With the passing away on June 27 of Field Marshal Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw, Indians lost their only modern-day military hero. Sam crafted India’s military victory in 1971, the first in a thousand years, in the last globally significant war of the last century. It changed the world map. It was also the quickest, lasting no more than two weeks and yet the most decisive. Bangladesh, a new nation, was born. India secured the surrender of 93,000 Pakistani prisoners of war at a rare public ceremony.
It is well-nigh impossible today to repeat that feat, to have people of that caliber and the combination of those circumstances. There will not another Manekshaw. As independent India’s first field marshal, a largely ceremonial post, he had an extended tenure as the array chief. He was reluctant, knowing that he could not continue without blocking promotions among the top brass. Manekshaw enjoyed tremendous popularity at home and abroad. With so many military dictators all around, there was-and remains - a deep-seated fear about allowing a military man to become too popular.
There were times when there were demands to strip him of the field marshal’s rank. Although made in jest, Sam stood by his reply. Born in 1914, Manekshaw belonged to the first batch to pass from the Indian Military Academy (IMA), India’s Sandhurst, and was commissioned into the 12 Frontier Force Rifles (later the Gurkha Rifles) in 1934. During World War 2, Sam saw action in Burma (now Myanmar) in 1942.In the Battle of Sittang Bridge, he took nine bullets. Taking what seemed last gasps, he found the Military Cross pinned on his body chest by Major General Cowan, the deputy commander of the British forces.
Post-independence, Sam was involved in all major military operations. He planned the Kashmir Operations (1947-49) under direct orders from Jawaharlal Nehru and Home Minister Sardar Patel. The 1962 war with China saw him salvaging the debacle of the very superiors who had targeted him. Low morale and bad leadership, not bad fighting, had caused the defeat, he bluntly told Nehru. Although critical of political leadership in private conversations, often being its victim, Sam had no political ambitions.
Sam stood, baton in hand, his Gurkha cap with kukri insignia at a rakish angle, the cynosure of every eye. But the moment Ram arrived; Sam melted away from the admiring crowd and let the political boss have the limelight. Unlike others, he famously refused to address Indira Gandhi as ‘madam’, saying the sobriquet was reserved for ‘certain ladies who are in charge of houses of ill repute’. Sam had a great sense of humor and lot many people remember this side a lot. He had signboards erected at various spots as Indian troops crossed the frontiers, reading: ‘Hands in your pockets. You are entering Pakistani territory. Indian girls are prettier.’ He wanted to prevent any atrocities on the civilian population.
He was called sexist and accused of insulting Indian womanhood. But he stood his ground, saying: “It was the best way of telling the troops to behave and to concentrate on the job at hand.” Today he is gone but from the hearts of many Indians, this hero will never be gone.