On September 2nd 1945, within hours of Imperial Japan’s Emperor Hirohito formally signing an instrument of surrender and ending World War II in the Pacific, Ho Chi Minh, leader of the Viet Minh, proclaimed the Democratic Republic of Vietnam’s foundation. Liberally citing passages from the 1776 US Declaration of Independence, Ho pledged that his newly-created state would never again be subject to foreign domination or exploitation, and evermore remain independent, governed solely by and for its people.

Vietnam’s radical post-war euphoria was palpably captured by French photographer Germaine Krull, a French photographer who visited the country mere days later. In her diary, she observed how in Saigon, “all the streets were hung with large banners and all the walls and official buildings” bore revolutionary inscriptions. They declared; “down with French imperialism; down with the colonials; the era of colonization is over; down with slavery.” The Communist-dominated Viet-Minh’s “big red [flag] with the yellow star” could also be seen in profusion.

This was quite some contrast from the scenes that greeted Krull at Saigon airport. There, “an unusual situation prevailed”:

“It was being serviced entirely by the Japanese. They were doing everything: driving trucks and cars, standing guard, carrying luggage and refuelling. The British were in command of them and kept order…The Japanese performed their duties faultlessly and were perfectly disciplined.”

Krull had flown in on one of several “transport planes carrying British troops,” among them a sizeable detachment of “handsome, impeccable” Gurkhas, along with “their Scotch commanding officer.” Unstated by the photographer, their mission was to comprehensively crush the country’s dreams of independence, and re-establish France’s control over her colonial holding. Under its auspices, the “unusual situation” of Vietnam’s recently vanquished Japanese occupiers taking orders from and working alongside the British, until mere days earlier their sworn adversaries, was not restricted to Saigon airport.

Many decades later, Britain’s immediate post-war intervention in Vietnam remains virtually unknown. Yet, despite lasting just six months, the bitter conflict cost many lives, and effectively ignited the three-decade-long Vietnam War, which ended in embarrassing defeat for invading Western powers. The impact on the region, and wider world, endures for untold numbers of people today. It is a sordid, secret chapter in London’s recent history, urgently demanding re-evaluation.

That the British meant grave business in Vietnam is amply underscored by their Indian Army’s entire 20th Division’s deployment to the country. As journalist George Rosie reported in 1970, this force had “been at the very heart of the fighting” against Japan over Burma, and in turn control over the whole subcontinent. Across countless brutal battles, its units fought off “ferocious” attacks, “inflicting terrible casualties” on the enemy.

The 20th Division was particularly central to these efforts. By the end of World War II, Rosie recorded, “there was no more skilful, experienced and battle-hardened” unit in Burma. The Division was “probably the best division in one of the best armies in Asia.” Now, its soldiers were to target their well-honed proficiency in the art of killing against the Vietnamese. In all, 26,000 British soldiers along with 2,500 military vehicles were airdropped into Saigon for the purpose.

Three artillery regiments also arrived, while the Royal Air Force was on hand with 14 spitfires and 34 Mosquito fighter bombers in support. Backing this vast invading army were Vichy French and Japanese troops, who were provided with new weapons by their British counterparts. The official objective was to “maintain law and order and ensure internal security” in Vietnam. Still, the British and their conquered underlings were given explicit orders to savagely crush any and all local resistance, even if innocent civilians were killed:

“There is no front in these operations: we would be dealing with bands of guerillas…We may find it difficult to distinguish friend from foe…Also beware of ‘nibbling’ at opposition. Always use the maximum force available to ensure wiping out any hostile we may meet. If one uses too much no harm is done. If one uses too small a force and it has to be extricated [sic] we will suffer casualties and encourage the enemy.”

Quickly, the Vietnamese began dying in vast numbers. However, this bloodsoaked incursion initially went entirely unremarked upon in the British media, and parliament, for several months. As such, the public at home remained completely in the dark about their Army waging another grand foreign entanglement, let alone in tandem with its World War II enemies. This conspiracy of silence continued until December 1945, when a joint letter authored by British soldiers in Vietnam, sent to then-Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin, was published by The Guardian:

“It appears that we are collaborating with Japanese and French forces against the nationalist forces of Viet Minh. For what purpose is this collaboration? Why are we not disarming the Japanese? We desire the definition of government policy regarding the presence of British troops in Indo-China.”

These bombshell disclosures attracted little interest, and were promptly forgotten. The signatories received a stern talking to from a senior military official, and no further revelations about Britain’s covert war in Vietnam subsequently emerged. In the meantime, slaughter of innocent civilians continued apace. Much later, one of the signatories to the joint letter recalled of his time in the country:

“We saw homes being burned and hundreds of the local population being kept in compounds. We saw many ambulances, open at the back, carrying mainly - actually, totally - women and children, who were in bandages. I remember it very vividly. All the women and children who lived there would stand outside their homes, all dressed in black, and just grimly stare at us, really with…hatred.”

Come mid-January next year, the Viet Minh had learned lessons from launching large-scale attacks on British-led forces, which frequently ended with significant casualties due to their opponents’ superior firepower, and extensive use of machine guns. Hanoi’s freedom fighters thereafter adopted a raft of guerrilla tactics, including ambushes, assassinations, and hit-and-run raids on enemy patrols. It was the world’s first modern unconventional war. These strategies were devastatingly employed against French and US invaders for three decades thereafter.

Control of the mission was formally signed over by London to French generals at the end of March 1946, and most of her forces duly left Hanoi. France was emboldened by the perceived success of Britain’s intervention, believing Ho Chi Minh’s forces couldn’t withstand further onslaught from a “civilised”, professional army. This delusion led Paris to launch  all-out war against Hanoi again in December of that year, and Washington to 

For its part, in the post-World War II period, Britain waged a number of covert wars in every corner of the world, as its financial and military clout rapidly withered. In many cases, Washington subsequently stepped in to fill London’s shoes, taking over management of far-flung crises and emergencies, and in the process Britain’s fallen empire. The past 80 years has been a neverending story of American struggle to master the dual legacies of colonialism and partition, bequeathed by its own former imperial overlord.