Bipin: The Man Behind the Uniform

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On the morning of 8 December 2021, India's Chief of Defence Staff, General Bipin Rawat. and his wife, Madhulika, said goodbye to their daughter, Tarini, and left their Delhi home to board a flight for Sulur, Tamil Nadu. Around 11.48 a.m., they boarded a Mi-17 V5 helicopter that took off from Sulur for Wellington, where Gen. Rawat was to deliver a lecture. Just a few minutes away from its destination, the chopper crashed. It was a shocking end to the life of a man who had risen like a meteor in the defence forces.

Bipin: The Man behind the Uniform is the story of the NDA cadet who was relegated for not being able to do a mandatory jump into the swimming pool; of the young Second Lieutenant whose ID card was stolen at the Amritsar railway station by a 5/11 Gorkha Rifles officer posing as his sahayak; of the Major, with a leg in plaster, who was carried up to his company post on the Pakistan border because he insisted on joining his men for Dussehra, even under direct enemy observation; of the Army Chief who decided that India would retaliate openly to every act of cross-border terrorism; of the Chief of Defence Staff who was happiest when he was dancing the jhamre with his Gorkha troops.

Featuring in-depth interviews with Gen. Rawat's friends, family members and comrades, this book traces the life of one of India's greatest and most controversial Generals.

RACHNA BISHT RAWAT is the author of seven books by Penguin Random House India, including the bestsellers The Brave and Kargil. She lives in Gurgaon with Hukum, the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed golden retriever; an eclectic collection of books and music; and Col Manoj Rawat, the man in Olive Green, who met her when he was a Gentleman Cadet at the Indian Military Academy and offered to be her comrade for life. Occasionally, they are visited by Saransh the wise, who has moved out to explore the world on his own.

As crystal a memory can be, on 4 December 2021, in 5/11 Gorkha Rifles at Shanker Vihar, Bipin, Madhu, Payal and I were foreseeing ourselves sitting on rocking chairs next to a bonfire in Dehradun in our twilight years. It was not to be! On that fateful day, Madhu (though many of her friends called her Maddy, I could never do so) sent a picture with the unit Subedar Major on WhatsApp, saying, Will call you in the evening. That evening was not to come. There were plans and plans that went a-begging.

There are memories and memories, some so trivial that they do not merit recounting! At exercises, Utpal Roy, Durgaprasad, Bipin and I invariably carried 'lotas' together for morning calls. Unimaginable today. I recollect that while doing pre-course training of 81 mm Mortars in 9 DOGRA, in US Club, Colaba, we suddenly heard the renowned baritone of Raaj Kumar, the famous actor, who was playing golf there. We asked the NCO instructor permission to go and shake hands with the actor. The instructor was so annoyed that he made us both lift up a base plate each and go around the green on which Raaj Kumar was putting. The actor saw us and gave a hearty laugh, and we were embarrassed like hell! Of course, we shook hands, and he obliged us by saying "jaani" in his inimitable way.

Indeed, Bipin and I had differences, and some discussions sounded as if on the warpath! We differed and agreed in equal measure, discussed every known issue or personality threadbare. That was the strength of our relationship, always. It was a relationship that cannot have a suitable adjective!

We visited each other at all our postings and at homes. Gen. and Mrs Lakshman Rawat were blessed to have Bipin and Madhu looking after them through their lives so well, at Arun Vihar, Noida. I recall Gen. Lakshman Rawat at the Flag Staff House at Baramulla, when Bipin was commanding the Division; this was the same house that Gen. Lakshman Rawat had occupied in the carly '80s.

I have not seen in my life the kind of recognition that Bipin and Madhu got in their demise, at 3 Kamraj Road, with swelling crowds, serpentine queues of the public at large, and people running along the cortège to Brar Square for the last rites. The Delhi-Haridwar road was lined with people with flowers as we were on our way with the last remains. And Haridwar itself! Such recognition comes to the 'rarest of the rare', and I recollect writing that phrase in the only confidential report that I had the greatest of privilege writing on Bipin, as my Second-in-Command.

Rachna Bisht Rawat has been most persuasive and forceful in putting together the life of Bipin, in her inimitable way. When we first met, I recollect mentioning to her, 'Do justice to my dearest friends. Anything short of that will be unacceptable to me!' The outcome is an eminently readable book; the best compliment is that the first read moistened my eyes.

In August 2019, when the nation was commemorating the twentieth anniversary of Operation Vijay, popularly known as the Kargil war, I went to the South Block, Central Secretariat, at Raisina Hill in Delhi, to gift the then Chief of Army Staff, General Bipin Rawat, a copy of my book Kargil.

Accompanied by my editor Gurveen Chadha and son, Saransh, I stood in the meeting room, with all the twenty-five previous Chiefs of the Indian Army looking down at me-stately and dignified, each one of them capable of making authors nervous with their gaze, even if it only came from a portrait on the wall. Two beautiful paintings-marking India's two historic war victories, 1971 and Kargil-adorned facing walls. We were still looking around when the General walked in, perfectly on time, looking distinguished in his olive-green uniform.

Casual and smiling, he reached out to shake hands with me, with Gurveen and with Saransh, who was then a rebellious teenager and had absolutely refused to get his long hair cut for this meeting, despite repeated calls from his Army officer dad to do so. Manoj was posted in Allahabad those days and was horrified by the thought of his son going to meet his Chief with untidy hair.

I apologized to Gen. Rawat for Saransh's hair, but he just looked at Saransh and inquired, 'Do you want to join the Army, young man?" 'No, sir. I want to be a commercial pilot." This from a boy who belongs to a family that has given generations of soldiers. I cringed.

But Gen. Rawat's smile stayed as warm. 'That is perfectly fine. Not everybody needs to join the Army or keep their hair short. All the best to you,' he said, winning over a teenage fan right away. We had been told that the Chief was following a very tight schedule and could give us just ten minutes, which should be enough for a quick photo shoot, where he would accept a copy of the book from me. Not only did he do that, but he also helpfully suggested that we stand under the painting of soldiers hoisting the national flag on a captured peak in Kargil: and he sat down next to me, looking relaxed and unhurried as he asked questions about the book and the people I had interviewed.

Since he appeared so approachable, I asked him to verify a story I had heard about him: about how he had recently been stopped by a young soldier on guard duty in the cantonment (when he had been driving his own car) and asked to show his ID card. He laughed and assured me it was true, and added, 'He was just doing his job. And doing it well.'

He then told us about a helicopter crash he had survived in Dimapur: the helicopter he was travelling in as Corps Commander had developed a snag and crashed soon after lifting off. He said that all he had suffered were a few cuts and bruises. All those present in the room that day marvelled at the story of his miraculous escape. 'It was the grace of god,' he said, and, waiting courteously for me to finish my tea, wished me luck and left.

Book's Contents and Sample Pages