13

The Second World War

The impact of the Second World War on Kenya was very different from the First World War. There was no surprise about it. Dawning apprehension that it would come began to spread in about 1934, and before the end of 1937 it had became a probability. Although instant reactions were of exasperation that this further trouble should strike just as the country appeared to be set for a period of orderly progress, one soon got swept along with the tide and, accepting what appeared to be inevitable, war preparations became a first priority. The Italian conquest of Abyssinia (now Ethiopia) in 1935 brought the idea further to the fore and it seemed certain that, if war came, Kenya would be heavily involved and, on this occasion, would be far more than a side-show.¹

It appeared probable that an invasion of the colony in force by the Italian army in Abyssinia might be expected almost immediately on the outbreak of war. Seeing that the total strength of trained infantry in the whole of the East African territories was only just over two brigades – six KAR battalions and one of Northern Rhodesia Rifles – with practically nothing in the way of supporting arms and services, much ground might have to be yielded before South African help could arrive. It was vital, therefore, that Mombasa should be held, both to facilitate recovery and later, when the Italian threat should have been disposed of, to enable Kenya to play a part in the wider war. It could even be foreseen that the Mediterranean would not be freely usable for the transport of troops or supplies to Egypt and that Kenya might become a very important base for the support of a front in the Middle East.

In addition to the seven regular battalions, there was a territorial battalion of KAR in Uganda and the Kenya Regiment of European volunteers, which was raised in 1937, had a peacetime strength of scarcely 200. There was also, at Mombasa, a small but keen Naval Reserve (Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve) for harbour defence. As the threat of war drew closer, district commandants of the Kenya Defence Force were appointed in all districts in which there were more than a handful of Europeans.

Manpower committees were formed in all provinces and districts and, in anticipation of conscription, lists were prepared of all Europeans available for military service and of those held essential to be retained in their civil occupations. Asians who had handed in their names were also listed, but they showed little eagerness to come forward. The purpose of the lists was not so much to find men for the army as to prevent a general rush to join the forces, such as had happened in the First World War with chaotic results to the civil economy. It also allowed men to be fitted into any service, military or civil, where they would be of most use. The group farm manager system tried with some success in the previous war was worked out in greater detail and made ready to be put into effect. Air raid precaution schemes were prepared and a little preliminary practice done. Preparations were also made for a special additional police training centre to provide a quick training course for the extra recruits who would be required for the expansion of the police force as quickly as possible after the outbreak of war. But while it was possible to make such paper defence plans in anticipation of war, the ‘spirit of Munich’ and the hope of peace, not to mention lack of funds, prevented much more being undertaken, except in a minor degree.

It was clearly foreseen that, if war broke out, transport for military operations would not be like the previous war. There would be no long, long processions of head-load porterage, and support for mechanical transport would be of a different kind. Tracks would have to be made and kept open, rough bridges built, lorries manhandled through the mud, and lines of communication would have to be protected. Clearance had not yet been given by the East Africa Command to expand or to raise supporting arms and services, but the civil administration was apprehensive that, if no start was made, the experience of the Carrier Corps in the previous war would be repeated, that is to say, large numbers of men would be called up in a hurry with no proper arrangements made either for officering them, or for documentation, equipment, medicine checking, balanced rations, or training. Very heavy casualties from sickness would certainly result. Accordingly, the matter was discussed at a provincial commissioners' meeting with the governor presiding, and it was arranged that a small nucleus of Pioneer recruits should be raised and trained in Nyanza Province. The question of arming them was, at first, a bone of contention but it was agreed that, on the outbreak of war, at least a quarter should be armed; and eventually they all were.² The nucleus was only 360 men, but it was at least a beginning.

Matters of supply arrangements were made through the defence committees for the listing of lorries to be commandeered for the use of the Army on mobilization. About a quarter of all lorries were so earmarked. Possibly they were of some use to the Army in the first month or two; but the main effect when the time came was to reveal what a deplorable collection of outworn vehicles were being driven on roads. Fortunately the Army did not have to rely on them for long.

In spite of the disparity between East African forces and the large Italian army in Abyssinia – estimated at 300,000, of whom 91,000 were Europeans – there was no sign of alarm anywhere. On the contrary, the mood of the country erred towards complacency, but with the still nearer approach of war – in fact when it was imminent – the East African War Council was formed on the basis of the governors' conference. After war was declared its small secretariat was progressively expanded to cope with new duties. Air Chief Marshal Sir Robert Brooke-Popham, the governor of Kenya, was recalled to his military duties and was succeeded as governor by Sir Henry Monck-Mason Moore, who continued as governor of Kenya and chairman of the conference until the end of the war. Sir Philip Mitchell gave up his post as governor of Uganda to devote himself to the central organisation of the war effort as vice-chairman of the War Council and the chief secretary of Tanganyika was seconded to become civil liaison officer with the East African Command.³ Great care was taken in setting up the governors' conference machinery, to see that civil officers from the other East African territories got the lion's share of senior posts and so mitigate any resentment there might be at Nairobi being made headquarters. There was general agreement that, from both a civil and military point of view, Nairobi was the best centre for overall direction, but this was admitted by the other territories with acquiescence rather than enthusiasm. The organisation proved adaptable and worked smoothly through the war, not only in matters relating directly to the East African forces and their needs but also in coordinating supplies throughout the East African territories, keeping the internal economy efficient, feeding the enormous numbers of prisoners of war after the Abyssinian campaign, sending substantial supplies of maize and other produce to the Middle East, and dealing with a host of incidental problems as they progressively revealed themselves.

***

East Africa, with Abyssinia, was included as part of the Middle East Command under the over-all direction of Lieutenant General Wavell; and the new general officer commanding, Major General Dickinson, arrived by air only 24 hours before war was declared. The outbreak of war, when it came, was something of an anti-climax. The Italians failed to invade, as expected, and nine more months were to elapse before they eventually declared war on the 10th June 1940.

The interval was useful and gave time to prepare. The initial rounding-up of enemy aliens was accomplished without any trouble by the police and the defence forces. It was only in Tanganyika that numbers were substantial and it was soon found possible to release most of them as harmless. Meanwhile the reinforcement and expansion of the East Africa forces proceeded according to plan. Two brigades of West Africans arrived and were to stay on through the Abyssinian campaign. The First South African Brigade also disembarked at Mombasa in July 1940, and went into training for bush warfare at Gilgil. Under this cover the expansion and training of new East African formations began. The Kenya Regiment provided officers and non-commissioned officers to bring establishments of the KAR battalions to full war strength, and, in due course, it became specifically concerned with providing officers and non-commissioned officers for new formations. There were of course not nearly enough Europeans of suitable age available locally for the purpose, so others had to be drafted in from Britain and the dominions. Attempts were made to maintain officers with East African experience in a proportion of about a third, and arrangements were also made for new officers without previous experience of East Africa to visit tribal reserves and acquaint themselves with the way that Africans lived at home. They took especial care to learn Swahili and, after a year or so, there was no distinction in fluency to be observed between them and the average officer locally born.

The first East African troops to enter Abyssinia were probably the ‘Recces’, later the East African Reconnaissance Regiment. Initially an irregular unit conceived and manned entirely by Kenya settlers, they were to achieve a fine reputation in their detached role. Their objective was to rally the Abyssinians in revolt against the Italians and so embarrass their preparations for the invasion of Kenya. For the general organisation of the operation, Wavell chose Colonel D. A. Sandford, a former gunnery officer who, after serving in the Sudan, had taken up farming in Abyssinia and had acted for a time as adviser to the Emperor Haile Selassie, and for raising and training the rebel bands he chose Major Orde Wingate, whose original methods of combating Arab guerrillas in Palestine had greatly impressed him. Colonel Sandford began operations from a base in Khartoum from the date when Italy declared war. Three months later, on the 20th September 1940, he had moved deep into Abyssinia and established his headquarters at a place called Faguta, some 30 miles south of Lake Tana.

During the initial period while the Italians had overwhelming preponderance they succeeded, in July and August, in taking the Sudanese frontier towns of Gallabat and Kassala on their western flank and overrunning British Somaliland on their east. Their southward drive into Kenya was half-hearted and got no further than North Horr in the Northern Frontier province. By Christmas 1940 the position had been stabilised and forces in Kenya, now under General Cunningham, were ready to take the offensive. Besides the South Africans, whose strength by this time had been built up to a division, there were the 21st and 22nd East Africa Brigades, consisting, in effect, of the KAR and Northern Rhodesia Rifles battalions already mentioned; the 23rd and 24th Brigades, consisting of reinforcements sent from West Africa; and the East Africa Armoured Cars, recently formed from half of the 3rd KAR when that battalion was divided into two. Among the supporting troops were the Pioneers. Expanded into two battalions at the outbreak of war, they had not made too auspicious a start. They had been treated as a poor relation when it came to such things as the issue of equipment and weapons and the supply of a sufficient cadre of officers. This had had an inevitable effect on morale, but when reorganised they played a full and valuable part. One of the battalions became a dual purpose infantry and engineer battalion under Colonel Blundell – later styled the 51st East Africa Engineer Battalion⁴ – and the other split into three engineering companies.

The prelude to the general offensive, which ended in the total destruction of the Italian armies in Abyssinia, was the recapture of Kassala by General Platt in January 1941. The plan then put into operation in February consisted of three elements: General Platt, with the 4th and 5th Indian Divisions, operating from the Sudan and invading Eritrea in the north; General Cunningham, with the South African and East African divisions, advancing on Addis Ababa from the south; and nationalist irregular forces stimulated by Colonel Wingate spreading havoc in the interior. These latter were encouraged by the presence of their emperor, who was flown in from Khartoum on the day that Kassala was recovered.⁵

The attack from Kenya began with some hard fighting in disputing the passage of the Juba River. Once that line had been turned, the Italian army cracked. The whole coast area to Mogadishu yielded with no appreciable resistance and, on the advance northwards to Addis Ababa, the pace was so fast as to run off the maps which the Survey Units were preparing at top speed. Addis Ababa fell on the 5th April, barely two months after the defence line of the Juba River had been turned; an astonishing rate of advance over a distance of some 750 miles in a straight line from Nairobi and more like 1,000 actually travelled.

Meanwhile, in the second half of January, the two Indian divisions under General Platt, having cleared the Sudan of Italian forces, had invaded from the north. Here they came up against a very strong natural defensive position on Keren Mountain, held by two regular divisions. Early attacks failed and the Italians put up by far the most determined resistance they displayed in the whole campaign. The position could not be turned, and arrangements for frontal attack had to be prepared in full view of the enemy. Air support was obtained from South Africa and, finally, after preparations lasting several weeks, General Platt's two divisions took the position by direct assault on the 27th March after a battle lasting three days. This broke Italian resistance in the north.

The issue of the campaign was now certain, but mopping-up operations over that vast country lasted several months. The last serious struggle was at Gondar, where the Italians resisted with the best spirit they had shown since Juba and Keren. This was the end of the fighting. It was now the turn of the civil authority to take over. So began the Occupied Enemy Territory Administration, formed from officers who could, with difficulty, be spared from the district administration in East Africa. The whole organisation was placed under the command of Sir Philip Mitchell with the rank of major-general.⁶

Taken all round, the Italians had done miserably. They failed to attack immediately when Italy declared war, when they still had great superiority in numbers and material, and in the whole campaign it appears that they only dropped two bombs on Kenya, both of which fell quite harmlessly in open country near Malindi. Obviously they did not have their hearts in it and indeed in some cases, as at Mogadishu, they seemed almost glad to surrender. The probable explanation was that they were fighting from a base in a hostile country only recently conquered and in constant dread of a rising, and had given hostages to fortune by bringing out large numbers of civilian settlers with their wives and children.

***

The total of East African forces engaged on various fronts in the course of the war was very large. Of front-line, fully-trained infantry, not counting holding battalions or depots, there were, by the end of the war, nine East African Brigades (numbers 21, 22 and 25–31 inclusive), each of three battalions, making, with divisional reinforcements and a few unbrigaded units, a little over 30 battalions in all. Seven of them were from Northern Rhodesia, one from Southern Rhodesia, and the rest were KAR, including two of Somalis. Besides these there were two armoured car units, which became the Third Armoured Cars and the Reconnaissance Regiment after its reorganisation. One can also include with the infantry the dual-purpose 51st Engineer Battalion already mentioned. Six field regiments of artillery were also raised, of which one remained in Kenya, one was tragically sunk by enemy action on the voyage to Ceylon, and the other four saw service in Ceylon and Burma.

The 11th East Africa Division and all brigades had their complement of supporting arms and services like field ambulances, engineer companies and supply and transport units. They also had specialist units such as military police, signallers and surveyors. Very large numbers of East Africa Pioneers and Garrison Infantry companies formed from them served in the Middle East. Twenty-five thousand would be a conservative estimate of the total East African forces there from Syria to Tunisia. Lastly, there was the East African Military Labour Service (MLS), again many thousands, whose service was confined to East Africa. There they were used for almost any labour task which had a war purpose about it.

Recruitment of Africans for this great expansion of the forces was done by one of two alternative methods or, occasionally, by a combination of both. This applied particularly to Kenya, but arrangements in the other territories were not far different. The Army would either send out its own recruiting officers among the population or use the machinery set up by the civil administration. Although general conscription had been introduced at the outbreak of war, it was not used to conscript men to the fighting forces. The only unit for which it was used in Kenya was the MLS, and they were not to be employed outside East Africa. They could, however, volunteer for other units. While they were in the holding depots undergoing their habilitation treatment – that is to say, their inoculations, documentation, becoming accustomed to their rations, camp hygiene and simple discipline, and having arrangements for their family remittances made – they were allowed to volunteer for general service in preference to the MLS, provided that they were found fully fit in every respect. Army recruiting officers would call periodically, have the volunteers paraded and make their selection. The rifle and the enhanced estimation they would have in the eyes of their women were the inducements – for whereas the MLS was unarmed, all other services were armed. Thus there was keen competition to be selected.

After leaving their original recruiting and habilitation depots, recruits received training for several months. It was estimated to take about eight months to train an efficient KAR soldier, and rather longer for an artilleryman and some of the specialist units. This ended with brigade training, the principal centres being the Yatta Plateau in Kenya, and Moshi in Tanganyika. The artillery used Lark Hill, in the Kedong valley, or Gilgil. One of the special values of brigade training was that troops from different parts of East Africa got to know and appreciate each other better. Considering the vast area from which they were drawn it is not surprising that the Chinyanja-speaking battalions from Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland should have tended at first to stick together and look askance at the Kenya, Uganda and Tanganyika battalions, who for their common language used Swahili and yet were a bewildering variety of ethnic groups. It took a little time for prejudices to wear off, but, by mixing battalions from different territories in the same brigade, this was eventually achieved.

Although East African troops were not sent overseas until they had been fully trained, a partial exception to this rule existed with the Pioneer companies sent to the Middle East. They sometimes had to be sent urgently, with inadequate training, but the deficiency was made good, at least to an extent, on arrival in Egypt where further training was given in the central Pioneer depot at Quassassin. Even before the Italian campaign was over, there was an urgent call for pioneers in the Middle East, and, happily, some such needs had been foreseen. By June 1942 there were eight groups of East Africa Pioneers in the western desert, stretching out to Tobruk and beyond, but they still had had next to no weapon training. The subsequent retreat was a severe test for them, but they won commendation for maintaining cohesion and the steadiness of their bearing. From that point onwards their expansion continued, and they fulfilled a rather dull but important support role, some as pioneer labour and some as garrison infantry, for the rest of the war, being widely distributed over the whole Middle East from Syria in the north to Tripolitania in the west. It was work requiring much patience, and they bore the monotony well. Welfare services, both East African and those of the Middle East command, did all that was possible to relieve the tedium. Their morale remained high, and health good.

***

The entry of Japan into the war in December 1941 – coming only about a fortnight after the Abyssinian campaign had come to an end with the fall of Gondar – opened out new fronts and further tasks for the East African forces. The 21st East Africa Brigade was among the first reinforcements to reach Ceylon,⁷ which had become a vital naval base after the fall of Singapore in February, and was later followed by the rest of the 11th East Africa Division. There it remained for approximately the next two years as part of the island defences until it moved to Burma.

Meanwhile, in 1942, East African troops became involved in operations in Madagascar, where the French governor-general had taken a pro-Vichy attitude and refused to cooperate in the defence of the island against the probability of a Japanese landing. The threat of Japanese occupation appeared to the British government to be so serious that preventive action had to be taken, even in the face of French opposition. An expedition was therefore dispatched, and the port of Diego Suarez was successfully attacked and occupied by British troops on the 5th May 1942. Further operations were then delayed for some months to give the governor-general a chance to revise his attitude and cooperate willingly with the British. As he remained stubborn, further landings took place in September and, this time, East African troops took part. The principal role was assigned to the 22nd East Africa Brigade under Brigadier Dimoline, which landed at Majunga and advanced southwards towards the capital at Tananarive. The enemy seemed uncertain in their minds whether to offer merely token resistance or to fight in earnest. It was sometimes one and sometimes the other. They mainly adopted delaying tactics but, after two months of this and a battle in which the whole brigade took part, the Vichy troops surrendered on the 4th November. During the discussion on terms, which took place in a wayside hotel, the French officers pointed out that campaign medals were not customarily awarded in France unless the campaign had lasted six months, and it was a day short of that since the landing at Diego Suarez. Brigadier Dimoline thereupon agreed to let the war go on until one minute after midnight; and at the appointed minute the surrender was signed and the medals were safe. The governor-general having now agreed to cooperate, the island continued under French administration, but the East Africa troops, to the strength of a little less than a division under Major-General Smallwood, remained until order was restored. The 22nd Brigade then left for Ceylon and, later, took part in the campaign in Burma.

In the middle of 1944 the 11th East African division, now consisting of the 21st, 22nd, 25th, 26th and 28th East African Brigades, left Ceylon and, after a short interval at Chittagong, repaired to Imphal where the Japanese advance on India was being finally halted. Their main role in the subsequent downward thrust through Burma was to reach and bridge the Chindwin River and establish a bridgehead beyond it.⁸ All this was duly accomplished, not without some sharp fighting at Jambo Hill, Kalewa, and beyond the Chindwin. At the turn of the years 1944–5 the 28^th East Africa Brigade was independently engaged in the direction of Myitkina, and the 71st KAR Battalion (Somalia) inflicted severe casualties on the enemy. The 22nd East Africa Brigade, detached and lent to the West Africa Division after mopping up Japanese detachments on Ramree Island, advanced southwards from Akyab to the Prome Road, which they reached by mid-May, and continued their advance in conjunction with the West Africans until the end of the war.

When the hostilities were over, East African forces in Burma retired to Ranchi where Major-General Dimoline, who had succeeded to the command of the division early in 1945, was faced with the difficult task of keeping the troops contented during the long period of waiting to return home. The same problem also arose in connection with demobilizing from the Middle East but in both cases and, indeed, in all others involving East African troops, the evacuation and subsequent return of the demobilized men to their homes was successfully accomplished without any untoward incident.⁹

***

It is doubtful whether many Africans joined the forces even at the beginning of the war because they thought their homes were in imminent danger of invasion or because they had any great preference for a British protectorate as against a German or Italian one. Tribesmen from the southern territories joined just as readily as those from Kenya and Uganda, which alone were threatened with invasion. Though many had genuine regard for the British connection, and expressions of loyalty to the Sovereign, if vague, were sincere, it would not have caused Africans to go to war if they had not been inclined for other reasons. Certainly they did not join out of affection for the British officials or settlers, however cordial their personal relations might have been.

The prime reason they came in – there is no doubt about it – is that they regarded fighting as a man's job of which they had been too long deprived. When intertribal wars had been stopped and families settled down to cultivate year after year on the same piece of land so that there was little fresh clearing to do, the women's work continued unaffected, but men were at a loose end. Football and dances had not filled the gap, and work for the white man was dull. Cattle raiding, though exciting, was apt to lead to gaol, while war seemed just as stimulating and was free for all. They were also encouraged because it enhanced their status in the tribe to enlist.¹⁰

East Africa's considerable war effort was supported by a corresponding civil and organizational operation. A first task for Kenya was to render itself as self-sufficient as possible and save shipping space by replacing imports with home production. Small factories were started, which afterwards grew, for making clothes, boots, hardware and other things, but though manufacture played an important part, the main feature of the wartime economy was the production and distribution of food. By each territory helping its neighbour – e.g. Uganda supplying Kenya with sugar and Kenya supplying Uganda and Tanganyika with dairy produce – internal self-sufficiency was largely achieved. Quantities also had to be stepped up to feed the Italian prisoners of war and to send a surplus to the Middle East. Besides agriculture, the meat, dairy and fishing industries were all expanded. All this meant hard work at the centre in the organisation of distribution, rationing, and price control. It also meant hard work on the 1and by the farmers and by the wives of those who had left on army service, both Europeans and Africans. The African women, besides their normal work of tilling and reaping, had to put their hand to ploughing and other work that in peacetime was done by the men. Field administration was also feeling the strain, for whenever a new task appeared and some new branch was started in Nairobi to deal with it or there was a call for more officers to staff the Occupied Enemy Territory Administration, it was always the field administration that was milked. The more work that had to be shouldered, therefore, the less staff there was to do it. There might have been a breakdown but for the loyal support of the clerical and subordinate services and, not least, the chiefs.

At the centre of affairs the staff of the governors' conference had been greatly expanded. Once the war was over, by a process so natural that the transition attracted very little public comment, the East African governors' conference became the East African High Commission, which was later replaced by the East African Common Services Organisation in 1962. It was formally established in 1946 and was charged with the direction, on behalf of Kenya, Uganda, Tanganyika, and Zanzibar, of subjects transferred to it to the extent specified in each case. These included customs and excise, transport, post and telecommunications, defence, income tax, commercial law and research. In conjunction with the powers of the High Commission, the East African legislative assembly was constituted with power to legislate in these matters. Formal association with Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland ceased at the end of the war, but it had been fruitful while it lasted.¹¹

On the civil side it is doubtful whether the war had any profound immediate effect on the Africans, except that the men away with the army were naturally missed and more work fell to the women. Most of the men on army service were bachelors. Leaves were pretty freely granted after the close of the Italian campaign before the troops proceeded overseas,¹² and, from the Middle East, leaves were granted at two-year intervals. Each man was invited, upon enrolment, to nominate a friend, usually a relative, to look after his affairs, and a two-way letter scheme was devised by which an askari's letter form had a blank space for the answer to be written, and it was sent back free of charge. In other respects civil life in the tribal lands continued much as usual, except that better prices were obtained for livestock and crops. There may have been more permanent effect in the way of delayed marriages, but not on a scale to attract notice or occasion remark.¹³

As to the effects on the settlers, it is probable that their experiences in the army did them good. The discipline, even the tedium of army routine had been well endured, and the men were conscious of having done well and borne their part with credit along with the soldiers of other countries. They were glad to be home again, and there can be very few who did not feel themselves to be better and more complete men than they were before they started.¹⁴

It has sometimes been written that resentment was caused by the officers being British and the rank and file African, and distinction made with separate messes between British and African non-commissioned officers. It is a possibility but I never heard any complaint of the kind voiced among any troops serving in active war areas, and only once or twice among units of garrison or supporting troops elsewhere, where the dullness of daily routine must have been irksome. Be that as it may, there was no holding back promotion from Africans for posts for which they had shown themselves qualified. Before the end of the war some African platoon commanders had been appointed with commissioned rank, and these steps were taken without any outside pressure as soon as men with the necessary qualifications appeared.

The wider question of the effect on raw tribesmen of having gone overseas and observed how people lived in other countries – sometimes several countries and all in the space of a few years – requires more analysis. Broadly speaking, East African forces in Burma, Ceylon, or Abyssinia were too busy to regard the local population as more than part of the scenery. In Madagascar, and still more on garrison duty in Egypt, Palestine, Lebanon, and Syria, they had more leisure to look round and, sometimes, to get into mischief. Having had exceptional opportunities of observing the demeanour of East African troops – indeed, having on one occasion been introduced to a visiting general as ‘our licensed spy’ – I knew of very few immediate consequences that resulted from this cause either abroad or, as far as I could ascertain, at home. By and large the off-duty behaviour of the East Africans was distinctly good. Exceptions were few, and any fears there might have been to the contrary turned out to be groundless.

Apart from any question of discipline or indiscipline, all these crowded new experiences of other countries could have caused some sort of mental indigestion. Even before the war there were many people who thought, rightly, that the pace of development during two generations had wrenched the tribesmen too far and too fast from their traditions, with a bewildering effect that might, one day, produce a sharp reaction. In that case these wartime experiences must have accelerated the pace. Besides, the idea was beginning to stir uneasily that life in Africa after the war could no longer be lived at its own tempo, but would be subject to increasing pressures from the world outside and, like it or not, it would have to adjust its policies to accord with them.

These forebodings apart, the overall effect of the war was wholly good for East Africa. The country had pulled together as never before, and there was better understanding between the territories and between the races. There could be very few people, whether among the armed forces or helping to keep the civil economy and production going, who did not look back on the war period as on a task well done, to which all races and all tribes had contributed. And, apart from the enhancement of morale, there was a material advantage in that the country had greatly increased its reputation abroad and evoked a lively new interest in East Africa.

1 Fazan's account of Kenya's role in the Second World War is written with all the authority that came from his being provincial commissioner of Nyanza, the most populous of Kenya's provinces and a major source of military manpower, at its outbreak, and then civil liaison officer with East Africa's armed forces after 1942. He also compiled the Native Affairs Department Report of 1945 that covered all the war years from the viewpoint of the provincial administration from which he had now retired. For Kenya's military history at this time, see Moyse-Bartlett, The KAR, for details of combat; Ashley Jackson, The British Empire and the Second World War (London: Hambledon Continuum, 2006), pp. 197–300 for Kenya's role in the war. Blundell, So Rough a Wind, Chapter 4; idem, A Love Affair with the Sun: A Memoir of Seventy Years in Kenya (Nairobi: Kenway Publications, 1994), Chapters 7–11; and John Nunneley, Tales from the King's African Rifles (London: Cassell, 2000), relate the memories of white officers, in the last of which the hero is Tomasi Kitinya Liech, the author's servant, from Fazan's Nyanza Province. See Parker, The Last Colonial Regiment, for the KAR's Kenya-born white officers. For the African experience, see Timothy Parsons, The African Rank-and-File: Social Implications of Colonial Military Service in the King's African Rifles, 1902–1964 (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 1999); David Killingray, Fighting for Britain: African Soldiers in the Second World War (Oxford: James Currey, 2010); and, at first-hand, Bildad Kaggia, Roots of Freedom 1921–1963 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1975), Chapters 3–5; Waruhiu Itote, ‘Mau Mau’ General (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1967), Chapter 3. Books about Mau Mau in the 1960s generally name the movement within inverted commas to indicate that it was not so much a self-appellation as a disparaging nickname given by its opponents; the inverted commas have since disappeared. For the war's influence on official attitudes to African welfare, see Joanna Lewis, Empire State-Building: War and Welfare in Kenya 1925–52 (Oxford: James Currey, 2000).

2 See below, note 4.

3 For this account Fazan was doubtless able to refer to Sir Philip Mitchell's autobiography, African Afterthoughts (London: Hutchinson, 1954).

4 For the African mutiny that forced the British to arm this unit, previously promised by Fazan as provincial commissioner of the predominantly Luo recruits, see Blundell, So Rough a Wind, pp. 50–1.

5 For a firsthand account by a white settler (initially in Tanganyika) and temporary officer, see W. E. Crosskill, The Two Thousand Mile War (London: Robert Hale, 1980); also, Michael Glover, An Improvised War: The Abyssinian campaign of 1940–1941 (London: Leo Cooper, 1987).

6 Mitchell, African Afterthoughts, Chapter X.

7 Now Sri Lanka.

8 For a most readable account of the KAR's role in this campaign, see Gerald Hanley, Monsoon Victory (London: Collins, 1946).

9 British Army commanders learned to treat East African troops with a greater consideration of their need to keep contact with home after the mutiny by 22nd KAR Brigade in early 1942; after defeating the Italians in Ethiopia, they were due to embark for Ceylon (Sri Lanka) without home leave. The 22nd Brigade distinguished itself thereafter, as Fazan notes. Individual soldiers were also known to protest, mainly over racial discrimination in pay and conditions; see Parsons, African Rank-and-File, Chapter 6.

10 Parsons (African Rank-and-File, Chapter 3), the KAR's social historian, is sceptical of this view; his evidence suggests, rather, that men volunteered largely from poorer regions and for economic reasons. Myles Osborne, Loyal Sons of Kenya: Virtue, Ethnicity and Martial Race among the Kamba c. 1800 to the Present (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), agrees with Fazan. But some African ideals of honourable warrior-hood were hostile to strict, demeaning, military discipline – which is why East Africa's chief ‘martial race’, the Maasai, was rarely found in the army.

11 What Fazan here describes as administratively rational, as it was, was also politically contentious, being a new form of ‘closer union’, in which Africans throughout East Africa feared being dominated by Kenya's white settlers and Kenya's settlers feared being swamped by Africans.

12 After the 22nd Brigade's mutiny, as earlier noted.

13 Fazan's view that war service had little effect on Africans is widely agreed by historians, although one can point to examples where former soldiers played a radical role in post-war politics, both Bildad Kaggia and Waruhiu Itote being important examples in the leadership of Mau Mau. See their autobiographies, details given above in note 1.

14 Michael Blundell and other Kenya settlers who had been officers in the KAR had also learned to respect their African troops – with, for some, a consequent liberalisation of their political attitudes.