Rohtas- the little story I will cherish for ever

Rose Dawson told Brock Lizzy and staff – It has been 84 years and I can still smell the fresh paint… that was titanic; the ship of dreams. Not much different from Rose, it has been 50+ years and I can still smell the aroma of the ‘mitti’ (soil) of our unit PT ground where my humble ‘journey of a lifetime’ began way back in 1975.

Memories of those early, care-free and halcyon days with a singleton pip on each shoulder shone brightly are ‘dearer than life’. Little stories, little incidents reflective of an untold bond with the ‘men cast in gold’ we served with, come to mind often. It is only rare when one such old story gets ‘real’ decades later – nostalgia breaches the dam then! Such is the story of Rohtas.

Rohtas finally faded away from the Army as a Subedar (a Junior Commissioned  Officer) much before Rohtas became Subedar Rohtas, this story began.

I remember Rohtas was a ‘gabru-jawan’ a young 19-20 Haryana lad, a bundle of energy, power, stamina… all at their cloud 9 level. Rohtas was in the Quebec (Q) battery of the regiment. (a regiment has three batteries of men; Papa, Quebec and Romeo standing for P, Q and R respectively).

My Regiment (48 Air Defence Regiment) was a ‘pure class unit,’ wherein, the Rajputs warriors of Papa, competed with Veer Ahirs of Quebec and the righteous Pandits of Romeo. Each one upholding the honour of their class and creed till the last drop of blood – battery Izzat was SUPREME. This competition that embraced everything from sports to profession to administration was always healthy and in best of regimental spirit.

The golden crown jewel that the boys used to live and die for was the Inter Battery Championship Banner; only the best would carry it amidst tooth-and-nail competitions spread over a whole year.

Those were the days when we youngsters were also, only years apart from our young jawans – the kind Rohtas was. With blood on the boil and wearing our unit izzat on our shoulders, we thought no end of ourselves.

During Inter Battery Cross Country ( an annual competitive race against time over a long distance of 8-10 km – a major event counting for the inter-battery championship), I used to see Rohtas in lead with his battery brethren and giving a literal ‘run-for-their-money’ to other battery competitors trying to out-do one another. It was difficult to cross him, I had experienced many times. Rohtas was a ‘flying horse’.

Then there was the Regimental Athletic Competition where I remember Rohtas shining brightly as a budding star. Whether it was a 100 m sprint or 200 m or the obstacle run, he used to be unstoppable. He was a real asset of the Veer Ahirs and envy for others.

Time rolled, years piled, life moved on. After an initial short stint in the unit, I left on my professional journey to attend the coveted Long Gunnery Staff Course (LGSC) – a mere 4-year service, but chest swelling 46” – first officer of the unit to do the first LGSC where selection was by competition.

Memories of boys we served with remained etched in mind though other things kept taking centre stage at different points in life.

The memory of Rohtas and other men kind of receded. The same got revived every time, I returned to the unit for one more tenure; as a Battery Commander, as a Second-in-Command and finally as the Commanding Officer. The young firebrand had now matured into a senior person, enthusiastically on his way up. Command of unit finished –a dream finished. I bade goodbye to the boys.

Fast-forward a 22+ years. It was the year of the Lord 2022. Our Regiment was celebrating its Diamond Jubilee. A large number of old soldiers were invited. One had the honour to attend. It was a bright sunny day. The unit had organised a welcome Luncheon at the JCO Mess. There were ‘pyar-ki-Jhappis’ as oldies greeted their comrades in tight hugs.

Many old stories were re-told and old episodes re-lived as nostalgia filled the air. Officers and men were re-uniting in joy and bliss – many cheers were happening for the old-time-sake! That one has joined the police, that one is now in BJP, so and so’s son is now a major in the Army… there was celebration in the air.

I was moving around having the time of my life connecting with old buddies, my sahayak, my signal NCO, my driver …oh my God! how I wished the time stopped till I did all my hugs and hand-shakes! In the midst of this good time, I remember turning across a row of chairs when I heard the voice from behind – ‘Saab Jee’. I turned back and instantly ran towards the man in the chair.  “Rohtas’!  I shouted in joy. The next moment, I saw Rohtas leap forward. We were in a tight hug; a thousand memories got re-visited in a matter of seconds.

Still in embrace, I heard a young boy, who stood next to Rohtas’s chair shouting in dismay – Arrey, Papa bina chadi ke khade ho gaye? (Oh Dad got up without support!). I saw there were two crutches leaning on the handrest of the chair where Rohtas sat. I realised that Rohtas’s legs had some problem, a feeling of pain pierced my heart.

Before I could utter anything Rohtas’s voice rang the air telling his grandson.‘Sir se milne ke liye chadi nahi dil chahiye’ (to meet Sir, crutches are not required, heart is required)

There was no more space for words. Two old soldiers hugged in nostalgia. There were tears in four eyes – two mine; two Rohtas’s.

Long live the bond between officers and men – the backbone of our armed forces.