Humour with a Twist. What’s in a Name? Or for that matter, in a Number?

The Navy decided one fine day, sometime in 2011, that handsome Captain RK Dahiya (my seven readers will know that that is me) was the most appropriate guy to commission (ceremoniously induct) a new ship for our Navy from, and in, Russia. Excited at this honour, and pumped to the hilt, I quickly turned to the one person who knows everything, err Mr Google, to get a jump start and know a bit about my new ship. Google didn’t disappoint me and a surprisingly large amount of data could be ascertained in great detail, some of which if I reproduce here, would amount to treason and a violation of the OSA. Fatefully, Google also told me that the ship’s pennant number (the number painted on a ship’s side as an identifier) was F45.

I joined the rest of the Team in Mumbai in preparation for our departure for Russia and a quick check with the staff confirmed that our ship was indeed F45. Thereafter time passed in a blur with various administrative details, getting passports/clearances for everyone, sorting out the logistics, etc. After a few months of frenetic activity, we all landed up in a shockingly cold Russia sometime in end December. (The coldest day we experienced was incidentally minus 27 degrees. But that isn’t what this post is about).

Three days before the commissioning ceremony, it struck me that while I had read all orders/communications wrt our ships name, commissioning procedures, etc, I hadn’t sighted any that stated our pennant number was F45. Now who is the one person more reliable than Google? The EXO! (Executive Officer, also the second in command of the ship). So, I called him and put forth my query – “Do we have any orders designating us as F45”. The EXO, full of reassuring confidence, asked for two minutes to come up with the document. Relieved at the exuded confidence, I settled down to wait for him. Two minutes passed and so did two hours. Ultimately, the EXO fetched up after about three hours looking quite reluctant to make my acquaintance. Now my EXO was as such alabaster skinned, but at that moment he looked even more so, perhaps even ghostly white. He walked up to me with a careworn face and uttered these mind-numbing words – “Sorry Sir, but our pennant number is not F45, it is F 50”. As you can well imagine I goggled. The EXO in commiseration goggled too. It wouldn’t have surprised me if anyone sighting us then would have mistaken it to be a goggling competition. We goggled so much that no words were exchanged for a full minute. My mind in a turmoil, I contemplated shouting at him, crying with him, wringing his neck and other such wholly useless ideas. 

But calmness in the face of adversity is what I am known for and hence after three full minutes of goggling, I asked him in as calm a demeanour as I could summon – “Do we have any gifts (you know those trinkets we tend to distribute during such occasions – key chains, paper weights, tie pins, cuff links, caps, crests, commemorative coins, etc) that do not have F45 printed/embossed on them? The EXO replied in the negative and unhelpfully added that the visitor’s book (to be signed by the Chief Guest and other dignitaries) also had F45 proudly emblazoned across it in font size 48. And as an afterthought, he also let it slip in that the invitation cards which had already been sent out to all invitees including our Ambassador, the Mayor of the city and the local Commander-in-Chief of the Russian Navy, too reflected the same blasted number.  

Now besides calmness of manner, and even though I say it myself, I am also known for quick decision making. So, I said, “EXO, okay then, we will not distribute any gifts during the commissioning. And we will request the Russians to quickly repaint our pennant number on the ship’s side to reflect the correct one”. The EXO, quite aware of the magnitude of our predicament and the repercussions thereon, nodded in acceptance. 

But wait! Even though I said it earlier myself, you now know that I am of a calm manner and a quick decision maker. Please allow me to add that I am a man of action too. Being aware that every member of the crew would be looking at their Captain to do SOMETHING, I thought, what the heck, lemme give it a try. I called up the Admiral dealing with such issues at Naval Headquarters. Having not even a modicum of an excuse to fall back upon, I gave him a brief of the situation in a rather convoluted, rambling and ‘unbrief’ manner. 

As soon as he got the import of my rambling, he, quite understandably, took off like a rocket and lectured me on the seriousness of the issue, the ramifications, the reactions of the senior hierarchy, the embarrassment it would cause us in a foreign country, etc. Precisely the thoughts that were already in my mind. Mustering all my courage, I cut him short and said, “Sir, now is not the time for shouting. I’ll call you AFTER the commissioning and you can shout to your heart’s content then. But presently, we need to change the ship’s number to F45”. I thought I had got through to him. But he recommenced his lecture with renewed vigour, this time educating me on the complexity of the task, the volume of file work involved, the expected reactions of the Chief of Naval Staff, The Defence Minister, and so on. However, recognizing the enormity of the diplomatic fiasco that we were potentially facing he, bless his heart, finally consented to try his best; without any assurance though. 

I don’t know what the Admiral did, but I and the entire crew of the ship will always remember him very fondly. The next morning we got a fax from Naval Headquarters – “For F50 read F45”. Whew!!!