iv.                Howrah to Burdwan via Fatwa

This was a trip my aunt Annie Reeves and her daughter, Gladys, took the year in the early 40's, when floods took out bridges near Burdwan on the Howrah line. This is the same aunt who told me our family lore. At that time both aunt and daughter were working in Calcutta as censors for the British army. Both wore khaki uniforms and had Greek lettering on their shoulder flashes, not understood by anyone not knowing Greek, and therefore in keeping with the secrecy of censorship.

My aunt's husband, Harold Reeves, was at the time stationed in military quarters in Burdwan.  Aunt and her daughter went to see him regularly - it was scarcely a two-hour journey on the train - until the floods came. Now the only train service to Burdwan from Howrah was through Fatwa, which was a junction for the broad gauge from Howrah and the narrow gauge to Burdwan.

Aunt's troubles started at Fatwa, actually before if you count the mounting frustration at the hours of delay beyond the direct journey she usually took. But the real trouble began when Aunt's carriage was crowded with a horde of passengers, none of whom appeared to have a ticket. Aunt demanded a ticket collector, and when he came she demanded that he ask for a show of tickets. He gently declined, having no doubt sound reasons of his own. This infuriated Aunt. Her daughter remained throughout only a spectator to the tamasha (show). Aunt tried to intimidate the ticket collector. She pointed to the Greek letters on her shoulder and bluffed they signified the Secret Military Police, an influential arm of the C.I.D. (Criminal Investigation Department) and for whom the ticketless passengers and the ticket collector did not seem to give a damn. Aunt then told all who would listen that her husband was a high ranking military officer, whom she was about to meet, and he would have the railway's hide unless the compartment was cleared "ak dum" (at once). Nothing worked. Her final threat was that if the train started with the crowd still in the compartment, she would pull the Alarm Chain and stop the train. She was as good as her word. She pulled the chain with a will and a yard of chain landed beside her. More pulls, more chain. But the train went on.

Indian disregard for laws in the face of public pressure was too much for Anglo-Indian/British bluff. Retrospectively Aunt Annie appreciated the humour of the incident. When she told me the story soon after her week-end in Burdwan, she dramatized the action of the narrative and had a good laugh at herself. Aunt knew how to tell a story.