A Tribute: REMEMBERING TONY (BRIGADIER LS LIDDER, SM,VSM)

He was known amongst professionals for his acumen, his astuteness and his sharp military intellect.

BY Brig Anirban Dutta, SM

How do you even start writing an obituary for a classmate? How do you sound respectful and reverent? When all the memories flitting through your mind are memories of mindless mischief? There are of course other memories too. Memories which fill your heart with pride. Pride for a friend who had distinguished himself in the profession of arms.

While we who grew up with him know of his boundless energy, his warmth and his love for his friends. He was known amongst professionals for his acumen, his astuteness and his sharp military intellect. It is said that amongst the officers of his generation, he had the makings of a Chief. A Chief of the Army we will now never have.

But as I put my thoughts in order, and pen to paper, all that seems to come pouring out is stuff that would possibly only have made Tony laugh. So I’ll just let it flow, without form, just as our chatter as 10-11 year olds would be.

Kendriya Vidyalaya Mhow- 1980 – 81. Anyone who has studied in a decent enough convent school or public school would squirm at the sight of the two old Bungalows in Swarg Mandir. I had studied in Bishops Pune and couldn’t for the life of me imagine that the rundown premises housed a school! A school that we from that generation of fauji brats in Mhow eventually grew to love. Our bonds, our memories of childhood meander along its unkempt grounds and spooky classrooms with huge windows.Incredulously; there was an entrance exam for the four seats in sixth standard! And there were seven of us! I first met Tony in a tiny hall when we sat for this exam, a tiny bespectacled little boy, with a tiny white juda and a smile that started from his eyes, shone through his spectacles, spread all over his tiny face and reached you, warming the cockles of your heart. As the years passed, a lot changed. Tony grew up, but that special smile remained I’d like to think. He reserved it for some of us.

Back to that day…

We hit it off instantly. He was a great talker and immediately started planning out all the fun we were going to have in the year that was going to be.The test results came, Tony was 4th and I think, I didn’t make the grade.I was sad. Tony came around and gave me a big hug. That was the first of the many bear hugs I got from him over the last 40 years!

While my parents were wondering where to school me, the School authorities relented(there were very few options in Mhow back then) and I became part of KV MHOW, and more importantly Tony’s classmate, Class 6 B. School days in the winters of Mhow were lovely, a trifle languid.Someone had a small transistor and we would all gather around to listen to the test match commentary.

Tony decided to liven things up. He introduced us to the game of French cricket. A game where the batsman stood in the center of a small circle and defended his ankles from a bunch of fielders who would hurl a cork ball that hurt like hell.We had a cork ball, but we didn’t have a bat so Tony, enterprising as he was, yanked off the leg of an old desk and that became the bat. The game caught everyone’s fancy. Scoring runs meant walloping the ballad, rotating the bat around yourself as fast as you could for every rotation counted for a run.

We invented rules as we went along. For instance, ‘one tip one hand’, meant that if you took a catch after the first bounce with one hand, you got the batsman out. The bigger guys would smack the ball all over. Tony mastered the art of the delectable glances and flicks and timing his jumps to avoid the ball. Cricket in all forms was the flavour of the season. When we were forced to be in class, we played ‘book cricket’, another delightful game Tony introduced us to.

Time passed; Happy times, riotous days. Tony had this penchant for conjuring up the most horrendous nicknames. So our Hindi teacher, who was quite a marish, was KaaliGhodi. She was a serious soul and took herself and her classes quite seriously. As she did, the tests that she set us. She was a great knitter and could set a paper, dish out the answer sheets and knit at great speed and glaring balefully at us, without so much as looking down at her knitting.

She was doing just that during the half year lies… The test was outdoors as our class room roof had caved in. Most of the girls had breezed through the paper while some of us guys were still struggling.She made us all sit apart so that we wouldn’t peep into each other’s papers(not that there was much to peep into!) . All the while, she had her eyes on us while she knitted furiously. So intent was she on catching the slightest misdemeanor that she simply didn’t sense the presence of a huge goat who trundled by and started chewing up the answer sheets handed in by the brighter kids. I opened my mouth and caught Tony’s eye glinting dangerously and shut my mouth. We bent our heads, scratching at our papers, while the goat feasted. Ms Kali Ghodi sensed something was wrong (we had never been so good and earnest) and looked over her shoulder. What followed was colourful! She turned apoplectic. We turned purple with the efforts of keeping a straight face and fighting an urge to give way to uncontrolled mirth and then she let out a banshee scream, which shook the foundations of the school and set the goat off like a racehorse! We were rolling with laughter and Tony’s specs were misty…

That was just one happy day. Everyday was joyful, exciting with one happy day melting into another, and what remains now is a bundle of jumbled happy memories.

Our best memories were of cycling to school. Talking all the way, sharing dreams, sharing fears. Confiding in each other about everything and yes …even our little crushes! Tony and I had the same crushes… and the same fears..(He was a trifle annoyed about that bit and told me off… in all seriousness at the age of 12…He that this just wouldn’t do. I couldn’t like the same girls he liked!)

We were both a little worried that the other guys in class were shooting up, filling up, their voices were breaking, and there was this hint of a mustache some of them had and we didn’t. (This was in the Eighth standard). Tony confessed that this bit was worrisome. He said he wanted to be at least six feet tall and we just weren’t getting there. Tony being Tony, immediately thought of a way out. We were to hang from the football post everyday after school. I don’t know if the hanging helped, but when I met Tony next in 1987, we were both tall and gangly.

Good times come to an end, rather too quickly. In 1983, we moved to Shillong.. Like everyone who has ever passed through the hallowed portals of KV Mhow, I missed the school. I missed my friends and the easy familiarity of the town. Shillong was cold and wet and I puked on the school bus on my first day to school. Of course later, KV Shillongalso became so much a part of me… but that’s another story.

Friendships, in pre face book times, were difficult to sustain. You had to write. That was difficult if you had bad handwriting. I missed my friends so much that I wrote a long letter to our favourite teacher Suprabha Ma’am who had a lovely hand! She replied, filling me in with all the news of all my friends. That was really kind of her and I realised how fond of us she was. But that was that. I lost touch with my batch of KV Mhow eventually, we all went our separate ways to different schools (except for a lucky few who got to complete their schooling from KV Mhow! )

But like all Fauji brats of our generation, the Army was a big draw. A good number of us joined the NDA.If the decision about girls in NDA had been taken back then the Fauji girls from our generation, especially from KV Mhow would have far outnumbered the boys!

NDA has this system of clans, school types, who lookout for each other. You have theRimcollians, the Georgians, the Sainik school types. It’s a great system where young cadets develop a sense of belonging.We the KV types are a little lost, not really having a formal alumni association.I joined in the spring term of 1987, having flunked the exam for the 77th course.. Most of the class had joined a term before in the winters of ’86.Umesh Varma, Pari, Sandy Behl, Rajkumar and Tony were already there and were serious third termers. I saw Tony after four years, he was tall, even more effusive and a great hugger! We were in different bns and rarely got to meet. But he ensured that I knew everyone around, even those who had joined the school after me.

I think the 77 th course started this informal association of the KV Mhow types. I was the lone cadet in my course, Ajay Duggal and SK Singh followed a course later. Then in IMA, Ajay Sumant and Paramveer joined us and we have a fairly large bunch in the forces from the same class… (I might even have missed a few names! ) NDA passed, IMA passed; we got commissioned and went our separate ways.In 1995, I met Tony’s parents in Panchkula and then Tony, when he came on leave.

For anyone reading this rambling, for anyone who knew Tony only as an Army Officer, I’d like to say that it was this stage of his life that set him apart from the rest. He was tall, lithe with an impressive military bearing. He had already been blooded in the valley. He had a chest full of medals to show, Sena medal gallantry and a wound medal. He had done fantastically in his courses. He was amongst the first infantry Officers to get selected for the degree course; the preserve of the technical arms and he was topping every exam there as well!

Tony was living our childhood dreams.. He was the quintessential handsome and dashing young army officer we had idolised as 12 year old in Mhow. And that was when I got to meet the beautiful, charming and vivacious Geetika, a perfect match for Tony.Anyone else, would never have been able to match up to my friend. But Geetika, even as a young Offrs wife, was elegant and poised and again a great person to talk to.

I got to meet them whenever they came to Panchkula. In these times, the family unfortunately went through two tragedies. Seeing Aunty, Kitty Di, Peter and Mehenga Uncle, I realised where Tony got his strength and drive from. They stood strong and weathered every storm that came their way.

Time passed, I lost touch for a brief while again, but I did see him going for the Junior Command Course.I think there are very few officers who have been awarded a Delta Grade on this course. Tony is one of them.I also met Tony when he was an instructor in NDA. This was before Aashna was born and Geetika had set up a beautiful home.

Our meetings became less frequent thereafter. But by then, Tony was spoken of everywhere. I remember visiting Bangladesh on a multi platoon exercise. Tony had been there on a course, I forget which. The BangladeshOfficers asked me if I knew a certain Major Lakhwinder. They were absolutely impressed with his caliber and his ability to articulate.

Tony was a people’s person. He would always be there for people he cared about, or formed bonds with. It is this quality of his, his ability to reach out, to connect, to break barriers that endeared him to everyone.

I remember, he had just finished with the Higher Command Course. This was in 2012. My ex CO’s daughter was getting married in Delhi. Tony had served with him in Reasi and was fond of him. He drove nonstop from Mhow to Delhi to make it in time. Suddenly, I felt warm arms wrapping themselves around me from behind and lifting me clean off my feet! At Six feet two there are very few people who can lift me off my feet.Tony was one of them! And there was that bear hug again. I’ll always, always miss that hug!

That was Tony for you… He touched lives…

Everything… everywhere will always remind us of him. I could go on and on… I think here I must hand over the narrative to Parimal,Umesh, Sandy and others who were also his coursemates… and knew so much more about him.

Today, I witnessed the passing out parade in IMA.

The Adjutant on his white charger strode across the drill square. As he rode, I saw an Adjutant of a different Era, I saw my friend Tony, resplendent in winter ceremonials, sitting tall, sitting erect, his sword glinting in the winter sun following the passing out course on horseback. Through the hallowed portals of Chetewode, across the Antim Pag… as the doors of Chetwode closed behind him.

(The author is a serving officer in the Indian Army. Views expressed are personal and do not reflect the official position or policy of Financial Express Online. Reproducing this content without permission is prohibited).