WHEN THE CENTRAL VISTA WAS USED TO GROW FOODGRAINS

 

WHEN THE CENTRAL VISTA WAS USED TO GROW FOODGRAINS

By

Maj Gen VK Singh

 

While browsing through the Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi, I came across some interesting facts. In early 1946 there was a severe food shortage in India due to failure of rains. This was also the period when India was on the threshold of independence from British Rule. Lord Wavell was the Viceroy and Auchinleck the Commander in Chief. World War II had just ended and the INA trials were even them going on in the Red Fort. There had been mutinies in the Royal Indian Navy (RIN); the Royal Indian Air Force (RIAF) and the Indian Army’s Signals Training Centre at Jubbulpore. Apart from this, major developments were taking place on the political front. As can be imagined Mahatma Gandhi was fully involved in the negotiations then going on between the Cripps Mission and the two major political parties, the Congress and the Muslim League.

One point that caused Gandhi a lot of anxiety was the food shortage. He realized that all available land should be used for growing food grains. He noticed that the Aga Khan Palace, where he had spent 21 months after being jailed during the Quit India movement in 1942, had a lot of land that was laying vacant. He suggested that this should be used for growing food grains and wrote to the Aga Khan about it. On 21 February he wrote to Mr.  G.E.B.  Abell, the private secretary to the Viceroy (he often wrote to Lord Wavell directly, addressing him as Dear Friend). He wrote¹:-

                                  

Nature Cure Clinic

6, Todiwala Road,Poona                February 21, 1946

DEAR MR. ABELL,

Here are a few more suggestions to meet the food situation which have been sent to me by friends.

The Indian Army should be given this unique opportunity of doing constructive work. They can be moved about easily. They could, therefore, be sent to all such places where wells need to be dug most urgently.

Regarding additional foods, fish has been mentioned. Fish abounds in the seas around the coasts of India. The war is over; there are innumerable small and medium-sized vessels which were used for doing patrol and guard duties along our shores for the last five years. The Royal Indian Navy could arrange about staffing these with the Department of Fisheries giving all assistance. If everything and anything can be done during a war, why not a peace-time war effort? Dry fish does even now form part of the normal diet of a great number of people who are very poor—that is when it is available and they can afford to buy it.

All public gardens should immediately by law made to start growing vegetables. Squads of army personnel should be put to work here too. People requiring extra labour to transform their ground or garden should also be able to obtain free help through this channel.

The distribution of food should be through co-operative societies or similar organizations. All food parcels to friends or relatives in Britain or elsewhere abroad should be stopped as also the export of groundnuts, oils, oilcakes, etc.

All stocks of foodstuffs in the hands of the military should be released forthwith and no distinction should be made between military and civil ranks. In this connection I draw His Excellency’s attention to the following A. P. I. message published in the Amrita Bazar Patrika of February 11, 1946.

It is learnt that huge quantities of composed atta are being destroyed for the last few days by throwing them into the river Shitalaksha at Narayanganj.

The campaign against despondency and for growing more food will avail nothing, unless bribery which is going on as never before is stopped and honesty and straight dealing begin to pervade the Government ranks and the public.

Yours sincerely,

M. K. GANDHI

1. Gandhiji’s Correspondence with the Government, 1944-47, pp. 141-2; also Harijan, 17-3-1946

 

Mr. George Abell replied to Mahatma Gandhi on 26 February 1946. He wrote²:-

THE VICEROY’S HOUSE, NEW DELHI,

February 26, 1946

            DEAR MR. GANDHI,

Thank you for your letter of the 21st February making suggestions to meet the food situation. His Excellency, to whom I have shown your letter, is grateful to you for writing, and will have the various proposals examined where this has not been done already.

2.         Only a day or two ago His Excellency suggested to the Commander-in-Chief that it might be possible for the R. I. N. to assist with fishing. Recent events may make this difficult, but meanwhile His Excellency has initiated enquiries about the possibility of importing dried fish from Canada and Newfoundland, and also about the securing of suitable vessels and equipment so as to make a start with developing on modern lines the fisheries industry. Already the Army is doing a good deal in the Grow More Food campaign and is releasing machinery for digging wells, levelling ground, etc.

3.         In Delhi, a considerable part of the Central Vista is to be ploughed up and the gardens of bungalows are to be used for growing vegetables on a larger scale. The sending of food parcels to friends or relatives outside India has been ordered to be stopped and an urgent examination is being undertaken of the question of exporting groundnuts, oil-cakes, etc.

4.         Bribery and corruption is admitted to be one of the worst enemies of efficient food administration. This is also one of the most difficult to defeat. The detailed implementing of the controls is mainly in the hands of Provincial Governments, and perhaps the new Ministries may be able to achieve results in this direction.

Yours sincerely,

G. E. B. ABELL

M. K. GANDHI, ESQ.

 

2.         Gandhiji’s Correspondence with the Government, 1944-47, p. 143; also Harijan, 17-3-1946

 

            The correspondence reveals some interesting facts, which most of us may not be aware of. Mahatma Gandhi spared no efforts in making up the food shortages at that time. The British authorities also took steps to alleviate to situation. The RIN and the Indian Army were also roped in, as suggested by Gandhi. Most interesting of all, the Central Vista was also to be ploughed up and used for growing vegetables, along with the gardens of bungalows. (It is not known if this was actually done).

It is said that almost 3 million people died during the Bengal Famine in 1943. Some even blame Churchill, the then Prime Minister of Britain, for the large number of deaths. At that time all prominent leaders of the freedom struggle were in jail, after the Quit India resolution. Could the number of deaths in Bengal Famine have been reduced, if Mahatma Gandhi was not incarcerated at that time? The Viceroy then was Lord Linlithgow. Would he have been as willing to listen to Gandhi, as Wavell was in 1946?  One must remember that World War II was then at its peak. Perhaps diverting food grains to troops at that time was unavoidable, as Churchill is purported to have done.

 

Maj Gen VK Singh

06 October, 2021

 

RAISING A FAMILY

 

RAISING A FAMILY

by

Lt Col VK Singh

I had always been intrigued by the term "raising a family". How does one raise a family, I wondered? Does "raise" imply that the children are gaining height, and "rising"? Or does it simply mean increase in size, like a raise in one's salary? Now, after raising a regiment, I know exactly what it means. It is used in the same sense as applicable to crops. One "raises" a plant out of the Earth, and where there was nothing, a flower blooms. Raising a unit is a similar experience.

In July, 1982, I received a cryptic note from the MS Branch (commonly referred to as the "chit"), telling me that I had been "placed in an acceptable grade for promotion to the rank of acting Lieutenant Colonel". After the celebrations were over, the speculations began. Where would I go? To command, or on staff? To field, or peace? My wife, of course, was confident that I would be sent to a God forsaken field station, as I had many times in the past. I scoffed at the suggestion—hadn't I done three field tenures, more than my fair share? In any case, there was still a lot of time. By all accounts, my turn would not come for at least another year.

In November, I returned to the unit, after an unsuccessful bid in the Himalayan Rally- the vehicle broke down, and so did a finger in my right hand. I was all set to go on a well-earned leave, and unwind. Then, like a bolt from the blue, came the signal from Delhi. I had been posted out, and to a new raising, to boot. The fact that I was going to command a mechanised divisional signal regiment seemed to be a dubious distinction. Of course, there was no question of leave, or even joining time, and after hurried farewells, I packed my bags and boarded the train.

When I reached my destination, I found that my "command" comprised four officers, and one solitary Other Rank. I asked the officers what they had been doing till now, and they replied in unison "waiting for you, Sir". I promptly appointed one of them as my Adjutant, another as the Quartermaster, and the other two as "GD" officers—their duties included, among other things, making tea, dusting the furniture, and running errands. The OR, we decided was too precious a commodity to waste on mundane activities, and he was assigned the most important job—cooking our meals. My first day in the office was spent under the open sky, and for a chair, I had a packing case of Hercules rum, which was the only item which did not seem to be in short supply. Of course, there was no stationery, and for the first few days, "verbal orders" were the order of the day. Before I had left my previous unit, I had telephoned another officer, who had raised a signal regiment, to ask him for some tips. He advised me to get some rubber stamps made and take them along, since they would be required for indenting everything, including rations. Of course, he forgot to mention that I should carry some paper also. (So while I had the stamps, there was no paper on which to use them). Naturally, there were no vehicles, and one had to ‘foot slog' all over the place So much for the much vaunted mechanised division! On the second day, I borrowed a vehicle, and drove down to a neighbouring station, which was almost two hundred kilometres away. I borrowed a cook from one unit, a dhobi from another, a sweeper from the third, and some pencils and teleprinter rolls from the fourth one. When I returned, the others greeted us with whoops of joy; like children on a Christmas morning. Now, I thought, we were all set to set up shop. All officers chipped in with a hundred rupees each, and Luke, our enterprising QM, was sent off to buy the wherewithal to start a mess. That night, we toasted to our new mess, a cookhouse which was still under construction, requisitioned from the contractor for a bottle of rum.

Most of the correspondence was with units reluctant to despatch the men posted to us. In fact, we found the attitude of certain units downright funny, if not strange. One unit, having eleven clerks posted against an authorisation of twelve, refused to send the man till the Records had sent a replacement. Another pleaded that the OR had "domestic problems" and could we wait for two months. A third unit represented that the man was a "key person"—we found later that he was an officer's batman—and thus could not be spared. In many cases, units did not send the person nominated, but offered to send replacements, who were either "bad hats", or were locals, who wanted to go home on every weekend. Every day, we shot off about twenty or thirty letters or signals, pleading, cajoling, or requesting other units to have mercy on us, and send us the men posted to us.

When the first lot of vehicles, consisting of eight jongas, was released, I personally had to lead the convoy from the CVD to our location—we had only seven drivers, and I had to drive the eighth vehicle. Now, we were mobile, and started feeling somewhat "mechanised". When the first two radio sets arrived, we unpacked them like Sevres pottery, and caressed them lovingly, as one does a newly acquired work of art. Finally, I felt, we had started "raising".

We had been raising for barely a month, when we were told that we were going for an exercise. Where? To the desert. But I have no equipment, I pleaded. Take your two radio sets, I was told. But we were still under raising, and not supposed to be exercised for the first six months, I reasoned. You are not being exercised, I was told, but only being sent as observers, to get a feel of things. Feel, indeed. Having spent the last three years in an armoured division, I had had enough of feel. But we went, and my first assignment was that of the GOC's Rover Officer! Naturally, my assets were dished out to all and sundry—Jai Appachu got my operators, Anil Kumar my mechanics, and Madan Toteja my generators. I am not too sure if they proved of any help, or were only a hindrance, but I was glad that at least they learned something, and for this I was grateful.

When we returned from the exercise in March, we were all in high spirits. Everyone wanted to go on leave, and bring his family. In April, we got another shock. The station was granted field service concessions, and declared a non-family station. We cursed, and swore and tore our hair, but there was nothing to be done. When I went on leave, my wife said, "Didn't I tell you? I think someone doesn't like you, and that is why this has happened". I tried to reason with her that I may have tread on a number of corns, but no one's vengeance could extend to changing the status of a station from peace to field, which affected thousands of troops. As usual, she was not convinced. Anyway, we packed our belongings, and left for Lucknow, where I left my family with my parents - for the third time in eight years, as my wife reminded me. I admitted my children in the same old school and returned to my good old EPIP. By now, summer was upon us, and the tents were like ovens. Some enterprising officers managed to get a couple of desert coolers and these were put in the larger tents, which looked like school dormitories in the afternoons. But for most of the men, who were staying in 180 pounders, it was miserable, even at night. We made a few `cool rooms', in a couple of store tents but these were hardly enough for half the men. The situation was aggravated by violent sandstorms, when almost all the tents flew away. Even the store tent housing the Officers Mess came down one day, and broke the dining tables. In a neighbouring unit, an unfortunate man lost his life when the shelter under which he was working collapsed and dragged him along, blown by fierce winds. Another calamity struck when a newly constructed water tower collapsed, inundating the officers’ tents, and killing an unfortunate labourer who was sleeping under it.

In spite of such vicissitudes, life goes on. We are now nine months old, and can say we are fully raised. All officers and JCOs, and some of the men live in tents. The dining halls, messes, mandir, gurudwara, and tradesmen shops are also under canvas. But all the same, we are a Regiment. Where there was nothing, now there is a family, like a tree sprung from the Earth, throbbing with life, its branches covered with leaves, and its flowers in full bloom. Every man is conscious of the part he has played in the birth of the unit, and its growth to manhood. We have witnessed a miracle of nature - the birth of a child. Today, we have no peers we are the only one of our kind. We are, in truth, the "Founding Fathers" of THE mechanised divisional signal regiment. It has been a rare honour, and a rewarding experience - the raising of a family.

(Published in The Signalman, Jan 1984)

 

Review Article - USI Journal (Jan-Mar 2021)

 

Review Article 2

 

Watershed 1967 - India’s Forgotten Victory over China[*]

Maj Gen VK Singh (Retd)[†]

Editor’s Note

While reviewing the book by Probal Dasgupta, the writer argues that military history books which attempt to gloss over failures or less than ideal actions do a disservice as they corrupt India’s military history. He feels that this is a dangerous trend as correct lessons cannot be drawn for future applications.

 

A book titled “Watershed 1967 — India’s Forgotten Victory over China” published in 2020 is authored by Probal DasGupta, a former Army officer from the 11^th Gorkha Rifles.  The book starts with a section titled “Praise for the Book”. After reading these words of praise from some well-known people, the reader looks forward to an engrossing book on military history. The lay reader is not disappointed. Even a military historian finds the book interesting, unless he is aware of the actual occurrences. Unfortunately, the truth is not correctly portrayed in the book.

 

The Book

In the Introduction (Page 9-12) to the book, the author states that “The twin victories at Cho La and Nathu La have only been covered in fragments through articles and papers. This book, based on extensive interviews with the army men who were present at the scene, captures the events truthfully and aims to fix this blind spot in history. This was personally important to me, being a former army officer myself.” The author’s claim that the twin victories a Cho La and Nathu La have only been covered in fragments through articles and papers is not correct.  This subject has been covered in detail in Chapter 8 of Volume III of the History of the Corps of Signals.[1]  It was also uploaded on the blog http://veekay-militaryhistory.blogspot.com/2013/ in 2013. This includes extracts from the diary of 2/Lt (later Col) NC Gupta, who was then the signal officer in HQ 112 Brigade. This is the most authentic account of the Nathula skirmish, as it was written as and when the events occurred. An account of the skirmish at Nathu La is also covered in the biography of General Sagat Singh that forms part of the book Leadership in the Indian Army – Biographies of Twelve Soldiers, written in 2005. This is the earliest published account of the action.[2]

The 181-page book has eight chapters, followed by an epilogue. Chapter 1 titled Secret Games: Spies, Soldiers and the Opening Gambit has 18 pages, covering diverse subjects such as CIA plot to encourage China and Pakistan to attack India; meetings between Sheikh Abdullah and CIA operatives; Pakistani attacks in the Rann of Kutch in July 1965; Operation Gibraltar in Kashmir in August 1965; the war on the Western Front in September 1965; details of major battles such as Haji Pir, Asal Uttar, Dograi etc. There are 48 notes, mostly referring to newspaper articles in Indian and foreign journals.

Chapter 2 titled In the Shadow of the Dragon: The War Moves East has nine pages covering the Goa operation in December 1961; Pakistan’s failed attempts to obtain help from USA and China; and the cease fire between India and Pakistan on 22 September 1965. Both these chapters are irrelevant to the Nathula Operations of 1967 and have been added just as fillers. 

Chapter 3 titled Protests, Disagreements and a Temporary Truce: Advantage China has 19 pages. It covers the diplomatic exchanges between India and China after some sheep crossed over into India; the agitation outside the Chinese embassy led by Atal Behari Vajpayee, the ultimatum by China to India to vacate Nathu La and Jelep La; Sagat’s refusal to vacate Nathula; minor skirmishes in 1965; the installation of loudspeakers by the Chinese at Nathula; the marriage of Hope Cooke with Palden Thondup, the Chogyal of Sikkim; her friendship with Gen Sagat; the Tashkent agreement; and the death of Lal Bahadur Shastri. The only relevant parts are the ones concerning the ultimatum by China to India to vacate Nathula and Jelepla; Sagat’s refusal to vacate Nathula and the installation of loudspeakers by the Chinese at Nathula; and minor skirmishes in 1965. The author has acknowledged the source as the article The Skirmish at Nathula (1967).[3]

Chapter 4 titled China’s Psychological Tactics: Softening Up the Enemy Before the Storm covers the insurgency in Mizo Hills, the bombing of Aizwal by IAF, the beginning of the Naxalite movement; machinations of Hope Cooke in an effort to gain independence from India; and the stand-off at Doklam. It again has limited relevance to the operations at Nathula and Chola.  

Chapter 5 titled 1966–67: Warriors Arrive at the Watershed covers the organisation of the Indian Army into commands, corps, divisions, brigades and battalions; brief biographical sketches of some officers (KB Joshi,  Parulekar, Ram Singh Rathore) and men (Tinjong Lama, Debi Prasad) of 7/11 GR and some officers of 2 Grenadiers (Rai Singh, Bishan Singh and PS Dagar). There is no mention of the names of officers or men from 18 Rajput or 10 JAK Rifles, the two other units that played a major role in the battles at Nathula and Chola. 

Chapter 6 is titled The Tipping Point: A Tale of Spies and a Breach at the Watershed.  This is the longest chapter (20 pages) covering the arrest and deportation of two Indian diplomats in Peking in June 1967; India’s retaliation by  expelling a Chinese diplomat followed by mob attacks on the Chinese embassy in New Delhi; similar attacks on the Indian embassy in Peking; arrival of 2 Grenadiers at Nathula in August 1967; commencement of laying the wire at Nathula by 2 Grenadiers on 20 August; objection by the Chinese; visit by the Corps Commander and Gen Sagat Singh to the border on 1 Sep 1967; patrol led by Maj Bishan Singh being surrounded by Chinese leading to a scuffle; commencement of fencing using concertina coils on 5 Sep; brawl between Indian and Chinese soldiers at the fence on 7 Sep resulting in injury to the political commissar; meeting held at HQ 112 Brigade by Gen Sagat Singh during which Maj Bishan Singh was given the task of completion of  fence; allotment of additional troops from Engineers to assist him. 

Chapter 7 titled Hellfire at Nathu La is the most important chapter that covers the battle at Nathula. However, it has been assigned only nine pages. Some extracts from the chapter are given here in italics, along with comments. The opening paragraph gives details of signal communications, including the new line laid overnight from the brigade headquarters in Changgu to Sherathang where the mortars were located. All posts were connected on telephone and radio. This network was patched to the Divisional HQ.   This information has obviously been obtained from the diary of NC Gupta that is quoted in my articles as well as Chapter 8 of the History of the Corps of Signals, Volume III that is also on my blog. The author has mentioned that the book includes extracts from NC Gupta’s diary.  He writes “The suddenness of the Chinese actions had forced a bunch of soldiers, over thirty according to accounts, to instinctively make a run for their lives: some even escaping from the scene. This unpleasant chapter of the battle is often dropped from narrations, but to exclude this would undermine the heroism of the soldiers who stood and fought gallantly. Months later, court martials would be held to prosecute deserters, on charges of cowardice.”

The author only mentions that Major Bishan Singh was injured. He has totally ignored the role of 2/Lt NC Gupta in saving his life. One can only conclude that this was done deliberately, to conceal the fact of 2/Lt Attar Singh quitting his post at South Shoulder and being taken back to the post by NC Gupta, under orders of the brigade commander. 

The author also writes “Signal Officer Naveen Gupta and Second Lieutenant Attar Singh, who was among the younger officers in the unit, joined in and ran from trench to trench as he yelled at the men to keep the flock together and respond with fire. The morale had to be kept up.” This is not true. Naveen did not join Attar Singh and run with him from trench to trench. In fact, Attar Singh was at South Shoulder while Naveen was with the brigade commander until he was sent up to South Shoulder. The author adds “By then, signal communication with the platoon on South Shoulder had also been lost. On the brigade commander’s instructions, Naveen and a line repair party proceeded towards South Shoulder with a radio set for the platoon there. On arriving at the post, Naveen found the bodies of a few dead soldiers ahead of the defences. The post wore a desolate look as most men had either been killed or had left the post, barring an abandoned light machine gun (LMG). The author has twisted the facts mentioned by NC Gupta in his diary. The diary runs into almost 30 pages of handwritten notes. It is not intended to reproduce the complete diary in this article. It has been included in the History of the Corps of Signals, Volume III.[4]  

A short resume, describing the events relating to South Shoulder on 11 September as described in Gupta’s diary has recently been published in the Indian Military Review. It is reproduced below[5]

During the first day’s action, there was a loss of morale in 2 Grenadiers, when troops occupying the South Shoulder vacated their positions. This became evident after breakdown of communications. Finding no response from the post on radio and observing about a dozen troops running down the slopes of South Shoulder minus their helmets, packs and rifles, the brigade commander asked  his Signals officer, 2/Lt N.C. Gupta, to go  up to South Shoulder with a spare radio set. On reaching South Shoulder at around 10 am, Gupta found the post abandoned and informed Brigadier Bakshi, who asked him to hold the post until reinforcements reached.   About an hour later Brigadier Bakshi spotted six soldiers sitting behind a huge rock, around 100 metres down South Shoulder and asked Gupta to investigate. On reaching the spot, Gupta found that they were from 2 Grenadiers, including 2/Lt Attar Singh who was in command of the post at South Shoulder.  Their radio set had been switched off. Gupta made him speak to the Brigade Commander, who gave him a mouthful and ordered them to return to the post, accompanied by Gupta. At about 12 pm Gupta discerned some saw movement in one of the bodies lying next to the fence barely 10 metres from the Chinese bunker. Taking advantage of the fog, he went ahead to investigate. He discovered that it was a badly wounded Major Bishan Singh, ‘Tiger Nathula’, who had been injured in the initial firing. Bishan was a 6 foot tall Jat, while Gupta was a diminutive five foot three, almost half his weight. With great difficulty Gupta managed to drag Bishan into our defences and made him speak to the brigade commander. Bakshi ordered Gupta to evacuate him using the four men from 2 Grenadiers, while he stayed on with the post commander and one Havildar.

 

Chapter 8, titled The Battle of Cho La, describes the actions of 7/11 GR in the battle of Chola.[6] It is entirely based on the regimental history of the regiment.  “The Path of Glory: Exploits of the 11 Gorkha Rifles” written by Gautam Sharma and the author’s conversation with Lt Col KB Joshi. The Author has totally ignored the role of 10 JAK Rifles, which was awarded one MVC and three VrCs. The name of the brigade commander, Brig Kundan Singh has also not been mentioned. The regimental history mentions the name of the brigade commander and his conversation with Lt Col KB Joshi. It is not understood why the author has chosen to ignore his name. It now appears that the whole aim of writing the book is to eulogize the action of 7/11 GR. This would not be objectionable in case the book had been about the 7/11 GR and not given the title it has, which portrays it as a history of the full conflict.

The Epilogue covers subjects such as the war in 1971, the creation of Bangla Desh and the merger of Sikkim with India with the assistance of RAW. All these are irrelevant to the subject of the book, which is professed to cover the battles of Nathula and Chola. Interestingly, the author has written 24 pages in the Epilogue, with 78 Notes. In comparison only 9 pages have been devoted to the battle at Nathula (97-105) and 15 pages (106-120) to Chola. 

 

General Comments

The author seems to have done hardly any research, apart from snippets from books and articles and some interviews. Except for the regimental history of his own Regiment, the 11^th Gorkha Rifles, he has not consulted the regimental histories of The Grenadiers, The Rajput Regiment and The Jammu & Kashmir Rifles. He has made no attempt to go through the war diaries of the units or the formation HQ. This being his first book he can perhaps be excused for gaffes such as using incorrect ranks, names, and decorations. In the book, Ranjit Singh Dayal, the captor of Haji Pir is called Rajinder Singh Dayal; Gen Shiv Charan Singh, GOC 27 Division is called Ramcharan Singh. Brig MMS Bakshi is said to have been awarded a VrC in 1965, whereas he got an MVC. He also has a disconcerting habit of giving names without mentioning the rank. For instance, he mentions Kul Bhushan, Parulekar, Tinjong Lama, Debi Prasad etc. without their ranks. Kulbhushan is sometimes referred to as KB. His full name with rank Lt Col KB Joshi or Kul Bhushan Joshi is rarely mentioned. Since the battalion has another KB (Krishna Bahadur), this sometimes leaves the reader confused. Using names without ranks may be the norm in articles and stories; it is almost never done in a book on military history.

As already mentioned in Chapter 8 - The Battle of Cho La, the Author has totally ignored the role of 10 JAK RIF and its CO, Lt Col Mahatam Singh, MVC. In addition to the MVC for the CO, the battalion was awarded three VrCs. This is an unacceptable lapse and amounts to an insult to the unit.

The most conspicuous feature of the book is the distortion of facts relating to 2 Grenadiers. The only authentic version of the battle is the diary of 2/Lt (later Brigadier) NC Gupta, which gives a day-by-day account of the occurrences from 11-14 September 1967.  Its authenticity cannot be questioned because it was written daily as the events occurred, and not in hindsight. The original handwritten pages with the Brigade Commander’s signature on the first page is held in HQ 112 Mountain Brigade.  This clearly brings out the instances of cowardice, especially the vacation of South Shoulder at a critical juncture.

In military histories —and the reviewer has noticed this trend increasing in the period after Independence — successes are magnified but failures are glossed over. As result, one gets the true picture only after studying the after action reports of formations of which they formed part and in accounts written by those who participated in the operations. In most cases war diaries are written after an event, and not as and when they occur. This leads to a disturbing trend – the falsification of military records by units; often in the name of the unit’s izzat (honour). This is indeed a serious matter and needs urgent attention from those concerned with our military heritage and history. It also makes it imperative that military historians research their subject without bias, rancour or a desire to write pulp fiction which can become the basis for a war film.

 [*] Watershed 1967 - India’s Forgotten Victory over China, Probal DasGupta (New Delhi, Juggernaut Books, 2020). 274 pp, Rs 599/-, ISBN- 9789353450939.

[†] Major General VK Singh was commissioned in the Corps of Signals is 1965 and retired after 37 years of Service. A prolific writer on military history, biographies, intelligence and national security issues, he has written numerous articles and has authored six books. 

Endnotes

[1] Major General VK Singh. History of the Corps of Signals, Volume III: Covering the First 25 Years of the Post –Independence History of the Corps from 1947 to 1972, (KW Publishers, New Delhi 2014), pp 330-337.

[2] Major General VK Singh. Leadership in the Indian Army –Biographies of Twelve Soldiers, (Sage, New Delhi, 2005), pp 308-312

[3] Major General VK Singh.  The Skirmish at Nathula (1967), (Scholar Warrior, Autumn 2014).

[4] Major General VK Singh. History of the Corps of Signals, Volume III. Op cit.

[5] Maj Gen VK Singh. The Skirmish at Nathula (1967), (IMR August 2018).

[6] Lt. Col. Gautam Sharma, Path of Glory – Exploits of the 11^th Gorkha Rifles, (Allied Publishers, Delhi, 1988).

 

 

 

 

(Published in the USI Journal, Jan-Mar 2021)

HOW THE ADSO BECAME THE DSO

 

HOW THE ADSO BECAME THE DSO

By
Maj Gen VK Singh

 

The article titled FOR DSOs ONLY (ADSOs in the days gone by) was published in the Signalman in Oct 1972. Recently, I circulated the article in various WhatsApp groups comprising veterans from Signals. This generated a lot of interest and several veterans shared their experiences as ADSOs. I think it is time to share some bits of history about how and why the ADSO became the DSO. It may come as a surprise to many that the person responsible for the change in the designation of this appointment was an Infantry officer – Major General IS Gill. 

 

After the YOs course, I was posted to 17 Mountain Divisional Signal Regiment in November 1965. I served in the unit up to July 1968 when I proceeded to CME for the SODE course. When I joined the unit, the Divisional HQ was located at MS 9 on the Gangtok – Nathula Road. Shortly afterwards it moved down to Gangtok. The GOC was Maj Gen Sagat Singh. After the skirmishes at Nathula and Chola in Sep-Oct 1967, the HQ was moved up to Kyangnosla or MS 17. Unlike the barracks at Gangtok, here we had make do with tin sheds. This was shade better than MS 9 where everyone was in tents except the signal centre and the officers’ mess. Of course, there were no bukharies in the tents and neither was there any snow clothing. By this time, Maj Gen IS Gill had taken over as the GOC. In February 1968 I was sent on the PWO course along with NC Gupta, who had played a stellar role in the Nathula operations. On my return from the course in May 1968, I was assigned the duties of DSO.

 

One day, at about 2200 hrs I got a call from the exchange informing me that the GOC wanted to talk to me. I was surprised and wondered why the GOC wanted to talk to me, instead of the CO or the 2ic. Anyway, I asked the exchange to put me through. When Gen Gill came on the line he asked “Are you the duty signal officer?” After I replied in the affirmative, he asked me my name. I told him that I was Captain VK Singh. He then said that he wanted a call to Delhi. I said “Certainly Sir. Please tell me the number”. He replied, “Don’t worry, Son, I will book the call with the exchange. I only wanted your permission, since it is a private call.” I was literally flabbergasted.   

 

Of course, the call was put through after some time. Next morning, I informed the OC 1 company who in turn informed the CO. I was told that the GOC was only adhering to the orders that private calls should not be booked on Miltrunks, except in an emergency. This was the first time I had heard of the GOC of a division taking permission for booking a trunk call. I also wondered why he called me instead of the ADSO. The mystery was solved many years later, when I began writing Volume III of the Corps History, covering the period 1947 -1972. Volume II covering the period 1939-1947 was published in 2006. The task of writing the next volume was assigned to me only after a year or so and work began on Volume III only in 2008.

 

Apart from operations, the history of various units was also covered in brief. I requested inputs from the large number of serving as well as retired officers who had served during the period 1947-72. I am giving below an extract from Chapter 9 of the Corps History.

 

Extract

 

Lieutenant Colonel M. Sathesan, who served in 1 Army HQ Signal Regiment from 1969 to 1971, relates an interesting incident, which was probably responsible for the redesignation of the appointments of Assistant Duty Signal Officer (ADSO) and Duty Signal officer (DSO). He writes: -

Sometime in late 1969 while I was carrying out the duties of Duty Signal Officer (now Officer-in-Charge Signal Centre) of INDARMY Signal Centre I got a ring at about 10 PM from Maj Gen IS Gill then General Officer Commanding 17 Mountain Division and on leave at Delhi. He asked me for some information about certain office numbers and I replied that I shall check up and ring him back. He rang me again at 1030 PM and at 11 PM asking for additional info and I had to, on each occasion reply that “I would check up and let you know”. When I gave him the final information at about 1115 PM he asked me whether I was in the office or at home. When I told him that I was at home he wanted to know why the Duty Signal Officer was not on duty. I replied that the term Duty Signal Officer is a misnomer and it is the Assistant Duty Signal Officer who remains on duty in shifts all the time. Gen Gill accepted my explanation at that time but next day wrote a note to his friend Maj Gen EG Pettengell (then Deputy SO-in-C) asking why we have a name, that is Duty Signal Officer, which is a misnomer. In pursuance of his note the Signals Directorate asked all concerned for their views for a more suitable name for Duty Signal Officer. Through Commandant Army HQ Signals I had recommended that the only suitable name was OIC (Signal Centre).

I do not know if others also recommended the same name. Later vide AO 81/72 the name of the Duty Signal Officer was changed to OIC Signal Centre and that of Assistant Duty Signal Officer to Duty Signal Officer.

 

After reading the above write up, the reason for the call from Maj Gen Gill to me in 1968 became clear. He had naturally assumed that the duty signal officer is the one who remains on duty in the signal centre. In way, his observation was based on logical reasoning and ultimately resulted in the change in designation of the ADSO to DSO.

GAME OF THE NAME

 

                                  GAME OF THE NAME

                                                                 Brig VK Singh

What's in a name? After all, it is just a name, isn't it? A rose, called by any other name, would smell just the same. I was once thrown by a horse, with the misleading name of Grace, and had to spend a month in hospital. On the other hand, I have a dog called Captain Cook-he has a black eye patch-who is a thorough gentleman. Yet, names are important to human beings. Film stars have to change their names, if the ones given to them by their parents are not glamourous enough. Fortunately, we are not very particular about names in the military profession. Of course, it helps if you have one that can be hummed, or sung, like a ditty, as I discovered on joining the NDA.

I know several people who have names which are a mouthful, which have to be repeated three or four times during introductions. Some have names which are prone to distortion, or manipulation, causing no end of embarrassment to the owner, who can't do much about it, except wonder at his parents' sanity. When I was at school, I often felt sorry for my friends, like Screw Walla, Kala and Futehally, whose names were twisted out of shape, by all and sundry. I thanked my stars that I did not have to suffer like them. Singh was a common enough surname, and the initials VK were almost innocuous. My first name, Vinay, was not very common, and unlikely to be duplicated. It was not very long, and I did not have to repeat it, like some of my friends with five syllable monstrosities, such as Nellekkapilvil Kaluparambil Balakrishnan. It saved time, while filling forms. Best of all, it could not be mutilated or amputated, as happened with Randhwa and Garewal, who always became Randy and Gary.

The first signs of trouble came in 1972, when I was posted at the MOTE. One day, I met Lt Col KPG Kurup, who was doing the SO course, I think. In 1967-68, he and I had served together, at Gangtok and later at Kyangnosala. He was the Second in

Command, and I the Adjutant, and we shared the same office. So when I saw him, I went up to him and wished him a good evening.

“How are you, VK,” he said, pumping my hand. “And how was  your tenure at the NDA?”

“NDA, Sir?” I replied.  “I was never posted at the NDA.”

“But how can that be. About two years ago, I myself got you posted there.”

“Must be someone else, Sir.” I said.

And that was that. Or so I thought. When I discussed the incident with my cronies, I discovered that I did have a namesake, who was even then, posted as a Divisional officer at the NDA.

Over the years, Vijay and I came to know each other well, of course, we were  different, but the similarities were confined not only to our names. We both came from Lucknow, where his parents lived on Butler Road, while mine were in Butler Palace Colony. We had different IC numbers (thank God for that), but were both of the same seniority (1965). What is worse, we seemed to be following each other, on courses and postings.

In November 1975, I took the Staff college entrance examination. After a few months, when the results were announced, someone telephoned from Delhi to congratulate me. I asked him to confirm if it was I, or the other VK, who had passed. After some time, he rang up again, and told me that the IC number tallied with mine. It was only than that I could start celebrating.  After the staff course, I was posted as DAA & QMG of a brigade, whose HQ was located in J & K. Vijay did the staff course two years later, and was also posted as DAA & QMG of a brigade. Guess where it was located? At same station! While he was doing the

course, many of his letters were redirected to me, from Wellington. The situation was remedied only after he told everyone to start writing his locker number, which differed from mine.

After my tenure in J & K, I was posted to an Armoured Division. Vijay was in another Armoured Division. There was little cause for worry, as the two Divisions were located at different stations seven hundred kilometers apart. However, when we went for an exercise, the situation changed. We were both doing the same job in our units, ie OC I Company. Often, he would get my calls, and I would get his. One day, the SO2 (Sigs) at Corps HQ rang up for some important information. Since I did not have it readily available, he said he would call back after an hour, if he did not get it by then. After an hour, the call came, but to the other VK. There were some hot words exchanged, before the matter was cleared up.

Naturally, we were screened for promotion to Lt Col together, in 1982. Fortunately, both were approved. Fortunately, we were sent to different sectors to command our units. He went to 19 Infantry Division, while I was sent to 33 Mechanised Division. After finishing our tenures both of us were posted to Delhi, at the same time. In fact, we took over our houses in Arjun Vihar on the same day. Vijay was in 359, while I too was in 359. Both were third floor flats in adjoining blocks, 27 and 28!

The problem started with the bus, which we used for commuting to office. When I sent a cheque for paying the subscription, I was told that it has been already paid.  Next month, when Vijay sent his, he was told that he had not paid for the previous month. As it turned out, his cheque had been credited to my account. After about a year, Vijay asked me casually if I had ever checked my rent bills. I shook my head. He smiled, and asked me to do so. When I did, I got a shock. I had been paying rent, electricity and other charges  not  only for  my  house,  but also for

his! Next morning, when I told him. he laughed.  He   had  not   been  getting his rent

bills and had gone to the CAO to find out the reason, where he discovered the mistake. Next day, we went to the CAO, and sorted it out. I got a hefty refund, while Vijay had to pay a years arrears of rent.

One day, the bell rang. When I opened the door, I found a young man at the door. He introduced himself as Captain Singh, so I invited him to come in, and sit down. I offered him a cup of tea, and we began to talk. After some time, he asked me when Col VK Singh was likely to come home. I was surprised, and told him that I was already at home. Now it was his turn to be surprised. He was Vijay's younger brother, and having seen the name plate on the door, presumed that it was Vijay's house. I sent him to the right address, after telephoning Vijay.

Vijay retired from service in 1991, and was re-employed in the United Services Institution. In 1993. he was awarded the VSM. At that time, I was posted at Jodhpur. I must have received dozens of letters, congratulating me for the award. I had to redirect them to Vijay, after sending a polite reply to the senders, thanking them for their sentiments, just the same. However, this was not the last I heard of the VSM. In February 1996, I had gone to Jabalpur, to attend the Corps Reunion. When I entered the Corps Museum, I found my name, along with my IC number, on the board, showing the VSM awardees!

Vijay has now left the USI, after his four years term was over. While he was there, he often rang me up, to tell me about a new book, or an interesting lecture or seminar. Now that he has left, we rarely meet, though we do keep in touch by telephone. Of course, the comedy of errors has still not come to an end. A few months ago, I received a signal, asking me to give evidence in a Court Martial, as a defence witness. I was surprised because I had never known the officer who was being tried. When I read the signal again, I saw the light. The IC number of the person who was required was 18399. Mine is 16318!

The Signalman, Apr 1996                                                                                     67