Over 40 years ago as a GC student I set off with a friend on a six-month hitchhike to London and back. In those days we got ‘Transit Visas’ at the borders as we moved westward. We learnt only two words in the 15 languages we experienced on the way, they being ‘bread’ and ‘water’.

On the way we visited the Indian First World War Trench Museum at the Ypres Salient in Belgium. It was an experience that still haunts. On the museum walls are hundreds of old brown postcards and letters, mostly censored, received and written, most never delivered. Over the years scholars have collected these letters to interpret the contents of what men from our lands experienced over five long years in the cold wet mud trenches of Europe as part of a tragedy of unimaginable proportions.

As the fighting men from the sub-continent raced towards German machine gun fire, they were known among Germans as “the cannon-fodder of the British Empire”. A majority of these men were from Punjab and the North-West Frontier (now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), whom the colonials touted as a martial race.

On a repeat visit last year we visited those terrible ‘trench museums’. Each time one thinks of the sheer scale of the casualties, and the conditions in which our men fought, it makes me wish that humans should never again go to war. In just one war we lost more men than all the combined losses between India and Pakistan since 1947. Such was the scale of this tragedy. But then ‘Alpha’ male and female leaders - no matter of which species - are prone to humiliate opponents to the degree conditions ‘safely’ permit. Lives never matter in dominating strategies. So it was for the fighting men from Lahore, and Punjab, and the Frontier, and the whole sub-continent. We were the blind followers.

In this piece I have collected a few letters written by and to these fighting men, which essentially represents a sociological study of the human condition. These are the critical bricks when writing a ‘peoples’ history’. My selection within the limited space of a column, is restricted to those from Lahore and its environs. These letters have mostly been translated from Urdu, Gurmukhi and Pushto, with relevant portions only reproduced:

Letter written by father of Lance Naik Abdul Hameed of 89th Punjabis to Kitchener’s Indian Hospital, Brighton. 1st April 1915:

“My son has given full proof of his loyalty by going six times into action. Now he is wounded and his mother has become ill on reading about his wounds. Your honour be kind enough to send him to the depot so he can rest and get oil rubbed into him and is also able to attend the mosque.”

Letter from Qasim Ali, 19th Punjabis, France, to his brother in Mozang near Lahore from Milton Hospital, England, 18th January 1915:

“This is a beautiful country where many people come to meet us and shake our hands. You cannot tell a Lord from a beggar. They do work with great intelligence. Even their dogs look after their cattle. And instead of oxen they plough with horses. I am amazed that their shopkeepers are so honest. No one increases prices. They leave their shops empty and no money is stolen. If a thief is caught he is tied to a stake and there he dies. When I get letters from home it makes me happy to learn about life there. The war goes on. If I live, which I doubt, I will write again.

Muhammad Khan in Lahore Cantonment to Jemadar Malik Mehr Khan, 15th Lancers, France, 1st April, 1915:

“I learn that plague has spread in Jhelum and Rawalpindi. But Lahore is safe where for one rupee you can buy six and a half seers of wheat and ‘channa’ for five and a half seers for a rupee. At the depot all soldiers with less than 15 years’ service are being sent. I might be sent to Egypt.”

Abdul Rahman to Muhammad Nawaz, 28th Punjabis attached to 57th Rifles, France, 20th August, 1915:

“I have been assigned recruiting duty. It is difficult to find good young men. All have already been recruited. There is a shortage of rain. People are sowing ‘bajra’. In the shops everything has become very expensive.”

Sarfraz Khan, 61st Camel Corps, Lahore Cantonment, to Dafadar Alam Khan, 18th Lancers, France, 16th April, 1916:

“Always remember you must do Sirkar’s work faithfully, because it is very difficult to get such a good King. The Turks are not our paternal uncle’s children. I am relying on you to remain well-wishers of our Sirkar.”

From Dilbar Khan, Pathan Chowkidar, Veterinary College, Lahore, to Abdul Hakeem Khan, 19th Lancers, France, 21st May, 1916.

(Translated from Pushto) “How am I to fool my heart when it is full of grief because no letter comes from you? This is not the way friends should act. Go now my letter now tell him that when he left I was weeping. Tell him that I wept so much that I fell down on the ground. Go tell him that when his letter comes all the Pathan ‘chowkidars’ of Lahore get together and read it a hundred times.

“Censor Officer, for God’s sake let my letter fly to him. High postal office officers do not destroy my letter for I have written it as tears fell from my eyes, the ink was my blood. Even my pen weeps. Let my letter tell him all this.”

From Lance Dafadar Chanda Singh, France, 15th February, 1916, to his wife in Lohari Mandi, Lahore:

“France is a fine country. A father and mother invite a visitor to kiss them. If you refuse they get offended. The entire family indulge in indecent talk, especially the women. We Punjabis laugh at lot at this. Nothing is prohibited here. But we all say our prayers in our own special manner.”

Rai Ahmed Ali of 6th Lancers, France, to Iqbal Ali, Bazaar Hakeeman, Bhati Gate, Lahore, 6th November, 1917:

“I am off to Paris to enjoy, which had always been out of bound for Indians. Only British officers enjoyed there. I have collected Rs 250 to spend over four days. I intend to enjoy all the pleasures I have heard about Paris. Please do not tell my father or he will never forgive me. My friend Jai Singh is also going with me with Rs 250. I would like to marry a beautiful French girl, but am afraid it will shame my family. So many men have been killed that you can find lots of nice girls to marry.”

Khalilullah, Lahore, of 9th Cavalry attached to 2nd Lancers, France, to Saleemullah stationed at Mutra Cantonment, U.P, 6th December, 1917:

“A black cloud came over our regiment which had escaped disaster for three years. On 1st December our brave leader, the brave lion called Colonel Turner was killed. Such men are rare in this world. We attacked the enemy and took their position, but at a great loss. Two other British officers were also killed. We do not know what the future holds. This could be my last letter as we go into action soon.”

The above is a small sample of the letters. Depending on the person their inner thoughts do come forth very clearly. The letters from home mostly depict inflation and conditions.

But what strikes one is the fact that hundreds of ‘Unknown Soldiers’ from Lahore and Punjab and the sub-continent were killed all over the world serving their colonial rulers. They all deserve to be remembered. But then it is no surprise that even the over one million killed during the 1947 Partition in a short period of six weeks are not remembered. Surely these ‘Unknown Soldiers’ should not be forgotten. That is the least we can do for our own.

Published in Dawn, March 24th, 2019