To wrap up my innings I addressed a letter to all commanding officers of battalions, regiments or units and higher command and staff officers of the army on 28 September 2007:
Dear member of the great Indian army team,
I am honoured to have commanded one of the finest armies in the world. As I pass the baton, I wish to place on record my sincere appreciation to all my commanders, commanding officers, staff and the gallant soldiers who helped me uphold the honour, dignity and the professional ethos of our great army. I also pay my solemn tribute to all officers, junior commissioned officers and men who made the supreme sacrifice in the service of our motherland.
I had set out a number of priorities on assuming command in February 2005. These were addressed in right earnest, enabling us to achieve a high level of satisfaction in most areas. I take this opportunity to reminisce with you some of these priority areas, which, with your dedication and unstinted support, have been completed or are in various stages of fructification … (elaborated in earlier chapters).
I am hanging my spurs after forty-three years of responding to the call of the nation through war and peace. You can be sure of my continued association with our glorious organization and with all of you. My commitment to the army will be a lifelong call.
As I hand over the reins of this ‘Great Army’, I wish you all great success in your future endeavours.
Thank you. God speed and God bless you all.
General J.J. Singh
4 Rajaji Marg was our home for more than two-and-a-half years. The official residence of the chief of army staff was a well-appointed bungalow. Moving into this house was a special event. Rohini had done up the interiors very elegantly and that gave the house warmth and good vibes. We had the privilege of hosting many important visitors, intellectuals and foreign dignitaries, including army chiefs of many countries. The Army Day reception and the garden party for ladies of the station were well-attended annual events.
Our last morning in the house was truly memorable. The home looked empty as the baggage had already been moved to our new abode in the cantonment. After our morning tea had been served, it occurred to me that we would have nothing to do after midday, once the formalities of handing over the command of the Indian Army to my successor had been completed. Having led such a hectic life for over four decades in uniform, here was something that I was certainly not used to! However, for a change, we decided to relax and spend a quiet day together. Nostalgia flooded our emotions and we wished to savour the warmth and memories of what had been our beautiful home for the past two years and eight months, reliving the happy memories of our stay. On this, our last day amidst these lovely surroundings, we wanted to soak in as much as possible of the gracious colonial bungalow so reminiscent of the ‘Raj’, with its colonnaded portico and verandahs, its impeccably manicured lawns and garden, complete with a waterfall and lush verdant surroundings. We walked around the house at peace with ourselves, which was a most tranquil and soothing experience. We spoke to our children and the rest of the family, recounting the events and activities of the past few extremely busy days. They were proud of our achievements and appeared content that we would now have more time for them. Life had been full of surprises and 30 September 2009 was no exception. Around midday I went through the formal ritual of handing over charge to my successor. That done, it was a very satisfied ‘chief’ accompanied by the ‘first lady’ of the army, together with the military assistant and other personal staff, who walked briskly along the corridor and then downstairs to the main gate of the ministry of defence in South Block. We were also accompanied by many senior officers from the Army HQ.
After the customary high tea, we bade our farewell to all those present, among whom were some of my principal staff officers, other senior colleagues, civilian staff from my secretariat and members of my team. I was then escorted to a flower-bedecked open jeep that was drawn by officers, junior commissioned officers and soldiers – a ceremonial send-off with the accompanying ‘Jais’ (victory or glory). This was a very moving moment for me since it represented my ‘Farewell to Arms’, and was a fitting finale for three generations of my family who had served the army. Adorning the ceremonial dress of a general of the Indian Army, my chest swelled more than usual with pride and my eyes were moist, as I realized that it was the last time I would be doing so! It had been the magnetic aura and attraction of the army uniform some forty-seven years earlier that had drawn me, a stripling of some fifteen years of age, to the portals of the National Defence Academy. What an epic journey it had been; carrying me from a ‘one pipper’ to the rank of a four-star general. Our cavalcade then drove past 4 Rajaji Marg, that had us glancing fondly at the ‘White Gates’, our recent home, and on to 20 Mandir Marg in the Delhi Cantonment, which was to be our temporary residence for the next year or so.
We dressed casually for the evening’s ‘dinner for two’. Suddenly, we had company. My team of the chief’s secretariat, led by ‘Bunny’ Chetinder Singh and Venkat Gouder, descended upon us. They proceeded to invite us to an exclusive dinner that they had organized at the infantry officers’ mess. They had quietly invited our entire family, including our parents and children. It was touching beyond compare to find my entire former personal staff and their wives present in the mess to welcome us, together with the bags and pipes band so beloved of the true infantryman. There was a carnival air in the mess and a joyful time was had by all with merrymaking, music, singing and dancing. The party seemed unending and carried on till the wee hours of the morning. It could be labelled as the Balle Balle evening, what with all of us singing and dancing, Mauja hi Mauja and Saadhe Naal Rahoge te Aish Karoge. The British left us some wonderful precepts, one being to ‘work hard and play hard’.
Later in the evening, we experienced another wonder being unravelled in our midst. All of a sudden there was silence and everyone was asked to gather in the ante-room of the mess. A specially designed stand to hold my much-valued military baton was brought into the room, along with my baton, and presented to me. My deputy military assistant, Colonel P.J.S. Pannu from 22nd Maratha Light Infantry (Hyderabadis), had observed the care and pride with which I always carried my baton since it bore the crests of all the units and formations that I had commanded in my over four decades of service. He felt that this baton should rest on a special stand painstakingly designed by him and which, on its base, bore the names of all the officers of my secretariat. It was a superlative gesture, notwithstanding my once casual personal expression to Colonel Pannu that my baton and medals, along with many other trophies, should appropriately be housed in the Maratha Light Infantry Centre Museum. The baton finds a pride of place in my home today.
As we emerged from the officers’ mess, another surprise package greeted us! Our car was nowhere to be seen. A ‘two in hand’ ceremonial horse carriage or buggy was waiting in the porch instead. The carriage was accompanied by a mounted escort of five cavalry troopers in full ceremonial attire from the Indian Army’s only horse-mounted regiment, the 61st Cavalry, of which I had had the privilege of being the colonel commandant in my capacity as the chief of the army staff. In all, there were seven horses – an auspicious symbolism! We were escorted to the carriage by my aides-de-camp and instead of the usual farewells, everyone, including the graceful ladies present, broke into a choral rendition of ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow.’ Our pleas to end this affectionate display fell upon deaf ears till we reached our destination, 20 Mandir Marg, a distance of almost one-and-a-quarter kilometres.
Now it was my opportunity to turn the tables on my team. I declared that this was not to be the end of the evening and that I would not let them depart without a ‘thank you’ drink. This provided the ideal opportunity to uncork some fine champagne in honour of the first guests to our new home.
That was the day, as they say, on which I hung up my spurs. I no longer was the ‘Jangi Laat’. Except for the two of us, it would be life as usual the next day for everyone present that evening – just another working day. C’est la vie!
I have tried to project in this story the soldier that I was and my performance in the assignments that were given to me, and I stepped out of uniform with grace, dignity and with my chin up. The rest is for the people to judge.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
– Kahlil Gibran
All the ‘chiefs’ at the Conclave–2006 at Army House: (From left to right) Generals S. Padmanabhan, S. Roychowdhury, V.N. Sharma, O.P. Malhotra, the author, K.V. Krishna Rao, S.F. Rodrigues, V.P. Malik and N.C. Vij.