Pride

Almost, every household in our village, has at least one member serving in the Indian Army. This has become a tradition, and it all started around 1950’s when one of our village young man, joined the army. He became a Major, and returned with his brave travels and experiences. He sewed seeds in our young minds, about the pride and contentment in serving the country. Till date, we could see young men training in the grounds for hours, and young girls, in the village prefer military men as their mate. There are more ex-service men, than the number of farmers in our village, and the ex­-servicemen of the village, do not like, being called their own name, unless preceded by their rank at retirement.

Born in such a village, it was no miracle, that the thought to serve got engraved in my mind. I was training vigorously to stay fit and be eligible to get into service. At last! my hard work paid off, and I got recruited in local military recruitment drive. I started at the lowest rank, and underwent training for almost a year. The training included long hikes, regular running, truck driving and had to camp in very remote areas, with less basic amenities. Years passed by, and I was progressing through the ranks. In the meanwhile, when I went home for holidays, I got married to a beautiful girl and life was good except, for my disappointment that still, I was not allowed for gun training. My expected days ended, when I was selected for the group to guard Indo-China border. I was given training for different guns, and was advised to look out for local militants, who looted and plundered the border villages.

Days passed by, on training and taking shift turns at guarding the border. No attacks were made by the local militants after our camp, and we were happy about that. One day, I received a call from family, saying that my wife was expecting a baby. I was on cloud nine hearing this, and all my fellow comrades congratulated me. The thought of seeing my baby, helped me pass those dry days.

It was one of those mundane days, after turning my shift to another soldier, I went to the camp to take rest for a while. Within minutes, we got information that there was blast in the nearby village. So, to take action a group of 30 people were assigned including me. On reaching there we understood that local militants were dormant since they were increasing their force and arms. We were heavily outnumbered, and were not a match to their latest weapons. So, our leader decided to call off the mission, and he got order for us to flee to main camp at Ladakh, as our camp was also attacked. 13 people survived that attack including me, and was marching through the deadly freezing Himalayas, to reach the main camp.

Among those 13 people few were injured, and they could not make through the snow. We were left with the sad decision, to leave them behind as they were dragging others, and it was very painful day in my life. After travelling 3 days without a break, and surviving only on tea, we knew we couldn’t make it to the main camp. No one had the strength or hope to progress, and some froze to death. I became unconscious, and the next thing I know, is that we were saved by a local tribal and got us to a hospital at the main camp. 7 of us made it through including me, and I got my left leg amputated, due to extreme cold weather. I was very grateful that I was alive, and prayed for peace, for fellow comrades who died in the attack.

I returned home after recovery, and I had to console my family for my tragedy. I got a boy, and he has also joined the army. Whenever, I get a chance to tell my story to the local folks here, the pride I get cannot be expressed in words. My son, being in the army after all this, adds up to it and I admire his bravery and valor.

Today, I am maintaining a small farm, to meet my ends; after receiving half of my relief fund, while most of the money was ripped off by the local politicians. Every month end to wait, for the pension at the post office 10 miles away from village; sometimes questions the respect an army man has in this society. But until the last young men like my son, who are ready to give any cost for this country are there, Indian flag can fly high in the air.

Jai Hind!