CHAPTER 2: City of Palaces

Of the women welfare workers on board, two of us had come out as members of the Toc H War Services Staff and were bound for Calcutta, where our H.Q. for the Far East were established. Being the first women members of the staff to go out East, we were given a tremendous welcome on our arrival at Howrah Station, and from then on we were inundated with invitations. Indeed, of the kindness and hospitality extended to us I cannot say enough, yet it is the last place in the world where I should care to live. Never have I been so shocked and appalled as I was at the filth, squalor and poverty which I saw in Calcutta – capital of Bengal, the residence of the Governor and the third city of the Empire! Nor will I forget my impression of Chowringhee – Calcutta’s main thoroughfare. The place was simply seething with humanity. Indians of every caste and creed swarmed the pavements, taxis driven by burly, bearded and turbaned Sikhs went honking-tonking up and down, rickshaws went haring in and out of the traffic, a holy cow suddenly sauntered across the road bringing everything to a standstill with screeching of brakes while from under a large black umbrella, a policeman immaculate in white drill and red fez, gazed imperturbably upon the scene!

How different Chowringhee looked when I returned a year later [1]. The street was momentarily deserted. Gone were the trams, the taxis, the rickshaws, even the holy cows had disappeared! Then like a mighty tidal wave they came – thousands and thousands of Bengal’s Muslims – waving flags, shouting slogans and brandishing long poles. Soon what had been a demonstration turned into a communal riot. Twice I head shots ring out as the officers on guard opened fire over the heads of the mob, who, hurling brickbats in every direction, tried unsuccessfully to force entry into the hotel where I was staying. Later the crowd dispersed and by the evening things had quietened down. All military personnel were confined to barracks, but the Billeting Officer at the hotel was in constant touch with the Fort, and from him we learnt that in other quarters the situation was deteriorating hourly and that murder, looting and arson were the order of the day. The tension was becoming unbearable, and we were all very relieved when the military were called in. After the planes could be heard roaring overhead, while convoys of tanks, armored cars, Red Cross vehicles and fire engines patrolled the city. In the five days I spent there, several thousand people were killed[2], the streets were strewn with dead, who, before they could be removed, were attacked by vultures swooping down from the clouds, the hospitals were filled to overflowing while shops and houses were burnt down and the goods looted. The City of Palaces – so called because of its many beautiful buildings had become the City of the Dead.

Next Page: CHAPTER 3: The Land of the Pagoda

FOOTNOTE

[1] 16 August 1946

[2] 4,000 were estimated to have been killed during the riots