Weekly Standard

Britain's most terrifying warriors prepare to take on the Taliban. by Victorino Matus 10/12/2001

FOR THE PAST FEW MONTHS, the British army and navy have been conducting joint exercises in the sultanate of Oman. The operation is called Swift Sword II, and by happy coincidence, it happens to put 23,000 British soldiers in the vicinity of Afghanistan. Many of them are now expecting to take part in the ground war and have been training furiously since September 11.

In fact, just last week a war game took place in the heart of the Omani desert. The objective was a two-man post held by the Lancers, an armored infantry unit. One-hundred yards away, a platoon of elite special forces dismounted from personnel carriers and charged the post. The first four soldiers to reach the Lancers threw their SA80 rifles to the ground, whipped out curved, razor-sharp short-swords for hand-to-hand combat, jumped into the nest, and simulated slitting the Lancers' throats. Observers on the sidelines were rendered speechless.

These knife-wielding warriors are members of the Royal Gurkha Rifles. And they're not British--they're Nepalese. Their signature blade is called the kukri. Gurkhas have been known to decapitate their enemies with it (it can also double as a deadly boomerang).

Mere mention of the Gurkhas strikes fear and awe in the hearts of many. As one retired Gurkha officer explained to the Los Angeles Times, "When they're ready to go into battle, their eyes turn red. Then they keep coming. They can never be stopped." Indeed, having fought alongside Great Britain for almost 200 years, the Gurkhas are known throughout the world as legendary soldiers. Their motto: "It's better to die than be a coward."

The legend dates to 1814, when the East India Company, which oversaw the subcontinent under the auspices of the British Empire, went to war against the kingdom of Nepal after repeated raids by Gurkha tribes into Bengal and Bihar. A year later, the boundary dispute was settled and a peace treaty was ratified. But the British went further. Impressed by the Nepalese warriors, they asked them to volunteer for the East India Company. And so, in 1815, the Regiment of Gurkhas was born.

The first test of loyalty came during the 1857 Indian mutiny, and the Gurkhas did not disappoint. They remained on the side of the British even through the bloodiest campaigns, taking part in the siege of Delhi and losing more than half their battalion in the Battle of Delhi Ridge. In the First World War, the Gurkhas finally saw action outside the subcontinent. Approximately 100,000 Gurkhas battled in Ypres, Salonika, Persia, and Mesopotamia. They also fought at Gallipoli.

The Second World War saw a record 112,000 Gurkhas fighting alongside the British in North Africa, Syria, Italy, and in the brutal Burma campaign, which resulted in over 40,000 Gurkha casualties. Colonel David Horsford, who fought with them in Burma, once said that "when the Gurkhas ran out of hand grenades, they spent 20 minutes throwing stones at the Japanese troops." Major Charles Heyman, who served with the Gurkhas more recently in Borneo and is currently the editor of Jane's World Armies, notes that "the Japanese were terrified of them."

After World War II, the Gurkha regiment was scaled down. Many remained in India after that country's partition in 1947, and the rest went to Hong Kong. Gurkhas were sent to the Falkland Islands in 1982, and legend has it that hundreds of Argentinians surrendered to British forces upon hearing that a Gurkha patrol was coming their way. In recent years, the Gurkhas would see action in the Gulf War, East Timor, and even Kosovo. To date, they have earned 26 Victoria crosses.

When Britain handed Hong Kong back to the Communist mainland, the Gurkhas vacated the garrison there and relocated to Brunei and England (some even take turns standing guard at Buckingham Palace). Today, the number of Gurkhas in the British army has dwindled to about 3,500. But the British still love them. Take, for example, the words of a letter writer in The Mirror:

"Once again, Britain sends for the Gurkhas in its hour of need. These warrior soldiers will cope well with the terrain in Afghanistan and will not fail us. . . . The Gurkhas are good friends of Britain and are always ready to help us."

Last year, when Gurkha Headquarters moved from one town to another in England, huge crowds turned out to bid them farewell. Said one politician, "There is a considerable vacuum now. Local people are very proud to have had these doughty warriors living amongst us . . . we will always be proud and grateful we were part of the Gurkha family."

Though the Royal Gurkha Rifles have dwindled in number, more and more Nepalese want to join up. Recruiters looking for as few as ten men have on occasion had more than a thousand show up, some as young as 14. (It's easier to fake your age as a Gurkha--the average height is 5 feet, 3 inches.) Many are lured not only by the mystique but by the pay, more than 12 times what they would make in Nepal. The training is rigorous and includes ten-mile hikes and running up mountainsides with over a hundred pounds of rocks on one's back. Needless to say, Gurkhas are famous for enduring long marches and can do so at different paces, such as the "double march" (known as "the Keel Row") and the "quick march" (also called "the Black Bear").

The Gurkha company in Oman consists of about 150 men. Asked how they like it in the desert, some of them complain that it is hot, but add, "We are enjoying it here." The temperature is about 115 degrees. And what do they think about the latest crisis? One rifleman told a reporter from The Mirror, "The attack on America was very sad and many lives were lost. It was terrible to watch on television. So I would love to go to Afghanistan to fight." He went on to say, "From what I have read, the Taliban are bad people, so the fight would be very just. I would even ask to go first." A British officer said, "for them, it is like playing in the World Cup."

I asked Major Heyman what it would be like for the Taliban if they confronted the Gurkhas. "I'll put it to you this way," he said. "You wouldn't want to meet the Gurkhas on a dark night, especially when they've got their bloodlust up."

Victorino Matus is an assistant managing editor at The Weekly Standard.

-- Anonymous, October 12, 2001