A Gurkha solider who beheaded a Taliban gunman and carried his head back to base in a bag has been cleared to resume his duties.
The private, from 1st Battalion, Royal Gurkha Rifles, was involved in a fierce firefight with insurgents in the Babaji area of central Helmand Province when the incident took place earlier last July.
The Nepalese soldier, who is in his early 20s, apparently made the decision to remove the head in a misunderstanding over the need for DNA evidence of the kill.
Cleared: A Gurkha has been returned to duty after he beheaded a Taliban gunman with his kukri knife – the curved blade seen being used in a demonstration by Gurkha soldiers in this file photograph
His unit had been told that they were seeking a ‘high value target,’ a Taliban commander, and that they must prove they had killed the right man.
The Gurkhas had intended to remove the Taliban leader’s body from the battlefield for identification purposes.
However, Army sources revealed at the time that he told investigators he had unsheathed his kukri – the symbolic weapon of the Gurkhas – after running out of ammunition.
‘Thankfully he has been returned to normal duties having had a question mark hanging over his future for some time,’ a military source told The Sun.
KUKRI: REGIMENT’S PROUD SYMBOL OF VALOUR
The iconic kukri knife used by the Gurkhas can be a weapon or a tool.
It is the traditional utility knife of the Nepalese people, but is mainly known as a symbolic weapon for Gurkha regiments all over the world.
The kukri signifies courage and valour on the battlefield and is sometimes worn by bridegrooms during their wedding ceremony.
The kukri’s heavy blade inflicts deep wounds, cutting muscle and bone in one stroke.
It can also be used in stealth operations to slash an enemy’s throat, killing him silently.
‘This particular Gurkha is good soldier and has a good record.’
The Gurkha faced a court martial and possible jail sentence if he had been found guilty of a war crime.
However, the decision taken was that the soldier was fighting for his life and did not have time to reload his weapon as his victim attacked.
The Gurkhas had intended to remove the Taliban leader’s body from the battlefield for identification purposes.
But they came under heavy fire as their tried to do so. Military sources said that in the heat of battle, the Gurkha took out his curved kukri knife and beheaded the dead insurgent.
He is understood to have removed the man’s head from the area, leaving the rest of his body on the battlefield.
This is considered a gross insult to the Muslims of Afghanistan, who bury the entire body of their dead even if parts have to be retrieved.
British soldiers often return missing body parts once a battle has ended so the dead can be buried in one piece.
The early 1960s saw a smoldering border dispute between East Malaysia and Indonesia bubble over into violent armed conflict. Note the Sterling submachine gun carried by the soldier in the foreground.
In the early 1960s, a tidy little war broke out along the border between Indonesia and East Malaysia on the island of Borneo. European colonialism had subdivided the planet into a bewildering amalgam of fiefdoms and protectorates, and the sundry peoples involved yearned to define themselves in the aftermath of the Second World War. On August 29, 1964, this tidy little war got quite messy.
Though typically small of stature, the Gurkhas are legendarily hard warriors.
Lance Corporal Amarjit Pun was the second-in-command for the point section of 10 Platoon, C Company, 2d Gurkha Rifles, on a company-strength patrol along the border south of Kumpang Langir. A company-sized element can be unwieldy on a protracted combat patrol, and all involved were looking forward to getting back to base for some rack time. However, as the patrol headed for home, they unwittingly walked into a kill zone.
On the tail end of an extensive combat patrol, LCPL Amarjit Pun and his men were tired and ready to get home.
The ambush was of the classic sort. Indonesian infantry well concealed in the jungle underbrush allowed the Gurkhas to walk deep into their killing ground before initiating the ambush with a murderous rain of small arms fire. In the first salvo, Lance Corporal Amarjit’s section commander was grievously wounded, while one of his NCOs was killed outright. The light machinegun team was also taken out of action. The Number 1 gunner was killed and his Number 2 badly hurt. Another rifleman was hit as well. The situation for LCPL Amarjit’s Gurkhas looked grave.
The ambush is a staple of Infantry warfare. An enemy unit launches a surprise attack from a position of stealthy advantage. The defending troops have only moments to respond.
It is the most basic tenet of Infantry training to instinctively assault through an ambush. This goes against every natural urge a man might have in combat. When faced with murderous fire from an unexpected quarter, the natural response is to drop or hide. However, hesitating inside a kill zone equals violent gory death.
A buddy who was there once told me that mobility was life on Omaha Beach during the D-Day invasion.
A friend who landed on Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944, once told me that stagnation meant dying. He said the fire coming from the German pillboxes was indeed overwhelming, but that combat leaders on the ground pushed their men forward into the chaos. He explained that he charged across the beach to cover, but that every member of his small unit that hesitated on that beach died.
To survive a proper ambush an attacked unit must respond quickly and instinctively with overwhelming violence of action.
Infantry soldiers are therefore trained on immediate action drills in response to an ambush. They are expected to react instinctively without a great deal of conscious thought. Sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn’t. In the case of LCPL Amarjit Pun, this compact little man seized the initiative and took charge.
Turning the Tide
The magazine-fed Bren light machinegun was the unit’s most effective weapon. Getting the Bren back into action was therefore the top priority.
LCPL Amarjit charged forward and retrieved the fallen L4 Bren gun intending on using the discarded weapon on the attackers to help break the ambush. As he hefted the heavy gun another burst of fire raked over him, striking the Bren and putting it out of action. A lesser man might at this point have run or broken. LCPL Amarjit, however, was a Gurkha.
LCPL Amarjit Pun’s primary weapon was the compact Sterling submachine gun. The young Gurkha put his SMG to good use this day.
Amarjit Pun stood his ground in the center of the worn jungle track and unlimbered his British-issue L2A3 Sterling submachinegun. Fire poured in from Indonesian troops concealed a mere ten yards away. LCPL Amarjit thumbed his selector to full auto and squeezed the trigger, raking the jungle with 9mm rounds.
Aggressively run, the Sterling submachine gun produces a prodigious volume of fire.
Amarjit emptied his Sterling at its cyclic rate and dropped the empty magazine. All the while he shouted encouragement to his comrades. He fished out a second 34-round mag, shoved it into the gun, jacked the bolt back, and emptied it at the nearby Indonesians as well. Throughout it all, heavy fire from the ambushing soldiers ripped the jungle and tore Amarjit’s patrol to ribbons. LCPL Amarjit burned through magazines as fast as he could cycle the gun.
The Weapons
The Bren gun was a staple among Commonwealth forces for decades. The rimmed .303 cartridge fired by the original versions demanded the sharply curved magazine.
While the Bren light machinegun has become irrevocably associated with British and Commonwealth troops fighting everywhere from North Africa in World War 2 to the Falklands, the gun was actually a Czech design. A license-produced version of the Czech ZGB 33 light machinegun, the ZGB 33 was itself a modified variant of the ZB vz. 26. Vaclav Holek was the primary designer. The name Bren is a portmanteau derived from Brno, the Czech city in Moravia where the gun was designed, and Enfield, the site of the Royal Small Arms Factory.
The L4A4 Bren was the center of mass of LCPL Amarjit’s Infantry section.
The earliest Bren gun weighed about 25 pounds and fed from a sharply curved magazine located atop the weapon to accommodate the rimmed .303 British round. The L4A4 Bren used by LCPL Amarjit’s men was the later version rechambered to accept the rimless 7.62x51mm cartridge. This variant can be identified at a glance by its straighter magazine. This 30-round box magazine was intentionally designed such that it would be interchangeable with that of the L1A1 SLR FAL rifles used by British forces at the time.
During the earlier Malay Emergency (spuriously named because British insurers wouldn’t pay claims incurred during a declared war) there was a $1,000 bounty offered for every Bren gun surrendered by Malayan insurgents.
The Bren is indeed heavy in action, but its sedate 500-rpm rate of fire renders it thoroughly controllable. The Bren served in a similar role as the American BAR. Unlike the BAR, the Bren enjoyed a quick change barrel capability. The reliable tilting bolt, gas-operated action rendered splendid service in dirty environments. Additionally, while the gun was limited by its magazine feed system, the top-mounted design made mag changes fast. Each man in a British Infantry squad typically carried spare magazines for the Bren.
The Sterling submachine gun (right) was a thoroughly civilized and generally improved version of the previous Sten gun.
The Sterling submachine gun was an evolutionary improvement on the Sten that helped the British win World War 2. Developed in 1944, the Sterling was the brainchild of George William Patchett, the principal designer at the Sterling Armaments Company of Dagenham. Trial versions of the Sterling actually saw limited action in the closing months of World War 2, specifically with British Commando forces and at Arnhem with the British 1st Parachute Division during Operation Market Garden.
The Sterling was one of the most advanced open-bolt SMGs ever produced. More than 400,000 copies saw service.
The Sterling generally favored the Sten that inspired it but represented an improvement across the board. The pistol grip was set at the rough center of balance of the gun, and the weapon fed from a superb side-mounted 34-round curved magazine. The Sterling was designed from the outset to feed from either Sterling or Sten magazines.
The Sterling represents a balance between ease of manufacture and tactical effectiveness.
The Sterling is built around a drawn steel tube milled out and perforated as needed. It is finished out in a peculiar bake-on crinkle finish. This finish seems strangely similar to pickup truck bed liner. While early Sterlings featured a charging handle slot milled in line with the ejection port, production models were moved slightly higher.
A skilled gunsmith can combine a demilled Sterling parts kit with a transferable Sten tube to form a hybrid Stenling.
One curious aspect of the Sterling design as it relates to American shooters is that the gun can be legally constructed from a registered transferable Sten tube. The BATF has allowed enterprising gunsmiths to adapt Sten tubes to accept demilled Sterling parts kits. The final product is referred to as a Stenling in the vernacular. As the Sterling is a markedly more pleasant and effective weapon than the Sten, this is a popular conversion.
The Sterling saw extensive service with the Indian armed forces.
The Sterling’s delightful balance and sedate 550-rpm rate of fire make it unusually controllable. The gun fires from the open bolt and is selective fire via a thumb-operated selector level oriented above the trigger. The collapsible stock on the Sterling is a bit complex but remains nonetheless rigid and effective.
The bloke shown here in the foreground is packing a Sterling SMG.
The Sterling is one of the most controllable open-bolt subguns I have ever run. The telescoping recoil system of the German MP40 is perhaps incrementally smoother, but the Sterling still runs like a champ. The Sterling is also unusually compact and handy. This makes it the ideal weapon for combat leaders and second-line support troops who might need their hands free for other tasks.
The Rest of the Story
Jungle combat is frequently close range and pitiless. Note the early .303 Bren carried by the Number 2 man in this patrol. The last three troopers are packing Australian Owen guns.
LCPL Amarjit stood his ground on that tiny jungle trail, dumping magazine after magazine of full auto 9mm fire into the Indonesian troops. His furious close-range assault broke the back of the ambush and bought enough time for the rest of the company to maneuver in place and displace the enemy. The Indonesians subsequently retreated into the jungle. Amarjit’s Gurkhas gathered up their casualties and returned to their base camp.
Despite the furious exchange of fire, LCPL Amarjit Pun was miraculously unhurt.
LCPL Amarjit was unhurt during the chaotic exchange. However, his uniform and equipment had been pierced by Indonesian bullets in three different places. The combination of LCPL Amarjit’s unswerving bravery in the face of the withering enemy attack and the heavy volume of automatic fire from his Sterling submachine gun broke the Indonesian ambush and prevented further casualties to his Gurkha unit.
LCPL Amarjit Pun was awarded the Military Medal for his bravery during this exchange. This is a 1918-vintage version of the decoration.
LCPL Amarjit Pun earned the Military Medal for his actions on that jungle trail back in 1964. The Military Medal was established in 1918 and was used to recognize acts of valor among other ranks such as NCOs and Warrant Officers. Recipients were granted a modest stipend and entitled to include the post-nominal letters “MM” after their names in official correspondence. Though the award was discontinued in 1993 in favor of the Military Cross which is granted to all ranks, the Military Medal still recognizes exceptional bravery in combat.
Soldiers throughout the centuries fight for their comrades on either side. Vapid slogans and lofty ideals don’t count for much amidst the fury of a dank jungle ambush.
Wars are fought for territory, greed, and all manner of lofty nationalistic motivations. However, men invariably fight for their buddies. When the incoming fire seemed overwhelming and his comrades were falling LCPL Amarjit Pun unlimbered his Sterling submachine gun and won the day. Sometimes big things do indeed come in small packages.
The L4A4 Bren gun soldiered on all the way through the First Gulf War.The Sterling SMG was ultimately supplanted in British service by the L85 assault rifle.
The Indonesian-Malaysian Confrontation fought in Borneo was one of the world’s first conflicts to see relatively widespread use of airmobile helicopter assets.
General Anthony McAuliffe sometime in or after 1955
(Photo: U.S. Army)
Military commanders have provided us with many quotable lines over the centuries and millennia of warfare, but it’s still hard to find men among them who are intrinsically connected to a single, widely and immediately recognized pithy phrase. “Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!” by Admiral David Farragut; “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard dies for his” by General George Patton; these phrases capture the martial spirit of the men who uttered them, but even they pale in comparison to single most laconic and defiant quote of World War II: General Anthony McAuliffe’s “Nuts!” Today’s article is about the career of Anthony McAuliffe, who led the defense of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge.
Anthony Clement McAuliffe (1898-1975) was born in Washington, D.C. to a government employee father and quickly turned toward a career in service of his country. He was admitted to West Virginia University in 1916, but America’s entry into World War I on April 1, 1917, prompted him to switch over to the War Emergency Course offered at West Point. He finished the accelerated program in November 1918, just after the war ended. He managed to stay in the Army despite the large downsizing that followed the war, graduating as a field artillery officer in 1920, and spending the next 16 years at various peacetime postings, including two stints on Oahu in Hawaii. His background placed him on tracks toward artillery operations and staff work, but McAuliffe really wanted to command combat troops, so he attended the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth.
McAuliffe as a West Point cadet
(Photo: The Howitzer)
For the time being, however, he had to stay in staff positions, and he was appointed to a study group examining race relations in the Army. The group recommended racial integration within the Army, a position McAuliffe continued to hold throughout his career, and would later be in a position to do something about.
In 1941, shortly before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, McAuliffe was posted to the Supply Division of the War Department General Staff as a temporary lieutenant colonel. At this post, he supervised the development of various pieces of military equipment, including the bazooka (Read our earlier article) and the jeep (Read our earlier article). McAuliffe finally got his chance for a combat posting in 1942, when he was promoted to colonel and placed in command of the artillery elements of a newly formed unit, the 101st Airborne Division. (Read our earlier article)
General William C. Lee, the first commander of the 101st Airborne, reviewing the unit in 1942
(Photo: Roberston Collection)
The 101st was specifically created to participate in the Normandy landings, but the long buildup for Operation Overlord meant they only got to see action for the first time in the summer of 1944. McAuliffe, a brigadier general by the time, jumped with his men into German-held territory on the chaotic night of June 6. (Read our earlier article) Confident in the ability of the 101st to achieve victory, he handed out signed 100-franc notes before boarding the planes in England so that the men could invite each other to celebratory drinks later.
A soldier of the 101st Airborne Division boarding a C-47 for the flight to Normandy
(Photo: U.S. Army)
His optimism initially seemed somewhat unfounded, as he landed three miles from the intended drop zone. To make things worse, McAuliffe’s direct superior, General Don F. Pratt, died on D-Day as he was coming in aboard a glider. The glider made contact with the ground, but landed on wet tall grass which caused it to skid out of the landing zone and into a hedgerow of poplar trees. Pratt, sitting in his jeep tethered inside the glider, died from a broken neck caused by whiplash; the copilot was impaled and killed by a branch, and the pilot suffered severe injuries with both legs broken. McAuliffe quickly assumed Pratt’s position and organized the capture and defense of two strategically important locations: a bridge over the Vire River, and the village of Pouppeville; in the following days, he also led a successful attack on Carentan.
McAuliffe next led his men into battle in September 1944, in the ill-fated Operation Market Garden, (Read our earlier article)where he landed alongside his troops in a glider. The operation was a failure (euphemistically dubbed “a 90% success” at the time), but the 101st, led by General Maxwell Taylor (Read our earlier article), managed to make it back to friendly lines.
McAuliffe giving last-minute instructions to his men before departing from England on D-Day+1 day during Operation Market Garden (Photo: U.S. Air Force)
McAuliffe’s finest hour came in the winter of 1944, during the Battle of the Bulge. The 101st was posted to the Ardennes Forest to rest and recover after taking heavy losses in Market Garden. The area was believed to be quiet and safe, as the poor road network in the heavily forest region was believed unsuitable for armored advances, and thus safe form any German counterattacks.
Naturally, this belief turned out to be entirely wrong when Hitler launched Operation Wacht am Rhein (“Watch on the Rhine”), his last major counterattack on the Western Front, directly through the Ardennes. The road and railway hub town of Bastogne suddenly became a vital point in the war: if the Germans managed to capture it, they could use it to move their troops through the forests much more quickly.
Elements from the 101st Airborne, the 10th Armored Division, the 705th Tank Destroyer Battalion and 755th Field Artillery Battalion were rushed to Bastogne to defend it. Maxwell Taylor, the commanding officer of the 101st, was in the United States on a conference, so McAuliffe, normally only in charge of the division’s artillery, had to step up to the plate and command the defense effort.
McAuliffe (center) and two other officers holding Bastogne’s town sign
(Photo: U.S. Army)
The details of the desperate battle for Bastogne, and its importance in the larger Battle of the Bulge unfolding around it, are beyond the scope of this article. It should suffice to say that McAuliffe achieved historic greatness in the besieged Belgian town, not only with his tenacious defense, but also with his spirited, now iconic reply to a German demand for surrender with a single word: NUTS! (A detailed description of the event can be read in one of our earlier articles here) One little-known detail of the event was that McAuliffe was checking on his wounded men earlier in the day, before the German messengers showed up. One man rose from his litter, saying “Don’t give up on account of us, General Mac!” McAuliffe quickly assured him that he wouldn’t – and kept his word a few hours later.
McAuliffe and his staff having Christmas dinner in Bastogne during the battle
(Photo: U.S. Army)
The famous reply was first uttered, then put in writing, on December 22, and it didn’t take long for the story to take wing. A news dispatch sent on the same day and appearing in American newspapers on the 26th reported: “When a German carrying a white flag came forward with the demand for surrender, he gave the American commander a false report that three towns far to the west were in German hands. The American commander sent him right back with “no” for an answer.”
The actual word used instead of “no” became publicly know two days later with another news item: “The heroic American garrison pointed artillery, machine guns and mortars in all directions after their commander sent a curt one-word reply — “Nuts!” — to the Germans’ surrender ultimatum.” McAuliffe’s identity as the commander who sent the message only became known another two days later.
Interestingly, the German messengers weren’t the only people confused by the meaning of the famous reply. The French press agency also had a problem interpreting the slang phrase, and eventually (and incorrectly) settled on it being short for “Vous n’etes que de vieilles noix” – “You are nothing but old nuts.”
A humorous postcard commemorating McAuliffe’s famous reply
(Image: contemporary postcard)
Once the defenders of Bastogne were relieved, McAuliffe was quickly awarded the Distinguished Service Cross by General Patton (Read our earlier article), and was promoted to major general and given command of the 103rd Infantry Division. The division and McAuliffe spent the rest of the war mopping up German resistance along the west shore of the Rhine, advancing into Germany and Austria, and capturing the Brenner Pass across the Alps, finally allowing Allied troops in Italy and the rest of Europe to link up.
Patton decorating McAuliffe with the Distinguished Service Cross
(Photo: U.S. Army)
McAuliffe held many positions in the decade after World War II, and was promoted to four-star general in 1955. In that decade, he was, among other things, the Chief Chemical Officer of the Army Chemical Corps, Head of Army Personnel, and Army Secretary of the Joint Research and Development Board. In 1946, he was also the Army Ground Forces advisor to Operation Crossroads, the above-ground atomic bomb test at the Bikini Atoll in the Pacific. From 1949 onward, he returned to field commands, first in occupied Japan, and later in Europe.
The Baker event during Operation Crossroads
(Photo: U.S. Army Photographic Signal Corps)
At the beginning of the 50s, McAuliffe returned to a cause he had already served once earlier in his career, and which would become the achievement he was the proudest of: the desegregation of the Army. Most African-American soldiers were in transport and service units during World War II; African-American combat units did exist, but were segregated from white units. This segregation remained into the Korean War. During a 1950 review of the policy, McAuliffe recommended that black soldiers remain in segregated units, not because of any lack of combat capability, but because of the racist attitudes in the rest of the Army. Instead, he proposed the creation of more black units, as the already existing ones were overstaffed.
By 1951, however, the changing situation in Korea already forced the racial integration of several combat units to solve manpower shortages. These units suffered no serious morale problems or loss of combat capability, so McAuliffe revised his previous opinion and recommended full integration throughout the Army.
By the end of 1951, he ordered all Far East commands to prepare and submit integration plans, and did the same to European commands the next year. The Army’s desegregation ended up taking some time, but it did manage to become one of the most integrated organization in 1970s American society.
A desegregated unit in Korea
(Photo: National Archives)
McAuliffe retired from the Army in 1956. He put his knowledge of chemical warfare to good use in civilian life and took a position on the board of directors of a chemicals company. He also acted as chairman of the New York State Civil Defense Commission from 1960 to 1963. He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery. The central square of the town of Bastogne is now called Place Général McAuliffe and has a bust of McAuliffe and a Sherman tank pierced by a German 88mm shell standing in one of its corners.
The bust of McAuliffe and the damaged Sherman tank at McAuliffe Square in Bastogne (Photo: Author’s own)
Soldiers decorate a Christmas tree in Germany, December 1944
(Photo: U.S. Army)
The iconic kukri knife used by the Gurkhas can be a weapon or a tool.
