When the kitchen garden turned battlefield
Not so long ago, there was news on the opening up of roads in cantonments across the country. Faujis are obviously not happy about this because they are fiercely protective of their environment. You only have to drive into any cantonment to see the difference from the rest of the city. A prime example is New Delhi, where the cantonment is cleaner and greener than any other part of the national capital, including Lutyens’ Delhi.
Horticulture plays an important part in the layout of military units. So, you will have nicely laid out flower beds in the office area, quarter guard and officers’ mess. Well laid out kitchen gardens are also part of the unit.
Way back in 1964, my regiment was raised in Ramgarh near Ranchi. The regiment had an outstanding, tough commanding officer. The secondin-command (2IC) was a superseded major from West Bengal. The others consisted of a few regular officers and 15 second lieutenants who had six months of training before they were commissioned.
The top management set up a hot pace for everyone. One day, the 2IC announced that there will be an inter-battery kitchen garden competition. He set a two-week deadline. Some of the batteries already had a kitchen garden but mine didn’t. The officiating battery commander was Capt Inder Singh, a downto-earth soldier. All hell broke loose because our battery was the senior most serving the artillery element of the army. Coming second was not an option. The senior JCO, subedar Kishen Lal, was a veteran who had fought the Burma campaign. He got on the job with alacrity.
The first part was to lay out an immaculate patch as the kitchen garden. The Ahirs are natural farmers and it was done. Next, the technical assistants of the battery divided the patch into patches with straight dividers, using the artillery director instrument. They wrote out beautifully calligraphed signposts indicating the name of the vegetable in a particular patch. Since there was no time to sow seeds, it was decided to put in something resembling a seedling in the patches.
The day of reckoning dawned and the 2IC came for the inspection. He was impressed by the immaculate layout with all the signboards. He looked around trying to show some knowledge of horticulture but did not know much. He asked Capt Inder Singh what was planted in a particular patch. Inder Singh confidently told him that it was gonglu (Punjabi for turnip). That stumped the 2IC but he decided not to show his lack of knowledge. He nodded and told Inder that it was a good show.
He went to the other batteries that had real vegetables planted but did not like the layout. He told them to take a leaf out of our battery. We were declared winner.
Having won the competition, the next worry was to get some real produce out of the kitchen garden. Luck always favours the brave. Shortly thereafter, the regiment received movement orders to a field area and the kitchen garden was forgotten.
In the army, we are taught to win whether it’s a battlefield or the kitchen garden. If you don’t have the wherewithal, the answer is jugaad (innovation).
THEY WROTE OUT CALLIGRAPHED SIGNPOSTS INDICATING THE NAME OF THE VEGETABLE IN A PATCH