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Authors: Stephen Leather
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into one for Nepalis, because the Gurkha pension is often the only cash income for a man’s entire village. The army money is absolutely vital for the local economy.’
‘That’s pretty much how it goes in Hereford,’ said Shepherd. ‘A big chunk of the local economy depends on the Regiment.’
‘At the same time, the Army Gurkha Team is running the annual selection courses for potential recruits to the Brigade of Gurkhas,’ Gul continued. ‘As the Army has downsized, the competition for places in the recruitment process has got tougher and tougher, but to be a Gurkha soldier is still almost every young man’s ambition in Nepal.’ He smiled. ‘And of course we remain the world’s most ferocious fighters.’
‘Present company excepted,’ Jock said, grinning.
Gul’s smile widened. ‘Perhaps, although it would be an interesting contest. In the Anglo-Nepal war of 1814-16, Gurkhas so frightened the British soldiers that they decided to recruit us to fight alongside them, instead of against them, and we’ve been part of the British army ever since. We Gurkhas fear no one and our war cry remains the same: “Jaya Mahakali, Ayo Gorkhali” - Glory to Great Kali, Gurkhas approach.’
‘Who’s Kali?’ Geordie asked, pronouncing it to rhyme with “alley”.
‘A four-armed god, whose hands hold a trident, a sword, a severed head and a bowl for catching the blood from the head.’
‘A nice friendly god then,’ Jimbo said with a laugh. ‘My favourite sort.’
‘Are there no other jobs for Gurkha boys than soldiering?’ Shepherd asked.
Gul shrugged. ‘There are some in the commercial security sector but those are invariably reserved for ex-Gurkha soldiers. The only other source of cash income is in the tourist climbing industry but that’s a closed shop to anyone outside of the Sherpas. So the pressures on my country’s young men are already considerable and the political situation in Nepal is only making that worse. The Ruling Family is imploding, dogged by constant claims of corruption, and the main opposition is a Maoist Party with a violent revolutionary agenda. There have already been a number of bloody attacks on remote police stations and district headquarters, and the unrest has now spread to the capital, Kathmandu. In fact things are so desperate that I’ve even been approached to enter Nepalese politics myself.’
‘Why you, Gul?’ Geordie said. He paused for a moment and then hastily added ‘No disrespect intended but, well, you’re just a squaddie like us.’
‘Well, in other countries retired people watch football, but in Nepal we watch soldiering, and though I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, I am quite well known in my country.’
Jock interrupted him. ‘Quite well known? Do me a favour, you’re bloody famous and you know it: the first ever Special Forces Gurkha, with a string of citations and decorations for bravery. I don’t know how you’ll do in politics though. From what I know of you, you’re straight as a die and a man who tells it like it is - an honest man, in fact, and if Nepalese politics is anything like ours, that’s not exactly a qualification for the job.’
Gul smiled. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, I’ve not made up my mind yet. I’m going to travel round the country with the pension payment delivery and the Gurkha selection courses, sound people out in different parts of Nepal and try to get a feeling for whether they think that I should run for office or not. There will be some risk if I take that path, but if I can help to save my country from civil war, I have to do it. It’s my duty.’
Jock disappeared behind the bar and re-emerged with a bottle of whisky and what was left of the dark rum. ‘A toast then, to Nepal’s next Prime Minister,’ he said, filling their glasses to the brim.
A series of increasingly incoherent toasts followed: to Anglo-Nepali friendship, the Brigade of Gurkhas, the SAS and the “Toon Army” - the last
‘That’s pretty much how it goes in Hereford,’ said Shepherd. ‘A big chunk of the local economy depends on the Regiment.’
‘At the same time, the Army Gurkha Team is running the annual selection courses for potential recruits to the Brigade of Gurkhas,’ Gul continued. ‘As the Army has downsized, the competition for places in the recruitment process has got tougher and tougher, but to be a Gurkha soldier is still almost every young man’s ambition in Nepal.’ He smiled. ‘And of course we remain the world’s most ferocious fighters.’
‘Present company excepted,’ Jock said, grinning.
Gul’s smile widened. ‘Perhaps, although it would be an interesting contest. In the Anglo-Nepal war of 1814-16, Gurkhas so frightened the British soldiers that they decided to recruit us to fight alongside them, instead of against them, and we’ve been part of the British army ever since. We Gurkhas fear no one and our war cry remains the same: “Jaya Mahakali, Ayo Gorkhali” - Glory to Great Kali, Gurkhas approach.’
‘Who’s Kali?’ Geordie asked, pronouncing it to rhyme with “alley”.
‘A four-armed god, whose hands hold a trident, a sword, a severed head and a bowl for catching the blood from the head.’
‘A nice friendly god then,’ Jimbo said with a laugh. ‘My favourite sort.’
‘Are there no other jobs for Gurkha boys than soldiering?’ Shepherd asked.
Gul shrugged. ‘There are some in the commercial security sector but those are invariably reserved for ex-Gurkha soldiers. The only other source of cash income is in the tourist climbing industry but that’s a closed shop to anyone outside of the Sherpas. So the pressures on my country’s young men are already considerable and the political situation in Nepal is only making that worse. The Ruling Family is imploding, dogged by constant claims of corruption, and the main opposition is a Maoist Party with a violent revolutionary agenda. There have already been a number of bloody attacks on remote police stations and district headquarters, and the unrest has now spread to the capital, Kathmandu. In fact things are so desperate that I’ve even been approached to enter Nepalese politics myself.’
‘Why you, Gul?’ Geordie said. He paused for a moment and then hastily added ‘No disrespect intended but, well, you’re just a squaddie like us.’
‘Well, in other countries retired people watch football, but in Nepal we watch soldiering, and though I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, I am quite well known in my country.’
Jock interrupted him. ‘Quite well known? Do me a favour, you’re bloody famous and you know it: the first ever Special Forces Gurkha, with a string of citations and decorations for bravery. I don’t know how you’ll do in politics though. From what I know of you, you’re straight as a die and a man who tells it like it is - an honest man, in fact, and if Nepalese politics is anything like ours, that’s not exactly a qualification for the job.’
Gul smiled. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, I’ve not made up my mind yet. I’m going to travel round the country with the pension payment delivery and the Gurkha selection courses, sound people out in different parts of Nepal and try to get a feeling for whether they think that I should run for office or not. There will be some risk if I take that path, but if I can help to save my country from civil war, I have to do it. It’s my duty.’
Jock disappeared behind the bar and re-emerged with a bottle of whisky and what was left of the dark rum. ‘A toast then, to Nepal’s next Prime Minister,’ he said, filling their glasses to the brim.
A series of increasingly incoherent toasts followed: to Anglo-Nepali friendship, the Brigade of Gurkhas, the SAS and the “Toon Army” - the last
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