Three Strikes and Not Out- Lt. Col. Achuthan Sahadeva Panicker (1924-2017)

Lt. Panicker (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S.Panicker (Retd.))

Most men have one life. And one death. Lieutenant Colonel A.S. Panicker had three. 

Strike 1

Achutan Sahadeva Panicker was given up for dead even before he opened his eyes for the first time. It was on Onam day, in 1924 that he was born in an Ezhava household near Kundara in Kollam, Travancore. He was the 8th of 9 children, born to Achutan Vaidyan and Parvathy Amma. The little baby was thought to be still born as he was not breathing. Just as his last rites were to be performed, he began to cry. A stunned family thanked their lucky stars that he cried out when he did. This was the dramatic way in which young Sahadevan entered this world. 

Life begins

Sahadevan attended his village school where he, like other children of his time, learnt to read and write first by drawing on mud and later on a slate. As he grew, he became a star football player. This love for football stayed with him throughout his life. Little wonder then, that he always pooh-poohed cricket as a lazy man’s game!

In the early 1940s, Sahadevan, a subject of the then princely state of Travancore, joined the British Indian Army as a clerk. Before long, a British officer with a keen eye, realised that this young man had the potential to become an officer. This was a rarity for natives in those days. Sahadevan was among the first Indians to pass through a newly formulated officer selection system, now known as the Services Selection Board. 

He recalled that the British instructors at the academy were firm yet kind. They motivated the officer cadets to do their best and drove them hard, but not once did they resort to any physical or verbal abuse. After the passing out parade, these British instructors were the first to salute their erstwhile charges.

in 1946, after his training, including a stint in Peshawar, now in Pakistan, Sahadevan was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant into the Royal Indian Army Service Corps. He was among the last batches of Indian officers to hold a King's Commission (KC).

Partition and After

Young Sahadevan was a witness to the agonies of partition. He bid farewell to those comrades in arms who chose to opt for Pakistan when partition happened. He always had vivid memories of hugs and handshakes on railway platforms while seeing off men he had trained and sweated beside. On 15th August 1947, he was posted in a place that now lies in Pakistan and saw first hand the events on the other side. He recalls one incident from this time. He had just joined his formation in India in September 1947. One of the Muslim officers in that formation had opted for Pakistan, and his family was in the process of migrating. The officer requested permission from the new Indian Commanding officer to visit his family and see them safely across to Pakistan. The Commanding Officer told him that he could not grant him leave at the time. However, he told the officer that he was free to go and do the needful on one condition. The CO would not inform the higher headquarters, but if the concerned officer was found AWOL or even killed, the Unit would deny all knowledge of how he got there. The officer accepted these terms, went on his errand and returned safely to the unit! He later followed his family to Pakistan.

Life, however, was never all seriousness and discipline for Sahadevan. He was an enthusiastic participant in the revelry that took place regularly in the Officer’s Mess. Once, after a long night of drinking and dancing in Bangalore, Sahadevan was speeding along to his quarters, on a bike. He sped past a traffic constable on MG Road who tried in vain to wave him down. 

The next day, he was summoned by his Commanding Officer. Apparently, the traffic constable had noted down his bike number and informed the Army, since Sahadevan happened to be in uniform. The only words the CO said to him were, “Panicker, I didn’t expect this from you.” A chastened Sahadevan then presumably stuck to the straight and narrow for several years, until one day, several decades later, he was again stopped for over speeding near Trivandrum Airport!

Strike 2 

In 1962, Sahadevan, then a Major, was posted as the Brigade Supply and Transport Officer of the 7th Brigade, commanded by Brig. John Dalvi.

This was when the Chinese attacked India. As Chinese troops poured across India’s Eastern border in the North Eastern Frontier Agency (NEFA, now Arunachal Pradesh), the 7th Brigade bore the brunt of the onslaught. Outmanned and outgunned, the brigade was decimated and Brig. Dalvi was taken prisoner. Faced with the prospect of unimaginable horrors if they were captured by the Chinese, the survivors of the Brigade , Sahadevan among them, decided to make for friendly Indian territory. Thus began an epic march of more than 7 weeks, across NEFA and Bhutan to reach Assam. All the while, the survivors were harassed by Chinese forward reconnaissance units. They marched day and night, often doubling back to cover their tracks and confuse their pursuers. They slept in graveyards with gravestones for pillows. All the while, they were just a few hours ahead of their pursuers. The nights were freezing and staying still was of little comfort. Years later, when Sahadevan’s daughter visited the Garden Namgyal Lhatse monastery in Tawang, Arunachal Pradesh, an aged monk recalled a night 55 years ago, when a group of Indian soldiers had slept on the grounds of the monastery, while evading capture by the Chinese. This was Sahadevan and his group. 

Meanwhile, the Army had declared Sahadevan Missing in Action and in his home state of Kerala, he was believed to be dead. A full page newspaper article about Sahadevan was published in one of the leading dailies. 

This was the second time Sahadevan cheated death. Braving physical and mental odds beyond description, he and his comrades managed to reach safe Indian territory once more. Sahadevan was severely frostbitten and had marched for days bearing immense pain. It was the skilled treatment of the Army Doctors which saved him. Those days, communication was not what it is now. The group of soldiers had been out of touch for weeks and had no clue that the Chinese had in fact declared a unilateral withdrawal a few days before. It was as if these soldiers had actually returned from the dead.  This march was a testimony to Sahadevan’s superhuman endurance and sheer will to survive. 

Later years and retirement

Sahadevan’s military career took him all over India. He was stationed in Jammu and Kashmir much before the insurgency and remembers it to be a calm, serene and very enjoyable place. He enjoyed boating in the Dal Lake and picnics in Pahalgam. His service took him to many places including Udhampur, Lucknow, Bhatinda, Ahmednagar, Trichy and even Trivandrum.

Sahadevan, kneeling first from right, with other officers in Jammu and Kashmir (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S. Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan with his brand new Fiat in Trichy, 1972. (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S.Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan, out riding. (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S. Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan frequently referred to an incident from 1970. An officer from Sahdevan’s formation was carrying a crate of Apples, freshly arrived from Kashmir, through the Officer’s Mess, looking puffed up with self importance. He informed everyone that it was his proud duty to deliver these apples as a gift to Lt. General Moti Sagar, on a senior officer’s instructions. A few hours later, this officer was spotted in the officer’s mess, looking crestfallen and staring woefully at the same crate of apples. What had happened was that Gen Moti Sagar politely told him that he had never asked for any apples from anybody and would not accept them. When he wanted apples, he would buy them and pay for them himself. The officer had to thus bring back the apples and inform the unnamed senior officer that Gen. Moti Sagar did not want his apples!

Sahadevan, standing extreme left in the second row from the front. (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S.Panicker (Retd.))

On retirement from the Army, Sahadevan, who had spent most of his adult life outside his home state, decided to settle down with his wife in Kerala itself.

The physical fitness which had seen him survive the forced march across North Eastern India and Bhutan held him in good stead all his life. Never did he grow a paunch or fall ill for more than a day. He was regular with his walks and made it a point to emphasise on the importance of taking care of one’s body and mind. 

Sahadevan liked his two drinks in the evening. Sometimes three wouldn’t hurt either. In 1985, the younger of his two daughters informed him that she was in love with a young Army Captain. Sahadevan asked a trusted friend to make inquiries about this Captain. One nugget of information sought by Sahadevan was if this prospective son in law drank. The friend, in his after action report, assured him that the Captain enjoyed his drinks. Thus, the match was fixed! Even on the the eve of his death, Sahadevan had his usual two tots of brandy. 

For many years, Sahadevan had also been a smoker. One day, in the mid 1970s, he asked a representative of the cigarette company the reason for such cheap supply of cigarettes to the Indian Army. The gentleman very frankly told him that it was because they would then have lifelong customers. The next day onwards, Sahadevan quit smoking cold turkey! He never smoked again as long as he lived.

Panicker, standing third from right and other officers with Gen JN Chaudhuri, former Chief of Army Staff. (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S Panicker (Retd.))

Strike 3 

On the 11th of September 2017, a few days after celebrating his 93rd birthday on Onam, Sahadevan finally called it a day. The old soldier, dignified in death, as in life had made a deep impression on all who knew him. He had outlived all his sisters and brothers and many of his nieces and nephews. In a life spanning more than 9 decades, Sahadevan had seen it all. He continues to inspire his nearest and dearest. 

He and his wife Sumathi were married for more than 60 years and the couple have two daughters, four grandchildren and one great grandson. Not bad for someone who wasn’t even supposed to live for a day. 
Sahadevan led an organised and disciplined life. It was also a life of great action and adventure. Now as he leaves on his final journey, JK Rowling’s immortal line comes to mind. “ After all, to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.”

Sahadevan (from the personal collection of Lt.Col. A.S. Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan with his wife Sumathi (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S.Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan with his wife and two daughters. (from the personal collection of Lt.Col A.S.Panicker (Retd.))

Sahadevan, at extreme right, with friends in Jammu and Kashmir (from the personal collection of Lt. Col. A.S. Panicker (Retd.))