Benefit of not snitching on comrades

Brig Gurinder Singh (Retd)

This Air Force Day, the Chief of Air Staff graciously invited Hon. Capt. Faqir Singh, his drill Ustad (Instructor) at the NDA. Your parents teach you to walk but drill Ustad teaches you to march properly. It is not unusual for any officer to remember his Ustads.

 The Drill Test is the first Sword of Damocles hanging on your head as training commences. Privileges such as liberty (to go to town on Sundays) and mid-term break to go home after three months of training are subject to your passing the drill test. One may get two or three chances to pass the test before the all-important four-day mid-term break. 

Very few pass the the test in the first attempt. I didn't stand a chance and was neither surprised nor disappointed when I didn't pass it in the first effort. Two days later, when I was on a usual late night ragrra (punishment) parade called by a senior, I tripped over and dislocated my left elbow. It was already midnight so we all went back to our rooms. I assured the nervous senior that I won't name him for my injury.

The next day, I was referred to the Military Hospital and returned with a plastered arm.  My plaster was scheduled to be removed just four days before the mid-term break which meant that I was not even eligible for more chances to pass drill test. So no mid-term break for me.

Since my batch mates and few others were witness to the episode, almost everyone knew the truth. As we were taught never to blame a comrade, I kept narrating another story to anyone in the position of authority. I invariably kept quiet when asked, "Are you sure?" or "tell me the truth".  In due course, I realised that all the officers and Ustads sympathised with me for shielding my senior but no one forced me to tell the truth.  

My plaster was removed and the medical officer seemed pleased with my recovery even though I carried a Murlidharan-like 15 degree bend in my left elbow. But I was not eligible for the drill test and none was scheduled in the next four days. 

On the day everyone was set for the four-day leave, the Academy Adjutant, the legendary Maj John Taylor walked up to me, checked my elbow and involuntarily asked, "What happened?" I once again recited the same old story which I had narrated to him earlier. "Sir, I could not appear for my drill test", I murmured. He frowned and instructed a drill Ustad to conduct my test. Much amused, Havaildar Bachhittar Singh of Dogra Regiment conducted my test. With one arm swinging I hobbled from left to right struggling to maintain balance as the Ustad shouted orders. 

Anxious, I asked the Ustad if I had passed the test. He roared back "ghar Kahan hai?" From his cryptic reply, I knew I had indeed passed the Drill Square for considerations other than my proficiency. 

I often asked myself, "What would have happened if I had not broken my arm?"