-

John Desmond Dias or John Dee or simply, Jack!

Major John Desmond Dias or John Dee or simply Jack. He was the Adjutant of 8th Garhwalis, with some 12 yrs service, when I joined at Yol way back in '59.

Not very impressive to look at – dark and gaunt with deep set, calm, intelligent dark brown eyes – over a straight nose and thin lips. His cheeks were a wee sunken under high cheek bones. He had at times a beetling brow.

He had straight black hair and rather large ears much like Gandhi. His height was average with a light and even gangling frame. His uniform seemed to hang on his skeletal body with the epaulletes forever hanging down in front. His voice was deep and husky but he could make it sharp – and at times, it cracked like a whip.

His manner was easy and he had the deliberate, rolling, slow, rhythmic, swaying roll of the born mountaineet. He seemed as if he could go on and on forever – without ever stopping for breath or rest.

All in all one would not have given a second look much less than a second thought that is if based on the physical aspect alone.

His demeanour, however, was like that of a coiled spring – wiry, sinewy, vibrant and oozing with vitality. He also had that rare and vital quality of being able to infuse his positive, joyous, vibrant vitality in just about everone who came in contact with him. This quality together with his intrinsic goodness and decency acted as a magnet which drew people to him.

Jack belonged to that rare breed – the breed which do not have enemies. Nobody to my knowledge begrudged him anything. Rather one and all enjoyed and shared his blessings.

I beleive that this was because he was intrinsically good and most everyone saw it. He seemed to be blessed with a soul which refused to come in contact with the meanness of life.

His nature had nothing of the maudlin, gushy or squeamish. On the contrary it was robust, no nonsensical, earthily witty and laced with tons of positive, loud, hearty bluff and banter.

He conveyed that he was the born realist with feet firmly planted on the ground. There was precious little which could surprize him or fool him. One could not even think that one had got the better of him.

His humor was the icing on the cake. It was a ready and quick willingness to see the bizzare in all seemingly serious situations. And the generous grace to laugh at himself first and foremost.

To top it off he had another rare quality and this allowed him to make the most common stuff seem absolutely uncommon.

I remember how we youngsters used to flock to his air conditioned tree, which was in fact the only scraggly bush in the middle of a torrid summers sandy waste. And how he made light of the Commanders remark that he would have us stay in that seeming desert till Jack turned the color of his black boots.

Yet a bit later, wise as he was, Jack calmly let his last shot go wide so that this same stupid Commander could win an Officers Shooting Contest. Jack was a crack shot and would be forever trying new ways to improve the accuracy. I remember him telling me to try and shoot with the rifle but using the Light Machine Gun grip – it did improve the grouping!

His witticisms have passed into folk lore.

An example – 'If the ends dont meet, it does not matter how far apart they are'. His definition of toughness was the ability to march thirty miles under the big pack, down half a bottle of rum and then satisfy a salty lady several times over!

What always held us enthralled was his penchant for seeing the interesting side -the grace, the charm, the beauty in the most ordinary, routine, mundane and dreary of activities and places. His native nature saw only the good and interesting in all life.

And above everything he was an object lesson in humility. Being with him was always tremendous good fun. There are many many stories. His teaching us the finer points of the drill of the Guard Mounting procedure.

Once when I was cheesed up with having been turned into a slave driver, he ignored my lamentations and belly aching but that evening brought FJ and Marguerita to where I was standing and picked up some rocks and lectured his kids on the moraine of an old glacier. Then gave them the finer aspects of a dozer's power and peculiarities. I looked at him but he was talking to his children re the drivers skills.

It was a direct lesson for me to be interested in all that was going on around me.

His personal advice to us who were starting our careers consisting of three points. First. We were required to accept the basic and vital fact that we were the biggest idiots and clowns this side of the Suez, for we had joined the service, hadnt we?

But despite that irrevocable and vital fact or maybe because of it, we were to behave as if – 'We were masters of the world, Monarchs Of All We Surveyed' – and there fore we had to have a 'Sultan Feeling', and always a 'Tough Look.' And a swagger, as if we owned the Earth.

Second. We had to accept another vital fact of life and that was that the CO and just about everyone senior to us would Always but Always be lambasting us for this that or the other.

However as we had to serve at least thirty years and hence we needed a good balanced perspective. So we were to Always but Always take such stuff in through one ear and let it pass forthwith out of the other ear. NTW ie Nothing to Worry — Doh Naye Paise Ka Fikar Nahin! And this was to be so each and every time. A thick hide is vital for a long successful service life.

Third. As just about everyone from the Chief down to the lowly Lance Corporal always had it in right royal for the poor Rifleman, it was our beholden duty to look after the bum. If we did that and even if to a very low extend, we would have done our duty to God and Country! And most of all to Ourselves.

Once wnen we were camped in a mango grove, I was standing waiting for him in the forty pound tent which served as his office. I could hear the CO booming and thundering instructions to Jack in the adjacent 180 pounder. Once the noise ceased, in comes Jack and seeing me, grimaces and mutters, "You damn well know we dont have any money for compensation. So dammit go make sure Tullu doesnt go around making holes in the blasted mango trees!".

Who, amongst us, can ever forget how he used to infuse his quiet, deadly vitality and pulsating life into his 'D' Company when he drilled them the last few minutes at the end of the days training just before the lunch break.

Who can forget his zest for life and lusty appetite, as he demanded a dozen egg omelettes, dozens of toasts and pots of tea for a breakfast. When one of us went with him up into the Dhaula Dhars, the two came back before half the planned time as they had finished the rations!

And when he dallied in having us bachelors over for a meal, how we marched in and ate them out of their entire weeks groceries and even finished their flour and pickles!

The story which really takes the cake is when one of us was with him on a God forsaken Forward Post where even the newspaper reached usually ten days late. And there was this poor dumb B, who had tried to ease off on the meat supply which were live goats cum sheep. Cause enough for the JCOs to get agitated as if the skies had fallen.

Jack was sitting calmly looking at Nanga Parbat, a mountain he craved to climb. When the reporting and lamentations of the JCOs were done with, he looked at them calmly and coolly. Then in a very serious manner said that there was nothing wrong with what the guy had done! Because were he to stay another day on that blasted God For Saken post then he himself would most likely do the same thing. That made every one scamper off muttering TOBA TOBA!!! End of story.

No one could have had a better teacher than this fine, unpretencious, earthily witty and geniune soldier who loved nnthing more than the men around him and looked forward to a 30 year soldiering life. A renowned mountaineer, a crack shot and loved and admired by every single person who came across him – that was John Dee.

He led the Second Indian Everest Expedion in '62, which just failed to make the summit. And then he was tasked in a hush hush mission to put some equipment, which was presumably radio active, on top of Nanda Devi. He took it up himself not letting any one else touch it and be prone to the risk.

Afterwards, he was doing a snow course in Alaska when the symtoms showed up. He was flown back to Delhi but lasted just a week or two. He was not yet 35 yearsl. Joan narrated how it was to see his lonely boots under the bed after his body, white as a sheet had been taken away.

Couple years later badly shot up in the 65 War as I lay on a hospital bed in Bombay's ASVINI Naval Hospital, Joan would come and perk me up. And once Jack's Dad too came to see me. Strangely this man had lost his other son also in a tragic rescue operation when a merchant vessel had caught fire in the Calcutta harbour. Truly, the Good Die Young and there never is an end to tragedy.

His grave is in the Roman Catholic Cemetery whichis adjacent to the Jewish Cemetery where my CO of the 65 War Jerry Jhirad, lies. It is near Kota House, which in those days served as an Officers Mess.

I regret that I dont go there to pay my respects often enough.

-