An SOS from Lakhimpur Kheri

“The day a soldier asks his dues from the king, his kingdom is lost”…. Chanakya

By Colonel Satish Singh Lalotra

A tiger doesn’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep. The ten words or so in this age old saying may look quite innocuous to a reader, but for those of us who been face to face with a similar sort of personality mirroring that of the feline (Panther Tigris) in human form would fully endorse the adage.

The armed forces of our country is one such organization which has within itself all the ingredients to come out with the best of its tenets (read leadership qualities) so deeply ingrained in its personnel.

It is these tenets which are the defining edges of its humongous edifice that distinguish it from other sundry government organizations and make them a leading light in the comity of innumerable such entities. Often there comes a time and a personality who carries the situation howsoever daunting it may seem on the strength of his sound convictions even while having an interface with his civilian counterparts.

This attempt of mine in the present write up is an effort towards defining this tenet in my commanding officer with whom I had some very intense moments while serving in the highest battlefield of the world—‘The Siachen Glacier’ and is a reminder through this paper that the country’s soldiers ought to be treated on an altogether different firmament by their civilian counterparts.

The fall of 1995 saw me getting catapulted from the lush green valleys and mountains of NE to the frigid frontiers of our northern areas i.e. Siachen Glacier as part of “OP MEGHDOOT”.

Coming straight away from the lush green valley of Mechuka in far off Arunachal Pradesh, into the white desert of Karakorum mountains was like seeing an opposite of two extremes of our vast geographical extent.

For the eyes that used to get hurt from very dark green vistas of Arunachal Pradesh, they were now getting hurt in any case from shimmering whiteness of the snow which was spread in each and every nook and cranny of Siachen Glacier.

But the armed forces are one such entity that takes care of such vagaries of topography by equipping their personnel with costly gear to ward off the elements of weather.

Having been baptized with twenty one ( 21) days of SBS ( Siachen battle school ) training I was directed to take over the duties of adjutant of the unit immediately after my capsule of action on the steep ice walls that formed part of this training.

The initial days of taking over the onerous task of an adjutant went away in a jiffy when the month of February arrived in its full glory and the famous ‘Losar’ festival which was celebrated with full gaiety and abundance heralding the so called ‘Tibetan New Year’ at the base camp with the limited number of Pinjas (Tibetan soldiers) at the unit headquarters.

The daily routine at the office of the Battalion Headquarters, the officer’s mess and the living accommodation was one such circle that was repeated to no end setting in monotony of sorts broken only by the occasional enemy artillery bombardments or warning for avalanches real or imaginary by the SASE (Snow and avalanche study establishment) detachment that was located a bit distance from our location in the base camp.

The limited number of officers at the base camp manning the unit headquarters including the adjutant (self), the second-in-command, quarter master and the CO entailed an equally limited interaction with one odd amongst us out of the area for sundry duties out of station. It was during one of those days in the month of February 1996 that an equally tangled tale unraveled in front of me.

While compiling the day’s overall operational report cum ‘Sit-rep’ (situation report) and handing it over to the old man at 6 pm sharp in his FGH (Fiber glass hut) for his onward transmission to the brigade commander I usually was stopped after the report by the boss to have a quick gulp of brandy which invariably turned into one too many.

One fine evening I found the boss in a rather somber mood after transmitting the so called ‘Sit-rep’ to his immediate senior at Partapur. I could make out that something was gnawing away at his mind.

Though it might be construed as intrusion into the privacy of an individual, I somehow broke the protocol and asked the old man if all was well with him, since he was not his usual self. He was as if looking for a cue, and let himself unburden on my effort to make him comfortable.

He asked with a straight face— Will you be able to handle the office job in cohort with the 2I/C If I am away for a few days on short casual leave? I shot back without paying much attention to maintaining the sense of discretion while replying to the old man—“Nobody is indispensible sir. You may proceed on leave without caring a lark in the base camp.”

It later on dawned on me that I had slightly been in-discretionary in my choice of words. Be that as it may, he later on told me that due to an ‘SOS’ FROM LAKHIMPUR KHERI’ via his 85 year old uncle who stays & looks after his ancestral farm land he may have to leave post haste and sort out the recurrent menace of wild tuskers who lay waste his sugar cane fields that were abutting the famous Dudhwa National Park in district Lakhimpur Kheri of UP.

Next day morning with a quick handing taking over with the second-in –command the old man helicoptered away from the base camp to Thoise air base and from there to Chandigarh.

The next seven days passed off at the base camp in a jiffy, when on the evening of the seventh day the boss trooped in his gypsy from Thoise airbase with a face lit up as if by 1000 lamps together. He called me for the usual briefing and getting the update at the unit location.

After listening to my short and crisp briefing that was over in a few minutes, the old man ordered his usual round of whiskey and slowly unwrapped his side of story that was his making in the last one week of his casual leave.

It goes like this in first person version as narrated to me –quote—‘I went to my farm at Lakhimpur kheri, met my uncle and saw the devastation that had been caused by the rogue tusker herd to the sugar cane fields to no end. I took the first available opportunity and met the DFO (District forest officer) of the forest range from where these tuskers had escaped to my farm.

Getting a non-committal response from the office of the DFO, I headed straightaway to the DC (Deputy Commissioner) office of Lakhimpur kheri. Met the officer in his office where he was already entertaining a group of aggrieved persons busy in animated discussions.

Shaking hands with him I introduced myself in so many words—‘Hello, I am colonel ‘So & So’ I have come all the way from Siachen Glacier with an urgent request to make to your good office.

The DC just nodded his head and indicated a chair to sit on and wait. Seconds passed away into minutes and minutes gave away to one hour with no sign of the DC in a mood to disengage from the previous group. The worst part was that the officer did not even ask for a cup of tea for me as a sign of civility.

At long last at my tether’s end , I got up thanked the DC with a strong caveat —‘ Well Mr DC ( Deputy Commissioner ) I had come to you with a specific request to make. But it seems you don’t have time for me.

Well I am now heading to the office of the ‘Chief Wild life /Chief Conservator of forest’s office at Lucknow with my this application and let me warn you—if these rogue elephants do not stop damaging my crops I shall be constrained to open fire with my licensed fire arm and kill those wild elephants.

Moreover you didn’t have enough courtesy to even ask for a cup of tea for me. I suppose this much is taught to you in your training days at the ‘National Academy of Administration’.

Stating this I was walking away when the DC literally begged me not to escalate the matter. Dismissing him with a wave of hand I exited from the office of the DC Lakhimpur kheri and went to Lucknow with my complaint which was acted upon with alacrity’—unquote.

The essence over here in this tangled tale is to show a modicum of respect to the serving soldiers and their innumerable problems which are put on the backburner by them often due to the exigencies of service.

In the bygone days of 1980s it was a regular feature for the probationers of civil services to visit the forward areas of the Indian army to have a first-hand look of the trials and tribulations that went along with the lives of the servicemen, so that once they were at the helm of the affairs in their respective districts they could flash back to the problems of the armed forces and accordingly take a nuanced decision as and when a case of such nature erupted before them. I am not sure if the same practice is being continued.

But I suppose with the spate of events in the recent past that have put some members of the armed forces in  direct line of confrontation with the state police as well as district administration in places like Mhow in MP and Orissa doesn’t portend well for the executive pillar of our democratic dispensation. What is the use of numerous ‘Civil-military’ conferences that take place with such fanfare and pomposity if they fail abjectly to bridge the gap between the guardians of society and that of the nation?

Finger pointing and an endless blame game between the two instruments of state power does indicate that there is an urgent need to go back to the respective training academies to ‘unlearn & relearn’ the lessons that have  lost their sheen under the time and tide of events.

Was our master tactician and author of an excellent treatise ‘Arthsasthra’/ Nitisashtra, Kautilya aka Chanakya way off the mark when he remarked –‘The day a soldier asks his dues from the king, his kingdom is lost’? Let that day of reckoning not revisit the instruments of state power when they are at loggerheads as was depicted by my ex commanding officer in this tangled tale.

(The writer is a retired army officer and a regular scribe of Rising Kashmir. He can be approached on his email—slalotra4729@gmail.com)