Wg Cdr Arthur Gill, OBE, DFC
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Stanwell (#199),
thereby emulating:
Danny.
...One of the kids I was in the school cadets with, went from private to Chief of our Defence Force and, subsequently, Governor-General of Australia...
...[Sir William] Robertson [1860 - 1833] was the first and only British Army soldier to rise from private soldier to field marshal...
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Buster11 (#200),
Which could well be said of many of our senior members here ! and of the stalwarts on the "master" Thread on this Forum ("Gaining a RAF Pilot's Brevet....", of course !) whose wise Moderators have long since given up on their incorrgible old (and not so young !) Posters, and allowed them to wander where they will, secure in the knowledge that they will always return.
"Banana Oil" - Touché ! you are quite right, Buster. The beauty of this Forum is that there is always someone who can answer a question, or put you right if you stumble. Thanks !
Danny.
...On a point of accuracy, in a thread which is drifting, gossamer-like, in various interesting directions...
"Banana Oil" - Touché ! you are quite right, Buster. The beauty of this Forum is that there is always someone who can answer a question, or put you right if you stumble. Thanks !
Danny.
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Buster11
Quite so... where did it all go wrong? And why is the UK in such disarray at the moment? No, no... we won't go there! Back to the topic of 'Arthur Gill'. (Though, of course, a little digression does no one any harm... just so long as it isn't dull!)
In 1942, Arthur escaped from Sumatra by ship, in the wake of the Japanese invasion of that island. The remnants of 84 Sqdn, a handful of Blenheims, had flown across to Java to continue the fight. But as Arthur's own aircraft had been lost at the hands of another pilot, he was put in charge of the evacuation of surplus personnel, and thus got out to the safety of India. They landed at Karachi, and were accommodated at 301 Maintenance Unit. Arthur was given work ferrying aircraft across from the Middle East and also around to squadrons in India. At this time, in March 1942, his log book shows a terse entry: 'Hurricane IIB... Karachi - Jodpur - Chorahat (Forced Landed)'.
Arthur later filled in the details:
'Together with three other Hurricanes, I took off from 301 MU, Karachi, bound for Allahabad. We had no navigational aids available, such as radio beacons, but the forecast was good. However, after some hours the visibility deteriorated to nil due to heat haze. We couldn't identify any useful features on the ground and it became evident that we had to put down as fuel was very low. We descended to about 1000' and spotted a suitably flat cultivated field close to a small village. I told the other pilots to watch my landing and take their time to follow me in. I got down without incident, as did the next two aircraft. But the fourth evidently approached much too slowly. To my dismay, I saw it stall and go into the ground. The aircraft didn't burn, but we discovered that the pilot had struck his head on the windscreen, killing him in the process. In the village, an Indian police constable passed my message to the RAF Station at Allahabad. After which we had nothing to do but wait for three days, until a convoy arrived. They refueled the aircraft and took the body of the dead pilot for burial at Allahabad. We took off and continued our journey. Later I wrote to the Rao Sahib of Chorahat, the local ruler, to convey my thanks to the villagers who had fed and accommodated us.
Some weeks later I received an invitation from him to dine at his fort. I duly accepted and later found myself beside him, each with a separate table laden with numerous dishes of Indian delicacies. All went well until it came to dessert. This consisted of a square of sweetened gram flour, which appeared to have a piece of silver cigarette packet foil covering the top. I hesitated, not knowing quite what to make of it. Seeing my concern, the Rao Sahib, felt obliged to apologise. He explained: 'I'm very sorry, I can't afford gold'. It turned out that the 'cigarette packet foil' was beaten silver and it was deemed to be perfectly good to eat, its purity being an attractant for any impurities otherwise ingested. I tucked-in, reassuring myself with the thought that in India, 'every aristocratic stomach has a silver lining'!
A light-hearted end to an otherwise unfortunate story.
Quite so... where did it all go wrong? And why is the UK in such disarray at the moment? No, no... we won't go there! Back to the topic of 'Arthur Gill'. (Though, of course, a little digression does no one any harm... just so long as it isn't dull!)
In 1942, Arthur escaped from Sumatra by ship, in the wake of the Japanese invasion of that island. The remnants of 84 Sqdn, a handful of Blenheims, had flown across to Java to continue the fight. But as Arthur's own aircraft had been lost at the hands of another pilot, he was put in charge of the evacuation of surplus personnel, and thus got out to the safety of India. They landed at Karachi, and were accommodated at 301 Maintenance Unit. Arthur was given work ferrying aircraft across from the Middle East and also around to squadrons in India. At this time, in March 1942, his log book shows a terse entry: 'Hurricane IIB... Karachi - Jodpur - Chorahat (Forced Landed)'.
Arthur later filled in the details:
'Together with three other Hurricanes, I took off from 301 MU, Karachi, bound for Allahabad. We had no navigational aids available, such as radio beacons, but the forecast was good. However, after some hours the visibility deteriorated to nil due to heat haze. We couldn't identify any useful features on the ground and it became evident that we had to put down as fuel was very low. We descended to about 1000' and spotted a suitably flat cultivated field close to a small village. I told the other pilots to watch my landing and take their time to follow me in. I got down without incident, as did the next two aircraft. But the fourth evidently approached much too slowly. To my dismay, I saw it stall and go into the ground. The aircraft didn't burn, but we discovered that the pilot had struck his head on the windscreen, killing him in the process. In the village, an Indian police constable passed my message to the RAF Station at Allahabad. After which we had nothing to do but wait for three days, until a convoy arrived. They refueled the aircraft and took the body of the dead pilot for burial at Allahabad. We took off and continued our journey. Later I wrote to the Rao Sahib of Chorahat, the local ruler, to convey my thanks to the villagers who had fed and accommodated us.
Some weeks later I received an invitation from him to dine at his fort. I duly accepted and later found myself beside him, each with a separate table laden with numerous dishes of Indian delicacies. All went well until it came to dessert. This consisted of a square of sweetened gram flour, which appeared to have a piece of silver cigarette packet foil covering the top. I hesitated, not knowing quite what to make of it. Seeing my concern, the Rao Sahib, felt obliged to apologise. He explained: 'I'm very sorry, I can't afford gold'. It turned out that the 'cigarette packet foil' was beaten silver and it was deemed to be perfectly good to eat, its purity being an attractant for any impurities otherwise ingested. I tucked-in, reassuring myself with the thought that in India, 'every aristocratic stomach has a silver lining'!
A light-hearted end to an otherwise unfortunate story.
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A nice tale of the Days of Empire, sadly diminished by the fate of #4.
Such a shame they all wanted to get rid of us 'after the War'.
Such a shame they all wanted to get rid of us 'after the War'.
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NigG,
"Chorahat" rang no bells at first, never heard of it, thought it might be "Chorhat" (alternative spelling of "Jorhat" in Assam). But Google tells me it's pukka. Around Delhi somewhere.
...
But his possibly did not - hope there were no repercussions ! In any case, "sweeper" emptying his "Thunderbox" next morning would have shock of his life (never seen a foil-wrapped one before" - Sahib must have magical powers !)
Like the bit about the apology for not having gold leaf (there is a "Danziger Goldwasser", [Wiki] quite reasonable about £23 a bottle). Never tried it.
Keep up the good work on the log book,
Danny.
...his log book shows a terse entry: 'Hurricane IIB... Karachi - Jodpur - Chorahat (Forced Landed)..
...I tucked-in, reassuring myself with the thought that in India, 'every aristocratic stomach has a silver lining !
But his possibly did not - hope there were no repercussions ! In any case, "sweeper" emptying his "Thunderbox" next morning would have shock of his life (never seen a foil-wrapped one before" - Sahib must have magical powers !)
Like the bit about the apology for not having gold leaf (there is a "Danziger Goldwasser", [Wiki] quite reasonable about £23 a bottle). Never tried it.
Keep up the good work on the log book,
Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 1st Jul 2016 at 20:20. Reason: Quote Box !
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RE Goldwasser
Danny at least the 'Danzigger Goldwasser' is classed as a Liqueur (Alcohol content ??)
A former school pal of mine is involved with producing 'New Zealand Gold' a pure Artesian water with some minute Gold % - currently on sale in various parts of the 'sand pit' at around US$100 a bottle (75cl)
I have been promised a 'free sample' when it arrives in the UK
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
A former school pal of mine is involved with producing 'New Zealand Gold' a pure Artesian water with some minute Gold % - currently on sale in various parts of the 'sand pit' at around US$100 a bottle (75cl)
I have been promised a 'free sample' when it arrives in the UK
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
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I'm wondering what we'd ever do if Danny was given a fortnight's suspension. 
Maybe we'd all take a break and book a short holiday in the sun. Though here in the UK, following the Referendum, Easyjet must be on the point of shutting down. No.46 Group, possibly? 
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Yeah, we de-emigrated from Jamaica as Independence loomed. The general atmosphere was becoming slightly unpleasant.
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Danny and Matters Scatological.
Extra Title: The Deep Trench Latrine.
NigG,
...:-D I did come up with a somewhat marginal follow-on, but then my Inner Child was grasped by the scruff of the neck by my Inner Moderator and was given a glimpse of 'the place that is forever damnation'...
Without more ado, I append as an example # of what our ever-tolerant, kindly Moderators have already stomached, and I'm sure your Inner Moderator would show equal latitude to your "marginal" follow-on, if tastefully presented.
Danny.
Note # : one significant word has been changed in the original text, wannabe Sherlock Holmeses may be amused looking for it !
************
In response to a total lack of interest in the subject, but having a while back promised an article on this indelicate (but quite essential) component of our daily life in the forward areas now behind us, here is my recollection - (and those who remember Louis de Bernières' novel: "Captain Corelli's Mandolin" may remember a similar, amusing description of Italian troops).
I cannot do better by way of description than to recount an enduring sad tale that I must have heard a score of times - but never with exact details of time or place - (I believe it was current in the Middle East, too).
First, to set the stage: In a basha is dug a narrow trench, straddled by a long narrow timber box, This has an open bottom and is provided with a row of suitable holes on top. There are no doors or partitions - such civilised conventions have long been discarded in our life at the sharp end.*
Of course the normal military distinctions still had to be observed: separate DTLs for Officers and ORs (British), another set (of modified design) for the Indian Officers and ranks. (How did they manage with the Muslim/Hindu divide, and the Caste problems with the latter ? - No idea - Anglo-Indians ? I think they counted as British for this purpose.
Consequently, these places hosted convivial gatherings. Here was a forum for the discussion of important military matters; the latest rumours were disseminated (hence the term: "Latrinogram"), and the topics of the day given a good airing (no pun intended). Hinged lids were provided to try to abate the fly nuisance. Pretty well every visitor (even non-smokers) took a cigarette in with him (as a deodoriser - now you can see the advantage to "Stew" Mobsby of losing his sense of smell !) It was forbidden to throw a lighted butt down the hole, but there was always someone who forgot.
Our hero was one such. He picked himself up some fifty feet away, with a badly scorched bottom, surrounded with shattered timbers and covered all over with - well, not exactly with "sweet violets" ! He was not alone, his companions (in a like state) were not well pleased with him, and were making the fact loudly and abundantly clear. The "netty", "dunny", call it what you will, had (to use a common expression in "babu" English): "Gone from that place".
What had happened ? Methane in the trench had built up to the point where, mingled with air, it had reached the "stoichiometric ratio" at which the mixture became explosive. The dog-end provided the detonator.
Is the story true ? Well, it could have happened, couldn't it ?
Note *: And not only at the sharp end. In the Basic and Advanced flying schools of the US Army Air Corps (which were 100% military units), I recall the same companiable arrangement with rows of gleaming mahogany and porcelain thrones in the washrooms (so there was no chance of a quiet break with cigarette and newspaper). Primary Schools were basically civilian-run: more customary standards prevailed there).
I promise you that is my last word on the subject.
Goodnight once more,
Danny42C
Ah, well.
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NigG (#208),
Well, not "all", IMHO. In 1947 the population of the subcontinent was, I believe, around 400,000,000 (it was not so much "the jewel in the crown of Empire" as the whole thing). Of these, perhaps 500,000 (the most highly [often British] educated), intellectualy sophisticated class of major city-dwellers, who had been suffused with the idea of independence, and saw the advantage to themselves in it, campaigned tirelessly for it. They were skilled in the art of stoking-up popular resentment against British rule, hence the appearance of "Jai Hind" ("Quit India") daubed all over on buildings and railway trucks from 1946.
This would have been in the last days (and only in a town, I surmise). Earlier they would not have dared, the Indian Police would have tracked down the offenders and given them a damn' good hiding with their lathis.
The great, silent majority ("Village India") were content with life under thr Raj. For the first time in their history, their lives were ruled by a Power which was often insensitive, sometimes harsh and domineering, but never corrupt. They could rely on justice from a British administrator against a rich and grasping landlord or moneylender - for everyone knew a British judge could not be "bought". They had a national, effective Police Force. They had a single stable currency throughout the land (the Rupee) which was locked to sterling. There was one law for all. Above all, they had Pax Britannica, which sounds an airy-fairy concept until you lose it (in the communal riots which followed Partition, the death roll was estimated as two million; today's revisionist historians have massaged that down to a million - but I prefer the original figure).
(In 1919, a Brigadier Dyer had been excoriated for the "Amritsar Massacre", in which some 400 Indian civilians had been killed. But this was "Indian on Indian" - so it's all right, then).
Was British Rule in India perfect ? No, it wasn't. Was it immeasurably better than anything which had gone on before ? Certainly ! My old friend, Flight Lieutenant Niel (sic) Ratan Ker (RIP), Indian born and knowing the country, visited many times postwar, and told me that he often heard, from the older people: "I wish the British would come back !"
Danny.
PS: At the end of the war, I remember reading "Mother India" by (Mr) Beverley Nichols. Checking Google for "beverley nichols mother india", I am surprised to learn that "Mother India" was actually written by Katherine Mayo. Nichols had incorporated it into his "Verdict on India". The Brazilian River has a Kindle of Mayo's "Mother India" for £0.99, and of Nichols' "Verdict on India" for £3.98
Google's menu to input "beverley nichols mother india" offers first item "India's Partition: The Story of Imperialism in Retreat". Well worth a read.
D.
...Quote:
Originally Posted by MPN11 View Post
A nice tale of the Days of Empire... Such a shame they all wanted to get rid of us 'after the War'...
Originally Posted by MPN11 View Post
A nice tale of the Days of Empire... Such a shame they all wanted to get rid of us 'after the War'...
...None of my aunts or uncles had any problems on the street, except for one who was spat at by a group of passing youths...
The great, silent majority ("Village India") were content with life under thr Raj. For the first time in their history, their lives were ruled by a Power which was often insensitive, sometimes harsh and domineering, but never corrupt. They could rely on justice from a British administrator against a rich and grasping landlord or moneylender - for everyone knew a British judge could not be "bought". They had a national, effective Police Force. They had a single stable currency throughout the land (the Rupee) which was locked to sterling. There was one law for all. Above all, they had Pax Britannica, which sounds an airy-fairy concept until you lose it (in the communal riots which followed Partition, the death roll was estimated as two million; today's revisionist historians have massaged that down to a million - but I prefer the original figure).
(In 1919, a Brigadier Dyer had been excoriated for the "Amritsar Massacre", in which some 400 Indian civilians had been killed. But this was "Indian on Indian" - so it's all right, then).
Was British Rule in India perfect ? No, it wasn't. Was it immeasurably better than anything which had gone on before ? Certainly ! My old friend, Flight Lieutenant Niel (sic) Ratan Ker (RIP), Indian born and knowing the country, visited many times postwar, and told me that he often heard, from the older people: "I wish the British would come back !"
Danny.
PS: At the end of the war, I remember reading "Mother India" by (Mr) Beverley Nichols. Checking Google for "beverley nichols mother india", I am surprised to learn that "Mother India" was actually written by Katherine Mayo. Nichols had incorporated it into his "Verdict on India". The Brazilian River has a Kindle of Mayo's "Mother India" for £0.99, and of Nichols' "Verdict on India" for £3.98
Google's menu to input "beverley nichols mother india" offers first item "India's Partition: The Story of Imperialism in Retreat". Well worth a read.
D.
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India was probably a unique case in the context of Empire, due to size, complexity, the established Raj and the Viceroy.
My thoughts were more directed to those other smaller places, in Africa and the Caribbean, with long-forgotten names, and the Wind of Change that blew through Africa. Ah, how well they did after achieving their independence.
How we now applaud the status and stability of the former British Somaliland, Northern Rhodesia, Nigeria, The Southern Cameroons, Nyasaland [what's that now?], Uganda, The Gambia and Serra Leone. [/sarcasm]
Maps >>>
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Britis...mpire_1921.png
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Britis..._in_Africa.png
My thoughts were more directed to those other smaller places, in Africa and the Caribbean, with long-forgotten names, and the Wind of Change that blew through Africa. Ah, how well they did after achieving their independence.
How we now applaud the status and stability of the former British Somaliland, Northern Rhodesia, Nigeria, The Southern Cameroons, Nyasaland [what's that now?], Uganda, The Gambia and Serra Leone. [/sarcasm]
Maps >>>
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Britis...mpire_1921.png
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Britis..._in_Africa.png
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Danny and MPN
Fascinating insight into your wartime ablutions! The latrine story has a ring of truth (no rude pun intended). I recall that in my youth I had heard about one's ability to set light to such gases, at the moment of emission, with a lighter. Fool that I was, I tried it and the consequent explosive flare rewarded me with a good burn to both my hand and to my ring of truth.
Yes, there were, no doubt, some benefits of imperialism to a colonised country... and Britain was apparently one of the better masters to have. But on balance, we shouldn't lull ourselves into thinking that colonisation was a good thing. At its heart was trade, and trade that was at the expense of the country concerned. An example in India was the cotton trade, where cotton was grown in India, shipped to the mills of northern England, then shipped back again as cloth to sell to the Indian population. The quality of the manufactured product was vastly better than 'home spun' cloth produced by Indian villagers, so that particular local industry collapsed.
So the Empire not only fed British industry with affordable raw materials, it also provided markets to sell to... markets that were 'protected' from the goods of foreign competitors. Most of the grand buildings in British cities, and the fine country houses, now in the hands of the National Trust, were, of course, financed by the profits of Empire. As you rightly observe, colonial rule tended to be with a rod of iron. Vast countries were being controlled by tiny cadres of Brits, so the illusion of superiority, and the immediate suppression of any signs of insurrection was vital.
I've mentioned 84 Sqdn a lot in this Thread. In fact, between the world wars, they were put to use in Iraq, as an 'enforcer and peace-keeper' of the British imperial government. Their work included the following. The village of a head man who failed to pay his taxes, would be visited by an aircraft which would drop leaflets warning that the village would be destroyed by bombing if he failed to cough-up by a designated date. If that didn't deliver the money, a squadron of Wapitis were sent to the village and more leaflets would be dropped telling the villagers to evacuate prior to the commencement of the air strike. They were given 30 minutes, the aircraft circling overhead as the villagers drove their herds out and moved their prized possessions. The bombing would then commence, the villagers watching from several hundred metres away. HE destroyed the roofs and incendiaries set light to the timbers. (I should add that other miscreants who received similar treatment included Shiek Mahmoud who wanted Kurdistan for the Kurds (sound familiar?) and also any village that provided food to some nasty outlaws called the KFB.)
Should you doubt the accuracy of this information, I've taken it from the book 'Flying Fever' by AVM S F Vincent, who flew on such raids and later became 84 Sqdn CO. (The same Vincent who commanded 221 Group in the Burma campaign, with such success). He personally flew on fifty such raids and he did find them distasteful. One can easily see that the return of a British presence to Iraq in the recent war and occupation, stirred old memories and the conduct of our ancestors exacerbated anti-British sentiments.
Fascinating insight into your wartime ablutions! The latrine story has a ring of truth (no rude pun intended). I recall that in my youth I had heard about one's ability to set light to such gases, at the moment of emission, with a lighter. Fool that I was, I tried it and the consequent explosive flare rewarded me with a good burn to both my hand and to my ring of truth.
Yes, there were, no doubt, some benefits of imperialism to a colonised country... and Britain was apparently one of the better masters to have. But on balance, we shouldn't lull ourselves into thinking that colonisation was a good thing. At its heart was trade, and trade that was at the expense of the country concerned. An example in India was the cotton trade, where cotton was grown in India, shipped to the mills of northern England, then shipped back again as cloth to sell to the Indian population. The quality of the manufactured product was vastly better than 'home spun' cloth produced by Indian villagers, so that particular local industry collapsed.
So the Empire not only fed British industry with affordable raw materials, it also provided markets to sell to... markets that were 'protected' from the goods of foreign competitors. Most of the grand buildings in British cities, and the fine country houses, now in the hands of the National Trust, were, of course, financed by the profits of Empire. As you rightly observe, colonial rule tended to be with a rod of iron. Vast countries were being controlled by tiny cadres of Brits, so the illusion of superiority, and the immediate suppression of any signs of insurrection was vital.
I've mentioned 84 Sqdn a lot in this Thread. In fact, between the world wars, they were put to use in Iraq, as an 'enforcer and peace-keeper' of the British imperial government. Their work included the following. The village of a head man who failed to pay his taxes, would be visited by an aircraft which would drop leaflets warning that the village would be destroyed by bombing if he failed to cough-up by a designated date. If that didn't deliver the money, a squadron of Wapitis were sent to the village and more leaflets would be dropped telling the villagers to evacuate prior to the commencement of the air strike. They were given 30 minutes, the aircraft circling overhead as the villagers drove their herds out and moved their prized possessions. The bombing would then commence, the villagers watching from several hundred metres away. HE destroyed the roofs and incendiaries set light to the timbers. (I should add that other miscreants who received similar treatment included Shiek Mahmoud who wanted Kurdistan for the Kurds (sound familiar?) and also any village that provided food to some nasty outlaws called the KFB.)
Should you doubt the accuracy of this information, I've taken it from the book 'Flying Fever' by AVM S F Vincent, who flew on such raids and later became 84 Sqdn CO. (The same Vincent who commanded 221 Group in the Burma campaign, with such success). He personally flew on fifty such raids and he did find them distasteful. One can easily see that the return of a British presence to Iraq in the recent war and occupation, stirred old memories and the conduct of our ancestors exacerbated anti-British sentiments.
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NigG ... no argument with your perspective at all. I merely tried to highlight how "well" they did after we left, especially those with endemic corruption and a complete failure to develop any further. 
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The Good Old Days.
NigG (#213) and MPN11 (#214),
Not exactly - Google/Wiki "British Mandate for Palestine (legal instrument)".
which leads me to Pilot's Brevet 5 Jan 2013 #3369:
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
Danny.
...I've mentioned 84 Sqdn a lot in this Thread. In fact, between the world wars, they were put to use in Iraq, as an 'enforcer and peace-keeper' of the British imperial government...
...Their work included the following. The village of a head man who failed to pay his taxes.......incendiaries set light to the timbers...
...Danny and a little history of 20 Sqdn.
So what would be the nature of the "co-operation" that 20 Squadron had provided for the Army in India? Essentially the age-old Frontier duty: "Subduing the Tribes". This sounds barbarous, but was really quite a gentlemany procedure.
From time immemorial, the hill tribes on the NW frontier of present day Pakistan had plagued the plains villages below, raping and pillaging, plundering livestock and grain stores and generally making nuisances of themselves. They were a constant thorn in the side of the Raj, which generally came off second-best when it went into the hills after them, but was able to contain them in their fastnesses, as we controlled the plains.
The arrival of the aeroplane altered the balance of power. An aircraft would fly over the tribal village responsible and drop leaflets saying: "We are coming over next Thursday afternoon to knock the place down". This gave them ample time to move people, livestock, charpoys, food stores, tools and possessions over to the next hilltop on the appointed day.
Then a flight of Wapities or Harts would come over and drop a lot of small bombs to do a good deal of damage. No blood would be lost, the villagers still had all the means to resume daily life, but the menfolk had to turn to and rebuild their houses. This was too much like hard work; the message got home that they had better behave themselves in future.
I cannot vouch for any of this, for it was all related to me by a Very Old India Hand I met on the boat home. What I do know is that a very similar policy was adopted in Mesopotamia (aka Irak), when we held the League of Nations mandate to administer that former province of the Ottoman Empire for thirteen (?) years in the twenties and thirties after WW1. Moreover, it was more efficient, and cheaper than sending in punitive expeditions, and the Treasury loved that...
So what would be the nature of the "co-operation" that 20 Squadron had provided for the Army in India? Essentially the age-old Frontier duty: "Subduing the Tribes". This sounds barbarous, but was really quite a gentlemany procedure.
From time immemorial, the hill tribes on the NW frontier of present day Pakistan had plagued the plains villages below, raping and pillaging, plundering livestock and grain stores and generally making nuisances of themselves. They were a constant thorn in the side of the Raj, which generally came off second-best when it went into the hills after them, but was able to contain them in their fastnesses, as we controlled the plains.
The arrival of the aeroplane altered the balance of power. An aircraft would fly over the tribal village responsible and drop leaflets saying: "We are coming over next Thursday afternoon to knock the place down". This gave them ample time to move people, livestock, charpoys, food stores, tools and possessions over to the next hilltop on the appointed day.
Then a flight of Wapities or Harts would come over and drop a lot of small bombs to do a good deal of damage. No blood would be lost, the villagers still had all the means to resume daily life, but the menfolk had to turn to and rebuild their houses. This was too much like hard work; the message got home that they had better behave themselves in future.
I cannot vouch for any of this, for it was all related to me by a Very Old India Hand I met on the boat home. What I do know is that a very similar policy was adopted in Mesopotamia (aka Irak), when we held the League of Nations mandate to administer that former province of the Ottoman Empire for thirteen (?) years in the twenties and thirties after WW1. Moreover, it was more efficient, and cheaper than sending in punitive expeditions, and the Treasury loved that...
Danny.
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Danny and MPN
Quite so, MPN... I take your point. Independence 'Freedom' Fighters don't necessarily make responsible and honourable politicians... and insufficient checks and balances gives free-reign to corruption. By comparison, I rather wonder if British colonial administrators actually needed to resort to corruption. They had a comfortable life, with servants, and were assured of a pleasant retirement back in Cheltenham, or wherever. That's not to suggest they didn't work hard, or that the hot season wasn't hard to bear. Nor that they weren't imbued with a sense of honour and self-discipline.
I'm reminded of my grandfather, who went out to India in the 1920s as a WOII in the Artillery. The (British) Indian Army needed more staff for its Ordnance Corps and invited applicants to transfer. By the look of it, it was a 'no brainer'. Having transferred he acquired a typical colonial bungalow, with the servants as follows: an Ayah (nursemaid), a Bearer (waiter), a Mahli (gardener), a Sweeper (cleaner) and a Kansamah (cook). Had the family been living back in the UK, having even a single servant would have been well beyond their means. There were other attractive bonuses too, such a year's leave back in the UK every six years, and good boarding schools for the children. With promotion to WOI, he was even able to afford a car. Materially, it was a jump into the realms of the affluent middle class.
I can't resist adding a shot of him! Having walked around many of the British Indian hill stations (before they were spoilt by modern development) I have such regret not to have been there in the old days. My generation has had the opportunity of higher education, the older generations had the opportunities of Empire!
Thanks for the comments/correction, Danny. (Fount of all knowledge!)
Quite so, MPN... I take your point. Independence 'Freedom' Fighters don't necessarily make responsible and honourable politicians... and insufficient checks and balances gives free-reign to corruption. By comparison, I rather wonder if British colonial administrators actually needed to resort to corruption. They had a comfortable life, with servants, and were assured of a pleasant retirement back in Cheltenham, or wherever. That's not to suggest they didn't work hard, or that the hot season wasn't hard to bear. Nor that they weren't imbued with a sense of honour and self-discipline.
I'm reminded of my grandfather, who went out to India in the 1920s as a WOII in the Artillery. The (British) Indian Army needed more staff for its Ordnance Corps and invited applicants to transfer. By the look of it, it was a 'no brainer'. Having transferred he acquired a typical colonial bungalow, with the servants as follows: an Ayah (nursemaid), a Bearer (waiter), a Mahli (gardener), a Sweeper (cleaner) and a Kansamah (cook). Had the family been living back in the UK, having even a single servant would have been well beyond their means. There were other attractive bonuses too, such a year's leave back in the UK every six years, and good boarding schools for the children. With promotion to WOI, he was even able to afford a car. Materially, it was a jump into the realms of the affluent middle class.
I can't resist adding a shot of him! Having walked around many of the British Indian hill stations (before they were spoilt by modern development) I have such regret not to have been there in the old days. My generation has had the opportunity of higher education, the older generations had the opportunities of Empire!
Thanks for the comments/correction, Danny. (Fount of all knowledge!)
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The White Man's Burden.
NigG,
What a field for comment and question you present to us in your #216 ! First shot out of the locker:
It was said at the time: "Self Government is better than Good Government". For the few, perhaps, but not for the many - of which sub-Saharan Africa today is a vivid illustration.
I remember a statistic quoted in Beverley Nichol's (or rather Katherine Mayo's ?) "Mother India", to the effect that: "The steel brace which held the whole edifice together, was the India Civil Service, numbering no more than 500 men" (devout skinflint though I am, I may lash out for the two Kindles [£0.99 and £3.98] I mentioned before and correct the quotation sometime).
These were picked men, the cream of the Oxbridge output of the year, who would all be alumni of the Victorian and Edwardian Public Schools which had been set up for this very purpose, to inculcate the idea of "playing a straight bat" - "behaving with honour and self-discipline", as you put it. They were the "top people", chosen above the entrants to the British Civil Service Administrative Class, the future Sir Humphries, ("men with "humble titles and immense power") whom I hope are running this country, as no one else seems to be at the moment !
Kipling alludes to this in his much derided poem "The White Man's Burden" (sometimes regarded as a covert plea to the US to take over the Empire from us)
There are many more bones to be picked out of your excellent Post, but this will do to be going on with !
Danny.
What a field for comment and question you present to us in your #216 ! First shot out of the locker:
... I take your point. Independence 'Freedom' Fighters don't necessarily make responsible and honourable politicians...
...That's not to suggest they didn't work hard, or that the hot season wasn't hard to bear. Nor that they weren't imbued with a sense of honour and self-discipline..
These were picked men, the cream of the Oxbridge output of the year, who would all be alumni of the Victorian and Edwardian Public Schools which had been set up for this very purpose, to inculcate the idea of "playing a straight bat" - "behaving with honour and self-discipline", as you put it. They were the "top people", chosen above the entrants to the British Civil Service Administrative Class, the future Sir Humphries, ("men with "humble titles and immense power") whom I hope are running this country, as no one else seems to be at the moment !
Kipling alludes to this in his much derided poem "The White Man's Burden" (sometimes regarded as a covert plea to the US to take over the Empire from us)
"Take up the White Man’s burden—
Send forth the best ye breed—
Go send your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need"
..................and later:
"Take up the White Man’s burden—
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better
The hate of those ye guard"
Send forth the best ye breed—
Go send your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need"
..................and later:
"Take up the White Man’s burden—
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better
The hate of those ye guard"
There are many more bones to be picked out of your excellent Post, but this will do to be going on with !
Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 4th Jul 2016 at 16:56. Reason: Where did that ruddy Smiley come from ?
That great man of the game FS Trueman of Yorkshire said of a visit to play in India that not even bowels of concrete could slow the passage of the food on offer. . One of his memorable stories (and he had a million of them)
concerned the English bowler Alf Gover . In India in I think 1948 with the Honourable Lionel Tennyson his captain .
India won the toss and batted. Gover opened the bowling,. As FS told it Gover paced his run up and declared it good. Turning he started his long run in arms and legs going like pistons .. . he passed his crease increasing speed down the pitch past the startled batsman on strike. He brushed aside third man and dodged two more leaving the field to enter the pavilion still at a cracking pace . . . After a minute or two the captain decided to see what had happened to Gover. He goes into the dressing room . . Gover. .. . where are you Gover? I'm in the ****house sir. What are you doing in there Gover? I've shat my pants sir. . . . Oh thats a pity Gover. Could we have the ball back now .. we want to get on with the game.
concerned the English bowler Alf Gover . In India in I think 1948 with the Honourable Lionel Tennyson his captain .
India won the toss and batted. Gover opened the bowling,. As FS told it Gover paced his run up and declared it good. Turning he started his long run in arms and legs going like pistons .. . he passed his crease increasing speed down the pitch past the startled batsman on strike. He brushed aside third man and dodged two more leaving the field to enter the pavilion still at a cracking pace . . . After a minute or two the captain decided to see what had happened to Gover. He goes into the dressing room . . Gover. .. . where are you Gover? I'm in the ****house sir. What are you doing in there Gover? I've shat my pants sir. . . . Oh thats a pity Gover. Could we have the ball back now .. we want to get on with the game.
Last edited by Fantome; 5th Jul 2016 at 11:28.
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NigG,
As a Warrant Officer in the RIAOC, he would have carried the traditional title of "Conductor" or Sub-Conductor". Perhaps it might be useful to recall that, after the 1857 Mutiny (or "First War of Independence" [whichever way you look at it], when the former East India Company was effectively "nationalised"), there were two armies in British India. The former was the "Indian Army" ("John Company's" old Army), who were "Regulars", all Indian troops with all-British officers, who would spend their whole careers out in India.
They were supplemented by battalions of British Army regiments, which came out on "tours" of three years or so, and then be relieved by another in rotation. A long service soldier, or a "career" officer could reckon on serving half his time in India.
There was an unspoken purpose in this arrangement. Britain was afraid of a second Mutiny. They had come within a whisker of losing India in the first one. Now that the reasoning was: a mutineeering Indian army would, by definition, be without its British officers (whose throats they had cut). Unled, they would degenerate into a rabble. An all-British army only half its size should easily prevail over it. It was not until the thirties, IIRC, that the first Indian Army officers received the King's Commission. This is usually attributed to racial prejudice, but it was not so.
And the North-West Frontier provided a perfect training ground for the British army. Why run around on Salisbury plain or the Brecon Beacons, firing blanks, when here you had a real live enemy and live rounds were flying round you ? The chaps would learn real soldiering much more quickly this way ! And the training was much cheaper, too.
One small point: "Bearer" is translated as "waiter" and that is correct. You would use the word to call a waiter in a restaurant. But a single officer would have one to himself, and an Other Rank a share of one, as his "batman" (personal servant and factotum), his "Jeeves". A good bearer was worth his weight in rupees: in my time the going rate was Rs20 a month (£1/10/- or $6 'over the pond').
Somewhere in the past I have Posted a rather nice little story. A young officer fresh out of Sandhurst had been posted to a British battalion going out for a "tour". An equally young local was engaged as his "bearer". He learned very fast, and the two got on very well together for the three years. Then the Lieutenant went home and thought no more about it. Exceptionally, he did not go out again for twenty years, and then (a Lieutenant-Colonel) returned to India to take command of his battalion.
Waiting for him at the foot of the gangplank in Bombay was his old bearer, ready to take charge of his kit. He had heard (in some mysterious way) of his old Sahib's impending return, and travelled a thousand miles from his village (probably on top of, or hanging on to a train), confident that they could pick up where they left off. It was so, and they went on together to the Colonel's posting, the bearer now in the comfort of the bearer's compartment at the back of his Sahib's first-class carriage. So the story (true, I'm told) ends.
Much more in your Post to go at, but that will do for the moment.
Danny.
...The (British) Indian Army needed more staff for its Ordnance Corps and invited applicants to transfer...
They were supplemented by battalions of British Army regiments, which came out on "tours" of three years or so, and then be relieved by another in rotation. A long service soldier, or a "career" officer could reckon on serving half his time in India.
There was an unspoken purpose in this arrangement. Britain was afraid of a second Mutiny. They had come within a whisker of losing India in the first one. Now that the reasoning was: a mutineeering Indian army would, by definition, be without its British officers (whose throats they had cut). Unled, they would degenerate into a rabble. An all-British army only half its size should easily prevail over it. It was not until the thirties, IIRC, that the first Indian Army officers received the King's Commission. This is usually attributed to racial prejudice, but it was not so.
And the North-West Frontier provided a perfect training ground for the British army. Why run around on Salisbury plain or the Brecon Beacons, firing blanks, when here you had a real live enemy and live rounds were flying round you ? The chaps would learn real soldiering much more quickly this way ! And the training was much cheaper, too.
...By the look of it, it was a 'no brainer'. Having transferred he acquired a typical colonial bungalow, with the servants as follows: an Ayah (nursemaid), a Bearer (waiter), a Mahli (gardener), a Sweeper (cleaner) and a Kansamah (cook)...
Somewhere in the past I have Posted a rather nice little story. A young officer fresh out of Sandhurst had been posted to a British battalion going out for a "tour". An equally young local was engaged as his "bearer". He learned very fast, and the two got on very well together for the three years. Then the Lieutenant went home and thought no more about it. Exceptionally, he did not go out again for twenty years, and then (a Lieutenant-Colonel) returned to India to take command of his battalion.
Waiting for him at the foot of the gangplank in Bombay was his old bearer, ready to take charge of his kit. He had heard (in some mysterious way) of his old Sahib's impending return, and travelled a thousand miles from his village (probably on top of, or hanging on to a train), confident that they could pick up where they left off. It was so, and they went on together to the Colonel's posting, the bearer now in the comfort of the bearer's compartment at the back of his Sahib's first-class carriage. So the story (true, I'm told) ends.
Much more in your Post to go at, but that will do for the moment.
Danny.
Danny - your story reminds me that when I rejoined the RAF in 1980, after an 11 year gap, I turned up at Cranwell and parked at the back of SHQ, As I opened the car door it was "taken" from me and as I stepped out I was greeted by my Batman from cadet days, Pop Amies. "Good morning, Sir. I hear you were returning and I thought it only right that I should welcome you back". How he knew I do not know, but I walked into SHQ with a huge lump in my throat. Bless you, Pop.