Dukki Camp!

The feeling of being born in the squadron is ever exhilarating, because only after nine months of joining NDA and completing the second term Camp-Greenhorn, you finally become an Injun (or a Jaguar...or as per the squadron you belong)!

When I was a dukki undergoing the camp, me and my coursemates followed a simple trick.

This trick was PCK from our overstudy tikkis who held the previous term’s plaque. They taught us with great arrogance “As you move along in pitch darkness of the night, each of you must whisper the name of any obstacle to your coursemate behind in a chain, so that no one would be surprised and utter a cry that would disclose your position and most importantly, avoid getting hurt.”
 

During the runback, which is the crucial finishing event of the camp, we clambered about with various DP-type fakes for SLRs, RLs and other weapons around our necks and mammoth packs across our shoulders until we could finally organize ourselves with the skilled Assamese cadet in the front.

The distinctive lead man in our single line meandering rod-like formation effortlessly moved to the fore with me and the rest behind, following him like sheep to a shepherd.

As we moved along through the thick undergrowth in the jungle our hero occasionally turned around and whispered to me "Lakdi" or "Pathhar” or “Kaante” which I would pass along.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash ahead of me and then, from several feet down I heard a single meekly whispered word filled with pain—"Guddha!"