Debating a Marshal's death

3

Tweet

India needs to wake up! A Field Marshal, a legend, a father figure, a soldier who could never retire passes away into eternity, and the Home and Defence Ministry squabble over the warrant of precedence? What warrant of precedence?

Who other than stodgy government types cares what the warrant says? Respect has to be earned, not demanded. The custodians of the warrants are supposed to be the crème de la crème - The Indian Administrative Service, and surely the least that one expects from the IAS, is an ability to think.

And is this what the top officials thought? If the legendary Marshal did not straightaway warrant an amazingly respectful state funeral then who really does? And for what credentials? It is amazing that our great nation is coming down to such a level that it does not have the ability to quickly recognize and salute genuine worthiness, genuine talent and bestow genuine honor.

And in a nation where divisive forces are at work all the time and every time, surely a unifying act like bidding a farewell together works to bond the nation together. These are nation building and bonding moments. Why lose them?

And what to speak of the defence chiefs! The three chiefs for some reason or the other did not attend the funeral. When they have state provided personal prerogative aircraft to whisk them anywhere in the country, which they in fact do over welfare visits and all other pretexts, there really was no reason why they should have been absent when the senior most officer of the nation's defence forces had bid adieu to all.

Mind you, a Field Marshal never retires, alright it is an honorary distinction, but in a highly disciplined force, it is a rank that is for all time till he lives and it is the superlative military rank, besides of course the President of the India.

The armed forces surely have no business to think otherwise and in fact most don't. But those who chose to debate, unfortunately happen to be at the helm of affairs. The army chief's staff car has four glittering stars affixed to its star plate along with four stars on the fluttering red flag.

When a Field Marshal moves in a military car it has FIVE stars on the star plate and the flag. And, even if we keep the stars and flags aside, a legend was moving on.

Surely, we could have done better to see him off. Sad. And if the force commanders say they did not have enough time, then woe befall a nation whose defence chiefs cannot fly down from Delhi to Wellington in two days, despite state of the art aircraft, facilities, allowances and permissions. I wonder how they would react when a cruise missile comes roaring into Indian air space faster than the speed of sound.

I stayed at Wellington when my father was posted at the Madras Regimental Centre (MRC). That is the building you saw in the funeral ceremony as the Field Marshal lay in state. And in Wellington, his was a towering shade over the MRC and the Defence Services Staff College, the mecca of higher military studies.

The Field Marshal stayed in adjacent Conoor and would always be the guest of honor at military functions, provided he was in town, where a hushed awe would await as he would enter. He was a legend alright.

My father fondly recalls a day when Marshal Manekshaw, then the Army Chief was to visit Dalhousie. All officers were smartly lined up in their best uniforms, shining stars, gleaming boots, chests out, tummies in, waiting for the Marshal to turn up and get to greet him one by one.

Soon the gleaming black Chief's car swooped in, Regimental Police snapped to attention, the ever smiling Marshal (then a full General), with his ever twinkling eyes, stepped down, and without a single glance towards the lined up officers made straight for the big mustachioed Karnataka native Regimental Police man. "Kaisa Hai?" his voice boomed.

"Theek hai? Family Kaisa Hai?" he continued. After chatting for a good two minutes with the Havaldar (sergeant), Sam made his way back to warmly greet the officers. However, in those two minutes he sent out a powerful message, reminding the officers of what they had read on their way to becoming officers at Chetwode Hall in the Indian Military Academy at Dehradun. 'The welfare of your men comes before you, always and every time.'

And then Sam made his way towards the lady wives of the officers, a beaming smile on his face. He proceeded to shake hands with them, and when he approached my mother, my father was petrified lest she decline to shake hands as those days India was still very conservative, very traditional.

However, my mother did meekly shake hands even as the Marshal again lightened the mood by booming out... "good watch...where did you get it from?"

The Army is peppered with anecdotes of the Marshal, his style, his verve, his panache, his guts, his glory, his smarts, his personality, his aura, his warmth. Surely, we could have bid him a better goodbye. Surely, at least the Army should have left no stone unturned in their wishing him a warm adieu into eternity. Perhaps, it serves as a wake up call to say that one should be prepared for death, just as one should be prepared for life.

An old military saying goes 'Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.' Marshal Manekshaw won't fade away in a hurry.