Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Indian Army - lest we forget

The Army - there is something about this profession that turns on every man. You are trained to kill, you fire guns at will and no matter where you are, most people in the country respect you. Also the amount of alcohol available for consumption at cheaper prices certainly does not hurt. Alright you can't really fire guns at will, I just wrote it because it rhymed but the point is there is so much pride and honour attached to the profession that if you have some or the other connection to the Army you try to associate yourself to it. Well I have it pretty easy - My father was an Officer in the Indian Army.

As an Army kid I have been raised in different parts of the country and as is the norm with Army kids I also used to arrogantly flaunt it around. A lot of Army kids have difficulty coming to terms with the fact that it is their parents and not them who are special and worthy of all the respect showered. Different people take different amounts of time but gradually every Army kid does get over it. Growing up in various Army cantonments with Army men all around, every Army kid has fancied himself to be an Army officer at least once in his life and even though he might have come to terms with his civilian life - the sight of the olive green rekindles in him with a thought of what could have been.

That is why the ride from Guwahati to Tawang was special. As a young officer my father was stationed in these parts in the late 1970's, early 1980's. Basically he was my age when he was there. Although grudgingly I must admit a lot more fit and a very lot more good looking. All throughout the ride whenever I see an Army installation or an Army officer pass me by, I would start imagining my Dad passing by these roads. (Although the black and white thing that happens when people do that in movies never happened. Maybe you need to look like a movie star too). In the evenings when I talked to him on the phone he'll keep telling me about how the roads were pathetic and how the place was very beautiful and I would tell him the roads have improved now. Now they are just bad but the place is as beautiful as ever. So I can just imagine how things would have been during the 1962 war.

Well for your benefit I'll try to give you an idea of the present condition of the roads. There's a place called Sappar and a place called Senge some 20 odd Kms from Sappar on the way to Tawang after you cross Bomdilla. There is a 5 - 6 odd Km stretch where roads are not yet constructed and the road is all slushy. Even in the slushy road there are 4 or 5 stretches about 100 or 200 odd metres long where your whole tyre sinks in the mud. When that happens you have no other option other than to accelerate and your bike starts swaying here and there but then you can't stop because if you do you just might get stuck. Going uphill is still ok cause no matter how much you accelerate you still move at a slow speed. Its when after you visit Tawang and you have to come back the same road that these stretches just scare the living daylights out of you. Its like white water rafting. Your bike starts moving like a raft in a rapid and you hardly have any control over your bike and the fact that you did not fall from the bike has nothing to do with your biking skills. Its just plain luck. The only thing I was trying to ensure was that the bike is on the side of the cliff and not on the side of the valley. After every such stretch I would stop my bike, smoke a cigarette to calm myself (Mom in case you are reading this - this line is just a creative liberty I take), pray to God that keep me single for the rest of my life if you want, but just make me cross these stretches safely. The moment I crossed the last stretch I was so elated that I stopped my bike, sat on the ground on the side of the road for some 10 minutes, looked in the sky and said "You know the thing about keeping me single the rest of my life was just a figure of speech. Do not take it very seriously".

Now imagine the year 1962. There is a war going on in these areas and the Chinese have captured a lot of territory. The Indian troops fighting are four days away from the nearest road. That means supplies are to be air dropped because mules have their limitations. Fuel (basically kerosene for cooking and all) is dropped in cylindrical drums and food items are airdropped via parachutes to the troops fighting over there. The terrain is hilly so a lot of these drums roll over to the Chinese side and depending on the wind, a lot of the food supplies also reach the Chinese side. For all you know if we had just poisoned the food supplies maybe a lot more Chinese casualties could have been inflicted. To make matters more interesting Chinese troops are fighting with AK - 47's and our troops fight with .303 guns wearing cotton uniforms in extreme cold conditions. Yet brave men fought valiantly and many laid down their lives to capture back these areas so that I could travel these parts 50 years later and act all cool about it. Suddenly the quotes inscribed in a lot of war memorials "When you go home, Tell them of us and say, For your tomorrow, we gave our today" start making a lot of sense.

It isn't about the patriotism. Patriotism is an overrated term that everyone from your politician to your cricketer, to your movie star, to just about anyone uses to win an argument in their favour. More than patriotism the Indian Army is about the professionalism. I love to quote this incident about Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw to anyone who cares to listen. At the time of partition the British Indian Army was split into the Indian Army and the Pakistan Army. Soldiers had a choice to either be in the Indian Army or be a part of the Pakistani Army. Sam Bahadur (as he is more lovingly known) chose to be in the Indian Army. Although technically a Field Marshal never retires but years later after he had finished active service, a journalist asked him what would have it been like had he joined the Pakistani Army. He just had his trademark witty retort "then I guess Pakistan would have won the 71 war". Not undermining his wit one bit, I also like to believe that this particular statement reeks of professionalism too. This is the kind of professionalism that sets the Army apart from a lot of other organizations in the country. Perhaps more than patriotism, what this country really needs is professionalism.

So if possible do travel to these far flung parts of the country. Most of them are such beautiful places that will just blow you away. Talk to someone who has been in the forces for quite some time, if you don't believe me. And if you happen to be traveling to Tawang do stop at the Jaswantgarh war memorial. Read the stories of the 62 battle over there. Come out and on the opposite side of the road the Army has a stall which provides free tea to all who pass by. Have a cup of tea and spare a thought for the soldiers. Not just the ones who were involved in this battle but for every man and woman who guard your borders. When you think of them never sympathize with them. Its the utmost disrespect you can ever show to a soldier. Reserve your sympathies for mediocre men because soldiers deserve better.

They are always meant to be saluted.


About Me:

A 7 month motorcycle ride that took me to every state in India, parts of Nepal and Bhutan and one town in Burma. These blog entries are inspired by this trip. Stories about people I met, stories about places I saw. Things that intrigued me, things that amused me. They say traveling changes you, they say traveling inspires you and they say a lot of other stuff. I don't know. I think a gun on the head is a better way to change people. I just hope that my travel stories entertain you

Right now I am in the process of writing a book based on this trip and figuring out the difference between a writer's block and procrastination.

You can find more information on my Facebook page and Instagram account





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