'Memoirs and Recollections of An Officer of the Indian Political Service' [‎51r] (101/156)

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its introduction: "He (ie the Political Officer) should leave well alone: the best
work of a Political Officer is very often what he has left undone."
During the summer of 1945, I had to go into hospital - a military one on Poona full of
soldiers recovering from the arduous conditions of life in the unhealthy jungles of
Assam where at last headway was being made against the Japanese invaders. My trouble was
a recurrence of nasal polypi, for which I had been operated upon only a year earlier
in Bangalore. It was while I was there that word came through of the German surrender
in Western Europe. The jubilation at the ending of the war on the home front was
tempered by the knowledge that the formidable Japanese challenge still remained in the
field. The war had not in fact ended for India and the allied forces in the Eastern
Theatre. While on the subject of hospitals and health, it had previously been my
personal boast that, despite the sixteen years or so of my service to date in India,
I had so far survived being laid low by malaria. I had spoken too soon, for in 1945
while in Rajkot, I suffered a most virulent and severe attack which brought home to me
how lucky I had been to remain immune for so long. I had never before felt so ill; but,
although quinine was in short supply during the war and anti-malarial drugs were only
in their infancy, I suffered no ill effects and had only.one subsequent and much milder
attack a year later. I count myself and my family fortunate/, apart from David's
dangerous attack of dysentery in Secunderabad in 1941, the health of all of us remained
generally good, right up to the time when we finally left India in 1948. This immunity
from disease and serious sickness is something that few young British ex-patriate
families could lay-claim to during the war years when there was no home leave for any
of us. Although I served out the final eighteen years of the British connection
with India, it is relevant to point out that in none of the bungalows or houses in
which we lived was there any cooling device to temper the heat of the summer, other
than the electric fan; air conditioning was unknown to those of us in Government employ.
Another fact which springs to mind is that at no time did we live in any habitation
which was provided with water borne sanitation. The days of the 'thunder-box' and the
sweeper and the tin bath tub filled with hot water - boiled in the garden in four-gallon
tins - survived right up to the end.
I have embarked on these digressions since, when I was serving in Kathiawar, I had
entered on the last three years of the rule of the British in India. In July 1945,
my family and I left Rajkot where we had been so happy and most comfortably housed,
and where we had made many Indian friends, to take up residence in Baroda, with which,
as I have said earlier, the Kathiawar Residency An office of the East India Company and, later, of the British Raj, established in the provinces and regions considered part of, or under the influence of, British India. had been amalgamated.
Baroda was one of the largest and most important of the Indian States. Its Ruler, His
Highness Gaekwar, enjoyed a salute of 21 guns, which put him on an equality with