Friday, August 9, 2013

My Grandfather's Wonder Years

Before my memory gets blurred...

"I was 16 or 17 years old and the year was 1943 when I ran away from home. I went to Cannanore(Kannur). I was wandering the streets of the town and came across a handloom building. I was standing in front of it when one of the weavers there asked where I was from. Mangalore, I told him. 
"Did you run away from home"
"No, I came looking for a job. I know weaving."
"Which illam(lineage, literally house)?"
"Anjari"
"Go to that corner cloth shop. The owner also belongs to your illam. Talk to him".
I met that person. He arranged for my stay and found a job for me in one of the handlooms in the town. Later I came to know that Maava (maternal uncle) had started looking for me and somebody from Cannanore informed him that I was working there. He left it at there. 

Few weeks passed and one day I found some kind of training going on in a near by area. I inquired with my benefactor and he told that it was an army recruitment drive and not a place for a person like me and also warned that I shouldn't go there. Of course, I went. I cleared the tests and when they were checking I turned out to be underage. The British Indian army was desperately seeking men as World War II was going on. The officer there added one or two years and said that that wouldn't matter and because of the big built I didn't look so young anyway.

Thus began my life as a soldier. We were given training for few months. I wasn't much of a marksman. However, I did well in other areas. I took to the disciplined life like fish to water. I suppose, I was mortally ashamed of punishment. There used to be an inspection of our sleeping areas after we were called up for the drill. If someone's clothes or bed weren't made up properly then the whole platoon was given punishment. I didn't want punishment. So, I would leave the room after everyone had left ensuring that the people had done their bed and clothes properly. If not, I myself would arrange them neatly. 

Not a crease here or there, that's how I kept my uniform. My dressing was immaculate and my drill was perfect and soon I came to the attention of my superiors. I was selected to participate in the guard of honour for the visiting king George VI or some bigwig. During the practice sessions, one of the officers observed that inner sides of my boots were losing their shine and wearing out. I was told my two side foot knots were brushing against each other because of the flat feet. I was removed from the contingent.

After the training I became army truck driver. Once I was stationed in Rawalpindi. It was winter.  One day we didn't have water for taking bath in our cantonment. I never missed my daily bath till that time and was determined to take bath that day too.  So I went to the river Swan. But I literally froze when I touched the water. I had to accept my defeat and skip my bath.

I never had the courage to fight all alone. But give me a buddy and I would be one of the bravest and ready to fight from the top of the Himalayas. While fighting the war, I was hardly intimidated. The truck would reach its destination unmindful of the happenings in all four directions. A funny thing about war was how disciplined it made men. The training war drills would never go right but during war they would never go wrong! 

I saw most of the action in Burma. In fact, we were fighting against the combined troupe of the Japanese army and Subhash Chandra Bose's INA. We took many Japanese prisoners. They were assigned some jobs during their captivity. Once I was taking the truck in the reverse gear to park. I heard somebody screaming in pain. I was scared that I hit somebody and looked back. I saw few Japanese laughing hysterically. I asked what had happened. One of them pointed to something behind my truck and made a gesture of hanging little finger. I went there and saw that one of the Japanese soldiers' little finger was crushed between the truck and the wall.I was mortified by seeing that. I got him first aid and made sure that he got some rest. 

All this while my folks back home were trying to find me. But I myself wrote a letter about joining the army. They were totally against it and started trying to convince me to leave the army. I wasn't sure. But once the war got over, I asked the officers to relieve me. Since we just got over a war they were lenient with such requests. But one of the officers who had good opinion about me tried to convince me to stay in the army. He even offered the post of Subedar to me. It was a great offer considering that I had completed only fourth standard. But I declined. 

The last month in the army, I gave a rest to my disciplined life and indulged in my favourite hobby, eating. Since I was anyway leaving the army the officers didn't castigate me. By the time I came home my girth had doubled."

2 comments:

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  2. Manjun, I remember you telling me that your grandfather was never at ease after he quit the army. I just hope he didn't spend too much time lamenting over the wrong decision.

    Contrary to your grandfather or people who were born before 1947, we have a very boring story to tell our grandchildren!

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