By Air Commodore Ramesh S Benegal
16 Oct , 2015
One day we heard the good news that Netaji was arriving in Tokyo and that he would be visiting us. Well before he arrived, we started to spruce up. The school was given a fresh coat of paint, our uniforms were checked and rechecked; rooms were turned inside out and scrubbed. The classrooms and the dining room took on a new look and all the staff went about their work nervously in case something went wrong.
The great day came at last. Netaji had come to Tokyo two days before that to address the Japanese Diet and fulfil some other engagements, but he made time to visit us. We were very proud and grateful.
He appeared at the school at the scheduled time in the morning and was received by the Principal and introduced to the staff. We were made to stand in front of our rooms as Netaji had expressed his wish to meet each of us individually. We all had photographs of Netaji in the INA uniform in our rooms and took the golden opportunity of having them autographed by him. Signing forty-five photographs on a visit like this was time-consuming, but he did it patiently and with a smile.
Netaji spent at least two minutes with each cadet and asked about each one’s welfare. When he came to my room he astounded me by telling me that my brother Sumitra was in the Rangoon Headquarters and was quite well.
He then asked me if I had received any letters from him and when I replied that no one had written me any letters, he said that he would remind Sumitra to write to me. He then signed my photograph and moved on to the next room.
I have since held responsible posts as a commanding officer and I know what it means to an individual when a superior officer remembers his name and anything about his family.
I also know that there is an art to it, and that the officer is briefed before he goes on an inspection. But whether or not one has been briefed, remembering details about 45 diverse cadets from different places and levels, and to say something personal to each one, was very special.
All great leaders are supposed to have or to have acquired this ability and grace, but Netaji’s memory for faces and names amazed us all. It is one of the greatest qualities of a true commander.
Netaji then went round the school premises, while we hurriedly assembled in our classroom for a mock session. When he entered, cadets who were more fluent with Japanese than the majority were asked pre-set questions which they answered with great flourish and fluency. After this, we gathered in the dining room for lunch, and could not believe our eyes. We just stared at the feast before us.
There was meat, fish, and fruit in large quantities. They also had puris, something we had not seen for as long as we could remember, pickles and papad, all these to add an Indian touch. Many of us must have thought that to have even a small part of this food every other day would be wonderful.
Soon Netaji arrived, and the meal began. We ate without halt and the food was delicious. After the meal, Netaji stood up and addressed the gathering. After thanking the Japanese government for accepting the responsibility of training cadets of the Azad Hind government, he thanked the Principal and the staff of the Preparatory School, but he also had a shrewd dig at them.
The lunch, he said, was splendid, but it was apparent that it was as it was because of his visit. He added that, notwithstanding the difficulty in getting food provisions in wartime conditions, he expected us to be served a wholesome meal on normal days.
He left it at that, hoping that the school authorities would take up the cue. Netaji then addressed the rest of the talk to us, stressing that our aim should be to derive the highest benefit from the training we were receiving so that we could excel ourselves when we entered the military academies.
He said that he realised that we were put to a lot of hardship but assured us that it would help us in the long run. He went on to say that if we wanted anything from home, meaning Burma and Malaya, he would be able to send it to us.
He ended the speech by saying that he would write to us soon and would probably be visiting Japan again, very soon. After bidding us farewell, he and his entourage left. We were all presented a 6-inch-by-8-inch photograph of Netaji autographed by him as a memento of his visit.
We returned to routine in the school the next day and we were once again served the same standard fare of rice and shiru. As Netaji had promised, each of us received a letter, signed by him and written the day he left the shores of Japan. This is the letter.
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ARZI HUKUMATE AZAD HIND
(The Provisional Government of Free India)
Fukuoka
29.11.44
My dear boys,
On the eve of my taking off from this soil of Nippon, I want to send you my love and good wishes for the success of your work. I have no son of my own, but you are to me more than my own son because you have dedicated your life to the cause which is the one and only goal in my life—the freedom of ‘Bharat Mata’. I am confident that you will always remain true to the ‘cause’ and to ‘Bharat Mata’.
I am sorry I could not see you again before I left, but you know that I am always with you in spirit.
God bless you,
JAI HIND!
(sd) Subhas Chandra Bose
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The letter moved us deeply. Most of my colleagues got letters from home in the monthly post. But this was the first and the only letter I received in those years from anyone, and I treasured it. People may think it was only a letter but it was a great event in my life.
After Netaji’s visit, we moved into a dull period with the normal routine of the Preparatory School curriculum. The only excitement was our first glimpse of a B-29 reconnaissance aircraft flying solo over Tokyo. Another afternoon we watched two Japanese fighter planes engage a lone B-29. They looked like two Pekinese dogs attacking a huge mastiff.
The B-29 tried its best to dodge the attackers by twisting and rolling, but an accurate burst of cannon fire must have hit some vital part of the aircraft, and with a mighty explosion it went down. We did not notice any parachute and presumed that the crew must have gone down with the plane. The crowd of Japanese around us clapped and shouted ‘Banzai!’ in elation.
When we moved into our last session in the Preparatory School, the authorities realised that we had never been taken out on a holiday, so to make amends they planned a visit to Hokkaido. It was already the height of winter and we thought they were taking things a bit too far, arranging a holiday in the coldest part of Japan, But it was probably the best holiday we ever had.
In some parts of Hokkaido, the snowfall is so heavy that houses have two storeys. When the snowfall is at its severest, the ground floor is sealed by several feet of snow and one can walk out of the upper storey directly onto the street! Lakes are also frozen solid and we witnessed army-tank manoeuvres on one of the larger ones.
We were accommodated in heated homes, and were honoured guests at the inter-school sports held on a frozen lake. The agility with which these young children skated on the ice stirred our instant admiration. We were also invited to try our hand at ice-skating—or should I say bottom, since without exception we all landed on our bottom, much to the amusement of the children.
We chatted with these rosy-cheeked children aged five to twelve, and discovered that their knowledge was restricted to their home country and its propaganda. Nippon is the strongest country in the world; the greatest is Tenno Heika, the Emperor; Eikoku and Beikoku (America and Britain) are very bad countries and they have lost the war; India? Don’t know where it is.
These were some of the stock answers to our questions. All the children without exception were in great good health and were treated with genuine affection by their teachers. It was an unusual sight to see them commute to school on skis, while the little ones were pushed forward in sleds by the older children. We spent five days here, visiting all the scenic spots and holiday resorts.
We then returned to our drab Prep School. It was like coming away from fairyland back to prison. The course of our life at the school went on without any more red-letter days and, as the year drew to a close, it was a relief when we completed our training there.
© Copyright 2015 Indian Defence Review
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