Our schedule during the last few days in the Academy kept us well prepared, with multiple practice days assigned for the passing out parade. Every foot stamp, every hand gesture and every head tilt had to be in absolute sync, which required a tremendous effort from the Gentlemen Cadets as well as the ‘Ustaad’, who was permanently marinating in anger at the discordant cadets. It was all the more challenging for me, as I had been appointed as the ‘Battalion Under Officer’ responsible for the command of the ‘Thimayya Battalion’; one of the four battalions of the Academy during the parade.
While the rest of the Gentlemen Cadets were to march together in unison carrying their respective rifles, the command of a battalion involved leading the battalion contingent with the prestigious sword in hand. The sword symbolized honour and chivalry, and therefore, the bearer was obligated to have an iron grip. A tremendous amount of respect was attached to this position of leading the battalion with a sword in my hand, and for that opportunity, I considered myself truly blessed! With God’s grace, the countless hours of practice were made sweeter when we could finally march without a single hitch, and all of us looked forward to the day when our parents would be seated in the spectator’s gallery, cheering us on as we would march in front of Chetwode Hall.
I was particularly excited by the thought of my parents watching me lead from the front with the coveted sword shining in my hand, their eyes moistening as joy engulfed their souls. What a beautiful moment it would be; just the thought of it made me feel dizzy with excitement! But alas, Man proposes, God disposes! Fate was planning a different course for me altogether, although I am grateful to the supreme power for blessing me with the five-spoke golden star on my shoulders in the manner in which it materialized.
It all started with our juvenile minds drinking beer; an incident that will forever be etched in my memory as one which caused a series of unfortunate events that were beyond my comprehension. We were barely out of our teens, and naturally, we all indulged in some good old mischief! It was close to the passing out day, and as such, our spirits were sky-high. Therefore, a douse of old-fashioned beer further fuelled our already high spirits. As per the rules, Gentlemen Cadets in their final term were issued one bottle of beer per head; that, too, only on certain days, referred to as the ‘issue day’.
However, while the protocol was that we could drink one bottle per head, the quota of non- drinkers was largely sufficient to raise the spirits of the hardcore and not so ‘gentlemanly’ types! So, on one such ‘issue day’ just before our passing out, our group decided to unwind at the Academy swimming pool while enjoying our chilled beers. This gradually descended into a poolside party. After our quota of one bottle was down and our throats were satiated, we felt the desire to indulge in some soul therapy and longed for some music without considering the fear of facing the music! Soon enough, thanks to one of our friends who hailed from Dehradun itself, the music was arranged.
We were thoroughly enjoying our time and celebrating our last few days in the Academy before our passing out parade, which was just around the corner, when the festivities came to a screeching halt as a messenger walked in bearing the dreaded news of our Company Commander’s muster fall-in. Everyone immediately rushed to the company lines for the fall-in, except for me, since I had found the ambience of the pool too merry to leave. Much later, having abandoned the fall-in, I reached my room without an inkling of what was in store for me.
I was informed that Major Muthana, our Company Commander, was not very pleased with my absence from his fall-in. Reality struck the next morning, when I was standing outside the Company Commander’s office ready to face the music, the antipathy to our soul therapy! My heart pounded inside my chest, as I stood there gazing at the brass logo of the Academy placed on a blood red and steel grey background right outside the office. I was called in. The terror intensified with every step that I took.
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Major Muthana was seated across his glass-top table and his icy stare seemed like the lull that precedes the storm. During that time, coincidentally, Dehradun was battered with torrential rains and streaks of lightning. The sound of the booming thunder rattling the windowpanes was supplanted by the holler of the Company Commander. ‘Why were you absent from my fall-in?’, he enquired. Blame it on me or the hangover after having one too many, my smug reply was that being a battalion appointment, I did not consider it compulsory to attend the company fall-in.
Major Muthana, who was generally a calm and composed person, on hearing my reply, lost his temper and shouted, ‘Do you know who made you the Battalion Under Officer?’ In hindsight, I wish I had kept quiet, and things had not escalated to where they did. However, I instantly removed my appointment tabs that adorned my shoulders and tried handing them over to Major Muthana, saying, ‘Sir, with all due respect, I’d rather be a nobody than be somebody because of someone.’ The distressing silence made its presence known against the noise of the ticking clock.
The sound of the chair scrapping against the floor broke the silence in the room. ‘The tabs will be taken back but ceremoniously,’ Major Muthana exclaimed before leaving the room. The very next day, I was marched up on a charge sheet to the Deputy Commandant of the Academy. The Brigadier read out my charge written in black ink and asked me what I had to say in my defence. I decided to say nothing. I was informed that the offence committed by me was grave, and for my conduct, I should be withdrawn from the Academy; however, since I was to pass out in a couple of days, I was only being de-tabbed, for which I should consider myself very fortunate. I was marched out of the office of the Deputy Commandant, and even before Major Muthana could come out, I removed my tabs and tried handing them over to him. ‘Keep them as souvenirs,’ he said.
This excerpt from Major General Rajpal Punia (retd)’s ‘Rejoice in Adversity, Triumph in War: A Military Memoir’ has been published with permission from HarperCollins India.