Rum, Bum and Mouthorgan and other Indian Army stories

Ray

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Cadets living area where the veterans and their families stayed in cabins that the Veterans once stayed in.


Squadron's Entrance


Peacock Bay (Naval Training Team Area)
 
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Bhadra

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“To find us, you must be good, to catch us you must be fast, but to beat us…………you must be kidding.”

"Either I will come back after hoisting the tricolor, or I will come back wrapped in it, but I will be back for sure.” – Capt. Vikram Batra, PVC

“I regret I have but one life to give for my country.” – Prem Ramchandani
 

Bhadra

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“Our flag does not fly because the wind moves it, it flies with the last breath of each soldier who died protecting it.”

“We live by chance, we love by choice, we kill by profession.” – Officers Training Academy, Chennai

“If death strikes, before I prove my blood, I swear I’ll kill death.” – Capt. Manoj Kumar Pandey PVC 1/11 Gorkha Rifles


“What is a lifetime adventure for you is a daily routine for us.” – Ladakh Leh highway sign board



“We live by chance, we love by choice, we kill by profession.” – Officers Training Academy, Chennai

“If death strikes, before I prove my blood, I swear I’ll kill death.” – Capt. Manoj Kumar Pandey PVC 1/11 Gorkha Rifles



“May God have mercy on our enemies, because we won’t.”

“If a man says he’s not afraid of dying, he’s either lying, or he’s a Gorkha.” – Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw



“It is God’s duty to forgive the enemies, but it’s our duty to convene a meeting between the two.
 

Bhadra

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May God have mercy on our enemies, because we won’t.”

“If a man says he’s not afraid of dying, he’s either lying, or he’s a Gorkha.” – Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw
 

Bhadra

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“What is a lifetime adventure for you is a daily routine for us.” – Ladakh Leh highway sign board



“We live by chance, we love by choice, we kill by profession.” – Officers Training Academy, Chennai

“If death strikes, before I prove my blood, I swear I’ll kill death.” – Capt. Manoj Kumar Pandey PVC 1/11 Gorkha Rifles



“May God have mercy on our enemies, because we won’t.”

“If a man says he’s not afraid of dying, he’s either lying, or he’s a Gorkha.” – Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw



“It is God’s duty to forgive the enemies, but it’s our duty to convene a meeting between the two.
 

Kshatriya87

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The Indian Army Soldier Who Rampaged Pakistani Posts With A Grenade Wound In His Face

http://defencenews.in/article/The-I...i-Posts-With-A-Grenade-Wound-In-His-Face-2662


The Indian Army and badassery go hand in hand. There’s no dearth of gallantry tales of war heroism when it comes to the soldiers of our soil. From the treasure chest of valour, this is the story of Piru Singh who literally ran amuck on the Pakistani soldiers during the Indo-Pak war of 1947.

Born in Rajasthan in a family where joining the military was a tradition, Piru Sigh Shekhawat enrolled in the 6 Rajputana Rifles on 20 May 1936. The Jammu And Kashmir operation of 1948 saw the Pakistani army mount a strong counter offensive on the Tithwal sector. The Indian Army suffered another setback after they were forced to vacate certain forward positions at Kishanganga. The Indian Army buckled up to hit back with Rajputana Rifles’ soldiers called upon for action. The Pakistani army held a high feature (post) that gave them an eagle eye’s view of our troops. To make any further progress, acquiring this post was a must. Sadly though, there was no other way but to run straight towards the post to launch an offensive.

The path to the post was about one metre wide with deep ravines on either side. The platoons were divided into D and C companies with Piru in lead of the D company. Unfeeling of the danger ahead, the D company launched its attack. As expected, they took heavy head on fire by a machine gun post and as many as 51 soldiers were martyred. Piru Sigh, enraged after the loss of his brothers, literally ran towards the havocking gun post with his sten gun taking down anything that came in his way. Enemy grenade splinters ripped open his clothes but he eventually took over the post silencing the machine gun. He looked back and realized that all of his companions were dead. Now he was to snatch the hill post all on his own.

He marched ahead and was soon hit by a grenade that almost tore open half his face blurring his vision. Ignoring the grueling pain, Piru hurtled on with 'Raja Ramchandra Ki Jai' as his war cry and lobbed grenades in three enemy trenches before finally taking a bullet to the head and giving the supreme sacrifice. Piru not only killed at least 10 Pakistani soldiers but also completed the mission he was assigned. The hill post now belonged to the Indian Army!

 

ezsasa

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Winning the Raja Post from Pakistan

In 1947-48, India wasn’t able to hold on to the Uri – Poonch link via the Haji Pir pass and the resultant “bulge” in the Line of Control (LOC) gave Pakistan access to the Pir Panjal Range, much to the irritation of the Indian Army. This area was also one of the major infiltration routes into the vale of Kashmir. In 1965, it was decided to capture the Haji Pir Pass and the adjoining heights to open the road to Poonch.

The Poonch – Haji Pir Road was dominated by two enemy posts called Raja and Rani. Raja Post was 1.5 kilometres to the north of our post, which was known by its number, 405. The distance between forward defences was only one kilometre. Rani Post was one kilometre further to the north west of Raja. To establish the Poonch – Uri link, it was critical to capture these two posts. After the Haji Pir Pass was captured on August 28, 1965, the focus of effort shifted to capture of Raja and Rani. The operation’s code name was “Faulad”.

In 1969, as a newly-commissioned officer, I was the post commander of 405. Having heard of the battle of Raja Post while at the National Defence Academy, I now had the chance to study the battle in detail. The 1.5 kilometre ridge connecting 405 to Raja was full of chakor (also known as the chukar partridge) and a favourite haunt of mine with my shotgun. I used to be watched with binoculars by both sides and inspired amused interest. The Cease Fire Line (CFL), as the LOC was known then, passed through the centre of the ridge marked by two trees known as Bhai-Bhai. After the 1965 war, the CFL was not very active and our moral ascendency was predominant.

One day I was shooting near Bhai-Bhai when a covey of chakor flushed out. Instinctively my shotgun went up and I got what is called a wing shooter’s dream: a classic ‘right and left shot’, ie shooting two birds (both being in the air) on the wing, one with each barrel of a double barrel shotgun. Suddenly I heard clapping and a voice said, “Nishana achha hai, Laftain sahib!” (“You are a good shot, Lieutenant, Sir!”). A Junior Commissioned Officer (JCO) of the Pakistani Army, from across the CFL, was standing there. We got talking and after routine soldier talk, I asked him, “Subedar sahib, ’65 mein Raja kyun chod diya?“. (“Why did you let go of Raja in 1965?”) He said that in 1965 he was not in this sector, but from what he had heard, his assessment was that the battle was going very well for the Pakistan Army defenders of the Raja Post. It was getting to be daylight and the attackers — the Indian Army — was pinned down 200 or 300 meters below the post, at the wire obstacles and minefields. Suddenly, everything changed and the attacker was galvanised into action and started moving up in small teams from multiple directions, disregarding the fire and casualties taking place, and closed in to destroy the bunkers. The troops at Raja, despite the best efforts of the commanders and a determined fight upto that time, collapsed psychologically.

What he’d told me were the barebones of one of the most remarkable and heroic infantry attacks in our military history. Here’s the story of how India wrested the Raja Post from Pakistan.

Most posts or defended localities in the mountains are located on dominant features, forcing an attacker to attack uphill – probably the most difficult tactical operation for the infantry. The attacker tries to overcome the disadvantages by establishing a firm base, multi-directional attacks at night, use of overwhelming direct and indirect fire, isolation by cutting off escape routes and higher ratio of manpower. However, combat is a battle of wills. Whoever is able to create the conditions to bring about the psychological collapse of the other, wins.

The 2 Sikh, (originally, 15 Ludhiana Sikhs) were raised on August 1, 1846, from the remnants of the Khalsa Army and saw action all over the British empire as part of the British Indian Army. At Independence, it was one of the most decorated units of the Indian Army. However, the unit saw no action in 1947-1948 and 1962. In 1965, led by Lieutenant Colonel NN Khanna, 2 Sikh was very eager for combat. It was initially operating in Chamb – Jaurian Sector, where it captured a number of small enemy posts between August 18 and 23. The regiment was specifically asked for by General Officer Commanding of 15 Corps, and was earmarked for Operation Faulad and ordered to move to Poonch.

As part of Operation Gibraltar, Pakistan had occupied the heights dominating the Rajouri – Poonch Road and were interfering with the traffic. It didn’t affect 2 Sikh. Apart from sending out patrols to protect the road, 2 Sikh used the Khalsa war cry from the convoy vehicles to psyche out the enemy and was safely inducted into Poonch on August 30, 1965.

Initially, 2 Sikh was tasked to capture Rani by 1000 hours, on September 3, while 3 Dogra was to capture Raja by midnight of September 2. However, the attack on Raja post on the night of September 1 did not succeed due to stiff opposition. Both the battalions marched for four hours, back to Poonch, by first light on 3 September. While taking stock at the Brigade Headquarters, it was concluded that Raja indeed was a hard nut to crack and the mood was gloomy. Lt Col Khanna put everyone out of their misery by saying, “Give it to me, sir. 2 Sikh will give you Raja.”

Khanna asked for time for reconnaissance and the attack on Raja was scheduled for the night of September 6, with 3 Dogra attacking Rani simultaneously. Simultaneity has its advantages, but it also meant division of meagre artillery support. Due to pressure from the Corp Commander, the attack was brought forward by one night, to September 5, giving 2 Sikh less time for planning and preparation. It didn’t dampen Lt Col Khanna’s conviction. He told his entire battalion, “I am sure 2 Sikh is going to capture Raja today!” (“Today” was used symbolically as the attack was actually launched after 24 hours.)

Both units again marched back five and a half hours to their assembly areas for the attack by 0930 hours on September 5.

Khanna’s 2 Sikh launched the attack from two directions: along the southern ridge connecting 405 with Raja with one company, and along the relatively gradual south-eastern slopes with two companies. The Commanding Officer’s party was in the centre to control the battle. Due to the difficult terrain, the movement from the forward assembly area to the forming up place got delayed and instead of 0400 hours, the attack commenced at 0505 hours, when dawn was just breaking.

Raja was held by a company of 4 Azad Kashmir Battalion and one platoon of Zhob militia. The post was alert and soon heavy small arms and artillery fire engaged the attackers. The company attacking along the southern spur encountered heavy fire and suffered many casualties. By default, it drifted eastwards towards the two companies to the right, but this area was also under heavy fire and casualties were mounting. At 0535 hours, all three companies of 2 Sikh were pinned down by heavy small arms and artillery firing, short of and below the Raja Post along the wire obstacles and minefields.

The attack had got stalled, the sky was brightening and combat inertia was setting in. Looking at the scenario around him, Lt Col Khanna concluded he must either rally the battalion and charge uphill, or pull back to reorganise and attack again or call off the attack. He stood up, took off his green and white jersey (issued to instructors at High Altitude Warfare School) stood on a rock and started waving it to attract attention of his troops. He also shouted the unit war cry of ‘”Jo bole so nihal, Sat Siri Akal!” and started climbing towards Raja Post.

First, a few men around him got up and started moving with him to renew the attack. Then the ones adjacent to them got up and followed suit, and so on. A chain reaction set in and very soon, 300 soldiers in small teams were climbing up towards Raja Post using fire and movement tactics. Led by Khanna, the commanding officer’s party forced the wire obstacle, ran across the minefield and attacked the first bunker lobbing grenades. Khanna was wounded in the upper arm by a splinter, but the Commanding Officer’s example had galvanised the unit. The junior leadership – young officers, JCOs and Non Commissioned Officers commanding platoons and sections – took charge and pushed ahead, against all odds. The enemy’s advance positions were pushed back and the unit closed up to the top of the Raja Post.

At this juncture, at 0550 hours, a burst of .30 Browning Machine Gun hit Lt Col Khanna and he was seriously wounded. He died while being evacuated to the Regimental Aid Post. The troops seeing their Commanding Officer fall pressed home the attack with renewed determination. For the next one hour, some of the fiercest fighting of the 1965 war took place. No quarter was asked, none was given. Soldiers fought like men possessed, the wounded continued to fight and those who died, “died hard”.

Notable was the action of Naik Chand Singh, the Javelin champion of the unit, who with his section cleared 10 enemy bunkers. Naib Subedar Darshan Sigh, a national level sprinter, known by the nickname “Anheri” (“dust storm”) did the only thing he knew how to do: he ran uphill leading his platoon and single-handedly cleared a machine gun bunker before being wounded. Space restrains me from recounting many other heroic actions of this saga.

Raja was finally captured at 0710 hours, on September 7, 1965. The body of the Pakistani platoon commander of the Zhob militia platoon was found and close to his corpse, lay the body of Sepoy Jarnail Singh. Apparently both had shot each other simultaneously. Jarnail had represented the Indian Army in basketball and was known for scoring impossible baskets. He had actually been left behind at the forward assembly despite his vehement protests because he’d entered a state of delirium and had been singing loudly. Disobeying orders, he joined the reserve company and entered the battle at 0615 hours, still singing. Suddenly, disregarding the immediate battle, Jarnail darted forward to the top of the post and engaged the Zhob militia platoon commander of Raja in what was virtually a duel. Both were killed in action, almost simultaneously.

Earlier, 3 Dogras had surprised and captured Rani Post and the Uri-Poonch link-up was completed on September 9, 1965. Lt. Col N N Khanna was awarded Maha Vir Chakra (Posthumous). The battle was aptly summed by a soldier of 2 Sikh who said, “Raja litta, raja ditta“. (“We won a Raja and we lost a Raja.”)

It always intrigued me as to what happened to bring about the dramatic change from failure looming large at 0535 hours to a stupendous success by 0710 hours, I found the answer when I went into the details. It was all due to the leadership of “the man” – Lt Col NN Khanna, MVC (P) the Commanding Officer of 2 Sikh.

http://www.newslaundry.com/2016/07/08/winning-the-raja-post-from-pakistan/
 

Indx TechStyle

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Major army operations
By Pradip R Sagar | Published: 24th December 2016 10:00 PM |
Last Updated: 24th December 2016 09:26 AM
Operation Meghdoot
With control over Siachen Glacier not clearly demarcated in the Simla Agreement, Pakistan deployed troops in the area in April 1984. India countered with Operation Meghdoot, capturing Saltoro Ridge and Bilafond La. Subedar Major Bana Singh was awarded the Param Vir Chakra for capturing Bana Post, now named after him. Siachen is the highest battlefield in the world and is under Indian control. Since 1984, India has lost 35 Army officers and 887 JCOs and jawans in Siachen.
Operation Vijay
In the summer of 1999, Pakistani soldiers seized strategic locations in Kargil. The Indian Army and Air Force launched Operation Vijay, which involved 35,000 soldiers, of whom heroes such as Anuj Nayyar, Manoj Kumar Pandey and Vikram Batra became household names.
Operation Parakram
India initiated its largest military build-up since 1971 on its border in Kashmir and Punjab in response to an attack on Parliament on December 13, 2001, by Lashkar-e-Toiba and Hizbul Mujahideen terrorists. This was the second major military standoff between India and Pakistan after the detonation of nuclear devices by both countries in 1998.
Operation Black Tornado
During 26/11, NSG commandos rappelled down from helicopters and stormed Nariman House in Mumbai. They rescued nine hostages from the building the first day. At the Taj Mahal Palace and Trident hotels, commandos rescued 300 and 250 hostages respectively. Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan and Havaldar Gajendra Singh Bisht were killed in action.
Operation Cactus
An attempted coup by rebels in the Maldives was thwarted by Indian soldiers in 1988 after the country’s President M A Gayoom requested assistance. The IAF flew in soldiers of the Parachute Regiment to Male Airport. Control of the capital was restored within hours.
Operation All Out
On December 26, 2014, India declared that it had launched Operation All Out to eliminate Bodo militants after attacks by them killed over 76 people in Assam. About 5,000 personnel from CRPF and 4,620 soldiers were sent to eliminate 80 militants, and 2,000 Sashastra Seema Bal personnel were deployed to maintain stability.
Operation Pawan
The Indian Peace Keeping Force seized Jaffna peninsula in Sri Lanka from the LTTE in 1987. Indian troops were supported by armoured vehicles and helicopter gunships. Amphibious operations were conducted against LTTE in Guru Nagar. It took two weeks to take Jaffna. It was the beginning of a three-year campaign to restore peace in Sri Lanka.
 

Shashank Sharma

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Good story
Op Vijay and the Feathered Battle Casualty


'Operation Vijay' had just started.

8 Mountain Division had been inducted in the Dras - Mushko sector. Part of the Division was still in the Valley.

The war in Kargil was crystallising and the logistic support was in its infancy. Everything was more of a rough and ready solution to universal problems. The scene was like the World War II movies; lots of beehive like activity with teeth-on-the-edge confusion. Unlike the movies, the pretty women resistance fighters were missing. The other difference was that Op Vijay soldiers shaved, had their baths and they did not eat out of mess tins with broken forks. They also did not sport faces hewn from the Rocky Mountain.

My General, the GOC 8 Mountain Division looked young [honest and no buttering!] and was as sophisticated as any Delhite could be. Providentially, he was not the nouveau riche variety that is found under every stone of Delhi, talking of their 'M'rutis' [Maruti – a popular small car] and 'Assteams' [Esteem – a bigger car] but the DPS {Delhi Public School} nose-in-the-air ones, talking of Frankfurt and Disneyland. Of course, the General did not have time to perk his nose in the air as also he was wise enough to know that was not good for his delicate nose as the air was cold, it being High Altitude and winter. He could have had got a red nose or chilblain ['chillybilly' as per the jawans]! He was determined to fight the war and not get a Wound Medal via a 'wounded' nose.

It had been a harrowing day [not only for me but for the General]. I had arrived from our Base where I was in charge of 'pushing' the non-existent supplies and equipment up to the front. I arrived when it was lunchtime.

The General was, at this critical moment, huddled in the pathetically pitched tent, masquerading as the Mess with his 'jungi' [warlike] lot, looking solemn and sombre, as any war would demand. Interestingly, their war weary looks belied the fact that till then none had the foggiest and all were probing in the dark! They looked as limp as any self respecting aspen leaf. In contrast, I was as buoyant as one could be, after half a day's helicopter 'ride' trying to organise the administrative 'tail'.

I was brought up on the bottle. A General or no General in attendance, high altitude or no high altitude, I required my high octane quota of two to three small gins. I was an old Kargil hand [something like the old India hand of the British Raj days]. I had served earlier under combat conditions in the same area where the General and his 'jungi' lot were making their abode and planning the war. So, I was more seasoned to the 'ill effects' that high altitude and Kargil can offer. The only ill effect I can remember from those days was that High Altitude bestows something that Kushwant Singh [a popular writer having no qualms about writing on intimate encounters] badly needs – a toned down libido. However, Kushwant's claim of nursing a hyperactive libido maybe residual effects of High Altitude hallucinations, but then I could be wrong! Therefore, two gins were no big deal and Kushwant 'Pecker' Singh would salute to it with no ill effect to his fantasising.

Lunch was served and the Jungi lot attacked their plates [they had no options]. The fare may have appeared on my plate too, but then my palate at the sight of the gruel could not be placated.

I stood away from the table and ordered and knocked another gin down to develop the courage that was necessary to even politely nibble at the Mess [any Officers' Mess] food. The unfortunate part was that I, as the Chairman of the Mess Committee, was technically responsible for the tripe passing off as food.

The chicken came. The General bowed his head and murmured something like the Grace said at school before a meal. I stood aloof. I was savouring the unique singularity of the Indian synthetic gin – absolutely free from such noxious and obnoxious substances like the juniper berry from which gin is supposed to be distilled.

The General dug his fork and the chicken somersaulted like an East European champion gymnast in the Olympics. A beauty 10 so to speak! It was as if all the guns from Tiger Hill and Tololing had exploded. At least that is what occurred in my heart. Quailing in my combat dress, I adopted the best defence in these types of crisis – the sheepish, asinine, dopey smile. It worked! The General melted but not as much as butter on a hot frying pan. But just about.

Dutch courage vitalised me to enquire like a steward of a second rate restaurant, 'A tough cock, sir?'

The General did not answer. He bowed his head like a pious shaven devout at Tirupati [an important temple all Indian VIPs visit regularly] and went through the murmuring ritual through clenched teeth as if he was the modern Osho [a Godman specialising in liberating the soul do what it wants including free sex]. I never knew the General to be sexy though.

'No, not really, Roy. It is as soft as a rhino's hide' said the General, all 32 showing with immense control as if I were a dentist inspecting his molar.

Curiosity got the cat. I could not but venture to query his sudden religious affliction, since he was no religious man; and, anyway I am wary of these religious blokes. I stood my ground and ventured with the maximum of déjà vu that I could muster.

'Sir, why did you say the Grace before your meal? Has the uncertainty of the War made you a trifle more dependent on God than before or have you turned a devout Christian?'

'No, not all old cove', replied the General. 'It is just that I have been taught as a child to respect those elder than me. That's why', he hissed like a lost adder in the deserts of Arizona or wherever these lost adders hiss.

Since I was older than he was, I was flattered. 'Thank you, sir, but there was no requirement; after all I am your junior in rank'. I beamed. Good old orthodox Indian upbringing. You could not fault the General for manners, both Indian and English. The bloke was sterling silver and better quality than the gold in Fort Knox. I was impressed that modernity or Delhi had not ruined the good old Indian ethos of the General, even though he was a Baywatch [he called it Body Watch] fan!

That got the General's goat.

'Who the Dickens [remember, he was from DPS and so he spoke with all these British 'uupah' class style of talk] was giving respect to you. I was only respecting the chicken. It is older than Mohanjodaro and Harrappa [ancient excavated undivided Indian towns] rolled in one, damn you!'

The silence was ominous.

I beat a hasty retreat, murmuring something about the heavy turbulence for the helicopter at this hour and safety requirements demanding that I left. The speed, with which I left, I am told, proved beyond doubt the veracity of what is known as the Venturi Effect. The silence and the vacuum were loud! There was no option. The General's mood was as hot as that of a Bofors Gun on heat!

The next day, the Mess got younger chicken and a new pressure cooker!
Good story! Although some things like 'General's' etc make it hard to read.
 

marshal panda

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Op Vijay and the Feathered Battle Casualty


'Operation Vijay' had just started.

8 Mountain Division had been inducted in the Dras - Mushko sector. Part of the Division was still in the Valley.

The war in Kargil was crystallising and the logistic support was in its infancy. Everything was more of a rough and ready solution to universal problems. The scene was like the World War II movies; lots of beehive like activity with teeth-on-the-edge confusion. Unlike the movies, the pretty women resistance fighters were missing. The other difference was that Op Vijay soldiers shaved, had their baths and they did not eat out of mess tins with broken forks. They also did not sport faces hewn from the Rocky Mountain.

My General, the GOC 8 Mountain Division looked young [honest and no buttering!] and was as sophisticated as any Delhite could be. Providentially, he was not the nouveau riche variety that is found under every stone of Delhi, talking of their 'M'rutis' [Maruti – a popular small car] and 'Assteams' [Esteem – a bigger car] but the DPS {Delhi Public School} nose-in-the-air ones, talking of Frankfurt and Disneyland. Of course, the General did not have time to perk his nose in the air as also he was wise enough to know that was not good for his delicate nose as the air was cold, it being High Altitude and winter. He could have had got a red nose or chilblain ['chillybilly' as per the jawans]! He was determined to fight the war and not get a Wound Medal via a 'wounded' nose.

It had been a harrowing day [not only for me but for the General]. I had arrived from our Base where I was in charge of 'pushing' the non-existent supplies and equipment up to the front. I arrived when it was lunchtime.

The General was, at this critical moment, huddled in the pathetically pitched tent, masquerading as the Mess with his 'jungi' [warlike] lot, looking solemn and sombre, as any war would demand. Interestingly, their war weary looks belied the fact that till then none had the foggiest and all were probing in the dark! They looked as limp as any self respecting aspen leaf. In contrast, I was as buoyant as one could be, after half a day's helicopter 'ride' trying to organise the administrative 'tail'.

I was brought up on the bottle. A General or no General in attendance, high altitude or no high altitude, I required my high octane quota of two to three small gins. I was an old Kargil hand [something like the old India hand of the British Raj days]. I had served earlier under combat conditions in the same area where the General and his 'jungi' lot were making their abode and planning the war. So, I was more seasoned to the 'ill effects' that high altitude and Kargil can offer. The only ill effect I can remember from those days was that High Altitude bestows something that Kushwant Singh [a popular writer having no qualms about writing on intimate encounters] badly needs – a toned down libido. However, Kushwant's claim of nursing a hyperactive libido maybe residual effects of High Altitude hallucinations, but then I could be wrong! Therefore, two gins were no big deal and Kushwant 'Pecker' Singh would salute to it with no ill effect to his fantasising.

Lunch was served and the Jungi lot attacked their plates [they had no options]. The fare may have appeared on my plate too, but then my palate at the sight of the gruel could not be placated.

I stood away from the table and ordered and knocked another gin down to develop the courage that was necessary to even politely nibble at the Mess [any Officers' Mess] food. The unfortunate part was that I, as the Chairman of the Mess Committee, was technically responsible for the tripe passing off as food.

The chicken came. The General bowed his head and murmured something like the Grace said at school before a meal. I stood aloof. I was savouring the unique singularity of the Indian synthetic gin – absolutely free from such noxious and obnoxious substances like the juniper berry from which gin is supposed to be distilled.

The General dug his fork and the chicken somersaulted like an East European champion gymnast in the Olympics. A beauty 10 so to speak! It was as if all the guns from Tiger Hill and Tololing had exploded. At least that is what occurred in my heart. Quailing in my combat dress, I adopted the best defence in these types of crisis – the sheepish, asinine, dopey smile. It worked! The General melted but not as much as butter on a hot frying pan. But just about.

Dutch courage vitalised me to enquire like a steward of a second rate restaurant, 'A tough cock, sir?'

The General did not answer. He bowed his head like a pious shaven devout at Tirupati [an important temple all Indian VIPs visit regularly] and went through the murmuring ritual through clenched teeth as if he was the modern Osho [a Godman specialising in liberating the soul do what it wants including free sex]. I never knew the General to be sexy though.

'No, not really, Roy. It is as soft as a rhino's hide' said the General, all 32 showing with immense control as if I were a dentist inspecting his molar.

Curiosity got the cat. I could not but venture to query his sudden religious affliction, since he was no religious man; and, anyway I am wary of these religious blokes. I stood my ground and ventured with the maximum of déjà vu that I could muster.

'Sir, why did you say the Grace before your meal? Has the uncertainty of the War made you a trifle more dependent on God than before or have you turned a devout Christian?'

'No, not all old cove', replied the General. 'It is just that I have been taught as a child to respect those elder than me. That's why', he hissed like a lost adder in the deserts of Arizona or wherever these lost adders hiss.

Since I was older than he was, I was flattered. 'Thank you, sir, but there was no requirement; after all I am your junior in rank'. I beamed. Good old orthodox Indian upbringing. You could not fault the General for manners, both Indian and English. The bloke was sterling silver and better quality than the gold in Fort Knox. I was impressed that modernity or Delhi had not ruined the good old Indian ethos of the General, even though he was a Baywatch [he called it Body Watch] fan!

That got the General's goat.

'Who the Dickens [remember, he was from DPS and so he spoke with all these British 'uupah' class style of talk] was giving respect to you. I was only respecting the chicken. It is older than Mohanjodaro and Harrappa [ancient excavated undivided Indian towns] rolled in one, damn you!'

The silence was ominous.

I beat a hasty retreat, murmuring something about the heavy turbulence for the helicopter at this hour and safety requirements demanding that I left. The speed, with which I left, I am told, proved beyond doubt the veracity of what is known as the Venturi Effect. The silence and the vacuum were loud! There was no option. The General's mood was as hot as that of a Bofors Gun on heat!

The next day, the Mess got younger chicken and a new pressure cooker!
That is what one calls, a grand father **** !
 
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