My Third Attempt to Wear the Olive Green

By John Aguiar

It was my third attempt to enter the olive green uniform through the Territorial Army. By then, I knew that the journey to the armed forces was not merely about clearing examinations. It was a test of one's personality, confidence, leadership, teamwork and, above all, one's ability to remain composed under pressure.

I had first cleared the written examination and subsequently appeared for an interview before a senior officer of the rank of Major General, along with a psychologist. I qualified the Preliminary Interview Board (PIB) and was recommended to 34 SSB, Allahabad, for further assessment.

I still remember my journey to Allahabad.

I travelled by train and reached early in the morning. At the appointed time, an Army bus arrived to pick us up and took us to the Selection Centre. Once there, we were asked to produce our documents and certificates and complete the Personal Information Questionnaire (PIQ) form. We were then allotted our chest numbers and given accommodation in the barracks.

The real test was about to begin.

The First Test

The following morning, we reported early to the testing hall. We were required to write a series of psychological tests and questionnaires, including BST-1 and BST-2.

Then came the picture test.

We were shown a picture and asked to observe it carefully, identify the actions of the person or persons shown—whether positive or negative—and then write a story based on the picture.

While we were still writing our stories, our papers were suddenly collected. We were then divided into groups for a discussion.

The Group Testing Officer (GTO) asked us to discuss the picture.

What followed was complete confusion.

Everyone began speaking at the same time. There was no order, no discipline and hardly any opportunity for anyone to listen to another person's point of view. I was not quite sure what was happening.

Suddenly, almost instinctively, I stood up and shouted:

"This is not the way. Have some discipline. Let one person speak at a time!"

There was pin-drop silence.

I could hear the GTO asking me whether I wanted to complete the story.

I replied, "Yes."

I completed my story.

After the group discussion, some of my fellow candidates came up to congratulate me. I simply told them:

"Let's see."

I did not want to celebrate too early. The SSB process had taught us that every stage mattered.

From 150 to 30

There were around 150 candidates in our batch.

The instructors subsequently divided us into two groups. One group was asked to leave and return to their respective destinations.

Only around 30 of us remained for further assessment.

We were given new chest numbers.

For those of us who stayed back, the atmosphere changed. We were provided better facilities in the barracks and continued with the remaining stages of the selection process.

For the next four days, we underwent various assessments and interviews. Despite the seriousness of the occasion, those four days also gave us an opportunity to interact with one another. We shared meals, conversations, experiences and dreams.

We had all come with the same aspiration—to wear the olive green.

Finally came the President's Interview and the Conference.

By then, we had spent several days being tested, observed and assessed from different angles. We had given everything we could.

Then came the final decision.

Only One

Of the 30 candidates who had remained, only one was recommended.

The remaining 29 candidates, including me, were conference out.

Just like that, the dream came to an end.

There was no argument, no explanation and no bitterness. That is the nature of selection. The Services Selection Board has its own system of assessing candidates, and one has to accept the outcome.

But acceptance does not mean that disappointment does not hurt.

I boarded the train back from Allahabad with a very heavy heart.

I had travelled there carrying the hope of earning the right to wear the olive green. I was returning without that recommendation.

Yet, somewhere within me, I also knew that the experience had changed me.

The SSB was not merely a selection process. It was an education in leadership, discipline, teamwork, self-confidence and handling pressure. It taught me that sometimes you can give your best and still not be selected.

And sometimes, life has another uniform waiting for you.

I did not wear the olive green through the Territorial Army.

But the dream of serving the nation never really left me.

The journey from Allahabad stayed with me—not as a story of failure, but as a story of an attempt, a dream, a lesson and a chapter of my life that I will always remember.

The recommendation may not have come, but the spirit of service continued.