by Gordon Gray
On an early trip, Chris and I arrived in Mumbai from Delhi on the day the monsoon rains arrived too. What a scene. Roads that have been dry and dusty for months were now either lakes or skid pans. Trucks and cars with totally bald tyres carried on driving just as they would have in the dry, with no thought about tyre grip in the wet. Water ran and was splashed everywhere. Accidents abounded, motor rickshaws broke down in the middle of lakes leaving the passengers stranded on small metal islands. We watched from our taxi as markets became floating markets and shoppers were drenched. Umbrellas sprouted everywhere and we just hoped that the taxi did not break down. I asked our local companion how long before it stops raining and he replied, “Oh, about three months.”
The following year we had a meeting arranged at a defence factory in Chennai, the new name for Madras, and it did not stop raining once during the whole three days we were there. We had to find our way out of town to the factory complex and the only access road was a pothole-riddled track, covered in brown water that was about 2 feet deep in places. The taxi driver was not too keen to carry on, but eventually, with some financial inducement, he did and we made it. The meetings were accompanied by the constant hiss and rattle of the rain as it hit the iron roof and an overall feeling of being permanently damp. After three days of solid, depressing rain, we were very glad to get the flight out of town and escape the monsoon.
We were also helped no end by a retired Indian Army colonel called Gobi who worked for a British Government defence trade organisation in Delhi and who himself had excellent contacts in the army. He also assisted in organising visits to the UK for some of the key generals and their staff to visit our facilities and have demonstrations and presentations in the UK. Until, that is, my wonderful line managers, Jeff and Guy, decided to terminate the agreement “because it might be seen as illegal by the Indian Government!” even though it was a fully legal relationship approved and supported by both corporate, the UK MOD and the Indian MOD. Bosses!
The Indian Defence industry were trying to develop their own BMS system for the army and even had an early prototype on trial. It was clear that potential for a joint development existed. Gradually, we made progress. We spoke to the Indian MOD Requirement Board, who were persuaded by the army that a requirement for the system should be issued. Draft agreements with Indian industry for a joint development project were drawn up. Our marketing director met the CEOs of the largest defence suppliers and we hosted a visit to the UK by the most senior man in the Indian Army, The Chief of the Army Staff, for a demonstration of the UK system. This was followed by a formal visit to the BAE stand by the Chief of the Army Staff at a major defence show in Bangalore where we introduced him to the BAE Corporate Marketing Director and senior UK MOD VIPs.
However, one day, my line manager – “the lovely Mr Jeff” – told me that his boss, the export sales manager, wanted to see me. He said simply, “We don’t think we want to carry on with BMS to India. I want you to stop work on it.” I was speechless. He did not specify who ‘we’ were but said ‘it was a question of resources’. I knew that the managing director was not keen on India as a target market following a couple of debacles there in another division and I suspected he was behind this shutdown. To have got so far with essentially just two of us working the whole of the Indian Army and now, when there was an official requirement for the system in Indian MOD, the company decides to turn it off, was, for me, unbelievable. Interestingly, Mr Guy left us a month or so later to join a competitor company, so it was clear how committed he had been while busy finding a new job.
The People
Either I have been very fortunate over the last twenty odd years or most Indians are really very nice people. I can honestly say that in that time, I have never met or worked with an Indian person who I did not genuinely like. Over the years, I became good friends with many of them and would look forward to visiting them. This applied to both the guys I worked with on the company side and the naval and army officers I worked with on the customer side. Senior officers in the Indian Armed Forces are all very well educated and thoroughly well trained men, career officers, who all know their subjects. They all spoke better English than I did and were usually all very charming.
They also have a fine sense of humour. A group of naval officers were visiting one of our UK factories accompanied by the London-based Indian Naval Advisor, Commodore Nair, a lovely guy who I knew quite well and who everyone in the Indian Navy called ‘Pinky’. as his initials were PK. As he got out of the car, I started to introduce him to our managing director who was standing beside me. Before I could say anything, Pinky said to the world at large. “Gordon! How brave you are to wear your baby pink shirt today,” in a tone that suggested I had done it as a bet. He also had a wicked grin on his face as everyone else stopped and turned to look at my shirt. The Indians take their staff work very seriously and are no fools, so any discussions with them will always go to the heart of the issue.
In India, the armed forces are highly respected by the people they recruit and it is only the best officers who reach senior and staff positions. The Indian Navy had genuine requirements for our systems and held the Royal Navy and the British Defence Industry in high regard. Once we had established a dialogue with them and achieved that vital first meeting, I was never refused a request for a meeting or discussion. In fact, it once almost backfired on me.
Courtesy Call
We had had a visit to the UK by the senior technical officer in the Indian Navy, a vice admiral, and his team of officers. He was a charming gentleman who had done some of his naval training in the UK and enjoyed his trip taking time out to revisit one or two old haunts. He was happy with what we had shown him and was comfortable with the RN ways of doing things. The visit had included some of our factories as well as visits to a shipyard and RN ships where our systems were in service. At the end of the trip, as I saw him off at Heathrow airport, he said, “Gordon, whenever you are in Delhi, please do let me know.” I thanked him and thought no more about it.
A few weeks later when I was next in Delhi I told a local colleague of the invitation, which I had taken to be no more than a courtesy gesture. “No, you should try and see him; certainly ring his office and let him know you are here.” I remembered Ernie’s teachings from many years before in London, so I did. I spoke to his secretary and said, “Please can you just let the admiral know I am in Delhi and if there is anything he wants to discuss, then I will be available.” The next day, our Delhi office took a call from the admiral’s office. “The admiral will see Mr Gray tomorrow at 1030. Please fax personal details for security clearance.” I hastily rearranged the next morning’s meetings and prepared to call on the admiral.
As I arrived in his outer office, one of his staff commanders was sitting there. “Hello Commander, what are you doing here?” I asked. “Well, I am here for our meeting,” he replied with a puzzled tone. Then, two more commanders who I knew came in. After ten minutes, there were at least six or seven technical staff officers – three of whom had been on the trip to the UK with the admiral – and me, all standing crammed in the tiny outer office. By now, I was more than a little concerned and alarm bells were ringing in my head. What had the admiral told these guys about this meeting? What did they think I was here for? I thought that it would be just the admiral and I chatting about the outcome of the UK visit and the progress of various naval projects in India. But why would he need his full technical staff for that? Also, I was very aware that I had no presentational material or technical data with me either.
Five minutes later, the admiral’s secretary came out of the admiral’s office carrying an armful of files. He looked directly at me. “The admiral will see you now, Mr Gray.” The other officers stood back and pushed me forward towards the door. “After you.” “No, after you.” “No, no, I insist after you!” I soon found myself pushed to the head of the group.
As I entered his large office, the admiral got up from his desk and came round to greet me. W
e shook hands and he said loudly, so all of those filing in behind me could hear, “So what are you going to present to us today, Gordon?” The others had all followed me in and were interested to hear the answer.
“Well, actually admiral, I had not planned to present anything new to you today as I really just wanted to make sure that you were happy with your recent trip to the UK and wondered if you had any questions or needed any more information. Of course, I am happy to discuss anything with you and your colleagues.”
The admiral frowned slightly, “Oh, I see. Well, never mind, we can do that, but where is your technical team?”
“I am afraid that it’s just me today, sir. I don’t have any of the team with me on this trip as I am just passing through Delhi on my way to Bangalore to discuss a joint venture with a software company there.”
The admiral smiled, “All alone, eh? Well, I am sure that my boys here have plenty of questions, please sit down.”
“I will do my best, sir.” I smiled hard as I could see the funny side of my predicament and I hoped that the admiral could too. Inside, I was screaming! Oh Lord, what have I got myself into here. Here I was unsupported by any engineers and about to be quizzed by the senior technical officer in the Indian Navy and his ‘A’ team technical staff about the deeper electronic workings of radars and command systems.
We all sat down at a big conference table in his office and the conversation moved along in a polite and friendly way until we were actually having a fairly strong discussion on the functions and capabilities of modern radars and C4I systems and the Indian Navy’s requirements. I tried to keep the discussion away from software codes, volts and amps, and keep it to user aspects, functions and benefits. Luckily, most of the officers had already attended earlier technical presentations by our engineers or had been on the UK trip so they knew I was just a marketing guy and not an electronics engineer, and were gentle with me. The admiral was charming and allowed his staff to probe and question but protected me by always drawing them back from any deep technical issues with comments like. “Mr Gray is not a software designer. That is not his field, but I am sure he will take note of the question.”
My twenty-minute courtesy call and a coffee with the admiral turned into a one and a half hour discussion with the whole team. I left Naval HQ totally drained but also feeling somewhat elated as I did not think I had made a total fool of myself. I don’t think I lost too many points for a non technical marketer, but it was a bit stressful for a while in such educated and capable company. In hindsight, though, I am sure it helped as I now knew them all a little better and they had a lot of their user questions answered.
Earlier in my time in India, I had been asked to give a presentation to this particular admiral and his staff. The presentation was given in a large boardroom in naval HQ. It was midsummer and the room was hot in spite of a series of old and very noisy wall-mounted air-conditioning units. I therefore had to project my voice to the other end of the boardroom to where the admiral was sitting, over the top of the noise of these air-con units. By the end of the forty-minute presentation, I could feel my throat screaming at me to shut up, but I still had a bit to go. Then, as I began to sum up, I realised that nothing was coming out of my mouth. I had totally lost my voice. One of the Indians, seeing that I was drying up fast, passed me a bottle of water from a sideboard. The golden rule with water is: ‘If the top is still sealed, then it is probably OK. If it is not, then do not touch it.’ I started to unscrew the top from the bottle but it just lifted straight off taking the sealing ring as well. Aaargh! No way could I touch it. After a few embarrassed moments, I managed to get a squeak to come out, enough to gesture to my technical colleague that it was time for him to take over.
Lifts
I arrived for a meeting with a company whose offices were on the fifth floor of a tall office block in Delhi. I went to join the crowds waiting for the lift to take me up to the fifth floor. The lift lobby was open to the outside and the area was dark, hot and sticky. The lift was a long time in arriving and the local office workers were getting restless. As it was hot and humid, they were reluctant to walk up the stairs. Then one of them walked over to the wall where a small metal junction box was labelled ‘Fireman’s Switch’. The cover was swinging loosely, held only by one screw. It had a small flicker switch on one side. He casually opened the box and a mass of tangled wires fell out. He then happily started to waggle them about and pushed them back into the box. He then flicked the switch itself on and off a few times while watching the lift indicator arrows. Everyone else stood and just watched, including me, as this guy handled the cables with a ‘live’ lift with people in it on the other end without any idea of what he was doing. The lift eventually arrived and the doors slowly opened. We all got in. The doors closed again and it moved upwards, but very slowly, and ground its way up to the second floor. It stopped, but about 2 feet short of the floor. The Indians in the lift had had enough and they prised the doors open against the forces trying to keep them shut. Those wanting the second floor scrambled up and out through the gap on hands and knees. I looked at those of us that were left and decided that getting out was a good idea and followed the others. Once out, the Indians left the lift to its own end and carried on into their offices as if this was a normal event. Whether anyone reported the lift fault or indeed if anything was ever done about it is a whole different matter. I walked up the remaining flights and although hotter and sweatier than I wanted to be, at least I was there.
Company takeovers and joint ventures
While I was spending a lot of time in India, I was working for BAE Systems, but we were not helped in the export market by changes going on within the company. Before BAE had bought Marconi, Marconi had set up a joint venture with an Italian company called Alenia and the joint venture was called Alenia Marconi Systems or ‘AMS’. The old Alenia Company had been very active in India. After BAE bought Marconi, the naval radar and command systems divisions of BAE were joined up with this AMS joint venture, which also made similar systems. We were then relocated to the AMS UK offices in Surrey and found that our new bosses were now all Marconi people and our managing director and directors were all Italians based in Rome. Our business cards said we were AMS but our work contracts were still with BAE. We then had to explain all this to the bemused Indian customers. “Yes, we are still part of BAE, but we work within a part of the old Marconi and Alenia joint venture called AMS.” “So you are now an Italian company with an Italian boss, yes?” “No, well, yes, sort of, but we do now work closely with the Italians.” It was all very messy. This tie up meant that on many occasions we had to give joint presentations with the Italians to try and explain the logic and benefits of the tie up, even though they were selling similar and ‘competing’ systems to ours. Parochial and national loyalties and interests meant that each half was trying to sell its own product irrespective of which system was the ‘best system to meet the customer’s requirement’. All the while we heard our corporate master’s cries telling us all to “Ensure that we only offered the appropriate system to meet the customer’s requirement – but be sure it is ours!” It caused a lot of market confusion and internal friction and frustrations. Then, after a couple of years, BAE Systems thankfully decided to split from the Italians as the joint venture was clearly not working and they reabsorbed some of the old BAE parts of AMS back into BAE Systems. We were glad to become part BAE Systems again and the Italian half of AMS went off on its own. Now, of course, a company which had been telling the market it was a close sister to the Italians had to tell them that they were a direct competitor. It was all a bit confusing. If we were confused, then one can imagine how the customers felt. “Would you buy a naval radar system from this lot? I don’t think so.” Things that perhaps make perfect financial sense in the boardroom can be an absolute nonsense in the market place.
New Bosses
Once we were back in the BAE Systems fold, we had a new set of senior managers and directors drafted in. My
first BAE boss, Andrew Humphries, had had a lot of overseas sales experience. At the time, I was struggling to get our divisional directors enthused about India. He began our first conversation by saying “I have spoken to the corporate marketing guys covering India and they think India is worth pursuing. They are obviously well aware of what you have been doing there and they seem happy with that so you have my full support to carry on.” That made life a lot better. Andrew was a great boss. He wanted to know what we were going to do, offered guidance and help with strategies, then let us go and get on with it with little interference. He came out to India with me and met all the players and showed interest and corporate commitment to the region. When we wanted senior management support to get a point across at a board meeting, he was always there and supported us.
However, unfortunately for us, after only a few months, Andrew was promoted to an overseas director’s job and we had more new bosses brought in. This included not only a new marketing director, but an export sales executive and a deputy to the export sales executive – though it was never totally clear what his role was. None of them, from what we could see, had very much, if any, overseas sales experience and they came with a “risk averse” approach to everything from expenses and overseas travel to signing MOUs and agreements with overseas industry and other companies. This made marketing in India even more difficult as it already had its own local challenges and difficulties. I believed in getting on with the job, setting up the right arrangements to move forward and doing all the right things while staying firmly within both Indian and BAE Systems laws and rules, but I think I was probably still seen as a little bit too ‘cavalier’ for their liking.
The approach we had taken so far in India, with the blessing of HO corporate marketing, had got our division well known in the Indian defence markets and created a lot of interest in our capabilities. We were now being approached directly by government-owned and private defence companies, as well as departments of the MOD and we were included on many new tender lists as a compliant and capable overseas supplier. We were recognised and respected. We had good relations with many of the senior staff in the Indian MOD, the armed forces and the senior directors of the major Indian defence manufacturers, both public and privately owned. In spite of the new management and its approach, we had, over the years, managed to put agreements in place to take a number of projects forward with Indian industry and it was only a question of commitment, time and effort before we enjoyed success. All we needed was an order. However, in spite of a strong ‘Pro India Lobby’ in corporate marketing at head office, the directors of our division of BAE were not committed to India. They had not been there and did not understand it, or if they had been there, did not like it and could not be bothered to put any effort into making it work. Fiascos like the earlier cost-sheet sign-offs for a final quotation were not isolated incidents and certainly did not help us. They did not want to wait for projects and relationships to come to fruition and did not want to make the investments needed. They wanted fast rewards without the long-lead times and the effort on the ground that is so vital in the export market.