The dreaded Drill Square Test (DST) was at their doorstep. Passing it was of the greatest importance. The programme for the week notified them that the DST was scheduled for Friday. It gave them exactly one week to pull up their socks. There was consternation among the ones who had failed to please the ustad, while the ones who were good in drills feared for their pals. Everyone knew it was impossible to dream of leaving the four walls of the campus without clearing the test.
Worse, very few first-termers were known to clear the test in the first attempt.
‘We can’t afford to fail,’ Billi told her friends. She was supremely confident of herself, but Lucky and Nutty’s performances were far from satisfactory.
Lucky, with her delicate frame, couldn’t bang her feet hard enough, and Nutty was a malingerer, who excelled in inventing excuses to avoid difficult tasks.
‘Out passes are given only to the ones who pass the DST,’ Shiny reiterated. ‘The four of us have to pass.’
‘All you have to do is to bang your feet till Sappy is satisfied. That isn’t so difficult, right?’ Billi tutored Lucky. ‘Make sure the ground quivers under your feet.’
‘My brain wobbles, and my joints rattle,’ complained Nutty. ‘Nothing I do pleases Sappy.’
‘The only way to pass is to spend all our free time on the drill ground.’
‘We don’t have any free time,’ cribbed the Jalna girl.
‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way,’ Shiny chanted.
‘Let’s alter that a bit,’ suggested Lucky. ‘In our case, it’s where there’s a whip, there’s a way.’
So, preparations for the DST began in earnest. It was not an easy test to pass since there were quite a few elements that one had to master. The first part was the turnout (the drill uniform), which was considered one of the toughest to clear. The ustad never failed to find some fault with the rig. Either the creases on their trousers were not sharp enough, or their shoes and brass works were not polished to perfection. Sappy checked each cadet’s rig with surgical precision. He was capable of detecting hundreds of little flaws. Four buttons showing above the belt, instead of the regulation three, the shirt and the trousers not perfectly aligned, or the belt not tight enough. Even the tiniest of threads peeping from the seam of the uniform was considered an unforgivable offence. If these were not to be faulted, there were the 13 nails on the soles of their shoes. Heaven forbid that a single nail went missing.
As a result, only 50 percent of the first-termers made it to the second stage, which comprised marching, turning, saluting and other drill movements. What mattered most was how hard the cadet stamped their feet on the ground. The force of stamping was judged by the level of sound produced by the LC. The higher the decibels, the more the ustad’s satisfaction.
All that Lucky gained with the repeated stamping of her feet were a couple of blisters on her heels. Nutty, who had managed to rope in the help of her overstudy, tried her best to make the earth vibrate, only to fail miserably at creating the right impact.
Billi, her mind set on the Sword, turned out an impressive performance during the practice session. Shiny fared just a little above average. The two of them were sure to clear the test.
‘I can’t do it,’ wailed Lucky, after a brave attempt at creating noise with her blistered foot. She had already given up the idea of passing the DST. ‘I have accepted the idea of failing.’
‘No matter how hard I try, it’s far from satisfying.’ Nutty back-pedalled. ‘What’s the point of making all this effort? I won’t pass.’
Notwithstanding their doubts, the four friends began preparing their dresses for the test. Their dresses were checked for the tiniest of dirt spots, which is what the ustad would be hunting for. All he wanted was an excuse to fail an LC. Standards were very high, the overstudies warned their juniors. The boots, belts and berets were subjected to scrutiny. They polished their boots, belts and buckles to perfection, shaped their berets to fit their heads, and went through another haircut, just in case. It was better to err on the positive side, which meant an even shorter buzz cut. Nails were trimmed and belts tightened. Anxiety over the DST overshadowed the preparations for the other tests, which were soon to follow. The liberty clause was overwhelming. So zealous were the preparations that a few uniforms got burnt, shoe brushes lost most of their bristles, and those who practiced banging their feet a bit too much lost their sleep as their overworked calf and thigh muscles began aching.
‘I could not sleep the whole night,’ Nutty cribbed a day before the test. The girls were returning from the mess after breakfast, when Nutty’s overstudy, intent on getting her to practice one more time, waylaid the girl.
Nothing she said could deter the strict overstudy, who wanted her charge to clear the DST in the first attempt. For the seniors, it was a matter of pride if an understudy performed well, while the underperformance of the charge drew brickbats from the paltu.
When excuses didn’t work, Nutty decided to report sick, but her idea was condemned by her friends.
‘The doctor is sure to debar you from appearing for the test,’ Billi scolded. ‘All your hard work will go waste.’
‘Not just that, you won’t get an out pass,’ informed Shiny. ‘And you won’t be able to go out of the academy on Sunday.’
‘The two of you are good at drills,’ pouted Nutty. ‘Shiny has to prove herself equal to her boyfriend and Billi has promised to take the Sword home, but I neither have a boyfriend nor do I have ambitions of winning the Sword.’
‘Yet you have to pass the test to be commissioned,’ reminded Lucky, who had been stamping her feet despite the blisters.
Finally, it was D-day. The ground was bustling with activity as both the Zojila and Phillora girls lined up to take the DST together. The CSMs and paltus of the respective companies had spent considerable time and energy on the first-termers, telling them about the importance of passing the test. They had also warned them of the shame the company would face if the LCs of the opposing company were to surge ahead. It drove a wedge of rivalry between the two companies, who had hitherto not been in competition with each other.
Not many LCs had slept well in their anxiety over getting through the test. As expected, the test began with the dress inspections. The LCs had adhered to a very high standard, and they were sure to clear the first part of the test. With bated breath they waited for the ustad to declare them fit for the next stage.
Dress inspection carried on for a long time, and by the time it ended, almost half the LCs had lost the battle, most of them clueless about the cause of elimination. Of the 40, only 12 remained in the reckoning.
Only the sassy Saddie dared to ask the ustad for a reason and found herself running all around the parade ground until the tests ended.
Just as the girls who had been approved for the drill test drew a sigh of relief, they noticed the adjutant. Mounted on a white charger, he cantered around, supervising the tests. It was a solemn occasion, even the horse realized. The animal’s haughty demeanour came from the realization that his was an important role in the drama.
The adjutant turned out to be a bigger devil than the ustad. He inspected the uniforms again, before commanding the 12 cadets approved by the ustad to perform the drill. From the lucky dozen, he weeded out some more. When the results were announced, only eight LCs had made the mark, Billi and Shiny amongst them.
It was a damper of a night as the first-termers licked their wounds after the callous cuts dealt by the adjutant. The gang of four gathered in Shiny’s room after the lights were out, dissecting the morning’s event.
‘I am so happy that you got through,’ said Lucky, shaking Billi and Shiny’s hands. She had not expected to pass, so her level of disappointment was low. ‘It is an impressive achievement to make it through the DST in the first attempt. I had no doubt that the two of you would pass.’
‘Thank you, Lucky,’ said Shiny. ‘I wish all of us had got through.’
‘The ustad is a bloody mean guy,’ declared Nutty, her hopes of going out of the academy dashed against the will of Sappy. ‘The bloody adjutant is meaner. It’s our first attempt, and we worked so hard to clear the test. How would it have hurt them to pass us? Can you imagine only eight out of 40 bloody LCs making the grade? It’s a dismal result, to say the least. Passing us would have motivated us to do better.’
‘I don’t think so, Nutty!’ Billi butted into the conversation. ‘It will make everyone work harder now.’
‘I had set my heart on going out this bloody weekend,’ sulked the girl. ‘Now the two of you will have to leave us when you go out on bloody liberty.’
‘We are not going anywhere,’ professed Shiny. ‘Either the four of us go together or no one goes out.’
That statement managed to take away a bit of Nutty’s bitterness. ‘That’s very magnanimous of you,’ she said. ‘Considering that Aaron has passed and will be going out, don’t you would want to bloody meet him?’
‘I do want to meet him. But we can do that at the cafeteria this weekend.’
‘Yes, just like the last time.’ The anticipation of repeating that day’s fun made Nutty happy. ‘We can go out after passing the bloody DST.’
‘But you have to work harder at passing the next time,’ reminded Billi. ‘Passing the DST is mandatory.’
‘I would have worked harder if the damn blisters had not hindered my stamping,’ Lucky winced as she touched her sore foot.
‘To be honest, you have been a very brave girl,’ complimented Shiny. ‘I couldn’t have practiced for drill with blisters on my feet.’
‘You will have to dig your heels a little deeper, march a little straighter and hope for the best,’ Billi advised. ‘I will help you practice harder and you will clear it the next time.’