TWO RAISING DAYS

 

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

 

15/XI/2025

 

My battalion is celebrating its 44th raising day today in the icy heights of Ladakh in the Northern sector. A Mechanised battalion with BMPs and what have you, in the icy cold weather which would soon be a frozen frontier soon. Hats off brothers.

 

I wish them the very best, not only to the serving but to the veterans and all those who were ever associated and affiliated to the Battalion since its raising in 1982. 

 

I too was a part of that journey and a very memorable one at that. By the way it is the same place, probably under the same formation I had served in on deputation way back in the year 1990-91.

 

Being from an extreme OG unit, with SOPs and drills for even keeping a paper weight. We used to believe in rehearsals, practice, and repeat. The final act had to be executed with precision and timing. It didn’t matter if it took sleepless nights to achieve it.

 

Yours truly was deeply involved with both the Battalions in their raising day celebration as I was a pip squeak in the good old Jaisalmer days and a young Captain with the Vikasis. What could those stars on your shoulders do was no one's business. 

 

From a rag tag group of people, we extracted the best of talent and put up such a wonderful cultural programme in 1985, that each moment is fresh like yesterday.

 

A Tambi doing Bhangra, A Jat singing a Ragni, a Thapa playing a lead role in a skit, an Oriya doing mimicry of officers and JCOs was at its best. Rum flowed like a mountain stream behind the scenes. Thank God the curtains were drawn before the whole entertainment party went bonkers.

 

The unit Pipe Band under Hav Thapa played melodies of the British era with the same ease as they played Indian melodies and Pahari songs on their bagpipes. “Bheru Pako Barah Masa….” was one of my favourites.

 

The same chaps would transform into a Jazz Band with bow ties and Kamar bands playing “Come September” on 15 November to get our feet tapping and rushing to twist on the dance floor. Ladies were sport and we danced till we dropped. Mess party started at 8pm and continued till the sun rose.

 

Chou sir with his non stop film oldies was a favourite and a lady charmer before getting married. I am sure he still remains as vibrant with the fairer sex. Ladies singing songs and acting in a skit wearing army uniforms, Doc Koshy on his guitar. Mrs Koshy singing ‘Jambalaya’ from the ‘Carpenters’ in the most melodious voice. 

 

The traditions continued when I visited the paltan a couple of years back.

 

Liquor used to flow like water. I hope it still flows the same way. In High Altitude chota-chota to banta hai. The Tiger used to lead the drinking brigade, God bless his soul. The Lamb used to follow. The Lion broke all records. The Panther used to be on his own grid.

 

Saklani Sir and Khampi mam’s would sing “Raat biwi se mera jhagra hua…. And the duet “Hans ke bola karo bulaya karo” a Gazal which was the icing on the cake. The culmination used to be Satrah ka Parivar Hamara sung in unison by all those who could sing (which were a few) and the others like me who just could not sing.

 

However, Nandu (MA English) would help me write the MCs script in English for a Saikapian who was on the relegation warning list in NDA for the subject. Thanks bro.

 

Lion could play the drum set and puncture the Bongos with one slap. Our blood used to transform into alcohol by reveille. The taste of venison barbeque is still fresh.

 

Let me also give you a glimpse of the raising day in High Altitude I celebrated while on deputation. The troops were sons of the soil. The colder it got more active they became. 

 

Like a good Adjt of that Bn, I asked the SA saab.  “Gra-sgrig ga-’dra ’gor-gyi yod-pas”? How are the preparations going on? First class saab, he would reply. Where would be the programme, he would smile and say, saab aap bas enjoy karo and walk away. I would be under tension, Satrah mech blood after all and they were cool as cucumbers. 

 

Their Jazz Band was like  the Rock Band called Dire Straits. They sang like them as well. Tibetan dresses were issued to officers. Wearing a “chuba” was not as easy. After every party which used to ‘company wise’, every officer including the CO used to be brought to his basha on a stretcher.

 

Who used to change the clothes, who fired the Bukhari, who left a thermos full of nimbu pani, God only knows. For us officers, it was eat, drink and make merry. The same used to happen on Losar, the Tibetan new year.

 

I am sure times have changed now. With the ‘narrow eyed’ people breathing down our necks, things would be more mellow.

 

Wishing the Paltan Har Maidan Fateh. God Bless my paltan always.

 

🇮🇳JAI HIND🇮🇳

Happy Raising Day dear Seekers.

 

NOEL