Gratitude to four-legged

Along with the formation commander, I stood next to the Army Commander at the polo ground before sunrise in June 2015, awaiting the arrival of the then Raksha Mantri (RM), Manohar Parrikar, whose helicopter had landed minutes before.

I then commanded the Remount Veterinary Corps Centre and College (RVC C&C). Its ground was chosen for organising the first International Yoga Day. The overall responsibility was assigned to the command headquarters, and troops from all the Army units in Meerut were to participate.

When the Army Commander introduced me, the RM said he would visit our establishment sometime. He then asked, “What can we do for the old Army animals who are put to sleep?” Realising that a lengthy discussion was not possible, I replied, “Sir, I came here on posting from the Army Headquarters and and there we had proposed three options for managing such animals.” I briefly mentioned the options and added that the case must be under consideration somewhere in the channel. RM Parrikar, in a genial manner, said “something like pension” needed to be done.

As they got old, working animals in the Army were checked for their fitness for duty. Those found unfit for performing their duties for a month were put to sleep humanely by veterinary officers. For horses and mules, it was a legacy from the British Indian Army days. When dogs were introduced in the Army in the early 1960s, they too met the same fate. At the early stage of my career, I’d seen how pathetic their handler-soldiers felt on such occasions.

They first dug graves. Then they gathered the available flowers from the surrounding vegetation in the forward areas. They made garlands and offered the last feed to the ill-fated, and finally garlanded them. Their sobbing and wailing at times would be heartbreaking and devastating. We might call the termination of animal-lives ‘humane’, but it is we humans who have coined this term; for them, it meant an abrupt and unnatural end of life, a life in which they gave their all in the service of our nation.

Alongside the troops, the animals face the vagaries of weather and terrain. They save precious lives of troops from mines and explosives. They ferry ammunition and provisions for the troops in treacherous areas. In insurgency-hit areas and at higher altitudes, the Army animals are the lifeline. The military authorities shower them with awards, year after year. We owe them a lot.

Earlier, in 2014, when I was posted as Additional Director General at AHQ, we had received numerous queries about the old Army animals being put to sleep. Our higher office, the Quarter Master General (QMG) Branch, sought our suggestions for ending the practice. We suggested one, but were asked to suggest multiple options. The case file was then re-submitted. The then QMG, being an ardent animal-lover, held this matter very close to his heart. But the tardy progression of cases had turned us into sceptics.

After the RM’s visit, the issue was soon forgotten. Not even three months had elapsed when we received sanction for establishing a rehabilitation centre at RVC C&C for all Army dogs who outlive their services. For such horses and mules, another establishment was chosen.

The rehabilitation centre was soon operationalised and we welcomed the first garlanded veteran canine there. This time the handler-soldier too held his head high as his buddy was not to be buried, but was to lead his remaining life in dignity, with the well-earned “something like pension”.