Testosterone
Adventures From Another Era
Brig
Jasbir Singh SM (37 CSM Hunter)
In the first half of 1969, I was a 5th termer
from 37th Course in H (Hunter) Squadron of National Defence
Academy (NDA) at Khadakwasla. Somewhere half way through the term, on a Sunday,
the cadets of H-Squadron were called upon to do an exercise, to clean
their bicycles in the ‘Cycle Stand’ that was located in the quadrangle behind
our squadron lines, in preparation for the approaching ‘Cycle Inspection’. I
think that was where I got this grand idea, that I must do something incredibly
more stupid than clean bicycles on a Sunday, in order to become a good officer
of the Indian Army.
‘Why don’t I climb a mountain ?,’ I thought to
myself. It was just a passing thought.
Among those cleaning the cycles, or hanging on the
cycle stand along with me, were my two good friends in H-Squadron, Cadets BP
Singh[2] and
BS Godara[3].
When we had finished cleaning the cycles, BP Singh suggested that we go to the
Café next door and enjoy what remained of our precious Sunday. Pushing our
bicycles into the stands and applying the all-important chain & padlocks,
we rushed to our cabins to retrieve some money. Money was always kept hidden in
the most incredibly secretive places, sometimes inside dirty and smelly OG
socks in the kit bag, or under the draw of study table. The curtain rod was the
obvious place to hide ‘Panama’ cigarettes. One had only a few Rupees, but that
was enough to buy a stomach full of happiness at the NDA Café, mostly Hot Dogs,
Chocolate Barfis and the delectable Mangola, a concoction that Mr Kapoor had
patented before the advent of Coke and Pepsi.
When we reached the Café, loud music was playing. A
beaming and bespectacled Mr Kapoor welcomed us inside. Mr Kapoor was the
owner-cum-manager and he was known amongst NDA cadets as ‘BSL’, ‘Bum-Slung-Low’,
rather outrageous but a befitting sobriquet. We sat at a table for meant for
four cadets and ordered Mangola & Chocolate Barfis- our standard
fare. A cadet who was sitting across the Cafe, sauntered over and joined
us at our table. There were happy handshakes and back-slapping. The cadet who
joined us was SS Thakar[4],
a course-mate from ‘I’ (India) Squadron. The quorum at the table was complete,
I had an audience.
Amidst light hearted banter about Sub Maj
Kanshi Ram’s ‘drill-square antics’, I suggested to my friends that we should go
and climb a peak in the Himalayas to prove that we were ready to be men of
substance. We had the previous weekend watched an adventure movie in which the
hero had climbed a tall, rugged mountain peak, and that was the origin of my
brilliant idea, not very original I guess. But it helped fire the imagination
of my three friends. They readily agreed to the proposal to climb a peak, they
were as crazy as I was, if not more crazy. We were dying to do healthy
mischief. After much discussion, more Mangolas, Hotdogs and Burfis,
it was mutually decided that we need to do a survey of a climbable peak in the
Himalayas and to find one, we would need to peruse maps and charts of the
Himalayas. We didn’t know where to start looking. However, it was mutually
agreed that the project had to be kept ‘Top Secret’ if it had to succeed.
‘Try Mr Basu’s Geography Department’, Suhas suggested,
he was the only one witth intelligence, rest of us had muscles between our
ears. ‘I will befriend Mr Basu’s daughter to get weather forecast’, Suhas
volunteered. We sniggered, over the Mangola. In our opinion at that time, femme
fatales were no good for forecast, we were not sure what they were good at. So
we made Suhas in-charge of identifying a climbable peak and to sort out weather
and other dooms day predictions from Mz Basu using his incredible charm and
wit.
Within a week, we discovered to our dismay, that it
was not easy to get hold of any maps. All documents connected with the
Himalayan borders were considered extremely sensitive, after the ‘Chinese
Aggression’ of 1962. Mz Basu refused to help, and Mr Basu’s assistants
were reluctant to let us take a look at the maps of Himalayas, of Ladakh and
NEFA. We knew we could find them in the Army Training Team, but in 5th term,
we did not have any access to that citadel. After a lot of
persuasion with believable lies about religious faith and cajoling with boyish
enthusiasm, a god fearing fellow named ‘Panditji’, an assistant in the
Geography department permitted us to study maps of peaks around the Himalayan
shrine of Badrinath in the Gharwal region, far away from contentious area
concerning the Chinese. However, ‘Panditji’s’ conditions were
rigid, the maps had to be studied while standing in the dark and
dingy confines of the store-room of Geography Department.
Luckily, Suhas Thakar’s Uncle was serving as Second-in-Command
of an Artillery unit (93 Mountain Regt), located in Joshimath area.
Thakar wrote to his Uncle about the planned expedition and received a prompt
reply saying that the Artillery Regt had a battery located at Mana and they
would be glad to arrange transportation from the rail-head at Raiwala to
Joshimath and onwards to Mana. The Uncle added that the Regt would provide us
with necessary mountaineering equipment (nylon ropes, climbing boots, crampons,
heavy woollen socks, woollen caps, gloves, snow goggles, ice axes etc). The
Uncle, however, wanted us to avoid undertaking a dangerous venture like
attempting to climb a mountain peak. He wrote we should instead settle for a
trekking holiday. However, all four of us discussed the matter and decided that
we would adhere to our original plan of climbing a mountain peak.
The news Thakar gave us about location of 93
Mountain Regiment, was indeed heartening and it spurred us on to look for a
suitable peak in Garhwal Himalayas. All four of us studied the maps of
Badrinath area and even painstakingly made pencil sketches of all the roads
& tracks in the area. Whenever we could find the time, we met in the silent
confines of ‘H’ Sqn ante room and discussed our plans for the so called
‘expedition’. The meetings also allowed us to play some billiards in the
adjoining Billiards Room. We excitedly considered various factors
and finally decided to climb a peak named ‘Nar Parbat’, which was about 22,000
feet above mean sea level, in Garhwal Himalayas. Once the peak had been
identified, Thakar agreed to inform his Uncle that we were determined to climb
Nar Parbat with assistance of 93 Mountain Regt and would not like to waste our
precious summer break doing a Himalayan Trek. We felt that treks were meant for
‘sissies’, while we had to perform a ‘gung ho’ feat and climb a difficult Himalayan
peak. Although a number of serious problems stared us in the face, we were
determined to climb Nar Parbat. We sat quietly in NDA library for hours on end
to research and went over our plans with a ‘fine-toothed comb’. Since, it was
difficult for Thakar to come all the way to ‘H’ Sqn at odd hours, we often left
him out when we would meet regularly and try to find ways to overcome our
problems of finances, food-stuffs, NDA flag to plant on the peak and most
importantly, permission from our parents - it had been agreed that the
expedition would be launched during the forthcoming summer term break and we
would get only a couple of days at home, after the climb. Transportation from
Kirkee to New Delhi was to be done by the NDA Special Train. Then, from New Delhi
to Raiwala we were to travel by train ‘without tickets’. If we were caught by
Railway Staff, we planned to tell them a ‘sob story’ and promptly buy ‘third
class’ tickets. It had been arranged by Thakar that vehicles of 93 Mountain
Regt would transport us from Raiwala to Joshimath, Mana and back.
As we were determined to climb Nar Parbat, we
decided to tell only a few close friends of our plans. We required their
cooperation and assistance with the logistics of our mission. They tried their
best to dissuade us from venturing on the expedition. They warned us of the
serious pitfalls in our plans. They told us to behave like ‘normal’ cadets and
go home for a well-deserved summer-break, after the gruelling rigours of
NDA. It was decided that at any cost, NDA authorities were not
to get even a whiff of our plans. We found out that the Adventure Club in
Science block had some camping type rucksacks but we had to find an
excuse to get at them. We told our Sqn Cdr a compelling yarn that we were going
on a short trek during the term break and requested his help to draw the
rucksacks. ‘Crazy Buggers’, he commented, but gave us a chit to go and get the
rucksacks issued from the Adventure Club in his name. Cadet
Umang Kapoor, smartly dressed in white patrols, was returning from a rehearsal
of ‘Stick Orderly duties’ for the forthcoming Passing Out Parade (POP). Boota
requisitioned his help to help us carry the heavy rucksacks back to ‘H’
Squadron. We had to be wary not to be seen by the ‘old fox’, Sub Maj Kanshi Ram,
who was said to be lurking near the ‘Quarter Deck’. Besides his baritone and
gravelly voice, Sub Maj Kanshi Ram was said to have a pair of eyes ‘at the back
of his head’. If we were caught, Sub Maj Kanshi Ram would surely tell Maj
Canteenwala, Adjutant, and our game would be as good as over, even before the
adventure had begun!
The four of us wrote to our parents, giving some
bullshit about going trekking, the same story that we had given to our Sqn Cdr,
explaining that we would only be able to spend just a few days at home, before
proceeding back to NDA. It was necessary to keep them distracted so that they
did not complain to NDA that we did not come home and that we were
missing. Despite all my fears, my parents did not object. I
guess they were glad to have the ‘bounder’ out of their hair, for some more
time.
Our major problem was the logistic nightmare,
arranging food and water for duration of the actual climb to the peak. After
finding no other viable solution, it was decided that ‘dog biscuits’ received
with morning and afternoon tea would have to suffice. We requested the Company
Quater-Master Seargent (CQMS) to ask
all cadets of ‘H’ Sqn to forgo two biscuits from the four biscuits each cadet
received daily, all for a good cause, our expedition. We packed these biscuits
in foot-long cylindrical rolls made of newspaper and secured with bits of
sticking tape, stolen from the Sqn Cdr’s office. We had our NDA
issue water bottles, and where we had to go there would be snow. So water was
not considered a problem. On assessing our total requirement of foodstuffs, we
realized the biscuits would not suffice for the entire expedition. As we had
only limited money and could not purchase the items, the option we all agreed
was to raid the Café. That night we quietly entered the Café and returned to
‘H’ Sqn with bulging pillow cases filed with biscuits, cakes, packets of ‘namkeen’,
tins of mango pulp (from which BSL Kapoor made ‘Mangola’ drinks) and long
strings of sausages. We laughed heartily when we imagined the shocked
expression on the face of ‘BSL’ Kapoor, when he opened the Café next
morning.
We felt it was absolutely necessary to plant a NDA
flag on ‘Nar Parbhat’. The problem of obtaining a flag was resolved in a rather
ingenious manner. While returning from Inter Squadron Athletics Competition in
progress at NDA Stadium, I quietly removed a blue coloured flag, fluttering at
the start point of 110 m High Hurdles race. A paper stencil was prepared in
‘Hitler’s Workshop’ with letters of NDA. Then, the blue flag was laid flat on
the ground at ‘H’ Squadron parade ground and large amounts of ‘liberated’ white
paint was evenly spread over the stencil. Now, our expedition had a flag that
proudly proclaimed ‘NDA’ in bold white letters, and we hoped it would soon
adorn ‘Nar Parbhat’.
After POP, all four of us moved to Kirkee and
boarded the NDA Special Train that was going to New Delhi. The journey was
uneventful and we spent our time studying the hand-drawn maps and packing and
re-packing our precious food supplies. This was done when we were not
participating in unruly activities that were an integral part of travelling on
the NDA Special Train. At New Delhi we stayed a day in BP Singh’s home and
excitedly went out to the nearby market and bought some essential items, mostly
dehydrated foodstuff that was just beginning to come into the market those days.
Deciding that ‘discretion was better than valour’,
on the next day, we bought ‘third class’ train tickets and boarded a crowded
compartment on the night train from Old Delhi to Dehra Dun. After a rather
uncomfortable night spent sitting on hard, wooden seats, early in the morning
we were happy to get off the train at Raiwala Railway Station. At RTO Office
(now called MCO Office), we were met by a smartly uniformed Junior Commissioned
Officer (JCO) of 93 Mountain Regt. We walked across to an Army convoy, where
the JCO asked us to get into a Nissan One Ton truck. We quickly hoisted
ourselves over the tail-board of the vehicle and settled down in its rear
portion. The truck was loaded with sacks of potatoes and had some bags of red
chillies, as well. The condiments made us sneeze and our noses began to run
freely. Soon, the convoy started up the mountain and we were tossed around
uncontrollably, as the truck swerved sharply and bounced along the pitted road.
When we were not busy retching over the tailboard, we saw a number of
villages and small towns whiz past us. The road snaked along the turbulent
Alaknanda River and clouds of dark, diesel smoke wafted into the rear portion
of the truck. The diesel fumes caused us to be horribly sick and we vomited
uncontrollably over the tail-board of the bouncing truck. The
convoy sped past Srinagar, Chamoli, Karnaprayag, Rudraprayag and in the
evening, the vehicles finally entered Joshimath.
At Joshimath we met Thakar’s Uncle, who was a
senior Maj in the Regt. He allotted us a room that had both walls and roof made
of tin sheets. We were fascinated by the ‘tin room’, as we had never seen such
a structure. After recovering from our journey, on the next day, we organized
our kit and discussed our future plans with Thakar’s Uncle. We were advised to
make a trip to Hemkund, to get acclimatized, before we attempted the main climb
to Nar Parbat. Next morning, we were taken from Joshimath to Govindghat in a
One Ton truck. At Govindghat we dismounted from the vehicle and trekked along
the river, for a distance of 15 km and arrived at the small settlement of
Ghagaria. After a night in the Gurudwara at Ghagaria, we began the climb to
Hemkund at 14, 500 feet above sea level. There were now steep slopes on the way
and we found Hemkund to be devoid of any kind of habitation. At Hemkund there
was a small Gurudwara, which was locked. A sheet of ice covered the large
pond, located at the base of high snow clad mountains. We broke a hole in the
ice sheet over the pond and entered the freezing water, for a holy
dip. In no time at all, we were out on the snow and glad to be back
in our warm clothes. After the dip and obeisance from outside the closed
Gurudwara, we descended to Ghagaria, for another night in the lower
Gurudwara.
Next morning the four of us hefted our heavy
haversacks and trekked back to Govindghat and the road. Once at the road, we
did not have to wait for long as a One Ton Truck of 93 Mountain Regt was
awaiting our arrival. After a short drive, we passed the famed temple at
Badrinath and drove on to the Battery Camp at Mana. Here, we were met by the
Battery Commander named Capt Duggal[5] and
a young 2 Lt, who seemed to smile all the time. We were put up in a large snow
tent that was surrounded by towering rock faces and snow covered peaks.
Capt Duggal was hospitable and very pleased to know
we were from NDA, and had volunteered for the climb during our summer term
break. He entertained us with humorous anecdotes of life in ‘Foxtrot’ Squadron,
NDA, during his time as a cadet. He told us about how they would tip-toe behind
a ‘nosey-parker’ Div O, who had a habit of lurking around the Sqn lines at
night, to see what cadets were up to. Once they had scared him by making
ghostly sounds from the darkened bathrooms on first floor. The poor Div O had
run down, kick-started his scooter and zoomed off to D-3 Area. He was never
seen again in ‘F’ Sqn lines at night after this episode. That is what Duggal
told us. We in turn regaled him with similar stories, to assure him that NDA
was more or less the same and nothing had changed.
We were shown the general route to Nar Parbat area
and given a small snow-tent, nylon ropes and ice axes. Having acclimatized
earlier, we did not have to wait for long before we began our long awaited
climb. Carrying the cumbersome mountaineering equipment and heavy tent for the
first time in our lives, we said our goodbyes and began climbing towards
Vasudhara Falls (famous for exploits of Pandavas, during the legendary epic of
‘Mahabharata’). As we plodded on, we were dwarfed by the sheer rock faces and mountain
peaks, all around us. We could scarcely believe we were actually climbing in
Garhwal Himalayas. We passed Vasudhara Falls, which was quite a disappointment
as we had expected a much larger waterfall, with a greater volume of water. We moved one behind the other, puffing and
panting due to the rarefied high altitude air, the steep climb and our heavy
loads. We climbed silently and generally looked down as we proceeded higher.
The foot-track soon disappeared and we were confronted with a sheer rock face. Cautiously,
we negotiated the difficult climb and stopped at the top of the rock to catch
our breath and admire the massive mountain peaks around us. We stopped
frequently to catch our breath and to admire the beautiful mountain peaks, all
around us.
Soon, heavy black clouds began to fill the sky and
we prayed silently, hoping the weather would not turn foul. Soon, there was the
first rumble of thunder as we reached a small snow covered flat piece of
ground. Looking at our watches we realized that we had been climbing
continuously for more than eight hours after we had left Mana. The area had
some pieces of shale lying on the snow and appeared a good place to spend the
night. With the weather worsening rapidly, we halted for the night at the flat
ground and removed our heavy rucksacks. A cold wind began to lash the area and
the temperature plummeted rapidly. We speedily pitched the snow-tent, and sat
within our sleeping bags. Most of our climbing gear had to be left outside the
tent, as there was not enough room within the pup tent for four of us and our
stuffed rucksacks. With the map given to us by Capt Duggal, and crude
preliminary navigation using our hand held compass, we estimated that we were
at an altitude of about 18,000 ft above sea level and had covered considerable
distance from Mana.
Thakar and Godara went off to sleep. So I prodded
Boota and we went out of the cozy tent to light a primus stove in a
small hollow. Protected from the cold and howling wind, we opened some cans and
made hot corn soup on the hissing primus stove. Faraway, deep down in the
valley, we could see the twinkling lights of Mana and Badrinath. Once the soup
was cooked, we poured it into porcelain mugs and carried the mugs inside the
tent. Shivering with biting cold we drank the hot soup and ate some of ‘BSL’
Kapoor’s rotten sausages. The meal tasted delicious and we topped it off with
about ten ‘dog biscuits’ each. Contented with the dinner, we climbed into our
sleeping bags. Meanwhile, angry gusts of cold wind buffeted the tent and we
were glad we had used heavy rocks to weigh down the tent flaps. We had lit a
solitary candle in the tent and it provided us with enough light and warmth. We
remembered Duggal’s solemn warning not to keep the candle lit for more than 10
minutes. He had told us the naked candle flame would use up the oxygen in our
enclosed tent, and lead to our suffocation and a disastrous end for
us. He had added that the naked candle was a great fire hazard as well. So we
promptly blew out the candle and shivered in our sleeping bags. A torch-light
was kept handy in the middle of the tent, and it had to be switched ‘on’ in
case of an emergency.
Next morning we were up before dawn. On emerging
from the tent we looked up at the sky and were pleased to see the clouds had
cleared, leaving us a beautiful morning. A number of jet black Ravens were
hopping about around our tent. They opened their grey coloured beaks and
squawked loudly when they saw emerge from the tent. As the day dawned, a warm
Sun showed itself over the tall mountain to the east and bathed the four of us
in its warm glow. Dark clouds were beginning to gather in the sky and we
realized that an immediate attempt had to be made to reach the summit of Nar
Parbat, before the weather worsened. We knew that bad weather could last for
days at a stretch and by the coming afternoon clouds would cover the sky and
bring menacingly cold winds and fresh snow. Not wanting to delay our move, we
put our rucksacks within the tent, had some hot tea and ‘dog biscuits’ and
began the final climb. It was a steep climb to the summit, through deep snow
drifts and over sharp rock faces. The ice axes were useful for cutting steps in
the ice as we climbed higher. The climb was easier than the previous day as our
heavy rucksacks had been left in the tent. We desperately speeded up the climb
as violent gusts of icy wind buffeted us and the visibility began to drop
rapidly.
After a four to five hours steep limb,
at about 10 AM, we found there was no more uphill climb and the snow slope
began to descend gradually. With great joy we halted and realized we were at
the summit of Nar Parbat. We quickly unfurled the NDA flag, took some
photographs and made a silent wish. We quickly descended to a lower altitude as
the blowing sleet had begun to sting our faces and clog our goggles. The
visibility progressively got worse as the strong wind turned to a raging
blizzard. With great difficulty we descended to the ledge, where our lone tent
stood like a ghostly sentinel. Quickly we got into the tent and snuggled into
our sleeping bags. We were thrilled as we had defied all odds and climbed Nar
Parbat. It all seemed well worth the effort and even our missed summer vacation
was forgotten. The great stories we had for the other cadets of our squadron,
was all that mattered. We never used any oxygen. That is why I
presume I had a horrible bout of mountain sickness. In the tent, I hallucinated
that I was an oversized Raven. I felt I was sitting on a rock and squawking
like mad. By next morning all of us were in pretty bad shape. We buried most of
our useless things, our personal stuff, clothes, toiletry, foodstuffs and
everything that we could jettison to make our packs lighter for the return
trip. It was downhill and the weather was brilliant and sunny. So we made it
back to Mana safely. We stayed with Capt Duggal for two days to get our breath
back and to have enough energy to travel back to Joshimath, more or less
in the same manner that we had gone up. We were given a rousing welcome back by
Thakar’s uncle in 93 Mtn Rgt mess, including a hot water bath and sumptuous
food. Thereafter we were put on a convoy that was heading back to
Raiwala.
Outside Raiwala railway station we ate a frugal
meal in a Dhaba. We bought 3rd class return tickets to Delhi.
What little money that remained, we split it equally between all four of us.
Boota and Godara went back to Delhi. Suhas went back to Bombay and I went to
Moradabad to see my parents at our farm. The four of us spent around four days
with our parents and then it was time to go back to NDA to begin our 6th and
last term in NDA. The rucksacks were returned to the adventure club
and the four of us went back to Panditjii to thank him for his help. However,
we told Mz Basu that her dooms day prediction of weather did not come true and
that there was bright sun all the way from NDA to Mt Everest which we had
climbed. She really believed us, that we had climbed Mt Everest and hence
forgave our snub. We told her that we had specially packed some snow and
brought it all the way to Poona, but it melted. She was a nice girl. She smiled
and said, ‘Ja,Ja Bekoof’. We thought she was asking us to climb another
mountain to win her affections, we were pretty foolish boys when it came to
girls. But a 22,000 feet mountain we did climb, the four of us, all by
ourselves. It was easier than winning the affections of Ms Basu and
girls of those times. It made us feel soldierly, whatever that meant. It was
simply an impetuous act of youth due to an over doze of adrenalin and
testosterone.
Foot Notes (By Me - Unni)
[1] Jasbir Singh is a 5th generation
military officer from the illustrious Sekhon clan who once helped Ranjit Singh
rule an undivided Punjab, every one of them illustrious and highly decorated.
Jasbir was commissioned into 4 Kumaon, fought the 71 war in Bangladesh, was
decorated in Nagaland for acts of valour, did yeoman military service in India
and abroad. Commanded 52 Brigade in Chamb during Kargil conflict and if he had
his way, he may have gone and captured Pak singlehanded. Instead, he
was sent to Lesotho to stop two warring factions. He did all that and more,
almost single handed, armed with just a stick. As the National Security Advisor
under UN auspices in Lesotho, he conducted free and fair elections and helped
form a new Democratic Republic. He is basically a man who thought he was a T-90
tank, unstoppable, till God decided he has done enough mischief and so put him
in a wheel chair in Ranikhet where he now lives happy and content with his
extraordinary and charming wife Saby and writes wonderful tales of honour and
valour, like this incredible story.
[2] BP Singh, aka Boots, as well as Boota,
was generally known as ‘MGM Lion’ for his life like enactment of the ‘MGM
Lion’s Roar’, he often performed this in ‘H’ Sqn anteroom whenever he was
called upon to entertain. Bhuta went on to join IAF and was an
inspirational fighter pilot. He took a premature retirement as a Wg
Cdr and is now doing yeoman service teaching young people to fly in Sagar (MP).
[3] BS Godara joined the army, Corps
of Engineers and did brilliant things in peace and war. Finally he changed
to Army’s ‘Legal’ branch. He retired a Colonel and now lives in Gurgaon,
fighting different kind of battles, the ones in a court. He continues to be an
illustrious and inspiring soldier.
[4] Suhas
Thakar is a brilliant immensely helpful and likable person, a Rimcolian like
Jasbir, he stood 4th in the
order of merit for joining NDA with 37th course. Afterwards, he
joined the Corps of Engineers and served in the elite 411 Parachute Field Company in 71 war, and did very inspirational things in peace and war, one
of which was to dig the first set of nuclear tunnels at Pokran. He took
premature retirement as a Maj due to disabilities arising from military service
and went on to be a very successful civil engineer. Too old to engineer, he is
now an accredited “Golf Umpire” sought after worldwide, not just Iqball, but ‘a
real two ball Singh’ !!!
[5] Jasbir met
Capt Duggal again when they were operating in East Pakistan during the
India-Pakistan War, 1971. Duggal was an OP officer with Jasbir’s neighbouring
battalion. He was sadly killed while directing 75/24 mm artillery fire onto
enemy defences, during an attack on Munshibazaar, Sylhet Sector, East.
Pakistan (now Bangladesh).
