From poor to good

Lt Gen Raj Kadyan (Retd)

AS a young Subaltern in our Regimental Centre in Delhi, I was routinely detailed as ‘duty officer of the week’.

One night, I cycled up to within 50 feet of the quarter guard undetected; those days entry was unrestricted. To my surprise, the number 1 sentry, who should be standing in the front courtyard, was not there. The treasury sentry was visibly surprised to see me enter without having been challenged outside. Even the guard commander, who should have been present, was not there. In any military establishment, a quarter guard is a barometer of its shipshapeness. I found great laxity. In the remarks column of the visitors’ book, I endorsed ‘poor’. It would render the guard commander liable for punishment.

The next morning, I saw a Subedar approach. The visitors’ book on the carrier revealed his intent. At the time I had three brothers serving in different battalions of the Regiment. The Subedar belonged to one of these. He heaped praise that the senior Kadyan has been the best Adjutant their battalion ever had. Then he came to the point. He admitted that the standard of the guard was indeed very poor, adding that the entire guard party was already doing ‘pack’ parade. Then, uncapping his pen, he asked me to change the ‘p’ to ‘g’ and ‘r’ to ‘d’, thus marking ‘poor’ as ‘good’. His subordinates may have let him down, but his loyalty was steadfast.

I was not convinced. I told him that the point was not ‘how’, but ‘why’ to make the change. After 15 minutes of trying, he gave up. But not before a final repartee: “Sahib, yeh kitab 14 saal purani hai. Guard kabhi pehle bhi zaroor kamzor payee gayee hogi. Lekin is mein ek bhi ‘poor’ nahin hai.”

Could I have been too theoretical in the application of rules? But I found consolation in recalling the Academy teaching that an officer should never let a mistake go unpunished.

Nearly 12 years later, I was 2IC of a battalion in a border state. One night I decided to carry out a surprise check. I reached the quarter guard last. Both sentries were hawk-watchful. Through a side window, I saw that the guard commander, though fully dressed and alert, was reclining against a bed post. It was minor and ignorable. But more to make an impact, I endorsed a ‘poor’ remark. The Adjutant, being a perfectionist, further tightened any loose ends.

A few months later, our annual inspection got scheduled. The Adjutant drew my attention to the ‘poor’ remark. The old repartee returned to haunt me. Was I too rigid in not listening to the JCO in 1965?

I told the Adjutant prescriptively, “The main purpose of punishment is corrective and not punitive. Resorting to punishment should never be the only or even the first option. Every case is unique and demands application of mind.”

Then I explained how to change ‘p’ to ‘g’ and ‘r’ to ‘d’!

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