Antony Brett-James

The Fifth Indian Division
in the Second World War



NOVEMBER 1945-MAY 1946

THE capitulation of Japan had come with great suddenness. In Britain and America mighty forces were being set in motion to accomplish the invasion of Japan and the final destruction of her forces in Malaya, the Netherlands East Indies and the South-West Pacific. Overnight the responsibility for dealing with the Japanese forces in the Netherlands East Indies, the rehabilitation of internees and for the maintenance of law and order was transferred from the South-West Pacific to South-East Asia Command. Great Britain, already fully involved, had thus to shoulder an additional burden. But neither troops nor ships to implement this new responsibility could at once be subtracted from those already locked up in Operation 'Zipper.' The complicated arrangement had to go on.

Two days before the capitulation of Japan on August 15, Doctor Soerkarno, the collaborationist leader of the Indonesian Nationalist movement, had been summoned to Saigon. He was instructed to form a government and to proclaim the birth of the Indonesian Republic. Before the Japanese invasion of the Netherlands East Indies the Indonesian Nationalist Movement had received little support. During the occupation nationalism had been fostered and the attractive but impracticable idea of the Pan-Asiatic Co-Prosperity Sphere had been imparted. The Japanese had made all preparations to install a form of Nationalist puppet Government which, although under their control, would absolve them from the burden of administering the country whilst allowing them to exploit to the full its riches.

On August 18 Soerkarno broadcast the formation of the Indonesian Republic "with the help of Dai Nippon." He claimed the right of the Republic to recognition by the Allied Nations.

The Indonesian Republic now found itself in sole control of the country. During the ensuing weeks it proceeded to consolidate its position against the delayed arrival of the Allied Forces. It took steps to prejudice the return of the. Netherlands colonial administration by virulent propaganda directed against the Dutch. A deliberate campaign of ill-use, brutality, and oppression was started against the unfortunate women and children in the internment camps. All men and boys were seized and imprisoned, leaving the women and children to the mercies of the rough, lawless kampong elements and the brutal fanatical youths of the Nationalist extremist parties.

It was only towards the end of September that the movement of British and Indian troops of the 23rd Indian Division (Major-General D. Hawthorn) from Malaya began. Two brigades were landed piecemeal in Batavia, at the western end of Java. This arrival was greeted with suspicion on the grounds that they were assuming control in order, later, to restore the Netherlands Indies Colonial Administration in Java. Nevertheless, the Indonesian Republican Government accepted the assurances that the tasks of the British force were to succour the internees, remove the Japanese, and help maintain law and order; in fact, no other course existed if they were to obtain the respect of the Allied nations and thus qualify for national independence.

The surrender of the Japanese in East Java had been accepted by a captain of the Royal Netherlands Navy. During the ceremony, the Indonesians had forcibly seized the Japanese arms already handed over and had imprisoned the naval captain. To avoid further participation in a quarrel no longer theirs, the Japanese had handed over the vast residue of arms in Java and had withdrawn into concentration areas in which to await the orders of the Allies.

In Soerabaja Doctor Moestopo, a former dentist, had set himself up as head of the Indonesian Republic in East Java. An excitable, honest figure, whose fanaticism led to lack of balance when confronted with the serious problems soon to arise in Soerabaja, he proved no match for the belligerent military clique headed by Soederman and Atmadji. And he played into their hands, ignoring the moderate advice of experienced ex-colonial administrators such as Doctor Soerio, Governor of East Java.

The institution of the Republican Government was fraught with difficulties. To prevent the Dutch from interfering, the Indonesians took steps to stifle likely opposition by imprisoning all male internees still at large in the internment camps. They then armed the mob in the kampongs with Japanese swords, rifles and machine-guns. The red and white flags of the new Republic were flown from public buildings and vehicles. In September R.A.P.W.I., the organizers in Java of repatriation of prisoners-of-war and internees, were arrested on fictitious charges of espionage. Some were imprisoned, others were murdered. To avoid any publicity being given to their actions, the Indonesians arrested all newspaper correspondents in East Java and confined them in the Oranje Hotel in Soerabaja, which with unconscious irony was renamed Liberty Hotel. The city remained tense and apprehensive, its conscience uneasy over the reaction of the Allied nations to what had been done.

On October 25, 49 Infantry Brigade, under Brigadier A. W. Mallaby, C.I.E., O.B.E., landed in Soerabaja, charged with the tasks of succouring the internees, disarming and evacuating the Japanese, and assisting the local authorities in the maintenance of law and order. The reception accorded by the Indonesians to 49 Brigade was extremely cool. All over Soerabaja large posters proclaimed Indonesian independence. The Brigade was left in no doubt that its presence was resented and although no hostile acts were actually committed against our troops in the early days, the situation was delicate. As day succeeded day it grew ever more tense.

When rumours that the Indonesians intended to commit violence against the internees greeted 49 Brigade on landing, Brigadier Mallaby decided that a conference must be held with Dr. Moestopo at once, to inform him that any such action carried out would be visited by severe consequences. Moestopo must also be informed of the tasks of the Brigade and his co-operation, if possible, enlisted. The handling of this conference was entrusted to Colonel L. H. O. Pugh, D.S.O., second-in-command of 49 Brigade. That it should succeed was most important. For on the results of this first approach would depend the events of the next few days, the completion of the tasks allotted, and the lives and safety of the large number of women, children, men and boys held in the internment camps and jails.

The place was in a ferment. Road-blocks covered by muzzles of machine-guns protruding from nearby houses obstructed the streets. At every halt a horde of excitable youths, armed to the teeth, pressed round the car in which Colonel Pugh was being escorted to the conference. Rifles were thrust through the windows; bayonets all but impaled the occupants of the car; and it was obvious that many fingers trembled an the triggers and that the use of the safety-catch was unknown.

But the conference was a success. The reasons for the presence of British troops in Soerabaja were explained and accepted. And thanks to the reasonable attitude adopted by the representatives of the Indonesian Republican Government, a basis for future cooperation was established and a full-dress meeting between Brigadier Mallaby and Dr. Moestopo arranged for the following morning in the former British Consulate.

The situation in the city was different from that anticipated. A form of Government existed and was prepared to co-operate in accomplishing 49 Brigade's immediate tasks. But it was abundantly clear that any attempt to depose the Indonesian Republican Government in East Java would cause a conflagration. A signal was sent by Brigadier Mallaby to Batavia stating that on no account should leaflets be dropped on Soerabaja, as had been done in West Java, announcing the supersession of local government by a British military administration and ordering the disarming of the people. It was asked that such leaflets be flown to Soerabaja and handed over for distribution at Brigadier Mallaby's discretion.

Meanwhile, 49 Brigade proceeded to occupy the key points of the city in accordance with the brief that Brigadier Mallaby had received. Small detachments were placed in the radio station and the public service installations to protect them against possible sabotage. All questions involving relations with the Indonesians were resolved with the help of a joint British-Indonesian Committee, known as the Contact Committee, under the joint chairmanship of Colonel Pugh and Dr. Doelwarnwo. Innumerable petty restrictions were met, but relations, though scarcely cordial, remained unbroken and, if anything, tending to improve. One major trouble was the lack of departmental machinery to carry out the orders of the Republican Government. And however willing they might be, results were hard to achieve.

On October 27, a Field Regiment, a Field Ambulance and a squadron of Field Engineers started to move into Dharmo, a residential suburb in the south of the city. Here, in the largest internment camp in East Java, were concentrated many thousands of women and children. The urgent medical needs of these internees could best be met by the Field Ambulance. Steps were taken to bring in by military convoy all small parties of internees scattered in camps throughout Soerabaja. And throughout that day convoys with military escorts ran backwards and forwards collecting many hundreds of these women and children.

During the morning a British aircraft flew over Soerabaja and leaflets were dropped on the city. These leaflets stated the British intention of political interference and of disarming all but a police force of very limited strength. These terms nullified those agreed between Brigadier Mallaby and Moestopo. The prestige of the latter was consequently threatened, and he was placed in the unfortunate position of having apparently been double-crossed by Brigadier Mallaby. At once the situation began to deteriorate. All that night Radio Soerabaja broadcast abuse and vituperation. It called upon the population to drive out the British who, it was alleged, planned to render the Indonesians helpless, preparatory to handing them over to the Dutch. Machine-gun barricades appeared in the streets. Dr. Soerio and his Government of East Java seemed to be losing control of the situation. Indonesian regular forces were secretly regrouped, so that each detachment of Indian troops was covered by superior forces.

The strength of the Indonesian army in Soerabaja was twelve thousand. It consisted of ex-colonial soldiers of the former Dutch forces in the Netherlands East Indies, and had been fully armed and retrained by the Japanese. In addition, the armed mob in the kampongs numbered some seventy-five thousand.

On the afternoon of October 28 the clash occurred. The mob, incited to violence and frenzy by frequent vituperative broadcasts from Radio Soerabaja and by the active propaganda of the Black Buffalo Secret Society, poured out from their kampongs. British lorries which were going about their work in the city were trapped without warning. Eleven officers and fifty other ranks were captured and shot out of hand. A convoy of women and children being driven into. Dharmo from the other residential quarter, Goebeng, was attacked. The lorries were set on fire. Despite a prolonged and gallant defence by the small escort of Mahrattas and by the R.I.A.S.C. Indian drivers, only three of the twenty lorries escaped. Many of the women and children were massacred with the utmost brutality. Few escaped with their lives.

After desperate efforts, Mallaby arranged a truce with Soerkarno until the arrival on the following day of Major-General D. Hawthorn, Commander of the Allied Land Forces in Java and of the 23rd Indian Division. The Indonesians ignored the truce and continued to attack our men. The situation of 49 Brigade was now extremely grave. The troops had no ammunition but that actually carried on the men, and all reserves were still in the docks.

When the radio station was set on fire, ammunition ran out, and as the surviving Mahratta defenders fought their way out of the flames, they were killed by overwhelming numbers of Indonesian swordsmen. One company of the Rajputana Rifles were overpowered, and the survivors butchered in the jail they were guarding. The Brigade Headquarters officers' mess was overrun and the mess servants and orderlies put to the sword. And all this time Radio Soerabaja was demanding a national rising. Threats were issued to poison the water, to burn down the city, and to torture prisoners and internees.

On the morning of October 30, Colonel Pugh rejoined Brigade Headquarters by passing successfully through the extent of the Indonesian positions from rear to front. He alone of the officers moving in the town at the time of the outbreak had escaped with his life. He had established himself in Dharmo, where he had been conducting the battle in the southern part of the town. The situation was very serious. The conference between Major-General Hawthorn, Brigadier Mallaby, and Dr. Soerkarno was too late, for the moderate leaders of the Indonesian Republican Government had lost all control. Their authority had been usurped by the extremists who had the bit between their teeth. It was clear that military force alone would bring them to their senses.

Another truce was ordered, but as before, the Indonesians ignored it. Mallaby, seeking a new approach to the desperate situation, proposed sending out British officers with Indonesian officers to tour the city and to try by their personal efforts to bring about a cease-fire. He himself was untiring in this cause, exposing himself ceaselessly to the mercies of the mob, by whom he was murdered on October 30. Two platoons of the Rajputana Rifles, south of Dharmo, were overwhelmed and killed to a man. Units of the Brigade cut off in Soerabaja were now reduced to less than ten rounds of ammunition per man. Brigade Headquarters had sustained twenty-five per cent casualties. The Indonesians, on the other hand, had by this time admitted to no less than 6,000 casualties among their troops and the armed mobs.

Colonel Pugh now assumed command of 49 Brigade. He issued immediate instructions that on no account would any withdrawal take place without his orders. He ordered his troops by the harbour to hold the airfield and docks at all costs. Administrative units, such as the Dock Operating Company of Hull Stevedores, Indian Pioneer Company, Field Bakery, Supply and Issue Sections, Workshops, were at once to obtain arms from the Navy or anywhere else and to help defend the port. Demands to surrender were at once rejected. Plans were set afoot to regroup the Brigade into the two main areas of Dharmo and Tandjoengperak---the dock area. And negotiations were opened with Dr. Soerio to abate the fighting and to enable the British and Indian forces to withdraw from the centre of the city.

After protracted negotiations, in which an invaluable part was played by Wing Commander Allan Groom, D.S.O., an ex-prisoner-of-war, Colonel Pugh's proposals were accepted. At four o'clock in the afternoon of October 31, 49 Brigade moved into tactically sound positions. By dusk the regrouping was complete. Supplies and ammunition were assured. The immediate danger was past. But during the fighting eighteen officers and 374 men had been killed, wounded, or were missing. Much equipment had been lost. All the documents and files of Brigade Headquarters had been destroyed, preparatory to the Headquarters fighting its way out from the centre of Soerabaja had negotiations failed. Though 49 Brigade possessed little more than what it stood up in, arrangements were at once started to supply the internees and the garrison in Dharmo by air, to bring out the internees, and then to assemble in the area of the port.





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On November 2 Major-General Mansergh and a staff officer arrived by air from Batavia, and were met by Colonel Pugh, who emerged from a hole in the ground. The grave circumstances of 49 Brigade necessitated reinforcement in Soerabaja by the Fifth Indian Division. On the previous day 2 Mountain Battery (Major J. Nettlefield) had landed, temporarily without its guns. The situation in Soerabaja was different from that envisaged in Batavia. 49 Brigade, although shaken and depleted, was firmly established. The Contact Committee had been revived, negotiations had started, and some results had already been achieved in operations to bring out the internees, to recover Indian troops held prisoners by the Indonesians, to effect the return of Brigadier Mallaby's body and captured vehicles. Delicate though the situation was, it was completely under control, But as, General Mansergh's arrival , if known, would give rise to further suspicion which might upset the delicate balance now held, he agreed to remain in the background; all personal negotiations with the Indonesians would continue to be carried out by Colonel Pugh under his direction. It was thus hoped to protect the arrival of the Fifth Indian Division, and to avoid plunging the city into another 'blood bath.' General Mansergh's brief was to secure Soerabaja and to carry out the tasks originally allotted to 49 Brigade---succouring Allied internees, disarming the Japanese, and assisting in the maintenance of law and order.

Nine Brigade were the first troops to arrive. The port and airfield were firmly held by the 4th and 6th Mahratta Light Infantry of 49 Brigade, whilst the 6th Rajputana Rifles and the Field Regiment garrisoned a strongly defended area in Dharmo.

The convoy of L.S.T.s. carrying the troops of the Division passed through the Madoera Straits as they approached Soerabaja. Off Madoera Island to the east our troops could see many ships that had been sunk by the Netherlands Navy when Java was first overrun by the Japanese. These Dutch vessels, whose masts and funnels were sticking up out of the water at frequent intervals, almost blocked the narrow channel marked by buoys. A moving incident occurred when two L.S.Ts., that had already landed troops in Soerabaja and were on their way back, came out of the sunny haze ahead and passed the convoy. The boats, laden with Dutch women and children who were being evacuated from Java, were so packed with people that their superstructures were hardly visible for dresses. The women and children waved, smiled and shouted. There was a hooting of funnels. A visible reason for our men going to Soerabaja had been vouchsafed. They began to understand.

The men of the Division knew little of the situation except that 49 Brigade had run into trouble and had been attacked. Little of Soerabaja itself could be seen as they came in from the sea: the city stretches seven miles inland, is long and narrow in shape, and the ground quite flat.

The docks presented a dilapidated and derelict appearance: broken glass, rusty roofs, empty warehouses with here and there green-clad figures loading ammunition and stores into waiting vehicles. In the naval base, some few naval ratings moved amongst the overgrown hedgerows and gardens of houses and sheds. In the distance, half-hidden by trees, showed the spires and buildings of Soerabaja. On walls and roofs could be read slogans such as "Indonesia for the Indonesians," "Remember the Atlantic Charter," "We will pledge our freedom with our blood," and many others. From the docks long avenues, lined with gold mohur trees now in flower---a vivid splash of scarlet blossom---led southwards towards the town. The disreputable appearance of Soerabaja, with its dirty unswept streets and blistered paintwork, was set off by the blue flowers of the jacaranda and the red-roofed houses and avenues of shady trees that lined the Kali Mas canal.

The concentration of the Fifth Indian Division was kept very secret and was covered by 49 Brigade, who continued to hold a perimeter outside the harbour area. On the night of November 6 the battalion and field regiment in Dharmo were safely withdrawn to the docks. Nine Brigade concentrated in rear of 49 Brigade and in due time took over the defence of the airfield on the right.

2nd Punjab and 2nd West Yorkshires held the forward line. The 3/2nd defences, with the 3/9th Jats in reserve. Forward positions were sited in houses, and holes had to be knocked in walls to give fields of fire.

An uneasy peace reigned. Thousands of Indonesians were massed in front of the defence line held by 49 Brigade. Any small incident might have set the fighting off again. Had this happened during the first few days before the Division arrived in strength, the situation might well have deteriorated and our positions become untenable.

Nevertheless, 6,100 helpless women and children had been brought out of Dharmo by 49 Brigade. This had not been accomplished without considerable effort. Evasions, threats, cajolement and lies continued hour after hour. Convoys had driven through the town escorted only by Indonesian troops in whose reliability 49 Brigade had little confidence. A squadron of light tanks of the 11th P.A.V.O. Cavalry had stood by continuously in case any convoy were attacked. This mass evacuation could never have been carried out but for the calm courage and trust of the Dutch women and children, who allowed themselves to be carried through the sullen, turbulent town, the inhabitants of which had but recently been screaming for their blood and threatening them with every barbarity.

In the streets there was no movement-neither cars, trams, nor buses. There were no Indonesian-civilians in the area. If the workshops in the docks were empty, warehouses in the port area by contrast were full of stores. Crates of wines, sherries and hocks, and bales of cloth and rotted nylon stockings abounded. In the port offices, typewriters and papers lay on the desks just as they had been abandoned.

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The general attitude of the fanatical Indonesians showed that they would stop at nothing. They had committed unbelievable atrocities on Dutch women and children, on British and Indian personnel, and had gone to lengths that no people worthy of the name would have thought possible. Their activities varied from mutilating the wounded to rape, denying prisoners-of-war food and drink and, eventually, when killing those in their power, dismembering them in public. The whole attitude of irresponsible youths and men in Soerabaja was one which was likely to lead to serious fighting and even greater loss of life. In the meanwhile units and formations of the Division were landing in the Dock area. In the city, there were large concentrations of ex-internees and prisoners-of-war, mostly Dutch women and children, who were hourly exposed to the violence and dangers of a brutal mob. This was the situation on November 7 when General Mansergh attended a meeting with the Indonesian leaders.

This meeting was held in a little house on the edge of the airfield. The so-called Governor of East Java and three or four other reputable Indonesians attended the conference and endeavoured to persuade their youthful and quite irresponsible compatriots that the British were in fact there to relieve distress, rescue prisoners-of-war and disarm Japanese. It was quite obvious, in part from the ill-behaviour of the so-called military and naval representatives of the Indonesian Republic, that any attempt at co-operation was useless, but it also appeared that the Indonesian Army were determined to take complete control from the more stable civilian element.

General Mansergh very carefully explained what had already been put to the Indonesians, that all the British forces wished to do was disarm the Japanese, rescue and help the needy, and ensure safety and order in Soerabaja. He further invited the civil police and the Indonesian Youth Army to help him to achieve this end. He suggested that the lawless mob should be disarmed by being ordered to return quietly to their homes and place their weapons at indicated points. These weapons would then be taken over and placed in safety. At the same time he asked again for the women and children to be permitted to come into the safe area of the Docks. It was quite apparent that the young hotheads had no intention of permitting this. Their behaviour, expressions and general attitude were such that further negotiation was obviously useless. General Mansergh then said that, as his orders were to disarm the Japanese and liberate those held against their wills in captivity, he had no alternative but to enter the town and, if necessary, use force. He added that he would not do this until November 10, so as to enable the Indonesians to reconsider his. suggestion. He further hoped there would be no opposition; but if there was, he would be forced to protect his men and rescue the Dutch women and children from their brutal captors.

Pamphlets were dropped in Soerabaja and the surrounding area asking for peaceful citizens either to help with the maintenance of law and order or to keep to their houses. The pamphlet further said that the troops in the Dock area would advance at six o'clock in the morning of the 10th and that it was hoped assistance would be forthcoming g from the Indonesian authorities. The pamphlet also stated that should there be opposition, and should it become necessary to use force, such force as was at the disposal of General Mansergh would be used. Details were given of a. route out of Soerabaja along which peaceable citizens could leave the area; those who remained behind did so at their own risk.

Between the 7th and 10th the situation became more tense and the Indonesians more aggressive. So that casualties might be avoided, information was received and obtained on the position of internees' compounds, hospitals, orphanages, and other places where there were general concentrations of inhabitants. By the time six a.m. on November 10 arrived, the Division had very good information about the Indonesian dispositions within the city.

The battalions of Denholm-Young's 123 Brigade---2/1st Punjab, 1/17th Dogra, 3/9th Gurkha Rifles--advanced on a somewhat misty morning and were almost immediately fired upon. Their orders were, however, only to use their personal weapons unless receiving definite orders to the contrary. Within half an hour it was obvious that the Indonesians were deployed in strength and had numerous weapons including tanks, guns, and mortars. They were inflicting considerable casualties on the slowly advancing Indian and British troops; permission was therefore given to our troops to use mortars. In support of the Brigade was the 5th Indian Field Regiment (Lieutenant-Colonel R. F. D. Legh).

As the morning drew on, considerable opposition and artillery fire were encountered, for the, Indonesians were using every form of weapon they possessed. And these included not only rifles and machine-guns, but also spears, knives, swords, krisses, sharpened bamboos, blowpipes, and poisoned arrows or darts. By eleven o'clock the main advance line and headquarters occupied by the Indonesian forces had been located, and it was clear that any further advance without receiving heavy casualties would not be possible. Accordingly, General Mansergh gave orders for the prepared support fire, from the artillery and the lighter units of the Royal Navy, to be put down on the carefully located enemy positions. Certain selected headquarters and artillery and infantry positions were bombed by the Royal Air Force. The whole of this concentration lasted for five minutes, after which there was a pause to give the Indonesians time to reconsider their attitude. Then the troops continued their advance where possible and only used such support fire as was necessary to reach their objectives. At no time during the battle, which lasted for nineteen days, were bombs used except where special targets and strong-points made this necessary. By evening the jail had been reached and a breach was made in the wall by an anti-tank gun. Inside the prison were found some 3,000 Dutch and Allied internees, crammed into a space normally occupied by 1,200 prisoners. The troops arrived at this area just in time and were able to prevent the Indonesians from setting light to many of the cell blocks; in some instances petrol had been poured over the roofs and the unexpected arrival of the troops interfered with what would have been an indescribable massacre of defenceless people.

A very serious event that day was the death of Brigadier Robert Loder-Symons, who was C.R.A. of the Division. Before resorting to bombing that morning, he had asked General Mansergh for permission to fly over the city to see what was happening. When taking off his aircraft failed to rise, and both he and the pilot were killed.

This officer, a most distinguished Horse Artilleryman, who had served outstandingly in the Western Desert and Europe, and was one of the great characters of that period of the war, had come out to join the Division from Norway, where he had been C.R.A. to the 1st Armoured Division. In a very short while in Burma and Malaya he had endeared himself to all ranks of the Division and had managed with quite distinctive success to get to know the Indian soldier who was till then quite unknown to him. The loss of this gallant officer in an air-crash was serious not only to the Division but to the British Army, for he was undoubtedly one of the outstanding junior officers of the war.

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During the days that followed our battalions were engaged in close-quarter street fighting, a form of warfare new to the Division. Mansergh's plan was to take over Soerabaja, a Dutch city, with the minimum damage and casualties. In any case, artillery was limited; we were forbidden to use aircraft; no more bombs were available; the Chinese areas were not to be damaged or fired into; and the Dutch camp areas and certain special buildings had to be preserved. The supporting squadron of Sherman tanks from the 13th Lancers were only allowed to fire their 75 mm. guns on direct orders from a Brigadier.

The Indonesians knew the area and outnumbered our troops. They had Japanese light and medium tanks and artillery, and abundant ammunition, but they seldom supported their fanatical attacks by fire. Nor could they pin-point our positions, but they loosed off ammunition in their general direction whenever they felt inclined. And their firing grew wilder as the days passed. No one knew when a shell might not whine over, and soldiers in the most innocent places might have to flatten themselves on the ground.

No civilians were seen as the troops moved forward. Many streets were deserted. At this stage little damage had been done and the looting had been negligible. Most of the smaller Chinese shops were found barricaded. But as the battle crept forward, large shops were passed, full of goods that lay on the counters or glass shelves. Some cupboards had been smashed open, but little had been taken.

To clear the city was a slow business. 123 Brigade had to repel the most bitter onslaughts, in which thousands of young Indonesians fell before the medium machine-guns of Colonel Bristow's Dogras. Continuous sniping made the task of digging in at once difficult and perilous. The Indonesian mortaring was accurate and plentiful, and at this stage their troops were commanded by Japanese.

When our troops reached the Chinese area in the centre of Soerabaja, the Chinese, unlike the Indonesians, refused to, leave their homes. Here they had gathered from all parts of the city with their belongings, and houses were crammed with families huddled into one room. The Chinese feared that if once they went, their houses would be open to loot and destruction. And they suffered many casualties when their quarter became No-Man's-Land for thirty-six hours. Later they were right in the heart of the battle, and sections of the 3/2nd Punjab (Lieutenant-Colonel J. M. Worsley) had to dig their positions in Chinese gardens. Often holes had to be knocked from one house to another so that the infantry could get through. Often some of our Indians would be manning machine-guns in the front part of a room in the rear half of which crouched a Chinese family.

By November 17 Nine Brigade had occupied the entire Chinese quarter. The Indonesian resistance had begun to stiffen as they brought up more guns and tanks. Like the Japanese who had trained them, they were often ready to fight to the last in their strong points. By the time our infantry battalions reached the European residential areas of Dharmo and Goebeng, the Indonesians had begun to melt away, to slip out of the city. And an enthusiastic welcome awaited the troops as they entered the Dutch districts. Companies of the 3/2nd Punjab were greeted with kisses and flowers by the released Dutch, Armenian, Arab, and Chinese womenfolk.

The occupation of Soerabaja was completed on November 28, after nineteen days' fighting. Now the city had to be thoroughly searched to ensure that no Indonesian insurgents, disguised in mufti and with their weapons hidden, still remained inside.

For several days areas were cordoned off and combed in a house-to-house search. The determination of the Indonesians to continue the struggle had been in no way impaired, and it was certain that they would offer the maximum resistance.

The Division, still without Grimshaw's 161 Brigade which after sailing to Soerabaja had been recalled to Batavia, had taken up positions on the edge of the city. The infantry patrolled out from their forward lines to keep contact with the Indonesians, to prevent them as far as possible from infiltrating back into Soerabaja, and above all to keep their heavy guns or mortars out of range of the city itself. To achieve this columns were sent out to break up any build-up by the Indonesians. An area ten miles wide round Soerabaja was to be kept free from major enemy forces.

From Soerabaja the countryside stretched inland, almost flat, with bright green paddy fields, studded here and there by the darker clumps of villages. In the distance rose blue, hazy, volcanic mountains, always so desirable to look at because they conjured up visions of coolness from the day-long monsoon sweat on sea level. There was little cover for our infantry or for the Indonesians in the paddy fields on either side of the road, and many abandoned guns were shot up and captured. Occasionally, a column of both infantry and tanks would set out on a still wider chukka for two or three days, sweeping some ten miles along roads and cart tracks.

The column rumbled through the streets, past civilians digging in their gardens or eating breakfast under the trees, and so out into the country. And from then on the crack of a machine-gun, a sniper, or a mine, could be expected at any moment. Nine Brigade carried out two such columns, westwards to Sidoardjo, and to Krijan. And 123 Brigade raided and occupied Grissee on the coast north-west of Soerabaja.

Many of the Dutch women and children had been marched out along the hot, dusty road that led inland, and had been imprisoned in the villages. And our patrols and columns, seeking to release these hostages, missed them time and again by a matter of hours. The villages in which the Dutch were kept lay out of range in many cases, and on the approach of one of our columns these civilians would be sent still further into the interior.

As a result of our columns, the Indonesians began a systematic destruction of bridges on all roads leading out of the city in order to prevent further columns from operating. And this fighting further afield took on the aspect of guerilla warfare. Casualties were suffered by both sides, but the Indonesians paid very heavily in their night raids against our company positions and in their attacks on our patrols. The Indonesian. army, trained by the Japanese, had been defeated. Now small organizations had come forward to give battle. But Soerabaja was not seriously threatened. By mid-December the Indonesians had abandoned plans to recapture the city. Their policy seemed to be one of prolonged delaying tactics.

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Although in this third phase of the fighting in and around Soerabaja most of the units had very comfortable billets in luxurious houses and hotels and only the forward companies suffered any discomfort, and although the men had clubs and cinemas on a peacetime scale, yet for many the war became a little unreal and every day patrol clashes took place all along the front. The casualties of the Division mounted. Unfortunately, as was so often the case, the men who were killed in Java invariably. seemed to be those with the longest service and the greatest honours. This happened particularly in Worsley's 3/2nd Punjab, where men with four or five years of almost continuous service and many decorations, men who had fought in Eritrea, in the Desert, and through Burma, were killed by a sniper, a mine, or a stray shell.

* * * * * * *

When the fighting in Soerabaja ended, the city had been largely cleared of Indonesians. But these soon began to drift back into the villages and kampongs on the outskirts and then seeped into Soerabaja itself. To stop them was impossible. The Chinese and Indonesians opened up their shops and set to work in the dockyards. But the civilians were, in many cases,. scared of the armed Indonesians, among whom there were alleged to be many murderers and looters. Frequently stories, usually unfounded, of Indonesian ringleaders were reported to Brigade Headquarters. Many were the spy scares and reports of strange lights at night. The Indonesians were said to -be coming back into Soerabaja in small parties at dawn, taking advantage of the cover provided by villagers bringing fruit and vegetables to the markets, to smuggle arms and ammunition into the city. Rumour had it that the civilians would later be wiped out.

The Dutch and Chinese, who lived in the better houses of Soerabaja, feared that the Indonesians were grouping in the kampongs. These were large slum areas of mud huts and bashas, built in row after row with narrow passageways in between the trees. There would be thousands of Indonesians living in one area. In response to these allegations, the kampongs would from time to time be surrounded by two companies of infantry and a systematic search carried out. The odd grenade was thrown from day to day, and sometimes a sniper would be active, particularly against ration lorries being driven out to the forward infantry battalions.

The battalion in reserve in the town, although on guard duties, lived in excellent quarters---in comfortable modern bungalows with pretty gardens, or in hotels. And in the evenings the officers and men enjoyed themselves. It was quite normal for an officer to fight a fierce battle during the daytime and that same evening to take his Dutch girl friend to dine and dance at the Simpang Club. The Dutch sports and tennis clubs were opened to Allied officers and their friends. Tennis rackets and balls could be bought cheaply in the town and many hours were spent on the tennis courts, in the swimming pools and cinemas. Small shops opened up, and these were full of junk and loot. But a weekly issue of Japanese guilders increased the troops' purchasing power in the local markets. The men found it a new experience in war to have civilians, both European and Oriental, around them.

The month of December was spent in consolidation, evacuation, and rehabilitation. In the city the search for arms continued, and although the situation remained generally quiet, isolated sniping incidents occurred at night.

On December 8 a notice was distributed to the local population calling for the surrender of arms and ammunition within two days. Collecting points were announced, and this was to be a final chance for Indonesians to give up their arms. Henceforth, all people found with arms were to be treated as enemies of law and order. The response to this proclamation was very poor. The inhabitants in many cases seemed either afraid of the consequences of producing concealed weapons or unwilling to part with them because of the uncertain conditions in Soerabaja.

But the cases of looting diminished; the search of the city and its satellite kampongs was completed; the curfew was well observed; the extremist influence seemed to have been destroyed; an ever-increasing number of civilians returned to the kampongs---during one week eight thousand came back; and the prevailing spirit seemed to be one of relief that hostilities within the city were over.

The various communities in Soerabaja were too busy restoring normal conditions for inter-communal friction to be apparent. The Chinese, Arabs, and Indonesians all established food control centres, hospitals, and relief posts. A local police force was raised and labour bureaux began to function. Merchants were encouraged to resume business, and people brought in food to the bazaars. A civil court was opened to deal with cases of looting. The anarchic atmosphere in the kampongs noticeably died down, and at least a surface calm prevailed in Soerabaja.

But although public confidence was thus being restored, there was general uncertainty of the future, and a strong public desire for a clarification of immediate Allied policy in eastern Java. While some of the hysterical fanaticism was melting away in the light of more practical administration, and increasing local help was forthcoming, dangerous elements, and extremist leaders were still lying low in Soerabaja. The city's population at this time was about 750,000. The Dutch element comprised chiefly some twenty thousand interned women and children, while the Chinese numbered about seventy thousand, the Arabs ten thousand, and the Indians half that number. The rest were Indonesians.

General Mansergh and the staff of Divisional Headquarters at once set about forming a military government, with departments for police, law, supplies, shipping, education, broadcasting, medicine, and power and light. As, at this time, Soerabaja was virtually besieged on every side except the sea, no supplies came from the mainland outside the Division's defence perimeter. By the beginning of January when a certain number of Dutch civilian officials arrived to help, a police force of some seven hundred men and an ambulance system had been organized. Four schools were running, attended by six thousand children, and four civilian hospitals had been reopened. Lighting was working in all offices, in hospitals, and in the docks. Some forty per cent of the water system was in operation, but there was still a lack of water because the Indonesians were holding the springs. Aided by specialists, the Divisional Sappers established water points, filled from ships, and they restored to working order the sewage system, the gas works, the cold storage plant in the docks, and the bulk oil installations. They also stood by to deal with fires and arson in the crowded kampong areas, where the shacks were built of wood and thatch. The Royal Navy, under Captain Garwood, had the dockyard in action, and the docks were discharging some two thousand tons a day at full pressure. Four daily news sheets in Dutch, Malay, Chinese, and Indonesian were issued, and Divisional Signals had constructed a transmitter which broadcast a midday programme with news and a full evening programme.

In the middle of January 451 Sub-area from Akyab arrived to run the base, and to relieve the Divisional staff of many burdens and responsibilities. It was during January, too, that the Division's veteran British unit, the 2nd Battalion, the West Yorkshire Regiment, who had fought at Dologorodoc and in the Cauldron, at Ngakyedauk and Meiktila,, went away, after a fighting record unsurpassed in the Division.

On January 11 the Division and the Indian Army suffered very severe loss. The 2/1st Punjab had pushed forward from their positions some miles outside Soerabaja and when this battalion's tactical headquarters was about to enter a place called Domas, the small convoy was ambushed. The battalion commander, Lieutenant- Colonel Sarbjit Singh Kalha, in the foremost jeep was killed outright. The battery commander of 144 Field Regiment (Berkshire Yeomanry), Major Whitcombe, who was following in the second jeep, was also killed. The wireless sets were put out of action by small-arms fire, and the isolated column lost touch with the other companies. One platoon under Subadar Karim Khan took up defence positions and beat back four attacks by the Indonesians---attacks that went on for an hour and a half. The situation was later restored when Major Duncan's company, who were quite ignorant of what had happened on the outskirts of Domas owing to the breakdown of communications, came up to the same place despite machine-gun fire. The bodies of those who had been killed were eventually recovered and buried with full military honours. Subadar Karim Khan, I.D.S.M., was awarded the Military Cross for his gallantry in the command of his platoon.

It was tragic that the last action of any importance in which the 2/1st Punjab were engaged should have been the most disastrous, in that Colonel Kalha lost his life. He had been at the Staff College and had served with the battalion off and on from the first day it went into action. Calm and unruffled in battle, fearless, and with delightful manners, he had won the D.S.O. 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 afford to lose.

Towards the end of January 1946 the Division was instructed to plan the landing on and the occupation of the nearby islands of Bali and Lorabok. The operation was to have been carried out by the Dutch Army Brigade from Bangkok. After many changes and a good deal of worry, the occupation was successfully accomplished with the help of a British mission, led by Colonel Kemp. The Senior Commander of the Japanese Forces on Bali surrendered his sword to General Mansergh at a formal parade on February 18.

It was on February 4 that the first Dutch troops actually landed at Soerabaja, led by a reconnaissance party of the 1st Netherlands Marine Brigade from America. Early in March this Dutch brigade arrived in strength and at once took over the defences on the west of Soerabaja from 123 Brigade, who were to prepare to leave for India.

By the middle of the month it was finally confirmed that the Division was to return to Ranchi, and operation 'Epilogue'---a fitting title---began. The Division was to be relieved in Soerabaja by a Dutch Army Brigade from Great Britain, and, of course, by the 1st Netherlands Marine Brigade. The necessary divisional staff and troops were to be sent from Holland.

During March there seemed to be a general lull in extremist activities. Whenever they tried to make a stand they were dispersed or put to flight, and there appeared to be no basic plan or coordination among the Indonesian forces, no liaison between their various sectors. Despite the continued terrorizing of the villagers, the extremists were regarded with increased contempt by the more moderate population. But the news of the approaching withdrawal of British and Indian troops from Java and their replacement by Dutch caused despondency among the Eurasian and Chinese communities.

Although relations between the British and Dutch troops were in the main friendly and co-operative, it was inevitable that there should be difficulties from time to time. Naturally the Dutch felt sore about their inability to take over and control their own colonies. The orders which were being carried out by the British and Indian forces restricted very considerably the Dutch authority, which was made even more insecure by the extreme scarcity of Dutch troops. At moments feeling ran high, but in spite of the inherent difficulties of the situation, the Dutch forces and the men of the Fifth Indian Division. the Royal Navy, and the Royal Air Force worked in very satisfactory harmony.

During April the various units of the Division sailed back to India, and the relief in Soerabaja was completed by May 8. The hand-over went smoothly, but it was not without a twinge of regret that the Division had to leave behind its transport and twenty 25-pounder guns which had served it so well in the past years. These had been sold to the Dutch.

On April 23 General Mansergh had left the Division and had flown to Batavia to assume the appointment of G.O.C.-in-C. of all Allied Forces in the Netherlands East Indies. The square in front of Divisional Headquarters, the former Town Hall, was renamed 'General Mansergh Plein.' The new C.R.A., Brigadier G. R. Bourne, took over acting command of the Fifth Indian Division.

Other Indian and British troops remained to complete the difficult task with which they had been entrusted. 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. Many of the Indians and Indonesians professed the same religion.

The 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 characteristic of the Indian soldier. Many must have been the temptations, but the vast majority of the troops serving with the Fifth Indian Division remained true to. themselves and to their leaders, and completed their task in such a manner that both Dutch and' Indonesians expressed gratitude, for "your politeness, your kindness, and your dignified self-restraint."

The Fifth Indian Division returned to India, to Ranchi in Bihar Province where it had trained for the war against Japan three years before. The men were in the highest spirits and morale, having completed their foreign service, a service which no other formation can equal.



The road across these five years was long, hard and perilous. Those who perished upon it did not give their lives in vain. Those who marched forward to the end will always be proud to have trodden it with honour."

Their Finest Hour.

THE Division returned to India for the last time. Muslim units went north to the new state of Pakistan. Many of the soldiers left the service and returned to their homes. The comradeship of British and Indian troops became a feature to look back on with pleasure. For six years the Division had travelled and fought. Units had come, units had gone, the men had changed. But those who were new became absorbed into the team, and imbued with the Divisional Spirit. Now that team disintegrated, and dispersed across the world. And the years of abundant memory began to fade into the past. But, bringing death or mutilation to many, they contained also the most varied and adventurous memories of many more, who had travelled a very great distance, whose horizons had been widened, whose experience had deepened, and whose characters had become strengthened by responsibility; command, and loyal obedience in dangerous times.

Each man has his own particular memories: passing the regimental mule lines, and seeing all the swishing tails; the record of a nostalgic tune of Tchaikovsky played constantly in Lohardaga; the endless lines of bullock carts on the dusty roads of Burma; the varied bird life for those who had a trained eye to watch; the grazing herd of camels that chewed off long stretches of insulation from a telephone line in the Sudan; a night drive across the Desert, standing with your head out of the trap door in the roof, looking down on the road, and calling to your driver to go left, or right, or straight ahead, or to stop; bathing before breakfast in the turquoise-blue waters of the Mediterranean, and walking happily along the gleaming white sands that stretch for miles beside Burg el Arab. One will remember the fields of Cyprus in springtime, when scarlet poppies and yellow patches of daisies mingled with the green of the swaying barley. Another will be reminded of shooting duck or sand-grouse. There will be a momentary glimpse of the first Italian prisoners brought in---a bedraggled crowd of native troops wearing coloured scarves round their waists to distinguish their regiment. Or a mental picture of Sikh signalmen in Eritrea, hating the cold, muffled up in greatcoats, and bright with coloured cloths tied round their beards and over the top of their intricate pagris. Fishing in a stream near Gallabat; the sound of children on the Teknaf Peninsula chanting their morning prayers in the Buddhist school. Lying on one's stomach in a paddy field on the edge of an Arakanese village, and deciphering code messages by the light of the moon. The Punjabi lance-naik who, when he was going away, seized his officer's hand, and said, "Agar maine koi galati kia hai, to ap muaf kijiye" (Please pardon any mistakes I may have made). The ecstasy with which a battalion Signals Officer could greet the discovery of two miles of telephone cable or a roll of insulating tape. The contentment of listening on a long line to clear, loud speech.

The souvenirs that a man brought back with him would vary with his taste, and above all with the force of his collecting instinct and the circumstances in which he found himself. Few were able to bring heavy items, for baggage was restricted, and very little might be carried out from the battle front. Nor had anyone the space, apart from the corner of some leather yakdan box, or a haversack, or a niche in a truck. Yet each man took back some little group of mementos: a Japanese sword to hang above his mantelpiece, an album with photographs and news cuttings, lace table mats from Cyprus, brocade from Damascus, an inlaid mother-of-pearl box bought in Beirut, or an Arab headrope picked up in the bazaars of Baghdad. There might be a Persian rug stretched on the parquet floor, a copy or two of an Indian or Egyptian newspaper, a handful of foreign coins, a photograph of the man himself perched on a camel beside the Sphinx, or postcards of the Pyramids and the Gateway to India at Bombay. You might find in one of his drawers a note-book with Japanese characters scrawled on the white pages; or a musty smelling book with his own name, a date, and Cairo or Haifa or Singapore or Nicosia written on the flyleaf---and this book would, on account of its travels, hold for its owner more intimate associations than its fellows on the shelf.

Up in the attic might be found an old canvas valise, that had been rolled round his bedding and had been spread out night after night for him to sleep in, and rolled and fastened again with straps morning after morning through the campaigns. On the outside would be the traces of his name painted in white, and various sets of code numbers and letters that had signified one ship or unit in a convoy. In some old envelope in the drawer lies a sheaf of creased and folded maps of old campaigning areas, torn at, the folds, disfigured by pencil crosses and rings that have lost their meaning, and by faintly pencilled code names for hill features and crossroads. Hanging in the cupboard is a suit of green jungle battledress that is used for gardening, and somewhere or other could be found a small cardboard box filled with dusty officer's pips, or a crown, a Divisional flash or two, bits of faded, crumpled medal ribbons, and disused medal bars of various lengths.

In what different places and conditions these men had slept: in moving trains along the Egyptian coast, across the great continent of India, or through Palestine; on the chilly mountain tops of Keren, Amba Alagi,. and Kennedy Peak; beside such rivers as Gash and Atbara, Tigris, Nile, and Brahmaputra, Chindwin and Irrawaddy. and on the banks of slender waterways like the Tatmin Chaung. They had slept in the bustling, over-populated cities of Cairo and Calcutta, and in places emerging from the grip of war and enemy occupation, as were Rangoon and Singapore. Nights had been spent in transit and reinforcement camps, on board destroyers and troopships, in bamboo bashas, and in tents that ranged in size from the tiny bivouac to the large, square E.P.I.P. As soldiers they had fallen asleep beneath the clear stars of a Desert sky and the monsoon clouds above the jungle-clad hillsides, on soft or rocky sand, on grass and bare earth, on camp beds and in the depths of a slit trench, on wooden planks, beneath a stuffy mosquito net, under the interlaced branches of teak forests or bamboo clumps, in jolting lorries, on a stretcher, in a slow-moving ambulance.

Nor would the sleepless nights of vigil be forgotten, the battles in darkness, the approach marches for the dawn attack, and the night patrols.

Hands that in peacetime had clipped hedges and weeded flower beds, cast flies for fishing, pushed a pram, held the plough or driven cattle out to graze, hewn coal, thrown a cricket ball, planted bulbs, sown seed, picked coffee berries and drawn water from the village well---these hands, dark brown or ruddy in colour, had during the years of warfare loaded Bren-gun magazines, pressed forward safety-catches on a rifle, squeezed the trigger, thrown grenades, dug trenches and gun-pits, pitched tents and laid mines, put up barbed wire, spread camouflage nets, tugged mules up muddy hillsides, tapped out Morse signals, dug graves, set fuses, built bridges, searched enemy prisoners, bandaged wounded limbs, joined broken telephone cables, and performed a thousand other daily tasks.

* * * * * * *

And now it was all over. They had shared in the making of History. They had their wound scars, their medals, their pictures of the mind.

For those who came back from the wars, how varied were the homes and jobs to which they returned: the villages of India and Pakistan, the flats and suburban houses, the country farms, the barracks. The members of the Division are to be found working as zemindars and shopkeepers, chartered accountants and doctors, farmers in Devonshire and Guernsey. They have retired to Kenya or a Sussex village, or taken civil posts in Rhodesia, Venezuela, Hong Kong; or they are teachers, advertisers, librarians, insurance agents. And some still serve under the colours.

Some have sent their roots deeper into the soil they had left. Others have started afresh. Others again cannot settle with a quiet mind. Many have taken to themselves a wife, and have created a family, or have seen for the first time a child born in their absence.

They meet in twos and threes, or at reunion dinners. They talk of the past, and recall people and places, and much of human experience that can seldom be set down on paper.

But many there were who did not return to their homes. Their villages and their towns have not again seen their faces. For their hands are at rest. The dead lie on the hills of Keren and Kohima; among the paddy fields of Arakan; in the warm sands of the Desert; beside a coursing river. And they are remembered by those who knew them in peace and in war.



Those who helped with the writing of this book and who are not mentioned by name in the Acknowledgments.

Major J. O. Arthur, M.C.; Lt-Col. Hon. D. A. Balfour, T.D.; Major J. M. Birnie; Major-Gen. Sir Charles Boucher; Brigadier R. C. B. Bristow; Captain R. Bromley-Gardner, M.C.; Major D. Brunt; Major P. Connery, M.B.E.; Lt-Col. J. F. Carroll, O.B.E.; Major H. F. Davis; Brigadier E. J. Denholm-Young, D.S.O., O.B.E.; Brigadier E. R. S. Dods, M.C.; Major D. Easten, M.C.; Major-Gen. G. C. Evans; Lt.-Col. K. G. H. Fryer, O.B.E.; Brigadier B. C. H. Gerty, C.B.E., D.S.O.; B. Giddings; Major A. N. Gillman, M.C.; Colonel J. M. Graham, D.S.O., M.C.; Lt-Col. E. H. W. Grimshaw, D.S.O.; Captain S. Hamilton; Lt-Col. E. J. C. Harrison, O.B.E.; Lt-Col. C. Harvey; Brigadier M. L. Hayne, C.B.E.; Captain J. A. Hepburn; Brigadier I. F. Hossack, D.S.O.; Major M. Jacobs; Major-Gen. F. A. M. B. Jenkins; Lt-Col. T. H. Jessop, M.B.E.; Major L. H. Jones, D.S.O., M.C.; Major A. L. King-Harman; Lt-Col. M. Lamacraft, M.B.E.; Colonel W. H. Langran, M.C.; Lt-Col. R. Leckie-Ewing; Major M. Lingane, M.B.E.; Brigadier T. Mainprise-King; Major A. S. Massey; Major P. St. G. Maxwell, M.C.; Major D. B. McTurk; Brigadier C. L. Morgan, O.B.E.; Major C. W. T. Morshead, M.C.; Lt-Col. G. Munn, M.C.; Colonel A. H. G. Napier, O.B.E.; Major J. Nettlefield, M.C.; Major-Gen. F. L. Nicholson; Lt-Col. E. L. Percival, D.S.O.; Major-Gen. H- E. Pyman; Major-Gen. T. W. Rees; Major J. Rietchel; Major D. Roxburgh-Smith, M.C.; Major R. Runciman; Lt-Gen. Sir Reginald Savory; Major A. E. Scott; Major P. E. M. Shaw; Brigadier B. S. Sowton; Lt-Col. J. Steen; Lt-Col. 0. Walker; Lt.-Col. F. I. Wallace, D.S.O.; Major T. S. Ware, M.C.; Lt-Col. R. C. Watson; Major G. S. R. Webb, M.C.; Captain J. W. Webber; Major R. L. Wetherall, M.B.E.; Captain C. Wontner-Smith; Lt-Col. E. G. Woods, D.S.O., M.B.E.; Captain J. W. Wright, M.C.; Captain D. W. Young, M.C.; Brigadier F. E. C. Hughes.



Had it not been for the generosity of the following, who subscribed towards the expenses of compiling this book, the History of the Fifth Indian Division could not have been undertaken and completed :

Lt.-Col. C. B. Appleby, D.S.O.; Lt-Col.G. A. Armstrong, D.S.O., M.C., T.D.; Major J. O. Arthur, M.C.; B. T. Bailward; Major N. P. D. C. Baird; K. T. Baker; Lt-Col. D. A. Balfour, T.D.; Brigadier A. R. Barker; T. Beamish; Captain A. I. F. Bennett; Major H. A. Bennett; Major-Gen. G. K. Bourne, O.B.E.; Captain H. J. D. Boyton, M.B.E.; Brigadier H. G. L. Brain, D.S.O., O.B.E.; Captain E. A. Brett-James; Lt-Gen. Sir Harold Briggs, K.C.I.E., C.B., C.B.E., D.S.O.; Major D. Brunt; Captain J. Coates; Lt-Col. R. A. Collins, D.S.O.; Major P. Connery, M.B.E.; Captain C. N. Cooke; Colonel G. H. Cree, C.B.E., D.S.O.; S. H. Davies; Major H. F. Davis; Major R. E. T. Deakin; C. B. Drayson; Lt-Col. H. Dumville; Captain C. D. Easthaugh; Lt-Col. R. Elliott, D.S.O.; Major A. M. S. Fergie; Brigadier B. C. Fletcher, D.S.O., M.C.; T. D. Forster; H. Fraser; Lt-Col. K. G. H. Fryer, O.B.E.; Major T. R. Gemmell, M.C.; Major C. C. B. Gordon; Major G. Gourlay; Captain S. J. Gregory; Lt.-Col. E. H. W. Grimshaw, D.S.O.; Major J. Gutteridge; Lt-Col. A. P. Harrington, M.B.E.; Lieut. C. T. Hawker, M.B.E.; Lt-Gen. Sir Lewis Heath, K.B.E., C.B., C.I.E., D.S.O., M.C.; Brigadier K. W. Harvey, D.S.O., T.D.; Major J. W. B. Hext; Colonel R. H. M. Hill; Major J. D. Holland; Major J. W. L. Howard; Major M. D. Jacobs; Major D. A. James; Major A. E. Jefferies; Captain G. P. Kendall; Major J. Kendall; Captain M. A. Kerr, M.B.E.; Major A. L. King-Harman; Lt-Col. M. Lamacraft, M.B.E.; Major C. C. Lane, M.B.E.; Colonel W. H. Langran, M.C.; R. F. Legard; G. W. V. Liddal; Major M. K. Lingane, M.B.E.; Major F. Lucas; Major H. R. Maconochie; R. W. Malet, M.C.; C. H. Manning; Lt-Gen. Sir Robert Mansergh, K.B.E., C.B., M.C.; D. F. Mant; Major-Gen. Sir John Marriott, K.C.V.O., C.B., D.S.O., M.C.; Major P. St. G. ,Maxwell, M.C.; Major R. G. Maxwell; Major Maxwell; General Sir Mosley Mayne, G.C.B., C.B.E., D.S.O.; Lt-Col. J. M. D. McIntosh, O.B.E.; Lt-Col. W. P. Milne, M.C.; Captain H. A. Morrison; Major C. W. T. Morshead, M.C.; Colonel T. Murray-Christie; Major D. W. Naylor; Major J. F. Newman, M.B.E.; Major R. J. Niven; Major F. B. B. Noble, O.B.E.; Lt-Col. R. Orgill, O.B.E.; J. W. V. Palmer; Brigadier D. F. Panton; Major P. Parsons; Major J. H. Partridge; Major C. D. Pattinson; Rev. C. Perowne; Major W. E. Petrie Hay; W. D. Phillips; Brigadier R. G. C. Poole; Lt-Col. D. Price; Major C. C. L. Pusinelli; Captain C. T. Ramsey; Major-Gen. D. W. Reid, C.B., C.B.E., D.S.O., M.C.; Major C. G. Rickett; Brigadier D. de Robeck; Major A. H. Robertson; Lt-Col. T. C. W. Roe, O.B.E.; Lt-Gen. D. Russell, C.B., C.B.E., D.S.O., M.C.; Brigadier J. A. Salomons, D.S.O., O.B.E.; Lt-Col. W. A. Schooley; Major A. E. Scott; Major D. C. Sebag-Monteflore; A. Selkirk; Major P. E. M. Shaw; Major J. D. Short; Major P. P. Steel, M.C.; Brigadier A. B. van Straubenzee; C. D. Thorn; Captain J. H. Tucker; Major T. C. Vesey; Captain G. S. Warren; Lt-Col. R. C. Watson; Brigadier G. de V. Welchman, C.B.E., D.S.O.; Major R. L. Wetherall, M.B.E.; Major J. Wiberg; Captain A. J. Wiles; F. H. J. Wilkinson; Major C. B. E. Williams; Lt.-Col. H. P. Williams; Major J. Winstanley, M.C.; Lt-Col. E. G. Woods, D.S.O., M.B.E.; Lt-Col. T. Woods; Captain A. J. Woolford, M.C.; Captain J. W. Wright, M.C-; 344 (SY) L.A.A./S.L. Regiment R.A. (T.A.).

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