Military Housing: Tales of Maintenance Guys (MG) and Fauji Struggles

Life in the Armed Forces is, like I have said many times earlier, pretty good. Excellent camaraderie, a reasonable work life balance and military housing that has converted the poet Longfellow’s words – ‘into each life some rain must fall’, into policy. The rain for example, doesn’t just fall. It seeps right into your cupboard or bedroom. 

How so? Well, by introducing into your life, people who, for want of a better description, can be called the Maintenance Guy(s) (MG). The guys who maintain our houses.

Some of my readers will recall that I have grumbled about military housing issues in the past – mainly about the difficulties in getting a house in the first place. For example here, here and should that not be enough, here too. Well, this saga relates to what happens after one gets a house, for that is when we get to come across the MG, possibly the greatest exponents of the dark arts. I have always wondered why they were never used as the ‘Red Team’ in our tactical exercises, proficient as they are in one of the important principles of war – surprise.

On being allotted a house, one needs to ‘take over’ the house from the MG. The ‘taking over’ is fairly straight forward, where the house is inspected, deficiencies noted and an inventory of the furniture and fittings tallied. All in carbon triplicate of course.

Things become tricky however, when one needs to hand the house back to the MG once one is transferred out of station (a fairly frequent happening in the Forces, say roughly every 18-24 months).

This time the MG who had exhibited the enthusiasm of a sedated sloth when handing over the house, becomes an adrenaline enhanced nitpicker. He will inspect every corner with a microscope. His magic eye will find future cracks in glass panes where your eyes can see none in the present. He will switch on every light and flush every flush tank to assess its functionality – And charge the occupant something quaintly called ‘barrack damages’, should he find matters not up to his satisfaction.

Take my own case. When it came to hand over my first house back to the MG, he came into the house and made a beeline straight for the bathroom. He bent down below the sink (thus giving me an alluring look at the seat of his well worn pants too), and pointed to a crack in one out of sight corner. Clairvoyance? Check.  

This will need to be charged to me he said and quoted a figure, which if I remember correctly, was more than adequate to replace the sink with one made of platinum. An understanding of depreciation (the building was at least 25 and the sink 220 year sold) was not his strong point.

I whined, ‘Why so much?’

‘The entire sink needs to be replaced’ stated the MG smugly, jolting me with this hidden cost.

It became clear to me that many previous military housing occupants had been victims of the same hidden costs. The vindictive streak in me caused me to borrow Pakistan’s policy- if I was to sink into debt, I might as well take the sink with me.

I therefore took a hammer and broke the sink completely. Boy! Was it satisfying to see the smug look on the MGs face being replaced with horror! He was not happy with the loss caused to the military housing exchequer. Word of course spread in their circles that they had found someone who was their match and I was declared persona non grata.

On my part, I drew the correct lessons from that episode for subsequent battles with them. I started sprinting straight to the bathroom ahead of the MG, to give him this time, a good look at the seat of MY pants. This inspection of the sink from below served me in good stead, because dear readers, that is where cracks hide themselves! (Free tip – inspect the commodes too. They are another trusted source for generating funds for the military housing exchequer.)

House taken over, subsequent maintenance issues are to be addressed by the same MG. Theoretically. I say theoretically because one can lodge a complaint – but the complaint is about as effective as, (I remember reading somewhere) a one legged man in a butt kicking contest.

The complaint results in:-

The MG finding solace in the saying ‘silence is golden’.

You on the other, ending up philosophizing that desire is the root cause of unhappiness.

If one needs to corner them therefore, one needs the ruthlessness of a Mrs SP. She had lodged a complaint and after a frustrating delay of about a fortnight, one of the MG fetched up at her house for ‘inspection’.

She showed him the issue, and then with some nifty footwork that would have put Usain Bolt to shame, she ran to the main door, stepped out and locked the door from the outside. Thus, surprising the surprised surpriser.

She informed the nonplussed MG (through the key hole) that the door would only be opened once the work is completed. Having thus secured their reluctant but undivided attention, she peeled off for a movie. She came back three hours later to find one rather miffed MG, but the work had been completed!

I have been given to understand that this episode became a case study for the MG. They have since amended their SOPs and now operate strictly in a buddy system. One does the work. The other’s job is to nullify surprising attempts by other wannabe Mrs SPs – by keeping one foot jammed in the doorway.

Ok, back to me. I had once lodged a complaint about some door stoppers (those small rubber tipped metal pieces that one attaches at the bottom of a door to stop it from slamming) not working. The MG duly reached my house after a short wait of six months and got the work done in about two hours. Self and The Wife were pleased.

It was only in the evening that we noticed one minor flaw – none of the new door stoppers worked, because they were all fitted too low on the door for them to be effective.

Second complaint, and a second long wait. The Wife had to step out for some chores the day they came and she therefore asked the maid servant to supervise. She came back after three hours and much to her joy, a cursory glance told her that the MG had finished the work.

Till she did a second take, and then a third. For the MG, instead of adjusting the height of the stoppers, had by way of some brilliant ‘lateral’ thinking, gouged the tiled floor to create an indentation so that the stoppers would work. To summarise:-

Total doors needing stoppers  – 9

Total door stoppers replaced – 9

Tiles that faced collateral damage – 9

Satisfaction level on a scale from 1-10 – Minus 7

I could go on, but at the end of the day, the military housing MG are an essential part of fauji lives. They inculcate in us all the qualities that the Navy values deeply – resilience, self control and perseverance – by ensuring that seeping walls continue to seep, installing cupboards that never close, windows that never open and roofs that disappear (Yes! Details here).  And when you can make peace with a leaking tap, what more can life throw at you?

PS – And yet, now that I am retired, I can’t help but look back at all the MG with some degree of love. Dealing with them was far easier than running after plumbers, masons and electricians when things go wrong in our own house now. I’m sure all retired faujis will agree.

If the above made you smile, please forward it to two friends who take life too seriously.