A Quantum Leap in Gunnery

The induction of the 155mm Bofors Guns into the Indian Army in 1987 was a quantum leap, bringing computing power into the field of gunnery for the first time. Until then, we had relied on cumbersome manual procedures: logarithmic tables, range tables, graphical instruments, and handheld calculators. The arrival of computers promised speed, precision, and a radical new way of thinking.

In our Regiment, I took on the responsibility of training our soldiers on these new machines. Adhering to the old military adage, It is easier to put a new idea into a military mind, but next to impossible to take out an old one, I selected our youngest soldiers for the first batch. The experienced Havildars and Naiks (Sergeants and Corporals) would wait; I reasoned that old habits had not yet taken root in the younger men.

Sepoy Nem Pal: A Star in the Making

The class began in earnest. Among the trainees was Sepoy Nem Pal, a highly intelligent soldier with nimble fingers and a fierce desire to excel. He was the ideal candidate.

After a few days, we moved on to the procedures for engaging targets. I demonstrated the steps, tasked the men with practicing, and was shortly summoned by our Commanding Officer.

Fifteen minutes later, I returned to find Nem Pal visibly worked up. He approached me anxiously. “Sir, it works perfectly when you do it on the computer. But when we do it, nothing happens. Why?“

Lacking a logical answer, I shot back with authority: “It is because you do not wash your hands in the morning with soap and water. When you touch the computer with dirty hands, the Computer God becomes displeased, and you fail.”

Nem Pal rushed out of the room. A few minutes later, he returned and tried again. Fifteen minutes after that, he came back to me, looking entirely puzzled. “Sir, I did wash my hands properly with soap and water. Still, I do not get the desired results.”

That, I realised, was the Indian Army way of handwashing. There was no set drill for it. No standard operating procedure. Everyone developed their own method—or none at all.

A Different Kind of Training

On landing in Canada, gardening became my hobby. Marina always insisted I wear gloves while gardening, but I found them uncomfortable and mostly avoided them.

One spring weekend, we decided to eat out for lunch. As I changed after gardening, Marina said, “Look at your fingers! They are so dirty. Please clean up before we set out.”

I spent the next several minutes scrubbing dirt from under my nails. After that day, I wore the gloves.

The Technician’s Secret

Years later, my career shifted from the military to corporate leadership. While serving as the CEO of a pharmacy chain in Canada, I was visiting one of our local stores when I noticed a young pharmacy technician putting on four pairs of gloves, one over the other.

Amused, I asked her why.

“Every time I handle a different medication, or if a glove touches a non-sterile surface, I simply peel off the top layer to reveal a clean glove underneath,” she explained.

“Where did you learn that protocol?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I worked part-time at a fast-food restaurant in high school,” she said. “The manager taught me this technique to save us from constantly washing and drying our hands between orders.”

The Power of Standard Protocols

What a brilliant operational shortcut. It was efficient, hygienic, and practical—born not in a sterile hospital or a pharmacy school, but in a fast-food kitchen.

Like any discipline, whether it is operating a sophisticated Bofors artillery computer or maintaining medical hygiene, success relies entirely on standard operating procedures. True discipline begins at home, is reinforced at school, and becomes locked in at university or the military academy. Sometimes, it is passed down by a restaurant manager to a pharmacy technician, where that simple habit might one day save a life.

As for the Computer God? I like to believe that by now, Sepoy Nem Pal has made his peace with Him. Perhaps, somewhere, he is still meticulously washing his hands – just in case.