Again, Gurkhas Play Vital Role

The soldiers stroll past burned-out houses, gutted offices and other evidence of rampant destruction. If they weren’t carrying automatic weapons, they could be mistaken for tourists out for a walk. A child waves, and they wave back. Several people smile, and they say hello.

But as the patrol passes another of the countless blackened buildings in this devastated territorial capital, one of the eight soldiers catches a whiff of decomposing flesh.

Within seconds, two are crouched in ditches, two more have ducked in doorways, three are guarding the perimeter, and one is inside the destroyed house. All are alert, their automatic weapons at the ready.

After a quick investigation, an all-clear is sounded. The smell turns out to be a dead animal; there’s no evidence that the gutted building was a militia stronghold.

The group’s collective pulse slows. And if the Gurkhas, Britain’s elite fighters, have their way, slow is how it will stay.

Established as a combat force in 1815, the highly decorated Gurkhas make up two-thirds of Britain’s contribution to the U.N. peacekeeping force in East Timor. These Nepalese soldiers’ reputation as tough, versatile guerrilla fighters has earned them recognition far beyond the physical presence of the 165 troops here.

The 2nd Battalion of the Royal Gurkha Rifles was the first unit off the first C-130 Hercules when the U.N.-authorized force landed here Sept. 20. It was immediately dispatched to secure the high ridge around the United Nations compound. Since then, the Gurkhas’ Asian faces and low-key approach have played well with Indonesian troops deeply suspicious of the international peacekeeping force, led by and largely composed of Australians.

On a patrol last week through some of the most devastated sections of Dili, the only place the eight-man unit stopped for more than a few seconds was in front of a public utility building where an Indonesian unit stood guard. Members of the two forces shook hands warmly, compared ranks and exchanged friendly banter.

Indonesian soldiers worked closely with local anti-independence militiamen to systematically destroy this territory after East Timorese voted overwhelmingly in a U.N.-sponsored referendum Aug. 30 to break away from Indonesia.

But Indonesia retains nominal control over East Timor, and the United Nations has gone out of its way to maintain relations with Indonesian forces despite their suspected role in human rights abuses. Sgt. Maj. Kuma Rai of the Gurkhas says his men also pick up valuable intelligence through their contacts with the Indonesians.

For the past several days, the East Timorese capital has been quiet, and the Gurkhas, with their day-and-night foot patrols, have often taken over the role of the now-absent local police force.

Their stealth and physical appearance have many benefits here. But they can also create problems. Gurkhas on night duty have been mistaken for members of anti-independence militias. On more than one occasion, a Gurkha patrol has been threatened by Australian troops. Gurkhas say the Australians didn’t understand their accents, thought they were the bad guys or were using a different password.

A face-off that could have ended in disaster occurred last week when Gurkhas patrolling near an Indonesian military base suddenly found themselves staring down the barrels of Indonesian automatic weapons.

The Gurkhas quickly raised their hands in surrender and explained who they were. A key part of operating in the field as peacekeepers is knowing when to attack and when to back down.

“The rules of engagement allow us to shoot to kill when threatened,” said Lt. Col. Mark Lillingston-Price, who heads the Gurkha battalion in East Timor. “Taking [Indonesian soldiers] out is not part of that.”

But when necessary, the Gurkhas can make use of the deadly skills for which they are famous. While guarding a convoy of trucks carrying aid last week to the village of Los Palos, a Gurkha force was advised by villagers that militiamen were operating in the town of Com on East Timor’s eastern tip.

A detachment broke off from the convoy, closed in on Com and rescued about 3,000 East Timorese being held by a small group of armed militia members. At least four of the militiamen surrendered.

The Gurkhas’ willingness to risk their lives has led to charges that the British are using Nepalese to do their dirty work. Tens of thousands of Gurkhas have died in British wars, and, until recently, Gurkhas earned less than their British counterparts while often undertaking more dangerous jobs. Recently, Britain equalized wages and most benefits.

On urban patrols here, the Gurkhas walk in two lines of four, hugging the buildings on either side of any thoroughfare. Their mandate is to disarm civilians found with weapons. The Gurkhas have created a mini-museum back at headquarters displaying the munitions they have seized, from automatic weapons to bizarre homemade pistols that must be loaded with gunpowder and lighted with a fuse through a hole in the barrel, in a variation on 16th century technology.

In recent days, patrols have found five bodies.

When the battalion first started patrolling, the streets of Dili were largely deserted. But as people have emerged from hiding and returned to the battered city, the streets have started to fill up and life is slowly returning to something closer to normal.

Each soldier on patrol carries approximately 55 pounds of equipment, including his assault rifle, a special Gurkha knife known as a kukri--a traditional weapon that forms part of the battalion insignia--ammunition, a compass, flashlights and at least 24 hours’ worth of food.

The Gurkhas, who derive their name from a former capital of the Nepalese kingdom, were recruited by British forces in India during the last century. They soon distinguished themselves in various Indian campaigns. One common tactic was to deploy Gurkhas on the high ground while British troops advanced along valley roads below.

Things are not appreciably different today, as Gurkhas patrol the mountain ridge above the U.N. compound here.

“We are sent up on the cliff because it’s vulnerable,” Lance Cpl. Gajurman Rai said.

Many of the same skills needed in jungle warfare, meanwhile, are useful in peacekeeping missions, Lillingston-Price said. These include a strong awareness of surroundings, sharp eyesight and calm in the face of hostility.

Most Gurkhas come from rural Nepal, one of the poorest, most mountainous regions on Earth, where a trip to town often involves climbing steep grades at high altitude. In the words of one officer, these are not your average British or American softies.

Gurkha soldiers also tend to be the sons and grandsons of veterans. Recruiting rules have been relaxed under pressure from British anti-discrimination laws: While Gurkhas were traditionally drawn from Nepal’s warrior caste, the force is now open to all members of all castes.

“My father was also in the army for the British, and also my grandfather,” said Taraprasad Limbu, a 26-year-old lance corporal. “I’m proud to be a Gurkha.”

Finally, the Gurkhas tend to stay in good physical shape throughout their careers, not just during basic training.

Today, there are two Gurkha battalions. One is based in Britain. The other, the 2nd Battalion serving in East Timor, is headquartered in Brunei.