The undying allure of military fables

My maternal grandfather Lieutenant M Dharmalingam had an array of military stories in his repertoire which he shared with us. He saw action in World War II when Indians fought under the imperial flag against the Axis powers that included Germany, Italy and Japan. The war came at a terrible cost and thousands of lives - both civilian and military - were lost on both sides.

As he was engaged in war duty in places as distant as Rangoon, Peshawar and Cairo, my grandfather would be away from home for long periods with the family blissfully unaware of what was happening on the war front. There were strict protocols in place and the fate of war casualties was kept a closely guarded secret by the regiment and disclosed only after the conclusion of the war.

Once my maternal grandfather was summoned for war duty in Egypt. Two battleships sailed out from the Madras port towards the Suez Canal. While in the high seas, a bomber belonging to the Axis forces swept overhead and managed to sink one of the battleships.

Getting wind of the news many anxious relatives thronged the Records Office of the Madras Regiment located in Bengaluru seeking details of the dead but were forced to return empty-handed given the strict disclosure norms in place. Grandfather's fate remained unknown too but mercifully his ship survived and he got to Cairo in one piece.

There were other tales too but this is gruesome. Once during a fierce hand to hand combat that ensued in Cairo one of the Allied soldiers was captured, his head severed from the body and the same was prominently displayed as a trophy right in the middle of a street circle. One also learns that the battle-weary troops would entertain themselves by playing soccer with a skull of a dead soldier.

After the war concluded and the soldiers returned home by rail they were accorded a hero's welcome. Regimental bands played ceremonial music and the valiant war heroes were garlanded and welcomed back by eager friends and relatives. While many were glad to see their loved ones alive and kicking after years of fighting, yet others were distraught for obvious reasons - their kin had been martyred. The scene at the railway station was an uneasy mixture of joy and sorrow.

War-weary, Lieutenant Dharmalingam put in his retirement papers at the age of 45 in 1946 but had to respond to the call of duty yet again in the late 1940s as he was asked to assist the army in quelling disturbances that broke out post-independence in some parts of the country. He served the emergency period of one year and returned home never to go back.

My grandfather who served in the Madras Regiment Centre was provided with a large family accommodation by his regiment in Jalahalli, Bengaluru. The Italian prisoners of war were housed in the nearby barracks.

They were placed under the supervision of a Subedar Major and marched out every morning to carry out assorted duties like levelling and clearing uneven pathways, digging trenches, building barracks, laying bridges and roads and extricating harmful reptiles that posed a danger to life and limb. The POWs would also entertain spectators with their football skills by playing friendlies with the local clubs at the Parade Grounds. We never grew tired of listening to these wonderful military stories.

-N J Ravi Chander