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---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Chittanandam V R <[email protected]> Date: Sun, 16 Feb 2025 at 11:58 Subject: Fwd: Snippets from Sitendra Kumar - First Posting To: Received from Shri Sitendra Kumar *An eventful prelude to the first posting* WING CDR D P SABHARWAL THE first of everything is always treasured, be it the first words spoken by a child, the first day at school or the first kiss. In a *fauji*’s life, the first posting is an unforgettable event. Every soldier’s experiences upon arrival in the unit are unique. In my case, a lot happened well before I joined my unit. After days spent waiting in anticipation, 30 of us got our ‘posting signal’, which is analogous to the gone-by era’s telegram. It mentioned that I was posted to 17 Squadron operating Hunter aircraft. It did not mention where this was located. An instructor told me that it was in Ambala. The jubilation that it was so close to my hometown was short-lived as the location kept moving farther away, first to Bareilly and then to Gorakhpur. Next day, I learnt that the squadron was in Hasimara. My course-mates wanted a treat — they presumed that I was posted to Japan as the name was similar to Hiroshima! A frantic search of atlases and maps revealed that it was a godforsaken place just across the Chicken Neck area of Siliguri, 125 km away from it. Before joining the unit, we were given four weeks’ leave. My father was curious to know about my pay rise. When I told him that my salary would in fact drop from Rs 719 to Rs 695 per month, he said, “Well, after a training period of 18 months, any organisation would give a raise.” “I was getting 6 per cent of my basic salary as city compensatory allowance as Bangalore is an ‘A’ class city. This would not be admissible in Hasimara,” I told my father. His reply was, “Wish you a career much brighter than your salary prospects.” Ahead of my departure for Hasimara, a senior gave me clear instructions. “The moment your train leaves Siliguri, remain awake and alert. The third halt will be your destination. It will be around midnight. The station has no electricity, no coolie or platform. Your first-class bogie would either be last or second last, thus you would not be able to see the station master swinging his lantern. First drop your luggage and then get down and wait for sunrise. The transport would come to pick you up only around six in the morning. Don’t worry, the station master would offer you his room as well as a cup of tea.” I, along with another batch-mate posted to the helicopter unit at the same air force station, followed the instructions to the hilt. We got down comfortably and waited for sunrise. However, as dawn broke, our confidence started going down. We could see no station because we were amidst the fields. Soon, a few locals arrived and informed us that the railway station was about one mile ahead and that we had got off at the ‘outer signal’. The walk to the railway station, ringing up the adjutant for the vehicle and retrieving the luggage from the drop-down location where no vehicle could go — these incidents tickle the memory even today, more than 50 years after they happened. WING CDR D P SABHARWAL ******************************************** *Chittanandam* -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CAL5XZorRCk7OghRL-RYLeCU2TOJKd6EVe8BaDny7%2BYfnyWz-mQ%40mail.gmail.com.
