers
why they used their weapons against the gangs of killers (co-religionists)
with such effect, they stated, ‘they would have liked to wipe them out
after what they had seen’.135
Maj. Gen. R. Ekin, GOC of the Bihar and Orissa area, called upon the
governor, Sir Hugh Dow, and the civilian administration to use more
troops; he was sending units out on repeated ‘flag marches’ in an attempt
to quiet things down. The area command was short on numbers, since
three battalions had been moved to Calcutta and East Bengal in response
to incidents there, and the closest reinforcements were in Ranchi, nearly
300 miles away. A company of the 4/3rd Gurkha Rifles was despatched to
Chapra in response to Ekin’s request, but even as they were on the move,

131
Dow to Wavell, 7 Sep. 1946, TOP, VIII, 276, pp. 442–3.
132
Tuker, Memory, p. 183. Talbot and Singh in Partition of India also highlighted this issue,
noting that ‘police lacked impartiality’ (p. 73).
133
See Tuker and Dow in a letter to Pethick-Lawrence, 29 Oct. 1946, TOP, VIII, 524,
p. 831, where they state it began on the 25th, as do Talbot and Singh in Partition, p. 71.
134
Tuker, Memory, p. 182. See also Vinita Damododaran, ‘Bihar in the 1940s:
Communities, Riots and the State’, in Low and Brasted, eds., Freedom, pp. 175–98,
which records that some Muslim men killed their wives and daughters as Hindu gangs
closed in, for fear of what might happen to them at the hands of the Hindu mobs
(p. 189). The butchery of Muslims in some villages was so great that they functionally
ceased to exist (ibid.).
135
Tuker, Memory, p. 182.

violence was spreading across Bihar from Chapra to the Patna, Monghyr,
Bhagalput, and Gaya districts.136 By 2 November, violence had spread
throughout northern and southern Bihar.137
The available troops were playing catch-up with those elements of the
police who were willing to support the army. During the early days,
troops tended to come upon villages that had been recently been
attacked; they would drive off the enemy, then rescue people who had
survived. As time went on, more and more troops were earmarked for
these missions. The normal mission plan for an army battalion was to
split into company-sized formations, create a company base, and deploy
multiple mobile patrols to intercede against the various gangs. Sections
of men were frequently dropped off in villages to offset attacks by gangs;
while generally outnumbered, units were able to inﬂict enough damage
on an attacking mob to drive them off.138 The 5th Indian Divisional HQ
was moved to Dinapur to help organise and plan IS deployment.139
Commanders sought out former soldiers in the community and asked
them to serve as ‘special constables’, and many joined, as they had in
Noakhali.140 With centralisation of the army’s efforts and the full
resources of the 5th Indian Division (minus the 161st Brigade) available,
the army and the police141 began to get control of the situation by 6
November.142
During this period, Wavell’s journal entries about the violence in Bihar
were damning of the actions of both the League and Congress. On 6
November, he wrote that ‘the situation in Bihar seems quite out of hand.
It is of course the result of the violent communal propaganda on both
sides and the lowering of the authority and morale of the services and the
Police by the Ministry . . . [A]s I have warned HMG on many occasions
we have now the responsibility without the power, whereas the Indian
Provincial Ministries have the power but little or no sense of responsi-
bility.’143 On the 7th, Wavell visited Bihar in person. He visited various

136
Damododaran, ‘Bihar in the 1940s’, p. 188.
137
See the account from the CO of the 1st Madras Regiment in Tuker, Memory, pp. 186–8,
and accounts in Appendix VII, pp. 620–3.
138
For more detail, see ibid., where an ofﬁcer from the 4/10th Gurkha Riﬂes describes his
company’s role in Bihar.
139
The 5th Indian Division had returned from service in the NEI; one of its brigades, the
161st, had been placed in East Bengal to deal with the violence there.
140
Tuker, Memory, pp. 622–3.
141
Tuker felt that the police, when supported by the army, tended to perform better than
expected, but still not to a consistently high standard: Memory, pp. 188–9.
142
Dow to Wavell, 6 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 19, p. 39.
143
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, pp. 372–3. See also his letter of 22 November
to Pethick-Lawrence, TOP, IX, 77, pp. 139–40, for a more nuanced discussion of the
violence and the role of Congress and the League.

Congress, police, army, and League ofﬁcials, as well as Nehru. Wavell

noted afterwards that Nehru was trying to ‘check the troubles’.144 His
assessment of the local Congress leadership was scathing, actually refer-
ring to the chief minister, Sinha, as a ‘gangster’. He told Sinha in person
‘that his government has disgraced and discredited Bihar; that it was
criminal folly to allow Noakhali Day to be celebrated . . . lowering the
morale of the Police and [that,] in failing to control the Press, [his
government] had led directly to the present tragedy’.145
It appears that decisions about use of minimum force were largely
being left to individual commanders at this time.146 One platoon had
to contend with a mob of a thousand men; they fired into the crowd,
fixed bayonets, and cleared them out. Most of the army’s efforts,
however, were focused on escorting refugees. The violence inflicted
upon the Muslim community by the Hindus was immense; within a
month, more than 60,000 refugees had left the province.147 The efforts
of Lt Col Venning and the 1st Madras Regiment during this period were
highly commended. The regiment, who were all Hindus, carried out
their difficult tasks against co-religionists with unflagging professional-
ism, inflicting heavy casualties and evacuating some 12,000 Muslim
refugees.148
Wavell summed up the efforts of the Indian Army troops in Bihar in a
telegram to Lord Pethick-Lawrence on 9 November as follows: ‘The
morale of the Indian troops is high and all ranks, irrespective of commu-
nity, are determined to put down the disturbances.’149 Intelligence
reports coming into GHQ India, assessing the morale of the units in the
field, were generally optimistic; one from November stated: ‘a refreshing
feature of the intelligence reports received during the last month is that
most COs are of the opinion that the Army, generally speaking, continues
to be free from communal squabbles which rage amongst civilians
outside . . . [D]espite an increasing interest in politics, there are still no

144
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 373. Dow also indicated that Nehru was
helpful: ‘Nehru has been here for some days . . . denouncing the atrocities committed by
Hindus in Bihar’ (Dow to Wavell, 6 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 19, p. 39).
145
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 374.
146
See description of Lt Col Venning and the 1st Madras in the village of Nagar Nahusa
and their constant ﬁghting against the killing squads that numbered close to 4,000 men:
Tuker, Memory, pp. 189–90.
147
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, p. 73.
148
Tuker, Memory, p. 190. Tuker added, ‘the record of Colonel Venning’s operations
supports everything that I have to say about the complete impartiality and soldierly
behaviour of the Indian Army under this violent test. His men were nearly all Hindus
and they fought against great odds with great determination against their co-religionists’
(ibid.).
149
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 9 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 20, p. 40.

indications that the ranks are prepared to let . . . political convictions

affect . . . relations with . . . comrades or . . . loyalty for the Army.’150
As had happened in Calcutta, the well-organised violence began to
affect what was considered ‘minimum force’. Governor Sir Hugh Dow
raised this issue in a letter to Wavell on 23 November, where he
described how, confronted with huge numbers of violent protestors,
army troops and police had to shoot to kill large numbers within the
mobs – actions which he and his ministry supported. However, he went
on to point out that various community members were now accusing the
army and police of using excessive force. He asserted that he considered
this accusation quite unjustified, and asked for the viceroy’s support for
military and police efforts. He ended by stating: ‘I have nothing but
praise and admiration for the spirit in which every one of the military
officers I have met is carrying out an extremely distasteful task.’151
Internal Indian Army intelligence reporting on morale concurred with
this sentiment, stating that the army was carrying out its duties with
professionalism and no hint of communalism. The reports highlighted
that, when politics were discussed by soldiers, VCOs, or officers, discus-
sions tended to focus on political parties’ complicity in incidents of vio-
lence, and expressions of contempt for the political officials involved.152

Violence in Garhmukteshwar, November 1946

As violence began to subside in Bihar, it erupted in the United Provinces,
near Garhmukteshwar in the Meerut district. The annual Kartik Purnima
Mela, a Hindu festival, was being held to the north of the town in early
November, and close to 1 million Hindu pilgrims had arrived in the area.
The ﬁrst few days of the festival were quiet, although the authorities were
aware of rising communal tension.153 The initial violence broke out on 6
November, in response to a rumour that a Hindu woman had been insulted
by a Muslim at the festival. In retaliation, Muslim-owned stalls and bystand-
ers were attacked, and within hours many Muslims who were at the fair had
been raped, killed, or both. Once again, violence aimed at women and
children was well organised.154 Also once again, police appeared to stand

150
Intelligence Reports, No. 18, Nov. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
151
Dow to Wavell, 22/23 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 79, p. 150.
152
Morale Reports, 31 Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1637, OIOC, BL. One key ﬁnding was that:
‘communal relations appear to have withstood satisfactorily . . . and they had earned the
respect and appreciation of the local civilians’.
153
Tuker, Memory, p. 195.
154
See ibid., p. 198, for more detail. See also Sir F. Wylie, Governor of the United
Provinces, to Pethick-Lawrence, 8 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 15, p. 30. Yasmin Khan, in

by and watch, without intervening. All of the police in the area were Hindu,
and Lt Gen. Tuker believed that they genuinely feared for their own lives,
and were not just avoiding confrontation with their co-religionists.155
The violence initially appeared to be contained at the fair; however, on
the 7th, well-organised bands moved out from the fairgrounds to attack
the Muslim section of Garhmukteshwar. There were numerous reports
of former soldiers among the attackers, as well as members of the
political militia, the Rashtriya Swayam Sevak Sangh (RSS Sangh), which
included former INA members.156 The mob descended upon the
Muslim quarter, guided by local Hindus; women were raped and killed,
children were slaughtered in front of their parents.157 Police were heavily
outnumbered and their minimal interventions were overtaken by well-
organised attacks. The mobs cleared the town, then proceeded further
afield and began clearing Muslims from the adjoining villages. The
attacks went on for days, spreading to Meerut and Rohtak in the Punjab.
The army responded by calling out the Royal Garhwal Rifles from
Meerut on 8 November, which tipped the balance and slowly restored
order.158 An Indian police officer, discussing attempts to curb communal
violence, emphasised the importance of the army’s presence: ‘in spite of
the official efforts to minimize the extent of this tragedy the news spread
like wild fire, as we tried to dampen the smouldering tensions by arran-
ging flag marches throughout the district by Army units available . . .
[T]he sight of tanks [Poona Horse] often with local police had some
temporary effect in that the government forces were in control.’159
Rumours began to circulate almost immediately that the attacks had
been organised before the festival took place, and the Congress-run
United Province government came in for heavy criticism. News of the
initial attacks was kept quiet from the authorities outside the district for
several days, and this reinforced opinions that the local police were
biased. One issue reiterated throughout all correspondence was the lack
of troops to cover all the disturbances. This was only going to get worse,
as violence spread and more troops were demobilised.160

‘Out of Control? Partition Violence and the State in Uttar Pradesh’, in Ian Talbot, ed.,
The Deadly Embrace: Religion, Politics and Violence in India and Pakistan, 1947–2002
(Oxford University Press, 2007), pp. 36–59, writes that ‘what transpired from late 1946
in UP was vicious targeted attacks on minorities, including women and children’
(p. 41).
155 156
Tuker, Memory, p. 198. Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, p. 74.
157
Initial estimates reported that more than 2,500 were killed on the ﬁrst day: Sir Francis
Vernie Wylie to Pethick-Lawrence, 9 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 21, p. 40.
158
Tuker, Memory, pp. 200–1.
159
Mss Eur C290 Channing Pearce, Indian Police, United Province, OIOC, BL.
160
See Yasmin Khan, ‘Out of Control?’, pp. 38–9, for more discussion.

Wavell reported his initial ﬁndings on the recent communal vio-

lence to Pethick-Lawrence on 22 November 1946, and raised several
points of interest. In particular, he was uncertain as to whether to
place blame on the two major political parties (the Muslim League
and the Indian National Congress):
The Muslims are to blame for their policy of ‘direct action’, which led to the
Calcutta killings in August . . . and for the Noakhali and Tippera disturbances,
which were probably instigated by supporters of the Muslim League, though I am
certain that the leaders of the Muslim League had nothing to do with it. But the
retaliations in Bihar and the United Provinces have been, on a scale of numbers
and degree of brutality, far beyond anything that I think has yet happened in India
since British rule began. And they were undoubtedly organised, and organised
very thoroughly, by supporters of Congress; again I am sure that the leaders were
not involved, although I think that some of the Bihar Ministers acted recklessly
and irresponsibly.

He went on to say that ‘neither the Police nor the Indian ofﬁcials can now
be relied on thoroughly to act impartially’.161 In a different report, he
asserted that the Indian Army was carrying out its duties and avoiding
any accusations of communalism – but wondered for how long this
would be the case.162

Breakdown Plan and the Indian Army

Lord Wavell had begun work on a ‘Breakdown Plan’ in early June, in
response to the difﬁculties encountered with the Cabinet Mission nego-
tiations.163 From June until mid January, Wavell, various governors, and
Field Marshal Auchinleck discussed and debated details of a phased
withdrawal from India in the event that the situation became untenable,
or if outright civil war broke out.164 Under the Breakdown Plan, many of

161
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 22 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 77, pp. 139–40.
162
Note by Wavell of interview with Muslim League members of cabinet on 21 Nov. 1946,
TOP, IX, 70, pp. 128–30.
163
Some feel that the viceroy’s decision to create the Breakdown Plan was a sign of
desperation. However, to be fair to Wavell, as a military commander who had been
left with a lack of planning in the opening stages of the war against Japan in late 1941
and early 1942, he did not want to be left trying to create a plan of withdrawal in the
midst of a communal war. The behaviour of the various nationalist political parties and
the rising communal violence at the time did make it appear that the situation was
unravelling, something that many in London failed to understand or comprehend.
Where Wavell needed to tread lightly was in mapping out the Indian Army’s role in
the Breakdown Plan.
164
See the many entries in TOP, VII–VIII, and Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal,
for a more detailed discussion of the planning and thought processes.

the southern provinces (Orissa, Madras, Bombay, and the Central

Provinces) would be granted independence immediately, as communal
violence was non-existent in those areas during this period. In response
to the violence in northern India, HMG planned to retain control for a
short time longer, while attempting to implement a final political solu-
tion. The worst-case scenario laid out a withdrawal through the territory
that would be the future Pakistan.
The Indian Army was essential to the implementation and success of
the Breakdown Plan, and Wavell and the others expected that they
would continue in their IS role.165 A meeting focused specifically on
the Indian Army’s role in the plan was held in New Delhi on 30
November 1946; the plan was discussed in detail, as Lord Wavell
prepared to travel to London to brief the plan in person. The specifics
of the plan were:
(a) withdraw with minimum of disorder;
(b) maintain cohesion of the armed forces;
(c) administer shock to induce political leaders to adopt saner outlook;
(d) progressively reduce British responsibility in India while at the same
time, and at each stage, strengthening position in the remaining
territory.166
Discussion in the meeting about the army’s anticipated position and
morale during this period was frank. One comment recorded in the
minutes put the position bluntly: ‘[We] cannot expect to maintain indef-
initely the integrity of the Army, since it is known that British officers,
who alone hold the Army together, are leaving soon.’167
Auchinleck was not happy about either the plan or the discussions. He
reiterated that the Indian Army had repeatedly demonstrated that it
stood firm against communalism. He maintained that the current British
officers must remain with their units during the withdrawal, to maintain
cohesion at all costs. He also pointed out that thus far the Indian Army
was the only disciplined force in which communal interests were subor-
dinate to duty. He was most damning in his last point of the meeting,

165
Wavell was very clear about the continuing need for the Indian Army, writing that ‘the
continued existence of any semblance of law and order in the country depends almost
entirely on the reliability and cohesion of the Indian Army’ (Wavell to Pethick-
Lawrence, 8 Sep. 1946, TOP, VIII, 286, p. 457). Pethick-Lawrence was not as
conﬁdent about the loyalty of the Indian Army and how it would function if the plan
was put into force. See his letter to the prime minister, 20 Sep. 1946, TOP, VIII, 342,
esp. p. 553.
166
Hamid attended the meeting with Auchinleck. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 117.
167
30 Nov. 1946, Breakdown Plan, L/WS/1/1058, OIOC, BL.

when he declared: ‘the effective announcement by HMG’s Government

of a phased withdrawal is likely to be very serious. This will create
uncertainty, resulting in the deterioration of morale, and may lead to
desertions with or without arms . . . Finally, it may be necessary to face
the possibility of wholesale disintegration of the Army in India.’168
Wavell briefed the plan to the British cabinet in London on 5
December, and speciﬁcally raised the issue of the Indian Army. He did
not appear to express Auchinleck’s concerns from the meeting on 30
November, stating that ‘there was reasonable prospect of the Indian Army
remaining unaffected and continuing to do its work of Frontier defence
and maintenance of internal security’.169 In a follow-up note to Pethick-
Lawrence on 16 December 1946, Wavell referred to the Breakdown Plan,
and reiterated that ‘the Indian Armed Forces will be maintained intact as
at present, under the command of and control of the CinCI. British
ofﬁcers and other ranks serving with the Indian Armed Forces will not
be withdrawn and will continue to serve with their units.’170
Despite these assertions, Wavell’s Breakdown Plan and his pessimistic
views were not well received. The British secretary of state for foreign
affairs, Ernest Bevin, was critical after the December meetings: he wrote
to Prime Minister Attlee that Wavell was defeatist and should be recalled
at once, and replaced by a person with the courage to uphold the dignity
of the empire and the Commonwealth.171 HMG rejected the Breakdown
Plan in January 1947, and Wavell’s ‘pessimism’ was cited as one of the
reasons for his recall in February 1947.

The position of the Indian Army at the end of 1946

The Indian Army’s performance throughout the difﬁcult days of late
1946 was universally considered professional and non-communal,
especially in comparison to the police and Indian ofﬁcials.172 The mood

168
Ibid., and see Hamid, Disastrous, p. 118.
169
‘Record of Meeting at 10 Downing Street on 5 December 1946’, TOP, IX, 157, p. 278.
170
‘Lord Wavell’s Alternative Draft of Statement on Indian Policy’, TOP, IX, 196, p. 355.
171
Mr Bevin to Attlee, 1 Jan. 1947, TOP, IX, 236, pp. 431–3. Bevin specifically stated that
he felt the Indian Army was capable of handling the situation, but that, if the leadership
of the army deteriorated, then the army could fall apart.
172
Maj. James Wilson (later Lt Gen. Sir James Wilson) noted, when he was the academy
adjutant at the Indian Military Academy (IMA, Dehra Dun) during 1946 and 1947,
that ‘. . . the attitude of the Indian officers of the Army was different [from that of the
police and civil service who were seen as communally biased]. The British officers, very
much in the minority by now, received complete loyalty, support and co-operation from
their Indian brother officers during this difficult period’ (Lt Gen. Sir James Wilson,
Unusual Undertakings: A Military Memoir (Barnsley, UK: Leo Cooper, 2002), p. 147).

was positive at the end of 1946, with various reports claiming that the
situation was more settled. Auchinleck, in a major intelligence report on
15 November, highlighted several issues that would need to be addressed
if there were to be any hope of calming things down conclusively, noting
that: ‘we have been able to compete [so far] with the considerable
disturbances and consequent dispersion of troops’. He went on to assert,
however, that ‘we have not yet demobilized to the extent planned for 1
April 1947 . . . .[I]f the disturbances continue or increase, and the Army
continues to be reduced, we shall find it increasingly difficult for the
Army to carry out the calls made on it to give assistance to the Civil
Power.’173 The steady rate of demobilisation had already added to
the problems in 1946, as report after report stressed the ‘organised’
behaviour of the killing squads in much of the violence. The director of
intelligence at GHQ India raised similar issues in his report for the
CinCI, and pointedly requested a halt to demobilisation, not only citing
the recent violence, but also pointing out that the reasons for outbreaks of
violence since August had not been removed and that all indications were
that the situation would only get worse.174
Wavell noted in November that ‘only the army had so far escaped any
taint of communalism and was carrying out its duties’.175 In response to
the changing political mood and rise of communal violence, the Indian
Army’s Intelligence Branch decided late in 1946 that all subsequent intelli-
gence reports would carry the heading, ‘Political and Communal’.176 The
first official report under this heading, published in December 1946,
recorded that ‘COs continue to emphasise the spirit of co-operation and
mutual good will existing between members of different communities
in all the services . . . [M]ore reports have been reviewed commenting on
the fairness and impartiality of Indian troops engaged in internal security
duties . . . [A]ll ranks have come to realise the great responsibility that lies
in their hands.’177

173
‘Indian Political Situation, 15 November 1946, CinCI Appreciation of Internal
Defence Situation’, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL. He went on to say that, until the
police in Bihar and Calcutta were rehabilitated, the Indian Army could not be
thinned out.
174
Director of Intelligence Assessment, 23 Nov. 1946, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
175
21 Nov. 1946, Wavell Papers, OIOC, BL. See Chapter 6 for a more detailed discussion
of the demobilisation, division, and nationalisation of the Indian Army during 1946 and
1947.
176
Field Marshal Auchinleck, in July, had created a small team to assess morale within the
army. It was headed by Brig. A. A. Rudra and included three other ICOs. They
reported directly to Auchinleck: Hamid, Disastrous, p. 84.
177
Intelligence Reports, No. 19, 2 Dec. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL. The month’s
ﬁndings included several appendices; one reported that ‘communal harmony amongst
the IORs in this unit is very obvious and though the troops are drawn from many

However, Lt Gen. Tuker’s account may provide a more accurate

assessment of the mood of the community as 1946 drew to a close.
Large-scale violence in Eastern Command had been contained, but
communal tensions remained high. The army was stretched in its ability
to respond to incidents of violence, and many British members of the
ICS and police officers were leaving India. Observers questioned who
would fill the growing administrative and security vacuum. And over all
of these loomed the spectre of potential communal violence in the
Punjab. Tuker wrote:
1946 passed into 1947, with trouble everywhere in Eastern Command, the
aftermath of the horrors of Calcutta, East Bengal, Bihar and Garhmukteswar,
and with a lurid and lowering sky in the Punjab – the one province to which we in
the Army turned all our eyes, almost regardless of what might happen on our own
doorstep. If the Punjab burst, the chances were that the mixed units of the Indian
Army would burst also and that all of India would collapse . . . [T]he feeling of
responsibility was great: the feeling of frustration at the impotence of our
Government, acute.178
Senior Indian officials, such as Sardar Baldev Singh, were concerned as
well: ‘the army had been well disciplined up to now and there had been
no difficulty with Indian troops in Calcutta, but if bigger communal riots
occurred some parts of the army might be affected’.179
An intelligence report from early 1947 describes how ‘a feeling of quiet
satisfaction appears to prevail amongst the Indian soldiers in general . . .
[T]roops of all castes are employed to deal with civil disturbances . . .
without any traces of communal discrimination arising.’ A February
1947 report added more detail, commenting that ‘interest in communal
affairs exists and can hardly be otherwise, as men going on leave to areas

different classes, religions, and parties of India, they mingle freely with each other and
relations amongst themselves [are] excellent’. Another went into greater detail: ‘More
reports have been received commenting on the fairness and impartiality of Indian troops
that engaged in IS duties . . . [A]ll ranks have come to realize the great responsibility that
lies in their hands. They have seen murder and arson committed before the arrival of the
military . . . [T]he men carry out their duty in the knowledge that as yet the Army is
above politics and that any action which they are called upon to take in good faith will
always be supported by higher authority.’ The question for many was how long the army
would feel this way about their political masters.
178
Tuker, Memory, p. 203. Wainwright also stated that the troops in Eastern Command
had nothing but contempt for the ﬁghting abilities of the communal gangs in Bengal
and Bihar, which contributed to Tuker’s assessment that things in Eastern Command
should remain relatively stable in the coming months (‘Keeping the Peace in India’,
p. 137).
179
Indian Conference in London, 4 Dec. 1946, L/P&J/10/111, OIOC, BL; also found in
‘Record of Meeting in the Secretary of State’s Room at the India Ofﬁce, London’, TOP,
IX, 155, p. 266. Singh would state later in the month, ‘the Army has done its duty
wonderfully well in recent disturbances’. See TOP, IX, enclosure to 211, p. 389.

where communal disturbances have taken place naturally absorb a cer-

tain amount of local attitudes . . . however, relations between the different
communities in units continue to be harmonious.’180
While the army appeared to be functioning well in the trials of late
1946 and early 1947, the abilities of the ICS and police to do their part in
providing Aid to the Civil Power were being called into question. Wavell
submitted a report in early December 1946, for circulation to the India
and Burma Committee in London. The most challenging part of the
report was the findings highlighted in ‘Note on Morale of the Services in
Provinces’, which had been gathered from interviews and reports from
across the country:
1942 [the Quit India movement] left a legacy of bitterness. Men guilty then of
crimes of violence have been released and made into public heroes. Officials who
did their duty then have been publicly disgraced . . . [T]here has also been a
steady deterioration of the administration, which was perhaps inevitable. There
has been much political interference, and worst of all, Indian officials have felt
compelled by political pressure to identify themselves with the Congress or the
Muslim League instead of standing out as impartial members of an impartial
Service . . . [T]here may be a suspicion that the Services, reporting on their own
morale, are now exaggerating, and that they are thinking of compensation and of
their future and nothing else. This is unfair and untrue . . . [T]he catastrophic
effect of recent events on the Police service as a whole in Bengal and in Bihar can
be judged by the ineffectiveness of the early action by the police both in the
Calcutta disturbances and in the Bihar disturbances . . . [T]hey were uncertain of
support, and their experience had taught them that the best thing for the
individual’s future is to get out of a critical situation without having taken any
definite action at all. The evidence of demoralization of the police in these two
provinces is very convincing. Other services elsewhere might fail similarly under a
similar test.181
A meeting of the British cabinet was convened on 10 December 1946 to
discuss the recent troubles and political impasse in India in detail, as well
as assess the morale of the police, ICS, and army. The prime minister
raised the spectre of civil war and government collapse, and perhaps
summed up the army’s difficult position best when he advised the cabinet
that ‘the Indian Army, though the Commander in Chief had great personal

180
Intelligence Reports, Nos. 20 and 21, L/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
181
India and Burma Committee Paper IB (46) 41 ‘Morale of the Services in the Provinces of
India’, note by the Secretary of State for India, 5 Dec. 1946, TOP, IX, 156, pp. 269–70.
See also Wavell’s comments to the cabinet on 11 December 1946, where he reiterated the
issues of morale within the Indian services and police. He did add a comment regarding
the Indian Army: ‘at present the Indian Army remained loyal, but a very severe and
increasing strain was being put upon its discipline’ (Cabinet, 11 Dec. 1946, TOP, IX,
186, p. 334).

inﬂuence with it, could not fairly be expected to prove a reliable instrument
for maintaining public order in conditions tantamount to civil war’.182
As difﬁcult as 1946 had been, there was no expectation of improve-
ment in 1947. Issues of demobilisation and division of the army, as the
date for independence and partition drew closer, would increasingly test
the resolve of the Indian Army. The professionalism born out of the
crucible of the Second World War, and honed and tested again in
operations in South East Asia and in Aid to the Civil Power operations
at home, were consistently commended by both the political and military
leadership throughout 1946. How long it could continue in the face
of mounting challenges was the question looming on the horizon as
1947 dawned.

182
Cabinet Conclusions, 10 Dec. 1946, TOP, IX, 181, p. 319.

The armed forces as a whole have been built upon a non-communal

basis. They have, fortunately for India, remained free from communal
complications up until now . . . [I]f even the mere indication of splitting
the armed forces is allowed to gain ground at this stage, it will result in
creating chaotic conditions in the ranks and disintegration will set in
almost immediately . . . [I]n the communally surcharged atmosphere . . .
such a contingency would be too disastrous to contemplate.1
Sardar Baldev Singh, 25 April 1947

In the midst of growing communal violence in 1946 and 1947, major

decisions were being made about the future organisation of the Indian
Army. Following the army’s expansion during the Second World War, it
was of course necessary to decrease the army’s size to a more economic-
ally sustainable level in the post-war period. However, it was necessary
to balance economic considerations against the reality of increasing
communal violence in India, as well as the mission of the Indian Army
for ‘imperial policing duties’ in South East Asia, and the need for troops
to fill both roles. The community situation created an additional conse-
quence of demobilisation, which was to remove trained soldiers from one
side of the equation and add them, demobilised and possibly dissatisfied,
to the other, more volatile side.
Another concern during this period was the need to nationalise or
Indianise the Indian Army’s officer corps. There was no debate on
whether this was the correct course of action, in recognition of the
performance of Indian officers during the Second World War, as well
as impending political changes; the critical question that remained was
how fast it could be implemented without diminishing the professional-
ism of the army. And, as if these challenges were not sufficient, as 1947
dawned and the likelihood of partition became more and more apparent,
the question began to emerge of how best to manage the division of the

1
Mountbatten Papers, Ofﬁcial Correspondence Files: Armed Forces, 25 Apr. 1947,
OIOC, BL.

239

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240 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

Figure 6.1 Lord Wavell (middle) and General Claude Auchinleck

(right) meet with Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery (left) in New
Delhi © Imperial War Museums (Image No. IND 5205)

Indian Army into two separate forces, along communal lines. In this
particular discussion, decisions about the Brigade of Gurkhas provided
an additional challenge.
All of these issues, each complex in its own right, had to be resolved on
an ever-changing time schedule and in the midst of dealing with un-
precedented internal violence. Any army in history would have struggled
to cope with fundamental changes in organisation, size, composition,
ofﬁcer ranks, and division. The performance of the Indian Army during
these upheavals is a testament to the esprit de corps that still existed within
its ranks.

Demobilisation
At the end of the war, the Indian Army stood at some 2.5 million men. As
soon as peace was declared, the Indian and British governments moved
quickly to demobilise most of the army, primarily as a cost-saving meas-
ure and with minimal reference to the societal, political, and economic

ramiﬁcations of such an undertaking. Various proposals were put

forward to slow plans for demobilisation; Gen. Auchinleck and the senior
command expressed both fear that too many issues remained unresolved
on the political side, and their belief that the Indian Army would be
required to serve as the backbone of a secure society. Matters, however,
had been taken out of their hands.
The issue of demobilisation had been discussed and debated early in
the war. In the pre-war Indian Army of 1914 and 1939, many soldiers,
NCOs, and VCOs had been given land grants for their service in the
army. Officials realised quite early on that this would be out of the
question for demobbed soldiers after the Second World War.2 Instead,
as with the demobilisation following the First World War, the decision
was made to offer cash grants to soldiers who left the service at the end
of the war. By July 1942, a Directorate of Demobilization and Recon-
struction had been created in preparation for the war’s end.3 These
preparations, however, proved to be inadequate in confronting many of
the realities of demobilisation. For example, an internal secret report
reported that ‘the younger of these men know little of the land and
will, unless inducements are given, tend to crowd to the cities to seek
the opportunity to make use of their technical skill. Many will inevit-
ably swell the ranks of the unemployed. Disgruntled many would turn
to the only other trade they know, fighting, and become dacoits
[criminals].’4
Other discussions during the war focused on the future size and
outlook of the Indian Army, at a time when the Indian Army had just
been defeated in the Far East. Field Marshal Wavell, then CinCI,
responded to a letter written by Secretary of State for India Leo Amery
on 16 January 1943, enquiring about the future composition and size of
the army. Wavell responded that any future committee to determine this
should be convened with little fanfare, pointing out that, ‘We want
the officer and the soldier to be thinking entirely now of how to win the
present war and not of their future after it; and I am sure it would have an
unsettling effect if it became known that we were considering the futures

2
There was one major exception. Men – NCOs, VCOs, and ICOs who received military
honours for gallantry – were given small land grants. See Anirudh Deshpande, ‘Hopes
and Disillusionment: Recruitment, Demobilization and the Emergence of Discontent in
the Indian Armed Forces After the Second World War’, Indian Economic and Social
History Review, Jun. 1996, p. 195.
3
A speciﬁc section had been created in 1941, to lay out the future planning of
demobilisation. As the war progressed, its name would change and it would take on
other issues, such as welfare and amenities. See Demobilization of the Indian Army,
Adjutant General (Simla: Government of India Press, 1947), p. 1.
4
Quoted in Deshpande, ‘Hopes’, p. 198.

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242 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

of officers and men.’5 Amery passed along Wavell’s points to the then
viceroy, the Marquess of Linlithgow, agreeing that any committee
formed should be kept confidential and that some sort of assessment of
the future position of India in twenty to thirty years’ time was essential.
He added that there must also be some sort of assessment of ‘progressive
Indianization in the higher ranks of the services and what role future
British officers would play’.6
The Army Commanders Conferences at the end of the Second World
War began to consider potential layout, size, and demobilisation scenarios
for the post-war army. The first conference, which took place in August
1945, focused on the army’s future mission, as well as the contentious issues
of the size and composition of the officer corps. It also raised the possibility
that, ‘as regards to training, it may well be that troops will be required for
police duties’.7 The report for this conference focused on relationships
between Indian and British officers, calling on all commanders to ensure
complete integration and to remove anyone who did not support the effort.8
The General Staff Branch, New Delhi, proposed the first major plan-
ning of the size of the army for 1946 and 1947 in October 1945. They
expected the army to have dropped from 2.5 million men to 700,000
men, NCOs, VCOs, and officers by the end of 1946. The tally was broken
into two key areas: India and overseas. Internal numbers were broken
down to 42 Indian battalions for frontier defence; 20 Indian battalions for
internal defence; and 6 Indian divisions for general reserve (initially with
200,000 men overseas, although this number would change in response
to demands for more troops in the NEI).9 Another Army Commanders
Conference took place in November 1945, to discuss some of the pro-
posals for demobilisation, including scenarios for drawdown of various
corps and divisions.10 The CinCI declared that the future role of the
Indian Army was to be trained for overseas duties and defence of India,
with internal security listed as the third priority. He stressed that the army
should not be used as a heavily armed police force.11

5
Wavell to Marquess of Linlithgow, Viceroy of India, 25 Jan. 1943, TOP, III, 360, p. 539.
6
Amery to Linlithgow, TOP, III, 8 Feb. 1943, 437, pp. 631–7.
7
Army Commanders Conference, Aug. 1945, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL.
8
Ibid.
9
Reorganisation of Post War Army in India, 30 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/999, OIOC, BL.
10
The CinCI asked for two corps, one armoured division, one airborne division, five
infantry divisions, and two independent armoured brigades.
11
Army Commanders Conference, Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL. Gen. Auchinleck
sent a note to the War Office earlier in October, specifically stating that the roles of the
army were (1) overseas; (2) frontier defence; and (3) Aid to the Civil Power. He was clear
that he expected the Indian police to attempt to deal with this mission and that it would
always be secondary for the army. See 24 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/999, OIOC, BL.

The Army Conference in November 1945 also discussed the future of

the officer corps, as well as the ‘class composition’ of the army. The
CinCI understood that there were many officers, including senior
officers, who had biases (for or against) various ‘martial races’. He
addressed this directly, noting that ‘before the war, class composition
was too haphazard and too much governed by personal likes and
dislikes. A special committee has to be set up to examine the problem
on a scientific basis. When the decisions of the committee are published
and changes become necessary, army commanders are asked to accept
these changes loyally and cheerfully . . . for the good of the Army as a
whole.’12
While discussions about plans for demobilisation were continued,
events such as deployments to FIC and NEI and growing internal strife
slowed the practical process down.13 Reports indicated that nearly 1
million Indian soldiers, NCOs, and VCOs, as well as Indian and British
officers, were to have been demobilised by early 1946. GHQ India
asserted, however, that this goal could not be accomplished and still
meet internal and external commitments.
The specific procedures for release were worked out in early February
1946, and involved three levels. The first level called for the release of any
soldier, NCO, VCO, or officer categorised as medical level B or C; the
CO had a vote in keeping any member of his regiment or battalion if they
fell into either category. The second level encompassed all men who
wished to leave and had served their contract. The third level comprised
individuals who failed various intelligence tests. All COs were asked to
use discretion in relation to deficiencies identified at all levels.14

12
Army Commanders Conference, Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL. The first
attempt to reform some of the pre-war practices came up in April 1946. The 16th
Light Cavalry, a famous old Madras regiment, was to be reformed and reconstituted
with recruits from Madras. It had formerly recruited from northern Indians, including
Jats and Rajputs. Some soldiers who had been earmarked for demobilisation from the
Madras region were offered a posting in the 16th Light Cavalry. The conversion was to
occur in three phases: (a) formation of cadres, Madrassi instructors, calling for
volunteers; (b) individual training; (c) collective training (Post War Organization of
the Indian Army, GHQ India, 23 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/1488, OIOC, BL).
13
CinCI to War Office, 29 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1002, OIOC, BL. Auchinleck specifically
states that initial planning (Plan 287) for demobilisation was not realistic in light of
demands from SEAC for occupation duties and civil strife already present domestically.
He had also expressed this opinion in a letter dated 27 November. The reasons stating
why demobilisation had to slow down were (a) an increase rather than decrease in
SEAC; (b) non-return from SEAC of certain formations; (c) no disbandment of units
in India as they were needed for Aid to the Civil Power duties. See Demob and Release
Scheme, 27 Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/930, OIOC, BL.
14
‘Adjutant General Release Scheme – Indian Army’, Demob and Release Scheme, 14
Feb. 1946, L/WS/1/931, OIOC, BL.

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244 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

The list of overseas deployments in April 1946 underscores the

demands being placed on the army at the same time as plans for demo-
bilisation were being discussed. There were two Indian brigades still in the
Middle East, and close to four divisions still in Burma. Malaya had nearly
three divisions; Hong Kong had a brigade; the NEI had close to four
divisions; Borneo and Siam had one division; and two brigades remained
in Japan.15 These were in addition to the units and formations in India
fully engaged in dealing with internal security issues. There were forty-
three battalions assigned to frontier defence, sixty British and Indian
battalions on IS duties, and close to four divisions as the general reserve.16
During the period from VJ Day until the end of April 1946, close to
600,000 men, NCOs, VCOs, and officers were demobilised,17 and more
than 2,000 units were disbanded.18 Internal reports from this period
expressed concern about employment opportunities for these men.
One early report indicated that, of the first 500,000 men demobilised,
only 9,000 had found employment. It attempted to offset this number by
recording that 35% of the released men had stated that they did not
require employment, as they had individual means of livelihood, but still
confirmed that some 50% of the 500,000 men demobilised were seeking
employment.19
The Indian Army did not just release the men into the civil arena with
no skills. One example: the Rajputana Rifles Regimental Centre, during
the period from VJ Day to summer 1946, demobbed 6,000 men and 50
officers. Each regimental centre created a demobbed centre. The men
went through a nine-week course, where they learned poultry farming
and animal husbandry, as well as basic accounting. It was a requirement
that men were to leave with two qualifications.20 However, many issues

15
Lt Gen. Cowan commanded the Indian troops in Japan. He wrote in 1946 to Gen.
Auchinleck that there was a club there for the Indian troops, named the Auchinleck
Club, because the CinCI ‘is always thinking of his troops’ (Publicity and Press Release,
29 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/742, OIOC, BL).
16
Plan for Demobilization of the Indian Army, Plan 287, Jan.–Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/1001,
OIOC, BL.
17
The average rate was 70,000 to 80,000 men per month. By the end of 1946, more than
1.3 million men had been demobilised. See Demobilization of the Indian Army, ‘Releases –
All Army Forces’, p. 19.
18
Publicity and Press Release, ‘Reductions in GHQ Staff’, 30 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/742,
OIOC, BL. An interesting reference was made on 8 May 1946 (ibid.) regarding the
reduction of ofﬁcer strength in GHQ India due to previous war-time pressures. It stated
that more than 28 per cent of the ofﬁcer positions had been lost since VJ Day.
19
Publicity, 10 May 1946, L/WS/1/742, OIOC, BL.
20
Publicity, 13 Jul. 1946, L/WS/1/742, OIOC, BL. The 14th Punjab Regimental Centre
also offered courses in agricultural and other skills for the demobbed soldiers. In the
event, however, only 30 per cent of demobbed soldiers took the courses over the two-
year period. See Lt Col J. L. Cotton, 8002–68, NAM.

remained for some as they sought work upon demobilisation. Many of

these individuals would come to haunt the Indian Army, since they took
their dangerous skills and served as instructors for or leaders of the
various political militias,21 or served as bodyguards for politicians.22
Fears of a demobilised and militarised society began to surface in
March 1946.23 One intelligence report highlighted disaffection within
the Jat Sikh ranks, who wondered why they were being demobbed and
expressed anger at such a move.24 An outside observer noted in East
Bengal that ‘the great majority of the depot staff and demobbed men
were war-time recruits whose standard of discipline had suffered from
hurried initial training [this was not entirely accurate after 1943] and
then by the boredom of waiting for demobilization . . . [T]hese men
soon started to join in the INA and the political receptions.’25 Demo-
bilisation accelerated during the summer of 1946, as more units and
formations were brought back to India from the Middle East and South
East Asia.26
In early September, Jawaharlal Nehru, member for external affairs and
Commonwealth relations within the Interim Government and head of
the Indian National Congress, wrote a lengthy letter to Field Marshal
Auchinleck outlining his views on the Indian Army. He emphasised the
importance of the Indian Army feeling like a national army; removing
communal feelings;27 ending martial-race recruitment policies; and
stafﬁng with Indians from the top to the bottom. He also expressed his
opinion that it should not be used to quell internal disturbances, or to
carry out security duties in the former British colonies of South East Asia;
and that all British troops should be removed. He did state that India
should be proud of the army’s efforts in the last war.28

21
Ayesha Jalal describes both ex-INA and demobilised soldiers seeking employment in
armed political militias. See Jalal, Self and Sovereignty, pp. 525–7. See also Chapter 7,
dealing with 1947, for more details on the various militias.
22
See Jalal, Self and Sovereignty, p. 524.
23
See Deshpande, ‘Hopes’, pp. 193–205, for an in-depth discussion of key issues such as
land allocation for veterans, retraining programmes instituted to help veterans back into
civilian society, and reasons for the discontent among Indian other ranks.
24
Intelligence Reports, Mar. 1946, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
25
Mss Eur C290 Channing Pearce, Indian Police, OIOC, BL.
26
Plan for Demobilization of the Indian Army, Plan 287, Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1001, OIOC,
BL.
27
Lt Col Hamid was scathing in response to this point. He stated: ‘Nehru did not care to
remember that he was the one who inﬂamed communal feelings and bitter resentment in
the Army by pleading the cause of the INA. He forgot that the Army carries out the
orders of the duly constituted Government and had therefore nothing to fear from it’
(Hamid, Disastrous, p. 104).
28
Nehru to Auchinleck, 12 Sep. 1946, No. 1193, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. See also Hamid’s entry for 14 September 1946 in Disastrous, p. 102.

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246 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

Auchinleck responded a few days later. He addressed many of Nehru’s

concerns, but his letter also indicates that Nehru was not fully aware of
many of the institutional reforms that had taken place in the army during
the war, or of feeling among army personnel regarding the future.
Auchinleck’s overarching theme was that there should be no slackening
of discipline or obedience to a properly constituted authority. He
asserted that his intent was to make the Indian Army a national one,
and that he had always insisted on it being non-communal and
non-political. He pointed out his own long record of pushing for a wider
distribution of all races of India into the army, and the fact that the term
‘martial races’ was already forbidden usage.29 He reiterated that the
quelling of internal disturbances was chiefly the job of the police and
not the army, but that the army’s involvement had been required when
the police had proved unequal to the task for various reasons. He noted
that the army had urged the GOI repeatedly to strengthen the police, so
that the army would not be required to act in the Aid to the Civil Power.
He confirmed that nationalisation of the army was progressing, although
hampered by a shortage of officers of sufficient quality, and stressed that
complete nationalisation must be undertaken cautiously, so as not to
undermine the stability and efficiency of the army. He was able to assure
Nehru that all his issues had been addressed, including the issue of
troops overseas.30 Unfortunately, these exchanges mainly served to high-
light the lack of communication and understanding between the future
political leadership and the military high command.
By October 1946, there were 800,000 men, NCOs, VCOs, and officers
in the Indian Army.31 This number was due to be decreased to 387,000
by April 1947; one report stated that the bulk of the infantry would be
demobilised during the months of November, December, and January as
troops arrived back from service in Malaya, Japan, the Middle East, and
the NEI.32 With internal security problems on the rise at the end of 1946,
GHQ India asserted that if 387,000 men were too few to deal with
specific problems, the army needed to provide an alternative figure.33

29
During the Second World War, the term had ofﬁcially been dropped due to its political
connotations and the need for many races to join the army.
30
Auchinleck to Nehru, 17 Sep. 1946, No. 1194, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester, and Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 104–5.
31
The 14th Punjab Regimental Centre demobbed 750 soldiers a month. It was ordered to
handle 1,000 a month if need be: Cotton, 8002–68, NAM.
32
More than six divisions of troops were serving overseas at this time. See Army
Commanders Conference, Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1523, OIOC, BL.
33
Pethick-Lawrence in September had also called for the British troops that were in India
to remain at full strength to support the Indian Army in IS duties as more were
demobilised. This last issue would cause much debate within the Interim

In response, Field Marshal Auchinleck called for 500,000 to remain,34

stating that 387,000 were not enough to carry out all the various duties of
an army, particularly internal security.35
At the end of 1946, the Interim Government’s minister for defence,
Sardar Baldev Singh, wrote an assessment of the demobilisation process
and Field Marshal Auchinleck’s key role in it. He sent a letter to Prime
Minister Attlee, requesting an extension of tenure for Auchinleck to
serve as CinCI:
[he] has rendered very good service to the Armed Forces of this country and is
popular with all Ranks. He has invaluable experience of many years to his credit
and knows the country and its problems well. In the present uncertain political
atmosphere of this country, I felt that I should have a man as Commander-In-
Chief in whom I have full faith . . . Another important consideration . . . is the
problem of reorganization of our Armed Force . . . We are in the process of
demobilization and the task is heavy. From this point of view too, it is
imperative that the Field Marshal should remain with us for some time.36
During the spring and summer of 1947, numbers of army personnel were
drastically reduced; this process also involved the fracturing of units that
had served together, in some cases since the 1840s.37 In February 1947,
the army stood at 736,000 ofﬁcers and men; the demobilisation frame-
work stated that, by April, there would be 434,000 troops left in the
army.38 Senior commanders fretted that ‘the army cannot be looked
upon by the civil power as an enormous reservoir . . . [O]fﬁcers are noting
that their numbers are too low to carry out all their duties and General
Messervy [GOC Northern Command] stated that many units are below
strength.’39 It was also reported at this time that continued demobilisa-
tion and nationalisation would only increase the strain on the army.40
Alongside this internal upheaval, the communal violence in the Punjab
was steadily worsening, reaching a crescendo in August 1947. Gen.
Lockhart was put in command on the North-West Frontier in July

Government, as they wished to see more British troops withdrawn, mostly due to their
costs: Pethick-Lawrence to Lawson, 19 Sep. 1946, L/WS/1/1091, OIOC, BL. See
Nehru’s letter to Wavell, 18 Sep. 1946, TOP, VIII, 331, p. 538, for more details.
34
Indian Political Situation, Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
35
Political Intelligence, Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
36
Sardar Baldev Singh to Attlee, 12 Dec. 1946, TOP, IX, enclosure to 211, p. 389.
37
See pp. 254–73, which focuses on the division and reconstitution of the army.
38
Army Commanders Conference, Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL. See also the
earlier report from 11 January 1947, called Plan 113, in L/WS/1/1000, and Plan for the
Demobilization of the Indian Army, Plan 287, L/WS/1/1001, both OIOC, BL, for more
detail. The initial plan in 1945 had estimated that only 321,000 men would be in the
army by April 1947.
39
Army Commanders Conference, Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL.
40
Ibid.

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248 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

1947; in an ominous letter to Messervy, whose Northern Command

covered the Punjab, he wrote that there were not enough troops in the
province to carry out internal security duties effectively.41 Messervy was
appointed the new CinC of the Pakistan Army in late July; he approached
Mountbatten in early August to advise that the newly formed Pakistan
Army was going to be just thirty-ﬁve battalions, rather than sixty-seven as
originally anticipated, and that those thirty-ﬁve battalions were not going
to be complete. As a result, he and his staff began the work of re-enlisting
10,000 former Punjabi Musalman and Pathan infantrymen back into the
regular Pakistan Army.42

Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army

The state of the Indian Army’s officer corps was far from ideal during the
post-war period. Auchinleck, in an attempt to keep top-performing
Indian officers in the army after the war’s end, asked GHQ India to offer
‘regular’ commissions to 400 EICOs as early as February 1945.43 In July
1945, Auchinleck advised the Indian Army that ‘the process of Indian-
isation should proceed as rapidly as is consistent with the maintenance of
the military efficiency of the Indian Army’.44 Despite these incentives,
numbers were below optimum strength, and as violence erupted, the
officer corps was not only stretched thin, but also lacking experience. In
September 1945, the number of officers stood at 34,590 British and
8,340 Indians. By 1 April 1947, the numbers stood at 11,500 British
officers and 8,400 Indian officers.45
The Indian Army had lost war-experienced British and Indian officers
as a result of various decisions. Primary among these was the decision, in
1945, to award all future regular commissions to Indians.46 This meant
that British emergency commissioned officers (ECOs), as well as regu-
lars, would gradually be replaced through the nationalisation process.
However, the army’s lower officer ranks were also being demobilised
during this period; many experienced Indian commissioned officers
(ICOs), not attracted by the prospect of ‘peace-time’ conditions, decided

41
8310–154/47, 25 Jul. 1947, Lockhart Papers, NAM. See also the planning for the future
deployment of troops for Aid to the Civil Power duties in L/WS/1/1001, OIOC, BL,
forecast in summer of 1946. They originally earmarked only twelve battalions; this was
all well before the beginning of the communal civil war that would erupt in August 1946.
42
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 16, 8 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 385, pp. 590–606.
43
Auchinleck to Gen. Mayne, Feb. 1945, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.
44
Auchinleck to Indian Army, Jul. 1945, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.
45
Barua, Gentlemen of the Raj, p. 130.
46
Government of India to Sec. of State for India, 7 Oct. 1945, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 249

to leave the army instead. A large number of British ofﬁcers also

requested speedy demobilisation, so that they could seek employment,
either as civilians in the UK or with the British Army.47 An internal
report from August 1945 stated that:
as regards actual numbers, there are now sufficient Indian officers to fill the
junior officer cadre of the Indian Army of 1939 model . . . [A]s regards
seniority, practical experience, education and military qualifications, this
position is very different. There are at present only 40 ICOs holding Lt Col
commands and 20 Indian officers holding other Lt Col appointments. Even if
these figures were doubled within the next few years, it would not suffice to fill
even the number of post-war commands and first grade staff appointments, while
the number qualified to hold more senior commands and staff appointments
would be quite insufficient to merit the requirements of a post-war army of
reasonable strength.48
As described earlier, the Army Commanders Conference of November
1945 began the process of restructuring the officer corps of the Indian
Army. British ECOs would not be accepted for permanent or regular
commissions, and British regular officers would gradually be phased out
of the army. Serving British regular officers would still be able to request
secondments, but they would no longer be made permanent.
The first formal announcement by the GOI regarding the nationalisa-
tion of the army came in early April 1946, when Gen. Auchinleck
presented the ‘Future of the Indian Army’ to the Indian Assembly. At
that moment the army had 39,100 officers, of which 27,640 were British
officers and 9,240 were ICOs;49 Auchinleck articulated the army’s inten-
tion to
create a completely national army that is an army officered and manned
throughout by Indians in the shortest possible space of time without lowering
the very high standard of efficiency which maintains the Army today . . . [I]t is the
declared policy of the Government of India that the British officer element of
the Indian Army shall be replaced by ICOs as soon as possible, compatible with
the maintenance of the efficiency of the Army as a whole.50

47
See L/WS/1/924 and L/WS/1/799, OIOC, BL.
48
Principal Staff Officer to the Secretary of State for India, Aug. 1945, L/WS/1/924,
OIOC, BL. The report discussed in detail the requirements for full nationalisation.
However, the final findings were doomed to rejection by both the Indian Interim
Government and HMG, as they stated that, at present levels, it would take twenty to
twenty-five years for full nationalisation to be complete – an assessment that many senior
officers agreed with. See letters from August to October in L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.
49
Army Commanders Conference, May 1946, L/WS/1/942, OIOC, BL. It was estimated
that the numbers would be 11,450 officers for the army in 1946, of which 4,230 would be
BOs and 7,200 would be ICOs.
50
Publicity and Press Release, 8 Apr. 1946, L/WS/1/742, OIOC, BL. Auchinleck
estimated that the army would need 9,000 officers for the permanent peace-time

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250 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

Lt Gen. Sir Richard O’Connor, commander of the North Western Army

in India, wrote, in a letter to Sir George Cunningham, the former
governor of the North-West Frontier Province: ‘As you know we are
doing all we can to induce young Indians of the right stamp to join the
Army as regular officers so that the business of nationalisation . . . pro-
ceeds as rapidly as possible without a loss of efficiency. It is nothing to do
with the officers being Indian simply with gaining experience . . . [T]he
need for the closest possible co-operation between Indian and British
officers of the Indian Army is very great.’51
While Auchinleck shared this opinion, he rapidly became very con-
cerned about the numbers of both British officers and ICOs with valuable
battlefield experience who were leaving the force. Auchinleck wanted
BOs to serve on secondment with the newly formed Indian Army to help
fill some of the gaps. A questionnaire was sent to 134 British officers with
less than twenty years’ service at the end of 1946 to assess their potential
future. Seventy-five officers wished to be transferred to the British Army;
thirty wanted to retire; and thirty-eight were willing to serve as seconded
officers. Close to 150 officers with more than twenty years’ service were
asked as well: 60 wished to retire, and 46 were willing to serve on
secondment. Another 33 stated they would serve on secondment, even
if India left the Commonwealth.52
In October 1946, Auchinleck also grew worried about the standard of
the Indian men attempting to gain admittance into the Indian Military
Academy, Dehra Dun. He was under pressure from members of the
Interim Government to accept potential cadets of a lower standard. He
refused, asserting that
I am told by the Presidents of the Selection Board, including Indian officers of
high calibre and by others competent to judge, that the general standard of the
candidates coming before selection boards is very poor indeed, though
I believe there is a slight improvement lately . . . [T]he fact remains, however,
that the percentage of rejections by the boards is very high and we have only
been able to get enough suitable candidates to fill about half the vacancies at
IMA . . . [W]e must get enough Indian officers for the future Army and they

army. However, only 5,100 would be present by 1947. With many EICOs opting out,
there were already 300 vacancies at IMA Dehra Dun (1,200 applied, but only 126 were
suitable). He discussed the possible need for short-service commissions for British
officers to help fill the void. He resisted calls to speed up promotion of various Indian
officers to make up numbers. This issue was also highlighted in a statement by
Aunchinleck to the War Office, Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL. See later draft
copy of letter to ‘British officers’ in Box 4/32, Gracey Papers, Liddell Hart Centre , KCL.
51
Box 6/27, O’Connor Papers, Liddell Hart Centre, KCL.
52
See letters from Sep. to Dec. 1946 as well as ‘Results of Questionnaire’, 1 Jan. 1947,
L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 251

must be good officers. So long as I am here, I will not agree with any lowering
of the present standards.53
In early November 1946, senior commanders discussed the need for a
nationalisation advisory committee. Some worried that such a commit-
tee, if formed from the Interim Government, would see itself as setting
the timeline for full nationalisation. However, Auchinleck played
down these concerns and confirmed that the committee would only offer
advice.54 On 19 November, it was announced that a ‘Committee on
Nationalisation of the Indian Armed Forces’55 was to be set up to decide
on the best ways to implement the policy of nationalisation and possible
retention of British officers in the Indian Armed Forces as part of a
transition process. The committee was to report back within six months
on the findings.56 On 22 November, Auchinleck sent a letter to all senior
British officers, saying that, ‘we are to go’ and that, ‘before we go, it is our
bounden duty to do all we can to ensure the continued wellbeing and
efficiency of our men and of the [a]rmy . . . [W]e can only do this if we
give freely and fully of our knowledge and experience to those who are to
replace us in the higher commands and appointments . . . [T]hey must be
given actual experience in the art of command leadership . . . I will
appoint no officer, British or Indian, to any post unless I am sure in my
own mind that he is properly fitted for it.’57
At the same time, recruitment of Indian officers was proving problem-
atic. The defence member for the Indian cabinet within the Interim
Government, Sardar Baldev Singh, advised the Central Assembly of
the situation: ‘present recruitment of officers for the Indian Army was
unsatisfactory. The right material was not forthcoming . . . The Indian
Government will have to recruit officers from Britain.’58 Col B. D.
Bhanot of the Rajputana Rifles, a former Indian ECO, noted that ‘regular
British officers’, with both pre-war and war-time experience, ‘were of
immense help and were worth their weight in gold’.59 Auchinleck

53
Army Commanders Conference, Oct. 1946, L/WS/1/1523, OIOC, BL. Auchinleck also
discussed at this conference the constant need to assess their training. He stated: ‘we
must not lose the vigour and imagination with which our training was conducted in the
war. We must have a constant change in outlook.’
54
Chiefs of Staff Conferences, 2 Nov. 1946, L/WS/1/1096, OIOC, BL.
55
The committee was headed by Sir N. Gopalaswami Ayyangar and the military lead was
Maj. Gen. D. A. L. Wade; it included four Indian Armed Forces ofﬁcers, including Brig.
K. S. Thimayya.
56
19 Nov. 1946, L/MIL/7/19590, OIOC, BL.
57
22 Nov. 1946, No. 1199, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, and Connell,
Auchinleck, pp. 854–5.
58
Post War Ofﬁcering of the Indian Army, 7 Nov. 1946, L/WS/1/924, OIOC, BL.
59
Author’s correspondence with Col B. D. Bhanot.

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252 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

expressed concerns about the larger ramiﬁcations of this situation in a

meeting with Wavell, the viceroy at the time: ‘the release of a large
number of junior British officers from the Indian Army and their replace-
ment by Indian officers . . . seems inevitable but will obviously weaken the
army and tend to make it more susceptible to communal influence’.60
Recollecting on this period, Col. John Perkin, commander of 4/10th
Baluch, 114th Indian Brigade, stated that ‘only his company command-
ers and Viceroy Commissioned Officers had war experience’. Most of
the platoon commanders were recent graduates of the Indian Military
Academy. Although he expressed concerns about their capabilities, he
felt they performed well,61 contradicting to some extent Singh’s earlier
assessment of the quality of the Indian officers at IMA. The adjutant at
the Indian Military Academy (the future Lt Gen. Sir James Wilson)
confirmed that the quality of the first post-war intake of 126 officers that
graduated in December 1946 was high;62 it was the quantity that was the
problem.63 By the middle of 1947, it was estimated that close to 18,000
officers would be demobilised, including ICOs.64
Concerns about the potential performance of Indian officers in the face
of rising communalism were discussed extensively in early 1947.65 How-
ever, nationalisation was already in full flow. As of January 1947, there
were 12,000 British officers in the army; it was anticipated that, by April
1947, this number would fall to 6,000 and by April 1948 to 4,000.66 The
first meeting of the Nationalisation Committee took place on 6 January.
Brig. Kodendera Subayya Thimayya opened the meeting with a blister-
ing statement on the nationalisation process, asserting that ‘all Indians in
the armed forces [have] the fullest confidence in the CinCI and know his

60
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, 6 Jan. 1947, p. 406. Gen. Hamid echoed this in
his journal in June: ‘Mountbatten is making things very difficult for the British officers.
They are losing control and want to quit. There is already tension between Muslim,
Hindu and Sikh officers’ (Disastrous, p. 179).
61
Author’s interview with Col. John Perkin, 8 Jun. 2005.
62
Wilson, Unusual Undertakings, p. 135.
63
As one commander noted, ‘there had to be a British rearguard, and the right choice was
made; the British officers of the Indian Army. They knew the people and were trusted on
both sides, which made them invaluable as organizers and mediators . . . Unfortunately
that rearguard was not as strong as it could have been’ (Bristow, Memories, p. 148).
64
Army Commanders Conference, Nov. 1945, L/WS/1/1524, OIOC, BL.
65
See letter from the governor of the Punjab, Sir E. Jenkins to Wavell, 14 Jan. 1947, TOP,
IX, 274, pp. 499–500.
66
India and Burma Committee, 21 Jan. 1947, TOP, IX, 288, p. 522. The Daily Telegraph
was also reporting similar comments. ‘It is . . . evident that the primary object is to further
the policy of nationalization. It is well known that the proportion of Indian officers in the
Indian Army is still small and supply of candidates of satisfactory standard has been
extremely disappointing’ (Demobilization and Release Scheme, 16 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/
931, OIOC, BL).

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 253

sympathetic views on nationalization. However, in spite of all the letters

he had issued on the subject to all concerned, the average ICO was not
convinced that the spirit of the letters was being carried out in practice.’67
Another Indian, Brig. Kodandera Madappa Cariappa, stated in meetings
in London that Congress expected to see the end of British officers in the
army within five to eight years.68
In its February 1947 meeting, the Nationalisation Committee
expressed its aim to complete nationalisation by July 1949. All British
officers would be removed, and officers still required would form into the
India Staff corps, which would serve at the senior levels in an advisory
role as well as in command positions in some places.69 The members of
the meeting raised a number of contentious points. One British member
pointed out that ‘you will not have all the numbers you want of experi-
enced officers . . . [S]ome of them did extremely well in the war, but they
left and it will be hard to get them back.’70 Brig. Thimayya responded
with the assertion that ‘I know I am voicing the sentiments of many ICOs
when I say that we feel dissatisfied with the progress of nationalization.
For years we have seen that Indians have not been given a chance of
filling important appointments. During the whole war we never had a
single Indian who was allowed to do the job of the GSO 1 of a division.’71
The Commanders-in-Chief Committee, in responding to this meet-
ing’s findings, focused particularly on plans for senior Indian officer
positions. They predicted a serious decline in professionalism if senior
British officers were not kept in place, and anticipated that it would take
ten years for enough Indian officers to be educated, trained, and ready
for senior command.72 Auchinleck supported these findings and

67
‘Nationalization of the Indian Army’, 6 Jan. 1947, 8204–797–1, Maj. Gen. D. A. L.
Wade Papers, NAM.
68
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 26 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 469, pp. 819–22. Mountbatten
later noted that it was brave of Brig. Cariappa to admit the need for British officers to
remain for another five to eight years. See ‘Record of interview between Lord
Mountbatten and Mr Rajagopalachari’, 11 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 121, pp. 194–5.
However, in later meetings within the Nationalisation Committee, Cariappa would
claim that ‘we have got to have an armed force officered by ourselves . . . [W]e should
have no non-Indians holding positions of command after June 1948’ (‘Nationalization of
the Indian Army’, 10 Apr. 1947, 8204–797–1, Wade Papers, NAM).
69
Armed Forces Nationalization Committee, 2 Feb. 1947, L/WS/1/1096, OIOC, BL.
70
‘Nationalization of the Indian Army’, 2 Feb. 1947, 8204–797–1, Wade Papers, NAM.
This sentiment was supported by a member of the committee, Lt Gen. Sir Arthur Smith:
‘it is our considered opinion that, by 1 January 1949, there will NOT be enough Indian
officers fit by experience to be given all the higher command and senior staff
appointments without accepting a very big drop in the present high standard’ (quoted
in Barua, Gentlemen of the Raj, p. 129).
71
‘Nationalization of the Indian Army’, 6 Jan. 1947, 8204–797–1, Wade Papers, NAM.
72
CinC Committee, 14 Feb. 1947, L/WS/1/1096, OIOC, BL.

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254 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

reiterated them to Singh in a subsequent meeting. He made the

additional point that fewer than 500 officers, of the 8,500 required, had
more than eight years’ service. He added that any attempt to attain full
nationalisation by June 1948 ‘is to run a very grave risk of . . . disinte-
gration and disruption’.73 Lt Gen. Sir Reginald Savory, adjutant general,
supporting Auchinleck’s position, expressed his own reservations about
the nationalisation process, specifically his concerns that ‘ICOs were
becoming communally minded, drunk with prospects of early promotion
and getting into cliques’, and his fear that the ‘Indian Army is due for
imminent disintegration if India is divided’.74
Auchinleck followed up the theme of nationalisation at the Army
Commanders Conference in New Delhi on 26 March, stressing that
the issue was a complicated one, and that time for complete nationalisa-
tion was likely to be limited. He asked army commanders for their
support of forthcoming nationalisation plans and emphasised that
‘a smooth handover depends largely on British officers’.75
The potential division of the armed forces was an equally contentious
issue, and there had been calls, as early as 1946, to restructure the Indian
Army into communal units, in preparation for partition.76 Gen. Tuker
was one of the principal proponents of this strategy; Field Marshal
Auchinleck opposed it completely. However, HMG’s announcement in
February 1947, proposing the handover of power by 1948, combined
with rising communal violence and political deadlock between the
Muslim League and Congress, brought it to the table once again. The
first formal discussions about dividing the Indian Army took place in
London in March 1947.
Gen. Geoffrey Scoones represented Auchinleck in meetings with the
British CinC committee and the India and Burma Committee. Present-
ing to the India and Burma Committee of the British cabinet in London
on the anticipated effects of partition of the country upon the Indian
Army, Scoones stated: ‘if the Army is to be handed over to more than one
authority it cannot be handed over as an Army but only as communal
forces to the respective sides; that once the process starts India will be
deprived of any efficient defence and the internal situation will become
dangerous. A partition of the armed forces will have to be planned in
advance and on some definite assumption as regards to the political

73
Auchinleck to Sardar Baldev Singh, 8 Mar. 1947, No. 1217, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester. See also Hamid’s recollection of the meeting in Disastrous,
p. 141.
74
20 Feb. 1947, 7603-93-83, Savory Papers, NAM.
75
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 151.
76
See Tuker, Memory, pp. 23 and 278.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 255

future . . . Therefore the longer the Indian Army remains in being the
better.’77
Those present decided to create a secret plan to divide the army
along communal lines, fearing that morale would suffer if the army
found out too soon.78 In a meeting on 13 March, Gen. Scoones reiter-
ated his concerns: ‘if it became known that the division of the Indian
army on communal lines was being discussed, the effect on the morale
of the Indian Army would be serious’.79 The British Chiefs of Staff
went into greater detail about the potential division of the forces, but
asserted that ‘in any event, there must be no splitting of the Indian
armed forces while we [British] are responsible for the defence of
India . . . The Indian armed forces must therefore remain efficient [to
deal with civil strife] and under unified control until the time of
handing over power.’80
Auchinleck reiterated this last point in late March in a Viceroy Staff
meeting, stressing that ‘it would take five to ten years satisfactorily to
divide the Indian Army’.81 However, the Muslim League responded
flatly that they did not want a unified army.82 The Muslim League’s
focus was the fact that the army included few all-Muslim units,83 and
partition would necessitate ripping apart regiments along communal
lines.84 Doing so would inevitably lead to questions about levels of

77
Gen. Scoones’ remarks, Cabinet, India and Burma Committee, 4 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX,
480, p. 843. Mountbatten supported Scoones’ sentiments. He asserted on 13 March, in
another cabinet meeting, that it was ‘essential that the unity of the Indian Army should
be maintained’: TOP, IX, 529, p. 940.
78
Meeting of Ministers on Indian Questions, 13 Mar. 1947, L/P&J/10/78, OIOC, BL.
79
Ibid.; also in TOP, IX, 530, pp. 940–5.
80
Chiefs of Staff Committee, 18 Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1045, OIOC, BL; also in TOP, IX,
544, pp. 974–81.
81
‘Minutes of Viceroy’s Fourth Staff Meeting’, 28 Mar. 1947, TOP, X, 29, p. 35. Tuker
agreed that it would take at least fifteen years to divide the army. According to Tuker,
when he brought up the issue of ‘classing’ the army, the latter got angry and stated: ‘the
day the Indian Army is classed, I resign.’ See ‘A Record of 1945/47, India’, p. 6, Tuker
Papers, IWM.
82
‘Minutes of Viceroy’s Fourth Staff Meeting’, 28 Mar. 1947, TOP, X, 29, pp. 35–8.
83
See Tuker, Memory, Appendix XII, p. 653, which clearly lays out the structure of the
Indian infantry regiments. Only four regiments – 5th Mahratta Light Infantry, 17th
Dogra, 18th Royal Garhwal Rifles, and 19th Kumaon – were of one class (Hindu).
The rest of the regiments had some combination. The final compilation showed that the
Hindus represented the equivalent of 9⅓ of the regiments, the Muslims 63/4 of
the regiments, the Sikhs 3⅔ of the regiments, and other sects 3¼ of the regiments.
The nascent Pakistan Army was clearly at a disadvantage. These numbers did not
include the Gurkha Brigade, which numbered close to forty battalions.
84
See Jeffrey, Punjab Boundary Force, p. 492, for a description of the characteristic situation
within one regiment. The 15th Punjab, with six battalions, had twelve Muslim, six
Hindu, and six Sikh companies to divide within seventy-two days.

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256 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

professionalism after the fact as officers, VCOs, and jawans were taken
out and dropped into other, newly made formations. Hindu and Sikh
personnel were likely to fare better in this process than their Muslim
counterparts, due to the organisational structure of the army of 1947.85
As discussions about the partition of India into Pakistan and Hindu-
stan (India) became increasingly heated, political leaders from both sides
began to suggest splitting up the armed forces before independence. In a
meeting between Mountbatten and Muhammad Ali Jinnah on 7 April,
Jinnah once again reiterated his position that the Indian armed forces
needed to be divided, and that the future states of Pakistan and Hindu-
stan must each be responsible for their own defence. Mountbatten
responded by pointing out that a number of senior Indian officers had
acknowledged that it would take at least five years before two independ-
ent armies could stand on their own without the support of British
officers.86 Mountbatten also asked how the army could be divided into
two by June 1948 without serious communal repercussions.87
Meanwhile, other members of the Interim Government suggested that
the army be divided along communal lines at some point in the future.88
Liaquat Ali Khan, the deputy leader of the Muslim League, became the
main proponent for discussing the partitioning of the army.89
Mountbatten met with Jinnah again on 8 April to discuss various
issues, including the army. Mountbatten stated that as long as he was
in charge of law and order in the country, division of the army would not
occur. However, he did concede that, if HMG and the Interim

85
As of March 1947, there were no all-Muslim armoured regiments, twelve Muslim
artillery regiments, twelve Muslim engineer companies, one Muslim infantry battalion,
and some miscellaneous service corps units; the remainder of the support services were
mixed. In contrast, the Hindus and Sikhs could claim one armoured regiment, twenty-
four artillery regiments, twenty-eight engineer companies, thirty-one infantry battalions,
thirty Gurkha battalions (to be cut down to twenty), and forty-one transport companies,
with the rest of the support services mixed units. Clearly, an army divided along
communal lines would place the Muslims at a distinct disadvantage. See ‘Note by
Field Marshal Auchinleck on communal affiliation of the Indian Army’, TOP, X, 43,
pp. 62–3.
86
Another issue was that many Muslim officers did not reside in the territory that would
become Pakistan. Would Hindu, Sikh, or Muslim officers be forced to leave their homes
and their regiments to appease the politicians?
87
‘Record of interview between Rear-Admiral Lord Mountbatten and Mr Jinnah’, 7 Apr.
1947, TOP, X, 92, p. 149.
88
See Liaquat Ali Khan to Mountbatten, 7 Apr. 1947, L/P&J/10/79, OIOC, BL; also in
TOP, X, 94, pp. 151–3. Khan would follow up with another letter stating that he did not
expect the army to divide at the moment, but that some planning was needed for the
future eventuality. See TOP, X, 135, pp. 220–1.
89
Khan met with Mountbatten multiple times and communicated with him throughout
April and May; see TOP, X and XI.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 257

Government decided on partition as the way forward, he would set up

committees to discuss the needs of a divided army, on the proviso that it
would still serve under a central authority.90 He reiterated these positions
a few days later and added that nationalisation would weaken the army
and that to add division of the armed forces on top of that would create
too much pressure.91 The need to maintain law and order was reiterated
in the Viceroy Staff Meeting on 10 April 1947: ‘there would be no
question of division [of armed forces] until after June, 1948, because it
would compromise his [Mountbatten’s] mandate to ensure maintenance
of law and order’.92
Meetings of the Nationalisation Committee during early April were
equally heated, as various members questioned the validity of the claims
that the British were intent on nationalisation. The members were split
on whether the Indian Army could truly nationalise by June 1948.93
Mountbatten met with Auchinleck on 14 April to discuss the matter in
more detail. Auchinleck confirmed that, at that moment, the officer
corps was dominated by Hindus and Sikhs, and reiterated that division
would cause too much stress and would take more than five years to
achieve. He agreed that nothing should be done until June 1948. He also
predicted that a partition of the Punjab might spark a civil war. Such
a schism would reverberate throughout the army, and there was no
guarantee that the army could hold together. However, he assessed the
army as ‘loyal at [that] moment’.94
Tensions increased as the various Indian parties openly discussed the
need for divisions in Bengal, the Punjab, and a future separate Pakistan.
In mid April Mountbatten was still expressing strong opposition, going
so far as to say that he would stop partitioning of the army: ‘I considered

90
‘Record of interview between Mountbatten and Jinnah’, 8 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 101,
pp. 158–61.
91
‘Record of interview between Mountbatten and Jinnah’, 9 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 105,
pp. 163–4. Mountbatten was holding firm on the issue of a central authority controlling
the armed forces as well (ibid., p. 163). He also responded to Khan, stating that: ‘I could
not agree to splitting up the Army while Parliament is responsible for India . . . [I]f any
form of partition were decided on I should, of course, be prepared to agree to an
investigation as to the need for, and if proved, the method of, implementing a partition
of the Armed Forces’ (Mountbatten to Liaquat Ali Khan, 9 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 106,
p. 165).
92
‘Viceroy’s Staff Meetings’, 10 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 110, p. 178.
93
Brigs. Cariappa and Thimayya both questioned whether the British were serious about
nationalisation, given the proposed timetable. Brig. Akbar Khan specifically stated: ‘I do
not think this can be done. We do not have enough sufficient[ly qualified] Indian
Officers to take all appointments by next year’ (‘Nationalization of the Indian Army’,
meetings in Apr. 1947, 8204–797–1, Wade Papers, NAM).
94
Viceroy Interview No. 64, 14 Apr. 1947, Mountbatten Papers, OIOC, BL; also in TOP,
X, 138, p, 226. See also Hamid’s entry for 14 April, Disastrous, p. 161.

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258 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

it my duty to ensure that no steps were taken which would weaken the
Indian Army as the ultimate resource on which the country depended for
maintaining internal security.’95
Mountbatten met with Jinnah on 23 April to discuss the political
impasse of potential partition, and the issue of the army came up once
again. Jinnah did state that he hoped at least for a ‘plan’ to be developed
for division, even if it did not occur until after independence.96 Auchin-
leck responded to the questions and proposals of Liaquat Ali Khan and
stated his thoughts to Sardar Baldev Singh, and once again stressed his
view that division of the army was the wrong course. The process was
immensely complicated and would be a lengthy business. It would affect
all aspects of the army, and the armed forces in general. With the
nationalisation process already under way, this was simply ‘a bridge too
far’. He added that any discussion of division of the army should be done
only at the highest levels, so as not to hurt morale in any way.97 Singh, the
defence minister, supported Auchinleck’s findings. However, support
from Singh was, as it turned out, a double-edged sword: evidence was
coming to light that he was treasurer of a fund to buy weapons for Sikhs
in the Punjab in preparation for an anticipated civil war.
Both men’s thoughts on the subject were submitted alongside Liaquat
Ali Khan’s proposals to the Defence Committee, and a meeting was held
on 25 April.98 Khan reiterated that, if a political decision was made
regarding a future independent Pakistan, a plan was needed for the army.
It was during this meeting that Mountbatten began to shift his opinion in
favour of starting to plan the division of the army. He called for an
‘Expert Committee’ to be formed to provide evidence and ideas on
potential plans. However, no actions were to be taken until a political
decision had been made.99 Auchinleck was asked for specific names to sit
on the committee, and people to be brought in to discuss the issues in
more detail. The one concession to both Auchinleck and Sardar Baldev
Singh was the final comment by Mountbatten that, while either

95
Mountbatten to Pethick-Lawrence, 17 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 164, p. 295.
96
Minutes of Meeting of 23 Apr., TOP, X, 203, pp. 378–82.
97
Memo from Field Marshal Auchinleck on the implications of proposals by Liaquat Ali
Khan, 20 Apr. 1947, No. 1223, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester. See also
Hamid, Disastrous, Appendix VIII, p. 330, for full text of the memo. See Connell,
Auchinleck, pp. 877–80, for more details of the meeting as well.
98
At the time, Mountbatten was still supporting their views over Khan’s demands; see
‘Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 4’, 24 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 211, pp. 403–11.
99
See Hamid’s entries for the 25th of April, in Disastrous, p. 164, and Connell, Auchinleck,
pp. 879–81. See also Nos. 1225 and 1226, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester,
which discuss the meetings in detail as well as TOP, X, 215, pp. 419–23, and 221,
pp. 433–7.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 259

nationalisation or, possibly, division of the army could be achieved by

June 1948, they could not be carried out together without seriously
affecting the professionalism and morale of the army. A decision had to
be made about which one took priority.100
By late April, Lord Mountbatten was openly admitting that parti-
tion101 of the country was inevitable; even Field Marshal Auchinleck
had come to the same conclusion.102 Mountbatten was still philosophi-
cally against partition, but he admitted in a meeting with the chief
minister of Bengal, Huseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy, on 26 April, that he
was being asked to partition the Punjab, Bengal, and Assam. In light of
this the question of dividing the army, already tricky, became even more
complicated, especially when Suhrawardy asked if Bengal could form its
own army.103
The issue of a Bengal army was raised again in a meeting of Mount-
batten’s advisers on 1 May. Mountbatten responded that any discussion
of Bengal having its own army would have to be dealt with whenever
Hindustan and Pakistan discussed the future of their own armies.104 This
issue continued to be discussed, along with the earlier assertion that
nationalisation and division could not be carried out simultaneously, in
a series of meetings in early May. In one of these, Lord Mountbatten
stated:
the present Armed Forces may have to be divided into [two] or even more
separate entities. This is under investigation by the Defence Committee and the
difficulties of replacing the 8,000 British officers by Indian Officers by the end of
June 1948 are such that I do not believe that on top of this, it will be possible to
get very far with any partition of the forces before this date. All parties are

100
‘Minutes of Defence Committee Meeting, 26 Apr. 1947’, No. 1226, Auchinleck
Papers, University of Manchester, and see ‘Defence Committee India, minutes of
Third meeting, 25 Apr. 1947’, TOP, X, 221, pp. 433–7, as well as Lionel Carter, ed.,
Mountbatten’s Report on the Last Viceroyalty: 22 March–15 August 1947 (New Delhi:
Manohar, 2003), p. 128.
101
As stated in Chapter 5, the political background to partition is quite large and falls
outside the remit of this book. However, the following books and articles can provide a
much needed background to the wider issue if required. Some of the key texts for this
period include: Low and Brasted, eds., Freedom; TOP; Urvashi Butalia, The Other Side
of Silence: Voices from Partition (London: C. Hurst, 2000); Yasmin Khan, Great Partition;
Ian Talbot, Divided Cities: Partition and Its Aftermath in Lahore and Amritsar, 1947–1957
(Oxford University Press, 2006); Ian Talbot and Gurharpal Singh, eds., Region and
Partition: Bengal, Punjab and the Partition of the Subcontinent (Oxford University Press,
1999); Talbot, Khizr Tiwana; and Penderel Moon, Divide and Quit: An Eye-witness
Account of the Partition of India (London: Chatto & Windus, 1962).
102
Connell, Auchinleck, p. 882.
103
‘Record of interview between Mountbatten and Mr Suhrawardy’, 26 Apr. 1947, TOP,
X, 227, pp. 448–60.
104
‘Minutes of Viceroy’s Ninth Misc. Meeting’, 1 May 1947, TOP, X, 264, pp. 507–13.

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260 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

therefore agreed on the need to keep the present Armed Forces as a single force
until plans for their orderly separation can be put into operation.105
This point was raised in a meeting with Nehru on 10 May; he concurred
that it would be impossible to both nationalise and divide the army by June
1948, and that any attempt to do both would probably result in collapse.
However, if nationalisation was slowed down and some planning on
partition was done – and done gradually – it might be feasible. Nehru
agreed that division of the army should not be discussed until a definite
decision had been made on which parts of India were going to separate; in
fact, he felt that, even once this had been decided, the army should
continue to ‘function as whole’.106 The Muslim League, unsatisfied,
continued to fear that Congress and India or Hindustan would truly be
in charge of a ‘unified Army’. In a speech in New Delhi on 11 May, Jinnah
asserted that partition was coming and that the division of the armed forces
needed to be dealt with immediately: ‘if the British decide that India must
be divided and it follows that the armed forces must be divided and power
transferred to the divided parts, then the Central government must be
dissolved and all power should be transferred to the two Constituent
Assemblies formed and representing Pakistan and Hindustan’.107
In a meeting in London with the Chiefs of Staff, Lord Ismay (military
adviser to Mountbatten and a good friend of Auchinleck) was asked
about the position of the Indian Army following Jinnah’s speech and
the trend of discussion towards partition of the subcontinent. Ismay
responded that Jinnah was opposed to any unified army of all races or
religions, and wanted a Muslim army.
The political situation continued to deteriorate and communal vio-
lence continued to increase.108 In an attempt to stabilise the political
situation, Mountbatten determined to press HMG for an early transfer of
power. In the event he made his case successfully; he recommended that
the armed forces should be divided by territorial basis of recruitment and
that mixed units be entrusted to a committee headed by Auchinleck and
the Chiefs of Staff of the two states, and divided accordingly.109 It was

105
‘Viceroy’s Personal Report’, no. 5, TOP, X, 276, Annex II, p. 547.
106
‘Minutes of Viceroy’s 11th misc. meeting’, 10 May 1947, TOP, X, 382, pp. 731–8.
These ﬁndings were sent to London on 11 May, reiterating that nationalisation would
slow down and that if partition of the army was to take place, it would be done in an
orderly manner. This telegram also discussed the possibility of a transfer of power
earlier than June 1948. See Mountbatten to Ismay, 11 May 1947, TOP, X, 409, p. 774.
107
‘Statement by Mr Jinnah at New Delhi’, 11 May 1947, TOP, X, 411, p. 778.
108
See Chapter 7 for more information.
109
‘Minutes of Viceroy’s 33rd Staff Meeting’, 16 May 1947, TOP, X, 454, pp. 841–3. The
last points were reinforced throughout the rest of the month in correspondence; see
speciﬁcally nos. 466, pp. 861–2, and 477, pp. 888–9. See also the series of

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 261

immediately apparent that the issue of division would dominate the army
as soon as it became known, so it was decided to slow down nationalisa-
tion in an attempt to retain as many British officers as possible for the
anticipated upheaval.110 By late May, tensions were increasing steadily as
the Indian political parties failed to reach consensus on most issues.
Mountbatten planned to have one last meeting on 2 June to see if any
impasse could be broken; if not, HMG planned to announce that
attempts at a Union of India had broken down irrevocably, and that
partition was now the only viable way forward.111
On 27 May, Auchinleck weighed in with his views on division of the
army, emphasising the number and complexity of issues requiring reso-
lution. Considering communally based forces, he pointed out that
it is not merely a matter of saying Muslims to the left, Hindus to the right. In all
three forces there are many officers and men whose homes are in parts of India
which must inevitably come under the rule of the opposite community or party.
In dividing these forces, each such case will have to be decided individually as no
officer or man could be compelled to serve a government of which he does not
approve . . . [I]n the Army there are certain fighting units which consist, so far as
the rank and file are concerned, wholly of Hindus or Muslims, but this does not
apply to their officers. British, Muslim, and all other classes of Indian Officers are
completely mixed throughout the Army without any regard to their race or
religion.112

This last issue, in particular, caused many heartaches in the following

months, as Sikhs, Muslim, and Hindu officers asked to remain with their
regiments irrespective of whether the unit went to Pakistan or India.113 The
British cabinet met on 28 May to discuss a variety of issues, including
Auchinleck’s note. They agreed in principle to his points, with the Treas-
ury asking to be consulted about the financial implications of British
officers serving on for a longer period than had originally been intended.114
Auchinleck’s note discussed a number of things in detail; one gets the
sense that he was not convinced that key people in the Indian political

correspondence in the same volume (nos. 455–77, pp. 843–88) for a more detailed
discussion on the various debates surrounding the issue of partition as a whole.
110
India and Burma Committee, 25th Meeting, 19 May 1947, TOP, X, 485. They
specifically stated: ‘the new plan [division] would necessitate a reversal of the existing
policy of progressive nationalization: and the difficulties of division would be greatly
eased if the greater part of the 6,000 British officers, with whom we should have
dispensed by June, 1948, could be retained during the process of division’ (p. 901).
111
Cabinet Conclusions, 23 May 1947, TOP, X, 521, pp. 963–8.
112
‘Division of the Armed Forces of India between Pakistan and Hindustan’, note by Field
Marshal Auchlinleck, 27 May 1947, TOP, X, 547, pp. 1004–8.
113
Author’s interviews with Indian Army officers, 1999–2009.
114
India and Burma Committee, 28th Meeting, 28 May 1947, TOP, X, 553, pp. 1013–23.

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262 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

parties, nor those in the viceroy’s and HMG’s inner circles, fully
comprehended the difficulties that lay ahead. He stressed the need for
a central control mechanism of the army’s administration during the
process of dismemberment, as well as the rationale for retaining British
officers and the clear guidelines needed in order to ensure this. He
insisted that they be volunteers and that they retain their privileges and
position as officers serving under the Crown. In particular, he insisted
that they serve under the central control of the CinCI115 so that, until the
division process was complete, the CinCI would be free to post and
employ all British officers serving in the Indian Armed Forces as he
saw fit. British officers could not be forced or ordered by the Indian
Dominion governments to take actions that would be repugnant to their
code of behaviour as officers or to their allegiance to the king. He also
emphasised the necessity of suspending the proposed programme of
nationalisation of the officer corps, asserting that, if it were not sus-
pended, there would be collapse; and that this fact needed to be commu-
nicated to and accepted by Indian leaders, and explained by them to the
public and to the ICOs of the armed forces. During the division phase,
central control of the forces would be placed under the Joint Defence
Council, which would include the CinCI, the governor general, and
ministers from Pakistan and Hindustan. The HQs for the various services
would be kept in New Delhi until the job was done.116
Mountbatten met with Indian leaders on 2 June to discuss the newly
named Partition Plan, and possible changes in the handover date of
Dominion status.117 The issue of defence was touched upon, mostly
covering the retention of British officers for the Indian Armed Forces.
However, Mountbatten stated bluntly that ‘it was far more difficult to
persuade British officers to serve on at the present time than it had been
a year previously. The principal reason for this was the increase in
communal warfare and strife.’118

115
This position would be elevated to supreme commander-in-chief, to serve over the two
new CinCs set up for India and Pakistan. Auchinleck would serve as the supreme
commander.
116
‘Division of the Armed Forces of India between Pakistan and Hindustan’, Note by
Field Marshal Auchlinleck, 27 May 1947, TOP, X, 547, pp. 1004–8. See the full text for
much more detail.
117
Congress agreed to the plan in writing; Jinnah also agreed, ﬁrst verbally and later in
writing. See Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, ch. 5, pp. 81–103, for more details and
Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 175–6.
118
Minutes of the Meeting of the Viceroy with the Indian Leaders, 2 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI,
23, pp. 39–48. See comments from Gen. Messervy in the Sir Evan Jenkins note, TOP,
XI, 98, pp. 177–82, where he expected that only 400 British ofﬁcers would stay on after
independence, which of course would create a major shortfall for the two armies, during

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 263

Mountbatten continued to present the implications of partition to the

leadership with a series of memos. An expert committee was to be set up
to oversee demarcations of land boundaries and government offices,
including defence. The CinCI was to set up a committee to report their
findings and work to a Partition Committee.119 On 3 June, Mountbatten
met with Indian leaders to discuss issues pertaining to partition in greater
detail; prominent among them was the division of the armed forces.
Mountbatten advised the meeting that he had met with Auchinleck and
other army commanders on 2 June and they wanted him to convey their
strong feelings that the process of division must not compromise the
army in dealing with ongoing communal violence. They also stressed that
morale must be maintained, or else chaos could ensue. The 3 June
meeting considered, among others, the question of how to divide the
army: whether along territorial or communal lines, and what to do with
officers who wished to serve in India, but were not Sikh or Hindu, or in
Pakistan, but were not Muslim.120
On 3 June, Mountbatten informed Auchinleck unequivocally121 that it
would be necessary to divide the armed forces122 before independence, a
development which outraged many senior British officers.123 The adju-
tant general of the Indian Army, Gen. Sir Reginald Savory, believed that
the politicians wanted to divide the army as quickly as possible, no matter
what it cost.124 On 4 June, Mountbatten announced a further compli-
cating factor: independence was to be granted on 15 August 1947,
instead of June 1948 as originally planned. According to people close
to Auchinleck, this caused nothing but dismay in the headquarters. Many
felt that things would now only get worse, and several army commanders

the division phase and the ‘communal civil war’ that would clearly erupt by the middle
of August.
119
Viceroy’s Conference Paper, 2 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 28, pp. 53–6.
120
Minutes of the Meeting of the Viceroy with the Indian Leaders, 3 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI,
39, pp. 72–8. See also no. 53, section 10, pp. 104–5, for more on this discussion.
121
Maj. Gen. Hamid claimed in his memoirs that Auchinleck was not informed about the
division of the armed forces, and that the British cabinet and Mountbatten felt that
Auchinleck was old-fashioned and wished to see him go. However, there is clear
evidence that there had been multiple conversations on this topic between
Mountbatten and Auchinleck since late April. Mountbatten may have wished to see
the back of Auchinleck, but he recognised Auchinleck’s great popularity in the army and
the further uproar that the latter’s departure would cause. The salient point that Hamid
makes is that Auchinleck made it clear, as did many other senior ofﬁcers, that the
division of the armed forces must be done slowly and carefully to avoid exacerbating
problems that were already evident. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 178.
122
Ayesha Jalal, The State of Martial Rule: The Origins of Pakistan’s Political Economy of
Defence (Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 37–44.
123
Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, pp. 96–7, and Hamid, Disastrous, p. 177.
124
Letter, 28 Jun. 1947, 7603-93-80, Savory Papers, NAM.

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264 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

demanded at least a year to prepare the division of the army.125 Mount-

batten refused, and ordered Auchinleck and his planners to start the
planning with the new date of independence in mind.126
The plan for the division of the armed forces became official and
public on 11 June when Auchinleck announced the establishment of a
committee focusing on the ‘Reconstitution of the Armed Forces of
India’. (It had been decided to refer to the division of the armed forces
as ‘reconstitution’ in an attempt to avoid the negative ramifications of the
word ‘division’.)127 Auchinleck had officially stated only four days previ-
ously that it would take three years to undertake the division properly; in
response, he had been given less than three months.128
Following his announcement, Auchinleck began to campaign for
British officers to remain during the run-up to independence, stressing
the necessity of their presence during reconstitution of the armed forces.
On 11 June he wrote to Lord Ismay that ‘I cannot stress too strongly my
conviction that the success of any plan for the division of the Indian
Armed Forces depends upon the willing co-operation of the British
officers now serving with them, the great majority of whom it will be
essential to retain during the process of reconstitution.’129 Lt Gen. Tuker
agreed wholeheartedly with Auchinleck on this issue. He stated: ‘we
learnt that the prestige of the British officers of the Army was very high
and that Hindustan would ask for the services of many of them’.130 Lt
Gen Tuker also claimed that many ICOs wished for nationalisation to
progress at a reasonable rate and did not support Indian political leaders
who were pushing for accelerated promotions.131
On 16 June, Mountbatten indicated in a meeting that he had spoken
with Auchinleck over the previous few days. He characterised Auchinleck

125
Tuker refers to this in Memory, p. 351. The specific legal and official announcement was
read through the Indian Independence Act, 18 Jul. 1947. See Philips, ed., Select
Documents, IV, pp. 407–11, for more specific details.
126
See Hamid’s entry for 4 June and the many opinions and debates that erupted around
Field Marshal Auchinleck, in Disastrous, pp. 178–81.
127
See Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 188. While they believed that the terminology
might help, many of the officers, VCOs, and soldiers knew exactly what was going on.
See also Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, p. 96.
128
See ‘Reconstitution of the Armed Forces of India, CinCI, Paper No. 1/47’, 11 Jun.
1947, TOP, XI, 210, enclosure 2, pp. 406–14, for more detail on the organisation of the
committee. See also Hamid, Disastrous, p. 182.
129
Auchinleck to Ismay, 11 Jun. 1947, No. 1229, Auchinleck Papers, University
of Manchester; also quoted in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 889. He also added: ‘The
goodwill of the British officers is more likely to be secured if the Partition Committee –
on behalf of the future governments of Hindustan and Pakistan – openly state that
services of the British are essential to the success of reconstitution, notwithstanding the
“Quit India” cry of the past.’
130 131
Tuker, Memory, p. 351. Ibid.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 265

as ‘now satisfied that the division of the Indian Armed Forces could be
carried out without vitally impairing their efficiency, provided that there
was goodwill and trust, and provided that political pressure was not
applied to hurry the process unduly’.132 Adherence to these last critical
points – or the lack thereof – would facilitate or hinder the daunting task
that Auchinleck and his staff faced in the coming months.
In hindsight, it is apparent that Auchinleck was so closely involved
with the army that he failed to recognise the political inevitability of
partition, and the necessary division of the ICS, police, and army.
Auchinleck deserves credit for his efforts to maintain a unified force that
would provide security during the period before and immediately
following independence but, assessed after the fact, it is clear that this
option was never going to be acceptable to the rival political factions
within the Interim Government, who wanted to control all the security
assets as soon as possible. This proved to be a difficult and costly mistake
for Auchinleck; it also highlights his attempts to keep the army out of
politics, not grasping how important control of the army would be in a
partition scenario.133
The first major discussions concerning the division of the armed forces
revealed the scope and difficulty of the decisions to be made.134 Auchin-
leck stressed that planning for division should be carried out impartially,
logically, and without rancour, and that the integrity and reliability of the
armed forces should in no sense be prejudiced. He also reiterated his
opinion that it would be impossible to carry on with nationalisation at the
same time.135 Despite his words, however, political wrangling remained
the order of the day. Liaquat Ali Khan met with Ismay on 20 June 1947
and demanded that Pakistan have its army, under its own CinC, in place
by 15 August. Ismay responded emphatically ‘that unless there was to be
chaos, the whole Army must be under a single central administration’.136
Jinnah also raised the issue of the Pakistan Army in a meeting with
Mountbatten on 23 June, reiterating the demand that Pakistan have its
army and CinC in place by 15 August. Mountbatten agreed but
responded that, for administrative matters, Auchinleck should oversee

132
Minutes of Viceroy’s 43rd Staff Meeting, 16 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 216, pp. 419–20.
133
There is some validity to Tuker’s statement: ‘But at the head of the Army was
unfortunately Auchinleck who wished to be regarded rather like the patriarch Moses
as the father ﬁgure of the Indian Army. This was all a matter of emotion. It seemed that
whatever “the Auk” [Auchinleck] said must of course be perfectly right for the Indian
Army’ (‘A Record of 1945/47, India’, p. 5, Tuker Papers, IWM).
134
For much detail see the Meeting of the Special Committee of the Indian Cabinet, 16
Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 217, pp. 421–6.
135
CinCI Weekly Conference, 19 Jun. 1947, L/WS/1/1125, OIOC, BL.
136
Ismay to Mountbatten, 20 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 275, p. 534.

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266 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

both armies. Jinnah then stated that Muslims no longer had faith in
Auchinleck. Mountbatten claimed to have asserted in response that
‘there was no more reliable or respected officer in India than Auchin-
leck’.137 Ironically, Auchinleck was accused of being pro-Muslim by
Congress with equal vehemence. The fact that he was being accused by
both sides as favouring the other is perhaps an indicator of his
impartiality.138
With plans now moving inexorably forward towards partition and
division of the armed forces, Auchinleck reiterated to the viceroy and
the Partition Committee that nationalisation of the officer corps must be
suspended. He referred to discussions in the 25 April meeting, empha-
sising that, with the timeline shortened from June 1948 to August 1947,
there was no hope of nationalising so quickly. The 8,200 British officers
in the army as of June 1947 must be retained to deal with reconstitution
and rising communal violence. In concluding his arguments, Auchinleck
presented his most political comments yet:
there is every reason to believe that, in the present circumstances, many serving
British officers are not really desirous of continuing their service in India. This
attitude is the result of the frequent and emphatically expressed desire of Indians
of various shades of opinion to be rid of the British officer element in the Armed
Forces; and the markedly unfriendly and mistrustful attitude frequently adopted
towards them by some Indians; and their disappointment that, for political
reasons, the forces – of which they are so justly proud – are to be remoulded
into separate entities.139
Tuker supported Auchinleck’s position, adding that division of the
once-proud army was too much for many officers to bear. Many
officers were also unwilling to serve under the command of Jawaharlal
Nehru, the man who had defended the INA during the trials in 1945
and 1946, accused the army of being the oppressor of the Indian
people, and, most recently (in June 1947), blamed British officers for

137
Record of interview between Mountbatten and Jinnah, 23 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 311,
p. 382.
138
See also Auchinleck’s letter to Ismay, on 11 June 1947, where he lays out similar
comments. A memorial to Auchinleck, put up by the Pakistan Army thanking him for
his leadership, still stands in the cantonment at Peshawar.
139
Auchinleck continued, ‘it must be appreciated, therefore, that it is asking a great deal of
the British Officer, after hearing the cry “Quit India” reiterated so loudly and so often in
the past, to acquiesce readily to a request to stay. For this reason, I think Indian leaders
must say publicly that they need the help of the British officers. Such a statement should
encourage the officer to hope that he will be respected and trusted and treated as a
friend which is what he desires.’ See Note by Auchinleck, 23 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 312,
p. 385.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 267

not having done enough to stop the communal violence that was
sweeping across northern India.140
In an effort to address demands made by both Khan and Jinnah,
Auchinleck briefed members of the Special Committee of the Indian
cabinet on 26 June. He and Mountbatten had agreed that each Domin-
ion should have its own CinC who would be responsible for its army, but
that administrative control of both armies would still rest with Joint
Headquarters under Field Marshal Auchinleck’s command. They hoped
to ensure that most of the forces would be relocated to their appropriate
places by 15 August.
The Partition Council met next on 30 June 1947, and the reconsti-
tution of the armed forces was discussed in great detail. Six guiding
principles were worked out. The ﬁrst was that India and Pakistan would
have operational control of their forces from 15 August. Second, heads of
the various services would be appointed and would be responsible to the
new heads of state. Third, all existing armed forces of India would
remain under single administrative control until the respective Domin-
ions were capable of taking over. Fourth, the forces would fall under the
Joint Defence Council, headed by Field Marshal Auchinleck (to be
named supreme commander) and include the governors general, defence
ministers, and CinCs. Fifth, Auchinleck’s title would change effective 15
August, and remain so until his work was complete. He would have no
operational control of the armies, nor would he be responsible for law
and order.141
Sixth, and perhaps most important, the actual division of the army
was scheduled to happen in two phases. In the ﬁrst phase, units would
be divided down to company and squadron levels by 15 August 1947.
The second phase was intended to focus on individuals, ascertaining
their intentions with regard to partition. To avoid a breakdown in
discipline and morale, the process would be done in stages, but would
proceed as rapidly as possible. Mountbatten asked Auchinleck to come
up with candidates for the new CinC positions for Pakistan and
India.142 There was also one additional change: when the Punjab

140
Author’s interviews with the Indian Army ofﬁcers, 1999–2009; and Tuker, Memory,
pp. 352–3.
141
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 195.
142
See Meeting of the Special Committee of the Indian Cabinet, 26 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI,
354, pp. 679–91; Notes by Mr Patel, 27 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 372, pp. 693–700; and
Meeting of Partition Council, Note by HE the Viceroy regarding the Partition of the
Armed Forces, 30 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 416, pp. 756–60, for much more detail on the
particulars. See plans for the Armed Forces Reconstitution, 5 Jul. 1947, No. 1239,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, for more detail.

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268 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

Boundary Force143 was formed in July 1947, it fell under the command
of the supreme commander.144
One other decision made during this meeting was to have a significant
impact on the army. The second phase of division (the ‘intentions’ phase)
concluded with a decision that ‘any Muslim domiciled in Pakistan would
not have the option to serve in India, and any non-Muslim domiciled in
India would not have the option to join the armed forces of Pakistan’.145
In the event, many officers with Muslim backgrounds were denied com-
missions in the new Indian Army, while Hindus were similarly rejected
from the independent Pakistan Army, even though these officers had
gladly commanded men and VCOs from other religious backgrounds,
and viewed their regiments as their home. Col B. D. Bhanot described to
me how one of his fellow regimental officers, a Muslim, expressed his
wish to remain with the Rajputana Rifles. He was told in no uncertain
terms to either leave the army or transfer to Pakistan.146 Many officers in
both India and Pakistan found this choice a heart-wrenching one; while
many ultimately may have chosen to move over to the opposite sides of
the demarcation lines, they were aggrieved at being forced to do so.147
Tensions escalated rapidly in areas of the country that were going to be
demarcated, particularly the Punjab. The disruption and division were
evident by late June, and feelings ran high in the Indian Army. Savory,
the adjutant general, noted his feelings in two different letters to his wife.
In the first, written in late June, he stated, ‘the political leaders of India
are intent on splitting the Indian Army as rapidly as they possibly can,
irrespective of the cost’.148 In the second, dated 4 July 1947, he noted
that ‘the splitting of the Indian Army is now actually beginning and
I cannot say I find it particularly pleasant. The whole thing is
foolish.’149 Gen. Lockhart, GOC, Southern Command (later CinCI),
wrote in June 1947 that ‘the army is anxiously awaiting information
about the splitting of the army. There have been no signs whatsoever of
any communal feeling amongst the troops employed in the Punjab.’150
In early July, Nehru raised the issue of nationalisation once again, even
though all sides had agreed to stop the process due to reconstitution of
the armed forces. He confirmed that he understood why it had to slow
down, but that he wished for it to start once again. He asked why various

143
See Chapter 7 for much more detail.
144 145
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 218. Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 190.
146
Author’s correspondence with Col Bhanot, 6th Rajputana Riﬂes.
147
Author’s interviews and correspondence with Indian and Pakistani ofﬁcers, 1999–2009.
148
Letter, 28 Jun. 1947, 7603-93-80, Savory Papers, NAM.
149
Letter, 4 Jul. 1947, 7603-93-80, Savory Papers, NAM.
150
16 Jun. 1947, 8310–154/47, Lockhart Papers, NAM.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 269

promotions of senior Indian officers had not taken place over the last few
months, and for senior Indian officers to be associated with the reconsti-
tution committees.151 He was subsequently taken to task a few days later
by the chief of the General Staff, Lt Gen. Sir A. Smith, who pointed out
in a meeting that ‘he [Nehru] had forgotten that the Indian Cabinet,
some weeks ago, agreed that rapid nationalization to effect completion by
June 1948, should be stopped, and that we should revert to the normal
rate of nationalization’.152 Nehru’s actions indicate that either he still
failed to understand the army and the role of officer education and
training to take senior command positions, or that he did not care about
the potential impact on the efficiency and performance of the army.
Either of these is disturbing, particularly at a time when tensions were
already high and getting higher.153
Interestingly, Nehru had appeared to withdraw some of his objections
regarding nationalisation only a day earlier. On 12 July 1947, Mount-
batten issued a statement to all British officers and other service person-
nel in India stating that
all concerned [Indian political leaders agree] that British officers are needed for
the period during which the Armed Forces are being divided and reconstituted.
The CinC and Senior officers of all the three Defence Headquarters are staying
on for this period. Auchinleck, who is assuming the title Supreme Commander,
will be responsible under the general direction of the Joint Defence Council of the
two new Dominions for reconstituting the Armed Forces . . . The strain which
will be thrown on Officers of the Indian Services in carrying out this
reconstitution, in addition to ordinary administration and training, will be
considerable and if a large number of highly trained and experienced British
offices are suddenly removed the risk of a serious breakdown will be very real.
Pandit Nehru and Mr Jinnah have expressed the desire and hope that the
requisite number of British Officers and Other Ranks will stay on.154
The Partition Council echoed the need for British officers to remain
during meetings in mid July. Mountbatten and the Indian political
leadership openly admitted that if many of the senior British leadership

151
Nehru to Mountbatten, 11 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 69, pp. 105–7.
152
Record of interview between Nehru and Lt Gen. Sir A. Smith, 13 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII,
88, p. 129.
153
Record of interview between Mountbatten and Auchinleck, 15 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII,
113, pp. 165–7. During this meeting Sardar Baldev Singh’s accusations that various
British ofﬁcers, including Auchinleck, were pro-Pakistan in their feelings, were raised
and discussed. Mountbatten agreed that it was unprofessional behaviour on the part of
the defence minister. Auchinleck did subsequently agree that a few more Indian ofﬁcers
would be promoted to major general by 15 August.
154
Statement by Mountbatten to the British personnel of the Indian Armed Forces, 12 Jul.
1947, TOP, XII, 80, pp. 116–17.

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270 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

were to leave on 15 August, there was a serious risk that the army would
break down completely. Auchinleck was clear that he did not expect
that many mid-level officers would remain after 15 August, in light of
the violence and repeated attacks to which they had been subjected by
the Indian press and political leadership in the last few years. He
insisted that an appeal to the officers from Mountbatten, Nehru, and
Jinnah was necessary to boost morale and resolve. Mountbatten was
able to convince both leaders to co-operate, and the appeal was
made.155
At about this same time, announcements were made that Lt Gen.
Messervy156 was to be the CinC of the new Pakistan Army157 and
Lt Gen. Lockhart158 the CinC of the new Indian Army. Both appoint-
ments would be effective as of 15 August.159 Field Marshal Auchinleck
wrote to both men, laying out his ideas regarding the role of the supreme
commander and emphasising his hopes for mutual co-operation among
the three of them to deal with the coming difficult months. He specific-
ally stated: ‘If reconstitution of the Armed Forces is to be carried out
rapidly and efficiently and without friction, we shall all of us, in your HQs
and mine, have to work together in the closest co-operation and with the
firm intention of doing all we can to help each other in our common task.
I have already impressed this necessity on the officers who are to serve on
my staff when I become Supreme Commander, and I am sure you will do
the same with yours.’160
In the end, 2,537 officers opted to stay and serve in the Indian and
Pakistani armies and 2,568 decided to opt out of service on 15 August.
Close to 1,000 other ranks (94 per cent of the total) also decided to stay

155
Viceroy’s Personal Report, 18 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 162, pp. 225–32.
156
As noted earlier he joined the Indian Army (Hodson’s Horse) in 1914 and served in
both the First and Second World Wars with distinction.
157
Minutes of Viceroy’s 21st Misc. Meeting, 20 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 184, pp. 272–6.
Many Pakistani officers noted that they had expected Tuker to be appointed CinC for
Pakistan. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 183.
158
As noted previously he joined the Indian Army (51st Sikhs, or 1/12 FFR) in 1914 and
served in both the First and Second World Wars with distinction.
159
Mountbatten to Earl of Listowel, new sec. of state for India, 25 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII,
227, pp. 330–2. Gen. Sir William Slim had been approached to take the CinC position,
but turned it down. Both Messervy and Lockhart were promoted to full general on 15
August. Two senior Royal Navy officers were appointed the respective heads of the
Pakistan Navy and the Indian Navy. Two air marshals from the RAF were appointed to
command the new Dominions’ air forces. See Mountbatten to Listowel, 27 Jul. 1947,
TOP, XII, 253, p. 371.
160
Auchinleck to Lockhart and Messervy, No. 1240, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. Auchinleck also sent letters to the naval and air force officers, reiterating
similar sentiments; see Nos. 1242 and 1244, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.

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Nationalisation and division of the Indian Army 271

on in India and Pakistan.161 By early July, the Reconstitution Committee

had also decided on the division of the various infantry and cavalry units
for each army.162 It must be remembered in considering this task that,
while many of the battalions were still split along various communal
lines, up to two-thirds could be of one communal class and would have
to shift over to the other state. Subsidiary items such as stores, factories,
vehicles, and so forth, would ultimately be allocated 30% to Pakistan and
70% to India.163 Pakistan was eventually assigned 140,000 men out of
the 410,000 within the army, 40% of the navy, and 30% of the air
force.164
Within a few days of these announcements being made, Nehru
appeared to launch an attack against the integrity of Auchinleck.165
Mountbatten responded that he had faith in Auchinleck’s integrity and
impartiality.166 This did not put an end to the matter, as many within
Congress, including Sardar Baldev Singh, continued to express their
belief that Auchinleck, as well as many other senior British officers, were
pro-Pakistan. Mountbatten was firm in their defence, asserting that the
officers were trying to be fair in carrying out reconstitution of the armed
forces.167 According to Lt Gen. Savory, Singh’s attack was an attempt to

161
Viceroy’s Personal Report No. 17, 16 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 489, pp. 757–83.
162
In terms of the infantry regiments, the split was as follows: Pakistan, 1st Punjab, 8th
Punjab, 10th Baluch, 12th Frontier Force Regiment, 13th Frontier Force Rifles, 14th
Punjab, 15th Punjab, and 16th Punjab; India, 2nd Punjab, 3rd Madras, 4th Indian
Grenadiers, 5th Mahratta Light Infantry, 6th Rajputana Rifles, 7th Rajput, 9th Jat, 11th
Sikh, 17th Dogra, 18th Royal Garhwal Rifles, 19th Kumaon, Assam Regiment, Sikh
Light Infantry, Mahar, and Bihar Regiments. The cavalry regiments were divided thus:
Pakistan, 5th Probyn’s Horse, 6th Duke of Connaught’s Own Lancers, Guides Cavalry
(Frontier Force), 11th Prince Albert Victor’s Own Cavalry (Frontier Force), Sam
Browne’s Cavalry (12th Frontier Force), 13th Duke of Connaught’s Own Lancers,
19th King George V’s Own Lancers; India, Skinner’s Horse, 2nd Royal Lancers, 3rd
Cavalry, Hodson’s Horse, 7th Light Cavalry, 8th King George V’s Own Light Cavalry,
Royal Deccan Horse (9th Horse), Scinde Horse (14th Prince of Wales’s Own Cavalry),
15th Lancers, 16th Light Cavalry, Poona Horse (17th Queen Victoria’s Own Cavalry),
18th King Edward VII’s Own Cavalry, 20th Lancers, and Central India Horse.
163
Pakistan claimed that it did not receive all the stores and equipment it had been allotted
and there is validity to this statement. One key reason for this was due to the outbreak of
war between the two states by the end of 1947.
164
Jalal, State of Martial Rule, p. 42.
165
See Nehru to Mountbatten, 26 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 247, pp. 365–6, for more details.
166
Record of interview between Mountbatten and Nehru, 29 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 270, pp.
399–400.
167
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 15, 1 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 302, pp. 443–56. The
tensions did not go away, as Singh continued the pressure and accusations that
Auchinleck and his senior officers were pro-Pakistan. See Viceroy’s Personal Record,
No. 16, TOP, XII, 385, pp. 590–606, for more details and for Mountbatten’s continued
support of Auchinleck and the senior British officers. Hamid also refers to this issue on
29 July; see Disastrous, p. 212.

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272 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

rid India of Auchinleck and stop him from taking the supreme
commander’s position. In response, Mountbatten asked Savory to meet
with Auchinleck and ask him to stop dabbling in politics. Savory was
outraged by this request, as was Auchinleck when it came to his atten-
tion. He threatened to resign if he did not receive the support he
expected, and demanded an apology from Singh.168 In early August,
Mountbatten made it clear to Singh169 that it was necessary to mend the
relationship with Auchinleck, and Singh acceded to this political real-
ity.170 Thus ended this particular conflict, but not the political friction
and growing pains of the partition process.171
On the evening of 6 August, a dinner and party were held at the
Imperial Delhi Gymkhana. Many of the senior political and military
leadership of the future independent India and Pakistan attended. The
future CinCs of India and Pakistan as well as other officers mingled and
discussed the future. Two speeches by two of the most senior Indian and
Pakistani officers illuminate the ending of the Indian Army as many knew
it at the time. Brig. Cariappa, of India, spoke first:
I associate the honest and sincere wishes of every one of us here, and all of those
with the Services outside, that we shall meet each other frequently as the best of
friends in the same spirit of good comradeship that we have had the good fortune
to enjoy all these years. We have worked together so long on the same team. We
hope we shall continue to work together in the same spirit for the defence of the
two Dominions against external aggression. Comrades-in-arms, during all our
life in the various Services we have lived together, worked together and fought
together in the various battlefields on which our magnificent Armed Forces have
fought with the highest degree of fellowship and comradeship. May this spirit
continue even after we are separated.172
The senior Pakistan officer, Brig. A. M. Raza, responded that he was
deeply touched by the true spirit of comradeship and genuine feelings of
brotherhood evinced and expressed by General Cariappa, I assure everyone
of the innate desire of all who are in this distinguished gathering and
particularly of my brothers in arms. The Armed Forces of Pakistan will
always uphold their traditions under which they served shoulder to shoulder
with the Indian Armed Forces and will continue to do so whenever required,
not only in the interest of our own people . . . but also for the universal security

168
See Hamid’s entry for 29 and 30 July, in Disastrous, p. 212.
169
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 264.
170
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 17, 16 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 489, pp. 757–83. Hamid
also makes reference to Sardar Baldev Singh and Auchinleck having normal relations
once again by 1 August; see Disastrous, p. 218. Mountbatten conﬁrms this in his Report;
see Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 264.
171 172
See the Conclusion for more details. Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 221–2.

which is the aim and object of humanity that has suffered the unprecedented
horrors of two devastating world wars within a few decades.173
Despite these declarations of solidarity, Lt Gen. Savory commented the
next day that ‘India is ﬁnished so far as the Army is concerned . . . [T]hey
have many problems facing them . . . I am sick of the whole business
here.’174 His, although the more pessimistic view, proved to be the more
prescient one; communal violence across India and Pakistan continued
to increase up to and beyond 15 August and culminated, by year’s end,
with the two armies ﬁghting one another in Kashmir.175
The last order of the Indian Army was issued on 14 August. Named
the Special India Army Order, it was issued by Field Marshal Claude
Auchinleck and signed by Lt Gen. Sir R. A. Savory as the adjutant
general in India and stated ‘Discontinuance of India Army Orders. This
is the last India Army Order.’176

Division of the Gurkha Rifle Brigade

While the senior command of the Indian Army was contending with the
demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the Indian Army as a
whole, there was also the special case to consider: the future role and
mission of the ten Gurkha Rifle Regiments. As noted in previous
chapters, the Gurkhas had been recruited since 1815 from the
independent kingdom of Nepal,177 first for service in the East India
Company and then into the Indian Army. Their recruitment was
expanded in the post-Mutiny phase, alongside the expansion of recruit-
ment from the peoples of the Punjab and northern India. During the
First World War, some 114,000 men were recruited to the Gurkhas; in
the Second World War, the ten regiments were expanded to include
more than 200,000 men.178 The officers for the Gurkhas were entirely
British; from the earliest stages of the Indian Army’s Indianisation or
nationalisation process, begun in the 1920s, the Gurkha regiments were
exempted.179

173 174
Ibid., p. 221. 7 Aug. 1947, 7603–93–80, Savory Papers, NAM.
175
See Conclusion for more information.
176
14 Aug. 1947, No. 1246, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
177
Segauli Treaty of 1815, after the Nepal War.
178
During the Second World War, fifty-one infantry battalions existed, of which thirty-one
were raised during the war: ‘Defence Committee Paper “The Future of the Gurkhas”’,
7 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 503, p. 885.
179
In March 1947, the British government admitted, ‘nor has there been any written
undertaking that Gurkha units would only be officered by British officers, though there
has been an understanding to this effect, which has hitherto been observed’ (ibid.).

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274 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

The ﬁrst major discussions on the future of the Gurkhas occurred as

the Second World War was drawing to a close.180 HMG recognised the
need for a strategic reserve for the Far East, as the likelihood was slim of
the Indian Army continuing to serve in its traditional capacity of ‘Imper-
ial Reserve’ for much longer.181
The primary challenge for Field Marshal Auchinleck, Lord Wavell
(and later Lord Mountbatten), and CIGS in London, Lord Alanbrooke,
was not only what to do with the Gurkha Rifles, but also to determine the
Indian political leadership’s position on the issue. Auchinleck met with
the Maharaja of Nepal at the end of October 1945 to discuss the matter;
the Maharaja supported the proposal to transfer affiliation of the Gurkha
regiments to the British Army, but was hesitant to make the same
arrangement with India, given the Maharaja’s reservations about
Gurkhas serving under Indian officers.182
CIGS met with Auchinleck in December 1945, stressing the need for
the Gurkhas to help fill the shortage of British troops for overseas
garrisons. Auchinleck made it clear that Gurkhas would have to be
completely separated from the Indian Army and any attachment to the
Government of India to avoid political issues in the future.183 Wavell
reiterated Auchinleck’s points, and reiterated the necessity of recruiting
the Gurkhas for future defence planning for the Far East.184 Two signifi-
cant issues shortly arose that would shape discussions between the British
government and the future independent Indian government: the first was
that the British Treasury agreed to pay only for the future employment of
eight permanent battalions, or four of the ten regiments.185 The second
was that the Indian Interim Government announced in late October
1946 that it wished to retain all Gurkha battalions in the future Indian
Army, and expressed its opposition to HMG’s plan to employ Gurkhas

180
Discussions between Wavell, Auchinleck, and Lord Alanbrooke, CIGS; see TOP, V,
346, pp. 767–76, for more details as well as Auchinleck to Wavell, 28 Mar. 1945, No.
1085, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester. See also Wavell to Pethick-
Lawrence, Aug. 1945, L/WS/1/1023, OIOC, BL.
181
See Raffi Gregorian, The British Army, the Gurkhas and Cold War Strategy in Far East,
1947–1954 (London: Palgrave, 2002), esp. pp. 32–8, for specific background and
discussion on British thoughts for the future of the Gurkha Rifles as a strategic
reserve; see also David Omissi, ‘A Dismal Story? Britain, the Gurkhas and the
Partition of India, 1945–1948’, in Alan Jeffreys and Patrick Rose, eds., The Indian
Army, 1939–1947 (Farnham, UK: Ashgate, 2012), pp. 195–214.
182
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 5 Aug. 1945, TOP, VI, 4, pp. 27–33.
183
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, L/WS/1/1023, OIOC, BL; also reproduced in TOP, VI,
325, pp. 720–1. See also Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 26 Sep. 1946, L/WS/1/1023,
OIOC, BL, for specific statements.
184
TOP, VI, 325, pp. 720–1.
185
Lawson to Arthur Henderson, 31 May 1946, L/WS/1/1023, OIOC, BL.

on imperial duties, which it considered a continuation of the calculated

use of Indian Army troops in FIC and the NEI.186
The British realised that a negotiated settlement would be necessary.
At first, the Interim Government called for three-way talks involving
HMG, India, and Nepal. The War Office was able to negotiate for
meetings first between the British and the Indians, and then with Nepal.
However, before the talks could begin, HMG needed to decide how
many would be needed, as well as making assessments about the future
size of the British Army, a likely date for independence, subsequent plans
for the Indian Army, and what potential impact the last of these might
have on already growing communal violence.187
By late February 1947, the British Chiefs of Staff in London had
decided that they wished for close to 25,000 Gurkhas to be transferred
to the British Army for service in the Far East.188 One issue that
remained to be resolved was how long the Gurkhas would be in service
to the British Army. Pethick-Lawrence informed Wavell that ‘the War
Office have now agreed to continue with the negotiations but on the lines
of a short-term bid for a few Gurkha units for a period of five years’.189
The British Chiefs of Staff met on 5 March and laid out their plans on
how to negotiate the transfer of some of the Gurkhas. The CIGS, now
Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, expressed British
interest in having at least four regiments, which would be enough to
provide the infantry element of a division in Malaya. He qualified the
offer by saying that it ‘would not be made unless the Indian Government
expressed their approval of it’.190 On 17 March, the Defence Committee
decided that HMG would open negotiations with the governments of

186
The Interim Government specified that it wanted Gurkha battalions to be retained and
to be officered by Indian officers, as well as its opposition to ‘the employment of Gurkha
troops by HMG for Imperial purposes’ (Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 30 Oct. 1946,
TOP, VIII, 534, pp. 841–6); GOI Defence Dept to Sec. of State for India, 8 Nov. 1946,
TOP, IX, 16, pp. 30–2; also see paragraph 6 in ‘Defence Committee Paper “The Future
of the Gurkhas”’, 7 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 503, p. 885, for more detail.
187
Gregorian, British Army, p. 38, and see Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 27 Feb. 1947,
TOP, IX, 473, pp. 825–7.
188
Those Gurkhas who were eventually transferred to the British Army were sent to
Malaya to form a Gurkha Division, later numbered the 17th in honour of the old
17th Indian Division from the Burma campaign. While in Malaya, the Gurkhas
formed the largest infantry force involved in the Malayan Emergency, and did much
of the fighting in that campaign. The Gurkhas next became heavily involved in
Konfrontasi or the Borneo Confrontation, and went on to serve in Hong Kong from
the late 1960s until the end of the British presence there in the late 1990s.
189
Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 27 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 473, p. 826.
190
Chiefs of Staff Committee Meeting, 5 Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1045, OIOC, BL. See also
‘Defence Committee Paper “The Future of the Gurkhas”’, 7 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 503,
p. 885, for a summary of the lead-up to March 1947.

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276 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

India and Nepal to secure the transfer of 25,000 men into the British
Army, with no time limits to be stipulated for their terms of employ-
ment.191 On 18 March 1947, the British formally announced its proposal
to transfer four regular Gurkha regiments to the British Army, supple-
mented by further direct recruitment to reach a target of 25,000 men.192
Formal negotiations began in April. The British team was headed by
Maj. Gen. Lewis Lyne, who was sent out to India in mid April to open
talks with the Interim Government and the Nepalese government.193 He
reported on progress to Lord Mountbatten in early May; Mountbatten
conveyed to the new secretary of state for India, Earl Listowel, that talks
were going well and that it appeared as if both the British and Indians
would succeed in their aims of securing the future employment of
Gurkhas. He added the caveat that nothing was set and that the greatest
care would be needed to weave through the ﬁnal stages.194
Issues arose with the negotiations as well; things did not go smoothly
during May and important decisions were not made.195 In early June,
Mountbatten asked Prime Minister Attlee for Field Marshal Viscount
Montgomery to meet with Sardar Baldev Singh and Jawaharlal Nehru, to
try to clinch the deal when he visited India later in the month.196 Attlee
agreed, and Montgomery was sent to meet with Nehru on either 23 or 24
June.197
Montgomery and Nehru met on both days, and Montgomery reported
to London that ‘I have to report to you [Attlee] that Mr Nehru has agreed
in principle that we can proceed in the matter [the transfer of the
Gurkhas]. There are of course many details still to be settled and I am
arranging for a Mission from the War Ofﬁce to come to Delhi to work out
these details and then proceed to Nepal.’198 Montgomery also reported
along different channels that he had promised Nehru that the Gurkhas
‘would not be used locally and certainly not against people’s movements
for freedom’.199 While Montgomery had moved the discussions along,

191
Defence Committee Meeting, 17 Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1023, OIOC, BL.
192
See Gregorian, British Army, pp. 38–9.
193
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 129.
194
Mountbatten to Listowel, 8 May 1947, TOP, X, 353, pp. 679–81. This was also
conﬁrmed in a letter from 19 May 1947 between Mr Harris and Sir A. Lascelles,
TOP, X, 484, p. 895.
195
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 191.
196
Mountbatten to Attlee, 12 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 173, p. 318.
197
Attlee to Mountbatten, 18 Jun. 1947, L/WS/1/1024, OIOC, BL.
198
Montgomery to Attlee, 24 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 330, p. 608.
199
Quoted in Gregorian, British Army, p. 40. According to Montgomery, the meetings
between the two men were very cordial. See the letters to and from the men in L/WS/1/
1024, OIOC, BL, dated 24 June 1947, and also reproduced in TOP, XI, 331 and 332,

by mid July it was still not clear what the final arrangements would be in
terms of assignments for specific division of the Gurkha Rifles Regi-
ments. Auchinleck was concerned; he could not ask which Gurkhas
would like to stay on versus which were interested in moving over to the
British Army. Nor could he advise the British officers concerned which
regiments were going to move.200
A final agreement was reached about the future of the Gurkha Rifles
on 7 August. The units selected for service with the British Army were
the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 2nd King Edward VII’s Own Gurkha
Rifles, the 6th Gurkha Rifles, 7th Gurkha Rifles, and 10th Gurkha Rifles
along with their regimental centres.201 The remaining six regiments – 1st
King George V’s Own Gurkha Rifles, 3rd Queen Alexandra’s Own
Gurkha Rifles, 4th Prince of Wales’s Own Gurkha Rifles, 5th Royal
Gurkha Rifles (Frontier Force), 8th Gurkha Rifles, and 9th Gurkha
Rifles – would remain with the army of the Dominion of India. No
Gurkha would be forced to serve in either force, but would have the
option of volunteering for his preferred service.
The agreement was specific about the role of the Gurkhas in the
coming months: all Gurkhas serving within India would serve under
the command of the CinC of India. Those in Pakistan as of 15 August
would serve under the command of the Pakistan CinC until they could
be moved into India. Gurkha battalions still overseas would serve under
the supreme commander. As with the rest of the Indian Army, the
administrative elements of the Gurkha regiments would fall under the
supreme commander, until the Dominions were capable of taking over

pp. 609–10. For a much more detailed record of the conversations and the issues raised
by Nehru, see enclosure to correspondence of 28 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 388, pp. 720–6.
200
Record of interview between Mountbatten and Auchinleck, 15 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII,
113, pp. 165–7.
201
These regiments recruited from both eastern and western Nepal. The 2nd Gurkha
Rifles were also closely associated with various British regiments due to its performance
at Delhi during the Indian Mutiny. The famous 5th Royal Gurkha Rifles (Frontier
Force) went to India. Tuker also indicated that administrative issues were key in the
selection of these regiments. Three of the regiments had one of their battalions in
Burma, and HMG did not want to move them back to India and then back out to
Malaya. He was clear that it was a major surprise that the specific regiments were
selected, since only the 2nd King Edward’s Own Gurkha Rifles was seen as one of the
senior regiments. The 1st King George’s Own and 3rd Queen Alexandra’s Own were
raised in 1815 alongside the 2nd Gurkha Rifles. The 6th, 7th, and 10th Gurkha Rifles
were seen as ‘new’ regiments within the Gurkha Rifles family: Tuker, Memory, p. 638.
See also the regimental histories of the various Gurkha Rifles. When the regimental
histories deal with this period, there is often perplexity about the selection process. As
stated in Lt Col G. R. Stevens, History of the 2nd King Edward VII’s Own Gurkha Rifles,
vol. III (Aldershot: Gale & Polden, 1952), p. 309: ‘British choice fell upon regiments
with battalions still serving abroad.’

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278 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

the mission.202 The Maharaja of Nepal met with the British High Com-
missioner from India, and expressed his satisfaction with the results of
the division of the Gurkha Rifles between India and the UK.203
The decision had been taken so late that GHQ India had to create a
referendum to assess the choices for the various soldiers and officers from
within the regiments. The initial choices were three: continue in service
with Indian Army regiments; transfer to service with British Army regi-
ments; or discharge. However, the various conditions of service and
implications for the future were not entirely clear, and GHQ India
received many more questions than definitive answers from those who
were targeted by the referendum.204 The other impact of the late decision
meant that all regiments, including those destined for the British Army,
would remain in India and Pakistan up to and after independence and
would be involved in dealing with continuing communal violence.

Conclusion
As has been discussed throughout, the Indian Army was the most stable
organisation of the GOI and the Interim Government during the last
days of the Raj. Any containment of the outbreak of widespread commu-
nal violence, which in the Punjab and parts of northern India was
outright civil war, was largely due to the army’s involvement, and from
the start it had insufﬁcient numbers to intervene on an appropriate scale.
Why then try to nationalise, demobilise, and divide the army in the midst
of an already volatile situation?
The Indian Army was an organisation that was not well understood
outside its own ranks, partially due to more than a hundred years’ worth
of efforts to keep it clear of political and communal intrigue. The original
intent of this effort was, of course, to safeguard the security of the British
Raj against internal strife, but one of the unanticipated outcomes was
that by 1945 it was one of the few institutions in British India that was
both communally integrated and effective. Seen from the outside, the
nuances of its internal functioning were easy to overlook or ignore by
those who wanted to focus solely on its prospective role as the military
force of an independent state. Many within the nationalist community
neither understood nor were willing to try to understand the army’s

202
Mountbatten to Listowel, 7 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 370, p. 569.
203
UK High Commissioner in India to Cabinet Ofﬁce, 12 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 439, pp.
678–9.
204
See the various regimental histories of the 2nd, 6th, 7th, and 10th Gurkha Riﬂes for
more information. See also John Cross, In Gurkha Company (London: Leo Cooper,
1981), for more details.

particular idiosyncrasies, and how they strengthened it as an organisa-

tion. Their main focus was on how best to use the army as a political lever
against rival factions and the viceroy to attain their ultimate goal of
independence and a satisfactory division of the spoils of the British Raj.
There is no question that the Indian Army had to demobilise at the end
of the Second World War. What is questionable is the way in which such
an important undertaking was handled, especially the lack of attention
paid to how the world, particularly India, had changed with the end of
the war. HMG, in fulfilling its occupation duties in the Far East, used the
Indian Army in its long-standing role of Imperial Reserve without giving
any thought to what impact this might have on the political situation in
India, or what would become of the formations and units when they
returned home. In its other major role of 1946, fulfilling internal security
duties, the Indian Army also confronted a situation significantly different
from any in its past, in terms of levels of violence, organisation of killing,
and political support. As 1946 came to a close, the Indian Army was
widely praised for its actions and for its apparent impartiality. Mean-
while, demobilisation continued and even accelerated, despite the trend
of spreading violence across India.
What could the GOI have done with all the demobbed Indian Army
soldiers who still wished to serve in some capacity? In the end, many
found their way into various political militias, due to their ability to train
groups in military skills as the communal civil war escalated. Units in
Northern and Eastern Command, as well as in the Punjab Boundary
Force, met and fought these well-led, -trained, and -equipped killing
squads through the spring and summer of 1947. While demobilisation
could not have been avoided entirely, the GOI and Interim Government
could have found ways to slow it, for two compelling reasons: one, to
keep more soldiers in uniform to contend with the rising violence; and,
two, to keep demobbed soldiers from becoming a political liability for the
government by contributing their skills and knowledge to one of the
political militias – skills that some within the Interim Government actu-
ally sought out for their own political factions.
Most people within the army accepted initiatives towards nationalisa-
tion of the officer corps, both before and after the Second World War.205
The over-riding issue for many within the army, including some of the
ICOs, was the feeling that nationalisation needed to occur at the proper
speed and with the correct levers in place to promote the correct people
up the chain of command. The idea of handing all the reins of command

205
See Marston, Phoenix, as well as Chapter 2 of this book for more detail.

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280 Demobilisation, nationalisation, and division of the army

and power to ofﬁcers with minimal experience, training, and education,

was generally considered to be a recipe for disaster. Field Marshal
Auchinleck and Lt Gen. Savory were early proponents of nationalisation
and wanted it to continue after the war, but at a realistic speed. Both were
against the findings of the Willcox Committee, which stated in 1945 that
it would take twenty-five years for the army to completely nationalise;
they understood that such a timeline was unrealistic, but that accom-
plishing nationalisation within a year was equally unfeasible. The polit-
ical decisions made by Lord Mountbatten and Prime Minister Attlee
regarding transfer of power also had a significant, if unintended, impact
on plans for nationalisation.
The division and reconstitution of the Indian Army and the Gurkha
Rifle Regiments formed one more demand placed upon an army already
under severe strain. Once again the political leadership, in both New
Delhi and London, did not consider the potential impact of their actions,
because they either did not understand the army’s organisation or did not
care about it. Either way, they pushed the army almost to breaking point
to achieve specific political ends for both nations. Their actions created
confusion and raised questions of loyalty as officers, VCOs, NCOs, and
soldiers were transferred to different units and new states, in the middle
of an ongoing communal civil war.
Many armies undergo gradual change and reform to integrate organ-
isation shifts; but what was asked of and done to the Indian Army during
the final months of the Raj would have broken most of the world’s
armies, especially if they had to contend simultaneously with a commu-
nal civil war in their own country.

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7 1947: the year of reckoning and the
end of the Raj

Map 7.1 Punjab 1947 and the communal breakdown

281

The mixed composition of the Punjab Boundary Force [Indian Army

troops], as far as [Brigade] HQ was concerned, had through all this
behaved reasonably. Muslim and neutral troops [Gurkhas and non-
Punjabi] had taken forceful action against mobs. Hindu and Sikh
troops had done their duty though they inflicted very few casualties,
and to this degree they had failed. Mixed composition patrols under
British officers had done extremely well. There had been no incidents
between troops though tension was definitely growing . . . Muslim
officers worked flat out to protect their own community . . . Hindu and
Sikh officers had to be persuaded in most cases to do their duty . . . [T]he
civil administration and the police were completely and utterly
useless.1
Brigadier from the Punjab Boundary Force

[W]hen we set forth upon our present duties I told you it was going to
be a difficult task . . . [O]fficers and men have worked loyally and
without sparing themselves. I know the strain and fatigue that you
have been subjected to and I know the strains and tugs of loyalties
involved. We have been accused of partiality by both parties and that
in itself is good evidence of the practical measures of overall impartiality
which you have achieved in circumstances of unparalleled difficulty . . .
[I]t will be agreed that you in the PBF have ultimately upheld the
honour of the old Indian Army, by your devotion to duty.2
Maj. Gen. Pete Rees, General Officer Commanding of
the Punjab Boundary Force

As these quotations indicate, 1947 was probably the most difﬁcult year in
the Indian Army’s long history, as well as marking the end of the British
Raj. Taken together, these quotes also illustrate the complexities
involved in considering the army’s ability to work together and remain
professional, even in the midst of a communal war involving a level of
ethnic cleansing not seen since the Second World War and rarely
witnessed since.3
In 1947, the Indian Army faced the fallout from political issues that
had not been resolved in 1946, as well as the looming partitioning of the
subcontinent into Muslim Pakistan and Hindu-dominated India. As had
been widely anticipated by many within the Indian Army, the force was
taxed to high levels by growing communal violence, no longer just in
Eastern Command, but throughout most of northern India, including
the strategically important province of the Punjab. As violence acceler-
ated, the various enablers of internal security duties, the Indian civil

1
Tuker, Memory, p. 448.
2
Special orders of the day, 31 Aug. 1947, File 59, Maj. Gen. Pete Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
3
There are hundreds of monographs and articles that deal with aspects of the partition of
the subcontinent and the reasons for the ‘communal outbreaks’.

service,4 and Indian police5 effectively ceased to function in many places,

notably the Punjab. The army, meanwhile, in addition to carrying the
heaviest IS load, continued to demobilise, nationalise the officer corps,
and, most difficult, begin the process of dividing itself along class and
communal lines, in accordance with political decisions driven by the
need to establish independent armies for both Pakistan and India. An
in-depth analysis of the political dynamics of the era falls outside the
scope of this work; however, it is necessary to discuss some aspects of
the political situation as they influenced the events of 1947.
The situation in the Punjab and northern India was particularly fraught
because of the large number of retired and demobilised soldiers from the
Sikh, Muslim, and Hindu communities who lived in the various districts.
Many of these, at a loose end and in need of occupation, were ready and
willing to put their military skills at the disposal of local political and
religious leaders, by joining militias to carry out ‘cleansing operations’.6
Contemporary accusations that many of the Sikh jathas were trained and
led by former soldiers, INA members, and VCOs have since been sub-
stantiated. However, still more dangerous was the participation of the
Punjab Princely States and their militaries and armouries.7 When the
situation in the Punjab began to deteriorate, the Maharaja of Patiala stated
publicly that his army was ready to protect the Sikh community, and other
Princely States followed suit. Jathas began to form into units and receive
professional-level training.8 By May 1947, intelligence reports increas-
ingly emphasised the collusion of the Sikh Princely States with the Sikh

4
As noted in Chapter 5, for an in-depth discussion of the manpower shortages in the ICS,
see Potter, ‘Manpower Shortage’. Potter clearly shows that, before the end of the Raj, the
ICS was in poor shape. It had been contracting since the 1930s; it was thin on the ground
as of 1945, with close to 400 British officers, many of whom were nearing retirement. The
other 500 officers were Indian, whose loyalty was widely questioned, both in London and
by the Government of India (ibid., pp. 68–9).
5
The police would be accused in most districts of ceasing to function and then taking part
in the violence; see below for more discussion. See Ian Talbot, ‘The 1947 Violence in the
Punjab’, in Talbot, ed., Deadly Embrace, for more detail on the political background, esp.
pp. 6–7.
6
See Jalal, Self and Sovereignty, pp. 524–45, and Lucy Chester, Borders and Conflict in South
Asia: The Radcliffe Boundary Commission and the Partition of the Punjab (Manchester
University Press, 2009), p. 132.
7
Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, pp. 25–30; Talbot states, ‘Sikh jathas were sometimes accompanied by
soldiers from Jammu and Kashmir and the Sikh Princely States . . . [T]roops from the
princely states not only attacked the Muslim inhabitants . . . but joined in the assaults on
the neighbouring districts of the British administered Punjab’ (‘The 1947 Violence in the
Punjab’, p. 10). See also Copland, ‘Master’, p. 661: ‘the Punjab states exercised
considerable political and cultural clout in the larger provincial arena, especially in
regard to the Sikh community’.
8
Copland, ‘Master’, pp. 678 and 680.

jathas. The Princely States provided not only weapons, but also soldiers
and officers from their state forces.9 Ian Copland claims that Patiala and
Nabha provided rifles, revolvers, and ammunition; Faridkot jeeps and
trucks; Kapurthala money; and Kalsa training facilities for RSS cadres
from Ambala.10 All this activity was initially clandestine, but by mid July
soldiers and officers from the State Forces were seen in British Punjab
territory, leading and fighting alongside Sikh jathas.11 In August, a report
on the Sikh jathas described how ‘in villages and cities the PBF were
continually involved in very tough street fighting, coming up against
accurate sniping, bombing, and rifle and machine gun fire’.12 The
Princely States not only provided support to military-style violence, but
also the logistical support to continue the bloodshed.13
This chapter ends with the disbandment of the PBF on 1 September
1947. While the Indian Army was officially divided on 15 August, the
PBF served intact until the end of the month. From that point forwards,
remaining British officers served in the independent Indian and Pakistan
Armies, which will be discussed in the conclusion. As 1947 progressed
and northern India began to rip itself apart, unresolved political issues
continued to complicate situations and hamper the army. One that
loomed large was the ongoing saga of the Indian National Army.

The INA debate re-emerges

As 1946 drew to its end, the Indian Army and Field Marshal Auchinleck
felt they had alleviated some of the tensions with the Interim Govern-
ment, since their efforts in dealing with communal violence since August
had been noted and appreciated.14 However, this all changed at the end
of the year when Sardar Baldev Singh, the defence member for the
Interim Government, sent a letter to Auchinleck, calling for the release
of all INA prisoners. He advised that discussion in the Central Legislative
Assembly was moving towards calling for a resolution on the matter, and
stated that the Indian people wished for the men to be released. He made
it clear that the Interim Government would not push for the men to

9
Sir John Colville to Secretary of State for India, 26 May 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 225, and Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, p. 18.
10
Copland, ‘Master’, pp. 680–1.
11
Ibid., p. 682.
12
See Report on Communal Violence, File 48, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
13
Copland, ‘Master’, p. 697.
14
As Lt Gen. Tuker noted: ‘The prestige of the Army was high and all men turned to it for
protection’ (Memory, p. 207). The British prime minister, Clement Attlee, stated the
same, ‘The Indian Army has so far stood up well and has not exhibited communal
leanings’: Attlee to Bevin, 2 Jan. 1947, TOP, IX, 243, p. 445.

be reinstated into the army, and included a letter from Nehru echoing the
same points.15
Auchinleck responded to both letters on 6 January 1947, stating expli-
citly that he opposed the proposal to release the INA prisoners, on the
grounds that it would strain the officer corps to breaking point. He cited
senior British officers in particular, saying that ‘The senior British officers
of the Army, on whom, to a very large extent, the continuance of the
present excellent demeanour of the Army depends, would, I feel, regard
this action as a betrayal of the principles to which they have throughout
their service been taught to adhere and would in consequence, be likely
to lose faith in me as CinCI . . . These British officers have helped to a
very great extent to make the Indian Army what it is today and I cannot
view with any equanimity any action which might seriously impair their
morale in the troublesome months which appear to lie ahead of us.’16
Singh responded by circulating a copy of Auchinleck’s letter within the
Interim Government, and by paying a visit to Wavell on the morning of
9 January 1947. Singh expressed his opinion that the assembly would
push not only for release, but also for back pay and reinstatement into the
army.17 Wavell recorded his response to Singh:
I warned him most forcibly indeed that any concession to the INA, even to the
release of these prisoners, would be fatal for the Indian Army; that it would
almost certainly make it impossible for the CinCI, or any senior officer of the
British Army, to remain responsible for the Indian Army and I should find it
impossible to accept responsibility for the security of India if the confidence of the
Army was to be shaken in this way.18
Field Marshal Auchinleck met with the viceroy that evening; he advised
that he had met with senior British officers, and that they were deter-
mined that no INA prisoners should be released. He also advised that
he would resign if the proposed release occurred.19 Lt Gen. Tuker

15
Singh to Auchinleck, 30 Dec. 1946, No. 1204, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also reproduced in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 855–7, and Hamid,
Disastrous, pp. 121–2. Hamid speciﬁcally states that Auchinleck was furious.
16
Auchinleck to Singh, 6 Jan. 1947, No. 1208, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also reproduced in Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 124–5, and Connell,
Auchinleck, pp. 859–60.
17
There is some confusion in the records about Singh’s own position on these issues; some
sources indicate that he opposed back pay and reinstatement, while Connell speciﬁcally
states that Singh was in favour of back pay; see Auchinleck, p. 859.
18
Wavell to Auchinleck, 9 Jan. 1947, No. 1208, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 859–60, and Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 125–6.
He stated to Pethick-Lawrence the day before he that could not ‘possibly give way’: Wavell
to Pethick-Lawrence, 8 Jan. 1947, TOP, IX, 263, p. 487.
19
See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 126, and Connell, Auchinleck, p. 860.

recalled that it was clear that Auchinleck would not and could not back
down, as to do so could result in a breakdown in army discipline.20
Nehru met with Auchinleck on the 14th, and Singh with Wavell on the
20th, both stressing the need to release the INA prisoners. Wavell
responded that he would have nothing to do with it and that, if it
occurred, it would probably mean the disintegration of the Indian
Army.21
Despite opposition, the issue did not disappear; in a letter to Lord
Pethick-Lawrence dated 21 January 1947, Lord Wavell indicated that
Singh was still pressing the INA issue, citing pressure on him from the
left wing of the Congress Party, including Sarat Chandra Bose,
Chandra Bose’s brother. Wavell considered Singh nothing more than
a mouthpiece for Nehru, and also believed that petitions for the release
of prisoners and back pay would later shift to demands for reinstate-
ment into the army. Wavell was unequivocal that he supported
Auchinleck’s objections;22 he stated that he would refuse to have the
issue discussed in cabinet, and would refer it to HMG for resolution.
He advised Pethick-Lawrence of this, concluding that ‘I trust I shall
have full support of His Majesty’s Government in resisting these
demands, the acceptance of which would I am sure result in the
beginning of the disintegration of the Indian Army, which is essential
to avoid.’23
The India and Burma Committee met in London on 22 January to
discuss Singh’s proposals and Wavell’s comments. The committee
agreed with Wavell and Auchinleck’s assessment, particularly the con-
tention that any release of the INA would be detrimental to the morale of
the Indian Army. They agreed that Wavell should meet with Singh and
Nehru and emphasise the need to drop the proposal. If they refused to do
so, Wavell had the right to over-rule the motion within the cabinet, as
being prejudicial to the interests of British India.24
Following this decision, Wavell and Auchinleck met with Singh,
Nehru, and Liaquat Ali Khan on the 24th to discuss the matter. They
laid out their reasons why they considered proposals for INA release

20 21
Tuker, Memory, p. 210. Hamid, Disastrous, p. 128.
22
He speciﬁcally stated: ‘[Auchinleck] considers acceptance would be fatal to morale of the
Indian Army and would make his position impossible’ (Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 21
Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/1578, OIOC, BL); also in TOP, IX, 289, pp. 522–3, and Connell,
Auchinleck, p. 680.
23
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 21 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/1578, OIOC, BL; also in TOP, IX,
289, pp. 522–3, and Connell, Auchinleck, p. 680.
24
See Minute of 6th Meeting of the India and Burma Committee, 22 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/
1578, OIOC, BL; also Telegram from Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, 22 Jan. 1947, BL
(also in TOP, IX, 295–6 and 301, pp. 528–9 and 537–40).

unacceptable. In reporting the meetings, Wavell characterised the tone as

‘cordial’, but indicated that he felt unsure about what the end result
would be.25
In mid February, Singh and others within the Interim Government
agreed to drop the issue of back pay for the INA, but continued to insist
on release of the final prisoners; Auchinleck and Wavell continued to
resist.26 On 18 February, Nehru informed Wavell that the resolution
would be brought up in the assembly,27 and on 19 March, Wavell
summoned the cabinet at night and informed them that he was over-
ruling their efforts.28 Interestingly, Nehru kept this veto silent within the
Interim Government. He waited until the new viceroy, Lord Mount-
batten, arrived later in the month.
Nehru informed Mountbatten that a resolution on the INA was going
to go forward during the first week of April. Mountbatten met with
Auchinleck, who reiterated his opposition, along with that of many senior
officers of the Indian Army. Mountbatten, however, felt sure there had to
be some compromise position acceptable to Nehru and the Interim
Government as well as the army,29 and a meeting was called for 2 April
to attempt to find one.30 Mountbatten reported afterwards that a com-
promise was reached following a tense meeting: ‘what we have in mind is
that these advisers [who came from the army as well as from the Interim
Government] should examine the proceedings of the various Courts
Martial and give their opinion as to the desirability of reviewing the
findings and sentences in each case, and make a report to the CinCI
whether in their opinion the findings and sentences should be altered or

25
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 24 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/1578, OIOC, BL. See also Moon,
ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 414.
26
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 12 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 383, pp. 681–6. See also Moon,
ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, 11 Feb. 1947, pp. 418–19.
27
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 18 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 422, p. 753. See the end of the
document on p. 770 for a complete breakdown of all the INA and the German-
sponsored Legion Freies Indien that had been brought in and assessed as black, grey,
and white. There were more than 100 black and grey ofﬁcers, and 16,000 IORs and
VCOs.
28
There was a series of letters back and forth before 19 March, discussing whether Wavell
should over-rule or if Mountbatten, the newly appointed viceroy, should take up the
issue. Pethick-Lawrence directed Wavell to conclude the issue before Mountbatten
arrived. See TOP, IX, 488, pp. 863–4; 507, p. 894; 526, pp. 926–8; 530, pp. 940–50;
and 551, pp. 990–2, for more details. See also Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal,
19 Mar. 1947, pp. 430–1.
29
Record of interview between Lord Mountbatten and Field Marshal Auchinleck, 1 Apr.
1947, TOP, X, 50, p. 74.
30
See TOP, X, 52, pp. 75–83, for a full description of the meeting in detail. See also 60–2,
pp. 94–8, for details of the possible resolutions.

modiﬁed in any manner’.31 In return, the Interim Government agreed to

drop the motion.32
The INA debate was destined to end on 15 August, Independence
Day, when Lord Mountbatten had agreed that a general amnesty for the
remaining eleven INA prisoners would take effect, on the condition that
publicity would be kept to a minimum.33 The assessments of court
proceedings resulted in the decision to reduce most of the sentences,
allowing the INA to fall within the guidelines of the general amnesty.
This was agreed to by Auchinleck and Nehru; Auchinleck also empha-
sised the need for the amnesty to occur only on 15 August – not before.34
Mountbatten echoed this point: ‘it does seem important that the scheme
should be put into effect as inconspicuously as possible, and that great
care should be exercised to prevent publicity, which might have a serious
effect on the morale of the army’.35

The political landscape in early 1947

The ﬁrst major political decision of 1947 was British prime minister
Clement Attlee’s statement on the transfer of power, made in the House
of Commons on 20 February. The crux of his speech was the announce-
ment that the British would transfer power no later than June 1948;
he stated that ‘it was for the Indian people themselves to choose their
future status and constitution and that in the opinion of His Majesty’s
Government the time had come for responsibility for the Government
of India to pass into Indian hands’.36 He went on to present a number of
related issues requiring resolution, such as the structure of future rela-
tionships with the Indian Princely States. He also stressed the importance
of maintaining the effectiveness of the civil administration and the Indian
Army during the transition.37 Finally, he announced the end of Lord

31
Mountbatten to Pethick-Lawrence (about the INA), 2 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 63, p. 98.
There was a follow-on letter from 3 April from Mountbatten discussing a small
amendment to the formula. See Mountbatten to Auchinleck, 3 Apr. 1947, No. 1220,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 870–1.
32
Viceroy’s Personal Reports No. 2, 9 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 108, pp. 167–72: ‘motion was
eventually withdrawn’.
33
‘Record of interview between Lord Mountbatten, Mr Jinnah and Mr Liaquat Ali Khan’,
29 Jul. 1947, TOP, X, 279, pp. 550–4.
34
Viceroy’s Personal Reports, 1 Aug. 1947, TOP, X, 302, pp. 603–4.
35
Mountbatten Papers, Letters to and from the Secretary of State for India, 9 Aug. 1947,
TOP, X, 402, p. 756.
36
TOP, IX, 438, p. 773.
37
Indian Policy, Statement of 20 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 438, pp. 773–5.

Wavell’s tenure as viceroy, and the appointment of Lord Mountbatten to

replace him as the final holder of that post.38
Reaction to this announcement was mixed in India; many within the
Interim Government were pleased by what it indicated, but the language
of the speech left considerable room for interpretation. Discussion
of partition into two independent states, Pakistan and Hindustan,
continued unabated and, if anything, appeared increasingly likely.39
Mountbatten was specifically advised by the prime minister that he was
to work with the Interim Government, and to treat it as the future
Dominion government, emphasising that ‘it is essential that there should
be the fullest co-operation with the Indian leaders in all steps that are
taken as to the withdrawal of British power so that the process may go
forward as smoothly as possible’.40
Field Marshal Auchinleck was, as always, concerned about the
announcement’s impact on the Indian Army. Various reports coming
in from the army’s intelligence branch in the first two months of 1947
were very favourable, indicating that ‘a feeling of quiet satisfaction
appears to prevail amongst Indian soldiers in general . . . [T]he unpleas-
ant task [of IS duties] is carried out with firmness and determination
without any traces of communal discrimination arising . . . [T]he men
feel proud of the fact that the Indian Army continues to set a fine example
of unity to the country.’ The report from February noted that ‘interest in
communal affairs exists and can hardly be otherwise, as men going on
leave to areas where communal disturbances have taken place naturally
absorb a certain amount of local flavour. However, relations amongst the
regiments still remain harmonious.’41
Even before the statement was released, Auchinleck advised Wavell of
his concern that the announcement was ‘likely to be detrimental to the
stability of the Indian Armed forces and may result in widespread indis-
cipline and communal trouble’.42 Wavell, in turn, pointed out to the
Chiefs of Staff in London that what might be good politically might be
thoroughly bad militarily, noting the possibility of ‘far reaching effects on
the Indian Army . . . The Indian Army is about the only stable element in

38
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, pp. 422–3.
39
See letter from Gandhi to Nehru of 21 Feb. 1947 and Nehru to Gandhi on 24 Feb. 1947,
in Michael Brecher, Nehru: A Political Biography (New York: Oxford University Press,
2005), p. 335; also in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 862.
40
Attlee to Mountbatten, Mar. 1947, in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 864–5.
41
Intelligence Reports, No. 20, 8 Jan. 1947, and No. 21, 1 Feb. 1947, L/MIL/17/5/4276,
OIOC, BL.
42
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 17 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 412, p. 734. Wavell also noted that
Auchinleck felt that authority of the British ofﬁcers within in the army would be
weakened as well.

India and its disruption may lead to disaster.’43 In a letter to Lt Gen.

Scoones on 2 March 1947, Auchinleck referred to how the ‘recent
announcement by HMG has, as you will have realized, come as a
considerable shock to very many people . . . who thought it would be
much more gradual . . . I do not see how it can fail to have an unsettling
effect on the Indian ofﬁcers and men of the Armed Forces and I am
feeling considerable anxiety about this.’44 Within days, in conﬁrmation
of his fears, communal and politically motivated violence erupted across
northern India, with the Punjab becoming centre stage.

Aid to the Civil Power in Eastern Command: March

to September 1947
HMG’s announcement of a date for independence and the potential for a
partitioned country exacerbated tensions in Eastern Command consider-
ably.45 As communal violence broke out in the Punjab, it also began to
affect the men of the various populations serving in Eastern Command.46
Sikhs and Hindus returning to Calcutta and other districts spread news
of Muslim-inspired violence, forgetting or omitting the fact that all three
communities were involved. On the evening of 16 March, the ﬁrst
incidents of violence broke out in northern Calcutta between gangs of
Muslims and Hindus.47 The army and police, after countless engage-
ments and patrols, were able to bring the situation under control by early
April, but not before nearly 1,200 people had been killed.48
Throughout March and April, there were sporadic outbreaks of com-
munal violence within Eastern Command,49 along with riots and police
mutinies. The police in Calcutta, both Muslim and Hindu (Gurkhas),
were becoming increasingly partisan; in mid April the chief minister of
Bengal, Suhrawardy, ordered the recruitment of some 600 Punjabi
Musalmans, former soldiers, to offset the 1,000 Gurkha policemen in

43
Wavell to Chiefs of Staff, 20 Feb. 1947, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
44
Auchinleck to Scoones, 2 Mar. 1947, No. 1215, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 863.
45
See Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, for an interesting view on the overall
issues for the British administration and Indian Army. She states, ‘the administration
might have been quite capable of functioning effectively, the army quite capable of
imposing order, but the British people and government at home were no longer willing
to settle the Indian problem by force. All that could be done by the British authorities
therefore was to contain the situation as far as practicable, and restore order as quickly as
possible once disturbances had broken out’ (p. 27).
46
See Yasmin Khan, ‘Out of Control?’, for more background on the violence in the UP.
47 48
Tuker, Memory, p. 228. Ibid., pp. 229–30.
49
As stated earlier, it included the provinces of Bengal, Assam, United Provinces, and
Bihar.

Calcutta. Within days, there was an incident involving the two groups
firing upon one another,50 and the chief minister and his government
were accused of exacerbating communal tension by recruiting PMs.51
The army, once again, was commended for maintaining professionalism
during this tense period.52 The tensions remained; in mid July the
governor of Bengal, Sir Frederick Burrows, reported his fear that the
PM police would prove unreliable and partisan when the Boundary
Commission announced its findings in mid August.53
The governor’s fears were not unreasonable; Indian Army troops had
been stationed in Bihar since the first outbreaks of communal violence in
1946. In late March 1947, communal tensions in Bihar began to escalate
once again; the army carried out numerous flag marches in rural districts,
to demonstrate its presence and preparedness to quell any violence. On 24
March, a police mutiny erupted at Patna; within minutes, the army was
summoned to arrest the mutineers, who had overtaken the police in the
barracks and the armoury. The inspector general of police and district
magistrate were also called in; within hours, the mutineers were sur-
rounded by both British and Indian troops, and gave up without a fight.
No sooner had this episode ended than another strike erupted at Gaya;
once again the army was summoned to assist. Hard on the heels of this
incident came reports of more strikes planned across the province over
the course of 25 and 26 March. The causes for the initial mutiny were
described as ‘the culmination of a year’s subversive activity amongst the
police which, despite consistent warnings, ministers have failed to check.
Military assistance at the moment is adequate.’54 The next flash point
was Monghyar, where again mutineers seized the armoury. These scat-
tered mutinies were easily contained by the army.
Former INA soldiers also made their presence felt. The Bihar govern-
ment had hired some and formed them into an ‘Anti-Smuggling Corps’
that was given the mission of stopping rice from being shipped out of
Bihar to other provinces.55 This corps was an ill-disciplined force which
gained a reputation for being ‘trigger happy’, and the Bihar government
agreed to disband them after Lt Gen. Tuker’s command lodged

50
Record of interview between Lord Mountbatten and Mr Tyson, 15 Apr. 1947, TOP, X,
154, p. 263.
51
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 4, 24 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 211, pp. 403–11.
52
See letter to the commanding ofﬁcer of the 2nd Kumaon Regiment on 23 May 1947, in
which the battalion was praised warmly for its abilities: Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers,
IWM.
53
Burrows to Mountbatten, 18 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 161, p. 224.
54
Governor Bihar to Secretary of State for India, 27 Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
55
Tuker, Memory, pp. 222 and 230–1.

numerous protests. Lord Mountbatten also expressed his contempt for

the Bihar government’s practice of recruiting ex-INA personnel to dis-
trict police organisations.56
On 3 June 1947, Mountbatten and HMG announced plans for the
partition of the subcontinent into two Dominions, along with an earlier
date for independence.57 Tuker and his commanders braced for a violent
public response, centring on the United Provinces and especially
Calcutta.58 On the day of the announcement, things were quiet. On 4
June, violence erupted between Hindu and Muslim gangs. The police
and army, working co-operatively, were able to quell much of the
violence.59 As of late June, Tuker was still reporting that the army was
carrying out its duties in a professional manner and was being
commended by the police,60 even as nationalist newspapers in Eastern
Command published inﬂammatory stories and political and communal
violence increased steadily. Tuker deployed a border cordon and ‘mobile
columns’ to the border regions of UP and Punjab to block any Sikh or
any other armed incursions into his command.61
Outbreaks of violence continued in large and small communities
across the United Provinces, including Cawnpore and Assam in the
east62 as the month progressed, but the police and army continued to
work together effectively.63 Interestingly, Bihar and Orissa remained
fairly quiet, even as the rest of Eastern Command became more and
more tense. However, violence continued to increase in Calcutta, which
had been the epicentre of politically and communally driven violence
throughout 1946.64 Tuker reported that violent communal attacks were
on a steady increase throughout the month of June, recording that

56
See Record of Interview between Lord Mountbatten and Mr Sri Krishna Sinha, 2 May
1947, TOP, X, 285, p. 564.
57
See Philips, ed., Select Documents, IV, pp. 397–402, for more detail. The Indian
Independence Act, 18 July 1947, announced the date of 15 August 1947. See ibid.,
pp. 407–11, for more details.
58
Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, p. 139.
59 60
Tuker, Memory, pp. 295–7. See Tuker, Memory, p. 299 and Appendix IV.
61
Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, p. 139.
62
Violence had erupted between the various private armies of the political wings in Assam
and the paramilitary organisation in May; the Assam Rifles had dealt swiftly with the
situation. See Viceroy’s Personal Report No. 6, 8 May 1947, TOP, X, 354, pp. 681–92.
63
Even as independence arrived, the police in Cawnpore appeared to be capable of dealing
with any flare-ups. The senior superintendent of police, George Boon, reported that
‘we sent out orders to the armed motor patrols to find trouble and to put it down
ruthlessly. They were to shoot to kill anyone attacking, looting or starting fires’ (in
‘Memories of August 1947’, Chowkidar, vol. 8, no. 2 (Autumn 1997), compiled by
Rosie Llewellyn-Jones, pp. 2–3).
64
Tuker, Memory, pp. 341–6.

‘Calcutta had passed beyond gangster methods, it was in the grip of

anarchy.’65
With a month to go before independence and violence still on the rise,
it was decided to heavily reinforce the police in Calcutta. By mid July
three British battalions, seven Indian and Gurkha battalions, and one
cavalry regiment were in place to provide support,66 with the aim of
supporting the police leading efforts to deal with the violence. This
deployment was a temporary surge for the last month of the Raj;67 the
British battalions were scheduled to pull out by 15 August,68 and all but
four Indian and Gurkha battalions would be redeployed to other sectors
of Eastern Command or shipped to Pakistan as part of the reconstitution
process.69
Lt Gen. Tuker communicated five key themes to his command in
anticipation of the difficult month ahead. First, anxiety and violence
had created an environment of defeatist thoughts and views within all
classes. Second, it was essential that confidence be restored within the
army, and that the army set the example of soldierly discipline and
efficiency. Third, refugees should be restored as soon as possible and
treated with sympathy and kindness, and troops should act with vigour
against all wrongdoers. Fourth, personnel should counter defeatist atti-
tudes and rumours that might cause friction within the army; anyone

65
Ibid., p. 349. The viceroy made specific reference to the use of firearms in Calcutta in his
Personal Report, No. 12, from 11 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 65, pp. 92–102.
66
Garrison numbers in Calcutta, Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM. See also Burrows to
Mountbatten, 18 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 161, p. 224.
67
Mountbatten specifically asked Nehru for more forces to come to Calcutta to avoid a
major communal war on and after 15 August. See Mountbatten to Nehru, 21 Jul. 1947,
TOP, XII, 193, pp. 282–3, and Nehru’s response in 194, pp. 283–5.
68
The British battalions stationed in India had done stellar work in IS duties since 1945.
Decisions were being made to remove British battalions and units from IS duty
gradually, going back to 1946. This process began with removing British battalions
from Indian divisions and organising them into ‘Independent Brigades’. By the
summer of 1947, there were six brigade groups in the country. Nehru was keen for
the British troops to leave as soon as possible after independence, and for them not to be
used for IS duties in the lead-up to 15 August. Nehru and many within Congress viewed
the British Army troops as ‘foreign and [representing] foreign rule’. At a meeting in June
1947 with the CIGS, Field Marshal Montgomery, it was decided that it would take six
months after independence for all British troops to leave India, due to shipping
constraints. The first British troops left Bombay two days after independence. See
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, pp. 80 and 191, as well as Auchinleck to Lord
Alanbrooke, 9 Feb. 1946, No. 1136, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
A corollary to all of this was that all British troops had been removed from the 4th
Indian Division, so no British battalions served in the Punjab. As the carnage and
disruption spread, however, Nehru asked for British troops to be deployed in New
Delhi. See Conclusion, pp. 338–51, for more details.
69
Tuker, Memory, pp. 378–9.

putting self-interest before duty would be dismissed. Fifth, all points that
he had raised should be brought to the notice of all within the
command.70
Tuker and some of his senior staff met with the viceroy and the
governor of Bengal on 30 July. The viceroy specifically asked if there
was a need for a ‘Joint Command’ for Bengal, similar to what had been
created for the Punjab – the PBF. Tuker asserted that there was no need
for such an organisation,71 and Maj. Gen. Ranking (the military com-
mander in Bengal) and the governor of Bengal agreed. While they
anticipated more trouble in Calcutta, the military command had drawn
up specific plans to defend key locations within the city and then to take
back the rest of the city by force, if need be. Tuker also confirmed that
there were enough troops to deal with Calcutta, and that no further
trouble was anticipated in East Bengal.72
Lord Mountbatten having indicated his confidence in the command-
ers and the military plan for Calcutta,73 Lt Gen. Tuker sent a lengthy
signal to his commanders in early August, outlining the keys for success
in the coming weeks, reiterating the themes outlined above. Anticipating
that his forces might become too stretched to deal with increasing vio-
lence as 15 August approached, he also advised his dwindling staff across
Eastern Command that, if troubles erupted that were beyond the civil
departments’ capacity, area commanders should not hesitate to demand
martial law. They should also be prepared to use more force than had
been used in the past.74
There was some discussion of Tuker inheriting Delhi as part of his
responsibilities after 1 August, as well as part of the eastern Punjab which
bordered UP. Tuker made it clear that this would be difficult for his
command, so Army HQ took command of Delhi and the PBF took over
most of the Punjab.75
Overall, the Indian Army in Eastern Command was able to keep most
of the violence that erupted to a manageable level during the period up to
and immediately following independence. An officer from the 4/2nd
King Edward VII’s Own Gurkhas recalled that

70
Signal, Jul. 1947, Box 71/21/4/4, Tuker Papers, IWM.
71
He had done a battleﬁeld circulation across the region over the previous weeks to assess
the situation and felt that all was in hand. The 9th Brigade from the 5th Indian Division
was on call to deal with any possible ‘border issues’: Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in
India’, p. 140. See below, pp. 311–37, for more discussion on the PBF.
72
Record of interview between Mountbatten, Tuker, Ranking, and Burrows, 30 Jul. 1947,
TOP, XII, 289, pp. 422–3.
73
Viceroy’s Personal Report, no. 15, 1 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 302, para. 9, pp. 443–56.
74 75
Tuker, Memory, p. 406. Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, pp. 139–40.

on the eve of India’s independence I was fully armed at the front of the ofﬁcers’
mess . . . [T]wo other Companies were seated on their beds in barrack rooms
ready to move at short notice . . . Calcutta suffered a riot nearly every day in one
part or another . . . At independence it was expected that the balloon really would
go up, hence our standing by ready to go where needed. Midnight came and went
and nothing happened. No orders from Brigade, none of the unmistakable
sounds of a communal riot . . . I would like to ﬁnish by saying that the peace
continued but Hindus and Muslims were at each other’s throats again in a very
short notice.76

Nehru commended the Indian Army units in the UP area in a letter to a

British general. He stated: ‘I shall be glad if you kindly convey to the
troops under your command a message on my behalf thanking them for
the cheerful and devoted manner in which they have in these difficult
times invariably come out to help in the maintenance of law and order in
this province.’77 Tuker sent a signal to the troops in Calcutta and Bengal:
‘please express to all of the officers and men . . . [M]y thanks for their
excellent work in the very trying circumstances in Calcutta during all
these past weeks. Their complete impartiality and their good discipline
have won the confidence of all in Calcutta and have raised the name of
the troops of this command higher than ever before.’78 This applied
throughout Eastern Command;79 however, the violence in the Punjab
was of another order altogether.

Aid to the Civil Power and violence in the Punjab

(Northern Command): March to September 1947
Prime Minister Attlee’s speech on the plan for transfer of power
naturally had an impact in the Punjab, the area where officials and
officers most feared outbreaks of violence. The multi-sectarian Unionist
Party of the Punjab had been soundly defeated by the Muslim League
in the provincial elections of February 1946, winning seventy-five of the
eighty-six seats reserved for Muslim candidates. According to Tan Tai
Yong, ‘at the end of the war, the Muslim elements within this larger

76
‘Memories of August 1947’, Chowdikar, account by Maj. John Thresh, pp. 10–11. See
chapter 33, pp. 424–9, in Tuker’s While Memory Serves for a narrative of the ‘last
Calcutta riot’ of September 1947.
77
Tuker, Memory, p. 465.
78
Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM. See also the letter from Tuker to Auchinleck from
November 1947, where he states that ‘the Army as a whole in Eastern Command has
behaved quite wonderfully in all these troubles hitherto, we’ve had no friction at all in the
units and I hope we won’t’.
79
See Wainwright, ‘Keeping the Peace in India’, p. 141.

rural–military elite, pressured by the increasingly popular appeal of

Pakistan, made a tactical shift from the Unionist Party to the Muslim
League’.80
As a result of this shift, Sir Khizr Hayat Tiwana remained in charge as
the prime minister of the Punjab, but with less power.81 Many observers
felt that he miscalculated when he formed his Coalition Cabinet,
appointing three Muslims (from his own party), two Hindus (from
Congress), and one Sikh. Many Muslims considered his actions a
betrayal. The Muslim League had no seat in the cabinet, even though
they had most of the Muslim seats.82
By 1947, the Provincial Government of the Punjab was clearly becom-
ing more sectarian. Members largely fell into two clear camps: the
Muslim League, hoping for the establishment of a Pakistan; and Hindus
and Sikhs, clamouring to avoid the possibility of a partitioned Punjab.
The governor of the Punjab, Sir Evan Jenkins, reported to Lord Wavell in
August 1946 on the communal position in the Punjab, emphasising the
fracturing of society along communal lines: ‘We have here the material
for a vast communal upheaval . . . [W]hat the Punjab needs at the present
stage of its social and economic development is a Government represent-
ing all three communities . . . with a marked rural bias . . . [S]uch a
Government could be formed by a Coalition based upon genuine
common interest, or by a revived and strengthened Unionist Party.’ He
went on to conclude that the Coalition Ministry needed to confront the
following: (a) the communal press, (b) violent speakers, (c) private
armies, (d) lawlessness of all kinds, and (e) how to make clear by actions
its support of district ofﬁcers in the use of law-and-order powers. He
warned that, if these points were not addressed, upheaval would ensue:
‘it will begin with communal rioting in the towns on an unprecedented
scale. The Sikh villagers of the Central Punjab and the Jats of the East
will join in before long, and the Muslim villagers of the North and the
West will follow suit.’83
The presence of private armies, and the inability of the Punjab Minis-
try to rein them in, were disquieting additional complications to an

80
See Tan Tai Yong, ‘Punjab and the Making of Pakistan: The Roots of a Civil–Military
State’, in Low and Brasted, eds., Freedom, p. 210. Yong elaborates: ‘In 1947, the
military-administrative superstructure held together Western Punjab amidst the
unprecedented violence and upheaval brought about by independence and partition’
(ibid.). See also Talbot, Divided Cities, pp. 37–8.
81
See Talbot, Khizr Tiwana, for a more detailed account of Khizr Tiwana’s tenure,
speciﬁcally pp. 145–66 for issues in early 1947.
82
See comments by Hamid, Disastrous, p. 130.
83
Jenkins to Wavell, 31 Aug. 1946, ‘Appreciation of Punjab Situation at the end of August
1946’, TOP, VIII, 233, pp. 371–6.

already complex situation.84 Sir Evan Jenkins reported in late 1946 that
numbers recruited to private armies were rapidly expanding on both
sides of the communal divide. He attributed this to the ‘removal of
restrictions by expiry of the Defence of India Rules of 1946 and the
current communal tension’.85 Sir Khizr Tiwana moved against fellow
Muslim armed civilians in the Muslim League Volunteers, when the
authorities arrested more than 100 of them.86 In early 1947, Jenkins
pressured Khizr Tiwana to take action against the large private armies
that had been forming over the last months as communal violence spread
from the east to the north.87 The power and strength of the private armies
were assessed in an intelligence report in February 1947. The men
attended various training camps, where former INA soldiers as well as
demobilised Indian Army soldiers were reportedly providing the training,
and some were reportedly wearing ‘military’ uniforms. Many reports
focusing on the rise of the ‘volunteer para-military movements’ hinted
at the fact that the organisations were exceptionally well drilled in
military skills, without apparently speculating on the reasons for this.
Senior officers assumed that former soldiers or even VCOs were behind
some of the professional drill techniques (and later fighting quality) that
these organisations demonstrated.88 The authorities estimated that para-
military organisations across India comprised more than 500,000
members,89 and their impact on the violence in the Punjab during the
spring and summer of 1947 is apparent from orders issued from the
governor’s office, specifically a ‘ban on military drill, carrying of arms
and processions’.90 Many of the weapons in question came from Second

84
The various organisations were listed in early 1947 as the following, including numbers:
National Volunteer Corps or Rashtriya Swayam Sewak Sangh (RSS) (Hindu, 100,000);
Muslim League Nationalist Guards (Muslim, 92,000); Akalis (Sikhs, 90,000); Khaksars
(Muslim, 12,000); Ahars (Muslim, 3,000); Azad Hindu Volunteer Corps (Hindu,
58,000); Red Shirts (Congress Moslem, 12,500); Azad Hind, Congress left wing
(Hindu, 8,500); and a variety of the smaller organisations. See ‘Volunteer
Organizations in India’, 22 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/745, OIOC, BL.
85
Indian Political Intelligence, 22 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
86
Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 27 Nov. 1946, TOP, IX, 107, pp. 195–7.
87
See Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, 26 Jan., in Rukhsana Zafar, ed., Disturbances in the
Punjab: 1947 (Islamabad: National Documentation Centre, 1995), pp. 33–4.
88
Tuker had no doubt that this was what was happening: ‘many ex-servicemen provided a
trained nucleus, and acted as experienced leaders [for the jathas]’ (Memory, p. 147). See
also Copland, ‘Master’, pp. 687–9, and Talbot, Divided Cities, pp. 37–8.
89
See Intelligence Correspondence with War Ofﬁce, 22 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/745, OIOC,
BL. A senior Indian policeman also stated that ‘these [demobbed soldiers] very soon
started to join in the INA receptions and organisations’: Mss Eur C290 Channing
Pearce, IP, OIOC, BL.
90
Political Situation, Governor of Punjab to Sec. of State for India, 22 Feb. 1947, L/WS/1/
1009, OIOC, BL.

World War arsenals and dumps that had not been destroyed when US
forces91 left the area; military intelligence received information that many
of the weapons had been seized and distributed to volunteer organisa-
tions.92 Intelligence reports also stated bluntly that ‘India’s so-called
volunteer organisations are in fact private and communal armies.’93
On 24 January 1947, the Coalition Ministry moved to outlaw and
arrest many of the senior leadership of the various private armies, chieﬂy
the Hindu RSS and the Muslim League Nationalist Guards. The
Muslim League responded immediately, lodging formal complaints
against the action, calling on the viceroy to reverse the actions of the
Punjab ministry,94 and launching a mass civil disobedience campaign.
The Punjab Ministry, feeling the pressure, removed the ban on the
Muslim League Guards.95 On 2 March 1947, Khizr Tiwana resigned
from his position and dissolved the Coalition Ministry.96 Despite the
coalition’s efforts, the Punjab was becoming steadily more divided, and
the call for partition of the Punjab more pronounced.97 Governor Sir
Evan Jenkins reported on 4 March 1947 that ‘There has been much
communal tension . . . Congress and Sikhs are determined to resist
Muslim rule . . . [N]o progress in forming Coalition . . . [S]ituation is
grave and without Coalition communal trouble on a large scale seems
inevitable.’98 As Yasmin Khan wrote, ‘the resignation of Khizr as premier
of Punjab on 2 March and the collapse of his fated ministry was the ﬁnal

91
The United States had supported British efforts in the Burma campaign, as well as
providing a regimental combat team, weapons, and advisers for the Nationalist Chinese
forces ﬁghting in northern Burma. There were supply dumps spread throughout eastern
India. While the American forces carried out demobilisation procedures for some of
these areas, not all dumps were closed to a consistent professional standard.
92
Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 168–9. See also Tuker, Memory.
93
Indian Political Intelligence, 22 Jan. 1947, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL.
94
See letters and correspondence from Jenkins, Pethick-Lawrence, and Wavell, TOP, IX,
310–14, pp. 556–63, for much more detail.
95
Wavell to King George VI, 24 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 460, pp. 801–11.
96
For full details of the reasons for his resignation, see letter from Jenkins to Wavell, 3 Mar.
1947, TOP, IX, 476, pp. 829–34. See also Talbot, ‘The 1947 Violence in the Punjab’,
for more speciﬁc political background, esp. p. 3.
97
See India and Burma Committee, Meeting 5 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 346, pp. 617–20;
Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, 8 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 366, pp. 654–5. Wavell sent a note
to Pethick-Lawrence on 12 February, laying out the opinion that no one group could
hope to govern the Punjab without forming some type of coalition. If this did not
succeed, then partition was inevitable: Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, 12 Feb. 1947,
TOP, IX, 383, pp. 681–6. See also the follow-up summary of Lord Wavell’s meeting
with Nehru on 22 Feb. 1947, TOP, IX, 448, pp. 785–6.
98
Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, 4 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 481, p. 851. See the Punjab Police
Special Branch report for the week ending 8 March in Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 83–5,
as well as NDC Accession No. S415. It gives a very detailed description of the outbreak
and rapid expansion of the violence.

straw . . . Master Tara Singh unsheathed his sword on the Punjab Assem-
bly Building and other Sikh leaders called for Sikh rule once again in the
Punjab. The communal civil war began.’99 Ian Talbot stated that ‘By
the end of the first week of March . . . quarters of most of the major
cities in the Punjab were burning.’100 The violence spread to many
of the Muslim-dominated western Punjab districts, where large numbers
of Sikhs were driven from their homes. It was clear from the outset
that the violence was well organised, a trend that continued in the
Punjab.101
On 5 March, Governor Jenkins requested drastic measures, in an
attempt to deal with the inevitable civil war. He attempted to reform
the Coalition Ministry, even as the government began to break down. He
advised Lord Wavell that ‘HMG must be quite clear as to the realities.
During the next sixteen months [up to June 1948] order can be main-
tained in the Punjab whether under communal Ministry or Section 93
only by the use of force. Under communal ministry British officers and
Indian Army will be used to conquer Punjab for the community in
power.’102
The principal concern for many in the army command was the notice-
able deterioration in performance of IS duties and procedures brought
about by the drop in numbers and professionalism in the police and the
ICS. They were not alone in this assessment, as evidenced by what
passed in a meeting between Jenkins and Nehru on 14 March. Nehru
had arrived in the Punjab to assess the situation; he had rapidly come to
the conclusion that the ‘solution to our problem in seriously disturbed
areas . . . was to hand over to the Military Commanders. Rightly or
wrongly the communities had lost confidence in the services [police].’103
Nehru went even further, raising the possibility of more draconian meas-
ures to be applied if violence continued to escalate.104 His sentiments in
this situation had changed notably from those expressed before the
previous year’s violence in other parts of northern India.

99
Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, p. 83. See her ch. 5 for more background to the violence.
100
Talbot, Divided Cities, p. 39.
101
Talbot, ‘The 1947 Violence in the Punjab’, pp. 4–5.
102
Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, 6 Mar. 1947, L/WS/1/1009, OIOC, BL; see also similar
correspondence between Jenkins and Wavell, 5 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 493, p. 869. See
letter of 7 March 1947 from Jenkins to Wavell, which discusses in detail the communal
make-up of the province, based upon the 1941 census: TOP, IX, 501, pp. 878–84.
103
Note by Jenkins, 14 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 532, pp. 952–3. Jenkins speciﬁcally
mentioned that Nehru stated ‘In Bihar ﬁrm action by the Army had had an electric
effect. I replied that troops were operating in large numbers in the disturbed areas and
had been told to interpret the principle of “minimum force” in a sensible way’ (p. 952).
104
Hamid goes into some detail about the meeting as did Jenkins. See Disastrous, p. 143.

As violence escalated throughout the month of March, weaknesses in

both the internal security doctrine and the civil administration became
apparent. Lt Gen. Messervy (GOC Northern Command) advised that
‘civil intelligence works too slowly to give quick enough results and timely
warning. It also breaks down completely in the rural areas where the
trouble starts. The military intelligence net is now being established . . .
[T]he details are not yet fully worked out but it is ideal to have one reliable
agent on every patrol . . . [T]roops must also gather intelligence.’105
The growing violence affected training of recruits as well as officers.
The commandant of the 14th Punjab Regimental Centre noted: ‘recent
training was seriously handicapped . . . due to the necessity of employing
all ranks capable of handling a gun on civil defence. This entailed using
recruits with only three months’ service . . . [I]t was in accordance with
orders from higher authority and could not be avoided.’106
The manual MTP 11-A reiterated that ‘minimum force is the least
amount of force necessary to achieve the immediate object . . . [Y]our
object is not to kill but to incapacitate temporarily . . . [S]hoot for effect . . .
[S]top the instant the crowd shows signs of breaking up . . . [S]ecure the
casualties immediately.’107 However, the escalating level of violence in
the Punjab and resulting breakdowns in civil–military communications
began to undermine the principle.108 Jenkins remained firm that Central
Ordnance was to be used with discretion by military commanders.109
Messervy was forced to issue a new set of orders for Internal Defence
in March 1947. He noted the change in circumstances, writing that ‘It
has been stressed that troops must act with speed and determination . . .
[T]he doctrine of minimum force is no longer the predominant factor . . .
[A]ll officers, VCOs, NCOs, must realise that although they have been
granted these wide powers careless or reckless action on their part . . . [in]
exercising these powers will not be condoned.’ Regarding civil–military
relations, he advised that ‘[a]ll leaders . . . remember . . . a. intelligence!
find out what is going [on;] b. dispel all false rumours and see that the
truth is known[;] c. help all you have wounded, bring the terrorised
to safety and [the] guilty to justice[;] d. enforce the strictest discipline
to ensure that your unit or sub unit gives no cause for accusation

105
‘Some remarks on the disturbances in the Punjab’, Mar. 1947, File 50, Rees Papers,
OIOC, BL.
106
Cotton, 8002–68, NAM.
107
MTP 11-A, p. 6. See Chapter 5 for more description of the manual.
108
See Jenkins to Wavell, 17 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 540, pp. 965–71, where he reported that
‘troops were able to inﬂict fairly heavy casualties on the attackers’.
109
Note by Jenkins, 20 Mar. 1947, TOP, IX, 555, pp. 996–8.

by the civil population. If your discipline is really good the vast mass of
people will welcome your presence and do all they can to help.’110
In another internal paper discussing the disturbances in the Punjab,
Messervy highlighted other emerging issues. For example, he identified
concerns regarding the professionalism of the Punjab Police.111 While
they did not collapse, there were many reports of their collusion or
lack of drive to stop violence against one part of the community.
He noted that, while ‘the army has been steady and disciplined
throughout . . . there have been a few cases of Muslim troops not acting
with [the] energy or alacrity with which they should have done’. He also
documented two cases of ICOs who were accused of bias, and the
ongoing investigation into these cases. Gen. Messervy’s report also high-
lighted the need to make clear within the province that any ‘pensioners
engaged in the disturbances, or not co-operating with the Government to
prevent them, [will] lose their pensions’. He specifically asserted that ‘the
districts affected are as heavily recruited as any in India. There is little
doubt, I fear, that ex-soldiers and pensioners, some of the latter even
including VCOs, have been heavily involved in many areas. In others they
did very well and helped to save many of the minority community.’112 This
last statement confirmed, in many senior officers’ minds, the potential
threat of a large, demobilised, militarised society with no loyalty except to
their communal leaders.113
Lt Gen. Messervy’s report also discussed the issues regarding the use
of martial law in the Punjab. He felt that if it were imposed, it would be

110
‘Some remarks on the disturbances in the Punjab’, Mar. 1947, File 50, Rees Papers,
OIOC, BL.
111
This concern was also noted in an intelligence report to Auchinleck in May 1947:
‘it would appear that the police, particularly in those districts which have suffered in
the previous disturbances, will tend to become partisan’ (Auk GOC Personal
Intelligence – Punjab, File 50, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL). Senior officers within the
Punjab Police attempted to counter these claims. The senior superintendent of police in
Lahore in February 1947, S. Supt. John Morton, stated: ‘In these conditions
[communal violence] it never ceased to amaze [me] . . . the staunchness and loyalty of
my police in doing their duty without fear or communal bias . . . [W]hilst it would be
naïve to deny that there [was] some truth in these assertions [police partiality] the fact
that my men possessed a strong sense of public duty . . . [S]o far as my police were
concerned, they were remaining marvellously staunch’ (Mss Eur D1003 Morton,
4 Feb. 1947, OIOC, BL). Morton’s command ended later the same month. The
loyalty of his men appeared to deteriorate later in the year.
112
Official Correspondence, Political Situation in India, 22 Mar. 1947, Mountbatten
Papers, OIOC, BL. See also earlier account from Jenkins to Wavell, on 17 Mar. 1947,
TOP, IX, 540: ‘the commander of 7th Division [Maj. Gen. Q. de T. Lovett] told me when
I saw him yesterday that attacks on non-Muslims had been led in some cases by retired
Army officers – some of them pensioners with honorary commissioned ranks’ (p. 967).
113
See Chapter 6 for an in-depth discussion of the demobilisation and division of the army.

used by the Muslim League as political propaganda, and to fuel accus-

ations of the army being used as an anti-Pakistan instrument. He gave it
as his opinion that, at that stage, the army had been given the correct
extra powers to deal with the situation.114
Nehru and Auchinleck had both initially been in favour of imposing
martial law115 in the Punjab, but Auchinleck withdrew his support and
backed Messervy’s position instead, chieﬂy on the grounds of lack of
troops to impose martial law effectively.116 As a result, the Punjab
Disturbed Areas Act117 was imposed instead, giving ofﬁcials wide powers
to curb riots, and impose a death penalty on people who had committed
or attempted murder or kidnapping.118
By the end of March, it appeared that most of the overt violence had
subsided in the Punjab.119 Lord Wavell had sent Field Marshal Auchin-
leck a letter, one of his last as viceroy, expressing his thanks for the
excellent work the army had done in re-establishing control in the
Punjab.120 However, Sir Evan Jenkins was quite clear that there still
existed a large undercurrent of unrest and that the Sikhs, in particular,
were quite upset. Jenkins also emphasised that he and the GOI still

114
Official Correspondence, Political Situation in India, 22 Mar. 1947, Mountbatten
Papers, OIOC, BL. He listed the extra powers as the following: (a) pensioners actively
engaged in the disturbances or not co-operating with the government to prevent them
to lose their pensions; (b) land grants of participants or non-cooperators, similarly,
to be forfeited. Another four powers which had not been promulgated initially, but
were in place, included: (a) powers of arrest given to all military officers; (b) death
penalty for arson, looting, and murderous attacks; (c) collective fines on towns and
villages involved; (d) abrogation of the minimum force principle.
115
Reports quoted Nehru as saying, ‘troops should be empowered to be utterly ruthless
and to shoot on sight’; Jinnah apparently held similar sentiments, declaring ‘I don’t care
if you shoot Moslems or not, it has to be stopped’ (quoted in Wolpert, Shameful Flight,
p. 160).
116
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 154.
117
Jenkins specifically laid out what the act meant: ‘have given authority to Magistrates and
Police and to officers of the Armed Force respectively to use extreme force, with or
without warning, against persons who in a disturbed area disobey orders prohibiting
gatherings of five or more persons or the carrying of weapons or articles capable of being
used as weapons . . . [W]hen disturbances are widespread and as serious as these have
been it is essential that Magistrates, Police and troops should have the power to deal
summarily with persons who disregard lawful orders, even though this may use more than
what appears at first sight to be “the minimum force”.’ See Jenkins to Mountbatten, MB
124, OIOC, BL, and reproduced in Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 31–2.
118
Talbot, ‘The 1947 Violence in the Punjab’, p. 7.
119
Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, p. 17. See the Sikh propaganda pamphlet in Zafar, ed., Disturbances,
pp. 131–3, which highlights the inflammatory language and accusations from different
communities that would play heavily into narratives of revenge by the Sikhs against the
Muslims.
120
Wavell to Auchinleck, 22 Mar. 1947, No. 1219, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.

needed to govern the province under Section 93, as the Muslim League
had failed in trying to form a government.121
It was reported at this time that the army had performed well in its
duties, but was under great strain and, ironically, was being criticised
once again by some within Congress for not doing enough to stop
the violence. Auchinleck was quite concerned with the impact of
the situation on the army as a whole, given the considerable percent-
age of personnel who had been recruited from the Punjab. However,
as March came to an end, things appeared to be somewhat contained
for the moment.122 Most of the violence had been in the Muslim
majority districts of the Western Punjab. It was estimated that close
to 10,000 people were killed during this period, and that more than
40,000 Sikhs became refugees.123
The impact of events on the army was being closely monitored by the
intelligence branch for obvious reasons. The first major report, com-
piled after the violence in March, indicated favourable outcomes,
noting that most soldiers recognised that the efficiency of the army
was key, and that this could be achieved only if politics and communal-
ism were kept out of the army. The British and Indian units had
acquitted themselves well during the recent violence, and the popula-
tion had confidence in the army when it operated in their villages and
districts. In the eyes of the civilian population, the army had main-
tained its ability to operate impartially and professionally. The report
did indicate certain levels of upset within various units, arising from the
desire of some soldiers to know the whereabouts and conditions of
their families living in the Punjab.124
In a letter dated 7 April, Mountbatten advised Gandhi that the immediate
disturbances in the Punjab had been dealt with, but that the root causes still
existed.125 He had written in his own reports that the country was still in an
unsettled state, not just in the Punjab but also in Bihar, Calcutta, Bombay,
Delhi, and the NWFP. He had also noted that ‘In the Punjab all parties are
seriously preparing for civil war, and of these the most businesslike and
serious are the Sikhs.’126 This last development was clear to all in the

121
The viceroy would later state in April that the only hope for a uniﬁed Punjab rested with
either a union or a coalition government and that, if this could not be achieved, partition
was inevitable. See Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 2, 9 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 108, pp.
167–72.
122
India and Burma Committee, 28 Mar. 1947, Minute 1, TOP, X, 30, pp. 38–44. See
also letter from Jenkins to Mountbatten, 31 Mar. 1947, TOP, X, 40, p. 59.
123
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, pp. 75–6.
124
Intelligence Reports, No. 23, 5 Apr. 1947, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
125
Mountbatten to Gandhi, 7 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 90, pp. 147–8.
126
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 1, 2 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 59, p. 90.

Punjab127 and in New Delhi, and accusations were aimed at the higher
levels of the Interim Government to the effect that Baldev Singh was helping
to raise funds for weapons for Sikh jathas; that there were clear links with
some of the Sikh Princely States128 in the Punjab to support jathas; and that
the Sikhs had undertaken organised and ﬁnanced incursions into the
British-administered districts of the Punjab.129 The Muslim League also
accused the GOI and the governor of the Punjab of being pro-Sikh.130
Tensions remained high and sporadic violence erupted throughout the
Punjab in April and May.131 Conscious of the unrest seething under the
surface, the clear political deadlock, and the visible arming of the Sikh
jathas, Jenkins speciﬁcally requested at least two divisions to be deployed
to the Punjab in May in preparation for the announcement of the partition
of India and, more importantly, of the Punjab.132 Lord Mountbatten agreed
and asked the deputy CinCI, Lt Gen. Smith, to have a second division in the
Punjab by early June, in anticipation of the upcoming announcement
regarding not only the likelihood of partition, but also an earlier date for
independence. According to Mountbatten, he had the unanimous support
of the Indian cabinet to deploy an extra division, to stamp out communal
violence with the ‘utmost rigour’. He added, ‘I particularly wished to have
tanks, armoured cars, and aircraft used so that the poorly armed insurgent
armies would feel that their resistance was futile since they were being
mown down without a chance of killing any of the regular armed forces.’133

127
Talbot, Divided Cities, quotes Jenkins: ‘all communities were arming for a struggle
which seemed inevitable’ (p. 58).
128
Many British officials from the Indian Political Service and British officers attached to
the State Forces had begun to leave as part of the drawdown. Most State Forces were
completely ‘Indianised’ by the summer of 1947.
129
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 9 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 109, pp. 172–6. See Minutes of
Viceroy’s 13th Misc Meeting, 11 May 1947, TOP, X, 404, pp. 759–62; Mr Abbott to
Captain Brockman, 21 May 1947, TOP, X, 510, p. 942; Brockman to Sir John Colville,
22 May 1947, TOP, X, 511, p. 943; and Copland, ‘Master’, for more details and
evidence. Hamid also notes this episode and included a specific pamphlet in his book:
see Disastrous, pp. 158–9.
130
Liaquat Ali Khan to Mountbatten, 15 Apr. 1947, TOP, X, 148, pp. 255–9. See Jenkins’
response of 16 Apr. 1947, in TOP, X, 160, pp. 281–4. Jenkins had been accused as
being pro-Muslim by many with the Congress Party; see Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s
Report, p. 110.
131
See the various letters and reports back and forth between Jenkins and the viceroy in
TOP, X and XI.
132
Mountbatten to Gen. Sir Hastings Ismay, 11 May 1947, TOP, X, 410, p. 776.
Mountbatten stated that a second division could not be deployed right away due to
the potential unrest in other areas. He specifically told Ismay to alert Auchinleck to the
potential division of the Punjab and the future impact on the need for more troops.
According to Mountbatten, Jenkins actually asked for four divisions for the Punjab to
stop a future civil war. See Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 110.
133
Lt Gen. Smith wanted a similar ordinance in place for Bengal as well. See Record of
Interview between Mountbatten and Smith, 15 May 1947, TOP, X, 445, p. 828.

Mountbatten was initially vocal in expressing his desire that any

communal civil war be ruthlessly crushed in the first instance,134
although he would later temporise on this issue. In a letter to the govern-
ors written in May, he asserted that ‘the long standing principle of using
minimum force . . . must be maintained’.135 However, any course of
action that the government wished to take was hampered by the lack
of troops available; between demobilisation and the rising communal
violence across northern and eastern India, the army was too short of
troops to deploy an additional division to the Punjab.136
The Indian Army continued to receive commendation for their apparent
impartiality during the violence up until the end of May. The various
intelligence branches kept tabs on the ‘pulse’ of the army to identify any
potential issues of communalism or political influence. An intelligence
report focusing on this period notes that ‘reports from units employed on
IS duties continue to stress impartiality shown by the troops in carrying out
their duties . . . [U]nfortunately many VCOs who were on leave or pen-
sioned took no action to prevent the disturbances in their villages or in a
few cases went to the extent of participating.’137 The army closely moni-
tored the reactions of the men serving in the Punjab through the intelli-
gence branch, especially those regiments that recruited heavily from the
region. Infantry battalions were required to send in quarterly reports
discussing various matters, including morale issues. Many commanding
officers noted that morale remained high within the units. One report
stated that ‘during the period of review a high state of morale has been
maintained. Recent disturbances in the Punjab caused concern and anxi-
ety but fortunately the affected areas only had an indirect effect.’ The same
report, however, noted that ‘releases [had] caused considerable upset in
the battalion, the changeover in officers [had] been . . . drastic and the hasty
clearing of British ECOs [had] not been to the benefit to the battalion’.138
Other battalions reported that morale was high and that ‘the trouble in the
Punjab has been strongly denounced by . . . PMs and Jats and Rajputs’.139

134
Mountbatten to Jenkins, 17 May 1947, TOP, X, 468, p. 863.
135
See TOP, X, 468, note 2, p. 863, as well as Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, p. 115. He
added, ‘I asked HMG for their support if it was decided to use drastic measures against
those starting a communal war, pointing out that, if even 10,000 fanatics were wiped
out by the Armed Forces in the ﬁrst round, this might stop the whole population of
India from becoming involved.’
136
TOP, X, 500, note 2, p. 927, and see Colville to Sardar Patel, 24 May 1947, TOP, X,
531, p. 979, where it is laid out that things are tight regarding troops being deployed for
fear of their being thinly spread in other parts of the country. Colville does mention that
the 4th Indian Division is on its way to Northern Command. The 4th Indian Division
would form the future nucleus of the Punjab Boundary Force.
137
Intelligence Reports, Nos. 23–5, Apr.–Jun. 1947, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
138
2nd Rajput Regiment, Mar. 1947, WO 268/458, NA.
139
4/6th Rajputana Riﬂes, Apr. 1947, WO 268/453, NA.

It was clear to all working and serving in the Punjab that communal
tension was at a high pitch. Violence had continued throughout the
previous weeks and months. Another major and contributing incident,
often referred to as the Meo rising, occurred in March along the border
of the Punjab and the United Provinces, west of Delhi in the Gurgaon
district. This episode proved a microcosm of the episodes of violence
flaring up across the Punjab: the police’s inability to cope with the
situation,140 leading to the collapse of law and order generally;141 a
demobilised citizenry willing to use their previous military skills and
training to devastating effect against their neighbours; the army lacking
sufficient personnel to contend with a vast area and therefore being
accused of not doing enough; and, most damaging, intervention from
the Indian Princely States in the form of weapons, supplies, soldiers, and
equipment to support a communal civil war.142
The Meo rising began when the Muslim population, called Meos,
were attacked by well-organised bands of Hindu Jats, Ahirs, and
Gujars in late March 1947. By early April, reports indicated villages
being attacked and burned by all sides, and the police and army
struggling to quell the violence.143 By early June, more than fifty
Muslim villages had been destroyed.144 The Muslim League, outraged
by the attacks, called upon the viceroy to deploy more troops to the
area. Liaquat Ali Khan also questioned the class composition of the
troops who had been deployed, and called for Muslim companies to
deploy in support.145
Accusations and evidence emerged in June of intervention by Indian
State Forces from Alwar and Bharatpur in the destruction of the Muslim
villages, both inside their own states and in British India.146 Jenkins
re-asserted that armed groups from the Indian Princely States could

140
Tuker is especially damning of the police efforts: see Memory, pp. 326–7.
141
Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 206–8.
142
See 4th Report, Box 71/21/4/4, Tuker Papers, IWM, for discussions of the Indian State
Forces getting involved in the ﬁghting and killing.
143
Jenkins to Viceroy, 3 Apr. 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
144
By July this number increased, as did the number of Hindu villages attacked and burned
by the Meos.
145
Liaquat Ali Khan to Mountbatten, 31 May 1947, TOP, XI, 11, pp. 20–2. A company of
Gurkhas and three companies from the Rajputana Riﬂes had been deployed to the area,
later replaced by Sikh soldiers. See Khan’s letter from 17 June 1947 to Mountbatten, as
well as Ismay’s response of the same day, detailing his argument and pushing hard for
Muslim troops to be deployed to protect Muslim lives. He also called for the use of
‘maximum force’ if need be: TOP, XI, 232 and 234, pp. 451–4 and 456–7.
146
Mss Eur C290 Channing Pearce, IP, OIOC, BL. This was not the only evidence, as
armed parties from the Indian States of Faridkot and Nabha were caught in Lahore by
the police and the Indian Army.

not enter British-administered areas without permission,147 but this

incident was a harbinger of things to come, and weapons, soldiers, and
heavy equipment from the Indian States continued to make their way
into the Punjab to support various sides in the coming civil war.148
In late May, Field Marshal Auchinleck and Lt Col Hamid returned to
India from exercises and meetings in the UK. Hamid observed that ‘On
our return to Delhi the Army was in good shape . . . At the moment there
is little communal feeling among them. But once they come in touch with
their kith and kin in the cities and villages it is bound to affect them.
There has been no case of disobedience in the Armed Forces so far.’149
Lt Gen. Tuker, from his position in Eastern Command, also
commended the performance of the army during the difficult first
months in the Punjab, noting that ‘the army again earned for itself, at
the very hearth of its own Punjab homes, a great name for impartiality
and the gratitude of all and sundry’.150 A letter from a senior officer to Sir
Evan Jenkins highlighted the difficulty of the Indians’ position:
many of the loyal supporters of law and order in the employ of either the ICS,
[the] police, [or the] IA [Indian Army] are inevitably looking over their shoulders
and wondering how their actions will be construed . . . [A]lthough the loyalty of
the army has remained outwardly unshaken by communal disturbances and
political events . . . it would not be unrealistic to question the loyalty in the
event of an unpopular order by HMG.151
Another worrying development mentioned in many of the battalion war
diaries from this period was the loss of veteran commissioned officers,
both British and Indian, to demobilisation, nationalisation, and
division.152 In late March 1947, the 2nd Rajputs recorded that ‘release
has considerably upset the battalion, the changeover in officers has been

147
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 31 May 1947, TOP, XI, 12, p. 24.
148
See Tuker, Memory, p. 317, for a map of the district. The other issue within the States
was the attacks on the minority populations within, causing a large refugee problem in
the border areas. The Indian State Forces by the end of August were openly accused of
attacking and killing Indian Army pensioners and families of serving Indian soldiers and
officers in the Punjab. See Tuker’s description of the attacks within the Princely States,
around the Gurgaon district, ibid., pp. 326–40, and ‘Reports on Disturbances’, Box 71/
21/1/7, Tuker Papers, IWM.
149
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 173. He added in his entry, ‘a tribute must be paid to the British
officers in the various Indian units. They are putting up a magnificent show and are
trying their best to be completely impartial. I think it is correct to say that they are
largely responsible for keeping the Indian Army sane. Of course, there are many Indian
officers who are also non-political, dedicated to their profession and who are performing
their duties impartially.’
150
Tuker, Memory, p. 228.
151
Auk GOC Personal Intelligence – Punjab, File 50, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
152
See Chapter 6 for more detailed discussion.

particularly drastic and the haste of the release of British ECOs has not
been to the benefit of the battalion.’153 The 1st Indian Grenadiers reported
that ‘morale of the unit is high, but minor shocks have been caused by
deteriorating officer situation, continual changeover of coy commanders,
etc due to the release of ECOs and EICOs with veteran experience’.154
On 2 and 3 June, Lord Mountbatten met with members of the Indian
political leadership; on the 3rd, he announced to the world that India was
to be partitioned into two separate countries and establish its independ-
ence in August 1947.155 Recognising the inevitability that both the
Punjab and Bengal would need to be partitioned, a Punjab and Bengal
Boundary Commission,156 chaired by Sir Cyril Radcliffe, was established
to demarcate the boundaries between a future India and Pakistan.157
Violence in Gurgaon continued unabated over the first week of June;
the Meos had begun organising and attacking Hindu villages and razing
them to the ground. It was being reported that the attacks were well
organised, and that many of the insurgents were well armed. Another
ominous development was reports of unprovoked attacks on the
military.158 The Indian Army troops already present were insufficient to
cover the whole of the area affected, which was estimated to be more than
1,000 square miles.159 Field Marshal Auchinleck decided to send a full
brigade to the district in an attempt to quell the violence once and for all.
Things in Lahore and Amritsar appeared to be quieter than expected
following the announcement, compared to the flare-up of violence in
Calcutta. This caused the viceroy to report, perhaps over-optimistically,
that ‘Generally speaking His Majesty’s Government’s statement [of the
3rd of June] has eased the tension throughout the country and the real
fear of communal war on a large scale has disappeared.’160 Auchinleck

153
2nd Rajput, 31 Mar. 1947, WO 268/458, NA.
154
1st Indian Grenadiers, WO 268/446, NA.
155
See Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, chapter 5, for a very good summary of the
background of the decisions taken in early June.
156
Radcliffe arrived in India only on 8 July, just over a month before independence. For a
recent and exhaustive analysis of the process and findings, see Chester, Borders and
Conflict in South Asia.
157
Talbot and Singh, eds., Partition, p. 44.
158
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 8, 5 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 91, pp. 158–65.
159
See description of an attack by the Meos on a Jat village in Tuker, Memory, p. 320:
‘mortars were booming for miles around, cannons firing, and rifle attacks were made’.
160
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 9, 12 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 162, p. 301. He also reported
that Auchinleck had carried out an assessment of the Indian Army’s reaction to the
coming division of the country and the army, writing that ‘in general the solution is
thought to be the best possible, though nearly all regret partition. Many of the troops
have not yet realized the full implication of the plan, though they are obviously
concerned at the inevitable splitting of the Services.’ See also the multiple letters and

appeared to be more realistic in his assessment, stating that the ‘situation

seems to be under control at present from a military point of view though
we quite realize trouble may increase and spread’.161 Jenkins reported on
15 June that most of the violence in the district was being subdued, but
also that he still needed more troops and that the army was stretched
throughout the province.162 Even though Gurgaon appeared to be set-
tling down somewhat, violence was erupting in the surrounding Princely
States,163 and the potential for outbreaks in the large cities of Lahore and
Amritsar was his greatest anxiety at that moment.
The Indian Army had redeployed the 4th Indian Division, under the
command of Maj. Gen. Pete Rees, from Southern Command in late
May.164 Southern Command still had forces to deal with any violence,
but was not taxed to the same levels as Eastern or Northern
Command, except for the communal violence in Bombay. The GOC
of Southern Command, Lt Gen. Sir Robert Lockhart, reporting on the
IS situation, noted that ‘I feel that the risk of serious trouble in
Southern Command is much less than in either of the other two
commands [Eastern and Northern] and we must accept reductions
to help them.’165
By 31 May, there were sixteen battalions in and around Lahore.166
The 4th Division made it clear to its men that they would be operating
under the Punjab Disturbed Area Ordinance, which covered key issues
including use of force when dealing with armed groups; disarming of
citizens with weapons; powers of arrest without warrant of people who
have either just committed a violent act or are about to do so; and
recovery of stolen property or weapons. The ordinance specified that
the army was still in support; that they should try to have police in the
lead, and avoid appearing to take action without police in the area.
Gen. Rees emphasised to his men that ‘all officers, warrant officers,
VCOs, NCOs must realize that although they have been granted these

telegrams for the months April to July in L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL, for evidence that
tensions had not subsided.
161
Auchinleck to Jenkins, 13 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 179, p. 333.
162
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 15 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 209, p. 405.
163
See Tuker, Memory, pp. 326–40, for a more detailed discussion of the violence in and
around Gurgaon. Tuker reported that most of the violence finally subsided by mid July:
ibid., p. 391.
164
Colville to Secretary of State for India, 26 May 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
165
‘Internal Situation in Southern Command, 16 June 1947’, 8310–154/47, Lockhart
Papers, NAM. See also a report from John Griffiths, an ICS official, in Southern
Command: ‘the military were scarce in south India’ (‘Memories of August 1947’,
Chowdikar, p. 4).
166
Minutes of Viceroy’s Thirty Fourth Meeting, 31 May 1947, TOP, XI, 2, pp. 1–6.

wide powers, careless or reckless action on their part will not be

condoned’.167
Lt Gen. Messervy moved his tactical HQ to Government House in
Lahore before the 3 June announcement,168 and prepared by advising
his command that ‘in the past the army has been loath to use force
except as a last resort . . . [S]tress has always been laid on the law of
minimum force . . . [I]t is now realized and rightly so that immediate
strong action is far more effective . . . [T]he law of minimum force still
applies to every situation but this force can be applied immediately.’169
The three major generals in charge of the three military areas were tied in
closely with Messervy’s HQ and with Sir Evan Jenkins, and in early June all
felt that sufﬁcient planning and organisation were in place for whatever
might come next, other than the continuing problem of understrength
battalions.170
Jenkins met with various political leaders on 23 June to discuss current
conditions. He was aware that the police and the army could only react to
whatever communal violence was coming; that they would be lacking in
numbers; and that the populations themselves as well as the political
leadership needed to change public opinion.171 The viceroy met with
senior Sikh leadership, including the Maharaja of Patiala, and impressed
upon them that if the ‘Sikhs showed any sign of ﬁght they would have
the Armed Forces of India against them and would be crushed. [The
Maharajah] fully realized this and undertook to do everything in his
power to try to steady them.’172
Jenkins’ and Mountbatten’s attempts to divert events away from com-
munal violence ultimately failed, although political leaders expressed
themselves as in agreement with their sentiments. Mountbatten reported
to Jenkins on his conversations with Jinnah and Nehru about the GOI’s
plans, including Jinnah’s statement that ‘I don’t care whether you shoot
Muslims or not, it has got to be stopped’, and Nehru’s similarly
stark declaration, ‘Martial law should be declared forthwith in Lahore,

167
‘Internal Security – Legal’, File 50, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
168
Jenkins stated that this command arrangement worked very well: ‘Our liaison with
Northern Command is excellent . . . a very useful experiment which can be repeated if
necessary’ (Jenkins to Mountbatten, 15 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 209, p. 405).
169
‘Northern Command Orders for Internal Defence, June 1947’, File 50, Rees Papers,
OIOC, BL. See also ‘Firm Action to Suppress Lawlessness’, Civil Military Gazette,
Lahore, 3 Jun. 1947, which lays out in a press conference that if Northern Command
‘have to take action to suppress lawlessness we will take ﬁrm action . . . [T]he army is not
an inferior organization, we do not take sides, we do not ﬁght for one community against
another’ (reproduced in Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 99–100).
170
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 31 May 1947, TOP, XI, 12, p. 24. See Chapter 6 for a more
in-depth discussion of the demobilisation issues.
171
Note by Sir Evan Jenkins, 23 Jun. 1947, TOP, XI, 305.
172
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 12, TOP, XII, 65, p. 94.

Amritsar and any other area you think fit . . . Whole operation should
be handed over to the military . . . [T]he troops should be empowered to
be utterly ruthless and to shoot at sight.’173 These sentiments were in
stark contrast to Jinnah’s and Nehru’s previous constant criticism of the
army’s role as Aid to the Civil Power, and their belief that the army was
operating illegally in this role. As events progressed and communal
violence worsened, both abandoned their former positions; they wanted
the situation dealt with as quickly as possible, even if it meant the death of
many, and at the hands of the army.
As the Punjab and the Bengal provinces waited to hear the findings of
the Boundary Commission, things became more and more tense. On 11
July, Jenkins recorded that communal tensions were high in most of the
area, noting that ‘communal feeling is now unbelievably bad’. More
dangerous for the Indian Army, he reported that ‘the Higher Services
[the ICS and police] have virtually disintegrated . . . In the ICS not one
non-Muslim Indian is prepared to serve in West Punjab, and only
one Muslim is prepared to serve in East Punjab. Hatred and suspicion
are entirely undisguised.’174 Even so, the Indian Army continued to
report that ‘the announcement of [partition] has no way tended to
promote communalism in the army. Discussions which do occur
between communities are reported to be free and sincere. There has
been no report of Hindu-Sikh-Muslim friction from any unit.’ The
report did include the caveat that ‘the average Indian Other Rank has
yet to grasp the final implications of the announcement’.175
It was increasingly clear to both the civilian and military chains of
command that the Punjab was facing significant disruption in the coming
weeks, and possibly months, and all signs indicated that the ICS and
police176 were unequipped to deal with the coming crisis. Auchinleck
proposed that areas adjoining the proposed independent states which
experienced violence after 15 August be designated ‘disturbed areas’.
Auchinleck further recommended that areas deemed disturbed were sub-
ject to the jurisdiction of a ‘Supreme Commander177 [who], acting on the

173
Mountbatten to Jenkins, 24 Jun. 1947, in Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 260–1.
174
Governor’s Appreciation, enclosure to no. 81, Note by Sir George Abell, TOP, XII, 81,
p. 120.
175
Intelligence Reports, No. 26, Jul. 1947, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
176
It was reported that the Punjab additional or auxiliary police by this time had several
thousand demobbed soldiers within their ranks. As the regular police became less and
less effective, the fact that auxiliary police had military skills ultimately contributed to the
carnage. See Mss Eur Photo Eur 436 Gerald Robert Savage, Punjab Police, OIOC, BL.
177
With the division of the Indian armed forces and independence, it was decided to
appoint Auchinleck the supreme commander of the armed forces, directly in charge of
the division of the forces and dealing with administrative aspects for the two new
Dominions. Each Dominion would have a speciﬁc CinC who would be in charge of

request of the Joint Defence Council, will specially appoint a BRITISH

Commander, with an adequate HQ, who will have MILITARY control
over the area and of such troops and air forces that are considered by him
to be necessary. These troops should be allotted, by the CinCs of the two
Dominions, at the request of the Joint Defence Council.’178

The Punjab Boundary Force

On 17 July 1947, the Partition Council met and discussed the
proposal from Field Marshal Auchinleck, who presented it
personally.179 After a series of questions and debates, the council decided
to approve the proposal using the following framework:
(1) Action to deal with violence in the disturbed areas should be on the
lines indicated by the CinC.
(2) Maj. Gen. Pete Rees,180 commander of the 4th Indian Division,
should be appointed as joint commander on the behalf of both
Dominions.
Rees would be given a remit to control troops operating in specific areas
of the Punjab, operating in a chain of command through the Joint
Defence Council and the supreme commander. Senior Muslim and Sikh
officers would serve as advisers on Rees’ staff, and troops would be in
defined zones no later than 8 August. No changes in the law governing
the use of troops in Aid to the Civil Power would be allowed after 15
August.181 With this decision, the Punjab Boundary Force was born.182

the operational responsibility of the new armies. See Chapter 6 for a much more
detailed discussion of the division and the creation of the Joint Defence Council and
the supreme commander position.
178
Auchinleck to Mountbatten, Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 102, p. 146.
179
Jinnah and Khan as well as senior representatives of the future Dominion of India were
present at the meeting. See Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM, for many letters from
soldiers, NCOs, VCOs, and ofﬁcers detailing the violence in Punjab throughout the
month of August. Some are reproduced in Tuker, Memory, ch. 34, pp. 430–52.
180
According to Mountbatten’s private secretary, Alan Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten
described Pete Rees as one of the ablest divisional commanders in the Burma campaign.
According to Campbell-Johnson, Nehru was also very impressed with Rees. See Alan
Campbell-Johnson, Mission with Mountbatten (London: Robert Hale Ltd, 1951), p. 175.
181
Meeting of the Partition Council, 17 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 148, pp. 206–11; also in
Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 294–6. Robin Jeffrey in ‘The Punjab Boundary Force and
the Problem of Order, August 1947’, Modern Asian Studies, 8, 4 (1974), p. 497, claims
that senior army commanders had not been consulted. The plan came from Auchinleck
and other senior army ofﬁcers who were in the council meeting.
182
For a complete breakdown of all the units and subunits within the PBF, see ‘Strength
and Composition of Boundary Force’, Constituent Assembly of India Debates (Legislature),
vol. I, 201–4, reproduced in Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 560–4.

Mountbatten, Auchinleck, Messervy, and Rees attended another meet-

ing on 20 July to discuss planning specifics for the PBF. It was decided
that selected districts (Amritsar, Ferozepore, Gujranwala, Gurdaspur,
Hoshiarpur, Jullundur, Lahore, Lyallpur, Montgomery, Sheikhupura,
and Sialkot) would have special military measures enacted in response
to present and anticipated levels of communal violence.183 The popula-
tion of these districts amounted to 14.5 million and the communal
breakdown was 55% Muslim, 25% Hindu, and 20% Sikh.184 All of these
communities ultimately became involved in communal violence.185
Imposition of martial law came up for discussion again at this meeting;
Messervy reiterated that there were insufficient troops to carry it out, and
recommended that the Punjab Disturbed Areas Act, Public Safety Act,
and the Governor-General’s Ordinance on Special Powers for the Armed
Forces, already in place, should be continued for the time being.186
Rees and the PBF would be responsible to the Dominion governments
through the supreme commander and the Joint Defence Council; the
troops were to take over in the named districts on 1 August.187
The PBF initially drew its units and formations from the 4th
Indian Division which, as noted previously, had arrived in the
Punjab at the end of May and early June, with violence in the area
already escalating. Divisional staff immediately identified the need
for a joint civil–military HQ, but the anticipated departure of British
ICS and police proved an obstacle to establishing one. They did
manage to organise weekly conferences to discuss the growing prob-
lems in the Punjab, at least until all British civilian staff were with-
drawn from the area around 4 August. British staff had failed to hand

183
This list of districts was later confirmed by Jenkins and ratified in a meeting of the
Partition Council on 22 July. See TOP, XII, 205, pp. 301–2, for more details. Ludhiana
was added on 24 July: see TOP, XII, 224, p. 326.
184 185
File 48, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, p. 17.
186
20 Jul. 1947, Mountbatten Papers, OIOC, BL. The basic points that were covered in
these ordinances highlighted how dire things were getting: ‘Government of India
empowers any officer, warrant officer, VCO, or NCO to act as follows: a. fire upon or
otherwise use force upon a person – contravening an order, prohibiting the assembly of
5 or more people, prohibiting the carrying of a weapon; b. to arrest without warrant any
person who has committed an offence or reasonable suspicion exists that he has
committed or about to – make an arrest, recover any person he believes is wrongly
restrained, recover any property he suspects to be stolen, recover any arms’ (Personal
Intelligence Punjab, 1 Jun. 1947, File 50, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL). These laws were
confirmed in a telegram from Jenkins to Mountbatten for all the districts of the Punjab
on 31 July 1947 (TOP, XII, 299, p. 440).
187
Minutes of Viceroy’s Twenty-First Misc. Meeting, 20 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 184, pp.
272–6. Despite numerous discussions, the decision was ultimately made not to establish
a similar organisation in Bengal. See minutes from relevant meetings, as well as the
section above focusing on violence in Eastern Command.

over their intelligence contacts within the community to their Indian

successors, which resulted in a communications and intelligence
breakdown.188
It was already clear to the senior command that there had been efforts
over the previous weeks to subvert the loyalty of the troops within the 4th
Indian Division, as well as within all units and formations serving in the
Punjab.189 Lord Mountbatten felt that the presence of British officers
with all units and subunits of the PBF190 would help to safeguard against
attempts at subversion, and restrain the troops from fighting one another
as a separate entity.191 The last intelligence report for the Indian Army,
submitted on 2 August, seems to validate this theory: ‘the integrity and
impartiality of the Indian troops [have] remained unchanged. The way in
which the civilian population has welcomed the Army wherever it has
gone has come as a pleasant surprise to the troops.’192 Reports from
several other units designated to serve with the PBF reported similar
sentiments as August 1947 dawned.193
Orders for the PBF directed Maj. Gen. Rees, along with two senior
Indian military advisers, one a Sikh and the other a Muslim,194 as
follows:
a. [That troops would] deal with the disturbances on or after 15th of
August in accordance with the guide lines as indicated by the C-in-C.
b. [That m]ilitary control would be exercised by Major General Rees.
c. That the zones of operations [would] be defined and approved by the
Partition Council.
d. That troops would be in position by 8 August.

188
See Tuker, Memory, pp. 441–2, as well as Bristow, Memories, p. 161.
189
In the end the following brigades and units were part of the PBF: 114th Brigade (4/10th
Baluch, 2/17th Dogras, 5/13th FFRifles), 14th (Para) Brigade (3/7th Rajputs, 1/2nd
Punjab, 3/10th Baluch), 43rd (Lorried) Brigade (2/7th Rajput, 1/10th Baluch, 2/8th
Gurkha Rifles, 3/3rd Queen Mary’s Own Gurkha Rifles, 18th Cavalry, 4/12th FFR), 5th
Brigade (1/4th Indian Grenadiers, 5th Rajputana Rifles, 1/9th Gurkha Rifles), 11th
Brigade (4th Kumaon, 3/12th FFR, 1st Sikh Light Infantry, 3rd Mahar). Other extra
battalions would serve on different detachments as well as the various regimental
centres that fell within the twelve districts. See File 53, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. No
British troops were to be used, as stated earlier, which did cause some issues for some
commanders. See Hamid, Disastrous, p. 209, as well as various letters in TOP, XII.
190
See Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 561–4.
191
Meeting of the Provisional Joint Defence Committee, 29 Jul. 1947, TOP, XII, 276, pp.
403–4.
192
Intelligence Reports, 2 Aug. 1947, L/MIL/17/5/4276, OIOC, BL.
193
1st Sikh Light Infantry, 2nd Quarterly Report, 31 Jul. 1947, WO 268/488, NA. This
report also includes an account of two sepoys deserting with their weapons. See also
4/12th Frontier Force Regiment, WO 268/180, NA.
194
Brig. Dhigambir Singh and Brig. Mohammad Ayub Khan.

e. That there should be no change in the law governing the use of troops
in the aid of the civil power after 15th August, for such a period as
these forces are employed.
f. That the troops would be drawn, as far as possible, equally from both
Dominions and [would] be units of mixed composition. It was real-
ised that the reconstruction may be delayed.
g. That the troops employed on these duties [would] be directly under
the Supreme Commander, who [would] be directed by the Joint
Defence Council.
h. [That] if any air support was required the AOC-in-C [would] decide
in consultation with General Rees.195
On 1 August, Gen. Rees gathered his senior commanders and other
officers. He said, in part,
We are going to [be] the last representatives of the old Indian Army. The honour
and integrity of the Indian Army of which we are so proud [are] at stake and in
our hands and you and I, officers, VCOs, and men, have got to ensure that we
uphold and maintain our tradition . . . We are a neutral force, operating in a
defined area, holding the scales of justice impartially under the direct orders of
the Supreme Commander, Field Marshal Auchinleck. We will continue to
operate after the 15th of August for as long as shall prove necessary to maintain
law and order and there is no question of units being ordered off to Pakistan or
India . . . [There is an] absolute necessity for law and order, and in carrying out of
our duties, if we come in conflict with people who defy law and order and use
violence, we will use force . . . I promise officers and men that provided they act in
all honesty of purpose I will back them up completely.196
The operational orders given to the troops on 1 August also highlighted
ongoing disputes with the Princely States, asserting that the PBF had the
right to pursue ‘insurgents’ who crossed into the Princely States.197
Maj. Peter Riches, Gen. Rees’ aide-de-camp, commented that the gen-
eral feeling at PBF HQ at the time was that, while they would do all they

195
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 205.
196
‘Special Order of the day, 1st August 1947’, File 59, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. The
acting commander of the 43rd Brigade, Lt Col Fergus Macartney, 2/8th Gurkha Riﬂes,
also noted an important aspect of the meeting and the potential pitfalls of the coming
month. He called for the restriction of Sikhs to be allowed only to carry ceremonial
kirpans (swords) and not the larger three-foot-long weapons. He was abruptly shouted
down by Brig. Dhigambir Singh in the meeting and asked to withdraw his ideas: Fergus
Macartney, Private Manuscript, Punjab Boundary Force; reproduced in Red Flash, No.
21, 1997, p. 6.
197
Operational Order, 1st Aug. 1947, File 69, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. There appears to
be some dispute about this: Copland writes that units were not allowed to chase jathas
back into the States (‘Master’, p. 690), while Jeffrey states that they could enter the
Princely States, noting that ‘where time permits the local political ofﬁcer should be
previously informed’ (‘The Punjab Boundary Force’, p. 505).

could, they expected no support from the British and Indian media, who
were of the opinion that ‘the PBF [couldn’t] win’.198 Auchinleck, how-
ever, had faith in Rees and the PBF; if he had any doubts about what the
PBF would be able to accomplish, he kept them to himself. He wrote to
Rees: ‘I have just read your PBF operational instructions and this is to tell
you I think it is excellent and I am sure that it will be of the greatest value
to your troops . . . I have . . . complete confidence in you and your troops,
and I am sure you will do the job as the [a]rmy has always done the job in
the past!’199
As stated above, the violence in the Punjab escalated as 15 August
approached.200 Swarna Aiyar stated that its peak occurred between the
13th and the 19th, coinciding with the announcement of the boundary
commission findings and independence.201 Many authors state that
much of this violence was well organised by Sikh leadership and former
Sikh soldiers, to avenge the loss of the Punjab and to enact revenge
attacks for the March attacks in the western Punjab.202 The units from
the PBF, spread throughout the province, began reporting problems with
intelligence gathering almost immediately. They recorded that ‘in late
July and early August it was exceedingly difficult to get information as to
the scale and type of trouble to expect . . . [I]t is very necessary for the
fighting services to be aware of the problems of the civil service.’203
Riches concurred that HQ believed that the Punjab Police were not
viable, and hence intelligence was drying up all around the districts. As
he put it, from 2 August, ‘the PBF was a reaction force – it could not
pre-empt many of the attacks’.204 It was quickly apparent that the PBF
was going to have a difficult time of it. One report described: ‘situation in
Amritsar, Jullundur and rural areas most unsatisfactory. Patrolling by the
PBF is being intensified and special measures taken to protect trains.’205

198
Author’s interview with Maj. Peter Riches, 3 May 2005. Hamid reinforces this
sentiment in his journal entry for 20 July: ‘I feel that the positioning of the Boundary
Force has come too late to exercise any effective control. General Rees is a very capable
Commander but this task is beyond him. Political factors will come into play and he will
be pressurized from all directions, and even maligned’ (Disastrous, p. 207).
199
Auchinleck to Rees, 14 Aug. 1947, File 73, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
200
See Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, ch. 7, pp. 128–42, for more background on the
violence in August.
201
Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, p. 17.
202
Ian Talbot speciﬁcally stated ‘whether or not there was an actual Sikh plan . . . Sikh
jathas led the attacks on Muslims that ethnically cleansed them from East Punjab. From
May onwards, there had been a widespread collection of funds . . . [and] import of
weapons’ (‘The 1947 Violence in the Punjab’, p. 9).
203
Report on Communal Violence, File 48, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
204
Author’s interview with Maj. Riches, 3 May 2005.
205
2 Aug. 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.

Nehru and other senior Indian political leaders, meanwhile, dismissed

the Punjab government as callous and incompetent. They accused magis-
trates and police of being inept and partial, and further claimed that the
police were actively involved with murder and arson. Governor Jenkins
wrote a scathing letter to Mountbatten on 4 August, focusing on these
accusations and the ongoing violence in the region. In response to
the Indian political leaders’ comments, he wrote ‘this criticism does not
come well from persons who have themselves shown gross partiality and
encouraged it in others . . . [T]hese critics themselves participate in the
events which they profess to deplore.’ His comment on the PBF was,
‘I think the soldiers know their business and are doing it very well.’206
Col John Perkin, commander of 4/10th Baluch, confirmed that the
PBF encountered problems with the police; at times, his men and
officers had difficulty gathering intelligence in a given area, due to the
complete collapse of the police.207 The deputy inspector general of the
Punjab Police in Jullundur district attempted to provide an explanation
for this: ‘Small police station staffs were swamped by events happening
all around them. Isolated constables found themselves faced with situ-
ations impossible to meet unlike the army who lived and worked in units
and were adequately officered [though not according to the General
Staff]. The policemen all too often were inevitably out on [their] own.’208
Rees called in his commanders on 4 August for a conference. He
advised his senior commanders to allow the junior commanders more
flexibility to respond to situations as quickly as possible, without waiting
for permission. He emphasised that officers must become familiar with
the area, but not get too close to the people. Officers must get to know
the leaders in the area, but keep the men away from such meetings. He
ended the meeting with these words: ‘the honour and reputation of the
Indian Army of which we are so proud [are] at stake’.209
On the same day that this conference took place, the first major escalation
in the level of violence occurred when a well-organised Sikh jatha sur-
rounded two Muslim villages, burned them to the ground, and killed all
the inhabitants. An officer who witnessed the violence described how:
‘women and children had their limbs hacked off and their breasts amputated
before being killed. Pregnant mothers were sliced open. Babies were left
impaled on upright spears dug into the ground. Burnt corpses littered the

206
4 Aug. 1947, Mss Eur D807, Sir Evan Jenkins Papers, OIOC, BL.
207
Author’s interview with Col. Perkin, 8 Jun. 2005.
208
Mss Eur F161/145, Indian Police, OIOC, BL, and see Bristow, Memories, pp. 15–153,
for more discussion on the issues regarding the police in Jullundur later in the month.
209
‘PBF Lahore Conference’, 4 Aug. 1947, File 53, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

narrow streets . . . [S]uch scenes were our daily sights combined with even
worse horrors as we were directed by brigade to follow up incidents.’210
In a letter dated 8 August, Jenkins wrote to Mountbatten that
intense communal violence had erupted at least once in nine of the
twelve districts of the Punjab. The initial reports stated that casualties
appeared to be at least 100 a day. Reporting by the police, however,
had fallen off due to transfers. Jenkins wrote that the ‘police in the East
Punjab are unsteady and Moslem policemen in Amritsar intend to
desert to West Punjab on the 15th August’.211 He also cited problems
with the PBF, chiefly insufficient numbers of soldiers. Jenkins urgently
called for more reinforcements,212 but the lack of available troops
was one of the unintended consequences of the demobilisation
process of the previous two years.213
At about this time, army officers in Lahore began to report that
Muslim police were actively engaged in communal violence against
Hindu- and Sikh-owned businesses and homes.214 One Indian officer
stated: ‘I would like to stress that I am quite convinced that the
police were deliberately organising the whole affair from start to
finish and had no intention whatsoever of taking any action towards
stopping it.’215
It was also at this time that various groups in the community accused
the PBF of showing ‘partiality’. The first questions were raised regarding
the loyalty of Sikh soldiers in the PBF and the viceroy’s bodyguard. Field
Marshal Auchinleck was specifically asked to have the intelligence branch
look into the issue.216 Hindu leaders in Lahore also accused Muslim
troops from the 5/13th Frontier Force Rifles of being biased, claiming

210
Maj. P. H. James, ‘Transfer of Sovereignty’, Royal Engineers Journal, 111, 2 (Aug.
1997), p. 118.
211
Ofﬁcial correspondence: Punjab, 8 Aug. 1947, Mountbatten Papers, OIOC, BL. See
also the various Mss Eur in the OIOC, from the Punjab Police, which describe some of
these issues in candid detail.
212
Ofﬁcial correspondence: Punjab, 8 Aug. 1947, Mountbatten Papers, OIOC, BL.
Auchinleck did not have any spare troops to send, and advised Jenkins of this on the
9th, although he told Maj. Gen. Rees that he would try his best to get some sort of
reinforcements. See Minutes of Viceroy’s Sixty-Ninth Staff Meeting, 9 Aug., 1947,
TOP, XII, 389, pp. 610–12, and Hamid, Disastrous, p. 223.
213
See Chapter 6 for more details.
214
See Ian Talbot, ‘A Tale of Two Cities: The Aftermath of Partition for Lahore and
Amritsar, 1947–1957’, Modern Asian Studies, 41, 1 (2007), pp. 151–85, for an in-depth
discussion of the levels of destruction within two of the main urban centres of the
Punjab.
215
Intelligence Report – Civil Disturbances Lahore by Lt Col Alluf Qadir, 13 Aug. 1947,
File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
216
Minutes of Viceroy’s Sixty Ninth Staff Meeting, 9 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 389, pp.
610–12.

that ‘the [military patrol] party returned uttering filthy abuses against
Hindus with a threat of setting the Hindus right [by using violence]
immediately’.217 These were contradicted by other reports that Hindu
and Sikh troops were performing extremely well against gangs of other
Hindus and Sikhs.218 In response to many allegations, Gen. Rees sent
out a personal letter to his brigade commanders, saying that ‘it is certain
that we will have a lot of exaggerated and even false stories about our
activities . . . [I]t is suitable for me to go on now and remind you all to tell
your junior leaders to make notes as notes are invaluable in any subse-
quent enquiries.’219
Reports of communal tensions developing within units were also
beginning to come in.220 Maj. Gen. D. C. Hawthorn contradicted some
of the comments; when discussing information reported to him by Rees,
he asserted that, ‘the troops are unaffected by the communal tension and
are carrying out all that is asked of them magnificently’.221 Auchinleck,
reading this assertion, presciently wrote in the margin, ‘[For] how long?
C.J.A.’222
The note from Hawthorn also touched, once again, upon the ongoing
problem of civil–military co-operation. It reiterated that ‘sources of infor-
mation [are] drying up’, and discussed an incident in Amritsar when a
Hindu superintendent of police disarmed the Muslim police.223 Brig.
Stewart, commander of one of the brigades, reported that ‘attacks on
villages are almost continuous . . . [They] occur all over the district,
which makes it difficult for anyone to anticipate their intentions in view
of the size of the district . . . [T]roops are very thin on the ground and in
many cases no communications exist . . . [A]ll battalions are going flat out
with patrols, ambushes and sweeps, no effort is being spared to get at
these gangs.’224 Even Sir Percival Griffiths, in his book, To Guard My

217
Letter from Hindu Leaders, Lahore, to Rees, 9 Aug. 1947, File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC,
BL.
218
See Rees Personal Logs, 10 Aug. 1947, File 68, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
219
Rees to his brigade commanders, 9 Aug. 1947, File 58, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
220
On 11 August, Muslim members of the 4/12th Frontier Force Regiment accused non-
Muslim troops of firing indiscriminately and unjustifiably on Muslim civilians. See 30
Sep. 1947, WO 268/180, NA. The 2/2nd Punjab Regiment report listed that many men
were concerned about the findings of the Boundary Commission. See Oct. 1947, WO
268/457, NA.
221
11 Aug. 1947, R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL; also in Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 331–4, and
Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 466–7.
222
11 Aug. 1947, R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL; also in Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 331–4, and
Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 466–7.
223
See Rees Personal Logs, 10 Aug. 1947, File 68, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. See also
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 12 Aug. 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
224
Misc. drafts and reports, 10 Aug. 1947, File 51, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

People: History of the Indian Police, hinted at this fundamental issue:

‘Mountbatten rightly observed at a later date that there had been a
general rundown of the administration and for a time the intelligence
organisation of the police did fall below its previous well-known
competence.’225
Governor Jenkins also emphasised concerns about the police in a
report to the Government of India. He wrote that ‘police in Lahore and
Amritsar are now unreliable. There was serious indiscipline at the
recruiting training centre . . . I am still waiting for news of the state of
the rural police stations . . . some of which are said to have stopped
functioning . . . [W]e have no strength of troops and police required to
restore order.’226 Jenkins reported to Mountbatten on 12 August that the
PBF and the commander had too great a task to deal with, pointing out
that the PBF was required to cover some 17,000 villages and towns and
reiterating that he would have needed two full divisions to carry out this
mission effectively. The PBF was not at full strength and, with training
centres added, numbered just over 9,000 effectives.227
Other reports from this period described gun battles between police
and army troops on 12 and 13 August.228 The district commissioner for
Amritsar and Lahore commented that ‘the public started to distrust the
police and later the troops’.229 The 5th Brigade reported a major clash
between an armed group of 100 villagers and a patrol. It claimed that the
patrol came under ‘ﬁre from a dozen [Muslim] police in company with a
mob . . . [T]he police were attempting to obtain [the] weapons with
which we were armed and [the] ambush was expressly aimed as an attack
on the army.’230
Issues with the police were not linked to any one area or communal
group; units of the PBF reported ‘partiality’ within the police force
throughout the month of August. Reports came from both Amritsar
and Lahore of ‘many complaints regarding the ineffectiveness and parti-
ality of the police’.231

225
Sir Percival Griffiths, To Guard My People: History of the Indian Police (London: Benn,
1971). Brig. Bristow concurred: ‘The Indian Police had a fine record, but, after sudden
reconstitution in the atmosphere of a communal war, they lost all sense of impartial
duty’ (Memories, p. 202).
226
Punjab Government to Government of India, 12 Aug. 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
227
Jenkins to Mountbatten, 12 Aug. 1947, R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL; also in Kirpal Singh, ed.,
Partition of the Punjab, pp. 472–3.
228
Punjab Government to Government of India, 13 Aug. 1947, L/WS/1/1010, OIOC, BL.
229
Mss Eur F409, George Brander, ICS, OIOC, BL.
230
Communal Subjects, 12 Aug. 1947, File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. See also Hamid’s
entry for 13 August, in Disastrous, pp. 224–7.
231
See Official Logs, 14–19 Aug. 1947, Files 54 and 62, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

It was also during the run-up to independence that attacks on trains

between the two future states began to increase, with specific railway
stations targeted as well. Attacks against both trains and stations
increased throughout the month and only began to abate in late Septem-
ber.232 As one British officer observed in the aftermath of an attack on
a refugee train: ‘I do not think I have ever witnessed such cold-
bloodedness by any human beings as I witnessed last night . . . In every
carriage without exception the dead and dying were mixed up with the
wounded – it was certainly a train of death.’233
The situation reached crisis point on the eve of independence. Jenkins,
in one of his last letters, wrote to Rees on 14 August: ‘before I leave
I must thank you and the 4th Indian Division and PBF for all the help
you have given us during this difficult time. Troops can seldom have had
a more arduous and unpleasant task as the aid to the civil power . . .
[H]ow deeply we are in your debt, and what confidence we have had in
your troops and in yourself.’234 It was also on this day that Rees reported
a drop in efficiency with some of his units and formations, due to the loss
of British officers and shortage overall of veteran commanders.235 As the
new independent states of India and Pakistan were created on the 15th,
Auchinleck submitted a report on the conditions in the Punjab for the
Joint Defence Council. He described many of the problems presented
here and added further comments regarding the PBF:
two more brigades . . . are being sent to reinforce the PBF but no amount of
troops can stop the indiscriminate butchery that appears to be going on on both
sides . . . General Rees and his brigade commanders are doing all they can and so
the troops have been completely impartial and extremely well disciplined, in spite
of baseless and mischievous stories to the contrary which are being printed, in
some cases by people in responsible positions. Such stories do possible harm
and may result in the troops ceasing to be impartial, in which event, the situation,
bad as it is now, would become truly horrible.236
Mountbatten summarised his thoughts on the situation in the Punjab on
16 August in a long internal report. He discussed the issues with police
becoming sectarian and refusing to protect peoples who were not of their

232
See Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, pp. 18–24, especially the vivid account of a train leaving Pakistan
for India on pp. 20–1, as well as ‘Report on the PBF’, L/MIL/17/5/4319, OIOC, BL, for
more details.
233
Tuker, Memory, pp. 481 and 484. The ofﬁcer speciﬁcally compared the attacks to the
Nazis in the Second World War and actually stated they were worse than the Nazis.
234
Misc. drafts and reports, 14 Aug. 1947, File 51, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. Sir Evan
Jenkins appeared to contradict himself later in October 1947, for reasons that are
unclear.
235
Lahore Conference meeting, 14 Aug. 1947, File 51, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
236
Note by Auchinleck, 15 Aug. 1947, R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL.

religion. He claimed that, if it had not been for the PBF, the violence in
Amritsar would have been a holocaust in the making. He specifically
called for various senior political leaders of both Dominions to meet with
Rees and create a working plan to deal with the rising violence. He
asserted, ‘It is quite clear and we all agreed, that the soldiers are doing
everything that is humanly possible to try and hold the situation, and
although it was decided, among other things to reinforce the Boundary
Force by two more brigades . . . the situation is long past mere military
action and requires political leadership of the highest order.’237
After the 15th, things did indeed get worse.238 By the end of the
month, there were accusations of troops firing upon one another,
although actual reports are limited to a few small incidents. As one officer
responded: ‘due to the atrocities committed here, and I don’t think there
can be any worse in history, it is quite natural that the troops in the PBF
should get affected. To a very small extent they have been, but the
incidents in this respect are negligible. Unfortunately they have been
exaggerated and given big publicity, which tends to make matters
worse.’239 The Joint Defence Council met on 16 August to discuss the
security situation; Auchinleck stressed the need to keep the PBF in place,
and reiterated that ‘troops have so far been impartial and well disciplined,
despite stories to the contrary’.240
On 16 August, Mountbatten made the findings of the Punjab Bound-
ary Commission public to the political leaders of Pakistan and India, and
on 17 August to the populations of both countries.241 Independence
brought still more bloodletting as Sikhs, Hindus, and Muslims set out
to destroy one another. In the months following independence, some
13 million people set out to cross the newly established borders in both
directions – an undertaking that would tax the PBF to the breaking point.
Mountbatten also wrote a personal report on the 16th, documenting
the previous fifteen days and setting out what he thought was needed in
the coming months. He wrote:
rumours [about] the decision of the Boundary Commission in the Punjab had
been sufficient to start large scale rioting which would undoubtedly have been a

237
Viceroy’s Personal Report, No. 17, 16 Aug. 1947, TOP, XII, 489, p. 763; also in
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report, pp. 280–1.
238
See Rees Papers (OIOC, BL) for speciﬁc situation reports (SITREPS) from the 15th
until the end of the month. The SITREPS are also reproduced in Kirpal Singh, ed.,
Partition of the Punjab, pp. 514–17.
239
Tuker, Memory, p. 435.
240
‘Informal Minutes of the Joint Defence Council Meeting, 16 August 1947’, reproduced
in Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 489–94.
241
See Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 234–5.

communal war on a big scale if it had not been for the joint Punjab Boundary Force
. . . In Amritsar . . . but for the presence of the PBF there would now be a complete
holocaust in the city. Local Muslim leaders are trying to persuade the Muslim
soldiers to follow the example of the police [to become communal] but so far
without apparent success . . . It is quite clear that the soldiers are doing everything
that is humanly possible to try and hold the situation . . . [T]he situation is long past
mere military action and requires political leadership of a high order.242

Military commanders held politicians on both sides largely responsible

for the communal violence.243 Gen. Rees reinforced this view:
It is good, and encouraging to all PBF officers and men, and to me personally, to
know that we have your confidence and your backing. I will do all that lies in my
power to see that we carry out our task as you would wish us to . . . The hard truth is
that without the neutral Indian Army the slaughter and terror would have been
desperate and completely out of control . . . [W]e are having heavy communal
propaganda levelled at our officers and men . . . but I am combating it through the
ICOs, Subedars and VCOs and they and the men realise and agree that unlimited
bloodshed and terror would have been reigning in the central Punjab today . . . if
they were not standing firm and rock like as the IA always [is] when called upon.244
Field Marshal Auchinleck forwarded the above letter to Lord Mount-
batten with the additional comment that ‘I am sure that Rees is right and
that any attempt to replace the PBF by dominion controlled forces
forbidden to cross the common boundary would be likely to end in
disaster and possibly an open clash. This is my opinion which is shared
by Arthur Smith and [Lt Gen.] Lockhart.’245
Despite such confident reports, it was clear that some army personnel
were beginning to falter. An interesting observation came from a British
officer serving in a training battalion in Lahore. He noted that after 15
August the Muslim soldiers, who had been apolitical and non-communal
before independence, became fanatically nationalistic about Pakistan.
They viewed all non-Muslims as suspect. He saw that the Hindu and Sikh
soldiers became very apprehensive about this, and the non-Muslim troops

242
Viceroy’s Personal Report No. 17, 16 Aug. 1947, L/PO/6/123, OIOC, BL; also in
Carter, ed., Mountbatten’s Report.
243
Gen. Savory’s comment on this situation was: ‘Sad to see the approaching end of an
Empire. Sad not so much because of our departure but because of what we are leaving
behind us which looks like bloodshed and anarchy now raging in the Punjab and
elsewhere . . . The end of Nehru’s Government which will be remembered for
wrecking the law and order which the British had tried their level best to bring about
in the subcontinent’ (quoted in Hamid, Disastrous, p. 231).
244
17 Aug. 1947, File 73, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL; also in No. 1247, Auchinleck Papers,
University of Manchester.
245
Auchinleck to Mountbatten, 20 Aug. 1947, R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL; also in Kirpal Singh,
ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 496–7.

transferred to India within days.246 Another issue arose after the 15th:
reports circulated inside the army of a company from the Sikh Light
Infantry firing upon a company of Muslim troops from the 8th Punjab
Regiment. As one senior officer noted: ‘This was the real start of the break-
down of the army. It was hushed up as much as possible, but rumour
magnified the event even more.’247 Brig. Bristow described another inci-
dent in Jullundur, involving Jat soldiers from the Punjab who refused to
stop Sikh jathas from killing and burning Muslims and their homes. The
VCO conveyed to the brigadier that ‘the Raj had ended, and the conflict
should be left to them to settle in their own way’.248
On 19 August, reports249 came in describing the killing, in Amritsar, of
two British officers250 from the 33rd King George V’s Own Bengal Sappers
and Miners. The commanding officer described how the officers had been
fired upon at a post where both military and policemen were present. The
commanding officer went to retrieve the bodies and confront the com-
mander, and described the situation and its effect upon the squadron:
I went with the standby troop directly to the area, ready to demolish the rogue
post, but was met by a company commander, a British officer, who begged me to
let him sort out the situation . . . The troops in the post were probably from his
battalion, of the Rajputana Rifles I believe. Any attack on the post would involve
open warfare between a largely Hindu company and our Muslim squadron. Some
soldiers in the city had become unreliable and unstable, a rare event even in those
difficult days . . . It was difficult to prevent NCOs and sappers breaking out that
night, particularly our Pathans who could not forgive the unprovoked slaughter of
their officers any more than our officers and VCOs would accept the situation.251

Rees went and spoke with the squadron the next morning, and stated that
an investigation would commence as soon as possible. Members of the
Rajputana Rifles reported that they had been fired upon first. It was never
clear who was in charge of the police or troops at the post.252 In the end,

246
Mss Eur C416 Col Peter Green, Indian Army, OIOC, BL.
247
There is another description of the 2/8th Gurkhas chasing down a jeep that was known
for shooting into crowds at railway stations. The occupants were reputed to be Sikh
soldiers. The jeep was captured with the Deputy Assistant Quarter Master General of
the 14th Para Brigade and a couple of other Sikh soldiers: Macartney, CO 2/8th
Gurkhas, PBF, in Red Flash, No. 21, 1997, p. 8.
248
Bristow, Memories, pp. 152–3.
249
Hamid notes this in his journal; see Disastrous, p. 237.
250
Capt. Nick Powell and Lt Bill Image.
251
James, ‘Transfer of Sovereignty’, pp. 118–19.
252
PBF Rough Conference Notes, 20 Aug. 1947, File 56, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. There
is no evidence of any board of inquiry taking place. The only fallout appears to be a
point raised on 3 September, by Gen. Rees, that the CO of the 5/6th Rajputana Riﬂes
needed to be replaced as soon as possible. See ‘Notes for 4th Indian Division’, 3 Sep.
1947, File 74, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

the members of the 33rd Squadron retained their composure and their
discipline. Brig. D. A. Barker-Wyatt noted that ‘it was surprising after the
squadron’s experiences in Amritsar, where they had seen so many people
of their own religion massacred, but their discipline and loyalty
prevailed.’253
The pressures upon senior ofﬁcers began to be unbearable. The briga-
dier in charge of the 11th Indian Brigade sent a note to Gen. Rees on the
20th. He wrote: ‘I have to request that I be replaced by another ofﬁcer in
my present appointment . . . [I]n the last four days there have been two
massacres of defenceless Muslims which could have been prevented if
I had the co-operation of the civil authorities. I now feel that I can not
conscientiously continue to work under these circumstances.’254
Accusations continued on both sides. The magistrate of a sub-area in
Sialkot accused the PBF: ‘troops at present employed in Sialkot city are
working against the interest of Muslims in that they are arresting
Muslims from inside their homes and bringing them in as curfew
breakers’. (Ironically, the battalion in question was commanded by a
Muslim.) The commander defended his unit with these words: ‘the
Boundary force is impartially working to restore order. We are here to
maintain law and order irrespective of communal spirits.’255
Nor was this the only issue between the army and civil authorities.
Rees received word that the CO of the 1/12th Frontier Force Regiment
had threatened to arrest and lock up the local magistrate for his apparent
‘partiality’.256 Concerns about the availability of weapons also continued.
The 43rd Lorried Brigade reported that 80 per cent of the Muslim police

253
Author’s interview with Brig. D. A. Barker-Wyatt, 10 Sep. 2005. He privately published
his experiences as a six-page article, ‘Partition of India 1947: The Memoirs and
Experiences of a Sapper Subaltern with the 2nd Indian Airborne Division’. He goes
into some detail of the squadron carrying out difficult tasks as Sikhs, Hindus, and
Muslims worked well together. He reported in the interview that the 4 (Bengal) Field
Company was Pakistan-bound. The company was stopped on the Indian side of the
border and ordered to give up their weapons and their equipment. A major fight almost
ensued; it was ended only with the intervention of Lt Col M. C. A. Henniker and a
meeting with the Indian Army officer involved. The men were allowed to proceed into
Pakistan.
254
20 Aug. 1947, File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. Messervy made a telephone call on 22
August 1947 to the Deputy Chief of the General Staff, stating ‘one Brigade commander
and one Regimental Centre Commander [have] said that they were unwilling to
continue to serve in the present conditions, because the orders they were receiving
from the Civil [Service] appeared to be meant to increase the troubles and massacres
rather than stop them. There must be something very wrong with the attitude of the
Civil [Service] when British officers took this line’ (Cat. No. R/3/1/171, OIOC, BL; also
in Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 358–9).
255
20 Aug. 1947, File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
256
See 20 Aug. 1947, File 71, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

in the Ferozepore district had gone, and that their weapons were not
adequately guarded.257
Yet another issue arose on 21 August, this time with the 1/2nd Punjab
Regiment.258 The battalion, composed mostly of Dogras and Jat Sikhs,
was stationed in Montgomery in Pakistan, and reports came in that both
the Muslim police and civilians were attempting to antagonise the Hindu
and Sikh troops. The commanding ofﬁcer, Lt Col Gurbachan Singh, a
Sikh, asked that his non-Muslim troops be moved as soon as possible.259
The governor of the now-divided Punjab region (West Punjab), Sir
Francis Mudie, wrote to Gen. Rees concerning Lt Col Singh. He called
for Singh to be relieved of command, saying that ‘Muslim League leaders
say that they cannot go out to the villages to keep the Muslims in order
for fear of being shot by Sikh soldiers. I cannot say that this fear is
justiﬁed . . . I do not know if Singh is normally communal, but there is
no doubt about his being at present in an extreme state of communal
excitement which makes his presence in Montgomery and other districts
in command of Sikh troops extremely dangerous to the public.’260
At the same time that this report was generated, Savory received a
letter highlighting a different point of view regarding Muslim–Sikh rela-
tions. The letter, from Lt Col Mahammed Siddeq, MC, 7/11th Sikhs,
stated, in part: ‘I belong to West Punjab and being a Muslim have no
choice but to serve in Pakistan. I am a most disappointed person today.
The Indian Army is systematically being destroyed . . . to satisfy the
politicians . . . I love my Sikhs.’261
PBF units attempted to intercept the armed mobs before they caused
damage to defenceless villages or sections of cities throughout the
Punjab. As Maj. P. H. James noted: ‘Occasionally we arrived in time to
save a village and to disperse or destroy some of the attackers, but often
we only knew of the event when we observed smoke from burning homes
some miles away.’262 Col Fergus Macartney noted that at times he was
successful in quelling violence, such as when his battalion was sent into
the Railway Station area of Lahore. He reported: ‘Our really hard work
then started – continuous patrolling day and night both on foot and in
motor transport. I’m glad to say I got my area under control quickly, and

257
Aug. 1947, File 23, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
258
A number of sources have cited this battalion as a ‘problem’ unit. See Jeffrey, ‘The
Punjab Boundary Force’, p. 510; Macartney, in Red Flash, No. 21, 1997, p. 9; and Rees
Papers, OIOC, BL.
259
21 Aug. 1947, File 54, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
260
23 Aug. 1947, File 51, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
261
27 Aug. 1947, Savory Papers, NAM.
262
James, ‘Transfer of Sovereignty’, p. 118.

in fact we opened ﬁre twice, each time on gangs of Muslim hooligans

killing a stray Hindu.’263 Brig. R. C. B. Bristow, commander of the
Dogra Regimental Centre in Jullundur and then the 11th Indian Brigade,
noted a short but brisk engagement:
I was returning to the Cantonment . . . when suddenly out of the left I spotted a
large Jatha advancing on the City [Jullundur] . . . [T]he Muslims were then
concentrated in certain areas . . . only lightly guarded through lack of troops . . .
I was being followed by a jeep of the Brigade Defence Platoon with three Gurkhas
and a Bren gun . . . ordering the Gurkhas into action . . . [A]fter an ominous pause
a few Sikhs with firearms emerged, and began to skirmish towards us with all the
skill of trained soldiers . . . [T]he Gurkhas responded to each rush with a
determined burst of fire, and soon brought the attack to a halt . . . [T]hat
incident showed that large armed Jathas could be dispersed by a few resolute
soldiers, who were prepared to fire.264

The commandant of the 14th Punjab Regimental Centre summed up his

views succinctly:
no one was prepared for the wave of communal feeling that surged amongst the
population . . . [I]t must however be placed on record the steadfast loyalty of all
ranks in the regiment . . . [A]ll ranks carried out their duties often in the most
trying circumstances to the best of their abilities and without any complaints . . .
[T]he centre provided a mobile column for the policing of Ferozorpore after the
civil police ceased to exist.265
Near the end of August, commanders reported tensions among the
different companies of one battalion of the 10th Baluch Regiment. One
dispute came to a head, with the Dogra company and Punjabi Musalman
company nearly coming to blows. The news reached Auchinleck, who
called for the removal of the Dogra company to India.266 Lt Gen. Tuker
referred to this in his journal for 28 August, noting that ‘the Punjab
Boundary Force is now going communal. That is no wonder. At Delhi
they want my 5th Division to come up and replace the now tired 4th
Division. I have said that I do not recommend it as 5th should crack up
sooner than the PBF since the 5th have been at this civil disturbance
business for a year with hardly a pause.’267

263 264
Macartney, in Red Flash, No. 21, 1997, p. 7. Bristow, Memories, p. 167.
265
Cotton, 8002–68, NAM.
266
See PBF Combined Log 25 and 27 Aug. 1947, File 62, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. See
also ‘Secret Report on the Punjab Disturbances’, p. 16, Box 71/21/10/4, Tuker Papers,
IWM: ‘the ofﬁcer in charge [of Baluch troops] is under close arrest pending a court
martial, troops have been conﬁned to barracks and the CO has been suspended’.
267
Tuker, Memory, pp. 399–400. Tuker went on to say, ‘Punjab Police completely
communal now. I replied that there was only one way of getting permanent peace in
the Punjab and that was to concentrate all Gurkha battalions up there and Madrassis

The Punjab Police Special Branch was reporting that neither the
police nor the army was up for the challenge. One report, on 30 August
1947, stated that ‘the situation in Montgomery district deteriorated
considerably, the Dogra and Sikh troops operating in the district
having been responsible for it to some extent’.268 While a secret report
filed in September 1947 confirmed the Baluch accusation, it contra-
dicted several points made by some observers in the Punjab, as well as
Lt Gen. Tuker’s comments. It explicitly stated that there were no
incidents in East Punjab of any troops being involved in violence,
and went on to state that some companies from the Baluch battalion
in question in West Punjab appeared to have attacked non-Muslim
refugees. It stated that the CO was under arrest and the troops were
confined to barracks, and declared that ‘this is the only case of the
Army taking a communal turn’.269
Reports from this period describe a variety of situations involving the
army. Lt Col R. N. P. Reynolds, from the 2/9th Gurkhas, reported on
movement of 5,000 Muslim civilians from East Punjab to the border with
Pakistan, under the protection of a company from the Mahar Regiment
commanded by a Hindu major. Reynolds noted that Hindu police in the
area were communal, and recounted how, as the column of civilians
came to the border area: ‘I asked at the police station if [five dead Muslim
civilians] could be removed, I was informed it was not in their area, and
they didn’t seem to be interested. The police station was on other side of
the road.’270
As noted previously, most members of the Punjab Police, Muslims and
Sikhs included, could be communally focused. As a senior British officer,
then still serving in the Punjab Police, noted, ‘it would be quite wrong to
say that the Punjab Police were free of communalism . . . [I]t could hardly
be expected of them to maintain an entirely impartial attitude when
members of their own religion were involved.’271 The Royal Garhwal
Rifles was also commended for its professionalism when dealing with
escorting Muslim refugees to Pakistan, as well as for its impartiality in
dealing harshly with Sikhs who wished to attack the refugees.272
When the Joint Defence Council (JDC) met on 25 August, members
called for the end of the PBF and final division of the units to

and other reliable people and all guns and tanks and knock the Sikhs clean out of the
ring. Put the area under martial law with a military governor and deal with it.’
268
Zafar, ed., Disturbances, pp. 368–9; also NDC Accession No. S. 415.
269
‘Secret Report on Punjab Disturbances’, Box 71/21/10/4, Tuker Papers, IWM.
270
Mss Eur D917 Lt Col R. N. P. Reynolds, OIOC, BL.
271
Mss Eur F161/145 India Police, ‘Punjab Police (Gamsford)’, Aug. 1947, OIOC, BL.
272
Box 71/21/10/4, Tuker Papers, IWM.

assignment in Pakistan and India.273 At the same time that the JDC
was calling for an end to the PBF, the 5th Indian Brigade accused
Sardar Baldev Singh, the defence minister, of providing weapons to
Sikhs in the fighting.274 On the same day, a Times correspondent
openly accused Hindu and Sikh soldiers of standing by while violence
was perpetrated against Muslims.275 The Hindustan Times took its cue
from the London Times and printed an article on the 27th, claiming
that British officers of the PBF and British ICS had not risen to the
occasion, but had allowed the atrocities to go on.276
In spite of all this, many still believed that the PBF had carried out its
duties to the best of its ability, and that it remained a viable force. Gen.
Savory wrote to his wife that ‘Things in the Punjab are very bad, with Sikhs
going quite mad . . . [T]he troops have been quite remarkable, however,
one does wonder how much longer will they be able to stand the commu-
nal strain . . . [T]he partitioning of the Indian Army is going with
great speed. The poor old Indian Army. It is too sad . . . British officers
can do nothing except to try to keep the two Dominion armies stable and
stop them from becoming violently communal.’277 Other officers felt that
the situation was much more tenuous.278 By the end of August 1947, the
PBF had suffered twelve killed and thirty-two wounded.279

273
Gen. Rees wrote rough notes stating that the force should be disbanded in light of
tensions rising to a near-explosive point. See Jeffrey, ‘The Punjab Boundary Force’,
p. 515. However, other historians claim that during the meeting he defended the PBF,
which is consistent with his actions during this period. Rees may have agreed to disband
the force, but he wanted the decision to be made by Auchinleck and himself, not by the
politicians, whom he blamed for the communal violence.
274
25 Aug. 1947, File 61, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
275
See article in The Times, ‘Massacres in the Punjab – Muslims butchered by armed mobs
of Sikhs’, 25 Aug. 1947. As noted by Mountbatten’s private secretary Campbell-
Johnson on 27 August 1947: ‘Pete Rees received very few thanks from either side for
his efforts to carry out a task of unparalleled difﬁculty. Without the wholehearted
backing of the Governments and the Press on both sides, the positions of the PBF
and its commander became rapidly untenable, and otherwise steady and experienced
troops began to feel the tug of communal loyalties deeper even than their military
discipline’ (Mission, p. 176).
276
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 239. Campbell-Johnson, Mission, also stated that on the 27th
Mountbatten was being persuaded that there was a need to disband the PBF; however,
he was clear about its performance: ‘the PBF was undoubtedly the best military answer
to the problem, he was ready to concede that in this instance psychological reasons
might outweigh purely military ones’ (p. 174).
277
27 Aug. 1947, 7603-93-80, Savory Papers, NAM.
278
‘Trouble started in the mixed regiments of the 43 Bde, 1/Baluch and 1/2 Punjab. They
became close to being non-effective, particularly the 1/2 Punjab with its Sikh CO. They
had to be removed from the Brigade and broken up.’ This refers to the ofﬁcer discussed
previously who was causing problems on the 21st: Macartney, in Red Flash, No. 21,
1997, p. 9.
279
Misc Correspondence, ‘Casualties’, Oct. 1947, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.

Did the army lose cohesion and become communal?

The decision to disband the PBF was taken overnight on 1/2 Septem-
ber.280 Gen. Rees issued a memo to his troops on 31 August, ordering
units to release companies and squadrons to either Pakistan or India,
based upon their communal background. Rees stated, ‘there was a good
measure of confidence that the PBF would be adequate to deal with any
situation likely to arise. Its units had no trace of communal feeling and all
over India expressions of goodwill were received . . . [I]n the event the
ingrained mutual trust of generations dissipated exceedingly rapidly.’281
Others had a more nuanced response to what was happening. One
British officer noted that ‘Due to the atrocities committed here and
I don’t think there can be any worse in history, it is quite natural that
the troops in the PBF should get affected to any small extent they have
been but the incidents in this respect are negligible. Unfortunately they
have been exaggerated.’282
The ‘newer’ regiments, the Mahar and Bihar, generally performed well
during the disturbances. Their ranks had not been recruited from the
Punjab, which meant they were less likely to be pulled by conflicting
loyalties. As Brig. Bristow noted: ‘those living at a distance from and
unaffected by the new border [were] more prepared to do their duty,
especially men of low caste like the Mahars, who were not fanatical about
religion’. He also recorded that ‘it [the Mahar regiment] did splendid
work [with a Sikh as the commanding officer] . . . [A]s a [single] class
only unit recently recruited they were anxious to prove themselves good
soldiers by doing their duty and succeeded, for Muslims acclaimed them
as their saviours.’283 Another British officer from the Gurkha Rifles

280
The Joint Defence Council meeting held on 29 August 1947 decided to end the role of
the PBF. For specifics, see Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, pp. 503–8. On 1
September, after an outbreak of violence, witnesses at Ambala Cantonment Station
accused soldiers, predominantly Sikh, of not doing enough for dying and wounded
Muslims who arrived on a train. The soldiers plus one officer were put under arrest by
the lieutenant colonel of the 2/1st Gurkha Rifles, who happened to be travelling
through: Tuker, Memory, pp. 436–7. The one key issue that is not discussed in any
great detail is that some reported examples of troops behaving inappropriately could
possibly have been Indian State Forces, taken by the media and politicians as regular
Indian Army forces. There is nothing but overwhelming evidence demonstrating that
many of the Indian State Forces actively took part in the violence and at times
specifically sought to kill Indian Army pensioners and families of active duty soldiers,
NCOs, VCOs, and officers.
281
‘Draft Report’, File 62, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
282
‘Notes from a British Officer in the PBF’, 29 Aug. 1947, Box 71/21/10/4, Tuker Papers,
IWM.
283
Bristow, Memories, p. 176, and Tuker, Memory, pp. 446 and 449.

discussed the issue of Punjabi recruited regiments in more detail,

recalling
. . . [m]ixed composition patrols when British officers had done very well. There
had been no incidents between troops though tension was definitely growing but
complaints were dealt with and disciplinary action taken if necessary. This I feel
was entirely due to the few remaining British officers who moved freely amongst
all troops. Muslim officers worked flat out to protect their own community and
they were kept in hand by British officers. Hindu and Sikh officers had to be
persuaded in most cases to do their duty . . . as will be appreciated the most
effective troops were non-Muslim or non-Punjabi Hindu. The Christian and
Mahar troops stood very high in my estimation as they were impartial and
worked extremely hard . . . Hindu and Sikh performance was entirely down to
the British officer.284

Such comments have prompted both contemporary and retrospective

observers to ask: why did the army not deploy troops in the Punjab that
had been recruited from elsewhere? There are several reasons, but the
most important is that there were simply not enough troops available from
other areas of the country to carry out the task of policing the Punjab. The
Indian Army had traditionally targeted the Punjab for recruitment, and
Second World War recruitment had followed this tradition.285 Alternative
solutions, such as requests to deploy British Army and Gurkha units along
the new border, were often stymied by political considerations; for
example, Nehru’s objections prevented deployment of British troops.
(The Gurkhas did deploy several battalions, and these performed well.)
It should also be noted that Punjabi-recruited regiments generally func-
tioned well as Aid to the Civil Power outside the Punjab.286 The future
president of Pakistan, Mohammad Ayub Khan, who served as a brigadier
on Maj. Gen. Rees’ staff, stated openly:
there was severe criticism of the Boundary Force and I also came in for a deal of
blame . . . [T]he Boundary Force was doomed to failure from the beginning . . .
[T]his was the unhappiest period of my life. I had never before seen anything so
terrible and brutal. Women and children were mutilated and innocent people
butchered mercilessly. All human qualities seemed to have been snuffed out
and the whole ediﬁce of culture and civilization crumbled during these terrible
weeks . . . I used to ask myself, ‘what can be done to stop this madness?’287

284
‘Letter from a Gurkha Riﬂes Ofﬁcer’, Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM.
285
See Talbot, Punjab and the Raj, for more background in the role of the Punjab within the
British Indian Empire. See Omissi, The Sepoy and the Raj, Marston, Phoenix, and Peers,
‘Martial Races’, for more discussion of the recruitment practices in the Punjab region.
286
See Chapter 5, dealing with the Indian Army in Eastern Command.
287
Mohammad Ayub Khan, Friends Not Masters: A Political Autobiography (Oxford
University Press, 1967), pp. 15–17.

Nehru, the newly created prime minister of India, sent Rees a letter on 3
September, discussing the ongoing situation but mentioning the military
only in passing:288
I have visited the Punjab on three occasions during the last 16 days and I have
visited many of the districts and had long chats with the district ofﬁcials and
military commanders there . . . In the East Punjab the chief trouble has been due
to the organised Sikh Jathas functioning often with the connivance of the police,
the petty local authorities and sometimes even some soldiers. In the West Punjab
there have been no such Jathas but Muslim gangs have functioned in the same
way in many places aided by the police and local authority . . . I think the
intelligence system has been rather weak in the past and the PBF as it was too
thinly spread out over all this area to keep full control over the situation.289
The Civil and Military Gazette wrote on 7 September that ‘The Indian
Army has always been regarded as a disciplined force by the bulk of the
population. There have been no complaints of lack of discipline, nor has
there been any instance of troops having been participating in looting.
There have been several instances of partiality and communal bias.
There have been reckless shootings and their co-operation with the civil
authority has been lacking.’290 Field Marshal Auchinleck wrote a positive
assessment of the situation to Gen. Rees on 13 September; he congratu-
lated him on his excellent work and stressed that, while the PBF would
have been suitable for normal Aid to the Civil Power duties, the situation
in August was on a completely different scale. No one had anticipated
what had occurred, and Auchinleck pointedly commented on the
collapse of civil administration and police, which had forced a burden
upon the PBF beyond their capabilities.291 Governor Jenkins offered a
different opinion in a meeting back in the UK on 14 October 1947: ‘He
put the tragedy down to the failure of the Indian Army in the Border
Force to take action against their own community.’292 Why he made this
statement at this juncture is not clear, particularly since he had explicitly
stated the opposite to Rees in August 1947. He appears to be shifting
blame from the ICS to the army, despite ample evidence, documented

288
Only a few weeks previously, as noted by Campbell-Johnson, ‘Nehru had indicated that
he was very impressed with Rees’ (Mission, p. 175).
289
3 Sep. 1947, File 73 Misc Correspondence, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
290
7 Sep. 1947, File 67 Press Cuttings, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL. It was reported on
4 September that three Sikh civilians had been killed by members of the 1/12th FFR;
on 2 September, a magistrate was killed by Muslim soldiers. See File 68, ‘Personal
Logs’, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
291
Auchinleck to Rees, 13 Sep. 1947, No. 1256, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, p. 911. See also Auchinleck’s comments in
Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 248–9.
292
Moon, ed., Wavell: The Viceroy’s Journal, p. 436.

throughout the period, that while the ICS and police in the Punjab had
ceased to function as institutions the army had not.293
The final report on the role of the PBF was published in November
1947. It included the following statements:
the civil administration . . . virtually ceased to function . . . [T]he police became
completely partisan . . . [T]he troops of the PBF were subjected to a strain which
must be unprecedented . . . [W]ell before [15 August] the intelligence sources
were drying up. The British police and ICS officers were leaving and where their
successors were concerned, the communal factor came very much into the
consideration . . . [T]he intelligence machinery itself virtually ceased to
function – personnel were split and scattered, suspicion and hatred permeated
the ranks of those who had worked together efficiently, the whole civil
government machinery of collection, collation, timely dissemination to all
intents and purposes went out of commission . . . [T]he army, operating in the
aid to the civil power, naturally relies mainly on the intelligence services of
the civil government. Already in the Punjab, however, it had become clear that
the army must supplement these by its own efforts . . . [This] had become
apparent in April/May and considerable efforts made to build up an efficient
supplementary system of army intelligence. But of course the building up of an
intelligence system takes time and continuity of key personnel.294
Maj. Gen. Rees was more direct: in a letter to Gen. Sir Richard O’Connor,
the adjutant general of the British Army at the time, he stated bluntly: ‘I am
sure [Indian and Pakistani politicians] will realize that it was only the PBF
that stood between them and complete chaos and anarchy.’295
The Indian Army was, essentially, set up to act as a police force,
providing support to the civil police, who were expected to provide the
intelligence required for effective operations. The district commissioner
for Lahore and Amritsar, in documenting his experiences of this period,
wrote: ‘As regards the military and security aspects of partition oper-
ations. I think the outstanding lesson which we learned was [the] critical
importance of first class intelligence.’296 This was a system that had been
proven effective in fifty years of operations.
The PBF, initially comprising only five brigades,297 was asked to cover
twelve districts298 within the Punjab: an area comprising 37,500 square

293
See letter of 14 Aug. 1947, File 51 Misc. Drafts and Reports, Rees Papers, OIOC, BL.
294
Report of the PBF, Nov. 1947, L/WS/1/1134, OIOC, BL.
295
Rees to O’Connor, 15 Nov. 1947, Box 6/29, O’Connor Papers, Liddell Hart Centre,
KCL.
296
Mss Eur F409 George Brander, ICS, OIOC, BL.
297
The 5th Indian, 11th Indian, 14th Para, 114th Indian, and 43rd Lorried Brigades.
Many of the battalions were under strength for both men and ofﬁcers; see Jeffrey, ‘The
Punjab Boundary Force’, p. 498, and Tuker, Memory, p. 447.
298
20 Jul. 1947, Mountbatten Papers, OIOC, BL.

miles and a population of 14.5 million, many of whom were demobilised

soldiers.299 Many of the units that made up the PBF came from regi-
ments that recruited heavily in the Punjab.300 These men were called
upon to protect the lives of people who might be implicated in the killing
of their own families.
No one could have predicted the level of violence that erupted and the
fact that the police and the civil administration, already under incredible
communal pressure, ceased, for all intents and purposes, to operate with
any cohesion. Their breakdown left the PBF to handle the situation as
best they could, operating under strength and in a situation of unpreced-
ented social disruption. Lt Gen. Sir Francis Tuker commented that
‘many people were encouraged to kill that summer by the almost total
collapse, in the Punjab, of the legal sanctions which normally operate in
civil society to inhibit such behaviour. “It appears as if there is not
Government ruling over this area”, wrote a Jemadar of the Indian Army,
“everybody [at] present [is] at liberty to kill as many [people] as he
likes”.’301
Although there were instances of subunits not performing their duties,
there were many more examples of professionalism maintained, at times
in situations of extreme stress. As noted above, the Indian Army outside
the Punjab performed well in IS duties; even formations that served in
the Punjab, but did not serve with the PBF, carried out their duties. An
internal report from GOC HQ Eastern Command specifically praised the
80th Indian Brigade, noting that ‘the behaviour of the Indian soldier is
almost beyond praise. He has shown to the whole district that the Indian
soldier has no communal feeling in the execution of his duty.’302
An officer serving with the 25th Indian Brigade in northern Punjab
vividly recalls the tensions at the time, as well as the process of splitting
up the units within the brigade. He highlighted an issue that was raised
in a variety of reports: the quality of available officers: ‘the impartiality

299
There are many misconceptions regarding the numbers of troops allocated to the PBF.
Estimates have ranged as high as 55,000 soldiers; but documentary evidence indicates
that total numbers, after reinforcements, never exceeded 25,000. See Campbell-
Johnson, Mission, p. 139; Yasmin Khan, Great Partition, p. 129; Jeffrey, ‘The Punjab
Boundary Force’, pp. 498–9; Bristow, Memories, p. 158; and Alex von Tunzelmann,
Indian Summer (New York: Henry Holt, 2007), p. 196, for examples of this issue.
300
Regiments such as the 12th Frontier Force Regiment, 13th Frontier Force Riﬂes, 1st
Punjab, 2nd Punjab, 10th Baluch, and 17th Dogras recruited local Sikhs, Punjabi
Musalmans, and Hindu Dogras into their ranks. Many of the regimental centres for
the Indian Army were also based in the province.
301
Tuker, Memory, p. 433; quote in Copland, ‘Master’, p. 697.
302
‘Special Notes from GOC HQ Eastern Command dealing with the Riots’, 7707–35,
NAM.

of the British officers was the key stone to our discipline and
efficiency’. He openly questioned the professionalism of one of the
Pakistani senior officers in the brigade, and asserted that ‘our units
were very willing to do all they could to maintain law and order . . . [S]
ome of our units still comprised Hindus and Muslims. We had no fear
that religious mania would affect the troops for they were loyal and
well-disciplined under their officers . . . [O]ur sepoys were magnificent
in carrying out their awful and shocking duties and helping when they
could irrespective of caste and religion, sometimes having to fire on
their own co-religionists.’303
Brig. Bristow, who was engaged in Punjab operations during August
1947, however, summarised the gap in which the PBF found itself
stranded, with doctrine and history on one side and the realities of the
Punjab on the other: ‘The normal internal security role of the army
was to support the civil power in maintaining law and order, but we
faced a crisis in which the civil power was ineffective, law and order
had completely broken down, and the reliability of the troops
varied.’304
While some subunits of the PBF did succumb to communal pressure,
especially after 15 August, to make the blanket statement that the PBF
failed in its role, whether due to the collapse of the Indian Army, to
politics, or to communalism, is to radically oversimplify the complexities
of the situation. It is possible that the PBF did fail in its mission to stop
the violence. As this chapter has tried to demonstrate, the reasons why it
may have failed had less to do with lack of discipline in the force during
the violence, and more to do with factors that were outside its control.
The fact that the PBF and the Indian Army, as institutions, did not
collapse is a real and lasting testament to the professionalism of the force.
As the events of 1947 clearly show, there were concerted efforts to
undermine the integrity of the Indian Army from many of the same
people who would later claim that the PBF was not viable and had
possibly played a role in the violence in the Punjab. As Ian Copland
noted, ‘while recent work by Suranjan Das and Swarna Aiyer makes it
clear that in many cases the aggressors operated in organized groups
under “military style” leadership, apparently to a plan, researchers have
yet to determine where and by whom these shadowy schemes were

303
Maj. MacDwyer, ‘Memoirs’, pp. 135–49, 7809–3, NAM.
304
Bristow, Memories, p. 164. The commander of the 14th Punjab Regimental Centre
aired similar sentiments, declaring that ‘No human was prepared for the wave of
communal feeling that surged up in the civilian population . . . It must be placed on
the record the steadfast loyalty of all ranks in the regiment on account of the civil
disturbances of the gravest kind’ (Col J. C. Cotton, 8002–68, NAM).

devised or how they were implemented; nor has anyone succeeded in

unravelling the links – that must surely have existed – between the actual
perpetrators and the fire-brand Bengali, Bihari and Punjabi
politicians’.305
The Indian Army went through a period of instability that could have
destroyed any military organisation. Its experience in the events sur-
rounding independence and partition is unique in the annals of military
history and decolonisation. No other force has had to deal with such
extreme and varied pressures. The communal violence that erupted in
the Punjab in March 1947 and continued into November, with varying
degrees of intensity,306 tested the Indian Army at the same time that
major changes were occurring in its structure.307
Many of the decisions taken over the previous two years – ‘public’ INA
trials, demobilisation, division of the army – only increased the difficul-
ties for a force asked to serve as police, government, and military in a
region that was tearing itself apart. Looking at the whole picture, it seems
beyond question that the PBF did what it could. That issues arose with
some subunits exhibiting partisan behaviour is not in question; but to
claim that the PBF did not succeed in any way is inaccurate. It is not an
exaggeration to say that, without the intervention of the PBF, the number
of people killed in the Punjab could easily have been double the number
listed today. The Indian Army was essentially asked to prevent, or to
attempt to contain, a civil war erupting among the various ethnic and
religious groups from which its own soldiers, officers, and VCOs were
drawn. The fact that a small proportion of troops demonstrated bias is
surprising only because it was not more widespread. Any military force
confronted with the carnage of the Punjab would have been hard pressed
indeed trying not only to stop the killings, but also to prevent its own
units from becoming emotionally involved in the situation, even if they
had to become physically involved. It is hard to determine whether the
Indian Army was close to disintegration, due to the fact that there are

305
Copland states later in his article: ‘I want to conclude by suggesting that the question of
responsibility for the east Punjab massacres cannot begin and end with the Akalis
[Princely States] and their princely allies, but must also comprehend the
Congressmen at the Centre who sent wholly wrong and mischievous signals to the
Sikh perpetrators. During the six months that the killings went on, the Union
government did virtually nothing to stop them’ (‘Master’, pp. 659 and 703).
306
Swarna Aiyar divided the violence into three different phases: three weeks of March,
conﬁned to the West Punjab; April–July, sporadic outbreaks; and August, sustained
incidents, which peaked during the week of 13th to the 19th: Aiyar, ‘Anarchy’, pp.
16–17.
307
See Chapter 6 for a detailed discussion of the demobilisation, division, and
nationalisation of the Indian Army.

minimal examples, but what was worrying for some was that some units
did exhibit communal feelings, and that was damning and fearful enough
for many since, if the army had collapsed in the Punjab, there would have
been nothing left but anarchy.
In a letter written in 1970, Sir Francis Mudie stated the following key
points regarding the PBF (which could not be substantiated from arch-
ival sources): ‘the trouble with the PBF was that it was operating in a
vacuum, an army responsible to no government . . . [I]t weakened Rees’s
position . . . and in fact there were instances of soldiers fighting amongst
themselves and firing at their British officers or so it was reported to
me . . . General Rees did his best, but he had been given an impossible job
and I was very sorry for him.’308 It is clear that there were a few instances
of this sort, but they appear from the documentary evidence to be very
isolated events. As the GOC for Bihar and Orissa specifically com-
mented, a common theme, ‘It is interesting to note particularly amongst
the fighting units when there are shared memories of past battles against
a common enemy and proud knowledge of regimental achievement and
tradition, that the strong ties of loyalty which bind the Indian soldier to
his unit and his officer are not easily broken.’309

308
Mss Eur F164, Sir Robert Francis Mudie Papers, 1970, OIOC, BL.
309
Sep. 1947, Notes of GOC, Box 71/21/4/6, Tuker Papers, IWM.

The PBF may have been ineffective, but on a smaller scale, countless
people were saved by the bravery of individuals who deﬁed their
co-religionists and sheltered, supplied or otherwise protected their
neighbours.1
With the ending of the PBF’s mission on 1 September, the British
Indian Army’s history, for all intents and purposes, also came to an
end. Unfortunately, the violence did not, but continued on both sides

1
Chester, Borders and Conﬂict in South Asia, p. 132.

338

of the border.2 Unrest had spread to the streets of Delhi, and chaos
reigned across the newly independent states of India and Pakistan.
In September, two British battalions were brought into Delhi to help
quell the violence, in direct contravention of decisions made before
August 1947, which prohibited the use of British troops following
partition.3
As the GOC of the PBF, Maj. Gen. Pete Rees was routinely viliﬁed in
the Indian press; following the PBF’s dissolution, he was offered a senior
position in the newly formed Military Evacuation Organization (MEO).
This organisation, which was established on both sides of the border to
facilitate evacuation of refugees, employed military personnel from both
sides to provide transport and escort.4 The organisation and its perform-
ance were generally commended throughout the remainder of 1947;5
there were, however, some troubling reports regarding the poor perform-
ance of some units who were tasked with protecting refugees that were
not of their caste.6
Col Mohammed Sher Khan was sent into East Punjab in September
1947 to report back to the supreme commander about the situation
there. He advised that the violence appeared to be dropping in intensity,
but suggested that one reason for this was lack of targets. He also
addressed the fact that the number of attacks on the railways had begun
to dissipate. He was scathing in his assessment of the state of the civil
administration, bluntly declaring that it did not exist, and that the IP
were not only still ineffective, but were actively involved in the violence
and looting of Muslim communities that remained.

2
Tuker, Memory, ch. 37, pp. 479–95, gives many accounts of military units attempting to
deal with communal violence and evidence of units and commanders carrying out this
difﬁcult mission, even though the soldiers were beginning to falter in some units.
3
Hamid, Disastrous, pp. 246–7. This was a major decision that was negotiated and debated
throughout 1947, up to and including August. It was explicitly speciﬁed that British Army
units would not be used in the Punjab, a decision that was agreed by both India and
Pakistan. See many letters and correspondence regarding this issue in TOP, X–XII.
There was also another request for British troops still in country to be used as a
protection force for the various refugee camps; it stipulated that they would not be used
in any ‘military duties’. See both the 11th and 12th Meeting Emergency Committee
Meetings, 8 and 16 Sep. 1947, DO 133/62, NA.
4
Kirpal Singh, ed., Partition of the Punjab, item 183, ‘Raising of the Evacuation
Organization’, pp. 544–6. See the various entries and correspondence covered ibid., pp.
530–70, and ‘Emergency Committee Papers and Minutes’, DO 133/61–2, NA, for more
details on the running of the MEO.
5
The Prime Minister remarked that the MEO of the two Dominions ‘seemed to be
co-operating very satisfactorily’: Minutes 23rd Meeting Emergency Committee
Meeting, 17 Oct. 1947, DO 133/62, NA. Various authors have stated similar sentiments.
6
See the various minutes from the Emergency Committee Reports for September–
October; see DO 133/60–2, NA.

Khan was not alone in expressing feelings of exasperation towards the

IP; other officials were much the same, including the governor, who
reportedly stated, ‘I would not be sorry if the Army shot them including
their officers.’7 Khan did report some issues with soldiers as well,8
including that ‘the non-Muslim soldiers do not provide adequate protec-
tion for the trains or columns . . . [T]his does not apply to Gurkha or
Garhwali troops or to a certain extent non-Punjabi troops, but if they are
commanded by a non-Muslim officer other than a British officer then
their action is also not as vigorous as it should be.’9 Other reports,
however, specifically stated that the same battalions did stellar work in
protecting refugees. The 1/1st Punjab Regiment was commended for its
services in Lahore, and the 1st Punjab Regimental Centre in Jhelum was
commended for its efforts to protect more than 5,000 Sikh and Hindu
refugees during the month of September.
The division of the army continued in the weeks leading up to and
following independence, under the command of the supreme com-
mander, Field Marshal Claude Auchinleck. Gen. Sir Reginald Savory
reported in September,
The poor old Indian Army is in the process of being partitioned in spite of all that
is happening we are succeeding to a great extent in unravelling the major units
and transferring them to the right side . . . [I]n spite of this momentum the
traditions of the Indian Army are able to stand as the sole barrier between India
and anarchy. The men are bewildered but still trying to do their duty. They are
under great strain, with constant duties . . . [plus the] still greater strain of
communalism.10
The division process continued as various subunits moved out from
different cantonments to either India or Pakistan, often escorted by

7
‘Report on East Punjab Situation’, 24 Sep. 1947, Mss Eur F164/14 Mudie, OIOC, BL.
8
Tuker referred to the increased tensions as Muslim soldiers waited to be moved to
Pakistan and to the fears of many from the Punjab for their families. He also reported
Hindu troops killing and wounding fellow co-religionists who were attacking Muslim
villages or refugees. It is hard to state that all the troops were communally biased, as
many reports would contradict other rumours. See Memory, pp. 471–8.
9
‘Report on East Punjab Situation’, Mss Eur F164/14 Mudie, OIOC, BL; see subsection,
‘Military’, 24 Sep. 1947. Col Khan felt that the columns or trains with Muslim soldiers
tended not to be attacked by Sikh jathas or other militias. Interestingly, a lieutenant
colonel from the Madras Regiment was accused of shooting at police in Delhi. He later
apologised for losing his head, but relations between the police and army, already tense,
became more so. See ‘Minutes of Emergency Committee Meeting’, 15th Meeting, 22
Sep. 1947, DO 133/62, NA.
10
Letter to Gen. Scoones, Sep. 1947, 7603-93-81, Savory Papers, NAM. Gen. Bucher
stated on 19 July 1948, in a letter to Gen. Savory, ‘I have been doing a lot of touring
[of regimental centres] and everyone from the Commanding Ofﬁcer down is determined
to maintain the old standards’ (7603-93-82, Savory Papers, NAM).

troops from the same battalion or regiment. For example, the 1/16th
Punjab Regiment was earmarked for Pakistan. The battalion left Eastern
Command on 5 August and the Dogra and Sikh companies were left in
Ramgarh, to join the Dogra Regiment and the 7th Battalion, Sikh
Regiment.11
The transfer of the Sikh and Dogra companies from the 5/12th
(Guides) Frontier Force Regiment illustrated the precariousness of the
situation in both Dominions after partition. The Guides were stationed
at Razmak on the frontier. The Dogra D Company was detached to the
3/4th Bombay Grenadiers at Thal on the frontier. When the battalion
was ordered to move to India in September 1947, the train was attacked
by Pashtun tribesmen. The Dogras and the Grenadiers were able to beat
off the attack, but lost six men killed and twelve wounded. This episode
shocked the ofﬁcers, VCOs, NCOs, and soldiers in the Guides. The Sikh
B Company still needed to be transported to India. The Sikhs were put
on alert to move at an hour’s notice, for over three weeks, as Supreme
Command co-ordinated trains or trucks plus escorts for subunits moving
to and fro. The Sikhs and the Muslims had a traditional farewell
bara-khana. The battalion went out on ‘road clearing’ without the Sikh
company. The Sikhs were put into trucks and moved towards India. The
rest of the battalion did not know the move had occurred until they
returned to barracks; only the lieutenant colonel and the subedar major
were aware. Word reached the battalion that the Sikhs had arrived safely
in Jubbulpore and joined the 7/11th Sikhs.12
The rest of the companies were ﬁlled with Punjabi Musalmans from
the 7th Rajput Regiment13 as well as soldiers from the regimental
centre.14 The 1/12th FFR served in the PBF; following the PBF’s dissol-
ution, it was shipped to Lyallpur in Pakistan with its Sikh and Dogra
companies and spent the month of September escorting non-Muslim
refugees to the India/Pakistan border. On 23 September, the battalion
escorted its Sikhs and Dogras to the border, where they marched across
the border to join the 1/2nd Punjab Regiment.15 Lt Col J. C. Bell, 3/12th

11
Lawford, Solah Punjab. Lt Col Lawford reported that the two companies ‘said goodbye
to the battalion for the last time, amid many manifestations of regret by all who were
present’ (ibid., p. 280).
12
Lt Gen. George MacMunn, History of the Guides, 1922–1947 (Aldershot: Gale & Polden,
1950), p. 181.
13
For a meticulously detailed history of the specifics of the very complicated division of the
army (including where specific companies from specific battalions were assigned during
the months of September, October, and November 1947), see Gaylor, Sons of John
Company, as well as the many Indian Army regimental histories published in the past
forty years in the UK, Pakistan, and India.
14 15
Condon, Frontier Force Regiment, pp. 560–1. Ibid., p. 564.

Frontier Force Regiment, summed up many sentiments when he sent a

note to Gen. Savory and Field Marshal Auchinleck from Pakistan on 18
October 1947, stating that ‘we are all Muslim now . . . [I]t was a sad
moment . . . [T]he senior Sikh VCO wept in my ofﬁce as he was about to
go to India. In spite of this I think everyone felt that it was time to part.’16
As discussed earlier, the issue of the Brigade of Gurkhas was still being
negotiated as independence dawned. Gurkha units had carried out IS
duties throughout India, and been commended for their professionalism.
Their conditions of future service, whether with the British Army, the
Indian Army, or options for return to civil life, remained under discus-
sion throughout September and October 1947. The delay, indecision,
and impending division of troops caused considerable consternation for
VCOs, NCOs, and soldiers. Reports from September indicated that
more than half of the Gurkhas were willing to serve in the Indian Army,
including Gurkhas from the regiments destined for the British Army.17
On 3 November 1947, the 1/2nd King Edward’s Own Gurkhas came
close to mutiny. Frustrated by concern and tension about their future,
they refused to parade. The men had been incorrectly informed that they
were to move to the Punjab, which to some meant movement to Malaya
and British service. They resented having not been consulted about
whether they wanted to opt for India, Britain, or Nepal.18
The tripartite agreement resolving the Gurkhas’ future was concluded
on 9 November 1947 among Britain, India, and Nepal. India received
twelve of the twenty battalions. Four regiments (eight battalions) were
selected for British service; these held a referendum for the men to decide
their future: remain with the Indian Army, transfer to the British Army,
or be discharged. By January 1948, 3,500 Gurkhas had opted to remain
in British service,19 and were immediately shipped to Malaya, just as the
Malayan Emergency began.20

16
Letter to Gen. Scoones, 18 Oct. 1947, 7603-93-83, Savory Papers, NAM; also 18 Oct.
1947, No. 1268, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
17
Auchinleck to Scoones, 15 Sep. 1947, No. 1259, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester. This result surprised many British ofﬁcers, who thought that more than
half would want to serve with the British Army.
18
In the end, just over 300 out of 700 troops from the battalion chose to remain in British
service. See Auchinleck to Chiefs of Staff, UK, L/WS/1/1025, OIOC, BL; Gregorian,
British Army, p. 41; Omissi, ‘A Dismal Story?’, p. 211; and Stevens, History of the 2nd
King Edward VII’s Own Gurkha Riﬂes, vol. III, pp. 312–13.
19
Gregorian, British Army, p. 42, and Omissi, ‘A Dismal Story?’, p. 212.
20
The British Gurkha regiments were under strength and, following partition, lacking in
veteran VCOs, NCOs, and soldiers. Both of these factors would cause issues for Malaya
Command as they attempted to get to grips with the violence of the Malayan Emergency.
See Daniel Marston, ‘Lost and Found in the Jungle’, in Hew Strachan, ed., Big Wars and
Small Wars (London: Routledge, 2004), pp. 96–114, for more details.

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Auchinleck’s end of tenure as supreme commander 343

Auchinleck’s end of tenure as supreme commander

The PBF’s disbandment also signalled Field Marshal Auchinleck’s final
official operational mission. However, in practice, some 2,000 British
officers remained after independence, serving in positions from the
highest levels of the Pakistan and Indian Armies to battalion commands
on both sides of the divided subcontinent. As the two fledgling armies
attempted to contend with communal conflict in northern India, the two
newly formed states prepared for war as the crisis in the Kashmir
intensified.
For many people, the British Indian Army truly came to an end with
the resignation of Auchinleck as the supreme commander. His position
after the end of the PBF was in many ways the most difficult of his career.
As the governments of India and Pakistan became increasingly hostile to
one another, each sought more and more from the divided Indian Army,
openly preparing for armed conflict. In addition to this pressure, Auchin-
leck also began to accuse the Indian government openly of failing to deal
with the violence. His criticism was rooted in the expectation that it was
only a matter of time before the press and the Indian government
attempted to blame him and his staff for the deteriorating situation.21
Auchinleck was frank with Scoones about his fears for the future. In
September 1947, he wrote:
our position as a neutral body trying to partition the Armed Forces to the equal
advantage of both Dominions is not, as you will realize, exactly an easy one . . .
The Army has become infected with the communal virus . . . [W]e expect not
more than about 3,000 British officers out of a rough total of 9,000 to volunteer
to remain on during Reconstitution . . . [T]here are not enough officers . . . to go
around . . . [T]he quality of such officers as there are is nothing like high enough
to enable us to find sufficient officers of requisite experience and knowledge to fill
the high command and staff appointments. This has been pointed out many
times to both Governments and is still being pointed out by me . . . I do not think,
however, that facts such as this make much impression on people who are
determined to nationalise the officer cadres as quickly as possible, which
appears to be the case so far as the Indian Government is concerned. In
Pakistan the authorities seem to be much more reasonable.22
While contending with these issues and the ongoing division of the
armed forces, Auchinleck continued to plan for the drawdown of his
HQ. The expected end date was 1 April 1948.23

21
See Hamid’s entries for 2 and 4 September 1947, in Disastrous, p. 245.
22
Auchinleck to Scoones, 15 Sep. 1947, No. 1259, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 913–15.
23
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 247.

Lt Col Hamid met with Auchinleck in Rawalpindi for one of the final
times on 23 September, just after his family had been evacuated to
Pakistan. According to Hamid, Auchinleck felt that HMG had let him
down; he felt that Mountbatten was no longer impartial, and that his own
position was becoming untenable. Hamid advised Auchinleck to stand
down, and described him afterwards as ‘a very sad man carrying within
him a deep sense of failure’.24
Within days of this meeting, Mountbatten, now the governor-general
of India, sent Auchinleck a letter stating that the supreme commander
position was no longer considered workable by many members of the
Indian cabinet. He advised Auchinleck frankly that criticisms of both the
position and Auchinleck personally had begun back in August. Mount-
batten went on to say that, while he had created the position especially to
assist the two newly formed governments with the key administrative job
of dividing up the armed forces in general and the army in particular, the
Indian leadership remained suspicious of the position’s true purpose.
Mountbatten had asserted repeatedly to the Indian cabinet that
operational control of the armed forces remained with them, through
the current CinC, Gen. Lockhart, and it was clear that he could not
argue any longer or, apparently, convince the Indian politicians. The
only solution was for HQ, and Auchinleck’s position, to go.25
On 28 September, Auchinleck delivered a report on the situation in
India and Pakistan to the prime minister, chief of the Imperial General
Staff, and the chiefs of the Air and Naval Staffs. His report, in two large
parts, covered a wide range of issues, including tensions surrounding the
division of the assets of the armed forces (describing India in this instance
as difficult and Pakistan as co-operative), and the future of the Gurkha
units.
Auchinleck’s report also addressed some very contentious topics. One
such involved the morale and retention of British officers who had
chosen to ‘stay on’ after independence. Auchinleck described the
officers’ current state of mind: ‘the conditions of massacre and bestiality
of the worst kind in which many of these British officers have been
working continuously for many weeks have sickened them. They have
also lost faith in their cloth and in their men, of whom they were so proud

24
Ibid., pp. 252–3.
25
Mountbatten to Auchinleck, 26 Sep. 1947, No. 1260, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 915–19. Ismay sent Auchinleck a note
stating that he had seen Mountbatten’s note and felt it was the best solution, due to the
tension with the Indian government. See Ismay to Auchinleck, 26 Sep. 1947, No. 1261,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester; partially reproduced in Connell,
Auchinleck, pp. 919–20.

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Auchinleck’s end of tenure as supreme commander 345

a short two months back.’26 He went on to discuss an assessment of

British officers serving on both sides of the recently divided Punjab,
which stated bluntly that morale was lower than ever experienced in the
past. The reasons for this low morale came down to ‘1. Disgust at the
appalling scenes they were forced to see in the execution of their duty. 2.
A sense of frustration owing to the almost total lack of aid and support
from the civil authorities. 3. A conviction that the exercise of impartiality
is no longer possible or indeed desired by those in authority. 4. A feeling
that their efforts are entirely unrecognized by either Dominion Govern-
ment.’27 Many of the British officers were now calling to end their
contracts within the following three months.
Auchinleck also reported that communal feelings were so heightened
that it was only a matter of time before open hostilities occurred between
the two states. He made it clear that British officers were to desist at
once from any command positions if this was to occur. The Joint
Defence Council made the Dominion governments aware of this fact,
in the case of war.28
Auchinleck followed up this report with a damning letter to Gen. Sir
Richard O’Connor, adjutant general of the British Army, on 3 October
1947, in which he declared ‘in two short months unless conditions could
have completely changed our fine army is gone, ruined . . . British officers
are disenchanted and have lost their magnificent morale and pride . . . It
is heartbreaking . . . British officers have done splendidly and have been
steady and loyal in the most terrible and distasteful circumstances . . .
[G]od help this country.’29
The pressure was mounting on Auchinleck to begin the process of
winding down his HQ, moving up the original date of April 1948 to
(at first) the end of 1947. He made it clear, in letters to Gen. Sir Geoffrey
Scoones (then principal staff officer, Commonwealth Relations Office)
and Mountbatten, that he was aware of the Indian government’s desire to
remove him and his staff,30 but reminded Mountbatten that he also

26
Auchinleck, ‘Report on the Situation in India and Pakistan, 28 Sep. 1947, No. 1262,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester; partially reproduced in Connell,
Auchinleck, pp. 920–4.
27
Ibid. It stated that five British officers had been killed over a period of a week, trying to
protect refugees on both sides of the border.
28
Ibid.
29
Auchinleck to O’Connor, 3 Oct. 1947, Box 7/13, O’Connor Papers, Liddell Hart
Centre, KCL.
30
He specifically stated to Scoones: ‘as you know, there is a violent animosity towards my
HQ, the JDC, and indeed any form of joint activity, which may help to secure anything
for Pakistan at the expense of India, in the minds of the Indian Government, and they
have put every possible pressure on Mountbatten to get rid of me and my HQ’

served the Pakistan government, and that they would have to be con-
sulted as well.31 A few days later, Auchinleck changed the proposed end
date for his position and command to 30 November, and recommended
that the Reconstitution Committee should also cease on that day.32
The JDC met on 16 October in Lahore, to discuss this and other
issues. Field Marshal Auchinleck reiterated his recommendation that
his HQ and position be terminated as of 30 November, and a heated
debate ensued. The Indian representatives agreed with the proposal, as
did Lord Mountbatten. The Pakistan representatives, including the
prime minister, Liaquat Ali Khan, were adamantly opposed to the
proposal, and determined that the Supreme HQ should remain open.
This allowed Auchinleck to more fully articulate his position:
My reasons for that recommendation are stated – as mildly as possible – in the
paper which is before the meeting. In the present atmosphere it has become
impossible for me and my officers to carry on with our task after November 30.
I am not prepared to keep my officers in this impossible situation. Continual
innuendos and accusations are being levelled against my HQ. I and my officers
cannot continue, in such circumstances, to perform a task for which co-operation
is necessary. I have not made this proposal in any desire to run away from the
completion of my responsibilities, but because of the situation I cannot for much
longer discharge those responsibilities.33
The debate continued, but the only resolution achieved in the meeting
was that the two states agreed to go away and discuss the ramifications
with their respective cabinets.34
Auchinleck had made up his mind and within two weeks HMG had
agreed with his proposal to close down the HQ and terminate his
command position.35 The Indian Government had agreed as well, but
not the Pakistan Government.36 As the wrangling continued, a larger
problem emerged: the Jammu and Kashmir crisis. On 24 October, 5,000

(Auchinleck to Scoones, 5 Oct. 1947, No. 1263, Auchinleck Papers, University of

Manchester).
31
Auchinleck to Mountbatten, 6 Oct. 1947, No. 1264, Auchinleck Papers, University of
Manchester.
32
Note for the Joint Defence Council Meeting to Be Held on the 16 of October in Lahore,
13 Oct. 1947, No. 1266, Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester.
33
Minutes of the Joint Defence Council Meeting held on the 16 of October, No. 1267,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester; also in Connell, Auchinleck, pp. 925–9.
34
The arguing continued between the senior leadership; see telegrams from Nehru to Ali
Khan, 18 Oct. 1947, No. 1270, and Ali Khan to Nehru, 24 Oct. 1947, No. 1273,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester, for more details.
35
It was formally announced on 13 November: Hamid, Disastrous, p. 282.
36
See the various letters in Auchinleck Papers (University of Manchester), for the rest of
October and early November, from No. 1271 onwards, for more speciﬁc debates and
discussions.

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Auchinleck’s end of tenure as supreme commander 347

tribesmen from the NWFP crossed the border to support the Muslims
who had risen in opposition to any forced annexation by India. The
Maharajah of Kashmir and Jammu announced on the 26th that the state
would accede to India, and asked for Indian military support to deal with
the resulting violence. The Indian government obliged, airlifting in a
battalion of troops on 27 October. Gen. Sir Robert Lockhart, CinCI,
could take no other course of action; Kashmir was now part of India, and
providing military support did not violate any rules regarding the use of
British officers in the field.
Auchinleck received word from Gen. Gracey (who was acting CinC
Pakistan while Gen. Messervy was on leave) that Jinnah had ordered him
on the evening of 27/8 October to send Pakistan army troops into Jammu
and Kashmir. Gracey made it clear to Jinnah that such an order could not
be obeyed; if it were, the ‘stand down’ order and withdrawal of all British
officers would be in effect, since this action would constitute an invasion
of Indian territory. Auchinleck flew to Lahore to meet with Jinnah and
reiterated Messervy’s points; Jinnah ultimately rescinded his order, but
remained outraged with the situation.37
Auchinleck held his last meeting with the CinCs of both India and
Pakistan, as well as with senior members of the Supreme Command, on
15 November. The senior commanders discussed the possibility of
future outright war between the two Dominions; Auchinleck was not
optimistic, and considered that there was no hope of reconciliation
between the two states.38
As he made final preparations to depart office, Field Marshal Auchin-
leck refused to accept a peerage or any other award for which Lord
Mountbatten had nominated him; he felt that he had failed in his mission
and was quite low in spirits.39 He advised Mountbatten, however, that
there were others on his staff whom he believed were deserving of
recognition for their hard work.
On 26 November 1947, Auchinleck left his residence in New Delhi
and, with more than forty years of service in the Indian Army, ended his
military career. Gen. Savory spoke on behalf of many officers, Indian and
British, those who had remained in the Indian and Pakistan Armies as
well as those who had retired or transferred service to the British Army,
when he said ‘Now he has gone. The flag no longer flies over his house.

37
Telegram from Auchinleck to Chiefs of Staff, London, 28 Oct., 1947, No. 1275,
Auchinleck Papers, University of Manchester. See also Hamid’s entry for 28 October,
in Disastrous, pp. 278–9.
38
Hamid, Disastrous, p. 282.
39
See letter from Mountbatten to Auchinleck, 8 Nov. 1947, reproduced ibid., pp. 281–2.

The sentries have gone and he has gone. One of the best friends India
ever had. And one on whom, at the last moment, the Indians turned.
Sad. A great man who has done more for India than any living English-
man and yet who during his last few months of office was misrepresented
by the Indians for their own ends.’40
I witnessed the last, and perhaps the most fitting, tributes to Auchin-
leck during a research visit to Pakistan and India in 2000. During a visit
to Peshawar cantonment, a senior Pakistan general insisted on showing
me personally what he considered the highlight of the tour. This was a
monument to Field Marshal Auchinleck, erected at the heart of the
cantonment, thanking him for all that he had done for the Pakistan Army.
Later, in New Delhi, I had scheduled a meeting with a senior Indian
Army general, one who had links to one of the cavalry regiments that
I profiled in Phoenix from the Ashes. The general took me into the
old CinCI office specifically to show me the room and desk where
Auchinleck had worked during the Second World War and through to
independence. He was immensely proud to be getting the desk in the
near future, on the occasion of his promotion to full general.

Concluding comments
The final years of the Raj constituted one of the most trying periods in the
history of the British and Indian interaction. The Indian Army was
simultaneously vilified and expected to fill multiple political and security
gaps as the pace of British withdrawal accelerated and the lack of a clear
strategy became ever more apparent. The political leadership on both
sides of the political divide – nationalists and HMG – failed to grasp the
potential impact of many of their ‘tactical’ decisions, particularly those
which involved the army. Ultimately, both groups expected the impos-
sible from an army that became, in many places, the only line of defence
against a communal holocaust that was exploding across northern India.
Other issues weighed heavily on the minds of many within the Indian
Army during the summer of 1947. They watched as the nationalist
political leadership aided and defended members of the INA and used
them as a counterweight to the Indian Army. They watched as political
parties enflamed communal violence in selected areas of the country for
short-term gain. They watched as the Indian civil service and the Indian
Police effectively ceased to function in northern India during the height
of the civil war, leaving them ‘holding the bag’. They watched as
unimaginable horrors of violence committed against neighbours rose to

40
26 Nov. 1947, reproduced ibid., pp. 284–5.

unheard-of levels in 1946 and 1947. Many of the army’s professional

soldiers lost family members and friends, and some of them, perhaps
understandably, began to question what they were doing to protect the
lives of others. The bitterest irony in all of this was the accusations by
some nationalist leaders that the army was not doing enough to stop
the violence. The strange request, in the summer of 1947, for the army to
use maximum force to stop the violence, was for most of its members yet
another example of the lack of understanding and the hypocrisy that to
them characterised both sides of the political discourse.
HMG decided to use the Indian Army in the traditional role of
Imperial Reserve for operations in post-Second World War Asia. In
doing so, they failed to recognise not only the colossal hypocrisy of this
position – the use of Indian troops to re-impose imperial rule in non-
British colonies – but also the political impact of this decision in India.
This policy also made it manifestly obvious that HMG considered the
deaths of Indian jawans a more acceptable political cost than the lives of
British conscripts who were in the process of demobilisation. In the face
of this reality, it becomes all the more amazing that the Indian units and
formations sent to French Indo-China and the Netherlands East Indies
carried out their duties with professionalism.
The military leadership of the Indian Army bears the responsibility of
not recognising the complete perceptual shift of the post-war period,
particularly in terms of how the emerging states of India and Pakistan
viewed their military resources. Auchinleck, in an attempt to deal with
the INA as an institution, did not recognise the political impact of his
decision to have the trials take place at the Red Fort in Delhi. Many
senior commanders wanted above all to keep the army secure from any
infection of communalism and politics, foreseeing its crucial role as the
last bulwark against the rise of violence in 1946 and 1947.
The Indian Army’s military leadership was fighting a losing battle, as
became apparent by August 1947. The pressure of nationalism, commu-
nalism, and nationalist leadership narratives began to seep into the battle-
hardened veteran formations as they looked towards their mutual – and
separate – futures. While loyalty to the regiment was still important, there
was now an unprecedented political change on the horizon, and it caused
confusion and distress for soldiers, NCOs, VCOs, and officers. The diffi-
culties in undertaking the division of the army, especially between Field
Marshal Auchinleck and Lt Gen. Tuker, highlighted tensions among the
senior leadership and officers about the Indian Army’s future.41

41
Among the middle part of the ofﬁcer corps, there were those who were slow to accept the
realities of partition. A future Pakistani ofﬁcer, Maj. Ishaq Mohammed, commented to a

Close to a century of planning, assessment, and action had forged the

Indian Army into a veteran force that was above whatever political
disputes raged beyond its ranks. For the most part, the British Raj had
succeeded in keeping it cocooned from the contentious politics of the
day. However, the expansion of the army during the Second World
War – and its subsequent contraction – had left behind a huge number
of demobilised – and, in many cases, disenfranchised – and trained
personnel, at a loose end in a fragmenting society. As a result of high-
level policy decisions, the professionals who remained in the army had, as
the political situation deteriorated, to contend with politicised and
lethally skilled security forces who used their military training to take
communal violence to unforeseen levels of organisation and ferocity.
Even in the face of this untenable situation, the Indian Army’s experi-
ences in the Second World War proved important. Its record of service in
the war – its professionalism in the face of initial defeats; its willingness to
assess, reform, and learn; its transformation into an integrated and
nationally representative force; and its effective and ultimately victorious
action – had created a lasting bond of esprit de corps among all ranks and
ethnicities. This bond provided a ﬁrm foundation for the army to refer
and hold on to, even in this most testing period of its history.
Contrary to what is asserted in many simplistic descriptions of the
period,42 the Indian Army as an institution did not collapse. There were
incidents of subunits showing a lack of discipline. Considered against the
whole spectrum of events, these are amazingly few, and mainly serve to
point the larger question: what army in the world, then or now, could
have done a more professional job under the circumstances, and held
together as well overall? The Indian Army did not fall apart, and this alone
is a considerable achievement. It is more so when considering that
virtually all of India’s civil institutions in northern India did fall apart in
the run-up to independence and partition and, without the Indian Army
holding fast in the ﬁnal days of the Raj, the death rate and violence could
easily have been multiplied many times over. It is a testament to the army
that it stood its ground and did what it could do in the midst of a civil war,
among its own people, and its members did not resort to widespread
violence themselves.

fellow British ofﬁcer not long before independence became ofﬁcial, ‘If we get Pakistan,
as I hope we will, we must ensure that we keep one united Indian Army’ (author’s
correspondence with John Grigor Taylor and mentioned in other interviews as well).
42
See comments by Kirpal Singh in Partition of the Punjab, p. xxviii, as an example: ‘Some
of the most gruesome tragedies were enacted in the area entrusted to it [PBF] by its own
units because the military force under General Rees was infected with communalism.’
The evidence does not support such a forthright statement.

As stated in the Introduction, Maj. Gen. J. C. Bruce, the commander

of Lahore area, speaking at a press conference on 3 June 1947, may still
provide the best and most succinct summary of the Indian Army’s
position, responsibilities, and beliefs during this period:
The Army is not an inferior organization, we do not take sides, we do not fight for
one community against another. Unfortunately in all countries and amongst all
communities there are wicked and selfish men who are only too ready to stir up
trouble and to seek personal gain from the misery of others . . . [T]he enemies
against which we have now to be prepared to operate, are, therefore, brutality and
chaos in whatever form these threats may present themselves and I am confident
that all ranks will not only recognize their clear duty in this respect, but will be
proud to show once again that forces of goodwill and sound commonsense always
prevail . . . [W]hen you see fellow countrymen, perhaps even your own friends
or relations, either the victims of brutal assaults, or else, guided by thoughtless or
evil agitation into unworthy acts or violence, you must not give way to your
personal feeling for one moment. You must remember that you are on the spot
as the impartial instrument of justice and truth . . . You must restrain the evil
doers. You must protect and secure those who have suffered or are in danger.
You must not be overcome by any desire for revenge . . . In this way you will have
shown yourself a worthy member of the great Indian Army to which you belong
and will have held up the noble tradition of your unit.
The vast majority of the units in the Indian Army of this period can
declare without hesitation that they upheld these proscriptions. Led by
one of the most conscientious and surely the most forward-thinking
CinCI that they had ever had, Field Marshal Auchinleck, the Indian
Army could take pride in the fact that they did so despite pressure to
act otherwise by numerous future political leaders in India and Pakistan,
and lacking clear political leadership from HMG. In the final analysis, the
historical record shows unequivocally that the vast majority of Indian
Army soldiers, NCOs, VCOs, and officers were as loyal to one another
and to the regiment as many previous generations had been, and under
far more trying circumstances. Bonded by the battle experiences of the
Second World War and by a shared sense of pride and professionalism
that crossed ethnic, religious, and regimental boundaries, the army
remained overwhelmingly cohesive and impartial, even when standing
alone in the midst of the civil war that had erupted among their own
villages and families. Ultimately, with only itself to rely upon, the Indian
Army in the last days of the Raj was indeed a rock in an angry sea.

P RI M A RY S OU R CE S
u n pu b l is he d
India Office Papers, British Library (OIOC, BL): printed archives
L/MIL/5/857 Lecture on Indianisation to the Imperial Defence College
1931
L/MIL/5/886 Chatfield Committee
L/MIL/7/5483 Reorganisation of the Indian Army 1920–1934
L/MIL/7/16968 Frontier Operations 1935
L/MIL/7/16971 Frontier Operations Waziristan 1937
L/MIL/7/19088 Reports of Officers Commanding Eight Indianised Units
L/MIL/7/19154 Indianisation
L/MIL/7/19155 Indianisation
L/MIL/7/19156 Indianisation
L/MIL/7/19157 Indianisation
L/MIL/7/19158 Indianisation
L/MIL/17/1/12/42 Report of the Committee Appointed by the Government
of India to Investigate the Disturbances in the Punjab
L/MIL/17/5/531 Army Instructions 1941
L/MIL/17/5/1778 Indianisation
L/MIL/17/5/1793 Investigation of Strength and Composition of the Army in
India 1931
L/MIL/17/5/1800 Indianisation of the Army 1938
L/MIL/17/5/1803 Plan for Modernisation
L/MIL/17/5/1805 Plan for the Modernisation and Re-organisation of the
Army in India 1939
L/MIL/17/5/1816 Report on India Command Internal Defence Exercise
1946
L/MIL/17/5/2153 Recruitment into the Indian Army 1939–1945
L/MIL/17/5/2225 Lectures for Officers Joining the Indian Army
L/MIL/17/5/2234 Training Directives
L/MIL/17/5/2235–9 Jungle Warfare Training Pamphlets
L/MIL/17/5/2242 Army/Air Operations
L/MIL/17/5/2251 Camouflage and Concealment Pamphlet
L/MIL/17/5/2253 Military Training Pamphlet No. 11 Aid to Civil Power
1946

352

L/MIL/17/5/2271 Animal Transport Pamphlet

L/MIL/17/5/2330 Notes for Guidance of Commanding Officers, Staff and
Regimental Officers
L/MIL/17/5/4252 Internal Security Instructions 1937
L/MIL/17/5/4267 Problems connected with Demobilization 1944
L/MIL/17/5/4276 India Command Fortnightly Intelligence Summary, nos.
1–27, 1946–1947
L/MIL/17/5/4277 Weekly Intelligence Summary, nos. 226–32, March–April
1946
L/MIL/17/7/51 Notes for Burma
L/WS/1/136 Recruitment in India 1939–1944
L/WS/1/155 Chatfield Committee
L/WS/1/261 Army in Burma Progress Reports
L/WS/1/267 Quarterly Returns of British Units in Burma 1939–1942
L/WS/1/303 Disaffection of Sikh Troops
L/WS/1/367 Military Reports 1936–1947
L/WS/1/376 Equipment and Training for British Units in Burma 1940
L/WS/1/382 Army Training Memo Burma 1938–1940
L/WS/1/394 Recruitment: New Units Raised
L/WS/1/428 Army in India: Move and Locations of Units and Formations
L/WS/1/439 Commander-in-Chief India Communication with GOC Burma
1940–1942
L/WS/1/456 Class Composition in the Indian Army
L/WS/1/475 Organisation of Indian and British Cavalry Units
L/WS/1/530 Defence of India Plan, 1941–1949
L/WS/1/566 Planning the India Base Pamphlet, 1946–1947
L/WS/1/590 Basic Order of Battle, 1944–1947
L/WS/1/597–8 and 1441 Org. of War Staff and Post War Organization
L/WS/1/610 Army in India: Recruitment
L/WS/1/616–17 Army in India: Divisional Organisations
L/WS/1/639 War Establishment: Infantry
L/WS/1/641 War Establishment: Cavalry
L/WS/1/645 War Establishment: Misc. Units
L/WS/1/650 Army in India Committee on Organisation for War Against
Japan
L/WS/1/653 Director of Infantry Report 1945
L/WS/1/706 Operations in Burma
L/WS/1/707 Army Morale
L/WS/1/742 Publicity ‘Reconstitution of Armed Forces’
L/WS/1/745 Intelligence Correspondence with War Office 1946–1947
L/WS/1/761–3 Training General Questions 1943–1948
L/WS/1/764–5 Director of Military Training Monthly Reports
L/WS/1/766–7 Training Liaison Letters – DMT to India Office 1945–1947
L/WS/1/768–9 Training infantry 1947
L/WS/1/770 Policy and Training D. D. Tactics and Assault Training
L/WS/1/771–2 Training Armoured Vehicles
L/WS/1/777 Training Study Period on Burma

L/WS/1/778 GHQ India Infantry Liaison Letters

L/WS/1/784 Publicity Reports of Indian Officers to UK 1944–1945
L/WS/1/789 Schools Training India 1945–1947
L/WS/1/790 Training Camberley Courses 1945–1948
L/WS/1/796 Training Notes 1940–1945
L/WS/1/797 Appointment of Indian Officers as Liaison and Instructors
in UK
L/WS/1/799 Policy for the Provision of Officers of the Indian Army 1941–
1947
L/WS/1/806 Imperial Defence College 1945–1948
L/WS/1/814 Training Recommendations Staff College 1946–1947
L/WS/1/824 Staff College Quetta
L/WS/1/829 Training Internal Defence 1947
L/WS/1/883 Lethbridge Mission Reports
L/WS/1/909 Monthly Raising Reorganisation and Units 1945–1946
L/WS/1/924 Post-war Officering of the Indian Army
L/WS/1/930–2 Demobilization and Releases
L/WS/1/939 India Command on Morale 1943–1948
L/WS/1/943 Prime Minister Minute on Indian Army Morale 1945
L/WS/1/944 Short Service Commissions 1946–1947
L/WS/1/945 Prime Minister’s Minutes Regarding Morale
L/WS/1/948 Nationalisation of Indian Army 1946–1947
L/WS/1/964–6 Operations in Burma
L/WS/1/968 Expansion
L/WS/1/969–70 Chief of Staff Committee 1945–1946
L/WS/1/999 Reorganisation Post-war Army in India 1945
L/WS/1/1000 Plan 113 1947
L/WS/1/1001 Plan 113
L/WS/1/1002 Post War Army in India 1945–1946
L/WS/1/1008–11 Indian Political Situation 1945–1947
L/WS/1/1023–7 Future Employment of Gurkha Rifles
L/WS/1/1029–30 Willcox Committee
L/WS/1/1045 Chiefs of Staff Committee Minutes
L/WS/1/1057 Operation Madhouse 1947
L/WS/1/1058 Breakdown Plan 1946
L/WS/1/1068 War Organisation Army in India 1946–1947
L/WS/1/1069–70 Political Intelligence 1946–1947
L/WS/1/1072–4 Political Intelligence 1947–1949
L/WS/1/1088–9 Joint Intelligence Bureau 1946–1949
L/WS/1/1096–7 Chiefs of Staff 1946–1947
L/WS/1/1113 Reorganisation of the Indian Army 1947
L/WS/1/1125 Commander-in-Chief Weekly Conference 1947
L/WS/1/1134–5 Report on the PBF
L/WS/1/1137 Stand Down 1947
L/WS/1/1243–4 Operations in India 1942–1947
L/WS/1/1310 Army in India: Indian Light Division
L/WS/1/1313 Reorganisation of the Burma Army

L/WS/1/1323 Operations in Burma

L/WS/1/1333 Army in India: Organisation of A and MT Divisions
L/WS/1/1364 Formations of Training Divisions in India
L/WS/1/1365 Army in India: Re-organisation of Indian Infantry
L/WS/1/1366 Indianisation
L/WS/1/1371 Report of the Indian Infantry Committee June 1943
L/WS/1/1414 Strength Returns 1945–1948
L/WS/1/1433 Intelligence Summaries
L/WS/1/1449 Command of Staff Appointments in Indian and Pakistan
Commands
L/WS/1/1471–2 Commander-in-Chief Meetings 1945–1947
L/WS/1/1488–9 Organisation of Post War Army in India 1945–1948
L/WS/1/1506 India Command Weekly Intelligence Summaries 1945–1947
L/WS/1/1511–13 Burma/Assam Operations and Despatches
L/WS/1/1519 Organisation of Army HQ and Commands in India 1945–
1949
L/WS/1/1523–4 Army in India: Army Commanders Conference
L/WS/1/1576 Indian National Army
L/WS/1/1577 Indian National Army
L/WS/1/1578 India and Burma Committee Minutes
L/WS/1/1597–8 Monthly reports India 1947–1948
L/WS/1/1599–1600 Monthly reports Pakistan 1947–1948
L/WS/1/1603 Notes for Lectures by General Staff, India Office
L/WS/1/1608 Vetting of Articles Written by Ex-Indian Army Officers
L/WS/1/1619 Monthly Statistical Review of Authorised Expansion of Indian
Army 1945–1946
L/WS/1/1635–7 India Command on Morale 1943–1948
L/WS/1/1653 Director of Infantry Report
L/WS/1/1666 Discipline in Pakistan Army 1948
L/WS/1/1672 Officers with Indian Army 1948
L/WS/1/1673 Officers with Pakistan Army 1948
L/WS/1/1692 Burma Operations 1942
L/WS/1/1711 INA Reports
L/WS/1/1771 Indian National Army
L/WS/2/45 History of the INA
L/WS/2/46 Indian National Army
L/WS/2/71 Morale Reports: India Command and SEAC

India Office Papers, British Library (OIOC, BL): manuscripts

Mss Eur A168 Freda Oliver
Mss Eur C235 Sir Charles Tegart
Mss Eur C282 Harold Bruce
Mss Eur C290 William Channing Pearce
Mss Eur C302 Lawrence Patrick Biggie
Mss Eur C357 5th Earl of Listowel
Mss Eur C363 William Francis Alfred Hamilton
Mss Eur C402 Leslie Rich

Mss Eur C416 Col Peter Green

Mss Eur C430 Revd John Robert De Chazal
Mss Eur C475 Lt Col Sydney Heard
Mss Eur C501 Basil Richard Emile La Bouchardiere
Mss Eur C642 Misc. Papers in the Writing of the History of the
Indian Police
Mss Eur D807 Sir Evan Jenkins
Mss Eur D862 Richard Powell
Mss Eur D917 Lt Col R. N. P. Reynolds
Mss Eur D1003 John Morton
Mss Eur D1041 Indian Police
Mss Eur D1044 Robert Evelyn Cooper Broadbent
Mss Eur D1060 Alan Flack
Mss Eur D1065 William Harold Rich
Mss Eur D1114 Brig. Frank McCallum
Mss Eur D1225 Maj. Derek Hawes
Mss Eur D1233 Herbert William Waite
Mss Eur D1241 John Eadie Bishop
Mss Eur E323 John Adam Scroggie
Mss Eur F152 Frank Brayne
Mss Eur F161 Indian Police
Mss Eur F164 Sir Robert Francis Mudie
Mss Eur F189 Maj. John Short
Mss Eur F200 Mountbatten Papers
Mss Eur F250 Gilbert Waddell
Mss Eur F251 Ian Murray Hurrell
Mss Eur F255 Harold Charles Mitchell
Mss Eur F274 Maj. Gen. Pete Rees
Mss Eur F409 George Brander
Mss Eur Photo Eur 436 Gerald Robert Savage, Punjab Police
Mss Eur R144 Lt Col Brian Montgomery

India Office Papers, British Library (OIOC, BL): oral archives

Mss Eur T3 Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck
Mss Eur T58 Lt Gen. Sir Reginald Savory
Mss Eur T95/2 Lt Gen. Harbarkash Singh
Mss Eur T102/2 Col Khushwaqt ul Mulk

National Archives, Kew (PRO)

DO 133
WO 32
WO 106
WO 169
WO 171
WO 172
WO 203
WO 204

WO 268
WO 305

Imperial War Museum (IWM)

Brig. E. A. Ardene 97/7/1
Lt Gen. Philip Christison Papers
Maj. Gen. A. C. Curtis Papers
Brig. H. K. Dimoline Papers
Lt Gen. Geoffrey Evans Papers
Lt Col W. L. Farrow 95/33/1
Lt Col John Hill 91/13/1
Maj. Gen. A. W. Holworthy 91/40/1
Maj. P. H. Gadsdon 78/6/2
Maj. H. C. Gay 88/48/1
Brig. P. R. MacNamara 77/32/1
Gen. Robert Mansergh Papers
Brig. L. R. Mizen 71/63/1
Maj. P. B. Poore
Maj. D. C. Purves 87/23/1
Maj. Gen. Denys Reid PP MCR 06 Reel 7
Maj. Gen. J. K. Shepheard 99/69/1
Col G. R. Stevens 67/31/1
Lt Gen. Sir Francis Tuker 71/21
Broadcast Tapes of BBC (Mandalay)

National Army Museum (NAM)

Gen. Sir Roy Bucher Papers
Lt Col A. J. F. Doulton
Gen. Sir Robert Lockhart Papers
Maj. H. R. MacDwyer Papers
Maj. Gen. L. E. Pert Papers
Gen. Sir Reginald Savory Papers
Army in India Training Memoranda
Intelligence Notes from Burma 1943–1945 GHQ India
Indian Military Intelligence Directorate ‘Japanese in Battle’ 1943
Southeast Asia Translation and Interrogation Centre Historical Bulletin nos.
243 and 245
Diary of Anthony Bickersteth (4/8th Gurkhas)
Diary of Lt Col John Hill
ODTAA: Diary of a Major in the 4/10th Gurkhas
Diary of 5/11th Sikh 8 December 1941–15 February 1942 (Malaya)
War Diary of 8/6th Rajputana Riﬂes Mss
6509-14 5/2nd Punjab Malaya Ts History
7304-1-2 Jungle Warfare School at Shimoga
7707-35 Hindu–Muslim Violence
7709-64-2 2/13th FFRiﬂes ‘War History’ Mss

7711-232 ‘With the 4th Sikhs’ (4/12th FFR) Lt Col I. A. J. Edwards-Stuart

Mss.
7809-3 Maj. P. H. MacDwyer
8002-68 Col J. C. Cotton
8012-63 14/13th FFRiﬂes Ts History
8204-797 Papers relating to Maj. Gen. D. A. Wade
8303-110 IV and XXXIII Corps

Liddell Hart Centre for Military Archives

Lt Gen. Sir Frank Messervy Papers
Gen. Sir Douglas Gracey Papers
Maj. Gen. John Lethbridge Papers
Gen. Sir Richard O’Connor Papers
Lt Col Hamilton Stevenson Papers

University of Manchester
Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck Papers

Interviews and correspondence

5th Probyn’s Horse
Brig. R. Khan LOM MC
Brig. A. Singh
Maj. H. E. I. C. Stewart MC
Capt. J. Chiles
Capt. E. M. Halliwell
Capt. R. Jones
Honorary Capt. H. Nawaz
Risaldar A. Khan
7th Light Cavalry
Brig. H. Singh
Lt Col H. Singh
Capt. L. Dormer
Capt. F. Jemmett
Capt. H. Travis
Capt. G. A. Sipthorp
11th Prince Albert Victor’s Own Cavalry (FF)
Maj. E. P. Marsden
Royal Indian Artillery
Lt Gen. K. P. Candeth PVSM
Royal Indian Engineers
Maj. Gen. B. D. Kapur
Maj. Gen. L. Singh
Brig. G. Singh

King George V’s Own Bengal Sappers and Miners

Maj. T. Le M. Spring-Smyth

Bombay Sappers and Miners

Brig. D. A. Barker-Wyatt
Brig. Colin Cowan CBE
Lt Col D. L. Jones
Lt Col W. L. Sheldon
Maj. A. N. Fradgley MBE
Maj. P. H. James
Capt. John R. Moss

1st Punjab Regiment

Maj. Gen. E. H. W. Grimshaw CB CBE DSO
Maj. Gen. A. K. Luthera MC
Brig. M. R. Dutt MC
Brig. M. I. Qureshi
Maj. J. Arthur MC
Maj. R. C. S. Howe
Maj. C. H. Manning
Maj. D. Pailthorpe
Maj. A. H. Robertson
Capt. M. A. Kerr MBE

2nd Punjab Regiment

Brig. C. S. Mehta
Lt Col J. D. Montagu
Maj. R. E. J. Mathew
Capt. Peter Gutterridge
Capt. A. L. de Montfort OBE
Capt. R.T. Rowland QC
Capt. P. L. Roy

3rd Madras Regiment

Maj. T. A. J. Barton
Maj. W. Brindley

4th Bombay Grenadiers

Lt Gen. S. L. Menezes PVSM SC
Lt Col P. Emerson OBE

6th Rajputana Riﬂes

Col B. D. Bhanot
Maj. M. C. Henstock
Maj. F. D. Rushworth
Capt. Tom Simpson
Capt. H. K. Tarrant

7th Rajput Regiment

Brig. R. B. Chopra
Capt. S. Ottowell
8th Punjab Regiment
Maj. Gilbert Garrett
Capt. W. C. Hawes
9th Jat Regiment
Maj. R. Baldwin
10th Baluch Regiment
Maj. Gen. D. K. Palit VrC
Maj. Gen. S. C. S. Singha
Brig. N. K. Chatterji
Brig. M. Jan
Brig. J. Randle OBE MC
Col John Perkin
Maj. T. Bruin
Maj. R. MacLean OBE
Maj. C. Martin MC
Capt. A. D. Burnett
Capt. F. W. D. King
Lt C. R. L. Coubrough
11th Sikh Regiment
Maj. Gen. S. Singh
Col J. Brough DSO MBE MC
Lt Col W. L. Farrow
Lt Col C. H. McVean MC
Lt Col E. Rowland-Jones
Lt Col R. Schlaefli
Maj. T. Kirkwood
12th Frontier Force Regiment
Maj. J. Beazley
Maj. Gen. N. Prasad
Maj. R. Williams
Capt. P. Barrett
Capt. V. I. Murtough
13th Frontier Force Rifles
Lt Gen. K. S. Katoch PVSM
Maj. Gen. H. N. Shinjal
Lt Col M. Wilcox
Maj. P. Bailey
Maj. G. C. Coppen MC
Maj. A. Delafield MC
Maj. D. Lamond

Maj. R. F. Mummery
Maj. Peter Riches (aide-de-camp to Maj. Gen. Pete Rees)
Maj. F. W. S. Taylor
Capt. (Sir) G. Elliott
Capt. R. Guild
Capt. L. Howlett
Capt. (Dr) D. W. Jenkins
Capt. P. Pattullo
Capt. J. R. Wallis MC
Capt. D. Wright

14th Punjab Regiment

Lt Col C. E. N. Hopkins-Husson
Maj. V. L. F. Davin
Maj. Peter Gadsdon
Maj. M. G. Wilks
Capt. G. W. R. Garrett
Capt. A. C. Stanley
Capt. D. H. Vickers

16th Punjab Regiment

Lt Col Ronald Perkin

17th Dogra Regiment

Maj. Christopher Blake

18th Garhwal Riﬂes

Capt. W. Nichols

1st Burma Riﬂes

Maj. Gen. J. D. Lunt

Indian Parachute Regiment

Maj. Gen. S. C. Sinha PVSM

Sikh Light Infantry

Col J. D. Maling DSO MC
Capt. H. C. T. Routley

4th Gurkha Riﬂes

Lt Col J. Craig
Maj. M. R. Strivens
Maj. P. Sibree
Capt. D. Jeffrey
Capt. R. Steel
Revd D. Bevis

5th Royal Gurkha Riﬂes (Frontier Force)

Maj. G. E. Seppings

8th Gurkha Riﬂes

Brig. P. Myers MC
Maj. S. Gilmore
Maj. P. Wickham
Capt. P. Davis
Capt. W. A. Dodd
Capt. F. Seaman
10th Gurkha Riﬂes
Lt Col M. Roberts
Royal Berkshire Regiment
Col J. Hill MC
Maj. J. Caldicott TD

priva tely pub lishe d, per sonal dia ries, m iscellane ou s m ss

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Experiences of a Sapper Subaltern with the 2nd Indian Airborne Division’,
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Blomﬁeld-Smith, Denis, ed. Fourth Indian Reﬂections. 1987.
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Murtough, V. I. ‘Recollections of my war’. Mss 1970s.
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Roberts, Michael. Field diary dealing with operations in 1944.
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Abell, G. E. B., 170 concerns over occupation zones, 153,

Aiyar, Swarna, 316, 335 156–7, 165, 167, 170, 186, 193, 198
Alanbrooke, Lord, 76, 166, 193, 274 concerns over Transfer of Power
Alexander of Tunis, Earl, Field Marshal, announcement, 289–90
57, 76 criticised by colleagues, 138–9, 265
Alexander, Horace, 220 criticisms of Chatﬁeld Report, 43
Amery, Leo, 80, 91, 103, 107, 241–2 dealings with Indian politicians, 1946–7,
comments on/dealings with Auchinleck, 207
57, 78, 86–7, 109 end of tenure, 343–8
criticisms of London government, 91–2, fears for (post-independence) future,
109 250–2, 266, 270, 343, 345, 347
favourable comments on Indian troops, ﬁnal report, 344–5
63, 96 handling of civil unrest (1946–7), 203
role in Indianisation process, 98–9 handling of demobilisation, 241, 243, 247
Amritsar Massacre (1919), 38, 40, 208, 210 handling of INA trials, 119, 130–1,
Anderson, Perry, 1 133–8, 140–2, 147–50
Arakan region (Burma) handling of North African campaigns, 54
Allied counteroffensive, 71, 73, 124 handling of Punjab crisis (1947), 302,
Allied reverses in, 68–9 309, 312, 316, 321
Ardene, E. A., Brig., 62 Indian politicians’ attacks on, 266, 269,
artillery units, development of, 32 271–2, 344, 346
assamis, 36 Indian politicians’ positive assessments
Attlee, Clement, 137, 193, 203–4, 234, of, 247
247, 276, 285 misjudgements of political situation, 131,
statement on Transfer of Power, 288–9, 295 265, 349
Auchinleck, Sir Claude, Field Marshal, objections to Breakdown Plan, 233–4
33, 84, 98, 145, 266, 273, 303, 342 opposition to division of army, 254–5,
1936 reform proposals, 41–2 257–8, 265–6
acceptance/handling of partition, 258–9 opposition to release of INA prisoners,
and famine relief, 109 285–7
anti-discriminatory measures, 84, 86–7, plans for Gurkhas, 274, 277
90, 94 plans for post-war army, 94–5, 98–9, 112,
appointment to India Command, 57, 70, 136–7, 142, 246, 249
86, 92–3 progressive approach, 4, 76, 351
biographical background, 41 proposals for nationalisation/division,
change of departure date, 345–6 248–9, 261–7, 280
comments on civil–military situation, recruitment policy, 78–81
1946–7, 205, 217, 222, 226, 235, refusal of peerage, 347
308–9, 319, 321, 323, 332 sense of failure/betrayal, 343–4, 346–7
comments on Indianisation, 121–42 Supreme Command of joint force, 267,
comments on loyalty/morale, 113–14, 345 269–70

375

Auchinleck, Sir Claude, Field Marshal Burhanuddin, Mohammed, Capt., 140

(cont.) Burma, see Arakan region; First Burma
tributes from military colleagues, 70, 85, campaign; Second Burma campaign
94, 97, 263, 347–8 Burrows, Sir Frederick John, 221, 291
Ayyangar, Sir N. Gopalaswami, 251
Azad Hind Fauj, see Indian National Army Cabinet Mission, 203–4
Azad, Dr Abul Kalam, 111 major parties’ objections to, 206
Calcutta, violence in (1946–7), 290–5
Barkawi, Tarak, 100 August 1946 riots, 215–22
Barker-Wyatt, D. A., Brig., 325–6 casualties, 219–20
Barton, T. A. J., Maj., 79 early reports/responses, 217–18
Bayly, Christopher, Prof., 118 involvement of ex-army/INA members,
Bell, J. C., Lt Col, 341 218, 220
Bengal, see Bengal Army; Bengal famine; performance of army, 221–2, 294–5
Calcutta; East Bengal political background, 215–16
Bengal Army, 9 strengthening of military presence, 293
class structure (to 1840), 7–8 Callahan, Raymond, Prof., 76
post-war calls for, 259 Campbell-Johnson, Alan, 330
recruitment practices, 8–10 Candeth, K.P., Lt Gen., 29, 95, 97
suppression of Mutiny (1857), 9 Cariappa, Kodendera Madappa, Brig., 253,
Bengal famine (1943), 107–10 257, 272
casualties, 108 Cassels, Sir Robert, Gen., 41, 84, 86, 102
Government of India’s response, 108–9 Cassino, 1st–4th battles for, 60–2
London government’s indifference, 109 cavalry units,
military relief operation, 109 see also assamis
provincial government’s failure to deal costs of equipment, 35
with, 108 inter-war reforms, 37
Bevin, Ernest, 234–5 irregular, 23
Bhanot, B. D., Col, 251, 268 organisational problems, 35–6
Bien Hoa, battle of (Jan. 1946), 173 Central India Horse Regiment, 1940
Bihar, violence in (1946–7) ‘mutiny’, 102
‘Anti-Smuggling Corps’, 292 Central Java, 183–5
casualties, 226 conflicts with nationalist groups, 184–5,
deployment of troops, 227–8 189
evacuation of refugees, 229 relations with Japanese, 184
foreshadowings, 226–7 Chamberlain, Neville, 48
October 1946 outbreak, 226–30 Chatfield Committee/Report, 42
responsibility of local/national criticisms, 43
government, 228–9 Chatterjee, A. J., Maj. Gen., 154
resumption of hostilities (March 1947), 291 Chetwode, Sir Philip, Gen., 46
scale of violence, 227 Chopra, R. B., Brig., 95, 97
Bombay Army, recruitments, 13 Christison, Sir Philip, Lt Gen., 178–80,
Boon, George, Supt, 292 186, 189, 193, 195
Bose, Sarat Chandra, 286 Churchill, Winston, 76, 99, 109, 113, 238
Bose, Subhas Chandra, 117, 120, 122–8 criticisms of Indian Army, 68, 77, 80, 91,
Breakdown Plan, 232–4 107
objections to, 233–4 Indian Army officers’ objections to, 107,
role of army, 233 109
Briggs, Harold, Maj. Gen., 56 civil power, aid to, see internal security
Bristow, R. C. B., Brig., 2, 40, 127, 190, civil war (1947), 4, 273, 343, 345
197, 324, 327, 330–1, 335 civil–military co-operation
Brown, Judith, Prof., 103 breakdown, 325–6
Bruce, J. C., Maj. Gen., 5, 351 definitions/procedures, 210–11, 213,
Bucher, Roy, Maj. Gen., 216, 218–19, 301
221–2, 225 problems of, 210–11

Coalition Government (Punjab) military opposition, 254–5, 258, 265–6,

composition, 296 268, 340
criticisms/proposals for reform, 296, 299 Muslim demands for, 255–6, 260, 265
dissolution, 298–9 official announcement, 264
need for, 299 phases of, 267
Cockin, C. M., Maj., 133 rejection of proposals, 257
Colville, Sir John, 306 restrictions on Muslim/Hindu service,
Condon, W. E. H., Col, 171, 174, 195–6 268
Copland, Ian, Prof., 284, 335–6 secret plans for, 255
Cotton, J. C., Col, 336 shift in government position, 258–9
courts martial, see trials of INA members Dogras, transfer/division of army units,
Cowan, David ‘Punch’, Maj. Gen., 30, 67 341–2
crowds, defined as hostile, 219 Dow, Sir Hugh, 226–7, 230
Cunningham, Alan, Gen., 54 Dunn, Maj., 86
Cunningham, Sir George, Governor, Dutch forces (in Java), indiscipline of, 182
134–5, 250 Duties in the Aid of the Civil Power (1937
manual), 208–9
Das, Rai Bahadur Badri, 130 see also Military Training Pamphlet No.11
Das, Suranjan, 215, 335 Dutt, M. R. Lt Col, 94
Davis, Patrick, Capt., 197
demobilisation, 4, 239–48 East Bengal, violence in (October 1946),
cash grants, 241 222–6
delays, 243 authorities’ pro-Muslim bias, 225
demobbed soldiers’ role in 1946–7 casualties, 225
violence, 201, 218, 279, 283, 297–8, East India Company, 23
301, 350 recruitment practices, 7
employment following, 244 Eastern Java, 185–92
fears over impact on society, 241, 245 British/Indian captures, 187
flaws in procedure, 279 conflict with local forces, 188–9, 191–2
intended numbers, 247 deployment of British/Indian troops,
land grants, 241 185–6, 190
of officers, 248–9, 252, 307–8 failure of communication between HQ
post-1918, 17–18 and ground troops, 188
re-enlistment following, 247–8 murder of British officers, 189–90
skills training, 245 talks with local leaders, 186–9
specific procedures, 244 Eden Commission report (1879), 10
Desai, Shri Bhulabhai, 130, 132 Ekin, R., Maj. Gen., 227
desertions, 3, 110–11, 114 engineering units, 11
in Indonesia, 195–7 Evans, Sir Geoffrey, Gen., 50
Dewey, Thomas, Lt Col, 164
Dhillon, G. S., Lt (Col), 126, 131, 138 first Burma campaign (1941–2), 3, 66–8,
Din, Hayaud, Lt Col, 171 113
District Soldier Boards (DSBs), 18–19 lessons learned from, 68–70, 73
division (of army), 340–2 First World War
acceleration of process, 260–1, 264 aftermath, 15–17, 21, 35–7
appointment of new commanders-in- demobilisation following, 17–18
chief, 270–1 scale of Indian involvement, 14–15
complexity of issues, 261–2, 265, 280 Free India Legion, 117
Congress opposition to, 260 French Indo-China, Indian Army
difficulty of carrying out alongside occupation, 153, 158–74
nationalisation, 259–61 burning of buildings/villages, 169
disposition of units, 270–1 casualties, 169, 173
guiding principles, 267–8 civil authority, 160
initial proposals, 240, 254 conduct of French troops, 163
joint (interim) control, 266–7 conflict with nationalist groups, 168–74

French Indo-China, Indian Army Haig, H. G., Governor, 48

occupation (cont.) Haines, Sir Frederick, 10
delineation of zones, 158–9 Hamid, Shahid, Maj. Gen., 141–2, 144,
increase in violence, 164, 167 149, 224, 245, 251, 263, 307–8, 316,
objectives, 160, 162 344
operational difficulties, 160–2 Hamilton, G. J., Maj. Gen., 34
(plans for) withdrawal, 167, 172–4 Hastings, Robin, 34
response in India, 194 Hawthorn, D. C., Maj. Gen., 188–9, 319
similarities with Burma campaigns, 173 Himatsinhji, K. S., Col, 132, 142
similarities with Netherlands East Indies Hindus
operation, 175 organised violence by, 230–1
French troops, in Indo-China prohibition on service in Pakistan Army,
arrival, 168–9 268
complaints of indiscipline, 163, 170, 172 violence directed against, 219–20
handover of control to, 171–4 Hiroshima, bombing of, 155
Fujiwara, Iwaichi, Maj., 119, 121 Ho Chi Minh, 154, 160
Holworthy, A. W., Maj. Gen., 63
Gandhi, Mohandas K. (Mahatma), 18, 100, Horrocks, Lt Gen., 58
103, 303 Howlett, Hank, Capt., 82, 97
hunger strikes, 104
Garhmukteswar, violence in (Nov. 1946), Imperial Cadet Corps, 7
230–2 Imperial Japanese Army
Gates, L. D., Maj., 169 disarmament, 153, 169
Gaylor, John, 341 post-war use for security purposes, 161
George VI, King, 137, 145 relations with British (post-war), 161,
Government of India Act 1919, 25 171, 174
Government of India Act 1935, 35, 47 relations with INA, 119–25
Gracey, Sir Douglas, Maj. Gen., 159–66, security duties in occupied zones, 184
170–4, 347 support for anti-colonial movements,
Griffiths, Sir Percival, 319–20 165, 175–7, 182–3
Grigg, Sir J., 99 Imperial Policing (manual), see Gwynn,
Grimshaw, E. H. W., Maj. Gen., 33, 97 Charles
Gupta, Brig., 97 Imphal plain (Burma), fighting in, 71–3,
Gurgaon region, disturbances in, 306–9 124–5
see also Meo rising casualties, 125
Gurkhas, 8 Indian Army
as special case, 274 (alleged) communal bias, 340
British–Indian negotiations over, 276–7 class composition, 13, 16, 37, 112, 243
deployment in Punjab, 331 commanders’ commendations, 147, 201,
discussions on post-independence role, 221–2, 226, 351
273–8 concluding ceremonies, 272–3
distribution among national armies, condition in 1939, 43
277–8, 342 conduct in difficult circumstances, 150,
internal security role, 218 197–9
language, 87–8 divisions, 13–14
lateness of decision on, 278 education/literacy levels, 19
(near-)mutiny (Nov. 1947), 342 esprit de corps, 19–20
plans for transfer to British Army, 275–6 final order, 273
post-1948 service in Far East, 275 impact of Second World War, 2–4, 44–7,
recruitment, 9, 273, 277 112–14
relations with British officers, 88 impossible demands placed on, 348–9
role in Central Java, 183 inter-war reorganisations, 35–7, 41–3
role in Western Java, 182–3 lack of communalism, 229–30, 234–7,
Gwynn, Charles, Maj. Gen., Imperial 239
Policing, 208–10 language of commands, 88

military decorations, 154 recruitment base/numbers, 117, 119–20,

numerical strength, 247 123
organisational flaws, 35 reorganisation, 122–3
overseas deployment (post-war), 244 secondary role to IJA, 123–4
peacetime mandate, 37–9, 41–2 see also trials of INA members
post-war reorganisation, 239 Indian National Congress (party), 18
professionalism, 2–4, 45–7, 65, 76, attitudes to 1946–7 violence, 226, 228–9,
113–14, 154, 198–9, 212, 234–7, 232
240, 334–7, 350–1 boycotting of army parade, 145
progressive nature of leadership, 4, 76 criticisms of army, 303
proposals for post-war size/role, 242–3 disputes with Muslim League, 206
regional commands, 201 imprisonment of leaders, 204
relationship with Congress, 20 military indifference to, 103, 107
repatriation of British personnel, 156–7 opposition to Indian involvement in war,
response to post-war political 47, 103, 204
developments, 206 pre-partition talks, 204–5
wartime expansion/difficulties, 51–3, 77, relations with army, 20, 107
82–3, 104, response to naval mutiny, 144
see also demobilisation; division; stance on South East Asian occupation,
Indianisation; nationalisation; officer 153
corps; recruitment practices; Second support for INA, 129–30, 132, 150
World War see also Quit India movement;
Indian Cadet College, Indore, 24 names of individual politicians especially
Indian Civil Service, 33–4, 202 Nehru
breakdown during 1947 violence, Indian officers
310–11, 314 acceptance in new posts, 30–1
manpower shortages, 283 admission to Sandhurst, 25
Indian Independent League, 119 allegations of communal bias, 301
relations with INA, 122 command posts in field, 23
Indian Military Academy (Dehra Dun), 87 difficulty of recruitment, 251–2
courses/student quotas, 29 disciplinary powers, 90–2
creation, 28–9 discrimination against, 25, 34, 83, 94
quality of intake, 251–2 eligibility for commissions, 24–5
training officers, 30 lack of senior command posts, 253–4
Indian Mutiny (1857), 9, 23, 208 mistrust, 24
Indian National Army, 4, 34, 72, 113 personal recollections, 96–8
Allied counter-propaganda, 138 political views, 33–4, 101–3, 115, 206, 230
battlefield performance, 118, 124–5 ranks/terminology, 22
calls for release of prisoners, 284–8 rates of pay, see pay, rates of
casualties, 125 relations with British colleagues, 96–7
classification of prisoners, 128–9 restricted to command of Indian troops,
defections from, 124, 127 28–9
defections to, 28 service with British regiments, 30
disintegration/surrender, 127 shortage of applicants, 28, 32
dissolution of first version, 122 training, 88, 95–6
ex-members’ role in 1946–7 violence, Indianisation, processes of, 3, 22–5, 32
118–19, 135, 220, 292 attitudes of COs, 30–1
Indian Army attitudes to, 126 criticisms/flaws, 31–2
(limitations of) officer training, 123 desertions in protest at, 121–42
nationalist politicians’ attitudes to, 118 eight-unit scheme, 25–8
proclamation of Provisional Government, criticisms, 27
122–3 placement of officers, 27
propaganda, 125 proposal, 26
reasons for failure, 123 recruitment policy, 26–7
reasons for joining, 120–42 selected units, 26

Indianisation, processes of (cont.) mutinies among, 77, 101–2

extent of progress, 32–3, 43–4 (presumed) military qualities, 11, 17
fulfilment of pre-war plans, 88–90 recruitment, 17, 77
instructional pamphlets, 89–90 Java, see Central Java; Eastern Java; Western
organisational issues, 90–2 Java
personal recollections, 96–8 Jenkins, Sir Evan, 221, 294, 296–9, 302–4,
post-war completion, 98–9, 239, 248–9 306, 309–11, 320
response of London government, 99 commendations of army, 321
selection of units, 30 criticism of nationalist leaders, 317
timescale of transition, 98, 113 self-contradiction, 332–3
wartime, 77, 82–96, 113 Jinnah, Muhammad Ali, 148, 204–5, 215, 260
Indonesia, see Netherlands East Indies calls for military intervention, 302
infantry units demands for military action, 310–11, 347
inter-war reorganisation, 37 meetings with British leaders, 256–8, 266
platoonisation, 31–2 jungle warfare
Interim Government inexperience of Indian Army, 69, 124
composition, 206–7 training for, 67, 69–70
formation, 207, 215
handling of INA issue, 284–8 Kalha, Sarbjit Singh, Lt Col, 153
plans for, 205–6 Katoch, K. S., Lt Gen., 30, 97
requests for Gurkha troops, 275 Keren, battle of, 49
internal security, 6, 279 Khan, Akbar, Brig., 257
army exercise (1946), 212 Khan, Liaquat Ali, 256, 258, 265, 286,
co-operation between services, 39–40 306–7, 346
distinguished from war, 212–13 Khan, Mohammad Ayub, Brig. (later
effectiveness, 41 president), 332
governing principles, 209 Khan, Mohammad Sher, Col, 339–40
intelligence gathering, 219 Khan, Sher Ali, Lt Col, 33, 94
inter-war incidents, 39–41 Khan, Yasmin, 299
manuals/guidelines, 102–3, 212–13 Kido, Maj., 183
military procedures, 40 Kirby, S. Woodburn, Maj. Gen., 174
phases of military involvement, 209 Kirti Lehar group, 101–2
(theoretical) role of army, 207–14, 233 Kitchener, Earl, Field Marshal, 13
vital role of army, 202–3 Korla, Siri Kanth, Maj., 86, 94
wartime use of troops for, 68, 106 Kudaisya, Gyanesh, Dr, 41
see also civil–military co-operation;
minimum force Lawford, J. P., Lt Col, 341
Internal Security Instructions (1937), 208, 211 Lawson, Jack, Secretary of State for War,
Iran, see Persia 166, 177, 180
Iraq, fighting in (1941–2), 51–2 Leclerc, Philippe, Gen., 165, 167, 171–2
Ismay, Lord, 260, 264–5, 345 ‘Lectures for Officers Joining the Indian
Italian campaign (1943-5), 59–64 Army’ (pamphlet), 89
battles for Cassino, 60–2 Legislative Assembly, creation of, 25
fighting in Adriatic sector, 62–3 Linlithgow, Marquess of, 48, 70, 91–2,
Iwakuro, Hideo, Col, 121 104–8, 242
Listowel, Earl, 276
Jalal, Ayesha, 245 Lockhart, Sir Rob, Gen., 143, 145, 247–8,
James, P. H., Maj., 326 268, 270, 309, 323, 344, 347
Jammu/Kashmir crisis (Oct.–Nov. 1947), loyalty (of Indian troops), 1, 100–10
346–7 concerns expressed over, 104, 147
Japanese Empire, post-war occupation, impact of INA trials, 136
see South-East Asia personal vs ideological, 120
Jat Sikhs vouched for by senior officers, 104
demobilisation, 245 Luthera, A. K., Maj. Gen., 97
involvement in 1946–7 violence, 283–4 Lyne, Lewis, Maj. Gen., 276

MacArthur, Douglas, Gen., 155, 157–8 Montagu-Chelmsford Report (1918), 21, 24

Macartney, Fergus, Lt Col, 316, 327 Monte Cassino, battle of, see Cassino
MacKinlay, James Patrick, Brig., 215, 220 Montgomery of Alamein, Viscount, Field
MacMunn, Sir George, Maj. Gen., 27 Marshal, 57–9, 76, 275, 277, 293
Madras Army morale, 110–12
downsizing, 12 during 1946–7 violence, 229–30
mistrust among senior officers, 11–12 impact of INA trials, 131–2, 135, 139,
post-First World War divisions, 16 141, 147–9, 196
Madras, recruitment from, 80 impact of Punjab crisis, 305, 307–8, 345
Malayan campaign (1941), 3, 65–6, 113, 121 in Indonesia, 196
reasons for failure, 65–6 (non-)impact of naval mutiny, 144–5
Malik, Col, 130 Moreman, Tim, 66
Maling, John, Col, 29 Morton, S., Supt, 301
Mallaby, A. W. S., Brig., 185–9 Mountbatten, Lord Louis, Admiral, 70,
murder/repercussions, 189–90 156, 195, 248, 257
Manekshaw, S.H.J.F. ‘Sam’, Capt. (later assumption of viceroyalty, 289
Field Marshal), 30, 86 brokering of release of INA prisoners,
Mansergh, E. C., Maj. Gen., 190–5 287–8
Manual of Military Law (1929), 210 comments on civil authorities, 319–20
martial law handling of Auchinleck’s departure, 344–7
debates on, in 1947 Punjab, 301–2, 313 handling of events in occupied zones,
imposition in inter-war period, 208 155, 156–7, 162, 164, 167, 171,
martial race theory, 8, 10–12, 15–17, 29 178–9, 189, 193
moves away from, 78–81 handling of partition, 256–67, 269–72,
Mason, Philip, 98, 138 276, 292, 294, 308, 323
Maunsell, F. K. S., Brig., 162, 174 meetings with Indian leaders, 256–8, 266
Member for Defence or War, position of, 207 moves to contain violence, 303–5,
Meo rising (March 1947), 306–7 310–11, 314, 321–2
Messervy, Frank, Lt Gen., 54, 247–8, 270, Mudie, Sir Francis, 145, 326, 337
300–2, 310, 312–13, 347 Muslim League, 18
Middle East, Indian successes (1940–1), attitudes to 1946–7 violence, 225–6,
51–2 228–9, 232
see also Iraq; Persia calls for division of army, 255–6, 260, 265
Military Evacuation Organization, 339 calls for independent state, 204
Military Training Pamphlet No. 11 (‘Notes calls for military intervention, 306
on Training for Duties in the Aid to disputes with Congress, 206
the Civil Power 1941’), 211 electoral successes, 296
Military Training Pamphlet No. 11a paramilitaries (volunteers/guards), 297–8
(‘Platoon Commander’s Guide to rejection of Cabinet Mission plan, 215
Duties in the Aid to the Civil Power’, role in Interim Government, 207
1946), 212–13 support for war effort, 47, 204
minimum force, 209–10 talks with Congress, 204–5
(calls for) relaxation of standards, see also names of politicians especially
212–13, 230, 300, 310 Jinnah
definitions in military manuals, 210, Muslims
212–13 (in army), concerns as to loyalty, 17–18,
individual commanders’ interpretations, 301
229 (in army), development of nationalist
key principles, 213 sentiment, 324, 326
practical application, 210 military resources, 256
problems of definition, 208 organised violence by, 224
Moestopo, Dr, 186–8 prohibition on service in (new) Indian
Mohammad, Ishaq, Maj., 350 Army, 268
Molesworth, G. N., Gen., 79, 93 violence directed against, 219–20, 230–1,
Montagu, Sir Edward, 25 306–7, 318

mutinies, 101–2, 142–5 casualties, 195

suppression, 143, 214 desertions to nationalist side, 195–7
see also Royal Indian Navy mutiny disposition of British/Indian troops, 185
final plans/measures, 193–5
Nabha, Maharaja of, 284 handover to Dutch, 192
Nagano, Lt Gen., 186 interim administration, 192
Nair, M., Capt., 94 response in India, 186, 190–4
Nakamura, Kotaro, Maj. Gen., 183 scale of operation, 174
nationalisation (of Indian Army) shortage of intelligence reports, 177–9
advisory committee, 251 similarities with French Indo-China
calls for slowing down, 266, 280 operation, 175
Congress calls for, 268–9 see also Central Java; Eastern Java; Java;
dissatisfaction with process, 252–4 Western Java
first announcement, 249 Noronha, R. S., Maj., 73
need for British officers, 250–4, 261–2, North African campaign (1940–3), 49, 53–9
264, 269–70 Allied gains, 55–9
(projected) timescale, 253–4 Allied reverses, 53–6
nationalist movements, 18 role of Indian troops, 49–50, 54–9
clashes with military, 19–20 North-West Frontier, operations on, 38
colonialist counter-strategies, 19 ‘Notes for Guidance of Commanding
discontent with army, 43 Officers, Staff and Regimental
electoral gains, 35 Officers’ (pamphlet), 89–90
officers’ sympathies with, 19, 33–4,
102–3, 107, 115 O’Connor, Sir Richard, Lt Gen., 133, 250,
varying attitudes to war, 103 333, 345
see also Indian National Congress O’Dwyer, Sir Michael, Lt Governor, 15, 21
(party) officer corps
Nawaz, Shah, Capt., 131, 138 all-white composition, 22–3
Nehru, Jawarhalal, 34, 205 expansion, 6, 92–3
calls for military intervention, 298–300, post-war loss of numbers/experience,
301, 302, 310–11 248–52
calls for nationalisation, 268–9 post-war proposals for, 243
changes of position, 293, 298–9, 310–11 proportion of British to Indian officers,
comments on Punjab crisis, 332 89
criticisms of army/officers, 266–7, 271 see also Indian officers; Indianisation,
criticisms of INA, 266–7 processes of
criticisms of local government, 317 Omissi, David, Dr, 19, 39
defence of INA members, 130
discussions over INA trials, 148–50 Pakistan Army
failure to comprehend Indian Army, 150, calls for, 265
154, 246, 269 creation, 270
plans for post-independence Army, 246 numerical strength, 247–8
political use of INA, 118, 129–30, 150, Palit, D. K., Maj. Gen., 11, 31, 84, 97
154, 245, 286–8 partition
positive comments on army, 295 acceleration of process, 264
requests for non-use of British troops, announcement of plans for, 292, 308
293, 331 breakdown of law and order, 2, 4,
role in Interim Government, 207, 215, 118–19, 273, 322
229 see also Punjab, violence in
talks on partition/division of army, 260, governmental recognition of need for,
276 258–9
Nepal, Maharaja of, 274 Muslim calls for, 204
Netherlands East Indies, Indian Army outlining of plans for, 262–3
occupation, 153, 158, 174–81 prohibition of British military presence
attitudes of Dutch government, 180 following, 339

response of army, 2, 311, 349, Punjab

see also division (of army) partition, 268
Pathans recruitments from, 8–11, 15, 331
(alleged) ancestry, 11 Punjab and Bengal Boundary Commission,
raids on frontier, 38 308, 311
Patiala, Maharaja of, 284, 310 publication of findings, 322
Patterson, W. R., Rear-Admiral, 178 Punjab Boundary Force (PBF), 1–2,
pay, rates of 312–30
differential, 24 (alleged) communal bias, 318–19,
moves towards equalisation, 86–7, 90 329–32
Peel Commission, 9, 11 battles with police, 320
Perkin, John, Col, 252, 317 breakdown of relations with civil
Persia (Iran), fighting in (1941–2), 52 authorities, 325–6
Persia and Iraq Force (Paiforce), 52 casualties, 329
Pethick-Lawrence, Lord, 135, 219–20, 222, commendations by military/political
225, 229, 232, 234, 246, 275, 286 leaders, 282, 321–3, 329–31
and INA trials, 130 composition, 314
handling of civil unrest (1946–7), 203 conflicts with local paramilitaries, 282–4
handling of events in occupation zones, criticisms by politicians/media, 314, 322,
165, 167, 182, 191–3 329, 339
Phillips, William, 110–11 degree of success, 334–7
platoonisation, 31–2 disbandment, 284, 330, 339, 343
objections to, 32, 86 disputes with Princely States, 316
police final report, 333
active engagement in violence, 318, 320 formation, 268, 312
(alleged) communal bias, 290–1, 301, geographical/numerical demands, 320,
320, 328 334
(alleged) corruption, 219 internal conflicts/divisions, 320, 322–6,
commendations, 301 330
criticisms of efficiency, 218–20, 225, 227, media commentary, 332
237, 316, 320, 340 numerical strength, 334
fears for safety, 231, 237 planning specifics, 313
role in internal security operations, 217, problems with intelligence gathering,
292 316–17
self-justifications, 317 psychological strains on, 333–7
strikes/mutinies (March 1947), 291 racial/religious composition, 315
politics, separation from army life,112, 115, reasons for use of local troops, 331
279, 350 reinforcement, 321–2
see also Indian officers, political views; remit, 314–15
nationalist movements source of personnel, 314
Potter, David, 283 Punjab Disturbed Areas Act/Ordinance
Powell, Enoch, Brig. (later Rt Hon.), 98 1947, 302, 310
Prasad, N., Maj. Gen., 30–1 Punjab Irregular (later Frontier) Force, 9, 13
Princely States Punjab National Unionist Party
allegations against State Forces, 306 electoral reverses, 296
differences with PBF, 316 formation, 22
raising of arms/armies, 283–4 support for war effort, 47, 103, 204
private armies Punjab regional government
moves against, 297–8 criticisms, 317
role in 1947 violence, 296–8 elections, 296
see also Princely States sectarianism, 296
Pugh, Col, 187 see also Coalition Government (Punjab)
punishment, Indian officers’ powers of, 90–2 Punjab, violence in (1947), 201, 282–4,
governmental objections to, 91–2 295–312
granting of, 92 attacks on trains, 321

Punjab, violence in (1947) (cont.) Reynolds, R. N. P., Lt Col, 328

(attempted) border crossings, 322 Riches, Peter, Maj., 316
breakdown of civil administration, Ritchie, Neil, Gen., 54
210–11, 311, 316–17, 332–3, 348, Roberts of Kandahar, Lord, Field Marshal,
350 10–12, 22
casualties, 303 Rodham, C. H. B., Brig., 168
fears/foreshadowings, 236, 247–8 Rommel, Erwin, General, 53–7
impact on morale, 345 Roy, P. L., Mr, 96
increases in intensity, 317–18 Royal Air Force, mutinies among, 142–3
military reinforcement from other areas, Royal Indian Army Service Corps, 1939
309 mutiny, 101–2
performance of army, 2, 302–3, 305, Royal Indian Navy mutiny (1945), 143–5,
307–8, 334–7 214
political background, 295–6 casualties, 144
role of army/INA veterans, 297–8, 301 civil disturbance in support of, 144
role of private armies, 283–4, 296–8 suppression, 143–4
strategy for dealing with, 312 Rudra, A. A., Maj. Gen., 24–5, 27, 93–4
(temporary) containment, 302–3 rural areas, military ethos, 19–20
tension between major outbreaks, 304, Russell, E. H., Lt Col, 161, 167, 169
311–12
use of decommissioned weaponry, 298 Saghal, P. K., Capt., 131, 138
weaknesses in civil administration, Sandhurst Royal Military College, Indian
299–300 trainees at, 25
failure rates, 26
Quereshi, Ibrahim, Brig., 84 shortage of applicants, 28
Quetta, Indian Staff College, 95–6 Sapru, Sir Tej Bahadur, 130
Quit India movement, 68, 96, 104–7, 136 Savory, Sir Reginald, Lt Gen., 4, 29–30, 76,
governmental response, 105–7 146–7, 221, 254, 263, 268, 271–3,
linked with INA trials, 132 280, 324, 326, 329, 340, 342, 347–8
military response, 212 Scoones, Geoffrey, Lt Gen., 133, 254–5,
military suppression, 106 290, 343, 345
post-war legacy, 237 second Burma campaign (1944–5), 71–6,
112
Radcliffe, Sir Cyril, 308–9 Allied gains, 127
Ram, Sita, Subedar, 8 IJA/INA defences, 125–6
Rangoon impact on morale, 111
Allied recapture, 76 Japanese retreat, 73, 75
Japanese capture, 67 reasons for Allied success, 73, 76
Ranking, R. P. I., Maj. Gen., 223, 294 use of Indian reinforcements, 75
Rao, Shiva, 135 Second World War
Rashid, Abdul, Capt., 140 expansion/overstretching of Indian Army,
Rashtriya Swayam Sevak Sangh (militia), 231 51–3
Rawlinson, Sir Henry, Field Marshal, 26 impact on Indian Army, 2–4, 44–7,
Raza, A. M., Brig., 273 112–14
recruitment practices, 6 Indian losses, 77
bias towards northern India, 10–13 (initial) non-engagement of Indian
class divisions, 81 troops, 48
impact of First World War, 14–17 ‘phoney war’, 49
pre-1914, 6–14 recruitment policy/drives, 48–51, 77–82
streamlining of process, 15 significance of Indian role, 45, 64, 76
war-time, 48–9, 77–82 unilateral British involvement of India,
Rees, T. W. ‘Pete’, Maj. Gen., 1, 56, 47
282–337, 339 see under names of specific campaigns
refugees, protection of, 339–40 Semarang (Central Java), fighting around,
Reid, Denys, Maj. Gen., 62 185

Sharma, Gautum, Lt Col, 83, 94 controversial elements, 153

Shingal, H. N., Brig., 96 extent of British remit, 163
Showers, L. C. J, Lt Col, 59 performance of Indian Army, 197–9
Siddeq, Mahammed, Lt Col, 326 political complexities, 197–8
Sikhs political repercussions, 349
British talks with leaders, 310 poor relations between Allies, 157
(in Army), conflict with other troops, 326 response of nationalist politicians, 153
organised violence by, 316, 318 strategic context, 155–8
(presumed) military qualities, 11, 17 strategic flaws, 153, 198
recruitment to Bengal Army, 8 see also French Indo-China; Netherlands
transfer/division of Army units, 341–2 East Indies
violence directed against, 299, 303 Spector, Ronald, Prof., 156
see also Jat Sikhs Stewart, Brig., 319
Simon Commission on Army Recruitment Stopford, Sir Montagu, Lt Gen., 195–6
(1930), 16–17 Suhrawardy, Huseyn Shaheed, 225, 259,
Singh, Giani Pritam, 119 290
Singh, Gurbachan, Lt Col, 326 Sukarno, 175–6, 180, 189
Singh, Gurharpal, 202 Sumatra, occupation of, 181
Singh, Harbarkash, Lt Gen., 29–30 Sundaram, Chandar, 118
Singh, Kirpal, Dr, 1 Surabaya (Eastern Java), fighting in/around,
Singh, Mohan, Capt. (Maj. Gen.), 28, 184, 188–9, 191–2
119–22
Singh, Nand, Cpl, 71 Talbot, Prof. Ian, 202
Singh, Parkash, Jemadar, 74–5 tanks, use in IS operations, 219, 231
Singh, Sardar Baldev, 207, 236, 239, 251, Taunton, D. E., Brig., 167
269 Terauchi, Hisaichi, Field Marshal, 157, 171
arming of Sikh militants, 258, 304, 329 Thapar, Pran Nath, Brig., 224–5
attacks on Auchinleck, 271–2 Thimayya, Kodendera Subayya, Brig.,
demands for release of INA prisoners, 251–3, 257
284–7 Third Burma War (1885), 11–12
support for Auchinleck, 247 Tiwana, Sir Khizr Hayat, 296–9
Singh, Tara, 299 trains, attacks on, 321, 339–40
Sinha, S. K., 226, 229 Transfer of Power, announcement of,
Sixsmith, Eric, Brig., 215 288–9
Slim, Sir William, Field Marshal, 4, 40, 52, civilian responses, 289
127 impact on army, 289–90
command in post-war occupation zones, trials of INA members, 119, 127–42,
156, 158, 160, 164, 166, 178 147–50
command of Burma Corps, 67, 71, 73–4 adjournment, 132
comments on colleagues, 70, 174 (calls for) abandonment, 129–30, 148–50
progressive approach, 76 calls for severity, 133–5, 138–9, 141
Smith, Sir Arthur, Lt Gen., 253, 269, 304, concerns of military/political leaders,
323 133–7, 140–2
Soerio, Dr, 187 Defence Committee, 131
South East Asia Command (SEAC), 159 dropping of charges, 140
assumption of responsibilities in French/ first defendants, 131
Dutch colonies, 152, 155 location, 131
contradictory directives, 162 proposals/practice of leniency, 133–4,
differences with India Command, 198 137–8, 140–2
lack of intelligence, 177–9, 183 protests/threats of violence, 133, 135,
misjudgements of situation on ground, 140–1
188, 198 response among Indian Army, 131–2,
South East Asia, occupation of French/ 139–42, 147–8, 150
Dutch colonies, 4, 152–5, 279 response of civilian population, 132,
changes in command structure, 195 137–8, 142

trials of INA members (cont.) response of Army, 234–7

selection of prisoners for trial, 128–9 response of London government, 238
sentencing, 128–9, 138 see also names of towns/regions especially
use for political propaganda, 129–30, 132 Punjab
Tuker, Sir Francis, Lt Gen., 55, 57–8,
60–1, 135, 143, 215–19, 224, 231, Wade, D. A. L., Maj Gen., 251
286, 291–2, 328–9 Wainwright, Mary Doreen, 290
agreement with Auchinleck, 264, 266 Wallis, J. R., Capt., 82
disagreements with Auchinleck, 138–9, Wavell, Archibald, 1st Earl, Field Marshal,
147, 254, 265, 349 54, 80, 109, 147, 153, 252
hostility to INA, 134–5, 138–9, 143 Breakdown Plan, 232–4
key themes of command, 293–4 civilian appeals to, 224, 226–7, 296, 299
meeting with Bengal government, 294 comments on 1946–7 violence, 219–20,
pessimistic assessments of civil situation, 222, 225, 228–30, 232, 235, 237–8,
2, 218, 221, 223, 227, 236, 293, 334 290, 299
positive comments on army, 201, 285, comments on Indian Army, 46, 69, 91,
295–6, 307 104, 107, 111–12, 145, 221, 235
proposed extension of command, 294 concerns over occupation zones, 170,
Twyman, Sir Henry, Governor, 134 175, 182, 190, 193–4
end of tenure as viceroy, 234, 287, 289,
Urdu, training of ofﬁcers in, 88 302
US Army handling of demobilisation, 241–2, 274
British/Indian relations with, 157 handling of INA trials, 129–30, 132, 135,
weapons dumps, 298 137–8, 140, 148–9
handling of moves towards Indian
Van der Plas, C. O., Dr, 180 independence, 205–7
van Mook, H. J., Dr, 178 opposition to release of INA prisoners,
Venning, Lt Col, 229 285–7
Vietminh role in Indianisation process, 98
attacks on British/Indian troops, 167 Wedemeyer, Albert, Gen., 157
hardening of anti-British attitudes, 164 Western Java, 181–3, 193
military qualities, 173 clashes with local forces, 181–3
negotiations with Allied leadership, 166 relations with Dutch troops/civilians, 182
operations against, 160, 162–3, 168–74 relations with Japanese, 182–3
proclamation of independence, 161 Wilson, James, Major (later Lt Gen.), 235,
recruitment/propaganda, 162 252
violence, rising levels of (1946–7), 2, 4, 201–2 Wingate, Orde, Maj. Gen., 69
criticisms of civil authorities, 237 women/children, violence directed against,
delay in calling in Army, 214 218, 224, 227, 230–1, 318, 332
military preparations for, 213–14,
216–17 Yong, Tan Tai, Prof., 15, 20, 296
numbers of paramilitaries, 297
political background, 203–7, 215–16 Zahir-ud-Din, Lt, 101

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