A doctor’s journey from El Alamein to Juhu

Dr Anthony deSouza started Juhu’s first ration shop, and surfed its waves, all this after fighting in World War II

There are very few people alive today who remember a young doctor making house calls at night on a bicycle, with two volunteers lighting the way with kerosene lamps, hoping to ward off the jackals.

The year was 1945, the place was a village called Juhu, and the doctor was Captain Anthony deSouza.

If there was one man who could fill the unforgiving minute with 60 seconds' worth of distance run, it was Tony deSouza. And when he passed away on Valentine's evening at the age of 94, it wasn't just his wife Dr Marie and his children who grieved, but the entire Juhu community.

“In those days, we stayed in a hut with a mud floor. Most of Juhu was marshland. There was no electricity, no running water; we lived with cobras, jackals and Russel's vipers,” says his wife, Dr Marie. He was responsible for setting up Juhu's first ration shop and instrumental in the creation of St Joseph's Church.

The area of her eyes not covered by sunglasses is damp, but she's smiling. She has 62 years of memories, her recollections span across the decades in a matter of minutes. “Even when he was bedridden, he never lost his sense of humour….”

In every way, Tony deSouza led a remarkable life. For four years, he served with the First Rajput Regiment of the British Indian army in North Africa. He was part of the battle of El Alamein, where the Germans, under Erwin Rommel, were defeated. Under British Field Marshal Montgomery he fought in Sicily; his final posting, before returning to Mumbai, was in Burma where he fought against the Japanese.

“He even got the time to scale Mount Etna,” recalls Marie. 'Give us a war story, doc' was a common refrain among his patients. His escape from the Japanese has become the stuff legends are made of. They dug tunnels under the hills where soldiers were being evacuated; many fell to snipers. The doctors on duty were the last to leave. The doctor before him was shot, but somehow, Tony managed to escape unscathed.

On his return home in 1945, he married, shifted to Juhu and started practising. “Every day was an adventure,” says his daughter Charmaine. “I remember the day when a plane from the Juhu Flying Club crashed into the road near our house. The pilot's scalp had peeled from his eyebrows to the top of his head. I watched in fascination as dad treated him and patched up the scalp using butterfly tape.”

Dedication to his patients and the community did not stop the doctor from enjoying life. When he was not tending his garden, the doctor was surfing on Juhu Beach. On the weekends, if they were not dancing at the Catholic Gym on Marine Lines, or at the erstwhile Bristol Grill in Juhu, the couple would go picnicking.

“He always carried his rifle with him,” says Marie. “He used it to shoot Buglers flying overhead. We would then cook the birds and eat them. He also used the gun to keep wild animals at bay.”

To many, the doctor was an embodiment of success and duty. But there was one time, he fell short. During the Second World War, he was asked to address the regiment in Hindi. Story has it that he studied three books prior to his speech.

After addressing the troops, he turned to the adjacent officer and asked him what he thought of his speech. “It was very good, Sir. But no one understood it.”

Dr Anthony deSouza (1914-2008) is survived by his wife Marie, and three children
t_anjali@dnaindia.net