Untold stories of WW-II: A conversation with a brave heart who still lives among us
Source: Hueiyen News Service / Omila Thounaojam

Imphal, June 27 2014 : "Masi Yamna Emotional Oi, Ebemma.

Yamna Nungairaktaba...Hekta Kapningakpa...," says 87-year old Pabung Soubam Nilakomol also known as Irikhomba from Sega Road, Konjeng Hajari Leikai.

I would admit that my interview with Pabung have let me visit a segment of a forgotten history.

A point in our past is remembered where things so brutal had happened and we had been a crucial part of a historical encounter between nations.

We were there and our people were witnessing traumatic scenes and sights of World War II.

Every time when there are debates and discussions on war and its realities, we have always assumed that there were bombs and guns and tanks and soldiers and people� firings and killings and the war ends and then peace.

Sounds easy, but the question is, is it in real.

Wars were fought and lives were lost in multitudes and yet we fail to look out for the "remains of the past" that are deeply embedded in the form of unaccounted tales.

Brave hearts who had encountered tragic aspects of the second world war still live in our midst carrying with them the burdens of history.

We never thought it worthwhile to spare some time and do the lookout deal and tap the untold accounts from the living legends.

The devastating side effects of the war infected regions of Manipur still haunt those who had a share of it by being a victim of history.

Pabung Soubam Nilakomol

Today, through the channel of Hueiyen Lanpao, here's an honest attempt to capture a moving and true account of one of the members of the surviving families of the historic encounter.

Hope my conversation with Pabung will reach many and do hope that these lines are also included when we try to understand the pages of history that reiterate on the relationship between the Second World War and our state.

When I requested Pabung to reflect upon his memories of World War II, the first thing that he said was "this is a very emotional thing Ebemma � just feel like crying..." .

Recounting a part of his life that was so heavy with bloodshed in its content was too emotional and yet he told me truths about WAR and NATIONS.

Faces of history that were still hidden and unaccounted before were revealed by him.

With teary eyes he spoke and revisited sites of memory.

Based on an hour long interview or rather a frank conversation with Pabung, my write up today, attempts at printing truths about US and the BATTLE OF IMPHAL, in particular, considering that this is the 70th year of the remembrance of the War and its significance in our state.

Pabung's account revolves around Tombimacha, his mother and Soubam Nongyai, his father, who was working in the Revenue Department as an Amin (surveyor) during that time.

He admits that he can't remember the exact date but things happened in the year 1940 .

He recalls, "there were continuous sudden bombings all around and people fled for their lives along with their families.

At first we fled to Konthoujam Lawai but after two days because of inconvenience, elders decided to shift to Salam Lawai, there again there were so much gun fires and air bombings happening ceaselessly.

Maglang Leitong was an adjoining site to Salam and it became our next destination.

There, we all stayed in the traditional front house (Sangoi) that belonged to one one my elder sister's mother-in-law's relatives.

My parents, along with their four daughters and four sons, also my elder sister's in-laws and other two families � one from Takhellambam Leikai that had a grocery business, another from Thingom Leikai that had a jewellery business - fled together because of the war inflicted situation" .

Pabung continues and says, "I was just in class six when all these happened and I still remember that we stayed there for days along with the other two families.

Few more days later, we felt that the war subsided a little.

My father told me that he should get back to his work since situation was little better and he must resume his official duty.

So my father must go back to Imphal for his work and my mother told me to go with him and stay there and take care of him.

We went and I used to cook for him.

One day, my aunt came to visit us, carrying a huge bag loaded with varieties of vegetables.

She wished to see my mother but she felt disappointed and sad knowing that my mother and my siblings were not with us.

She went back feeling disappointed and my father went to office but came back home early that afternoon.

He told me that he must take some vegetables and deliver it to Maklang where my mother and the others were still taking refuge.

Riding his bicycle, my father rushed to Maklang and soon after reaching there, he rested a bit by sitting in the front yard.

It was late evening then.

He saw seven vehicles packed with Indian armies arriving there from Imphal.

With a mike, there was a loud announcement warning that the inhabitants of the region must stay indoors since there may be open firings soon.

They also alerted the people that there may be search operations done looking for Japanese spies in that site.

The troops went ahead on the Kanchikhul side but retreated soon only to be halted where my father was.

Some of the men in uniform came to father and at first, asked him for drinking water.

My elder sister fetched them fresh drinking water and as my father recounted it to me, they gulped it down as if they were dead thirsty.

Right after that, the army men demanded money from my father but my father explained them that like them, he was also a government employee and is facing huge unsettling devastating experiences owing to the war situation.

Then the army men turned towards the guy from the other family who had a grocery business.

The man handed over some soaps and other items that were there from his shop to them but he was violently slapped for offering that thereby knocking him unconscious on the floor right there.

Then next, they demanded the guy who does the jewellery business to hand them money.

With fear, he gave them the wooden box altogether that had all that he had - some bits and pieces of gold items - and they took it.

Finally they turned towards my father again and asked him for money.

Father then gave the officers 300 rupees that he had but they weren't satisfied.

It was while (as my father told me later) he was negotiating with few of the bearded Punjabi jawans to understand his situation that other jawans standing on the other side knocked him violently with their rifle butts on his thigh.

Father felt violently down with a hurtful groan that all the women who were staying indoors heard of and witnessing the tragic scene, they all cried out fearfully 'Mi Hatle, Nongmei Kappe' .

There was hue and cry and on hearing the screams calling out for help, men staying in the nearby houses rushed for help holding in a hurry, swords or spades that they could get hold of at that moment" .

Pabung admits, he didn't witness the recounted scenes of the unfaithful day himself and that all the episodic narration about that particular day's encounter between the civilians and the Indian jawans in turban was based on his father's reporting of it to him later.

Continuing with the conversation, he says, "three or four men rushed with whatever tools they could fetch.

But soon, they found out that the front door could not be a logical entrance point since the allied army men were already crowded there.

They then somehow manage to break some parts of the mud wall adjoining Sanamahi room and successfully got into the room.

When they got inside, they found the kids hiding under the beds and saw my mother carrying my very young younger sister, Surjamukhi on her back and simultaneously trying to make sense of the situation outside.

The men then thought that they could escape through another main door situated on the back side.

While they tried opening it, they saw the uncountable number of army heads surrounding that side too.

Soon the dramatic struggle began in which the jawans forcefully tried to break in by pushing at the back door.

There were struggles from both the sides � one from the women (my mother, my elder sister, her mother-in-law, the other women folks from the other two families) and the men who came to rescue them trying their best to not let the jawans break in and on the other side of the door, there was heavy get-in attempts from the powerful push showered by the soldiers.

Finally, the sardars were winning over the civilians and it was then that one of the men inside asked my sister's mother-in-law to hold the spade that he was having so that he could help guarding the door.

Sooner the door broke open and one of the jawans fell down on the floor.

What was most significant about that moment was the courageous strike that my elder sister's mother-in-law attempted with the spade that she had on her hand on the back side of the fallen sardar's neck that got him drop cold death on the spot.

She courageously almost sliced the animalistic intruder's head with her impulsive strike to protect themselves against the looters in uniform.

What followed then was just a current like showering of gun fires on the house from both the front door and the back door sides for quite some moments that resulted in my mother's and my sister's mother-in-law's death.

While there were sounds of whistle blowing that could be heard when the firing ceased that was sort of a call to all the jawans to get back and to go, since there was one who was lying death, the whistling continued for some more time as a wait for him.

But they ultimately retreated leaving him behind" .

Whenever we come across stories based upon war related atrocities, it has become a common notion to hear about rapes, sexual harassment and other physically and emotionally charged accounts about the victims of the event.

But today, through my conversation with Pabung, we saw an unseen side of the Second World War that also has actual stories of brave women and men who never hesitated to fight with determination and strength and were not reluctant to kill and be killed while trying to protect one's own dignity.

As Pabung emphasizes, when he rushed the very next day in the early morning hour at the site of the incident with the help of one of his relatives, he witnessed his mother lying cold death on the floor with bullet holes � one on her face and the other on her chest and on the front yard, there was another dead body, whom he found out to be that of her elder sister's mother-in-law.

"One of the men who tried guarding the door lost four fingers due to the open firings and among other casualties, my younger sister whom my mother was nursing during the time of her death, soon passed away," Pabung says.

This is not it and the story continues recounting bits and pieces of other traumatic scenes related to the war inflicted condition.

What could be understood after all is this that there are various other tales based on real life incidents as such but are never brought up.

In case there are elders who could enlighten us upon other facets of the Battle of Imphal through their personal experiences and also as members of the surviving families, then do let us know.

Hueiyen Lanpao welcomes those who want to enrich our historical resources by helping us in chronicling truths that remain unrecorded till now owing to various reasons.

I extend my heartiest thanks to Pabung for giving me his valuable time and for letting me write about him and his experiences and in turn, about some specific segments of our past that reflect hugely upon our courageous nature as a community in times of extreme danger.

History takes and makes place.

And indeed this particular section of our history must be placed in a valuable space in our lives since our ancestors have lived through it.

We must locate true accounts related to this side of historical experience and try our best to confer it the best of respects and regards.

We must never fail to admit that history is never over and thus today I have begun my part to re-remember it through this conversation and try my best to record it through words with the help of a brave heart who still lives with us.