Thunderbolts

The Thunderbolts - Ben Brar in the middle and VP last on the right

I woke up the next morning in agony though Jules seemed none the worse for wear. I could only hobble around painfully and my ankle felt as if had been through a meat grinder.

What upset me more was that the  aerobatic team of the Indian air force known as The Thunderbolts,   were putting up a much anticipated show in Gorakhpur that morning, which I would now perforce have to miss. We had really been looking forward to this event and I felt extremely disappointed that I could not be a witness to the spectacular display.

There was a party being hosted for the team the same evening and I stubbornly decided that I must attend so I would get to meet the dare devils if nothing else. I huffed and puffed until the parents agreed to let Jules and me go with Surjit Singh Majithia, who was the guest of honor at the celebration. He solemnly swore to keep an eye on us and reassured father that he would ensure I sat quietly in a corner to rest my mangled limb.

I had to cut open the bottom seam of my trouser in order to slip my leg through, since the bandage was thick and my foot very swollen. It was in this fragile condition that I limped into the party on Uncle Surjit's arm to meet the thirteen glamorous pilots led by Wing Commander PS (Ben) Brar.

Even though there was a lot of pain I thoroughly enjoyed the evening since I immediately became the centre of attention. All were impressed that I had made the effort to come, in spite of having stitches from my ankle to  my knee ( I never bothered to correct the exaggerated size of my injury!)

Drinks were followed by a  sit down dinner where the squadron silver was on display on each formally laid table. We had the youngest and handsomest member of the Thunderbolts, Flight Lieutenant VP Singh, sitting across from us and during the course of the meal, with a naughty twinkle in his eye, he twisted the propeller off a model aircraft between us and told us to keep it as a souvenir of the evening. Jules and I were naturally very excited and thrilled but when we got home and proudly told father what we had been gifted, he was furious and disapproving and not at all impressed by such an irresponsible gesture. 

Sud was not at this event as the whole squadron had flown out early that morning on a detachment, so he had no idea that we had been involved in an accident or would be at the party. A couple of weeks later when he returned, he called on us and was grimly handed over the offending memento to be returned to the squadron collection. How and with what explanation he did this I never did ask.