THE OBSERVER-(M-15)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-15)😎

……..contd from M-14…….

Sun 09 Aug 2020

Had this been a movie or video form of narrative - here is where one would have gone into flashback or b/w mode.Just to recapitulate….i had completed my BSc Degree after a big struggle and literally made a bonfire of all my Science & Maths books prior to joining OTA. i was doing reasonably well all-round in OTA and was expecting to get my first choice of Arm(Inf) without difficulty.In the second term in OTA, i found myself being appointed PUO of our Platoon(N-8) .That was quite a task and a half but i rather enjoyed it, reporting to Capt Gill.The whole platoon simply adored him. On being ordered by him, i used to faithfully make all the two-mile failures run after dinner and report their timings the next day.Nothing could make me give him a false report and  i enjoyed his trust. All seemed to going pretty smoothly till the start of the infamous Ragda. One after the other, guys kept getting blisters and similar injuries and finding it difficult to attend parades, esp the first one.

i found my own way of covering up for guys by showing them as Sick In Lines ( as opposed to the official SIQ awarded by the Doc ) in the report to the Drill/PT instructors and they swallowed it. As we neared P.O.P; rehearsals for the Social Events started in earnest. One day, our Bn Cdr  ordered that we should practice our music items after dinner. There was the usual fall-in of the whole Course in FSMO at the Drill Square.So here we were, some ten-odd GCs practicing our music numbers in the ante-room facing the Drill Square while the entire Course was getting the attention of the Adjt. When he heard the noise of the band emanating from the ante-room, he dispersed the Course and ordered us guys to fall-in in FSMO. Ustads, carry on, in sab ka subah tak khoon nikal do were the loud instrcns. Andrews was my partner in this ex. While wheelbarrowing, he would keep dropping me out of fatigue. Ramu,   the Para ustad would shout at him loudly - Gerta hai, GC gerta hai ! Quietly, he would then tell me to exchange positions.At the end of it all, when we were broken off some time early in the morning, Andrews simply dropped into an armchair in his packs, was motionless and staring at the sky. i somehow managed to make him take off the packs and convince him to lie down and take some rest before the morning parade. That day, we (maybe some twenty) were given the treatment by the Adjt personally, assisted by ten drill ustads and the SM. On one of the i mornings following this, my room-mate Kang announced that he would not be able to make it to the morning parade and to show him as Sick In Lines ( never happened earlier). i also did not feel like attending( for the first time). Before i could decide whom to inform, Venki came down to our room and announced that he also wanted to be Sick In Lines that day. i tried telling him that the PUO, CSM and Seargent all being Sick In Lines at the same time would be asking for trouble, but he just would not listen and rushed off to his room. Kang and i decided to call his bluff. All three of us were caught and detabbed as a result, just a week or two before P.O.P. i took the detabbing in my stride but being alloted Engrs,seemed to be rather  too much.While others were bragging about their respective dining-in parties with cocktails and showing off their regimental regalia, we Sappers had a samosa-jalebi party in the M.E.S. office where we were handed over a thin blue lanyard and simple-looking cane, period.Till then, i hardly had any idea of what the Corps was all about. i had been quite impressed by the then Maj Nobel Thamburaj, when he gave a demo, but his successor, Maj Hannover did not inspire much confidence. So this was the frame of mind in which i reported to B.E.G. & Centre, Kirkee for duty, full of misgivings.From the word go, i just could not get myself interested enough in bridging, minelaying, demolitions, electric and water supply and so forth.It all seemed so dull to me compared to my expectations of Army life when i had taken the decision of joining.

Meanwhile, the old-worldly, colonial charm of Kirkee and Pune were beaconing with open arms.

I actually started enjoying affixing my signatures to any document put up to me duly rubber-stamped. I discovered that for the Sappers, the time between 0930 and 1000 hrs is sacred - Chai time. In all training programs - this time is religiously noted down and catered for. Maybe that is why they call the accompanying snacks - program. Chai would come to me from all directions and soon I became fond of asking - What's today's program? There was a severe shortage of junior officers at that time and the older ones were all holding many portfolios. Most of the senior lot was busy doing their MBAs or catching up with their pending domestic commitments. Amongst other things, I was made in-charge of the athletics team. I stayed and trained with them for some time. As it is, I had to spend most of my nights in Dighi Camp in the Duty Officer's Room. Whenever an officer was required to spend the night in Dighi Camp, the lot seemed to fall on me. Great feeling that, like being a King - receiving salutes all the time for a change, no senior around for miles.

Food tasting in the langar  became another favorite pastime especially on Rum issue days.We were actually supposed to sit through the rum-distribution followed by dinner , listening to all the prattle . Of course, the first thing these guys did when they saw a Duty Officer coming was offer him a stiff one, followed by meat curry and pappad, salad and so forth. End up by signing in the register maintained for the purpose - Write under the remarks column “Excellent " and watch the langar Commander's face light up. Throughout my career, I rarely found any langar below that standard. Stock-taking - never ending chore with elaborate inventories in triplicate. The items on ground never tallied with the ledgers. In fact, none of the written records ever tallied with the ground reality - and there was always a ready genuine & practical explanation for the lacuna. I learnt very soon to enjoy the proferred samosas, burfi and chai rather than press a point too far.When I checked the stock of the unit canteen and tried to put some existing facts on paper, I was called over to the office of the Canteen Officer and given a lecture on the "practicalities of life". Accompanied by a high tea, it did not take very long for me to see sense.

THE OBSERVER-(M-14)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-14)😎

…….contd from M-13…...

Till now, i had been talking of the Offrs Mess and brethren there.Now we come to the office part of things.

On hindsight, i guess most of you would have had similar experiences. But back then, it looked to me as if it was all due to my landing up in the Corps of Engrs. Come Monday morning, after breakfast, Saxena and I boarded the Dighi Queen (a modified one-tonner with cushioned seats) outside the Mess to proceed to Dighi Camp, where training battalions two and three were located. In the Dighi Queen, we found a motley lot of senior officers who were jovial and full of questions. It took around a half-hour to forty-five minutes to reach the place. During the conversation, it dawned that training battalion three was a new raising with only one officer - the CO. For all practical purposes, it was located along with & the same as training battalion two. Saxena and I followed the Adjutant into his office. After we were introduced to the CO, we were sent to our respective Company Commanders – Majors.  Maj Punj, to whose lot I fell, was nice and easy-going. After tea in his office, he ordered me to take a look around the unit along with the Company Subedar . I dutifully did the rounds and came back to the office in double-quick time. So fast? Yes , Sir . Well then, you can sign these Railway Warrants till the Dighi Queen arrives. Yes sir !

The Company clerk came with the warrant-book. I desperately hunted for the dotted line to be signed upon. After letting me search for a while, the Clerk told me that the place where signatures are to be appended is already rubber- stamped. Oh Yes! There it was:

Company Commander, A Coy

Training Battalion- 3

B.E.G. & Centre

Kirkee

It took me seconds to prefix a " for" and sign this document with date and initial on the round stamp.

Till my last day in service, I kept up the practice of affixing my signature on the rubber stamped space without a worry.

I must have signed around a hundred warrants that first day. At around one, we made our way to the Adjutants office and headed back to the Centre in the Dighi Queen. A quick lunch. Change into games rig and back to Dighi from four to five for games. Back in the room by six and in the bar at seven-thirty sharp.Bed-tea at around five-thirty in the morning , followed by PT or Drill .

A regimented life like a robot.

 At last came the big day for the BIG  event. We were actually going to see the big boss at close quarters and have tea with him . The three of us prepared appropriately for the occasion - from haircut to an extra shine to the leather & metal.Seated in a big hall with a rostrum in front at our stiffest attention, we jumped to our feet on hearing a long bell, followed by the words - “Gentlemen, The Commandant”. In walked Brig Gosain , wearing his maroon paratrooper cap , baton in hand - impressive! He went to the rostrum and bellowed out a warm welcome. We were gently reminded that we were extremely lucky to be considered fit to join the great Bombay Sappers. But to get confirmed as one of the Bombay Sappers, we had a long way to go yet. With that came the bombshell (for me). The boss revealed the first line on the blackboard .As always – AIM - Aim of the Corps of Engineers is to further the Commander's aim with the help our technical knowledge and skills.  Had to be something along those lines, otherwise of what use is such a Corps? I'd always kind of suspected that. I knew I could not further any Commander's aim (whatever it be) with the help of my “technical knowledge and skills “.  I seemed to have come to the wrong place and had to find a way to decently wriggle out without loss of face to anyone. I hardly paid attention to the rest of the lecture.

Back in my room, I took out an inland letter and wrote a long sentimental outburst to my erstwhile Adjutant at OTA. I explained the circs, also adding that I would be happier in the Infantry. The guy immediately wrote back and told me to hang on and not take any decision in a hurry. At the moment, there was simply no other option available for me but to continue where I was.There was the consoling thought that one could always opt out of the Army itself after five years, if the going got too bad. But then, one did not want to get kicked out ignomiously either.

So carry on Ustad! Nothing to worry so far . Will see when the time comes.

THE OBSERVER-(M-12)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-12)😎

 On 13 March,1982, a proud 2/Lt Sharath Chandar Srinivas strutted out of OTA in peak cap and Cross-belt donning his brand new uniform. Feeling on top of the world despite being quite disappointed in joining the Corps Of Engrs rather than the opted-for Infantry. Little did he know how less he knew of either Corps at that time. All that seemed to matter then was - a more colorful and impressive uniform and a down-to-earth foot-slogging soldier's life. The Infantry guys were to go straight to their units, whereas we  ( TECH ARMS ) guys had to go to our Regimental Centers first for being trained .

I had to go to BEG & Centre, Kirkee (Pune). I reached Kirkee station early in the morning , and got off the train , dressed in my number one uniform , baton in hand , all prepared for the worst - a "reception committee" . From the tales I had heard in OTA , the brand new subaltern was generally received by a senior officer disguised as a jawan and so forth.

But to my surprise, Kirkee station looked and was barren. Not a soul was there. I rang up the Centre and was informed that a one-tonner was on its way to pick me up. The one-tonner arrived in due course and took me straight to the Officers Mess. I was shown a room to park my baggage, freshen up and go for breakfast. Meanwhile two other batch mates turned up and we all went together to the Adjutant's office to submit our arrival report. We were made to wait in a waiting room while the Adjutant was informed and prepared himself for the ordeal. A bunch of three young officers from OTA landing up suddenly was apparently no big deal. Don't know about the other two, but I had dutifully informed the Adjutant my ETA at Kirkee well in advance through a DO (Demi-Official) letter.

Having heard all kinds of things - one did expect something more personal and better by way of reception. Not that there was any problem administratively - we were very comfy that way with nice rooms and batmen (nowadays known as sahayaks/buddies ) to take care of us. Eventually we were marched into the Adjutant's office, saluted him and were seated.

Adjutant - Who is the senior-most amongst you?

We kept looking at each other for a reply. These two guys (being technical ie., Engg graduate entries, were Lts (two stars), and therefore - one of them was senior-most. Me, eleventh in the Course (non-technical), consisting of about one-fifty  including the "techies" had always considered myself to be far senior to them. During all the rough & tough days on training in OTA , there seemed to be only one consoling thought - though these guys with their Engineering degrees would pass out as Lts while the rest of us mere graduates ( and some post-graduates ) would pass out as 2/ Lts  - we would be poles apart while in service. Here were three of us together , me , the junior-most . Humiliating! That was my line of thinking.

We were allotted our battalllions -

Balasubramaniam - Trg Bn -1

Ajay Saxena - Trg Bn - 2

Sharath Chandar Srinivas - Newly raised Trg Bn -3

So that was it. Trg Bn - 3 for me. Interview with the  Centre Adjutant over, we moved to the Mess.

THE OBSERVER-(M-11)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-11)😎

06 Aug 2020

BACK TO SQUARE ONE

The above words uttered by the Adjt after the morning fall-in in the Drill Square still echo in the ears accompanied by the same feeling of dread as they did years ago. That day, just before our POP, there were rumours that the ordeal our Course had been going through would  finally be over after inspcn by the Adjt. On receiving the report, the Adjt asked one cadet to fall out and pointed to a trivial flaw in his turnout as he  thundered- Back to Square One. And the immediate unspoken response in everyone's mind was - curse the idiot who has brought this upon us.

Years later, our response remains the same - find a scapegoat and put all the blame on him. Will we never grow up out of this?

Intolerance is the reason behind the current state of affairs. The atmosphere prevailing around has made inroads into our group like a pandemic. Let us recognise the ailment properly first before trying to set things right. Why are we so fixated on our opinions that we cannot even look at another's perspective without getting worked up ? And till when will we keep thinking that exiting the grp is the ultimate solution ? Why do we have to disconnect ourselves from a whole group of persons just to express our annoyance at the actions of one or two ( which are not wrong in the first place) ? What is so annoying about a fwded cartoon or an odd comment ? Have we appointed ourselves as the sole guardians of our religious and political beliefs and are these more important than everything else? The answers have already been provided by many of our members here itself. So wake up, guys , and get back to normal times. There are better things to focus upon . Opinions will always differ in a large group of mature veterans, so bloody what ?