Gurkas are so tough bastards. Met a few while I was a US Army Infantryman. Glad I did not have to go up against them.
Ayo Ghurkali!
First time I met them, I was doing my infantry battle school in wainwright, Alberta. One I befriended gave me a kukri. We had a lot of mutual respect, they thought we were tough bastards for handling the elements the way we did.
There’s a story, probably apocryphal, about a British officer who tried to recruit some Gurkhas for a very dangerous mission.
He told them they would be brought over the jungle by airplane, they would jump out and after touching down would assemble and proceed through difficult terrain to attack a strong enemy position, and their odds of coming back were low.
Of the several hundred Gurkhas, only about ten volunteered. The officer was perplexed, because he expected to do much better.
He thought for a minute, and then said “When you jump out of the plane, you’ll have a parachute.”
Then they all volunteered.
In his WWII memoir “Quartered Safe Out Here”, George MacDonald Fraser tells of a Gurkha unit attacking a Japanese position in some woods. Fraser was told by a Highlander officer that a number of the Gurkhas threw down their rifles when charging the position, in order to use their kukris more effectively.
I was reading a book on Merrills Marauders and it talked about meeting the Gurkhas.
The American volunteers were constantly asking to see the blades carried by the Gurkhas.
The Indians would happily show them off but would prick their finger enough to draw blood before sheathing the blade.
It was a matter of honor, once unsheathed the blade had to draw blood before it could be put away.
Tough guys indeed.
DO NOT mess with the Ghurkas.