A Decade of Travel - 6

 

In this 10-part series, I am recollecting my journeys from the last decade, one day from each year.

So far,

2011 – Orchha

2012 – Long Island (Andaman)

2013 – Tawang and Madhuri Lake

2014 – Murshidabad

2015 – Sanchi and Bhimbetka

Today:

2016 – Imphal-Tamu Road

1st January

Not many people are aware that some of the fiercest battles of WW-II were fought on Indian soil, in Manipur and Nagaland. My good friend, a WW-II aficionado, and I took the road from Imphal to Tamu on the pleasant New Year’s Day of 2016, almost exactly 5 years ago. Accompanying us was a local guide, Yai, with considerable knowledge of WW-II battles.  



The road from Imphal to Tamu, which is across the border in Myanmar, is approximately 110 kms long. This is the road through which the Japanese troops marched in from Burma. The strategic mountain pass of Senam falls midway along this road. It is around Senam that some of the most ferocious action took place in March – May 1944. It was ugly and brutal man to man combat. The positions on the surrounding hills changed hands repeatedly. Hundreds of Indian, British and Japanese soldiers were killed.

We walked along this stretch in grim contemplation as Yai fired up our imagination with his description of the action that might have happened. The picturesquely rolling hills on one side and landslide-scarred terrain on the other.





After several minutes of reflection, we proceeded further to the border crossing at Moreh. The paperwork was nominal and soon we were inside Myanmar. The milestones actually had “miles” on them.




We stopped at a sprawling Pagoda complex.



The beer at lunch was stronger than expected.



We then went to the market, which was already shutting down for the day. Here almost every woman sported thanaka on their cheeks. Derived from the bark of the Naringi Crenulata tree, it is apparently the national sunscreen lotion. Also flooding the market was Tengnoumanbi (winged beans), a widely consumed delicacy in these parts.





We crossed back to India through the Indo-Myanmar Friendship Bridge, and retraced the path. 



The hills around the Senam Pass were shrouded in darkness, but I could discern a faint glow of red. Probably of blood spilled 72 years ago.


 

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