An old soldier remembers [Archive] - Salman Mahmood

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An old soldier remembers

Sheds tears for those who died with their boots on
[M A GILANI]

Introduction
According to F M Wavell “Military history is a flesh-and-blood affair – the man is the first weapon of battle – it is
he who brings reality to it.” But war is a terrible episode as far as destruction and casualties are concerned. On
some it bestows victory and glory and to some it brings defeat and humiliation. And how long death of a soldier
is mourned and remembered? Only his close kith and kin carry the scars of tragedy, and majority of his
comrades in arm, with the passage of time, forget him. But there is someone whose death on battlefield
remains in memory as an unforgettable event.

I had the honour of participating, actively, in Burma Campaign as a patrol leader/platoon commander/acting
company commander from Dec 1943 to Sept 1945 during the 2nd Great War, in the Kashmir War of
independence in 1948 as Company Commander, as a battalion commander in Sept 1965 War and as a force
commander during Dec 1971 War.

During the actions I fought I lost friends, comrades in arm (juniors and seniors) and many of them were
seriously wounded. On the battlefields I also saw many dead bodies of the enemy soldiers and felt proud to
have killed them. On some occasions soldiers sharing my trench were killed and some fell dead during attack
on enemy held position. Some lost their lives due to enemy shelling and bombing. During fighting a soldier
does not stop to weep on the dead body of his friend or comrade in arm but continues to achieve his assigned
mission.

Aim
The aim of this article is to highlight the demise of some soldiers who died “with their boots on” for whom I
often shed tears. Perhaps some learned readers, who do not belong to the armed forces and those in uniform
who have not been under enemy fire, would find these lines distressful. But as human beings on some
occasions we do experience sadness and even shed tears. Irrespective of their caste and creed I have listed the
following names.

Major A A Uwins
During Dec 1943 I had joined 7/2 Punjab in Arakan-Burma. I was appointed Mortar platoon commander. Major
Uwins was the Headquarter Company Commander. Mortar platoon, Signal platoon, Transport platoon (including
animal transport), Pioneer Section, and QM platoon were included in HQ Company. In age Uwins was the oldest
officer because he had been a reservist. He was strict disciplinarian during working hours but very cordial and
affectionate to the juniors in the Mess who often addressed him as ‘Uncle’. One day while inspecting my
mortars in action I addressed him as ‘Uncle’, but he angrily shouted “address me as Sir”. I was frightened and
with a smart salute addressed him ‘Yes sir yes sir’ and pacified him. During dinner most of the time I remained
quiet. His smile towards me revealed that I had been hurt due to his morning admonish. He encouraged me to
talk and during conversation I addressed him as ‘Major Uwins Sir’. He pulled my ear and smilingly replied, “To
hell with Major Uwins call me uncle”.

As senior officer, and an affectionate elder, he told me to remember three principles.1. Never volunteer for any
dangerous task. 2. Whenever there was time available take your meal. 3. During battle when time permitted
keep yourself clean and tidy.

Often before lunch and dinner, if situation permitted, he would take me to the Langar of jawans for tasting
their meals. He would cut jokes with jawans and took keen interest in their personal problems. He would also
visit the stables and carried a lump of gur and rock salt. The animals on seeing him would start neighing. He
often guided me in learning minor tactics and other military matters. His tips for patrolling were very useful.
His only son, a Lieut, was serving in some British unit fighting in the Middle East. His wife had died last year in
An old soldier remembers [Archive] - Salman Mahmood

England in an air raid.

Whenever he received a letter from his son he read it out to me. In every letter the son used to mention “Papa
you should look after yourself.” Major Uwins would appreciate the concern of his son but with affectionate
annoyance would say that his son considered him an inexperienced youngster, whereas he should look after
himself. I had developed genuine regard and respect for Major Uwins.

On 20th Dec 1943 OC D Company was seriously wounded during attack on a hill and Major Uwins volunteered
to command the rifle company. On meeting I saluted him and also reminded as to why he had volunteered?
Smilingly he replied, “It was my ambition to command a rifle company in action.” After shaking hands I wished
him the best of luck and earnestly requested him to look after himself. He gave a hearty laugh and said, “You
also consider me a youngster.” Before walking away he suddenly stopped and told me in whisper to open the
letters of his in case he ———, before he uttered the final word I understood and replied “No-Sir you will read
yourself his letters.” Major Uwin’s company was constantly under small arms, and shelling continued frequently.

After a week or so one night there was heavy shelling on D Company position. Small arms fire was also intense.
I provided Mortar fire in support and Major Uwins acknowledged it on telephone. Next morning I went down to
the Battalion Headquarters for breakfast in the Mess. All the officers in Battalion Headquarters were present and
most of them were talking and gossiping but the CO was sitting quiet. The Intelligence Officer read out the night
situation report and in his normal tone mentioned that Major Uwins was killed during the last night firing on his
company position. I was stunned and a wave of sadness overcame me. I left my breakfast, and prayed for the
safety of Uwins’ son. But after some days the Battalion Headquarters received an official signal informing that
his son had been killed in action on the same night on which Major Uwins had been killed. What a tragic
coincident?

Lieut Akhtar Mohammad Khan Tareen

Lieut Tareen, the signal officer, was a handsome officer from Khurja. Within few days of my joining the battalion
we became friendly. Whenever we found time we talked about our carefree days, and in view of my presence on
the battlefield I called those days as ‘how green was my valley.’

Tareen was engaged to a beautiful young girl named Mumtaz. He was wearing a glittering ring. He had met his
fiancée and loved her. He had sent her small size photograph to Calcutta for enlargement, which he expected
after a couple of weeks.

In Battalion Headquarters our trenches were also close to each other. As the Mortar officer I was often sent with
forward companies, but whenever possible I used to contact him on field telephone, even during the din of
battle. He and other young officers praised my enviable presence in the thick of battle. With his sincere best
wishes and affectionate prayers he would raise my morale. If emotionally I expressed melancholiness on the
death of some comrade in arms he would tell me to hold myself. But Tareen’s eyes had also become wet on the
demise of Major Uwins and his son.

My battalion (less 2 companies) entered the Adm Box and entrusted with the defence of a portion of the
perimeter. The battle of Adm Box (Feb 1944) has been briefly described in my article – Leadership Qualities –
Gen Sir Frank Messervy (pages 61-62) in the December 2004 issue of the DJ. The Battalion Headquarters from
my Mortar position was about 200 yards. On 9th Feb 1944 in the morning I went to the Battalion Headquarters
for lunch and also to meet Tareen. Only small arms fire was heard in the distance. Complete silence prevailed
on the perimeter front of the Adm Box and it was very unusual. I saw Tareen sitting in a truck reading some
book. We exchanged greetings but he looked very sad. I tried to make him laugh by narrating the incident of a
British officer whose trousers had become wet while sitting in his trench during enemy shelling. But Tareen was
not amused. He was reading the novel “For whom the bell tolls”, which he promised to give me after couple of
hours. As I was about to leave he stopped me. He looked gloomy and in confidence told me that in case of his
demise the photograph of his fiancée, when received from Calcutta, and the engagement ring should be
returned to Khurja. I, with affectionate annoyance told him not to make such ominous utterance. But he held
my hand because he wanted my promise. I, in despair, nodded and replied, “who knows who goes first.” He
warmly shook hands and hugged me. It was unusual behaviour.

I returned to my Mortar position. Suddenly enemy aircraft appeared on the sky and dropped bombs on the
ammunition hill and one landed direct on the Battalion Headquarters. The scene of my last meeting with Tareen
suddenly appeared before my eyes -, the beat of my heart increased and I murmured to myself – No – No. After
all clear I ran back to the Battalion Headquarters. The truck in which Tareen was sitting was still burning. The
wounded were crying in agony, mutilated dead bodies were lying on the ground, a vast area was full of
bloodstains. Tareen’s burnt dead body was lying close to the truck. I recognized it from his ring, which I
removed from his finger. Major Burfield (the 2nd in command) was killed, Lieut Graham (QM) was buried in his
trench, 2 VCOs, and a number of ORs were also killed. I quietly wept and returned the items after the Pass had
been opened.

During Sept 1969 an article of mine (which included the sad demise of A M Khan Tareen) appeared in Sayyarah
An old soldier remembers [Archive] - Salman Mahmood

Digest. After a couple of weeks the editor received a letter from M Hameed Tareen the eldest brother of Akhtar
Mohammad Tareen. He also sent a photograph of his brother. The gist of his letter is appended below.

“Dear brother you made all of us weep bitterly after 25 years, 7 months and 4 days. I am Akhtar’s eldest
brother. We had loved him dearly. Our father had died when I was a teenager. Our old mother is living with us.
I had managed to marry Akhtar’s fiancée with my other brother who is a Col in the Indian Army.”

During 1998, from Karachi, I had spoken to Mumtaz and her husband on telephone living in Delhi.

Dead body of a Japanese soldier

On or about 7th March 1944 my battalion was assigned the task of capturing a portion of hill called Boomerang
which was known to be held lightly by the enemy. Two attacks failed and lot of casualties were suffered. It was
then that the immensity of the task came to be realized. The enemy was strongly entrenched in deep bunker
positions. A very strong party of the enemy had infiltrated through the gaps between the forward four
companies and occupied the forward slope of the Battalion Headquarters hill. The Battalion Headquarters
consisted of Intelligence Section, Sniper Section, Pioneer Section, Signal Platoon (minus detachments), Animal
Transport Platoon (less detachments) and clerks. I was holding the left corner of the Battalion Headquarters
perimeter with my detachment of 15 men.

The CO (Col Rouse) thought that the enemy on the forward slope was a nuisance patrol trying to create panic.
He led a small detachment out of the perimeter to recce the area and also drive out the enemy from the forward
slope. It was moon lit night and I provided small arms fire support from the left. There was no defence platoon
with the Battalion Headquarters. The enemy was in strength and after exchange of intense fire the CO’s party
suffered lot of casualties and withdrew on our side of the slope. Enemy grenades came tumbling down but we
also threw grenades and our Mountain Gun Battery provided close accurate support and forced the enemy to
remain on the forward slope.

After a while I went down to collect grenade and .303 ammunition boxes. I saw someone lying on the ground
with a sheet on him. The RMO in whisper told me that it was the dead body of the CO. I was stunned and a
wave of grief and fear gripped me for few minutes, but I was jolted by the enemy MG fire and ran back to my
position with the ammunition. The CO was a brave man whose presence was a great source of inspiration. Such
brave men rarely survive, and especially the juniors lost an affectionate and resolute CO.

Veritable curtain of small arms fire was sent by the enemy and the fighting continued for two more days. At last
with the support of tanks and divisional artillery the objective was captured but at the end of a day’s bloody
fighting more than 130 were killed and wounded. The Battalion also lost 3 officers and 5 were wounded. The
enemy had left over 100 dead bodies and one prisoner. According to the military historian the attack on
Boomerang was one of the toughest assignments the 7/2nd was ever given. The enemy POW had revealed that
their force of over 100 soldiers was ordered to capture the Battalion Headquarters hill at all cost – or commit
Hirakare (suicide).

The enemy trenches and bunkers were full of dead bodies but each was searched for documents before burning
by sprinkling petrol. From one dead body a letter, with a photograph of a young woman holding a child, was
recovered. There were some dry leaves of a flower. The letter was obviously in Japanese language and I quietly
kept it in my pocket, and the sword of the dead Japanese officer was taken as a trophy.

After the war I was posted as SSO Taiping in north Malaya where 7th Divisional Headquarters (Maj Gen Lovett),
a brigade and administrative unit were located. Col Usman (killed as Indian brigade commander in Kashmir War
1948) was the AQ and major Raina (later COS Indian Army) was the DQ. As SSO I came directly under the AQ.
I was responsible for distributing Japanese parties (from the POW Camp) for labour duties to units on demand.
A Japanese full Col with an interpreter used to come and report to me the available parade state for duties. One
day I gave the letter, I had recovered from the Japanese dead body, to the interpreter. He translated it for me.
The letter was from the wife of Ata Gassi (this is what I remember) who sent it on the first birthday of their son
born in the absence of his father. She had written “I show your photograph to our son and he has started
recognizing you. I am sending you a few leaves of your favourite flower. All are fine here. I get your letters very
late. When are you coming on leave? I miss you a lot – I am sending this letter by hand of an officer who is
going to join your unit – Look after yourself -.”

When the interpreter finished the letter there were tears in my eyes. Napoleon said, “What is war? It is an act of
barbarians – But after victory there are no enemies, but only men.” Needless to say that on our side as well
many identical tragedies had happened. I gave the letter to the interpreter and asked him to return it to the
family of the killed Japanese officer if traced out in Japan.
An old soldier remembers [Archive] - Salman Mahmood

Special Note
In view of the limited space, in this article, I have only mentioned a few names pertaining to the battles fought
during the 2nd Great War in Burma. In some subsequent article I shall highlight the names of some comrades in
arm who lost their lives during the Kashmir 1948 War, Sept 1965 War and Dec 1971 War.

Conclusion
“If war has its chivalry and its pageantry, it has also revolting hideousness and demoniac woe. Bullets respect
not beauty. They tear out the eyes and shatter the jaw, and rend the cheek and transform the human force
divine into an aspect upon which one cannot gaze but with horror. – Mercy abandons the arena of battle. – The
victim of barbaric war thinks of mother, and father, and sister and home, and shrieks and moans, and dies; his
mangled corpse is covered with a few shovelful of earth, and left as food for vultures and for dogs, and he is
forgotten for ever – and it is called Glory.” (Napoleon – Marengo)

http://www.pakdef.info/forum/archive/index.php/t-6424.html 5/20/2009