Remembering Lt-Col Lalbahadur Pun: A Trailblazing Gurkha Officer

The Confrontation came about as a result of opposition from the communist-leaning President Sukarno of Indonesia to the British plan to create the Federation of Malaysia. This comprised peninsular Malaya, Singapore and the crown colonies of North Borneo (now Sabah) and neighbouring Sarawak, together with the protectorate of Brunei. The Indonesian province of Kalimantan made up three-quarters of the island of Borneo, and Sukarno wished instead to annex the remainder. In December 1962, pro-Sukarno rebels declaring themselves the “North Kalimantan National Army” tried to overthrow the Sultan of Brunei, who called for British help. Troops from 1/2 GR were immediately sent from Singapore, during which Lalbahadur received his baptism of fire (albeit light) and the coup collapsed. The following year, Sukarno began incursions into North Borneo and Sarawak by “volunteers” to intimidate the local population. British troops were sent to Sarawak for reassurance operations. When intimidation failed, in 1964 Sukarno began a similar campaign in the Malay peninsula, fomenting race riots in Singapore and stepping up raids across the border on Borneo. However, Malaysian resolution held firm. In December 1964, therefore, Sukarno began a major build-up of Indonesian regulars on the border with Sarawak. In reply, troops from the UK’s strategic reserve were flown in, together with Gurkhas, Australians and New Zealanders. “Konfrontasi” now became an undeclared war, the Indonesians raiding into Sarawak and Sabah in considerable strength. By this time, Lalbahadur had become aide de camp to the formidable Major General (later General Sir) Walter Walker, the recently appointed director of operations in Borneo. Walker sought permission from Harold Wilson’s new Labour government, and from Tunku Abdul Rahman’s in Kuala Lumpur, to take the fight secretly across the border to the Indonesians in what would be known as Operation Claret. The rules for Claret were tight. Every incursion had to be authorised personally by Walker. Only experienced troops were to take part, none of whom were to be on their first tour of duty. Every operation was to be planned and executed with maximum security, with penetration limited to 5,000 yards. By late 1965, however, the rules had become slightly more relaxed and patrols were allowed to penetrate deeper. In March, Lalbahadur had returned to 1/2 GR in Sabah to take acting command of D Company, and in September he was ordered to take two of his platoons into the Labang area of Kalimantan, an area of rugged primary jungle which had already been the scene of several clashes between Indonesian and Commonwealth troops. Intelligence reports indicated that a sub-unit of Number 600 Raider Battalion, a tough parachute unit, well-trained in jungle warfare and more proficient than the average Indonesian infantry battalion, had established a base there. Lalbahadur’s company picked up fresh tracks of a force estimated to be some 60 strong which led to the east bank of the River Sembakung, the main line of communication between the Indonesian border bases and the depots near the coast. Reaching a major bend of the river at about noon on September 25, with good views both up and downstream, Lalbahadur deployed his men to observe. After several hours, four boats pulled in to a shingle beach some 1,500 yards downstream and two dozen troops disembarked. Moments later a similar number came out of the jungle and embarked, and the boats moved off downstream. Lalbahadur concluded that the enemy had a camp near the beach and had just relieved part of its garrison. He therefore set off with the company towards the beach, but the intervening ground proved hard going and by dusk they had not found the camp. Not knowing how close it might be, he decided to halt for the night, trusting that the monsoon rain would cover what little noise they made, but forbidding cooking and smoking for fear of giving themselves away. They set off again at dawn, but the going was still hard and it was two hours before the scouts saw signs of the enemy. Lalbahadur made a quick reconnaissance, and discovering the newly built camp, decided to send his second-in-command with one of the platoons round the flank to cut off escape while he prepared to attack with the other. However, the flanking platoon were blocked by a sheer rock cliff, so rejoined the company. With little time now or scope for more sophisticated tactics, Lalbahadur decided on an immediate frontal charge of the camp with one of the platoons, supported by covering fire from the other. The enemy, completely taken by surprise, scattered into the jungle. Having suffered no casualties, Lalbahadur put out a protective screen and searched the camp, finding more than a dozen bodies, and others in the river, with blood trails indicating a large number of wounded too. Twenty-five weapons including two light machine guns were captured as well as documents and clothing. The patrol had lasted longer than expected, however, and with rations running low (what they carried on their backs) they were forced to supplement them with jungle plants during the extrication. For his “determination, initiative and courage”, to which the success of the operation was solely due, ran the citation, Lalbahadur was awarded the Military Cross, the first Sandhurst Gurkha to receive the honour. Lalbahadur Pun (known as “LB”) was born in 1937 in the village of Shikha, in the Myagdi district of Nepal, a recruiting stronghold for British Gurkhas. His father was Subedar-Major (later Honorary Captain) Tikajit Pun, a recipient of the Indian Distinguished Service Medal and a legendary 2 GR officer described by his wartime commanding officer as “one of the greatest Gurkhas I have ever met … steadfast and imperturbable under small arms, fire and bombardment”. Lalbahadur was educated at St Joseph’s Academy, Dehradun (2 GR’s depot), founded in 1934 by the Brothers of Saint Patrick (the “Patrician Brothers”), a Catholic lay religious congregation. Despite the offer of a scholarship to read maths and physics at Patna University, he opted to attend the Royal Military Academy, where he became a cadet sergeant. Commissioned in December 1959, he joined 1/2 GR in Malaya the following year. In 1969, having passed the demanding Staff College entrance exam — no mean feat for even a native English speaker — he left the battalion for Camberley, the first Gurkha to do so. On graduation in 1971 and promotion to substantive major he was made staff officer responsible for training in the headquarters of British forces in Hong Kong before returning two years later to 1/2 GR, by then in Brunei, as officer commanding A Company. Promotion to lieutenant colonel came in 1979, again the first Gurkha to achieve the rank, and command of the Gurkha Training Depot in Hong Kong. Sceptics doubted his ability to cope with such a large and unwieldy organisation, especially at a time of heightened political sensitivity in the territory and increased Gurkha recruitment to cope with the surge in illegal immigration by both Vietnamese “boat people” and Chinese crossing the Sino-Hong Kong border. He was a resounding success and was appointed OBE (Military) on relinquishing the post in October 1981. Subsequently deputy commander of support troops in Hong Kong, and then chief instructor of the Small Arms Wing at the School of Infantry in Warminster, Wiltshire, further promotion might have been expected, but without command of a manoeuvre unit and now in his later forties, competition was fierce. In 1988 he decided to retire from the army and joined the Sultan of Brunei’s Gurkha Reserve Unit, becoming one of its battalion commanders. He finally retired in 2000 to live in Kathmandu with his wife, Sara, whom he married in 1985 and who survives him along with their two sons. Ever gallant and as light-hearted as his soldiers, when he was commanding D Company while still only a substantive lieutenant, he received a message from battalion headquarters one day: “Your company fund is very low; why?” He replied simply: “It’s the soldiers’ money and the soldiers have used it.” There was no further inquiry. Highly intelligent, personable and popular, “LB’’ bridged British and Gurkha cultures with ease and was an undoubted catalyst in the successful post-Cold War drive to integrate the Gurkhas into the mainstream of the British Army.