RAISING & REUNION DAY
LT COL NOEL ELLIS
16/XI/2022
It was on 15 November 1982, when a new concept within the Mechanised Infantry was born with the raising of a ‘specialised unit’ which I was a part of. Brick by brick, stone by stone, the founders built a force called the ‘SEEKERS.’
With one pip on the shoulder, I reached a God forsaken railway station called JA-SALE-MER aka Jaisalmer in summer of 1985, to form part of this elite force which specialised in Desert Warfare.
Not a Tibba, Toba, Talai, Nal, Sar, Dhora, Tibbi, Dhani, Basti, Gad, Khu and ‘r’ was not recced by us, in day and at night, on foot and on vehicles. We were the foxes of the deserts who could smell the enemy from far and could gnaw into his flesh like desert rats, biting his portions off from our deep holes and hides without him coming to know what hit him from where.
People trickled in from everywhere. The main contributors were the old Mech Units which proudly flew the flag of being ‘pure infantry’ regiments at one time. They were now stepping on the accelerator on the battlefield so that Infantry could have matching mobility and keep pace with other Mech forces.
We guys were a step ahead and a little different. This force was called the ‘Reconnaissance and Support Battalion.’ 17 was raised and trained to destroy the enemy before he even thought of crossing the border. We would seek him, detect him, stalk him, out manoeuvre him, lure him, trap him, divert him, and finally destroy him on a ground which we had recced over the years. ‘Chappa-Chappa’ of our operational area was known to us like the back of our hands.
‘Rajing Day’ was the most important day for all of us. A fair and fete of kinds was created in ‘nowhere land.’ There would be songs, skits, bhangra, fancy dress, and free flowing drinks of the darker shade. Chai Pakoras and barakhana, Darbar, Officer’s mess party & picnics would all be compressed in two or three hectic days. Practicing and rehearsals would take us to the wee hours of the morning.
There was no differentiation of caste, creed or state. A Tambi could do the Bhangra though not with the same ease as a Khalsa but Noel Ellis could choreograph it and shake a leg like Elvis on the dance floor in the Officer’s Mess.
For me personally the icing on the cake used to be the venison Bar-be-cue. It allowed one to swivel much better with the dancing shoes after throwing in an additional chota-chota down the oesophagus.
The unit ‘jazz band’ and ‘pipe band’ would go mad blowing into their bellows and strumming their off-note guitars. Tambourine and Bongos would be shredded to smithereens, when officers thought they could play better than the band master and would start playing instruments themselves after guests left the mess in ‘high’ state of readiness.
Things must have mellowed down now I suppose, unless people are still allowed to let their hair down once a while. More so, this is the time forces prepare for the ‘campaign’ season. Barracks are empty and Raising days are on the dunes with ‘night sights’ on, while on ‘exercise.’
Our unit turned forty this year. Seekers assembled at various places to commemorate the occasion. We too got together but for a different reason.
It has been sixteen years that one has been out of uniform. The year I hung my boots, there was this young Sepoy with about five years of service who helped us to finally pack and move to the Suncity to start a new life and begin a new innings.
I can proudly say that he is a Naib Subedar and going to be a Subedar on the first January. Though he is with another unit now but is doing so well in life. His achievements make my chest swell with pride. This soldier was so sincere in whatever task was assigned to him. His hard work and dedication have brought him to where he is today. May he rise to the highest rank achievable.
Our daughter still remembers him fondly and they are in touch. It was a reunion after sixteen years.
My wife and I decided to dedicate this day to thank him and show our gratitude. We were raised in the same battalion and have a bond which goes beyond words. If I say, he is part of our family, it would be an understatement.
Wishing every SEEKER, past and present a very happy fortieth raising day. May God Bless my paltan, who shout their war cry so proudly as ‘HAR MAIDAN FATEH.’ God Bless my paltan always. Good Luck and GodSpeed.
JAI HIND
© NOEL ELLIS
Comments
Post a Comment