FROM A FRAYED NOTE BOOK

Nearly 4 decades ago. As a 21 plus, recently commissioned second lieutenant (2/Lt) I found myself posted to a field area in my first unit comprising Sikh troops. There was loads to be learnt - no formal syllabus - no appointed instructors - little in terms or guidelines - one was required to know just about everything - all by yesterday - multitasked to the hilt. I had no office. Most of the time was spent with the troops - training grounds, sports fields, firing ranges, cookhouses & dining halls, equipment stores, living lines. Our troops my constant companions –- interactions with the officers (all seniors) was limited to a few minutes in a day - comprising highly formal exchanges (with me mostly listening). I found the troops good mentors & guides - it was they who guided me in my daily functioning - regimental procedures & history, sikhism, spoken punjabi (adjectives included), technical gunnery, man management, logistics procedures, accounting, disciplinary procedures - I could go on for quite a while - the scope was tremendous. One was expected to swallow & digest everything in triple quick time. Besides, one was expected to strictly adhere to the unit routine without a concession. One had to display exceptional physical capacity & find time for limitless reading material of relevance. I can only understate by saying that life was tough for a youngster, both mentally & physically - and sleep was precious. All this when one was aware all the time that he was under observation and that the whole unit - superiors & subordinates alike were watching to decide whether the unit had been fortunate (or otherwise) to have you in the team.

Months passed without the sign of a Sunday, holiday or leave. One day when i felt I had built enough rapport with my immediate superior, I drew courage to bring up the subject of some leave. What followed was barely short of third degree. But to my utter amazement, the same evening I was approached by the senior Junior Commissioned Officer (senior most of the troops below officer rank) who brought up the subject of my leave. He informed me that as per traditions of the unit, I was expected to plan a week or so of my first leave visiting the villages & families of 'our' troops. One of the havildars had been 'detailed' to help me plan - he suggested that I put forth my leave request only after the visit had been planned in some detail - it was more likely to get a favourable hearing then.

I set about making my plans - which eventually included the journey, reception by a jawan (who would precede me on leave), the itinerary for visits & stays in different villages - & names, addresses, issues needing attention at each location. I was advised to carry my uniform which would prove a worthwhile asset. Without knowing it, I had set in motion briefings, discussions, presentations (& even some in-house politics). The enthusiasm with which each one of my superiors, and many subordinates participated in planning, advising & cautioning, was amazing indeed. With modifications my leave was approved. Instead of the authorised 60 days, a youngster during the first year could claim only 30, which was enhanced to 45 keeping in mind my visit to the troops' villages. Little did I realize, as I packed my bags a couple of weeks later, that the trip which was appearing to me as unjust work while “on leave”, would be a rich enough experience for me to be writing about it today – exactly two & a half decades later.

I was received as planned at the railway station by Hav DS (name concealed to protect self) & transferred to the side seat of a tractor for an hour’s journey to his village, (not to be attempted by the weak hearted) where I arrived in one rather shaken piece around 5 pm. I found myself greeted by a mob of elders, some ladies, & hordes of kids of all ages – almost all wanting to shake my hand, or wish me in whatever way was deemed appropriate. A few of our troops who were present (being home on leave) did their best to control proceedings. It took me half an hour before I could enter the house of my host – my planned residence for the next few days. Immediately I was confronted with a huge glass of milk (which could not be turned down). An audience of 8 elders (5 ex-soldiers of the unit, 2 fathers & one brother of a serving soldier) remained to give me company. Over milk I learnt that I was expected at 8 pm at the residence of Hav PS for dinner when the entire community would get an opportunity to interact. And hence after a quick change I found myself trudging through the by-lanes towards the venue made prominent by loud speakers blaring the latest Punjabi numbers – wedding style !!

Drinks & dinner lasted upto midnight wherein I first presented a gift from the unit to the widow of a deceased jawan. This was followed by my talking of the latest happenings in the unit (drafted pre departure – approved with modifications). This also included the tentative dates when their dear ones were expected to come home on leave. My programme for the next few days was announced – and dynamically modified. Democracy ruled - & the programme was retained by the gathering for finalisation & return to me next morning.

Ladies left when it suited them – some literally dragging their unwilling kids along. Anecdotes, personal intros, meetings & listening to personal problems (making notes), some sing song plus presentations of some bottles of rum comprised the evening till we reached the thalis with meat & roti. Besides the feelings of elation on my elevation to “king”, my spirits were further enhanced by the plentiful spirits imbibed during the evening.   It was an evening when I learnt the true meaning of the word “family”. Apart from being chased by a few of the village canines on the way back, the evening was uneventful thereafter. I slept like a log on the terrace.

 Next morning I was woken by a harsh sun. Getting up was always an effort for me & the hangover wasn’t helping – but the flies made it compulsory. Morning stuff in villages, at least then, was expected to be over pre-dawn, but for me makeshift arrangements were in place with bed sheets. Hav DS’s mother, a most gracious lady,  served the most delicious parathas, pickles & lassi – a breakfast one could die for – and enough to last a few days !!

A quick review of our list & we were ready for the day. We were to visit a neighbouring village followed by a trip to the local DC’s office in the afternoon – for which I was advised to wear my uniform. DS pulled out his Jawa – our mode of travel for the day. He did mention that we would need to stop for fuel and air. It was near the edge of the village that we were met by GS who offered to come along & hence our steed had three of us with a uniformed subaltern in the middle. A quick swerve to avoid an oncoming tractor, harsh brakes to avoid a child, a buffalo - - & we came to rest in knee deep slush by the road side. The urgent activity of extricating ourselves & the bike followed – both helped & laughed at by witnesses. Journey resumed shortly thereafter with a minor modification of the destination necessitated by the condition of my uniform. We now headed for the house of GS where the bike was subjected to washing, fuelling & airing. I had a bath & my uniform taken for immediate laundry service by Mrs GS. I started the proceedings of the day clad in borrowed oversized kurta & lungi (on top of uniform boots !!!).

I met the mother of JS who wanted to know why her son had not come home for so long. Grievance noted, the widow consoled & action promised – I next went to see the father of AS. A grand old ex-soldier of our unit. It was a courtesy visit to one of our stalwarts who had several suggestions for the unit. Noted – including the expression of his gratitude for the visit. A family dispute in the house of SS was taken up along with lunch. The parties had had severe differences over a plot of land, and had come to physical exchanges. Both sides heard, the villagers heard, acceptable advice given, both sides made to make up – and leave of one of the parties extended on the spot (did make me feel powerful), one ensured all round hugs & bonhomie before returning to the residence of GS to change back to uniform (by now dried to an acceptable level of moistness). We reached the DC’s office without mishaps.

In those days there was enough respect for our uniform for the DC not to be too busy, & a subaltern was attended to at the appointed time. There were 4 cases needing attention – an arms licence, a land boundary dispute, & 2 cases of documentation relating to financial assistance to widows. 3 solved, the boundary dispute held back (with promise of favourable assistance in the near future), I thanked the DC for the audience, assistance & the cup of tea. It was time to return.

More of the same followed for the next 8 days during which I shifted residence twice. The day of my departure arrived & something within me did not want to leave. Hugs, handshakes, & yes, a few tears marked the minutes before departure. I was carrying my packed lunch & tons of emotions within me. Besides, I carried memories – fresh even today as if it were yesterday.

The feedback which I prepared from my notes for our subunit ran into 39 pages, including 14 pictures taken with a hotshot camera which survived a crash. Issues needing immediate attention were written down & posted to the unit over the next two days.

I returned to the unit after another month. Details of my visit had obviously preceded me. I found a total transformation of the attitude of the troops towards me. It had never been cold or distant – but now I realized what “warmth” & “family” really meant. I had been accepted !!

Later, I did my best to find the genesis of the tradition. (& this being long already, I will not delve into the details of my quest) I reached nowhere but I have enormous respect for the vision of an elder who started the activity. I salute the man. Due to many reasons, including perhaps reduced relevance, the tradition which was on the decline even then seems to have been laid to rest. I’m fortunate to have been part of it - & for the lessons it left me with.

HRM or leadership anyone ?