Gurkhas Revisited


During long mosquito-infested nights in the Malayan ulu doing National Service with 6GR, I developed the belief that I could only really claim that I had served with the Gurkhas if I had been to Nepal and attempted to understand what drives these indomitable men.   As the years went by and I followed a career which took me to many different countries, but none near Nepal, the dream began to fade.   But a millennium reunion of commercial friends with whom I had worked in Kuala Lumpur in the early 70’s suddenly opened up an unplanned opportunity.

Nine of us aged between 59 and 66, six English and three Australian, hatched a plot to go trekking.   Hardly original but, if you have never done it before, it seemed and was in the event both exciting and satisfying.

Our leader had been a subaltern in the gunners in Malaya in 1956, but was the British Airways manager in KL when I first met him in 1972.  Of the same KL vintage we comprised myself a career executive with Commonwealth Development Corporation, the Hilton Hotel general manager, Sime Darby’s finance director, two engineers, an accountant, a chartered surveyor and a diamond buyer.

This unlikely group of men well past their sell-by date successfully navigated the historic trade route which crosses the Himalayan range from the arid north to the fertile south.   We began at Jomsum(8,900ft), trekked north to Kagbeni and returned to Jomsom via Muktinath(12,400ft), thence proceeding south via Tukuche, Tatopani, Shika (Magar village), Ghorepani, Poon Hill (named after Gurkha Major Poon), Tadapani, Ghandrung (Gurung village), Landrung, Tolka and Dhampus to Pokhara.

We stayed in tea houses thus minimising the number of porters needed.    If I were to repeat the trip I would wish to camp thus gaining some control over sanitation, an observation that will be well understood by experienced hands. 

 We carried a hand-held GPS that worked elegantly except in the shadow of mountains when a reading of say 9,000ft was retained until we emerged in an open area where satellite connection was restored and a new reading of say 8,000ft and a new location was suddenly shown.   Oh for a GPS in the Cameron Highlands in 1958!    We also carried a satellite phone as a precaution against possible exigencies of war, the attack on Afghanistan and the revolt of Nepalese Maoists both coinciding with our epic expedition.   The satellite phone was used, but only once when one of our team received a call from his wife asking for instructions on placing a very substantial sum of money he had succeeded in extracting from Equitable Life!

I will not attempt to describe the splendour of the Himalayas in October.    Those of you who know will understand, and those of you who don’t really should visit before it is too late, every year over 60 making a trek at altitude increasingly tough.

I will recount however a chance meeting with a 1/6th Sergeant, Harkasing Gurung (now aged 67) in his village of Tolka.   My formerly fluent barrack room gurkhali was exposed for what it had become in the intervening 42 years---zero.   But he spoke fairly good English and we talked about old times in Malaya and his quarterly trek to Pokhara to collect his pension.

I should also recount a splendid evening with Gurkha Major Dal Bahadur Gurung MVO at his house in Kathmandu.    Dal had helped me get maps before UK departure and was generous enough to offer me and two pals dinner with his family including Capt. Til Bahadur Gurung, recently retired.    I took along a gunner and an airman;   Dal, though ever the gentleman, left them in no doubt that they had not served with the bravest of the brave.   And hereby hangs my tale.

In the course of dinner, Dal regaled us with tales of derring do during confrontation in Borneo when he and his men accounted for a dozen or more of the Indonesian enemy.   Blood-thirsty stuff, and the sort of thing I associated with death on the parade square at the climax of Dashera, the Gurkha festival at the heart of every regimental year.    Imagine my surprise, therefore, on leaving Dal’s household when his wife presented each of us with a Buddhist scarf!   Yes, Dal is a Buddhist and in retirement would not hurt a fly.    I was left with the impression that just as British recruits joining the army tend to declare themselves CofE, Gurkhas joining the Regiment make a Hindu declaration.   No complications!

Before our return to UK we saw Dal once again, training hard on the golf course in preparation for Jack Furtado’s visit, but Jack will doubtless tell his own tale of a journey to the Tibetan border.

 

Richard Beacham

6.12.2001