大象传媒

The O.T.S Bangalore

After our travels life at the OTS seemed much more comfortable if busy and strenuous. The day started at six a.m. after chhota hazri (little breakfast 鈥� cup of tea and a biscuit) and as the camp was large we moved about on bicycles but did so in military fashion in a column using cavalry orders such as 鈥淧repare to mount! Mount!鈥�

I remember my first driving lesson being on a wide sandy plain which did seem very useful, especially since there were five of us in 15cwt truck, so no one got very long at the wheel. Lectures on military tactics dealt with warfare on the North West Frontier, where so many battles had been fought in the past against Pathans and Afghans. None of that was much use in the very different terrain of the Burmese jungle. What was useful, in fact essential, was learning Urdu, which everyone had to do with varying degrees of success. There were daily lessons with three of us to a munshi. Our munshi, Lekh Raj, was good. He was a blue eyed Northern Hindu and a scholarly man.

The OTS was just outside Bangalore Cantonment, occupied mostly by military establishments and personnel, and quite separate from the adjacent city of Bangalore. There were attractive gardens and lots of flowering trees. The more primitive side of India, however, was never very far away. Our quarters were spacious and airy, in a block shaped like a U. But in the middle of the U were a double row of toilets, with a passage between to give the 鈥渟weepers鈥� access to empty the buckets. There was no running water or drainage or lighting. One night a cadet from the next room went and sat down on the toilet, but leapt to his feet when he felt something bite him and discovered a rat hanging on to him. He had to have a course of injections and after that no one went there at night without making enough noise to send any vermin away.

Towards the end of the course I fell ill with jaundice and spent some weeks in hospital. There wasn鈥檛 any treatment, I became yellow, didn鈥檛 eat for a fortnight and couldn鈥檛 bring myself to drink anything but water. I can still remember the joy when I was sufficiently recovered to think of tackling a piece of dry toast. The only visitor I remember getting was a Catholic padre who stopped for a chat and lent me a book, which I still have. I do quite vividly remember walking from the ward (it was on the first floor) to the toilet and being surprised to find an animal, of cat-size but rat-like appearance, drinking water from the urinal. I decided to postpone my visit. I later found it was know in the local Telegu language, as a pig-rat, pandikokku, from which comes the English name of bandicoot.

Lal Qila 鈥� The Red Fort

I missed the ceremony of the Passing Out Parade but was duly commissioned along with the rest and when fit enough posted to HQ Meerut District Regiment RIASC. That was in Dehra Dun, amongst the Himalayan foothills. I travelled by train, via Delhi to report for duty at the Red Fort, built by Shah Jahan in the 17th century and the weeks I spent there were fascinating. It was real India, on the edge of Delhi, not New Delhi, with the famous Chandni Chowk, a busy crowded bazaar street nearby. In what free time I got I explored the Red Fort, with its varied collection of buildings, barracks, palaces, gardens, mosques, and shops, and gazed down from its walls to the River Yamuna.

Kakul
In November I joined a War Course at Kakul, near Abbottabad in what was then called the North-West Frontier Province. October nights in Delhi had been cold but Kakul, set on a barren slope with views of snowy peaks, was cold enough to need at fires at night. Since my work was to be in transport, there were lectures on vehicle maintenance, convoy procedure, etc, and more driving practice, this time in 3 ton lorries on mountain roads with often a sheer drop on one side. The driving instructor was called Jaswant Rai, which sounds very like 鈥淛ust one try鈥�

Many of the lectures seemed of little war-time relevance and again jungle warfare was not dealt with. In March, at the end of the course, five of us decided to spend the leave due to us in Kashmir, before joining the units to which we had been posted. We travelled by hire taxi, and it was a hair-raising journey on some very poor mountain roads. There wasn鈥檛 much other traffic, which was very fortunate as there appeared to be no rules of the road. Stopping at one village we were invited to visit the Khan, who was pleased to see us and entertain us hospitably for an hour or so.

Kashmir
Kashmir was worth the hazardous journey. We stayed on a house boat on the Dal Lake by Srinagar and used the local boats known as shikaras to get about. The scenery was superb. One day we went to the Shalimar Garden, on another day we went up to Gulmarg, on horseback, with several feet of snow on either side of the track. All the Kashmiris were very friendly, there was no hint of trouble or tension between Hindu and Muslim. It is a tragedy that such a lovely place should be experiencing such violence as it is now.

After the furlough in Kashmir I was posted to the 25th Indian Infantry Division, another train journey over a thousand miles to Southern India. The division was preparing for Burma. My unit was moving and I arrived before the main party and was the only officer with small advance party. There was a battalion of the Assam Rifles a mile away so I joined their Officers鈥� Mess. There was no vehicle available so I used to make the journey on an old bike, on a rough track between paddy fields full of noisy frogs, no lights anywhere at light. The real soldiering had now begun and as we trained in the jungles of Mysore, as preparation for Burma, there was no comfort. Sleeping in the back of the truck was the best one could hope for. Mosquito nets had to be used however hot and stuffy the weather. One morning I woke to find a scorpion had somehow crept in with me but fortunately had not stung me. Another night our sentry thought he鈥檇 heard a lorry horn but when he shone his torch saw three wild elephants. On another occasion a tiger got messed up with some night manoeuvres, and there were plenty of cheetahs and other wildlife. At times I was on detachment with my platoon, none of whom spoke English. Fortunately by then I was fluent in Urdu, got on well with the men, and was very happy to eat the same food as they did. They were mostly Jat Hindus, vegetarians, although there were a few Garhwalis, similar to Gurkhas, who enjoyed chicken and goat when they could get it.

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