IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 123 – YES, SIR Brig PS Gothra (Retd)
“At four-thirty we give bed tea, and even then one odd fellow is still trickling in for PT parade at six-thirty. How do you expect us to be ready for operations in two and a half hours in the operations area?”
The Subedar Saab said in disbelief. His remark came after I explained that our formation commander had announced during a sand-model discussion that we can mobilise in half the time.
Perhaps he wanted to impress his superior. Or perhaps he wanted to show down the neighbouring formation commander in front of his boss, who happened to be a strong proponent of the fashionable doctrine of the day — Cold Start.
But the Subedar knew soldiers better than any of us sitting around that sand model.
“Saab, our Tambhis are very hygienic people. They like to bathe properly, shave carefully, brush their teeth and freshen up before stepping out. Some of them spend five minutes just cleaning their tongue, making all those guttural sounds. Only after that do they feel ready to face the enemy.”
He was absolutely right. But I had perfected the art of being a Yes Man.
Instead of questioning the unrealistic timeline, we started inventing clever improvisations to make the plan appear workable. Soldiers were made to sleep inside their vehicles so that precious minutes could be saved. People were sent to the loo even when there was no need, just to “streamline” the routine. Drills were rehearsed repeatedly so that the timings looked impressive on paper.
The system was satisfied. Meanwhile, our neighbours across the border were watching. Pakistan became nervous and moved some of its cantonments closer to the border. Naturally we followed suit. We spent money on the infrastructure which could have been used for serious modernisation.
Looking back now, I realise, Yes Men can be more dangerous than the enemy.
History repeatedly proves this. In 1971, when Prime Minister Indira Gandhi asked General Sam Manekshaw whether the army could go to war immediately, he refused. It took courage to tell the Prime Minister “No.” But that honest “No” ensured that when India finally went to war in December 1971, the campaign lasted just thirteen days and resulted in one of the most decisive victories in military history.
Contrast that with other moments in history. Adolf Hitler gradually surrounded himself with generals who only told him what he wanted to hear. Strategic decisions were rarely challenged, and the result was catastrophic campaigns.
The Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961 offers another lesson. Several advisers privately doubted the plan but still agreed during meetings. The result was a humiliating failure for the United States.
Even in our own experience there were similar episodes. In 1987, during preparations for sending the Indian Peace Keeping Force to Sri Lanka, one enthusiastic officer tried to demonstrate how quickly his troops could mobilise. To prove the point he moved his troops to the airstrip.
Unfortunately, the media noticed. The story created considerable embarrassment for the government. Suddenly it looked as if India was preparing to move into Sri Lanka as an occupation force.
Today we blame the politicians of that era for the Sri Lankan misadventure. But it is difficult to believe that diplomats, intelligence agencies and military commanders did not also offer their own versions of “Yes, Sir.”
And so India landed in Sri Lanka with one of the most ambiguous missions in military history. Eventually we withdrew unceremoniously, leaving behind the graves of many brave soldiers.
Today as we watch the unfolding war in West Asia, the same pattern appears again.
The current conflict between Iran on one side and the United States and Israel on the other began after coordinated strikes on Iranian targets. The attacks killed senior Iranian leaders and triggered retaliation across the region.
Missiles, drones and air strikes have since spread across the Middle East — hitting American bases, Gulf infrastructure and even neighbouring countries.
Oil routes, air traffic and global markets are being shaken as the conflict widens.
Looking at such conflicts one always wonders what discussions happened behind closed doors before the first missile was fired. Were there people in those rooms who quietly felt the plan was flawed? Did someone think the war might spiral beyond control? And if they did, did they say so? Or did they simply say what the leadership wanted to hear?
Because wars do not start only because of bad intentions. Sometimes they start because too many people say “Yes.” Armies rarely fail because of lack of courage. They fail when honesty disappears from the chain of command.
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