7th PMA Long Course & 4th Pre-Cadet Training School

These articles posted by Yasir Saeed. You can learn best to read these articles. Introduction After attaining Independence, Pakistan Army, amongst other major problems, faced an acute shortage of officers. The bulk of the Army was officered by the British, who left at the time of Independence or soon thereafter leaving a great vacuum, particularly in the technical arms/services. Pakistan Military Academy (PMA) was established at Kakul (Abbottabad) and started training young cadets (known as Gentleman Cadets or simply GCs) to fill in the void. The course was of two year duration at PMA, and very soon six month training at Pre-Cadet Training School (PCTS) at Quetta was added on to provide a smooth break into the Army way of life. The course at PMA came to be known as the Long or Regular Course (to distinguish it from the Short or Graduate Courses which were of six months’ duration). Ours was the 7th PMA Long Course (and the 4th Pre-Cadet Course). In September 2000 we celebrated the Golden Jubilee of our induction into PCTS and in March 2001 we celebrated the Golden Jubilee of our joining PMA. Now we look forward to celebrating the Golden Jubilee of our commissioning into the Pakistan Army on 14th February 2003 – Insha Allah. 4th PCTS Preliminary We reported to PCTS at Quetta on 18 September 1950 and began our Army career. We were 123 Cadets – rather Pre-Cadets — to start with. On arrival at the school we were allotted school numbers that we wore on the sleeve of the uniform and the buckle epaulette of the shorts. This was an aid for easy recognition by the staff – particularly when any slackness was noted which warranted Extra Drill or some other punishment. Cadet Jamil Akhtar was soon to be the most conspicuous cadet – being No. 123. Our Course association, in fact, started on the train journey to Quetta. There had been heavy floods in Sept. 1950 and the regular train services had been disrupted. Our train to Quetta was rerouted from Campbellpur (now Attock) to Jand – Bassal – Kundian – Lakki Marwat and God knows where else. Consequently, a journey which used to take two days took us over three days. The route was desolate and sparsely populated. For meals one got only ‘chicken’ curry and roti. Very soon the word spread like wild fire that it was no chicken but crows that we were being served with! The initiators of the rumour backed it up with the irrefutable argument that how could one find chicken in places where there was no habitation. Soon the simpletons, who were in vast majority, refused to touch the chicken curry and the initiators of the rumour were heartily enjoying their meals as well as our share! Also travelling on the train was an elderly looking gentleman — Faizullah Khan Toru – who introduced himself as the Nawab of Toru (near Mardan NWFP) and let it be known all round that he was on his way to meet his dear friend Nawab of Kallat. During the entire journey he was regaling us with his Princely stories and an Englishman – Mr. Wright, who was also in the same compartment and taught English at the PCTS seemed to be impressed the most. On reaching the school, imagine the consternation that struck us all to find Faizullah in our midst as an ordinary mortal cadet. What went through the mind of Mr. Wright, who had been treating him all along with the respect and deference due to a Nawab, can only be imagined. Another incident occurred when, the train had rolled into a way ward station at night and some one queried as to where on earth we were, Nadir Khan Raja, sitting near a window, careened his neck out and managed to read the writing on the wall of a hut. “Gentlemen”, he announced, “we are at Bait-ul-Khula”. Break into Army Life The first dose of the army life we received on arrival at the school was when we were marched to the barber shop. It was a scene to be remembered. We were treated like a herd of sheep taken for shearing. Most of us were unrecognisable after the treatment. There were many wailing and lamenting over the lovely locks of their hair lying all over the floor. Well, thereafter, twice a week as long as we were at the PCTS and later at the PMA it was the same. Not a hair dared to peep out of our berets. I remember meeting Zafri (the famous left-in of Pakistan hockey team) at the barber shop. We exchanged pleasantries and on finding out that I was from Rawalpindi (Gordon College) he mentioned of a match he had played as Left-In for Bata Sports at Pindi. “But that was Zafri”, I pointed out to him. “I am Zafri”, he said. After the crow episode on the train, I wasn’t going to be easily taken in by such claims in a hurry. “Come on, you don’t look like Zafri” I told him earnestly. He cast a sad and melancholy glance at the locks of his hair spread on the floor and told me ruefully, “ You wouldn’t be saying that had you seen those hair on my head”. PCTS had a neat and small organization. Our Commandant was Lt Col (later Brig.) Gul Mawaz Khan, MC – a decorated, very impressive, smart and a professional soldier. The Chief Instructor was Maj (later Lt Gen) K M Azhar. There were four Platoons commanded by Maj Aslam, Capt Akhtar, Capt Nawab and Capt Nur-ul-Haq respectively. The coveted appointment of Adjutant was held by the most colourful of all Capt. Anwar. Physical Training Officer (PTO) was Capt Barkat. They were ably assisted by an appropriate number of Havildar Instructors (called Staff) for Drill and PT classes. In addition to the military staff we had also the Academic Staff. Some of the names that come to the mind are Dr. Qureshi (Maths), Maj Mukhtar (History) and Mr. Wright (English). We all owe our gratitude to these fine gentlemen and to our other instructors at the PCTS whose names I cannot recollect after half a century now, for the loving care, consideration and affection shown to us by all of them without exception and grooming us into what we became in later life. Our special thanks to them all. We were soon to learn that the Army hierarchy, as then prevailing belonged to two schools of thought. The first comprised those who had experienced World War II in Burma and the second who had fought in North African desert. Whereas the first school believed that the mosquitoes were the deciding factor in winning or losing a war and that all wars were won by observing anti- malaria precautions strictly; the second school was equally convinced that it was the water discipline which won the war. At the PCTS we were up against the first school of thinking. (water disciplinarians were to be encountered later in the PMA). Quetta, in late September and early October, is pretty cool and even the hardiest of the mosquitoes migrate to warmer climate. However, our mentors thought it otherwise. Anti-malaria precautions had to be meticulously observed. Full sleeve shirts after dusk, well tucked in mosquito nets to sleep in and anti-malaria cream applied to all exposed parts of the body. Another important and essential ingredient of the campaign was a heavy dose of mepacrine – malaria control tablets – for 21 days. The course was administered in the typical army fashion by holding daily parade for it. Each cadet was given the tablet and a glass of water. In the presence of the watchful Officer Platoon Commander (after the first week the Platoon Senior Cadet was entrusted with the job) the tablet was to be flung into the mouth, downed by water, after which the cadet had to show his empty palm and shout his name. This was to prove that the tablet was neither in his hand nor held in the mouth and had been successfully dispatched all the way to the stomach (how many tablets disappeared flung over the shoulder is another story). Mepacrine had a side effect of weakening of the body. Mr. Wright – an accomplished hiker — took us out to the Murdar hills on the very first Sunday. After effects of the strenuous exertion coupled with the heavy dose of mepacrine soon started taking its toll. A few cadets had to be hospitalised and one of them was even withdrawn later since he could no longer put up with the physical rigours of the training. General Environments We were housed in a portion of the CMH — which was BMH (British Military Hospital) in the pre-partition days — a five star accommodation as compared to the normal military barracks. The place was centrally heated with 24 hours running hot and cold water. Quetta suffered one of the coldest winters in 1950 but we used to roam in shorts and vest in our dormitories. Each dormitory had 25 to 30 cadets which afforded us the advantages (or were it the disadvantages) of community life. One of our colleagues had been given an ample supply of Kushta (a delicious and strong mixture of dried fruits fried in desi ghee) by his loving mom to help him combat bitter cold of Quetta. He would invariably get up at night after the “Lights Out” and with dexterity of a poacher open his box as quietly as possible and munch at the delicacy. One night, unfortunate for him, some one noticed him doing so. Next day, in his absence, a team of experts led by Afzal Warraich polished off the entire treasure. That night the commotion in our dormitory was worth seeing. The greatest protest by the aggrieved party was that “these blokes have not left any thing for me”.! Life at the PCTS was in general pleasant. There were no seniors to boss around. We were put into Khakis and issued a Green Blazer and Grey Flannel trousers as the walking out dress (Mufti). For dinner we had to be in Black Sherwani with all its seven buttons done including the collar hook. Food and rations were excellent, though some of us did not relish taking it with the knife and fork and observing strictly the table manners demanded of a cadet. We were paid the handsome amount of Rs. 35/= per month – the pay of a Sepoy in those days. It could carry us a long way and we never felt short of funds. Grapes were four annas a seer (4 kilos to a Rupee !!) We could easily afford to frequent the famous Stanley Café for coffee and cream roll – for less than a Rupee per head. We were allotted a cycle each with our Cadet No. painted on its rear mud guard. These were handy for visiting Quetta, besides being used for certain school organized “Brain Teasing” exercises known as the Snap Situations. Muhammad Hussain was a cadet from the interior of Tribal Area and had never ridden a bike. (Some alleged that he saw the two wheeler for the first time in PCTS !!). Special training classes in the afternoon had to be arranged not only for him but for all to learn the military art of riding a bike. The Drill for riding the bike had most certainly equestrian parentage. For first two days, like the horse, various parts of the cycle and their function were explained in some detail. Only one did not have to pat the handle of the cycle and offer gur at the end of the lesson as is done in the case of the horses. The cycle had an ON side and an OFF side, which varied depending whether you were right handed or a lefty. To commence the operation “riding”, one had to stand with his hands stretched straight and holding the handle of the cycle, which was positioned to your right or left depending upon your ambivalence (just like holding the reins of the horse before mounting it). On the word of command “Prepare to Mount”, one was required to push the cycle forward , tilt it a little away from the body, place left (or right) foot on the paddle and stand in mid- air at attention – Chest out Chin in looking straight ahead and all that soldierly stuff. Every cadet’s position and bearing was checked which seemed to take eternity, before the final word of command “Mount” was blared out. What to speak of poor Muhammad Hussain even the Olympian Cyclists found it difficult to keep their balance for such long and not tumble down to the Drill Square. However, soon Muhammad Hussain was riding his cycle, sitting always at attention – not looking left or right but straight in front in the true military style. Schedule of Work The routine at the PCTS was a good blend of schooling combined with an introduction to Army way of life. As the saying goes, there is a right way of doing a thing and there is a wrong way of doing a thing and, there is yet another way of doing a thing — the Army way. Initially we all thought it to be a strange way of doing things but as time went by, the sagacity of the Army way of doing things dawned upon us and we started realizing it to be the best way of doing a thing. However, one thing that I have not been able to figure out till today is why do we put the left foot out first while marching on parade?! May be some day I will become wiser on this count too. The day was divided in the morning Drill and PT periods on empty stomachs. Thereafter, a quick but hearty breakfast, followed by academic classes of English, Mathematics, History, Geography and a bit of General Science thrown in to add a little spice. How much did we learn is anybody’s guess. A breakfast full of calories (cereals, milk, two eggs – fried or omelettes, two toasts, 2 ounces of butter, jam, marmalade, honey and as many hot cups of tea that one could gulp down in race against time), after the strenuous Drill/PT acted as a powerful sedative and almost all of us found it real trying to keep our eyes open during the lectures. Good old Abdul Latif Latifi – may God rest his soul in peace — ameen, was a heavy young man who tipped the scales at 220 pounds. His cadet number was 52. Major Mukhtar was lecturing history and said that Napoleon died at the age of 52. Just to emphasize the young age at which Napoleon had died he repeated “52”, only this time a little loudly. Poor Latifi who was half asleep hearing “52” jumped to his feet thinking that the Instructor had asked him a question. “Sir, could you repeat the question please?” The confusion that ensued between Latifi and Maj. Mukhtar can only be visualized than described. The toughest job for the Drill Staff was posed by none other than Cadet M Z Ahmed (Moin-uddin Zia-uddin Ahmed) – intellectually a giant but physically a wreck! Whereas, God Almighty has so designed the human body that while walking ordinarily or marching on parade, the movements of the hand and leg are so synchronized that with the right foot forward the left arms stretches out, and with the left foot the right arm goes forward. But not so in the case of MZ Ahmed! The synchronization had gone haywire and his left arm would accompany his left foot forward and backward in unison and his right foot and right arm moved simultaneously together. A feat which only he could perform. It took the Drill Staff quite an effort to unlock this synchronization and make his left foot move with his right arm and the right foot with the left arm as all other human beings do. Evenings were occupied by games, or some other activity such as ‘snap situation’, cross country run etc. An interesting exercise used to be the ‘Treasure Hunt’. We were divided in small groups and issued with clues which lead to specified locations. At the third location (if you ever got that far) the clue to the ‘treasure’ was to be provided. In one such Treasure Hunt, our first clue was to proceed to where the Kings and Queens meet. Kings and Queens meet ?!! We scratched our heads near to baldness but did not have the foggiest idea where on earth the Kings and Queens met in Quetta. Ultimately, the wisest amongst us came up with the brilliant idea that the Kings and Queens could meet only at the Stanley’s Café – the most posh place in town. So, off we went to Stanley’s, cursing ourselves all the way as to why we could not think of such a simple answer ! Finding neither the Kings nor the Queens at the Stanley’s we decided to wait for ‘Their Majesties’ to arrive. To break the monotony of waiting, we ordered tea (of course with pastries and cream rolls – Stanley’s specialty). Just when our wait had started to become agreeable and we could see the waiter bringing the tea, in walked one of the Officer Platoon Commanders. Suffice it to say that we were surprised and he was astonished to see each other. He literally dropped a brick on each of our heads when he clarified that the Kings and Queens meet where the King’s Road meets the Queen’s Road near the Secretariat. (What a place for the ‘Royalty” to meet ?!) The next clue we got was ‘where the kites come home’. Well, we needed another Platoon Commander to put us wise that ‘kites’ were aeroplanes and ‘home’ was Sumungli airfield. We were on our way to the third location where if we had reached we would have learnt the location of the Treasure, when we ran out of time – 4 p.m. (or 1600 hrs in the military language). We rushed towards Blailey Railway Station – the designated place for the close of the exercise. (If you have made a guess, you are right. No one made it to the ‘Treasure’ and I am sure it is still there – buried under some desolate hillock or deep in a Karez near the Blailey Railway Station. Go and try your luck.) The final Cross Country run will probably live for ever in our memories. There was a fierce snow storm and the misnamed Kandhari breeze (actually emanating from Siberia and passing through Kandhar) was blowing at full blast. And here we were – over a hundred of us clad in PT kit though mercifully in jerseys, and ammunition boots running in the snow and blizzard. If only our mothers had witnessed this spectacle, I am sure, they would have sued the School authorities for violating the laws of ‘Prevention of Cruelty to Animals or Cadets as the case may be’. In fact it did happen in one case. We had a local cadet – Effendi – who had apparently been spotted by his parents that day. His father visited the School next day and registered his protest that such an exposure to cold could result in his son picking up pneumonia with fatal consequences. The School authorities sent him home after giving him solemn assurance in the military language, “Your son may die for any other reason. But rest assured we shall not allow him to die of pneumonia.” After reaching the School we were served with scalding hot milk with coco to drink. We held the army mugs with both hands close to the chest – to warm the hands and the chest also. Surprisingly, we found our jaws locked and it took us some effort to jerk them open to drink the milk. After a while, lo and behold, we were ready to go through the ordeal all over again. Preparations for Departure We did not realize but our stay at the PCTS passed away all too soon. We got engrossed with rehearsals for the Passing Out Parade. The winter of 1950-51 was as severe a winter as Quetta can experience. However, the penchant for the Military smartness could not be sacrificed at the altar of physical comfort. Jersey was considered too shabby a dress for such a colourful occasion. So, we were to be turned out in Angola shirts with sleeves rolled up and Khaki drill trousers – cold or no cold, to hell with it !! . During one of the rehearsals a snow blizzard was blowing. We were at ‘Eyes Right” position for the ‘dressing’ and the blizzard was beating right into our left cheeks. Capt Anwar – the Adjutant, not satisfied with the dressing kept us in that position for over 10 minutes till it was perfect. “Eyes Front” he hollered, but by then our necks had frozen stiff and needed a Herculean effort to jerk our heads to face to the front. Naturally, much to the chagrin of Capt. Anwar our heads did not move with the alacrity warranted on the Drill Square. However, realising what had happened to us, the Adjutant disregarding the recognised propriety of the words of command shouted hastily,” Run you rascals! Run to your barracks”. And we loved it. In the lighter vein, we had also prepared a ‘stage drama’ which was to coincide with the Passing Out Parade. For those who had been selected or ordered to ‘volunteer’ to act in it, it was an extra burden. While others prepared for their final academic exams or slept, we were to rehearse our roles till late in the night. For the drama to be meaningful, there was an essential requirement of a few ladies, a commodity not available there. Army has a solution for all problems. Hardy tough cadets had to be transformed into delicate pretty looking girls. Most ‘girls’ looked real pretty or was it the optical illusion generated in an otherwise stolidly masculine environ? Incidentally, one of ‘girls’ later won the coveted Sword of Honour at the PMA !! The drama was an unqualified success and Maj Gen (later Field Marshall) Ayub Khan — then Adjutant General Pak Army – who had come to take the salute at our Passing Out Parade, came to see the drama unannounced for the second time on the subsequent night also. All through the rehearsals for the drama an interesting episode used to take place. In the last scene the “girls” were shown having tea with pastries in the college cafeteria. Being well mannered the “girls” partook only a pastry each and left many untouched in the tray. However, as soon the curtains used to be wrung, all the polite ladies and a few others around charged the pastries, except for poor – Hameed-ul-Haq Raza-ul-Haq (HR) Abbasy – the curtain puller who could not leave his post and had to ensure that the curtains were fully closed. On the actual day of the drama and in the presence of General Ayub, HR Abbasy had different designs. Precisely, at the usual moment of the stampede for the pastries, he left the curtains half wrung. Girls went crimson and Gen Ayub had the loudest laugh in the hall. It would be unfair not to mention the name of Syed Zain-ul-Aba Jafri along with the drama, who breathed his last a few months ago — May Allah rest his soul in peace in heavens, ameen. On the Opening Night at the PCTS when he introduced himself with his full name, Azam Khattak – though a Khattak by birth yet an Urdu intellectual of good standing – promptly asked him if it would be sacrilegious to pronounce his name without ablutions (wuzu)? Jafri was highly talented and gifted in the art of music. He could play any instrument – string or wind – drum or Tabla – name it and he could produce the melody out of it effortlessly. He was the heart and soul of the dramatic club. He soon came to be known as “Musical Jafri” and carried this name with him even into the army and perhaps to the heavens. Few, even amongst his 7th PMA course mates, knew his actual name. Farewell to PCTS The Passing Out Parade went off very well and many of us were feeling that if we were not already officers, we were half way to it. Little did we know of the ‘reception’ awaiting us at the PMA. Not all who entered PCTS came out of it successful. 96 made it to Kakul out of 123 that went to Quetta. The rest were either withdrawn or relegated to join 5th JSPCTS. After our course the PCTS was redesignated as JSPCTS - Joint Services Pre Cadet Training School - and had cadets from Navy and Air Force as well. 5th JSPCTS eventually became the 8th PMA Long Course at Kakul. 7th PMA JUNIOR TERM Arrival/Reception After a short break at home, we were required to report at PMA on 28th March 1951. Ninety Six of us had made it from the PCTS and we were joined by another seven who had been relegated from 6th PMA to make a total 103 to start with. Our arrival was three days before the Academy was due to reopen. Hence, the dreadful senior courses were still away on leave. However, the Drill Staff and a few selected GCs from amongst the Seniors were present to give us a real royal welcome. The mode of travel from Rawalpindi to Abbottabad in those days was Pindi-Hazara Bus Service. The Bus stop in Pindi was at a most inaccessible place beyond Ganj Mandi which could be reached by Tongas only. At Abbottabad we were loaded into military trucks, driven to PMA and dumped at the Company Offices – quite unceremoniously. Suddenly all hell broke loose !! Before we could gather the ground under our feet, we were greeted by the few Seniors around with a hail of shouting of military commands (cautions); “ At the double”, “Get a move on, you lousy GCs”, “Look Sharp”, “Chest out, Chin in”, “Swing your bl---- arms up”, “Dig in the heels” and what not. Before we realized we had already made a dozen Chakkars (rounds) at the double of the Company Offices, a score of front rolls and back rolls and barked up a tree “Good Morning Sir” a hundred times!! And those of us who had come in their Sunday Best cursed themselves for ruining their suits. Despite the rumpus shemozzle, somehow, at some stage of our agony, we had filled in certain forms, been informed of our PMA Number, Company to which we were allocated, our Barrack and Room No., and asked to “Get a move on”. When we looked around for some assistance (coolie, bearer or orderly) to carry our otherwise quite heavy boxes, we received yet another barrage of outbursts with a dozen “Monkey Jumps” to accompany and told to carry the stuff ourselves (mutual assistance to one another was allowed, thanks God). Organisation at PMA PMA was officially known as “The First Pakistan Battalion (Quaid-e-Azam’s Own)”. And how mighty proud we were to be part (insignificant one at that) of not only the First Pakistan Battalion but of the only outfit to have the honour of having Quaid-e-Azam as its Colonel-in-Chief. It was a custom derived from the British that members of the Royal family became the Colonels-in-Chief of various Regiments and their names were linked with the unit. There was no Royalty to match the Quaid — and no King or Emperor would have inspired us as did the Quaid’s name. Military Staff PMA was then commanded by Brig. Tarver, with Colonel (later Brig.) Saeed-ud-Din as the Chief Instructor (followed by Colonel – later Brig. – Qurban Ali Khan) and Lieutenant Colonel (later Maj Gen.) Muhammad Rafi as the Battalion Commander. There were four Companies – Khalid, Tariq, Qasim and Salahuddin – commanded by Major (later Maj Gen.) Shaukat Raza followed by Major (later Lt Col) R M Akhtar, Major (later Brig.) Mian Taskeen-ud-Din followed by Maj (later Lt Gen ) A B Awan, Major (later Lt Col.) Hazur Ahmed Khan MC and Major (later Maj Gen.) Naqvi — followed by Major (later Lt Col.) K.M. Khan respectively. Each company was composed of three Platoons. The GSO-II (Training) was initially Major (later Maj Gen.) Rahim Khan, soon followed by Major Shortland. Adjutant was Captain (later Brig.) Ali El Edroos – who was soon followed by Major (later Maj Gen.) Riaz Azim. In our Senior Term Major Akbar – a Cavalry Officer took over as Adjutant on the departure of Riaz Azim to Staff College Canada. There was also a Methods Officer Major Qasim Shah – who supervised the method of instruction of Instructors. We had a Weapon Training Officer (WTO) who was affectionately called “Major WT Shah” and I never learnt his actual name. In the later part of our Upper Term he was replaced by Capt. (later Brig) Ata Muhammad Malik – a decent and thorough gentleman who was a complete contrast to W T Shah. Captain (later Lt Col.) Muhammad Hussain Bhatti was the Physical Training Officer (PTO), again a decent and highly professional officer. A very colourful personality on the staff was Capt (Later Major) Saeed of the Corps of Engineers. He had a Java Motorcycle on which he invariably used to do “low flying” at neck break speed. He had thick moustaches and with his skiing goggles and helmet on, he looked real impressive. He was soon nick named “JANBAZ”. His lecture on “Explosives and Booby Traps” will live long in our memories – not for what he said but for what he did. After the lecture was over and some one opened the door of “Muqeem Hall” to leave, there was a big bang and an explosion took place – far enough not to do us any damage yet near enough to give us the fright of our life. That certainly drove home what Booby traps were all about and what explosives could do. Our Platoon Commanders, who were our real mentors, were :- Khalid Company. Platoon No. 3 Junior Term: Capt. (later Lt Col) Ikramullah Inter, Upper and part Senior Term. Capt (later Brig) K.M.Khalid Remaining Senior Term: Maj (later Maj Gen) Qamar Ali Mirza followed by Major Anwar Khan S.J. Tariq Company. Platoon No. 7 Junior Term. Capt (later Brig) Iqbal Malik Inter, Upper & Senior Terms. Capt (later Lt Col) Syed Muhammad Salim – a fine Gunner officer who should have risen higher in the army but unfortunately lost his one eye due to a premature shell burst on the ranges and was down categorized. Salauddin Company. Platoon No. 14 Junior Term. Capt (later Lt Col) Syed Mukhtar Shah Inter, Upper & Senior Terms. Capt. (later Lt Col) Syed Tauqir Hussain We had no Platoon in Qasim Company. Two year training at the Academy was divided into four terms – Junior, Intermediate, Upper and Senior, of approximately six months duration each. On arrival of a course at the Academy it was divided into three platoons and the platoons were allocated to three companies, as Juniors. As there were four companies, one company had to be without the Juniors to start with. A GC was, therefore, part of a Company – Khalid, Tariq, Qasim or Salahuddin as well as part of a Term, that is; Junior, Inter, Upper or Senior. Company Commander looked after the discipline and administration of the GCs whereas the Term Commander (usually one of the Company Commanders ) was responsible for the Military Training of the term. There was also an Academic Term Commander, from among the civilian Academic Staff. The military training team was assisted by a host of Non-Commissioned Officers (NCOs), who were picked up from the entire army for being not only the best in their respective fields but were also a smart lot, endowed with good personality, impeccable discipline, fair and firm dealing with the GCs — the future leaders of the army. The most prominent and outstanding among them was of course Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) V.C. Duffield, MBE. — the Drill Instructor who functioned under the Adjutant. He belonged to the famous Cold Stream Guards – the world renowned regiment who stands guard at the Buckingham Palace wearing bear skin head gear and scarlet tunic. He was Drill Personified and an Institution by himself. It was always a treat to watch the Drill Staff under him marching up and down smartly, erect and correct with measured steps, correcting the basics of the drill movements of the cadets on parade and taking their numbers for the violations to be awarded ‘Extra Drill” in the afternoon, after lunch and before the Games period – the only time a cadet could get some respite. Similarly the PTO and the WTO had their own quota of NCO instructors to assist them, who were again the best in every way. PT Instructor Havildar Sultan was the army boxing champion while Havildar Moajamdar was an army Swimming Champion. PT Staff was headed by Havildar Major Shafi – a slim, smart, athletic and nimble footed NCO. Agility and alacrity of Weapon Training Instructor Havildar Dost Mohammad with the bayonet could have been the envy of the best bayonet fighter in the world. They were all great artists soldiers of their trades. The Passing Out Parade was held twice a year – in February and August – when the Seniors passed out and were commissioned into the various Arms (no Services then) of the army. Academic Staff Besides the Military Officers we had an impressive team of highly qualified and competent (mostly PhDs) Academic Staff. Names of some of the luminaries that I can recollect comprise of Dr. Ishaaq – a renowned Mathematician and Physicist of his time, who exchanged views then directly with Einstein on the “Theory of Relativity”. He had also received an invitation from the World’s Scientists Body to travel to the moon, to which, keeping his advanced age in view, he had replied, “ I will be there much before any one of you”. (Imagine Space Travel being discussed in 1950 !!) The English Department was headed by Dr. Mazhar Ali Khan, who left his teaching job at the Cambridge when Pakistan came into being to contribute in the nation building here. However, as a visiting Professor he used to be called once or twice a year by Cambridge and Oxford to explain Shakespeare to them and by Tehran University, to dilate upon Hafiz. Dr. Mazhar took more than a week with us on the ‘Alphabets’ alone while teaching the phonetics, pronunciation, emphasis and syllable of English as a language. He was ably assisted by Mr. Muzzaffar – who took most of our English classes. He was not only a perfectionist but a hard task master at that too. I think the highest marks that any one ever got in his paper were around 59 out of 100 !! Dr. Ehsanullah, a Pathan from Charsadda – highly philosophical, immaculately dressed and a soft spoken elderly gentleman, who carried himself with great dignity and poise taught us Current Affairs. On his first lecture, he introduced himself as Theodore – the German translation of Ehsanullah. He had fought a dual over the honour of a lady in his young days in Germany while at Goethe University from where he had earned his Doctorate in Philosophy. Mr. (Maj.) Aftab – a towering personality, supporting a well trimmed beard and with a resonant voice headed the Science Department. Later, he was the Vice Chancellor of Urdu University Karachi for many years. Mr. (Capt). Durrani – a thorough gentleman to the extent of being forgetful and Dr. Karar Ali – a very articulate and capable teacher, taught us Physics and Chemistry respectively. Dr. Karar Ali, may he live long, is seen even today in some of the PTV religious programmes. Department of History was headed by Dr. Bakhtiari – a highly cultured and competent teacher of his subject. He was ably assisted by Dr. Khwaja Abdul Hayee – who amongst the civilian staff was the most meticulous and precise in his military movements while taking over the class from the SGC. In his very first period with us he pulled out an old PMA Part-1 order from the days of Brigadier Ingle the first Commandant of PMA which read, “2 minutes before the sounding of the siren, all GCs will be seated in an upright position with their backs 6 inches away from the back of the chair and will remain so seated till the period is over and the Instructor has left the class room.” He always came well prepared for his lecture and made use of the training aids as prescribed by the Methods Office of the PMA. His interjection of the English idioms was remarkable and at times amusing to the extent that it became difficult for the listener to control his smile. Such as; “through thick and thin”, “between the devil and the deep sea”, “on the horns of the dilemma”, “they met hip and thigh and fought tooth and nail”, “when France sneezes Europe catches cold”, “much water had flown under the bridge” etc. Any GC caught smiling suffered seriously. Once, when an SGC had to report to Dr. Sahib in his office, he asked his permission in a typical military manner and shouted, “ Can I come in, Sir ?”. “ Yes, you CAN but MAY not”, came the rejoinder signifying the difference between the ‘can’ and ‘may’. And after some waiting, “ March in GC”, was the Dr. Sahib’s style of granting permission to enter. After his retirement from the PMA, he established his own Academy for the young ones in Rawalpindi under the name of “Jinnah Preparatory Academy” where he instilled military discipline from Kindergarten level. It would be highly unfair not to mention Dr. Sahib’s love for the nation that he refused to raise the fees beyond Rs. 50.00 only per month in spite of high inflation and high fees in all other schools. The standard of learning was excellent with the result that almost all his students used to land in Cadet College Hassanabdal – after competing openly in one of the toughest selection systems in the country. May his soul rest in peace, ameen. Dr. (Capt.) Rashid Qureshi – the Geography teacher had travelled abroad extensively and would invariably bring in personal touch of his visit to the country while teaching about its geography. Similarly the teachers of Social Sciences — Civics (Mr. Bhatti), Current Affairs (Mr. Fayyaz – one time editor of The Pakistan Times) etc. were highly capable and learned personalities of the time. When I look back over the years I cannot simply help admiring the dedication and the spirit of self-sacrifice of all these gentlemen. Imagine, some of these PhDs were given the equivalent rank of a Major in the army and others of Captain only. In those days, a Major’s maximum salary was Rs. 800/=p.m. and that of a Captain about Rs. 600/= only. Dr. Mazhar – as the Director of Studies was the highest paid civilian with a pay of Rs. 900/= per month. Intellectually these gentlemen would have far out-weighed any General, and yet, they served – yes Sir – SERVED the nation contentedly without any consideration for rank, status or pay. Environment PMA was housed in temporary hutted accommodation which had been built during World War II. Khalid, Tariq and Qasim companies were located in wooden huts which had been partitioned into cubicles with an attached bath room for each cadet. Saladites were accommodated in larger huts (3 GCs per room) and had to traverse a good distance to the bathrooms/toilets. Everyone prayed that may they not be allocated to Salahuddin Company. Since the washrooms of the company were in the neighbourhood of the PMA Dhobi Ghat, Salahuddin earned the nick name of Dhobi Company. However, when we reached the Upper Term the new accommodation of Salahuddin Company was ready which was the best being in stone masonry versus our wooden huts which abounded in rodents in the roofs and the winter breeze howled through the cracks. Soon after arrival, we were marched to the Barber Shop where we received our first encounter with the Electric Hair Cutting machine which did a pretty quick job, then to the Quartermaster’s Stores where we were issued with the Ammunition Boots, PT Shoes, Socks Grey woollen 3 pairs, Web Equipment and other accoutrements, Cap Berets – Khaki and Light Blue, epaulettes, shoulder titles and cap badges, Dangrees (Overalls), Blankets, Bed Linen, Net Mosquito and Army Kit Bag to house these all. Finally, we were taken to the Tailor Shop where we were measured for all manner of dresses; PT Kits, Drill Order (Khaki pair of uniforms – shirts and trousers), Khaki Bush Shirts, Summer Mess Kit (lovingly called Monkey Jacket), Battle Dress, Angola Shirts, Berethia Trousers, Army Overcoat, PMA suit (double breasted grey woollen suit). Incidentally, ours was the first course which passed out in Blue Patrols which were stitched in our Senior Term. As a cadet our Out Fit Allowance was Rs. 800/=. It not only paid for all above but about Rs. 250/= were also paid to each one of us in cash as the balance of this amount at the time of passing out. Like PCTS, the routine at the PMA was also divided between Military training and Academics. The first two periods were invariably spent on the PT or Drill Square, which was followed by a quick 20 minute break for Breakfast before marching to the Halls of Study (HSs) for the academics. English, Mathematics, Science, History, Geography, Civics, Political Science, Current Affairs were the major subjects. However, soon Weapon Training — WT (Theory of weapons and firing), Fieldcraft – FC (Movement in the battlefield), Field Engineering – FE (Digging, Bridges, Mining, Explosives & Demolitions etc.), Map Reading – MR (including Night Navigation), Driving and Maintenance – D&M (Internal Combustion Engines and Gear to Torque ratios) and other special to arms subjects, like – Signals’ Voice Procedure, Supplies’ Ration Scales, Ordnance’s white and yellow vouchers, Administration and Morale, Military History, Military Law and God knows what not, started to take over an appreciable share of the academic (non-military) periods and subjects. Ragging and Punishments Ragging by the Seniors was an institutionalised method of breaking the newly inducted cadets (Juniors) into the military way of life. It was somewhat similar to the “First Year Fool” played with the new entrants at most colleges in those days – except that it was less subtle in mental buffoonery and greater emphasis was placed on physical torture. It was mostly resorted to by the Inter Term GCs who had been themselves on the receiving end till the arrival of the Juniors. After a few weeks, it tended to fade away except for a few seniors (Inters) who were either sadistic by nature or had received more than their share of ragging as Juniors themselves. Uppers occasionally took notice of a Junior marching slovenly or whatever the offence and ordered him a few rounds of the barrack at the double, but a Senior considered it below his dignity to shout at some insignificant Junior and would either ignore him or signal some nearby Inter or Upper to take care of the offending Junior. While ragging was all unofficial and off the record there were punishments which could be official (very rare) and unofficial (too frequent). Official punishments were reserved for serious offences and violations of discipline. Charge sheets were prepared, the offending GC was marched into the office of Company or Battalion Commander and issued the punishment according to the gravity of offence. Normally it meant, restrictions for a number of days during which one could not leave the limits of PMA, attend all extra drill parades, report in full FSMO (Field Service Marching Order) at the company office after dinner etc. Farhat Ali Burki holds the distinction of being the first in our batch to have received the official punishment. In the Junior Term one of the GCs (in rotation) used to be designated as the SGC (Senior GC). The SGC was what a Class Monitor would be in a school. Once, Mr. Muzaffar, one of our English teachers entered the class and found it quite rowdy. He asked as to who the SGC was. Up shot Farhat and was told to take down the names of a few GCs suspected of disorderly behaviour and report them to the Platoon Commander. One of the GCs – Zahid – happened to be Farhat’s cousin. In a day or so we were scheduled to leave for Camp Initial – an exercise in which we were to stay out for a week. The offending GCs really treated Farhat with all manner of kindness and consideration and convinced him that by the time they would return from the camp the matter would have been forgotten. Farhat fell into the trap, and did not report the matter to the Platoon Commander. Little did poor Farhat know about Mr. Muzaffar’s elephant memory and eye for detail. Farhat was charge sheeted for dereliction of duties as the SGC (besides showing favouritism born out of nepotism) – an unthinkable offence for a Gentleman Cadet in those days. Farhat was marched before the Company Commander, who claimed to let him off “lightly” and calmly awarded him 28 Days Restrictions!! The unofficial punishments were distributed quite lavishly and one did not have to make a serious effort to earn them. During the morning inspection a fair number of GCs would be awarded Extra Drills for any reason whatever. To illustrate the point, Capt. Edroos — our first adjutant — during the inspection would look at a GC straight in the face and shout “Boots dirty, take his number”, he would move in front of another GC and while looking down at his boots shout “unshaven, take his number”. He would move to yet another GC and while looking straight at him shout “the GC behind me, moving his eye balls on parade, take his number”. What were the limits of traverse of his vision, both horizontal and vertical, one can well imagine but all those GCs had earned two or three extra drills each. However, they say he laughs best who laughs last. At the Passing Out parades, the Adjutant was required to be mounted on a horse and command the parade. Capt. Edroos’ horse, unfortunately had the habit of trotting off the parade ground as soon as the first caution was sounded into its ears. Quite often the horse and rider had to be retrieved from the nearby Driving & Maintenance track. These were some of those rare occasions when even a ruthless RSM like Duffield would look side ways to avoid catching the broad grins on our faces on the Parade Ground. The extra drills were held on afternoons of Wednesdays and Saturdays (the days when afternoons were off). Normally the Drill Staff used to take the drill. However, there were also some extra keen Senior Appointment Holders, who for lack of anything better to do, would invariably make themselves available to assist the Staff. When we joined PMA, GC/CSM Sultan Badshah, Company Sergeant Major of Salah-ud-Din Company (of 4th PMA Long Course) was the chief tormentor of the Juniors. A few incidents connected with him would be helpful in explaining how the life of Juniors was made miserable by him. The Tailor and Barber Shops were located behind the Salah-ud-Din company lines. Sultan Badshah’s room was at such a vantage point that he had his eyes on all the innocent Juniors on their way to the Barber and Tailor (which visits were quite frequent). Juniors were required to march properly – like on the Parade Ground – all the time and in any dress wherever they went. Once three of us were marching along as smartly as only GCs of Junior Term can do, when suddenly we heard a roar, “Hey ! both of you three GCs, double up here,” emanating from the direction of Sultan Badshah’s den. We were perplexed as to which two of us were being called (everyone considering himself to be the third one who was not required), when the roar was repeated more vociferously, we doubled up and hardly had we reached him, when he shouted, “you lousy chaps. You are too damn slow in moving. Three chukkars over the Tailor shop and be back in three minutes”. We had hardly finished when he asked, “And why didn’t you come immediately when I called”. One of us very meekly tried to convey that we were confused which two he had called for. “Oh, so you don’t understand simple English. Three more chukkars over the tailors shop to improve your English”. On another occasion, Sultan Badshah, was taking the extra drill and an aeroplane happened to pass over head. One of us glanced up. Sultan Badshah shouted at him, “You GC, what are you looking at, start jumping to catch it”. The poor soul jumped two or three times and the rest of us had developed an irresistible grin on our faces. “And what are the rest of you grinning for, start jumping all of you and catch the aircraft.” So we joined in the venture and continued to do so, until the aircraft disappeared over the hills. Well, that was Sultan Badshah – but his best was reserved for very special occasions. As a CSM he was issued with an official bicycle. Marching up to the Halls of Study after breakfast involved traversing a pretty stiff gradient. Riding the cycle was an arduous task for Sultan Badshah, who would invariably be on the look out for an excuse to catch a couple of juniors and ask them to push his bike all the way up to the HSs. Any one who is aware of the gradient between Salah-ud-Din Cadet Mess and the Halls of Study as well as the bulk that made up Sultan Badshah can well visualize the plight of the poor GCs who suffered the agony. No wonder, the juniors had coined a very nice ‘nick name’ for him, by slightly modifying his first name. It is not too complimentary and I would not repeat it here, but all those intimately concerned are well aware of it. Drill and Saluting Test The first real test we had to under go in our army life was to pass the Drill and Saluting test. I don’t think anyone of us worked so hard even for our promotion exams or the Staff College entrance exam as we did to pass the Drill and Saluting test. The reasons were not far to see. Until one passed the test one could not leave the perimeters of PMA (to visit Abbottabad etc.) Still greater was the agony that until one passed the test, one had to polish his boots/shoes and shine the metals (cap badge, shoulder titles, belt buckles etc) himself. It was part of the training. However, the institution of the bearers in PMA was blessed with the spirit of angels. As long as one tipped them reasonably well, one invariably noticed on return from the evening games, that an angel had visited his room and applied the magic touch to his boots and equipment — and everything was shining beautifully. Allah be praised for His mercies. In our case, the Drill and Saluting test was quite close to the mid-term break. The Hiking club had planned an excursion to Kaghan — for which there were very few volunteers — since everybody was keen to go home for the break. So it was announced that those who did not pass the Drill Test would be allowed to proceed to Kaghan with the excursion, in spite of the restriction on confinement within PMA limits. Call it black mail if you like, but the Hiking club had quite a good response(due to relaxation of the rule). The end result was that:- a. Those who failed to pass the drill test, but had volunteered to go to Kaghan, felt happy with themselves for the right decision. b. Those who failed to pass the drill test, but had not volunteered to go to Kaghan, cursed themselves for over confidence in their abilities. c. Those who passed the drill test, but had also volunteered to go to Kaghan as a measure of caution could never forgive themselves for lack of confidence. d. And those few, who had passed the drill test, and had not volunteered for Kaghan were the happiest of the lot to be able to proceed to their homes for a well earned rest in peace for a week. Routine The initial few weeks at PMA were dominated by ragging by the seniors, out fitting us with all the uniforms and other paraphernalia of military requirement and heavy doses of drill to instil in us a respectable degree of smartness in our movements and what was known as “Interior Economy”. Interior Economy was the counterpart of “Interior Decoration” in civil life. Our rooms, besides being spotlessly clean, had to be laid out in a meticulous fashion with everything in its proper place. We would get a couple of bricks, wrap them in respective Company coloured gift paper – Green for Khalid, Red for Tariq, Blue for Salahuddin and Orange for Qasim – with the Company “initials” in white cut on a paper and stuck on either side of the brick head. These bricks served as the Book Rack Ends, with all the books placed in between them. Of course you could not pull out any book for reading for the fear of upsetting the layout – hence they remained unread for the duration of our stay at PMA adorning the shelf only. At PMA our pay was Rs. 120/- p.m (Rs 170/- p.m in case of married GCs). Now that will come as a surprise to many, since for a GC to be married was not only considered a cardinal sin, but a definite disqualification. There were cases of GCs having been withdrawn when it came to light that the gentleman happened to be married. There was, however, an exception to the rule. The service cadets (these who were serving in the ranks and were selected for commission) were acceptable even though they may have been married. Out of our pay there was deduction, of Rs 20/- pm for compulsory savings (which we got in lump sum at the time of commission), Rs 16/- pm as instalment payment for the PMA suit plus some minor subscription. We got around Rs 80/- in our pockets, which was more than enough to meet canteen bills, outings to Abbottabad, tailor bills (for extra uniforms), toilet requirements etc. There were some GCs who used to send Rs 30-40/- every month to their homes. We had a bearer who served four GCs. Normally we used to give him Rs 10/- each (a total of Rs 40/- pm). Out of this he used to buy polish, brasso, silver polish and blanco (for cleaning web equipment) and save around Rs 20/- p.m as his tip. We were issued three pairs of Khaki uniform out of our kit allowance. This was inadequate to maintain the standard of turn out required. We invariably got 2 to 3 extra pairs from the tailor (a pair of uniform costing us Rs 10/- each in those days). Our favourite dress, of course, was Dangri (Overalls) which was worn for all outdoor activities, WT, FC, D&M, FE, etc. We could not only relax but take any amount of liberty while in dangri — since smartness of turn out was of no consequence. Life at PMA was not all hell and fury as may appear from the fore going. We had a well stocked canteen — where samosas, cakes and cream rolls were available in abundance (particularly over utilized during the long break around 11 O’clock and evenings), cinema used to be twice a week (Wednesday and Saturday) and after one had passed the Drill test one became eligible to visit Abbottabad on weekends. Besides, we had a variety of clubs of which one could become a member — riding, shooting, hiking, photography etc. Sports facilities were available in abundance. We had comfortable messes with music facilities (there was no TVs then) and billiard table. We invariably used to invite our friends from other companies for meals to our mess and so on. No payment was involved. One put down the particulars of his guest in the Mess register and an automatic book transfer of rations took place between the companies. The standard of food was excellent and breakfast was the most enjoyable meal (specially after plenty of physical exertion). In spite of the heavy breakfast, at 11 O’clock most of us would rush to the canteen for a quick bite of cakes and samosas — washed down with tea. No wonder — most of us used to be dozing during the lectures in the Halls of Study. Our Messing Officer was an old timer Lieutenant of ASC, who had risen from the ranks after about 30 years service. Whenever we passed him and saluted him, he would return the salute and invariably ask, “Khana achha milta hai, Saab”? (Is the food you get good, Sir?) Hike to Bagnotar During the Junior Term, we were taken for a hike to Bagnotar (a scenic spot on Abbottabad– Natiagali Road) on a Sunday (quite naturally). The area abounded with small bushy trees bearing a nut like fruit. Somebody tried one and declared it “not bad”. Thereafter, quite a few of us indulged in the luxury. Soon about a dozen of us were belching and vomiting out everything in our bellies. We were loaded on 15 cwt (fifteen hundredweight – if you don’t know) trucks and deposited in CMH Abbottabad. The doctors put us on liquid diet (soup and juices only) and our stools were sent every morning for the lab test to analyse effects of food poisoning. It had been going on for three days when on Wednesday, being a half holiday, friends from PMA visited us to enquire about our welfare. We told them frankly that we were not in too bad a shape when we arrived, but now the doctors were intent upon starving us to death. They set of for the town and soon returned with Chappal Kababs and Nan and we had a hearty feast. The next day there was a great commotion in the hospital as the highly irrefutable evidence of traces of red chillies and other injurious materials had been found in our stools. A horde of doctors, nurses and other paramedics descended upon us in a hostile mood. We had no option but to tell the “truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth”. I need not add that we all were thrown out of the hospital for being totally unfit and unworthy of their hospitality. (To me Allah has been very kind. I am nearing 70 and although I have been entitled to free medical care all along, this happens to be my first and last admission in a hospital for any reason – including malingering.) Camp Initial During each term we used to go out for a week long outdoor exercise. These were camp “Initial” as Juniors, “Initiative” as Inters, “Yarmuk” as Uppers and “Qiadat” as Seniors. These were designed to introduce us progressively to military leadership It was during these outdoor exercises that we met the veterans of Desert warfare of World War II who instilled water discipline in us (as opposed to the Burma veterans who had introduced us to Anti-Malaria discipline at PCTS). Many a desert veteran used to narrate with pride how they lived through the campaign on one bottle of water per day – for drinking, shaving, washing and bath (optional). Kakul and the surrounding areas (Mansehra, Shinkiari, Baffa, Haripur etc.) in which these exercises were held are full of hilly streams of cool and refreshing water besides the innumerable springs. We, however, were not allowed to touch this water, it being from “unauthorised sources”. To quench our thirst we had to depend on the authorised water only, which was warm and tepid in our water bottles. Rest assured we all drank the cool and refreshing waters from the unauthorised streams and springs. The secret was that the military offence was not to drink the unauthorised water but “to be caught drinking it”. Certainly, those who were caught suffered serious consequences. “Initial” was a purely administrative camp designed to introduce us to army camp life. A lot of emphasis was laid on the layout of camp and cleanliness. At the end of it an inter-platoon competition was held. The most interesting item was the ‘latrines’ — a deep trench contraption which we dug — but were not allowed to use — since that would give a foul odour during the final inspection. For practical purposes we had to go round the hill and dig a shallow hole to serve the purpose. It was generally alleged that the SGC of the platoon which won the final competition had invested couple of bottles of ‘Cologne’ in the latrines as a measure of extra precaution to carry the day. Beside the camp layout and ‘Interior Economy’ our stay was occupied by plenty of Map Reading, Hill Climbing and Khud Races. PMA made sure you never got bored for lack of activity. The famous Army saying that “an idle mind is a devil’s workshop” was very well-known to our instructors. The 1951 Flap During the latter part of our Junior term occurred what came to be known as the ‘1951 Flap’. The Indians concentrated their forces on our borders, and we responded by moving the scanty troops which we then had to battle locations. The Indians indulged in verbal threats and Mr. Liaqat Ali Khan (May God bless his soul) showed his famous’ clinched fist (“mukka” in Punjabi). The major fall out in PMA was that it was decided that 5th PMA course would be passed out six months prematurely along with 4th PMA in August 51. So the rehearsals for passing out started in earnest, and nobody was happier than the 5th PMA at this God sent blessing. After some time, the situation began to calm down and there were serious apprehensions that the decision to commission the 5th PMA may be reversed. One of the GCs of 5th PMA on seeing Prime Minister Liaqat Ali Khan’s picture with his raised clenched fist in a newspaper, shouted admiringly “Shabash, Jania, ghut kay rakhus. Sanoun pass out hone deyeen.”, (“well done man keep it (your fist) tight, and let us pass out”). Well, Liaqat held his fist and 5th PMA did pass out with 4th PMA and came to be known as “Nehru Commissioned Officers” for the rest of their Army careers. Minor Events There was many a minor event which added spice to the otherwise drab life at the PMA. RSM Duffield had his own style of welcoming us. The convention at PMA was that Duffield used to address us as “Sir” and we used to address him as “Sir”. The only difference was that more often than not Duffield used to add “you bloody fool” to the Sir, whereas as we always remained confined to the single word. Some extracts of his welcome address to us were:- “let me be very frank with you. I have never seen such a bunch of sparrow eyed, chiselled chested, bay window bellied, knock kneed and flat footed freaks of nature like you. I have seen some, but never so many in the same basket before. It is my unfortunate duty to make soldiers out of you, and rest assured I am going to do so —even if some of you evaporate in the process”. Saad-ud-Din, an old soldier, had a bristle on his chin which was too tough for the ordinary safety razor. A cut throat razor was the only answer for him. Saad loved his razor and took visible pleasure in sharpening its edge every evening expertly. We used to clean our rifles every Friday. Rifle Cleaning Kit which was inspected for its completeness by the Platoon Commander before the start of the cleaning of the weapons, comprised a Pull Through, Flannelette, Oil Bottle a Tooth Brush and a Pipe cleaner — a thin twisted pair of steel wires wrapped around with cotton wool — needed to extract the dirt from the crevices and holes where ordinary tooth brush could not reach. Anything missing meant disaster. Little time was left for the Rifle Cleaning parade to start, when Asif – may his soul rest in peace, ameen – a carefree, relaxed and jovial individual and always short of such good-for-nothing implements, started looking for the needed pipe cleaner. He asked Jaffar Shah – an equally happy–go-lucky type — for one but Jaffar had himself borrowed it from Khawaja Nasim Iqbal – comparatively a more worldly wise person even at that young age. Asif ran to Saad’s room who wasn’t there and fetched his razor to cut the pipe cleaner into two to ward off the catastrophe. The steel wires were not giving in easily but Asif forcefully got the better of them. Next morning, the razor cut through Saad’s face the moment he placed it on his cheek. Menacingly he pointed the razor at his bearer who spilled the beans hurriedly to save his own skin. Next, people saw Asif running around the barrack screaming “Bachao – Bachao”, closely followed at his heels by Saad-ud-Din in his Pajamas (trousers) only, face full of shaving lather and partly bleeding, brandishing the razor up in the air and ferociously threatening to kill him!! Friends flocked to strike peace between them, but the atmosphere suddenly took a turn for the worse when Asif offered to buy Saad a new razor. “A new razor???”, screamed Saad at the top of his voice, “it took me seven years to condition it into its present state!!!” How would poor Asif know the secrets of the experts !! The biweekly visits to the Barber shop were an agony not because we had reservations any longer for getting our hair cut — but because of Sultan Badshah lying in wait en route. To overcome the difficulty Riaz Jafri of Tariq Coy, bought a hair cutting machine and started providing the service in his room. It was very simple – you put your beret on your head and Riaz disposed of all the hair that were visible outside of it. To his everlasting credit, it must be acknowledged that Riaz never charged anybody for the services provided – and hence would not be eligible to be labelled as a ‘professional’. Inter Term After enjoying the long break (6 weeks) at our homes, we came back once again to the Academy. Since 5th PMA had passed out with 4th PMA in August 51, we had no Senior Term for the next six months. There had been much speculations and wishful thinking that 6th PMA would be given a 6 months jump and promoted Seniors and we would move to Upper Term while the PCTS Course due from Quetta would become Inters and a completely fresh course would be inducted as Juniors – thus giving us all the benefit of 6 months reduction of stay at PMA. But Almighty had not ordained it that way – and 5th PMA remained the only beneficiaries of Nehru’s bounty. Emphasis on Military Subjects The training at this stage started to become more oriented to military subjects and Map Reading (MR), Weapon Training (WT) Fieldcraft (FC) and Tactics (Infantry Section Leading) began to acquire more importance for us. We also started reading (infrequently) and hearing (very frequently) lectures on Military History. Napoleon, Von Moltke and Bismarck became names which rung some familiar bells in our ears. By the time we reached Upper Term, it was self-evident that the greatest lesson to emerge from military history was that in the final analysis it was the mediocre who prevailed over the brilliant (Marlborough versus Napoleon at Waterloo and Montgomery versus Rommel at El- Alamin, to quote two examples). During the Inter Term we received a very interesting instructor for PT – Hav. Noor Muhammad (very soon nick named “Nan Mike Charlie”). He was quite intolerant of any lapses. Whenever anyone of us crashed into the horse (which was rather frequent), instead of sympathizing with the poor GC for bruised shins, he would shout “Nashte mein do anday khatay ho aur ghora naheen clear kar saktay. Mein do anday khaon to Gym clear kar jaon (you eat two eggs at breakfast but can’t clear the horse. If I were to eat two eggs I would clear the Gym). It was the same gentleman, who in our Senior Term, close to our Passing Out asked the Platoon to fall in on one side of the horse in our favourite PT exercise position (if you have not guessed it – it was deep breathing exercise). He asked Alvi – May God bless his soul – to fall in behind the horse and on the command “Go” would run up to the horse, stop just behind it, then walk from the side to its front and see what was on the other side – since during his two years stay at PMA he had never visited that side (having always banged into the horse). Besides his proficiency in PT, Nan Mike Charlie certainly was also bestowed with a sense of humour. At this stage we started looking forward to the academic classes as a sort of period of rest (and a little recreation) after doses of outdoor activities. Mr. Muzaffar – one of our English teachers – initiated us into the art of public speaking. One GC would be given a topic to speak on for five minutes. As he would be proceeding to the rostrum, Mr. Muzaffar would quietly slip a piece of paper with a subject on it to another GC and say, “You are next”. For the GC so designated the next five minutes would be absolute misery. One felt like an under trial prisoner just having been issued his death warrant. Once one of the GCs was designated to speak on Napoleon. He got up and began in great confidence, “Gentlemen, Napoleon said fools learn by their own experience -----” Before he could proceed further, Mr. Muzaffar had snapped, “Shut up. He never said that”. The poor GC was dumb founded and tongue tied and could not speak any further in spite of all the goading by Mr. Muzaffar. Ultimately, the GC meekly said, “Sir, I have nothing else to say”. Mr. Muzaffar told him, “But you still have four minutes to go. Just stand there, and let them look at you for four minutes.” No wonder, Mr. Muzaffar was popularly known as the “Academic RSM”. Guard Room It was during this time that we had our first experience of a GC being locked up in the Guard Room. Aslam, May God bless his soul, a short statured GC had a peculiarly large size head with prominent ears protruding out. For this reason he was nick named “Kacchu” – a name he detested as a GC and would flare up whenever addressed as such. One day Aslam was noticed by RSM Duffield for a major infringement (probably a shirt button undone !), who shouted at the Drill Staff, “Put him in the Guard Room” – i.e.; lock him up under Close Arrest. Aslam was hauled up by two six footer Hav Instructors each holding him under one arm so that his feet barely touched the ground and shouting into his ears “Left Right Left Right ----” as if he was a mile away. Soon Aslam was in the guard room safely locked up. Habibullah Khan, a soft spoken Madrasi gentleman with very refined and cultured habits was the duty GC of the Day, amongst whose duties a visit to the guard room to see the prisoners was one. Habib always thought that Aslam’s full name was Aslam Kacchu and addressed him very politely “Hello Mr. Kacchu, how are you?” Aslam flared up and went for his throat and would have strangled him – but for the intervening steel barred door which saved Habib. Aslam is no more with us. What a change it was in later life when during our annual Get-Togethers Aslam would beseech us to address him as Kacchu and we would refuse to do so in the presence of our children and grand children. Our insistence to address him Aslam would turn his eyes misty. Exercise “Initiative” During the Inter Term we had exercise Initiative. It was a week long exercise during which the platoons were located in tactical camps, widely dispersed in area Ugi – Baffa – Dhudhial beyond Mansehra. We were all enemy unto each other and were kept busy patrolling or defending our camp against enemy raids and attacks. We were issued dry rations, but had to make our own cooking arrangements. One of the GCs was appointed Quartermaster for the exercise. It was winter season, and it rained incessantly throughout. Cooking was a problem – and our QM barely managed to serve us a couple of meals (wholesome or otherwise) throughout the week. We had hardly any sleep either – since as soon as we came back from patrolling, we were over due for sentry duty and vice versa. The patrols were so organized that you invariably bumped into two or three enemy patrols en route. Whoever was quicker in spotting the other party and laying a reasonable ambush won the day. We were issued small triangular flags, and the victors took a flag off the vanquished party. At the end of it all the flags were counted to decide who were the winners. The last night of Initiative was most interesting. We all planned attacks on each others’ camps – i.e.; A platoon attacked B platoon, B platoon attacked C platoon and C platoon attacked A platoon. By the time it was over, we all had captured one enemy camp each, but in the bargain had also lost our Bases – including the QM with all unconsumed rations (good riddance). The question is how did one survive such prolonged period of cold, lack of sleep and hunger. As regards the first two one is not sure, but as regards the last item Allah was kind. There were plenty of vegetable gardens in the area and carrots were in season. We soon realized that an appropriate quantity of raw carrots (garden fresh) could keep body and soul together for an appreciable time. Upper Term In February 1952, there was no Passing Out Parade, but we moved onto the Upper Term. This was an interesting time in our stay at the PMA, since we had more GCs junior to us (8th & 9th PMA courses) than we had seniors (6th PMA only) This, also, was the first stage when some of us got ‘permanent’ appointments. We had six Corporals and three Lance Corporals in each platoon and the chevrons on our sleeves made us feel not only proud but also very responsible. Missing Maltas On our return from the break Faizullah Khan (Nawab of Toru fame) brought a trunk load of Maltas from his orchards. He refused to divulge this vital information to his neighbours to avoid sharing with them (in fact Asadullah, his immediate neighbour, still maintains that Faizullah had apologized for not being able to bring any Maltas since they were not yet ripe). Soon, however, the tell-tale orange peels started showing behind Faizullah’s bathroom. A silent patrol was organized by the neighbours in Faizullah’s absence and what happened to the trunk load of Maltas was soon history. Faizullah (May God bless his soul) is no longer with us. He was a great sport and never made any complaint or protest. Public Schools This was the time when 9th PMA had just landed as Juniors. Mr. Muzaffar who had a special liking for Public School boys, asked the new comers, “Those from Public Schools stand up”. A few stood up and were asked to introduce themselves and their schools. Some were from Aitcheson, while others from Lawrence College or Burn Hall etc. The most interesting gentleman introduced himself as from “Public High School, Dina”. Thereafter, for the rest of his service in the army he was known as such and very few knew his actual name. Saad’s Sense of Justice Our exposure to Military Tactics was also raised from the level of “Infantry Section Leading” in the Inter Term to “Infantry Platoon Leading”! We had plenty of out-door exercises on Defence, Advance to Contact, Attack and Withdrawal in which we were subjected to the hazards of Command at Section and Platoon levels. It was during one of these exercises that Saad-ud-Din was to display his sense of justice so finely blended with his sense of humour. Saad-ud-Din Khan, by far the heaviest weight of our course, was erroneously considered the most simpleton amongst us. During our Junior and Inter terms he had been obliging each one of us to partake his sweet dish, whether we wanted it or not, by simply passing it on to the person sitting next to him and walking away from the table, saying, “Yaar toon kha lay mera dil nahin chahnda”. Now comes Ex-Chamba, a tough defence exercise during summers of our Upper term almost a year after. The Chamba nullah bank, where the defensive position was to be sited, was in a shadeless hostile terrain. A few trees in a graveyard provided the only shade available, from the branches of which we slung our water bottles and haversacks with our lunches and a mango each in them. We had not only to dig the regulation size trenches but also carry the freshly dug earth far off for camouflage reasons. Scorching summer sun beating mercilessly made everyone of us hang out our dry tongues. We were greedily looking forward to the juicy mangoes in our haversacks. At lunch break we limped listlessly towards the graveyard where Saad-ud-Din had been left as Sentry on the equipment including our precious food and water. Lo and behold, Saad had a pile of mango peels in front of him and was gobbling heartily the remaining few of our precious mangoes!! “What the hell is going on here” almost everyone shouted in unison? Least perturbed and nonchalantly, Saad started recounting the sweet dishes he had forced upon us during the Junior and Inter terms in the past. “Dear brothers, just try to think that you are now doing the same good turn to me that I have been doing to you all for the past year or so”!! Inter-Company Championship At the PMA we used to compete with other companies for the Championship. The Champion Company used to be awarded Quaid-e-Azam’s banner which was proudly displayed in the GC’s Mess (Ante Room). On entering the Ante Room the GCs of the Champion Company used to stand at Attention in salutation to the banner. The banner, bearing the name of the Quaid most certainly deserved the honour. For the championship the companies used to compete in all manner of Military and Sports events. Cross Country, Obstacle Course, Drill and PT, Swimming, Hockey, Football and Cricket were all fought for and by means of a very complicated system of scoring the Champions used to be computed (there were no computers in those days – thank God). In football, we had Basharat Ahmed Sultan as our full back. His strategy was based on a very simple principle, “Either the ball or the opposing player may go past him, but not both – never”. To be fair to Basharat, his first endeavour was always to stop the ball. It was only when the ball had some gone past him that he would ensure that the opponent did not accompany the ball. The other interesting competition was Inter-Company Boxing Competition. We were introduced to the brutal art of Boxing during PT periods. However, there we invariably managed to get away by banging each other on the gloves and producing loud “oomph” and “ouch” sound from deep down the stomach. Inter-Company Boxing was, however, a different matter. It was held in Ingle Hall with the entire Academy – from Commandant downwards – in attendance in full regalia (Service Dress with full Medals). Every GC had to fight another GC of his weight from a different company. RSM Duffield used to be the MC (Master of Ceremony). He was as usual at his best when inside the Boxing Ring announcing the bouts and their results. There was no question of any glove banging here. One had to fight and hit the other the hardest. The fight of our era to remember was between Aftab Qureshi of our course and Zafar Mayer of 6th PMA. It could well be billed as the fight of the Gladiators. Initially Zafar had the upper hand and his solid punches made Aftab bleed profusely. However, Aftab stuck it out manfully and was soon giving punches as good as he was receiving. Zafar too was now bleeding profusely. This went for full three rounds and both were visibly tired. Just when the gong was about to be sounded, Zafar was totally exhausted and dropped to the floor – knocked out. Aftab, also exhausted, wobbling and staggering erratically, barely managed to keep on his feet till the count of ten was over. Just when RSM Duffield raised his arm and announced him the winner, Aftab, too, collapsed. By then Zafar had regained consciousness and helped the Seconds carry Aftab – the winner – out of the ring !! Soon after when we were promoted to Senior Term, Aftab was made the Senior Under Officer (SUO) of Khalid Company. If for no other reason, he certainly more than deserved his Under Officer-ship, for his performance in the ring. Exercise “Yarmook” The final exercise in the Upper Term was known as “Ex Yarmook”. Previously it used to be a non-tactical long route march with Big Pack from Kakul to Nathia Gali – Murree – Golra – Taxila – Khan Pur – Hari Pur and back to Kakul (proving the earth was still round). It was an exercise purely designed to test the physical endurance of the GCs. After the 1951 Flap it was decided to convert it into a tactical exercise covering all Operations of War. We operated in general area Hari Pur – Taxilla, defending one hillock and attacking the other. There was hardly a Stupa on which we did not dig our defences. Unfortunately, the Buddha relics had not yet caught the fancy of the world, otherwise with the amount of digging that we did on and around those Buddhist Stupas and Monasteries, we could have unearthed a fortune each. One of the final actions was a “Counter Attack” on one such Stupa Hill – a harsh, rocky, steep edged hill. We carried out a ‘rehearsal’ lasting about three hours during the late afternoon. It was dark by the time we climbed down the hill. We were still nursing our stiff limbs, cuts and bruises when the call for the Counter Attack came around midnight. Afzal Warraich – the LMG No. 1 — had found the going during the rehearsal real tough carrying the LMG all the way up. He found a more amicable method of handling the weapon. He stripped the LMG into its major parts – Barrel Group, Bipod Group and the Butt & Body Group. He distributed the first two Groups to his friends and retained the Butt Body Group himself. On reaching the top a final assault accompanied by “C H A R G E” was made and the enemy were thrown off the feature. Immediately in the Re-Org phase the Section was deployed for Defence and the Officer Platoon Commander was keenly over seeing the hectic activity. LMG being the most important weapon had to be deployed very effectively. Asif Hayat (May Allah bless his soul) was pointing out very confidently to the Officer Platoon Commander, “Sir, No. I Group on the Right, No. 2 Group on the Left and No. 3 Group in the Depth”. “Where is the LMG ?” inquired the Platoon Commander. Before Asif Hayat could say any thing, infact he did not know where the LMG was, “Here Sir,” replied Afzal Warraich in his husky voice. “Is your Field of Fire clear ?” Again inquired the Officer. “Yes, Sir” was the confident reply. Afzal who had not been able to retrieve the other parts of the LMG from his friends had thrust the Body & Butt Group into a bush and was holding the Butt of the supposedly LMG in a most professional manner. Officer Platoon Commander wanted to see for himself the Field of Fire so he asked Afzal to get aside and lay himself down there. When he held what was supposed to be the LMG, the Butt just came out of the bush. Surprised, in fact perplexed, he shouted what that was. “Butt Body Group, Sir” replied Afzal calmly. What all went between Afzal Warraich, Asif Hayat and the Officer Platoon Commander can better be imagined rather than described. Senior Term After the break we came back in September 1952 for the Senior and the final term in the PMA. Many of us had been granted permanent appointments (10 Under Officers, 12 Platoon Warrant Officers and 10 Sergeant Majors/Quartermasters). This made up almost 40 percent of what still remained of our course. Wearing these badges of ranks, having no senior GCs to boss over us and host of juniors below us we already felt very important and responsible people. During the final term more emphasis was on preparation for the final examinations – which would influence our final Order of Merit at the Passing Out. At this stage there also occurred a change of command – and with that the inevitable change of thought. Brigadier Tarver left us and Brigadier Piggot – one time Commanding Officer of Field Marshal Ayub Khan – came to command the Academy. A change which was to have a serious repercussion was that it was decided that henceforth any GC failing to pass in three or more subjects in the final examination would not be passed out but relegated. Prior to this, one had to be an all rounder, and any weaknesses in Academics could be made up with good performance in the Out Door subjects and vice versa. Our course was to suffer first shock wave of this new policy and some otherwise very good GCs (including some appointment holders) were relegated. Preparations for the Final Examinations Our final term was a winter term. Some coal was issued daily for heating our rooms. What we used to do was to gang up three or four and study together in one room. As a result, besides the benefit of each other’s knowledge (or lack of it) we used to have a good fire going with the rations of the coal of three to four days. In one such joint study, GC Nadir Khan Raja threw up his hands and said that it was impossible to read all that. The ever jovial and witty Shams-uz-Zaman advised him, “Just throw all the précis’ in the fire and inhale their smoke. Soon all the knowledge will be inside you”. The tragedy occurred when Nadir passed out with us (obviously by not failing in three subjects) and Shams was relegated for having failed in them. Winter Fires The accommodation being hutted was sprayed with a layer of crude oil to give it a smart look and make it termite proof also. This invariably led to a case or two of fire every winter. These were caused either by the short circuiting or carelessness. During our stay the Quartermaster’s stores went up in smoke during 51-52 winter (and everybody said that it was intentional to cover up the deficiencies in the stores) and one of the huts of an Academic Teaching Staff in 52-53. We had excellent drills for fire fighting which we used to rehearse every week. The bugler would sound the Fire Alarm and the GCs would run like hell shouting Fire --- Fire --- Fire ( wording of the tune of the bugler’s Fire Alarm, according the RSM Duffield were, “There is a fire --- There is a fire --- Run you buggers run”). We all knew our duties very well, be it the Cordon Party, the Salvage Party or the Fire Fighting Party. During the weekly Fire Fighting Practices we used to soon have the situation under control and the bugler would sound “All Clear” after a while. However, in both cases of actual fires not a needle could be salvaged as the “All Clear” was sounded only after the last cinder had burnt out.” Visits Another enjoyable feature of the Senior Term was the visits to various Army Schools of Instructions and Regimental Centres in order to provide a chance to the various Arms to win us over. We visited the Corps of Signals who entertained us to tea in their imposing Signal Officers’ Mess on the Mall Rawalpindi, which was the cause of attraction for some to opt for Signals. From there we were taken to Kuldana Murree for an overnight stay and visited various outfits of Signals. We heard plenty of “How do you hear me?” and “Loud and Clear” and “Roger out” etc. On our way back we had a short break at Tret with an MG Battalion (Machine Gun Battalion – in those days), one of whose officers – Capt Tauqir – was a Platoon Commander with us. They laid on a demonstration of “Fire Power” for us which was quite impressive. The high tea which followed in the Officers’ Mess was even more impressive. The other visit was to Nowshera where our hosts were the Armoured Corps Centre and School of Armour, Artillery Centre and School and the Engineer’s Centre and School at Risalpur. They all tried their best to outdo each other and impress us in every way. To be fair to them all, each one of them impressed us a lot. But I suppose, the Armoured Corps – with their black berets and maroon handkerchiefs (Kali Topi Lal Roomal) outdid the rest. It was either a part of this visit or a separate visit to the PAF College Risalpur where we played hockey and cricket matches with them. The honours were equally divided, PAF College won the cricket match whereas we won the hockey. Exercise “Qiadat” In the Senior Term the final exercise was known as “Ex-Qiadat”. This was a tactical exercise in which we practiced the various Operations of War. However, this time there was a major difference. So far, all our exercises had been an “all GC affair” – in which some of us were appointed as Commanders, while the rest served as rank and file. During Qiadat we had with us regular troops (4/10 Baluch Regiment) to provide the rank and file and most of us provided the Command elements. It was quite an unforgettable experience for us – and I am sure it must have been an amusing experience for the poor Baluchis to be exposed to the command of such “NeemHakim, Khatra-e-Jan”. Any way the exercise went off well, without any major catastrophe and we came back for the final run up to the Passing Out Parade. Passing Out By this stage, many of us, particularly the appointment holders thought we could relax a little and get away with it too. RSM Duffield had different views. During one of the rehearsals for Passing Our parade, Duffield noticed that one of the SUOs was not banging his foot hard enough, and was generally relaxed. He marched up to the SUO and whispered in his ears (loud enough to be heard in the entire Drill Square) “Does your mother love you, Sir”. The SUO was taken aback and stammered,” I beg your pardon, Sir”. “I said, does your mother love you?” repeated the RSM. “Yes Sir” was the reply. “Well Sir, I don’t – so work hard. Just before the Passing Out parade we were fitted out with blue patrols. We became the first course to pass out in the Blues. Prior to that the Passing Out parades were held in Khakis (in August) and winter Battle Dress (in February). A team of officers came from GHQ to approve the new dress. Duffield picked the lousiest GC (no name this time) to appear before the team dressed in Blue Patrol. On seeing the GC the Adjutant asked RSM Duffield, “Couldn’t you pick up some smarter guy for displaying the sample Blue Patrol?”. Back came the reply from Duffield, “Well Sir, if it looks alright on him, it will look alright on everyone else”. Conclusion Finally came the day of deliverance for which we had waited so long – 14 February 1953 – the date of our Commissioning. Khawaja Nazim-ud-Din, the Prime Minister of Pakistan, was the Chief Guest. After a smart parade, speeches and distribution of awards, the Senior Division (that is us – 7th PMA Long Course) formed up and to the sound of the band playing “Auld Langs Syne” marched in Slow Time – off the drill square, up the stairs and into the Salah-ud-Din Mess hall and were instantly converted from Gentleman Cadets to Second Lieutenants in the Pakistan Army, while the rest of the 1st Pakistan Battalion (Quaid-e-Azam’s Own) stood at “Present Arms” looking on and awaiting their turn. Today, fifty years on when everyone hears any military band playing the Auld Langs Syne, for reasons unknown, the eyes swell up with emotional tears, the heart begins to beat faster and one is back in thoughts slow marching up the lovely steps of the drill square. If only one had this life to live once again — one would not want to change a wee bit of it all. That brings me to the end of the story of our Cadet Days. Of the 103 that started in March 1951, 74 of us passed out on 14th February 1953. 11 more passed out with 8th PMA. The rest fell out on the way. Now that we have all retired, 2 made it to the rank of Lieutenant General (not counting the other two who passed out with 8th PMA); 4 Major Generals (including one in Bangladesh) and 14 to the rank of Brigadier. All in all, not a bad showing.