The Password

        Passwords have been around us since ancient times. We have all heard of Alibaba (of Arabian Nights fame) using the password ’Open Sesame’ to gain entry into the secret den, where the forty thieves stacked their stolen riches.  Since ages in the military, sentries have been challenging persons trying to enter prohibited areas to give the correct password before allowing them to proceed. Since recent years, we need a password for almost everything, whether it is to gain access to your mobile phone, satellite TV, e-mail or Facebook; to draw cash from your ATM account or for e-banking and even to read the morning newspaper on-line. In addition to the passwords, we senior citizens with our failing memories have to grapple with several ten-digit PINs(Personal Identification Numbers) to make various electronic transactions.

My first brush with password took place ages ago during my college days in the NCC Training Camp held at Sambra, near Belgaum. Once every week, we were assigned guard duty at the Camp Armoury, comprising several old .303 rifles, LMGs, TSMG’s and some hand-grenades.  There were eight of us in our platoon, who were deputed for guard duty that night. Each one of us was given a 303 rifle loaded with live bullets – or, at least, we were told so. We were expected to take turns standing there at the gate as a sentry for a two hour stint at night. If any intruder turned up, we were supposed to challenge him and let him to pass, if and only if, he gave the correct password; else, we must call out the others from inside the guard house, who would then come out running on the double to take positions all around the armory, with their rifles all ‘cocked’ and ready to shoot on orders.  We were told that at the end of the camp a trophy would be awarded to the Best Platoon on Guard Duty. So, we were expecting to see some real, tough competition from other participating colleges by way of surprise checks by their officers and ‘attacks’ by ‘enemy’ cadets or some sort of mischief during the night.

I got my turn at Sentry Duty a little past midnight. An hour or so after I had taken charge, the eerie silence of the night was broken suddenly by a distinct, rustling sound of leaves in the distance. Soon, as the sound increased steadily, I could see the headlights of a small, Fiat car heading in my direction. The car stopped some distance from the armoury in the shadows of a tree where the light from the street lamps could hardly reach it. I heard the car doors open and shut with a bang and then even in the dim moonlight, I could clearly make out the faint figure of a tall, hefty man as he stepped out of the car. “HALT!” I cried out with my hands trembling on the rifle. “Halt, who goes there? Friend or Foe.”  The man stopped in his track, but, did not reply. After a while, I repeated the question still getting no answer. I was slowly beginning to swelter in my uniform. I asked him again the same question for the third time and again got only a dead silence in response. There was not even a murmur of a reply from the obstinate man who was standing there frozen like a statue. “Say something, Man” I said at last in desperation “Look, dumb ass! We have orders to shoot if we don’t get a reply for more than three times. So, for Heaven’s sake, tell me if you are Friend or Foe.”

         At last, after some time, the man replied in a cool but subdued tone: “Foe!”  Now, even in my wildest dream, I had not expected that one for an answer! God, I could actually feel myself shivering in my pants!!  “What! Err….What did you say?” I asked, more to hide the sense of horror in my voice than to confirm. “Foe, I said.” said the man nonchalantly.

        God!  In case he had said “Friend” I would have known exactly how to proceed, because we had clear instructions that, in that case, we should ask the intruder to tell the password.  But, here was this guy telling me so blatantly that he was the ‘foe’ and I for one had no inkling of an idea as to what does one do in such a situation!  Well, there was nothing so suspicious about him either --- neither his  movements were stealthy nor did he carry any arms or weapons of any sort to lay claim to be the enemy!!  What on earth did he want? 

In my utter confusion and consternation, I blurted out: “Well, then, tell me the Password.”

“What password? Is the foe supposed to tell you the password?” replied the man, now sounding a bit indignant.

“Of course not! In any case, put your hands up and step forward --- and no dirty tricks, Mister.” I said pointing my rifle straight at him. I could somehow gather enough courage to speak that bit of dialogue from a war movie I had seen recently and I think it had the desired effect. For, instantly, he raised both his hands in an obedient manner and stepped out forward into the light where I could now clearly see his handsome features. He was a tall, well built man with a well trimmed, ‘handle-bar’ moustache.

“Do you know who I am, you stupid Nincompoop?” he bellowed haughtily.”I am Colonel Ukidway, your camp commandant! ”

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, Sir. I really didn’t mean to ---- Well, I couldn’t recognize you in ‘mufti’, Sir. But, NINCOMPOOP is very correct, Sir --- that means you know the password, Sir!  Until a moment ago, I didn’t even know what it means!!  Please proceed Sir. I can’t stop you now!” I said lowering my rifle. “But,Sir! Sir, please hold on one minute. Sir, let me give you a ‘present arms’ first.”  So saying, I sprang smartly into the ‘attention’ posture and moved my right forearm upward bringing the rifle to a vertical position right in front of me close to my body and then, raising my right foot up to the waist level, I brought it back sharply on the ground clicking the shoe instep against the left heel. I then brought my left arm swiftly across the body to grip the rifle near its butt end with my fingers extended and thumb resting on top of the forefinger. For all this drill, the colonel merely gave a nod of acknowledgement to my salute and I continued with my profuse apology:

“I’m so sorry, Sir. It’s so dark out there, I really couldn’t see you clearly, Sir. ..But, where have you been all day, Sir?  Our Sergeant Major has been looking for you, Sir. He was saying the Blighter may turn-up anytime to-day for a surprise check!  Err --- Well, that’s what he was saying, Sir”.  

Since then, thank God, I didn’t have to deal with another Password until the coming of the electronic age, several years later, with its P.C, ATM and the like.