The Brigade Commander ('The Commander' in Army lingo) gazed at me with an expression that was a mix of irritation and curiosity.
Standing to savdhan in The Commander's office my mind went into flashback for a moment.
On that day three months back . . .
Subedar Munshiram, the senior JCO had the air of a Socrates at his The 'Eureka' moment.
"Sahab surplus ration ration apne phamily member ko sale karke jo paisa aayega usse mixie le lete hain"
(Sir, let's sell the surplus ration to our 'family members' and buy a mixie with the proceeds).
After all the troops of my tiny sub-unit were as much entitled to their Idlis and Dosas as M Karunanidhi. P Chidambaram or Amma were to theirs, no?
I would show my men that their new kaptaan sahib was a real go-getter.
A noting sheet to HQ complete with 'Background of the case', 'Proposal', 'Justification' and 'Financial effect' employing my best military writing skills was promptly drafted and despatched to HQ.
As a young captain placed in command of a little detachment of sixty men, I had much to yet learn about military bureaucracy.
In the three months - that had elapsed since my beautifully drafted noting sheet had first gone to HQ, if there was one thing that soon was clear to me, it was that headquarters have tight purse strings when sub-units ask for funds. The noting sheet had been traversing the channel of Army unit bureaucracy in both directions.
A stream of 'observations' were unleashed by HQ :
"How was the requirement being met so far?"
"How was the cost estimate arrived at?"
"Had a board of officers been constituted to determine the lowest price?"
"Why was the procurement not being done through the CSD?"
"Why had the requirement not been included in the Annual Procurement Plan for Annual Contingency Grant"
It was truly exasperating.
OC would listen to my 'follow-up' phone calls patiently and promise to ". . . do something soon . . . " - which as I learnt soon enough was Army bureaucratese for "I will forget it the moment you get off the phone"
It was then that Subedar Munshiram, the senior JCO came up with the Eureka idea.
We had quintals of 'surplus' rice and sugar in the ration store. Our 'family' men (personnel who lived on base with families) would be willing to buy this ration at concessional prices and we could thereby raise the money needed for the mixer-grinder.
I was aware of this surplus that had built up over a period of time. Rations were authorised to all troops as per a certain fixed scale. While the 'family' men took home their authorizations from the ration store, the 'single' mens' rations were collectively issued to the unit cook-house. The quantity of ration that we collected from the supply depot was as per the scale of rations authorized to each man. An average jawan could not possibly consume all the atta, rice, sugar. dal and refined oil that he was authorised. Thus the accumulation of a surplus of rations that had been charged off the books but had not been actually consumed was inevitable. The rules catered for this eventuality and said that surplus rations should be taken back on ledger charge and less rations drawn to that extent the next month. The problem was that if we did that the local audit officer would demand an explanation for 'not providing the troops with adequate nourishment'.
I was to later discover that such catches-22 abounded in The Army. The auditor who was there to check for correct accounting of government funds and resources did not like it when we followed the rules!!
Munshiram's idea seemed to resolve the conundrum perfectly. Selling off government rations in this manner was 'highly irregular' I knew. Yet there was no ethical dilemma in my mind. What I was doing was 'welfare of troops..." There was no selfish or dishonest motive. Wasn't it my duty to see to their welfare? And after all . . . it was surplus stock . . . not on the books.
And so the deed was done ... the rations sold and the mixer-grinder purchased! And I . . . was one self-satisfied officer that day . . . convinced that I had lived up to the second line of the Chetwode Credo inscribed in the oak panelling at the Eastern entrance to The Chetwode Hall at The Indian Military Academy :
"The safety, honour and welfare of your country come first, always and every time
The honour, welfare and comfort of the men you command come next
Your own ease, comfort and safety come last, always and every time."
Days passed without event and then one morning an olive-green Maruti Gypsy drove up to the unit gate. The red plate on the front announced that the vehicle bore The Officer Commanding. With the minimum of security fuss, the vehicle was let in and drove in to pull up in front of the main office building. It Lt Col S____ , The OC who was my immediate boss and Capt A___ , The Administrative officer! I was a bit taken aback because The OC had driven down over 50 Km from his headquarters and it was most unusual for him to be coming on a visit to a sub-unit thus unannounced! The OC cursorily returned my salute and walked past me into my office followed by Capt A. There was a distinct lack of the usual warmth and I could clearly sense that all was most certainly not well.
Sitting across from me, OC extracted a sheet of paper from an envelope and placing it on the desk, motioning to me to read. I picked it up and read.
It was a photocopy of a typed complaint addressed to the Corps Commander alleging that
" . . . government rations meant for troops were being sold in the unit . . ."
It was signed "Bahadur Gumnaam Sipahi" - (Brave Anonymous Soldier). The oxymoron did strike me but I checked myself from making a tongue-in-cheek remark about the bahadur sipahi who was too scared to put his name down on the complaint. I sensed that OC wasn't in a mood for wisecracks. Bahadur Sipahi went on to allege that Munshiram had pocketed the proceeds of the sale. Looking up I met his stern questioning glance.
I stalled for a moment to consider what to say, but then found myself blurting out, "This is true Sir. I ordered it. However Munshiram has NOT pocketed anything. I have supervised the entire process and the money has been accounted for"
OC was apparently not expecting a blunt admission of guilt and looked taken aback.
"Why?" seemed to be the only word he could utter.
Having regained my composure, I explained the matter and took him to the cook-house to show him the 'mixie'.
After this he appeared somewhat mollified but then said I had to accompany him to The Brigade Commander . The Brigade Commander, Brigadier D____ had been asked by The Corps Commander to investigate the complaint - a 'one-man inquiry'.
I was asked to wait outside and then after a while was called in. . .
The tension was so palpable that one could have cut it with a knife. As I stood at savdhan, Brig D __ , 'The Commander' (Army lingo for 'Brigade Commander') - a bluff man with huge whiskers looked at me.
" Your OC says that you admit to having given orders for rations to be sold. Is that so?
"Yes Sir, That is so but . . ."
The Commander cut me short :
"Yes I know about the mixie and I appreciate the fact that you have owned up. That is what an officer is expected to do. You did not have a dishonest motive. Yet your act is highly irregular to say the least. Couldn't you have pursued the noting sheet for regimental fund to be approved?"
"Yes Sir. I could have but then there was also the problem of the accumulated surplus ration that had to be disposed off."
"Well I think it was a bad decision you took - if it was a question of surplus ration why couldn't you give it away to the 'family' personnel for free?"
Once again I found myself blurting out, "Permission to speak freely to The Commander sir?" The Brigadier nodded and then leaned forwards to listen.
"I beg to disagree that my decision was bad sir. Doing what "
The Brigadier looked visibly miffed "You disagree? Do you realise that you are admitting to have committed a major financial irregularity for which you are liable to be court-martialled?"
Then his expression changing from annoyance to curiosity, "Go on, tell me why you think I am wrong. And you'd better think on your feet son"
"Well Sir. The ration was authorised to the 'single' men. If any benefit accrues from it's sale then it is the 'single' men who should get it. Giving away the rations would have amounted to transferring the benefit of the 'single' men's rations to the 'family' men."
The Commander seemed to be mulling over this for a few seconds as he stared me in the eye. I knew I had crossed the barbed wire into the minefield and in all probability had stepped on a live mine. I braced for the mine to explode.
The Commander turned to The OC, his expression inscrutable "Who do you think is right
S- ? I or this young man"
The OC looked decidedly uncomfortable and was definitely wishing that The Commander's attentions would be bestowed back on me. Without waiting for an answer The Commander turned to me. He stared at me for a long moment and then burst out into a booming laugh.
"Sit down son" he said in an amiable tone, motioning to the chair next to The OC's. It was my turn to be taken aback. I had been preparing for the worst.
"Listen Raja Harishchandraji . . . " continued The Commander looking at me with most of the merriness still on his face.
"I am giving a written report to The Corps Commander that I have investigated the complaint and found no evidence of substance in it, It is an anonymous complaint and as per regulations no formal action is compulsorily mandated on such complaints. The matter therefore will die after I submit my report. "
"But before I do that I must be sure that you will not be a little less honest if you are asked about this by anyone else. No sale of rations ever took place in your sub-unit. Do you agree?" The Commander had an amused expression on his face.
"Nothing like that ever happened Sir" I replied.
I had told The OC and The Commander the truth. If The Commander desired me to deny it who was I - a lowly Captain to overrule him??
No comments:
Post a Comment