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Moments with the Field Marshal

It was the Second World War. In Burma, leading a valiant counter-offensive against the invading Japanese, young Captain Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw was shot in the stomach many times, and given up for dead.

Fortunately for him, Major General D.T. Cowan, seeing traces of life, quickly pinned his own Military Cross Ribbon on to the chest of the barely alive soldier (Military Crosses are not awarded to dead soldiers). This soldier lived to become the Army c hief in 1969 and India’s first Field Marshal in 1973. He was honoured with the Padma Bhushan in 1968 and the Padma Vibhushan in 1972.

As the wife of a defence officer, I had the opportunity of meeting this war hero on several occasions. The first time, it was a lecture on leadership qualities that he had come to deliver at the Defence Services Staff College, Wellington. As a rare concession, the women had been invited to hear him speak. As his car rolled into the porch of the lecture hall, there was a collective clicking of heels and stiffening of the spines of the officers present. Manekshaw had that effect on people. He stepped out, immaculately and impressively clad in his Field Marshal’s regalia, complete with a baton under his arm, and strode into the auditorium. What followed was a rollicking hour of anecdotes from the man whose rich and varied army experience included the Second World War, Partition, the Indo-Pakistan wars, and appointment as Army Chief in 1969. He was the leader of an Army that forced the unconditional surrender of Pakistan and the liberation and birth of Bangladesh.

The Field Marshal coined the celebrated adage (hugely quoted by the Gurkha Regiment to which he belonged) — “If anyone tells you he is never afraid, he is a liar or a Gurkha!” His rapport with Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, his run-ins with the less suave and sophisticated members of the government, his frequent irritation at being referred to as ‘Shyam Babu’ by some Ministers, and some more colourful tales about them made up his lecture.

The next time I saw the Field Marshal was at his home. I had gone to interview him for The Owl, the inhouse magazine of the Defence Services Staff College (DSSC). He showed us around his home (Stavka). In his bedroom, atop a cupboard sat a row of Barbie dolls. The Field Marshal promptly explained: “I always wanted to play with dolls. When I was young, my mom wouldn’t allow me to, then my wife came along, and I still was not allowed to. Finally, I told myself, ‘now I am the Field Marshall, I will damn well do as I please and went and got myself the dolls!’ ” Sam Manekshaw married Siloo in 1939. When she died in 2001, those who knew him in Wellington observed that only then did he begin to show his age.

He did the Staff Course when the Staff College was still at Quetta (presently in Pakistan) and also served as an instructor there. He then became the commandant of the DSSC at Wellington. He settled down at Stavka in Coonoor, Wellington, with his faithful Gurkha, Sul Bahadur, caring for him.

Age lessened the frequency of his visits to the College, but he still made it a point to attend important functions at DSSC, including the Navy Queen Ball where the Navy Queen has the privilege of having her first dance with the Field Marshal. That was the third time I met the Field Marshal and, when I asked him hesitantly if I could have a photograph taken with him, he promptly exclaimed, “Of course, sweetheart,” and obliged.

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