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A couple of days back I received a surprise parcel by post containing a beautiful coffee table book titled, “Field Marshal K. M. Cariappa”, written by his only son Air Marshal (Retd.) K. C. Cariappa.

As I was wondering how this book, published in 2007, could suddenly land on my desk, I saw a neatly folded handwritten letter placed between its pages. It was, of course, revealing. The letter was eloquent enough to reveal the mystery as it were.
I produce the letter:

Dear Mr. Ganapathy,
I learnt from Shri. K. Vijaya Kumar that you are probably unaware of the biography I had written on my late father. It was released in Bangalore in December 07.

The book is not meant as a historical one, but was written to, perhaps, remind people of his principles and what he stood for.
I hope you will find it interesting.

With best wishes,
K. C. Cariappa

Of course, the book itself was no surprise to me as I had already purchased it a long time back, in 2007, after a friend mentioned it to me saying he learnt about it from an article published in The Week magazine. I hastened to buy the magazine and was quite impressed with the interview Air Marshal Cariappa gave to Humra Quraishi of The Week.

The interview carried the cover page of the book as also the Air Marshal’s picture. The credit for provoking or persuading the Air Marshal to write the book should indeed go to the Publishers, Niyogi Books, New Delhi, as the Air Marshal himself admits that he did not have any plans to write the book till he was contacted by the publishers.

And what was the inner voice that made him agree so readily?

Field Marshal’s son says:
"I agreed because I believe my father was unfairly criticised for the statements that he made on some of the political and defence issues of his time, and wanted to do something about it. Also, here in Coorg, it was believed that he did not do enough for the erstwhile princely State or for our community, the Kodavas."

I could give only a cursory reading to the book as the photographs in it, being of vintage value, were too distractive for me to concentrate on the text. As such I do not know to what extent the Air Marshal was able to vindicate his avowed reason for writing the book. I think I shall now shift my focus from those wonderful pictures to its text.

Another question posed to the Air Marshal in that interview was, "Why are there no war heroes now?" And the answer is worth reproducing here as the prevailing situation in our country is well and truly reflected in the answer. The Air Marshal says:

"My father often quoted a piece of doggerel that goes:
At times of war, and not before
God and soldier, we both adore.
But when all is righted,
God is forgotten and the soldier slighted."

Personally speaking, I am fortunate to have seen the then C – in - C, Gen. K. M. Cariappa in Mercara (now Madikeri) where he settled down after retirement from the Indian Army in 1953, the same year I came to Mercara and joined the famous (yes, famous indeed) Central High School where, now I learn from the book, the Field Marshal too studied. Soon after, he was appointed as High Commissioner to Australia and New Zealand till 1956. I vividly remember even now having seen him driving his black convertible Buick in Mercara and how people in that small town would get electrified seeing him drive through the roads. “The General is coming” was the password, or it could be “The C – in - C is coming” or for the young ones “Cariappajja” is coming would be the refrain and all eyes would rivet on that car as it purred along the wet road of few vehicles in those days.
Here I must recall my visit to his house, Roshanara, when I was a student in the High School. Myself and a cousin of mine were sent to the then General’s house Roshanara by a relative, Coluvanda Chinnappa, where we were staying, to handover a letter to the General. The General was not there at that time but the butler received us well and asked us to wait.

As children we were curious to know the cutlery and artifacts inside the house and were awestruck by the number of white metal or silver wares. In the meanwhile, the liveried butler gave us tea which we relished and soon the General came in his car which we could now see right in front of us. The canopy was folded back. As the General stepped out, we were nervous and made haste to touch his feet, as was our custom.

He was very, very affectionate, patting us on our back. As was his wont, he enquired about our family, the name of the family, and parents. My cousin quickly handed over the letter, which the General opened immediately, probably to make sure if an immediate reply was required. He asked if we had our tea and biscuits as he put aside the letter on the side table. The butler answered on our behalf in the affirmative; though we were disappointed about the biscuit. Incidentally, I was in Mercara when his wife died in an accident while returning home from the North Coorg Club in the night. I visited the spot along with my cousin and later the mortuary.

It was many years later that I met the General in Poona where I noticed he had improperly buttoned his coat and I ventured to button it properly, only to be protested as he himself did it. I recalled this incident when I read in the book about another incident that happened while the Field Marshal was staying in the Defence Services Staff College, Wellington, Ooty, in 1990, where his son Air Marshal was posted. It appears Field Marshal Maneckshaw, who was staying in Coonoor, had invited Field Marshal Cariappa to his house.

On arrival, Field Marshal Maneckshaw received Field Marshal Cariappa "and made it a point to tell him that his coat was properly buttoned." Reading this, I thought it was not surprising that I too found that the Field Marshal’s coat was not properly buttoned in Poona in the 70s. And this “miss buttoning” of the coat, an idiosyncrasy, seemed to be a common knowledge among his friends!

After I shifted to Mysore in 1977, I had a few more occasions to meet the Field Marshal. I specially remember the grand function the Kodava Samaja of Mysore had arranged at the Jaganmohan Palace to felicitate the grand - old man of Kodagu on his being decorated and honoured with the rank of Field Marshal. Ballachanda A. Nanaiah was the President of the Kodava Samaja and he had arranged a dinner at the Lalitha Mahal Palace Hotel.

The hospitality was uniquely Kodava and the traditional Kodava spirit was flowing everywhere. The champagne bottle was opened as befitting the occasion and the Field Marshal shared a drink with us. All of a sudden, Cariappajja asked the ladies around him, all in their traditional Kodava attire (they dare not dress otherwise and appear before him), to sing the famous Kodava song about the glory of Goddess Cauvery. After the initial hesitation, they broke into the song to the mirth of the Field Marshal. He then excused himself of his poor health and retired to the room we had booked in the same hotel. A few of us trooped into his room to bid him Good Night and suddenly one amongst us gave him a bottle of “Remy Martin”. While he wondered why all this fuss, he insisted that the bottle should be opened then and there and shared by all, himself sharing a chota peg as a night cap.

Thereafter, the last time I saw him was in the military hospital in Bangalore where he was hospitalized for long with an Army Major on duty. He appeared defiant even in the bed. As we waited, the Major told us that he would see us only after being properly dressed. He was rather apologetic. Finally when we were let in by the Major, we saw the Field Marshal come alive as if he had just had a cup of Nestle coffee. Of course, he was not in his suit and tie, but he made sure he was sitting on a chair “properly dressed” near the bed. That was the soldier he was. Truly, it is said a real soldier never dies. He simply fades away.

Indeed, Field Marshal K. M. Cariappa, the pride of Indian Army and Kodagu, especially Kodavas, the ultimate soldier, simply faded away.

Tailpiece:
The Field Marshal was known to end his speeches with a “Jai Hind” uttered with great intensity and conviction. Naturally, as a soldier, victory to his country was his credo.