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Pakistan Military Academy
'The Last of the Bengal Lancers'
Brig (Retd) FRANCIS HB INGALL was the British army officer who was selected to create the Pakistan Military Academy in 1947, finally established in January 1948. This is the first of two excerpts from his book.
So India was to become independent. My Army, the Imperial Indian Army, would no longer exist. I was still young, only thirty-nine. I had had a successful war. I had achieved my fondest ambition - to command my regiment in battle. In the staff world I had held the most sought-after post of GSO1 of one of the famous fighting divisions, the 8th Indian. I had been decorated. But now what would I do? I felt somewhat confused. While I had a recurring urge to try something new, and was toying with the idea of a business career, it was the desire to remain a soldier that was foremost in my heart.
I could, I knew, transfer to the British Army. All officers of the Indian Army had been graded in the event that they might transfer; if they elected to retire they would receive a bounty; if they chose to transfer the bounty would be smaller. I also knew that certain selected officers might be retained on the Imperial Indian Army List, for temporary secondment to either the new Indian Army or the Pakistan Army in training or advisory capacities. Those taking up such appointments would be paid the higher bounty, and the officers concerned would be carried on a special list at Supreme Army Headquarters, New Delhi, commanded by Field-Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck; Supreme HQ would continue for at least five years and officers on loan to the two new armies would be permitted to count the time served towards their regular pension.
I had two years to go before qualifying for my full regular pension in the rank of major, my official peacetime rank. Special rules did allow high ranks held during the war to count towards enhanced allowances, but the basic requirement was for a full twenty years' service. It therefore seemed that if I now opted out of the Army, I would forgo a full pension.
It was while I was mulling over the various alternatives that I was summoned to see Sir Claude Auchinleck, the Commander-in-Chief. This was most unusual. Comparatively junior officers are not normally sent for directly by the C-in-C. I made a few enquiries, but no one knew why I'd been sent for: not my immediate boss, the Director of Military Operations, nor even his boss, the Chief of the General Staff. I was still very much in the dark as I straightened my tie, pulled down my jacket and set off to see the big white chief.
I had known Sir Claude Auchinleck throughout my service; although I was to have my differences with him later, I always found him the most charming of men. I was ushered into his office and he immediately put me at my ease. Another man was present, whom I recognized from his photographs in the Press - Liaquat Ali Khan. Liaquat was a lawyer by profession and he was to be the workhorse who put the new state of Pakistan together; he became Pakistan's first Prime Minister. But at the time his presence only served to deepen my mystification.
Minutes later, all was clear. I was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime - the opportunity of founding the Pakistan Military Academy.
16 - Partition
Naturally I accepted the invitation to set up the Pakistan Military Academy. As Sir Claude Auchinleck and Liaquat Ali Khan explained, the new Pakistan Army obviously needed its own supply of young officers - and quickly. In short, Pakistan would need a Sandhurst, a West Point, a Duntroon of her own. During the war I had spent a short but successful term as Commandant of the Armoured Corps Officers' Training School at Ahmednagar, near Bombay; I thus had some first-hand knowledge of what this job would entail. The appointment would carry the rank of brigadier to begin with and would last as long as it took to get the place established and producing first-class young officers on a regular basis, though in the first instance I signed an agreement to serve Pakistan for three years, until August, 1950.
Not everyone thought I was doing the right thing. The Adjutant-General, Sir Reginald Savory, told me bluntly that he thought me a fool; he had taken an interest in my career ever since the day he inspected the OTS at Ahmednagar while I was in command. I ought to opt for transfer to the British Army, he said; he even showed me my grade and said that as an officer with 'Al' against my name I would have an excellent future in the British Army. 'Damn few in that bracket,' he barked. 'You'll be a damn fool not to transfer to them.'
But I had made up my mind. I had once hoped I might return to Sandhurst as an instructor; but this was even better. To create a military academy from scratch and command it - I just could not resist.
http://www.defencejournal.com/dec98/pma.htm
'The Last of the Bengal Lancers'
Brig (Retd) FRANCIS HB INGALL was the British army officer who was selected to create the Pakistan Military Academy in 1947, finally established in January 1948. This is the first of two excerpts from his book.
So India was to become independent. My Army, the Imperial Indian Army, would no longer exist. I was still young, only thirty-nine. I had had a successful war. I had achieved my fondest ambition - to command my regiment in battle. In the staff world I had held the most sought-after post of GSO1 of one of the famous fighting divisions, the 8th Indian. I had been decorated. But now what would I do? I felt somewhat confused. While I had a recurring urge to try something new, and was toying with the idea of a business career, it was the desire to remain a soldier that was foremost in my heart.
I could, I knew, transfer to the British Army. All officers of the Indian Army had been graded in the event that they might transfer; if they elected to retire they would receive a bounty; if they chose to transfer the bounty would be smaller. I also knew that certain selected officers might be retained on the Imperial Indian Army List, for temporary secondment to either the new Indian Army or the Pakistan Army in training or advisory capacities. Those taking up such appointments would be paid the higher bounty, and the officers concerned would be carried on a special list at Supreme Army Headquarters, New Delhi, commanded by Field-Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck; Supreme HQ would continue for at least five years and officers on loan to the two new armies would be permitted to count the time served towards their regular pension.
I had two years to go before qualifying for my full regular pension in the rank of major, my official peacetime rank. Special rules did allow high ranks held during the war to count towards enhanced allowances, but the basic requirement was for a full twenty years' service. It therefore seemed that if I now opted out of the Army, I would forgo a full pension.
It was while I was mulling over the various alternatives that I was summoned to see Sir Claude Auchinleck, the Commander-in-Chief. This was most unusual. Comparatively junior officers are not normally sent for directly by the C-in-C. I made a few enquiries, but no one knew why I'd been sent for: not my immediate boss, the Director of Military Operations, nor even his boss, the Chief of the General Staff. I was still very much in the dark as I straightened my tie, pulled down my jacket and set off to see the big white chief.
I had known Sir Claude Auchinleck throughout my service; although I was to have my differences with him later, I always found him the most charming of men. I was ushered into his office and he immediately put me at my ease. Another man was present, whom I recognized from his photographs in the Press - Liaquat Ali Khan. Liaquat was a lawyer by profession and he was to be the workhorse who put the new state of Pakistan together; he became Pakistan's first Prime Minister. But at the time his presence only served to deepen my mystification.
Minutes later, all was clear. I was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime - the opportunity of founding the Pakistan Military Academy.
16 - Partition
Naturally I accepted the invitation to set up the Pakistan Military Academy. As Sir Claude Auchinleck and Liaquat Ali Khan explained, the new Pakistan Army obviously needed its own supply of young officers - and quickly. In short, Pakistan would need a Sandhurst, a West Point, a Duntroon of her own. During the war I had spent a short but successful term as Commandant of the Armoured Corps Officers' Training School at Ahmednagar, near Bombay; I thus had some first-hand knowledge of what this job would entail. The appointment would carry the rank of brigadier to begin with and would last as long as it took to get the place established and producing first-class young officers on a regular basis, though in the first instance I signed an agreement to serve Pakistan for three years, until August, 1950.
Not everyone thought I was doing the right thing. The Adjutant-General, Sir Reginald Savory, told me bluntly that he thought me a fool; he had taken an interest in my career ever since the day he inspected the OTS at Ahmednagar while I was in command. I ought to opt for transfer to the British Army, he said; he even showed me my grade and said that as an officer with 'Al' against my name I would have an excellent future in the British Army. 'Damn few in that bracket,' he barked. 'You'll be a damn fool not to transfer to them.'
But I had made up my mind. I had once hoped I might return to Sandhurst as an instructor; but this was even better. To create a military academy from scratch and command it - I just could not resist.
http://www.defencejournal.com/dec98/pma.htm
