A Soldier of the British Empire

[mhurst]

“A Soldier of the British Empire”, by Mo Husain, is that rarest of books about the First World War: a novel depicting the experiences of Indian troops in Europe (only John Masters’s “The Ravi Lancers” comes to mind). It is told through the diary entries of Ghulam Hussain, an intelligent young Muslim from Lahore, who enlists in the 57^th Wilde’s Rifles just before the outbreak of war, and by October 1914 finds himself immersed in a drama beyond all his imaginings.

Unusually, Ghulam speaks excellent English, and so can understand what is said about the Indians in general by the officers of the Indian Army when talking among themselves, and by the ordinary soldiers of the British Army, who assume that, like all Indians, he is largely ignorant and cannot speak English. Neither group rarely has anything good to say initially about their allies, although with time there grows a grudging respect for the Indians’ fighting prowess.

The first real introduction to battle of Ghulam and his comrades comes with the fighting centred around the village of Neuve Chapelle in October, and later they have to learn how to adapt to the trench warfare that is beginning to take shape. Through the diary entries we get a picture of life as an Empire soldier, and can begin to appreciate how much of a culture shock just being in Europe was for them, let alone being subjected to the terrors of war. The ability to eat their familiar food is of fundamental importance to their well being, as is the chance to pray regularly. They are also faced with the temptations of alcohol and prostitutes, and of overcoming their revulsion at eating pork when there is no other food available.

We also learn that the Indian Army contained within itself many sub-divisions: there were Sikhs, Pathans, Punjabis, Dogras and Gurkhas, who were generally either Hindus or Muslims, with the concomitant language barriers, dietary restrictions and tribal rivalries. Many of the British Indian Army officers spoke excellent Urdu, which was much appreciated by the Indian other ranks, although the officers’ comments were often seen as patronizing, and in contrast to their private views, overhead in English. The later officer replacements from the British Army were remote from their men and had to rely on translators to get their orders understood.

There are several very vivid passages in the book describing the savagery of hand-to-hand fighting in trench raids, and the reaction to taking the life of another man for the first time. Another describes the appalling effects of the incessant rain during the first winter of the war, when trenches become flooded, and men on both sides are forced to seek refuge in no-man’s land, in plain view of each other. In their immediate struggles for survival from drowning, all thoughts of attacking the enemy are forgotten temporarily.

While spending time at the Indian Hospital in Brighton Ghulam encounters a more relaxed and friendly attitude towards Indians in England than he did among the colonials in his homeland. This inevitably leads to fraternization with some of the local female population, with open liaisons between the races often developing. Apart from this, the authorities are also concerned that the experiences of those serving in France will encourage aspirations for independence once they are home again. Among those recovering from wounds, thoughts are dominated by the dread of being sent back to the Front before the Indian Corps is finally withdrawn from France.

This is a glimpse of one aspect of the First World War which is not often dealt with in the western press, and told as it is in fictional terms, brings to life the realities of war in its hardship, drudgery and brutality. At the same time it gives an impression of what it must have been like for men used to a simple life to be thrown into an alien, violent war, for a cause which few of them could understand, let alone believe in. That so many faced up to and endured the challenge so bravely is nothing short of miraculous, and this book is a fitting tribute to them.