Bonhomie of purpose

Col Avnish Sharma (retd)

The Railways and the Army have a pan-India presence. The latter heavily dependent on the former for movement of its personnel and equipment, and the former for the substantial revenue it earns in the bargain. Both have a profile and culture that spells ‘unity in diversity’. The other day, while seeing a military special train transporting a tank regiment, I was reminded of varied experiences that one encountered during service with the Railways.

As a newly commissioned officer travelling to join the regiment for the first time, proudly dressed in uniform and carrying the trademark box and a bedding, I was seen off at the Ambala railway station by my parents. Thinking the train would wait for me, I was in for a rude shock, we were 10 minutes late. I approached the railway office for help. The station superintendent offered to book me on the following train the next morning. My joining the regiment late was unacceptable to me. Realising the gravity of the situation, he was on the phone to ascertain the location of the train. He gave out some instructions on the ‘heavy duty’ instrument, a virtual Graham Bell original, and turned towards me, ‘Lieutenant saheb, if you can catch the train at the next station in half an hour, we will be pleased to get you on board.’

The Commanding Officer of my unit was a stickler for punctuality and the timely favour laid the bedrock of our lasting relationship. During one of our permanent moves from one station to another, I was the officer in charge of the special train allotted to my regiment to ferry tanks, vehicles, soldiers and their families. The journey, though overnight, was to be covered in over two days, since such routine moves are not accorded priority over mail and express trains. I was woken up by the night sentry, ‘Saheb, Sowar Rampal’s wife is experiencing labour pains.’ We were in the middle of nowhere. I got through to the driver on our improvised ‘one-to-one’ phone and shared the dilemma with him. He stopped the train at the next lay-by and asked me to despatch a man to the next station to get medical help. Meanwhile, the driver chugged along and made an unscheduled stop at the next nondescript, desolate station. The boy was thereafter named Lunkaransar Singh, after his place of birth.

Once, proceeding to Ahmadnagar, we were unable to load my new motorcycle. I was advised to approach the luggage office fellow along with a bottled gift (considered to have the power of a dollar). I was apprehensive, but the moment we got down at our destination, I was surprised to find it parked on the platform, the man waiting to hand it over to me for a similar gift. One wondered was it sheer professionalism or the power of the ‘dollar’ that the bike was transported in a super fast, whereas we travelled by a mail train.

Long live the bonhomie between these two lifelines of the nation.

Join Whatsapp Channel of The Tribune for latest updates.