bls31
February 20th, 2013, 06:46 PM
THE GENERAL’S WIFE, ME AND THE BIRD FROM THE BUSH
October 1957. I find myself trailing the convoy of the Chief of the Army Staff, Gen Thimayya, on to Manali via Yole, that I had joined at Pathankot.
My onerous task was to keep the General in touch with the world through a mobile wireless detachment. It was the high point of my service life as junior officer-a Lieutenant with just two years of service. The reputation of my Regiment back at Jlandhar and that of the Signal Corps itself rested heavy on my young shoulders.
I had the privilege to see his much faceted personality at close quarters, his compassion for a junior officer, the pretended hen- pecked husband, the obviously doting father, enjoying being the butt of jokes from the two of them. The same person changing to the steel main of a Chief of the Army Staff, the moment we arrived back at Pathankot, where he was to address the Garrison troops, the aura of the personality, so visible that I felt the impact even from afar. Seeing him now, from such a distance I felt lost, having been so to say, part of the family for a fortnight.
Although I was independent administratively, I was fortunate to be invited, rather ordered to sit at the table with the General, his gracious wife and vivacious daughter.
How I got inducted in the family merits telling.
On way to Manali the General’s caravan stopped for tea. Each one of us selects a boulder on the banks of the fast flowing River Beas to seat ourselves. Naturally I had selected the one farthest from the General’s group. Possibly that was the reason he noticed me, the only officer present who was not part of his group.
Beckoned, as I approached, he shot a question at me ‘ Are you in contact with SPUTNIK’?
Sputnik, the Russian Satellite, launched a few days earlier and beeping , as it orbited around the earth, was those days the talk of the town.
I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind ‘Sir, you provide me the frequency and I will make contact’.
Mrs. Thimayya kindly offered me a couple of sandwiches, with what I thought were Tomato fillings. A few bites later. being a vegetarian, I felt that it tasted different. Though I was not aware as to how Ham tasted I did realise that it tasted different from a tomato filling... Totally confused with the turn of events I just did not know what to do and the best course appeared to somehow gulp the lot down.
The Generals wife, being a perceptive lady, had sensed my predicament and throughout our stay at Manali she ensured that there was a dish for the vegetarian on the table.
During the stay at Manali there was not much to distract him from the holiday, my main task being to listen to the 9O’ Clock News and brief him with the gist.
One day I found myself the sole occupant of the breakfast table; the General and his entourage having left for Rohtang pass early, leaving me and the Radio detachment behind. I did fee a bit distraught though little realising the consequences of a need occurring to contact him or some mishap en route. By hind sight the consequences are not too hard to imagine, still giving me shudders.
On the return journey, we once again stopped on the banks of River Bias this time for lunch. Now it was Mrs. Thimayya’s turn to feel embarrassed; the packed lunch consisted of Roast Chicken and Potatoes. However, by now I had been fully domesticated and was quite happy to pick the Roast Potatoes gingerly from the Chicken and somehow push them down, one at a time, at the same time managing not to show my dilemma. This was the least I could do for all the consideration shown to me all these days.
This was my last and only willing encounter with non-vegetarian food. Somehow, I have managed to remain a vegetarian during the 30 years in the Army, even at times when I was with-out food for days together especially during the Sino -Indian conflict in 1962. Possibly there was no General’s wife to offer me the Khichari prepared by my Jawans to which they had added a bird from a near-by bush.
BLS31
October 1957. I find myself trailing the convoy of the Chief of the Army Staff, Gen Thimayya, on to Manali via Yole, that I had joined at Pathankot.
My onerous task was to keep the General in touch with the world through a mobile wireless detachment. It was the high point of my service life as junior officer-a Lieutenant with just two years of service. The reputation of my Regiment back at Jlandhar and that of the Signal Corps itself rested heavy on my young shoulders.
I had the privilege to see his much faceted personality at close quarters, his compassion for a junior officer, the pretended hen- pecked husband, the obviously doting father, enjoying being the butt of jokes from the two of them. The same person changing to the steel main of a Chief of the Army Staff, the moment we arrived back at Pathankot, where he was to address the Garrison troops, the aura of the personality, so visible that I felt the impact even from afar. Seeing him now, from such a distance I felt lost, having been so to say, part of the family for a fortnight.
Although I was independent administratively, I was fortunate to be invited, rather ordered to sit at the table with the General, his gracious wife and vivacious daughter.
How I got inducted in the family merits telling.
On way to Manali the General’s caravan stopped for tea. Each one of us selects a boulder on the banks of the fast flowing River Beas to seat ourselves. Naturally I had selected the one farthest from the General’s group. Possibly that was the reason he noticed me, the only officer present who was not part of his group.
Beckoned, as I approached, he shot a question at me ‘ Are you in contact with SPUTNIK’?
Sputnik, the Russian Satellite, launched a few days earlier and beeping , as it orbited around the earth, was those days the talk of the town.
I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind ‘Sir, you provide me the frequency and I will make contact’.
Mrs. Thimayya kindly offered me a couple of sandwiches, with what I thought were Tomato fillings. A few bites later. being a vegetarian, I felt that it tasted different. Though I was not aware as to how Ham tasted I did realise that it tasted different from a tomato filling... Totally confused with the turn of events I just did not know what to do and the best course appeared to somehow gulp the lot down.
The Generals wife, being a perceptive lady, had sensed my predicament and throughout our stay at Manali she ensured that there was a dish for the vegetarian on the table.
During the stay at Manali there was not much to distract him from the holiday, my main task being to listen to the 9O’ Clock News and brief him with the gist.
One day I found myself the sole occupant of the breakfast table; the General and his entourage having left for Rohtang pass early, leaving me and the Radio detachment behind. I did fee a bit distraught though little realising the consequences of a need occurring to contact him or some mishap en route. By hind sight the consequences are not too hard to imagine, still giving me shudders.
On the return journey, we once again stopped on the banks of River Bias this time for lunch. Now it was Mrs. Thimayya’s turn to feel embarrassed; the packed lunch consisted of Roast Chicken and Potatoes. However, by now I had been fully domesticated and was quite happy to pick the Roast Potatoes gingerly from the Chicken and somehow push them down, one at a time, at the same time managing not to show my dilemma. This was the least I could do for all the consideration shown to me all these days.
This was my last and only willing encounter with non-vegetarian food. Somehow, I have managed to remain a vegetarian during the 30 years in the Army, even at times when I was with-out food for days together especially during the Sino -Indian conflict in 1962. Possibly there was no General’s wife to offer me the Khichari prepared by my Jawans to which they had added a bird from a near-by bush.
BLS31