Perhaps the stars were a bit misaligned when I chose to change from Navy to Army in my 6th term at the National Defence Acdemy, Khadakwasla. 6th term was an eye opener where the reality of specializing into arms of choice and life in general after NDA started to hit.
A naval divisional officer in Foxtrot decided that 6th termers could not listen to music and called for all music systems to be brought to the roof of the squadron. He then threw some 26 odd music systems of individual cadets from the roof to the ground smashing all of them. Music systems in 1998-99 were not cheap. Another naval officer decided that a better way of teaching swimming to a ‘weak swimmer’ 6th termer was to pull him down into water to give him a feeling of drowning – as a way of taking out his fear of drowning. As a result, this coursemate actually died in the pool. A third naval officer decided to call us out at 1 at night for some arbid reason. It was raining. The two hours were spent trying to find frogs which had come out in the rain and squish them while rolling over them.
By then I had had enough. I applied for change of service from Navy to Army. It was almost mid term 6th term and a change of service request so close to ‘passing out’ of academy was unheard of. Admiral Arun Prakash, the then commandant, who would often meet me at the golf course, flat out refused. One day, while walking on the golf course, he told me that I’d never change to Army till he was commandant!
But fate had its own plans, a month down the line, the Admiral got posted out. An army Commandant was posted in. My application again gained momentum. Indian Military Academy, where army cadets were trained, was asked if they would accept me since I hadn’t done the required army training in NDA. It agreed – apparently, the words were – send him however he is and we’ll make an officer out of him!
As a last ditch effort to change my mind, the 5th and 6th term Naval cadets were called to the Naval Training Team by Cmdr UBS Grewal (fondly called Ud Balao Singh) along with all naval divisional officers of the academy. As we settled UBS, who had taken the change of service request personally, launched into a tirade of how useless army was and what a great service navy was. It ended with a direct call to ‘who is that cadet who wants to change to army’. This was the last thing I expected! The spot light was on me and I had no option but to stand and face the music. UBS asked me why I wanted to change over. I gave an SSB type reply – ‘want to be commando sir’ which was quickly countered by ‘commando’s are in the navy too’. Then it came to ‘I want to be on land and carry out ground operations’. UBS had a reply to that too – ‘we’ll post you to administrative branch or you can be a commando and we will post you to Kashmir’. This exchange continued and soon I was running out of reasons – to each UBS had a logical reply which couldn’t be countered. Exasperated, I finally said, ‘Sir, please see the divisional officers in the academy. One destroyed all music systems, another killed a courste mate, a third finds pleasure in making us find frogs and roll over them. They all come across as frustrated and unhappy officers. I do not want to end up like them.’ There was pin drop silence. Now UBS had to balance a fine line between motivating me and protecting the honour of the Divisional Officers who by then were divided into two lots – one whose eyes were lowered and one who were trying to summon the super power of eviscerating and vapourising me through flames that would come out of their eyes! Finding no suitable reply, UBS lost his cool and shouted, ‘You know why those army officers are happy? Because they live in places like Baramulla and Kupwara – and so compare themselves to the headman of Kupwara, while these naval officers live in Bombay, Madras and Cochin! They compare themselves to Ambani and Tata.’
By then I’d lost all pretense – it was a clash of two sardars! I retorted back, ‘But sir, at the end of the day, who is happy? The naval officer or the army officer? I want to be happy in life sir – irrespective of whether it is Kupwara or Cochin!’. I only heard, “Get out!’ That was enough for me to quickly pick up my satchel and escape! Soon I was changed from Navy to Army.
However, my troubles weren’t over. In a josh type attempt to improve my enclosure in x-country, I tripped and fell tearing a ligament in my knee. Now I had a cast on my whole leg, had not attended a single class of Army training and worse, the PT tests were yet to be held!
Oddly while limping across Trishul (the main road of NDA), Divisional Officers, who used to be very stern and aloof, would wave and smile to me. Something was definitely wrong. I was asked to report for army training in ‘whites’ while the rest of the army cadets would come in camouflage uniform! At long range, an army divisional officer who couldn’t contain his happiness informed me that the exchange between me and UBS had gone viral across the academy. My training for the rest of my time at NDA was only to stand on a side and sing songs while the rest of the academy rolled and did all sorts of physical training!
The welcome was extended to IMA! As it is my unofficial course, 105 regular, were overjoyed to see me at IMA. The very first day at academy they decided to take me for ‘Sri Lankan’ maggi – an adaptation of maggi with eggs beaten in. As we got back from maggi, we were stopped by a drill ustad who noted our names. The next day, my 2nd day at IMA, a notice was waiting for the 3rd termers and me to report to Adjutant. Even the adjutant was amused to find me in front of him on the 2nd day itself! I was ‘awarded’ 3 Extra Drills (a punishment) on my 2nd day at IMA itself! Since I still did not have my complete uniform, I was told to stand on the side and observe. Another Gentlemen Cadet (GC) who stood along with me smiled as we saw a sikh GC rolling all over the place. Amused, I asked him who this chap was and was told that he’s one of the most ‘doubtful’ GCs at IMA and had almost a 100 punishments! I was amazed! How could someone cross a 100 punishments? Little did I know that over the next 10 months, I would cross all records for punishments!
The first 6 months at IMA were easy going. I was doing well in army training! Almost a natural! Good at drill, good at academics and good at army training! Soon I was promoted to a ‘corporal’, selected for the first row of the contingent marching at the Millenium Republic Day and had been awarded a ‘Half Blue’ for Golf!
And then came two indicators of the things to come. Saha, a friend and coursemate, would fail at the 5km run along with a few others. So it was decided that some of us who were good at running would deliberately come in ‘Good’ (and not ‘Excellent’) so that we would get another chance to improve our rankings. This would give the ‘weak runners’ a chance to pass on their own steam and if they could not, then those of us who were ‘good runners’ would pull them in the second attempt making sure that they pass. The die was cast, everything was set. We cruised to a comfortable ‘good’ at the 5km run while some, expectedly, fail to pass. So we assigned a weak runner to each good runner. I had Saha with me. During the second attempt, I pulled him for the first 2 kms but soon realized that this wouldn’t be enough to get him over the line in time. So, I took his rifle and his backpack (over and above my own) and held his hand pulling him. The effort worked and we could see the finish line with time to spare. Just as we were about to cross the finish line, the Deputy Command (a gorkha officer, General Karnick) and the PT officer, who had been ‘hiding’ behind some bushes, decided to jump out and catch us. Not only did Saha fail the attempt but I was to be marched up to the General who had developed a reputation for relegating everyone who was marched up to him.
However, the date for the march up never came! Then one day on the golf course, my Battalion Commander, Colonel Kanwar, told me that he had faught to get it cancelled stating that this was the course spirit he wanted to inculcate in the cadets. Along with the pat on the back, I also got 28 days of ‘Restrictions’. No biggie, 28 days would fly bye! Plus, being a ‘Corporal’ (an appointment) I wouldn’t have to run any but would just have to report for the muster for these punishments.
As the term drew to an end, we were required to deposit all our equipment and I realized that the broken, rickety cycle that had been more of a pain than of any use was missing! I came back to third (final term) with a promotion to ‘Junior under Officer’ – and 28 days for losing the cycle! I was still happy. Still an appointment, I wouldn’t have to do any physical punishment but would need to stand at muster. Plus, 100 and that sikh GC’s record was far far away!
A couple of months down the line, as we returned from an outdoor exercise, I saw a notice for march up to Battalion Commander. There could be no other reason for Colonel Kanwar to call me other than to tie up for a round of golf. Calmly, I walked across to the Battalion Commanders office but was stopped midway by the Drill Seargent and told to change to ceremonials. Now something was wrong!
Soon I was marched in. I was a Madras officer standing there who I didn’t recognize. As I turned towards the Battalion Commander, a charge was read out – ‘Insulting Platoon Commander during outdoor training’. Bewildered, I requested permission to speak and was denied. The Battalion Commander denied. The punishment was then read out. ‘De-tabbed’ from the appointment of Junior Under Officer and 28 days restrictions’. The drill sergeant marched behind me, halted and in a flash ripped off the appointment tabs from my shoulders! Shocked, I again asked for permission to speak and this time the Battalion Commander granted it.
I asked who it was that I insulted. The Battalion Commander pointed to the Madras officer who stood there. I didn’t even know his name or who he was and told this to the Battalion Commander (BC). The BC retorted that I had insulted this officer and I replied that the officer was lying. The BC told me that the officers word carried more weight and I had to accept the consequences. I said that I’d be more than happy to if I had done something but in this case I hadn’t done anything! However, if this was to be the way of things, I would like to resign and leave the training academy. The BC asked ‘Why’? I said, ‘Sir, this officer who I do not even know, is an instructor, who has been chosen from 1000s of officers. If this is the standard of the chosen instructor then I wonder how the rest of the officers would be – and I did not want to find out’. I was marched out! In half an hour, I submitted a written resignation. Col Kanwar later called me to his home. Over banana shake he explained how leaving the academy would cost my father millions and how it would be difficult for my father to pay this amount as a retired army officer. I had walked with my father on multiple occasions to multiple banks asking for loans for the land he had bought to build his dream home. While talking to Dad that night, he told me not to worry about payments and that if I felt so strongly about leaving, I should. I withdrew my application.
My punishment tally had now been bolstered by the ‘de-tabbing’ (equivalent to 28 days restrictions) and the additional 28 days the BC had awarded! The tally had reached 112!! Records had been broken! And I was made a ‘Sergeant’ so still remained an appointment and still had not run a single punishment but needed to attend muster!
A few months down the line, as we were nearing our passing out date, a crew from Zee TV came to shoot a couple of serials as part of the TV Serial ‘Vijay Jyoti’. From a lot of GCs who had been nominated as volunteers, me and Birdy were chosen to play the lead roles. The story was about two friends who get selected for IMA at the same time, join IMA together and then become officers together. So, for part of the shoot, we were required to shoot in civil areas, wearing civil clothes and drive a motorcycle. The Zee team had a young PR girl, Aanchal, and while talking to them, I asked if she had seen Mussoorie. Since she hadn’t, I offered to take her on the motorcycle. So chivalrous ….
As we were walking around Mussoorie, we came across the IMA Adjutant. Since a girl was with me, running or hiding was not an option! I wished a Good Evening to the Adjutant and the Adjutant wished me back. He then asked if we were enjoying Mussoorie, the girl replied that we were and wishing us the best, he left! There was nothing I could do. The next morning, as we were preparing for practicing for our passing out parade, the adjutant approached our contingent. The exchange that followed was short, pointed and boomed across the drill square.
‘Sergeant Chabba! Were you in Mussoorie yesterday?’. ‘Yessir’. ‘Were you also on Restrictions punishments?’. ‘Yessir’. ‘De-striped and 28 days Restrictions’. As I was called to my Company Commander (CoCo), Major Moghe’s office in the afternoon, my tally had gone upto 168! This was the stuff that legends were made of! No one had heard of such a number that too in such a short span!
The CoCo asked me if I thought I was Sam Manekshaw! This didn’t register. Years later while reading about Sam Bahadur, I realized that Sam was de-tabbed as a JUO and later de-striped as a sergeant for going to Mussoorie. The CoCo also told me to ask my parents to pause their coming for the passing out ceremony since the number of punishments I had amassed meant that I would have to repeat 6 months. I didn’t even have those many days left as I had punishments.
Thankfully, in the last Battalion Routine Order of the term, the Battalion Commander (God bless his soul, he later passed away due to a heart attack), cancelled 80 odd restrictions of mine so that I could pass out. Some others weren’t that lucky …
