75 Medium Regiment

8 Comments Posted on by Reji Koduvath Indian Army

Regimental Training for a Young Officer

A Regiment of Many Classes

In January 1983, I joined the 75 Medium Regiment—my first posting as a freshly minted officer. The Regiment then had an intriguing class composition: one battery of Brahmins (excluding those from the Southern and Eastern States), a second battery of Jats, and a third manned by soldiers from the four Southern States. Managing each battery required a different approach—their reactions, languages, and needs were distinct. Today, the Regiment draws soldiers from every class and region across the nation.

I was allotted the Brahmin Battery, commanded by Late Major Daulat Bhardwaj. A Brahmin himself, his first advice to me was uncompromising: “To command Brahmin soldiers, you must be a Brahmin yourself. Beat them in all aspects—physical, mental, and spiritual. You must be mentally alert and morally straight, else they will never respect you. Once you earn their respect and confidence, they will follow you blindly.”

He continued, “You are a Christian from Kerala. You have to beat the Brahmins even in spiritual matters. Attend the Mandir Parade every evening, learn the aartis, slokas, mantras, and hymns by heart, understand their meaning, and apply them to your everyday life.”

Within a month, I could sing the aarti and recite the slokas fluently. I had become a Brahmin. Even though the first of the Ten Commandments declares, “You shall have no other gods before Me,” for any officer of the Indian Army, the religion of the soldiers they command comes before their own. While my lips moved to Hindu prayers, my heart prayed to my Lord and Saviour, Christ. In truth, I was praying to a God I did not believe in—for soldiers who believed in me.

The Lilliput Among Giants

The soldiers of the Brahmin Battery—especially the Medium Gunners who manned the 8-ton 130mm Russian gun—were all well-built, nearly six feet tall. They were selected for their strength to handle the gun’s 50 kg shells, and for the physically punishing task of transitioning the gun from travelling mode to action mode. Among these giants, I stood as a Lilliput. I had to look up to meet their eyes when I spoke. Instead of them looking up to me, I was looking up to them.

Life in the Barracks

My first quarters in the Regiment were in the soldiers’ barracks. My bed was placed next to Havildar Brij Bhushan Mishra, better known among the soldiers as BB Major. He was the senior-most Gun Detachment Commander, renowned for his gunnery training abilities. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, forcing soldiers to strain their ears. He believed little in talk, but the soldiers respected and feared him. He was tough, and he sported a ferocious handlebar moustache. He lived by the doctrine that soldiers and brass are alike—the harder you rub, the brighter they shine.

Gun Drill and a Humbling Lesson

I began gunnery training like any recruit—as Number 9 of the detachment, attending Gun Drill classes under BB Major’s watchful eye. With each passing day, I was promoted until, within two weeks, I became the Gun Detachment Commander.

I was impressed with my swift advancement—until I goofed up. During a drill, my omission could have jeopardised the safety of the crew. BB Major’s timely intervention saved me. He ordered “Stand Fast”—the command that freezes everyone when a commander senses risk. He pulled me out, shook me hard, and said, “Saheb, you must take care of the soldiers under your command. You must be alert at all times. You cannot risk their safety because of your carelessness.”

Major Daulat Bhardwaj, watching from the sidelines, called out: “BB, तेरे मूछों में दम है!” (There is strength in your moustache!)

I did not speak a word. I was shaken and deeply guilty.

Mutual Respect

That incident forged mutual respect between BB Major and me. In later training sessions, he often quoted it to young soldiers—and how well I had taken it in my stride. He added, “If I could do it to the Lieutenant Saheb, you guys better watch out.“

From that day onward, I understood: leadership is not about authority; it is about responsibility. And a leader who learns from his mistakes is one who earns the trust of those he leads. I also understood that in the Indian Army, respect is earned not by rank, but by the willingness to stand alongside your men—and sometimes, to look up to them.

7 Comments Posted on by Reji Koduvath Indian Army

Who will Play the Butcher?

In 1997 after the Technical Staff Course of 18 months, I was posted back to my parent unit 75 Medium Regiment. In those days the unit had three batteries, each with different class composition of soldiers. Now it has men from all over India, comprising of all classes. A battery is a sub-unit of an Artillery Regiment consisting of six Guns and about 125 soldiers to operate them along with vehicles, radio sets and other technical equipment.

The Regiment then had an interesting class composition. One battery was of Brahmins (other than those from the Southern and Eastern States of India), the second had Jats and the third was manned by the soldiers from the four Southern States. Management of soldiers in all the batteries differed as their reactions to various situations, their needs, their languages etc were different.

In those days, any Young Officer posted to the Regiment served with each of the batteries for one or two years in order to familiarise them with the soldiers. I too went through this rotation until I moved out for the Long Gunnery Course for 13 months. On my return from the course in 1990, I was appointed the Battery Commander (BC) of the Brahmin Battery. After two years I moved on posting to a staff appointment and returned after two years, again I was handed over the reins of the Brahmin Battery until I moved out for the Technical Staff Course.

On my return to the Regiment in 1997 after the Technical Staff Course, the unit was located in the high-altitude area (10,000 feet above Sea Level) of Sikkim, where families were not permitted to live with the soldiers or officers. After the customary ‘Dining-in’ in the evening at the Officers’ Mess, our Commanding Officer (CO) Colonel PK Ramachandran spoke welcoming me back into the fold and ordered me to be the BC of the Brahmin Battery. “Oh! Not again,” was my instant reply and the CO was a bit puzzled.  He later spoke to me in person and I requested that I need a change and I wanted to have the experience of commanding another battery. Our CO had his own logical reasoning for his decision and I did accept the same without any remorse as I too was convinced. Col Ramachandran had earlier served throughout his army career with a Regiment which had only Brahmin soldiers and I realised the he exactly knew the horse for the course.

The first week I spent at the Regimental Headquarters, carrying out the acclimatisation drills laid down for any soldier on arrival in high-altitude area. Our Battery was located about three km from the Regimental Headquarters. I luckily had two energetic and hardworking officers – Captain Samya Saurav, the Second-in-Command and Lieutenant Manish Wahi, the Gun Position Officer – both are presently Colonels, who effectively commanded their units. I delegated all my duties to the two and they did an excellent job that I hardly ever visited the battery.  Our CO wanted me to stay with the Regimental Headquarters to assist him, hence I had to delegate most duties to my junior officers.

After the week long acclimatisation, I decided to pay a visit to the Battery in the morning. When I reached the kitchen area, I found six sheep grazing there. In high-altitude area live sheep are supplied as rations in place of dressed meat. These sheep are called Meat on Hoof (MOH) but are mostly Meat on Knees as these sheep are nearly dead after traversing through the difficult mountain roads from the plains.   The soldiers fed them well for a week to bring them back to life before they are slaughtered.

On inquiry I realised the problem of the sheep – the Brahmins did not want to slaughter the animals, but like good soldiers, wanted to partake the meat. I ordered the Havildar Major (Sergeant Major) Kanti Prasad to assemble the entire battery at 12 Noon in front of the kitchen and the BC will slaughter the animal in their presence. After that I went back to my room in the Regimental Headquarters.

In my youth, our household had fowls and animals and whenever I went on vacation, my brothers entrusted me the task of slaughtering. I think I did a good job of it as Amma, a stickler regarding the way the meat is cut, was pretty happy about my job. That was why I was sure that I will do a smart job of slaughtering the animal – if my mother could not find anything wrong – I was damn sure no one on earth could.

By 11 AM, our Havildar Major knocked at my door and reported that the sheep was stewing in the pressure cooker and I need not return to the battery at 12 Noon.