The Brigadier and the Captain
By
Colonel Ranjit Singh, Retd
The fairy land times of the Parachute Regimental centre were a thing of the past now; the Brigade HQ was a different world and life altogether. It all boils down to the top mans personality; for any new arrival some lessons are best learnt on the first day of work.
Self preservation is an essential ingredient of survival, so whenever we had to step out of the office, it was best to take a cautionary peek through the curtains, if the Cdr is in the verandah admiring the roses in the office lawn, it is best to go to the other side of the offices from the rear of the building, why invite trouble? After all, Cdr’s don’t need a reason to pounce on you.
Why put your head in the tiger’s mouth? No one ever got a medal for that. Also, whenever you got bored and wanted to have some friendly chatter with the G3 Air and the Staff Capt’s who were on the other side of the Cdr’s office, the standard practice was to carry a file in your hand and walk briskly across his office. You never know when he may step out. The Coffee and biscuits were always good on the AQMG side.
In the HQ there were four G3’s and also all kinds of lines, time lines, deadlines, lines not to be crossed, very thin lines and of course toeing the line. We were so much on our toes all the time that we needed a new pair of toes. Cdr’s are human and as busy as they are, at times they also have nothing to do, so on one of those days Taskar and self were surprised when he stood at our office doorway and looked inside with his usual penetrative glare.
He stood there for just a few seconds, in circumstances like that it was best to pretend you had not noticed him, bury your head in a file and look awfully busy. Lucky for us that day, there were a bundle load of files on each of our tables and we were busy scrutinizing them. I am sure he definitely felt that if he did not have these hard working Capt’s the Brigade would collapse.
That is the only day in my tenure I remember him at office door for a few seconds, there had never before been any files on our tables worth talking about, that day the Head Clk had kept some old files on our tables as the BM wanted us to check which ones needed new covers or were redundant. I don’t know if it can be classified as work, but we looked busy. You know providence exists.
Another naturalism of the army is that Cdr’s always treat Capt’s a little more gently, the Maj’s a little harsher and as far the CO’s go, they had better toe the line. Brig Sabharwal had a tough reputation and no one took chances. My observation there with all the CO’s was that the Gunner CO’s always seemed to be more suave, savvy and sophisticated. More expressive in their language, the Infantry guys seemed to be on the back foot back whenever all the CO’s were with him, together, on any occasion.
The Brigade HQ had plenty of Capts; I was the only bachelor, staying in the mess. So I was easily accessible to the Cdr, BM and DQ for work at odd times. The mess waiter, Santosh would come to my room and say that the guests at flag staff house are coming at a particular time. My responsibilities were clear.
The occasions were few but you could partake of some really nice meals at the Cdr’s residence when the Cdr was a host to a small delegation. These do’s at the Flagstaff house, where the drinks, snacks and dinner were special, were nice to spend time at, except when the Cdrs gaze fell on you. Even if you had done nothing wrong that look made you sit on the edge of your seat and lose your appetite.
Mrs Sabherwal on the other hand always spoke to you in a manner and language which made you feel comfortable, relaxed and at home. It motivated you to take another helping. One wondered why Cdr’s can’t be a bit more like their wives. One instance I remember when a British VIP was leaving the Flagstaff house, I had the cars lined up and was chatting with a pretty young thing of the delegation when the Cdr came out with the VIP. I got a chilling stare which I thought that was a little unfair; I was just doing my little bit for international relations
The delegations and VIP visits were a plenty, The British Def Min, French DM, Russian delegation, Prince Charles entourage and so many others. Any dignitary visiting India would visit the Brigade. They had nothing to do with the Brigade except that geographically the Taj and we were in the same location. We were regularly tasked to look after the visit due to the military efficiency displayed during the past.
The Cdr had devised a way to ensure that every govt civil dept was roped in during coordination meetings and given adequate work during the visits, with their liability spelled out. There was a lot of passing the buck with the Civil administration during Prince Charles visit. The moment the Cdr said that Mrs Gandhi had passed a message to him, personally conveyed verbally by RK Dhawan, the administration just prostrated itself and were willing to take on everything.
For all visits, the accommodation was in 5 star hotels, which left us with only to receive the visitors at the airport and provide pilots and a military LO. The LO would drink and dine with our national guests during official time so the army’s part of the duties was not that bad. European delegations were normally jovial ones and of course had a fair number of pretty faces.
I remember many memorable instances, to quote a couple, the Russian delegation had some very old people, all in uniform with medals from their throat till their belts, their uniforms were full of braids, they seemed edgy whenever their Def min was near. The senior most Russian went forward to receive him when their Def Min arrived. He stepped out of the car looking like a survivor from the battle of Stalingrad.
The Def Min pointed to his shoes and said something, the Russian officer receiving him actually pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the Def Min’s shoes. Life in a communist country must be real tough. The second was during Prince Charles Visit, I was the asst LO. Lunch was organized in the Para Brigade Mess lawns with Mughal Sheraton catering. Everything was going well when suddenly there was a bit of flutter and commotion.
This excitement was created by an Eagle which swooped down and with superb deftness picked up a big piece of chicken from a guests plate and flew away. The senior LO came running to me and asked me, ‘What is this’, I had not invited the eagle so I replied, ‘You are the senior LO, ask the eagle’. Prince Charles Rolls Royce was a real beauty.
With everyone in Agra trying to outdo the other, Partridges for parties was a requirement to make the event exceptional; the BM would task me with this. I could take a jeep whenever for this purpose but I had to get the quantity required, needless to say that the demand was always met and importantly friends were also kept happy. Once, a very short notice was given by the Corps Cdr’s staff for a particular type of Duck, the lunch was at Sir Muttra old fort near the big pond.
The request was for a Ruddy Sheldrake, I managed to bag just one and word was passed around the table of 5 or 6 to go easy on that dish. It needn’t have been passed as very few like that duck. I sometimes felt that I was given a bit of extra freedom by the Bde staff because they thought I was close to the Flagstaff House. In fact, none knew too well than I, that, that was not true; the Cdr’s scales were absolutely evenly balanced, always.
Paratroopers are very magnanimous, full of chivalry. They would do anything for their brother officer. One day in the HQ, the BM called me and said that the COAS’s guest was coming to Agra for two days, as the guest was a foreigner the accommodation was to be booked in hotel Clarks Shiraz. I was detailed as the LO.
By AN guest’s detail’s had arrived, nationality, age, etc, etc. I was really touched by our military brotherhood as for the first time there were a lot of volunteers, even amongst the married lot to share my burden, saying that that the Bde had been unfair to me as they were always detailing me and felt that I needed some spare time also, they were willing to take on this arduous task.
Needless to say, that the guest was a young British Airways stewardess, the Chiefs daughters’ friend in London. The Brigade in its wisdom decided that I was the right person to receive the guest and make sure her stay was pleasant. The Dy Cdr’s Jeep Stn Wagon was allotted to help me perform my duty, all was on the house for two days, it was warm so there was always an ice box full of beer in the vehicle, Taj, Fort, Fathepur, Sikandra an odd lake for some photography. This was one of my more pleasant duties delegated.
There was the other side also, impromptu express duties. They jolted you, as all plans made for the holiday went into orbit. One Sunday Morning the Mess waiter came to my room at about 7 in the morning, ‘Saab, Cdr saab yaad kar rahein hain’. Sun morn, 7 AM? By then I was well versed with the Cdrs summons.
Any Capt knows, Sun or the Christmas holidays, when the Cdr calls you, better be there real fast. I put on my shorts and ran across the lawn, the Cdr was standing there with another officer, a Lt Col. A Jonga was on the ready. With all respect to the other officer he looked like he had served with my father in WWII and had come back for another stint in the Army. The Cdr was talking in a very gentle and polite way with him which meant that I should also follow suit.
That officer, when he spoke to me, other than his weather beaten looks was perfect in his language and manners and had a real old world polish. The Cdr told me to accompany him to Jaisalmer….where? Jaiselmer, Oh God? I got a real high voltage Sunday shock, but when the man giving it to you is your Cdr, it is best to smile and say no problems Sir, that is what I did. They went upstairs for a coffee and I was ordered to be back in half an hour, in field dress. Our journey started, there were no highways during those days, and the roads were awful. Somewhere ahead of Jaipur we stopped for a while, the driver told me he was feeling sleepy, so I decided to drive, I conveyed this to the Lt Col and he said, ‘Do you have a mil licence’, I said no, so that was it.
The driver was made to wash his face, and the driving resumed. This was repeated every half hour. It was about 1 AM, pitch dark between Jodhpur and Jaisalmer when the driver could not carry on any further, so we took a 2/3 hour nap break. We spread a tarpaulin on the sand and went off to sleep.
At about 3 AM I got up on hearing some clanking sounds, it was him shuffling around collecting water to shave. I had an inkling of what was coming. We were about to leave when he asked me if I had shaved, upon seeing the disbelief in my look he reminded me of Officers always doing the right thing, so me and the driver shaved.
At about 10 AM we dropped him to the ex location he was going to and headed back. These old officers of a different era were so quaint. They followed all the rules in such a sincere painful manner with proper officer like behaviour. With me driving we came back in record time.
This sudden summons was repeated many months later, the Cdr was going to Delhi as there was an AB ex and he was to take off from an airfield near Delhi. I was not involved at all, when he called me in the AN at the Flagstaff house, his car was ready, I was expecting another shock but it was a light one this time. He was leaving for Delhi and said that ‘I will drop at the DZ day after in the evening, locate me on the DZ and bring my Jonga to me’.
The Cdr was taking off from a distant airfield with the DZ being near Jodhpur. His instructions must have been important that is why he briefed me personally. I understood the crux that is come what may, I have to locate him on the DZ and get his Jonga to him. The Cdr then left for Delhi and next morning I got into the Cdrs Jonga and left for the ex loc. I had never seen a night drop involving an entire Bn Group, I could not visualize the chaos which unfolded.
With the COAS and Air Chief on the DZ, to see a joint service drop, who can take a chance? The army and the AF had marked the DZ, but since they had done it on the quiet, they had not coordinated with each other. Any career officer will tell you that if the drop does not take place where the VIP’s are sitting then there is a serious problem, the CO of the air stream has got it wrong, then perhaps he will just remain an officer and the career is gone.
You do not want the Air Chiefs sitting at the stand along with the Army Chief, enjoying a drink waiting for his glorious AF to place the soldiers in front of him and nothing of that sort happens, after all that is where the DZ is on the map. Pilots are notoriously night blind and many times the drop is not placed right.
At a lower level the army was requested to tell their pathfinders to just lie dogo after the drop and not to light the DZ as men to do that had already been placed. That would ensure that the main ac stream following the Pathfinder aircraft by about 15 mins would drop plonk in front of the starred lot.
Totally win situation for everyone. The lone Pathfinder aircraft came in the pitch dark desert and dropped the Pathfinders, the spectator’s couldn’t see much in the dark so it was presumed that the drop was a km or so in front of the stand, Jolly Good, so far as per plan. Alas, in actuality they were dropped far away somewhere, but not to worry, this was anticipated, that is why the surreptitious party hidden in the dark a few hundred yards away in front of the VIP stand was placed and they would light up the DZ, totally fool proof.
The best of planning goes awry, the problem arose when out on a limb and with no supervision, the young officer in charge of the Pathfinders who had jumped displayed a sense of sincerity, above and beyond his duty and also above his understanding of the actual plan.
They set about their business and marked the DZ where they had landed, many KM’s away, in record time. Oblivious to this, the secret party hidden on the ground lit up the DZ in front of the VIP stand, a few minutes after the PF ac flew by, thereby giving the impression that the Pathfinders had landed and done their job. The Army’s party, not to be left behind, lit up theirs.
The stream of umpteen aircraft coming in with suitable gaps must have been a really confused lot. Put yourself in the lead ac pilots cockpit, pitch darkness everywhere, his huge aircraft is zooming in at an awesome speed on to the coordinates flying a little above the sand dunes, it’s ‘Red On’.
Suddenly he is hit by a sledge hammer of the sight before him, not one but 3 DZ’s appear on the ground in front of him, KM’s apart, the entire transport ac fleet is coming in behind him; his Chief is on the ground below looking up at him. What does he do? Where do you drop? No one prepared him for this perfect recipe for a cardiac arrest. God help him. I would not like to be in his place.
The Bn was spread over three DZ’s. On the ground there was confusion galore, I left the vehicle climbed over a sand dune and after ages finally found a screaming, most harassed CO who was almost going around the bend; he had absolutely no idea where he was or where his Bn is. He tells me that the Cdr had a change in plan and had gone back to Agra, I was to return immediately. I rushed back to the Jonga, Lo behold, the vehicle was missing! An ambulance driver told me that the Chief Umpire, a Brigadier had commandeered our vehicle for the COAS as his was stuck.
I commandeered the ambulance and followed the trail into the desert to meet the Brig. The ambulance stopped near a steep dune and I walked quietly up in the dark. Imagine if I could not find the vehicle? There was a CO whose Bn was lost, there was a Commander of the airstream who was lost and led all his aircraft astray and now there was a young Capt who lost his Cdrs Jonga, what a story it would have made.
I found our Jonga, got hold of the driver and berated him, what if the Cdr had really landed? He said that the Brig did not listen and just asked him to move. From the spectator’s point of view, everything was fine, Black and White was served, countless aircraft flying overhead against a night sky, what a sight, it was a lovely drop and everything was perfect.
As far as the tactical aspect goes, the CO, till dawn, was still looking for his Bn spread over 3 DZ’s, Km’s apart. I got into our vehicle and shot back to Agra. The poor Brig umpire, with his vehicle was stuck somewhere, I don’t know how he made his way home. I had enough worries of my own; I was following my orders, that were to get back to Agra fast.
An occasion I remember in the HQ was when we had the Vice Chief and two Army Cdr’s in the HQ, Gen’s Menezes, IS Gill and Nakai. At a certain time Brig Sabherwal got up and requested Gen Inder Gill, ‘Sir, you have been a Bde Cdr here, please look after the other two Gens, I have to go, another duty calls. The US Army Chief is landing in the next hour’. So easily conveyed and so easily understood by the others.
An odd aberration is accepted with any officer. Our Cdr was magnanimous enough to overlook an odd mistake or two. There were a few odd instances, I quote just one. His open jeep had a brand new coat of bottle green paint and chrome, a shiny lovely piece.
The office was over and it was got to the HQ so that the Cdr could see it, having done so he left in his staff car. Well, this young Capt stepped out of office and found an open jeep in front of him; all it needed was a twist of the key. I told the driver to hop on behind. I zoomed off burning rubber on the Agra Cantt roads.
I presumed that the Cdr must be having lunch now and would rest subsequently. Good heavens! Out of nowhere near the Commissioners house the Cdr’s car appeared in front, he looked at me. Driving fast and desperately trying to grope for my beret on the co driver’s seat.
His look definitely conveyed that he was annoyed. For the next few days my movements within the HQ had to be planned with caution so that my path does not run across the Cdr’s, why refresh his memory. Nothing happened for a couple of days and my mind was back to a state of bliss.
A few days later he crossed me in the verandah, no smile and a serious look. He pointed with his index finger to his beret, I understood what he meant. So, he remembered but had overlooked it. Despite his strict veneer he was human after all.
