The Posting Order

The posting order for me to take over command of 125 SATA Regiment – was issued on a Friday evening in June 2002 by the Military Secretary’s Branch of Army Headquarters. The first to learn of the order was our Second-in-Command (2IC), the late Colonel Suresh Babu, who knew me from our days at the Indian Military Academy (IMA). He called me immediately.

“Sir, please do not get this posting cancelled,” he urged. “This is an excellent unit, and you will enjoy commanding it. We are currently deployed in our operational area in Rajasthan.”

At that time, I was serving at Army Headquarters. On Monday morning, I was summoned by our boss, General Mohinder Puri. His words were direct and emphatic.

“Reji, it is a matter of pride – a God-sent opportunity – to command a unit. You must move immediately, as the posting is ‘forthwith.’ Please look after the soldiers under your command. There is a lot of hype going around in our field formations.”

After that meeting, I called General Raj Mehta – my mentor from National Defence Academy (NDA) days and throughout my Army service – who was then serving at Army Headquarters. His advice was no different.

“The soldiers of the unit you are going to command are fortunate,” he said. “You should not deny them the opportunity to serve under you. Your task is to ease the hype and pressure the soldiers are undergoing in their operational area.“

Arrival in the Operational Area

I understood what the Generals meant soon after reaching our unit in the operational area. It appeared that most Commanding Officers (COs) and Brigade Commanders were in an overdrive to prove the ‘combat readiness’ of their battalions and regiments.

A total makeover was underway across the units. Everything – movable or immovable – sported disruptive camouflage covering. Soldiers were dressed in disruptive combat dress twenty-four hours a day. Chairs had disruptive covers on their fine velvet tops. The dining table wore new tablecloths and matching table mats—all in camouflage. Tea cosies, coasters – all bore disruptive patterns. Some battalions had even covered their teacups and glasses with camouflage cloth. If they could have, many would have procured disruptive crockery and cutlery. Even the pencils and pens in the holders were camouflage-patterned. The list seemed endless.

Some commanders, I suspected, would have even contemplated issuing disruptive undergarments – though disruptive vests were already being issued. That was the height of ‘combat readiness’ in vogue at that time.

The Evening Walk

The evening after I assumed command, our 2IC took me on a walk to familiarise me with the surrounding area. He showed me the unit layout, neighbouring units, roads and tracks, villagers’ hutments, and the local wildlife – deer, peacocks, and more. At the end of the walk, as we returned to the Regimental Headquarters, we saw the evening roll call in progress.

Subedar Major (SM) Thangaswamy was conducting the roll call. Spotting us, he came running and reported.

“Do you conduct the evening roll call with our soldiers dressed in disruptive combat uniform?” I asked.

“Our unit is set to move into combat at any moment,” SM Thangaswamy replied. “Our soldiers even sleep in combat dress.”

That was when I understood the depth of the hype the Generals had described.

The First Order

Out of the blue, I gave my order: “After forty-eight hours, I want to see the roll call with all ranks wearing the most colourful T-shirts and Bermuda shorts.“

As I said it, I realised this was the first order I had issued since assuming command.

After the walk, I retired to my caravan, had a bath, and picked up a book to read. The commotion my first command order had created was immediately visible. All section commanders – Havildars and Subedars – were already closeted with their troop commanders outside their tents, mostly discussing how to execute the order. The 2IC was busy arranging transport for the men to visit the nearest city to procure their new outfits.

During the evening get-together at the Officers’ Mess, I said, “This evening, you are all dressed in disruptive combat uniform. Tomorrow onwards, we will have dinner in civvies.”

Our officers pressed for the reason behind my orders. I tactfully dodged their questions – a practice that continued for the next two days.

The Result

After two days, SM Thangaswamy appeared at my caravan wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with red and blue flowers printed on it, paired with vivid blue Bermuda shorts. He reported, “Sir, the entire Regiment is assembled for roll call in this dress, as per your orders.”

I complimented his attire. “Rajanikanth,” I said, “the Tamil movie hero, will have a run for his money seeing you now.” SM Thangaswamy blushed.

I explained to him: “Though my order might sound illogical, my aim is to ease the pressure and the hype.”

I added, “If you sleep in combat dress, you will only have combat dreams. If you sleep in colourful clothes, you are more likely to have colourful dreams.”

SM Thangaswamy left my caravan, trying his level best to suppress a broad smile – but failing. The hype had begun to lift. The soldiers, for the first time in months, looked relaxed. And somewhere in that colourful roll call, I knew the first order had been the right one.