From Meghalaya to France: The Untold Story of the Garo Labour Corps

Every year, on July 16, the people of Garo Hills in Meghalaya observe Garo Labour Corps Day, a solemn remembrance of those who served and never returned. But this year’s commemoration is marked by grief and anger over the demolition of the Cenotaph in Tura, a monument built to honour them. What was meant to be a symbol of remembrance has now been bulldozed into oblivion, sparking outrage and raising uncomfortable questions about the value placed on history in the face of modern development.

The Forgotten Soldiers of an Empire at War

In 1917, as World War I raged on, the British Empire turned to its colonies for reinforcements. From the Garo Hills of Meghalaya, 1,000 men were recruited into the 69th Garo Labour Corps, of whom 456 embarked on the treacherous journey to Europe. These men, accustomed to the lush hills of Northeast India, suddenly found themselves in the bitter cold of France, navigating not just the dangers of war, but the sheer brutality of unfamiliar terrain.

They did not carry rifles, nor were they counted among the fallen soldiers in official war records, but their contributions were no less significant. They laboured under extreme conditions, laying roads, moving artillery, and maintaining supply chains that kept the Allied forces advancing. Their resilience earned them commendations from British commanders, yet their story remains largely absent from mainstream history.

Of the 456 who left, only 120 survived the ordeal and returned home. Their homecoming on July 16, 1918, was bittersweet - a day of relief for the survivors but of mourning for the many who never returned. This day became etched into the history of Garo Hills, marking an annual day of reflection and tribute.

A Memorial Lost to Indifference

To honour the sacrifices of the Garo Labour Corps, a Cenotaph was erected in Tura, standing as a sentinel of memory for decades. A cenotaph, unlike a grave, is a symbolic monument for those who perished far from home. For the Garo people, it was not just a structure - it was a link to their past, a space of collective mourning and pride.

For years, the Cenotaph was the focal point of annual commemorations, a place where families, leaders, and citizens gathered to lay wreaths, offer prayers, and remember the fallen. It was a monument to their resilience and sacrifice, a reminder that their contributions mattered. But recent events have placed this legacy in peril.

In a move shrouded in secrecy, the Cenotaph was demolished, reportedly without proper community consultation. What was initially described as “renovation” turned out to be complete erasure. The hillock was bulldozed, monuments were removed, and in their place, plans for a commercial complex began to take shape.

Public Outrage and a Reckoning for Authorities

The sudden destruction of this sacred site was met with widespread anger and condemnation. The Mothers’ Union, Tura, one of the most vocal organizations, accused the administration of betraying public trust. Sume G.B. Sangma, the union’s secretary, described the event as shocking and deeply hurtful.

"We were told the site was being renovated. Renovation means restoring something, not wiping it off the map," she said.

Community leaders questioned why the historical and emotional significance of the Cenotaph was ignored. If development was necessary, could it not have coexisted with the monument rather than replacing it altogether?

Facing intense backlash, West Garo Hills Deputy Commissioner hastily called an emergency meeting on March 19, 2025 with civil society groups, activists, and local leaders. In a belated attempt at damage control, he assured them that construction had been halted and that any future action would be preceded by community consultation.

But for many, this is too little, too late. The physical damage has been done, and the emotional scars remain.

The Cost of Progress: Can Development and Heritage Coexist?

This controversy reflects a larger, unsettling trend - one where economic expansion and urban development come at the cost of history. It forces us to ask: How do we balance progress with the need to preserve our past?

Modernization is inevitable, but should it mean bulldozing away cultural and historical landmarks without considering alternative solutions? In many nations, heritage sites are preserved alongside urban growth - could a dedicated heritage park, museum, or integrated memorial not have been a viable alternative?

History is not just about stones and inscriptions; it is about identities, stories, and the legacy of those who came before us. When a monument like the Garo Labour Corps Cenotaph is erased, we do not just lose a structure - we lose a tangible connection to our past.

Rebuilding the Legacy: What Comes Next?

With construction halted, the people of Garo Hills now have an opportunity to demand a meaningful resolution. The fight must not end with stopping development - it must lead to a lasting tribute that truly honours the Garo Labour Corps.

The administration must rebuild the Cenotaph, ensuring that it is not just an afterthought, but a central part of the city’s historical landscape. Educational institutions should incorporate the history of the Garo Labour Corps into their curricula, ensuring that future generations remember their sacrifice. Additionally, there must be stronger heritage protection laws to prevent similar incidents from recurring in the future.

Public outrage may have forced a temporary halt, but true justice will only be served when the erasure is reversed and the memory of the Garo Labour Corps is given the respect it deserves.

A Nation’s Responsibility to Remember

History, once lost, is difficult to reclaim. The destruction of the Cenotaph serves as a reminder of how fragile collective memory is in the face of unchecked modernization. The responsibility of preserving history does not lie solely with the government - it is a collective duty of citizens, historians, educators, and policymakers.

As July 16 approaches, the people of Garo Hills stand at a crossroads. Will their history fade into obscurity, or will they reclaim the legacy of their ancestors? The halted construction is a small victory, but the larger battle - for recognition, remembrance, and respect - is far from over.

The Garo Labour Corps’ sacrifice must not be erased. Their story is one of courage, resilience, and honour - and it must endure, not just in the hearts of their descendants, but in the history of the nation.