 2nd Sikh at Wagha Border (Amritsar District)
January 26 1998
 Chandra Kanta Gariyali, IASOne of the requirements for training in the Indian Administrative Service used to be a month long attachment with the army. I had to do my army attachment with a battalion called the 2nd Sikh.
The 2nd Sikh is one of the oldest and proudest battalions in the Indian army. It has a long history of valour and tenacity. The legend is that after Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the Lion of Punjab and the last autonomous ruler of Punjab died, his kingdom was usurped by the British. The 2nd Sikh was constituted by the British from the best and bravest of Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s army. It is also one of the richest battalions in terms of the enormous quantities of gold, silver, decorations and medals it possesses. It is a heritage battalion with a history and culture of its own.
During our army attachment, 2nd Sikh was in the field at Wagha border. The border divides India and Pakistan and cuts United Punjab into two. The actual line of command divides Amritsar District from the Lahore District (Lahore is only a few miles away from
Wagha).
The 2nd Sikh had braved the 1970-71 war with Pakistan at Wagha border facing bombardments and living in bunkers. In 1972 it was still in the war zone. Officers and soldiers lived in underground bunkers in war conditions. The Officer's Mess was still in a bunker. However, a part of it had moved to a tent on top of the bunker after the cease-fire.
My fellow officers, Badal and Anita Das, a newly married couple, Tajuvar Rehman and myself, all from the Madhya Pradesh cadre, took a train from Dehradun to Saharanpur and another from Saharanpur to Amritsar. We were met by a young handsome captain who loaded us in an army truck and drove us away to Wagha, the erstwhile war zone.
All along, the captain was very apologetic about the inadequacies of the hospitality which they could provide to ladies. In the history of the battalion, they had never received women in the field. We assured him that we had come to live shoulder-to-shoulder with the soldiers and intended to rough it out in sleeping bags and bunkers.
On our arrival, we were pleasantly surprised to see that Tajuvar and myself were given a beautiful newly pitched tent with cots, soft mattresses, clean sheets and pillows. It also contained a wooden cupboard to hang our ladylike outfits. What really moved me was that they had also managed to get a dressing table for us (women cannot live without looking into mirrors).
So much for living in bunkers! We later realised that the battalion had gone through a lot of excitement at the prospect of receiving women officers and had gone to great lengths to plan a proper reception and accommodation for us. As per army custom, Tajuvar and myself were given a bedman, each of whom were like butlers and personal orderlies rolled into one. In the mornings they were very reluctant to enter our tents and bring us ‘chota haziri’ etc. They were constantly in confusion whether to treat us as men or women.
 The food in the makeshift mess was superb. We spent our evenings there chatting amiably with chivalrous and brave officers about the glories of the 2nd Sikh or learning about their adventures in the recent war. During the day, we exercised with the jawans and learnt about the duties of subedars and hawaldars, took part in drills and exercises, learnt the use of weapons and hand-to-hand combat.
We roamed the country side in camouflaged vehicles, rode the anti-aircraft gun carriers and tanks and went on de-mining operations. We also visited arms and ammunition stores and paid courtesy calls to the Gorkha battalions which were in the vicinity.
The officers were a bit upset that they could not show us their wealth and treasures which had been stored in a ware house for safe keeping, since the out-break of the war.
Eventually, we managed to pay a visit to the ware house. We saw the best of their table silver in which they ate on ceremonial occasions. The shields and the cups won. The gifts from the retiring officers and legacies from the families of the deceased officers. There was thousands of kilos of silver, some of it gold embossed, to be reckoned with. There were also two Victoria Crosses showing the antique status of the battalion. All this history and the laurels of the battles won, kept the battalion going through the war and during peace.
Your battalion is where you belong, your home is where you go for your leave. It had a deep meaning for every member of the battalion. Officers treated their jawans like their children. Though there was strict discipline there was also a deep love and respect. The welfare of soldiers was the abiding concern of the officers. The rare ‘Bada-khana’ in which everyone participated was a cherished event.
One day, we were driven all the way to Amritsar to see the Golden Temple, one of the holiest places of India. We had a holy dip in the temple tank and went to see the gold on the temple towers. The legend is that the gold on the temple and the golden gates around, was originally looted by Muhammad Gauri and Muhammad Ghazni from the Somnath Temple. After hundreds of years, Maharaja Ranjit Singh retrieved the gold from the Afghans with a wish to restore it to the Somnath temple. The temple having been plundered eighteen times, the priests of the temple expressed their inability to protect it and asked the Maharaja to keep it.
The noble Maharaja then ordered the gold to be plated on the towers of the Amritsar Gurudwara and the golden gates to be erected around it. This was an important part of the history of the 2nd Sikh since their origin in Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s army.
We also visited the Jallianwala Bagh where General Dyer massacred innocent people. The signs of bullets can still be seen on the walls. We also saw the well into which hundreds of people fell in the mellee. We visited the houses down the street and met descendants of some of the martyrs. It was really a heartbreaking experience for all of us.
We stayed with the 2nd Sikh till the beginning of January 1973 and celebrated New-Year's eve with them. The New Year’s eve was a great occasion for the army. The whole command was celebrating together in Amritsar with a grand ball, tambola and the
Bada-khana.
For once we got the chance to get out of the army fatigues and put on our girlie clothes. Driving through 70 miles of dust and grime I reached Amritsar with unkempt hair and duly covered by dirt. Notwithstanding that, when the grand ball started the commanding officer of the Northern command of India, bowed to me and asked me for the first dance. (It is a ritual that the senior most officer goes to the floor first followed by other officers in order of rank). I am not a dancer but I had no choice as it was supposed to be an honour. I tried to waltz up and down the big hall, keeping pace with the huge burly man.
After the first dance, I sat through the evening sipping my lemonade, playing tambola (which I managed to win most of the time), eating the best army grub and basking in the chivalry and attention of the gallant officers for the last time, till 1973 was ushered in.
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