Would you prefer to sleep...and leave a few buddies behind, or do you want to undergo sleepless nights ...but go back together?

     My unit was near Baramula when I took over command - they had been deployed there for about a year. The regiment was deployed in gun positions, a company operating base on the Line of Control(LC), convoy protection duties from Srinagar to Uri and road opening. The regiment HQ normally had the RHQ staff and troops rotating in and out of other duties or leave.

     I was very concerned about security and safety of the RHQ. This location had more clerks, cooks, washermen, barbers and drivers (not that they were less effective, but their nature of work did not allow me to deploy them on core operations roles frequently, because that would be at the cost of cooking, office work or haircuts!) In addition, a couple of porters used to work here - essentially locally hired working hands, who could potentially inform terrorists about the deployment and state of alertness. We were also part of the local garrison under the infantry brigade, and since I was the only CO in location(the infantry COs were deployed with their battalions on the LC - artillery works one up in relation to the infantry - the battery commander works with the infantry CO, the regiment commander works with the infantry brigade commander etc), I was commander of the garrison for local security.

     I knew that there had been attacks on garrisons in the recent past, and they would happen again. The enemy is always watching and keeping track of which garrison is lax and which one is active, and is likely to respond effectively(porters and locals are potential informants). I figured that prevention is better than cure, therefore deterring potential terrorist attacks on my garrison was the best bet. The strategy I chose to follow was - make a lot of noise, use technology and train my unit.

     Every unit is authorised a huge quantity of small arms( that is rifle, automatics etc) ammunition every year, even if they are in CI operations. Usually, this is not used up for training as everyone is busy with deployment on actual operations. Luckily for us, we had an improvised firing range on the hillside within our unit, which I activated - no approvals, clearances etc. We organized firing twice a week with whatever we had-  all ranks in HQ who could be spared were required to fire their weapons at the range. There were no elaborate arrangements - just the targets, a weapons technician from the Light Repair Workshop(LRW) that was part of my unit, and a collection of available troops on that day- sometimes as few as 20, and sometimes almost 50. We only worked out the number of rounds(bullets) to be fired every week to use up all the ammunition by the end of the year. I used to make it a point to fire my weapon whenever possible - something that I have always enjoyed!

     I also stipulated  a condition that the waiting details (people waiting in queue to fire, since only 8 could fire at a time) would not wait, but continuously do their weapons training exercises - no sitting around etc. The first week was a little difficult, since everyone takes it that this is another one of those projects that won't last long. I landed up the first day and had to dress down a couple of JCOs and officers to get it going. Soon, our unit (and the nearby units and villages) was reverberating to the sweet sound of small arms fire every week - sending the message that this unit trains continuously, and hard. The porters would be working nearby and they also carried this message home(and elsewhere).

    

     Usually, the security detail is worked out by JCOs and deployment of guards is done by them. Afterwards, they complain that there are too many guard posts, due to which troops are able to sleep only one in 4 nights etc. I did  a review and found that a few of the guard posts were simply facing a neighboring units guard post a few metres away. Cameras and sensors had been around for some time, so I authorised my second in command to buy and deploy thermal cameras and improvise trip sensors in low threat areas. Remember, this was an area where the temperatures could go down to -15 celsius in winter with mist, so we had to be careful about what we bought. we put a large portion of the Annual Contingency Grant(public funds allocated to every unit on an annual basis) to good use doing this. In the end, we reduced guards and sentries by 30%. However, I was conscious of the need to cover these areas with people, so we created two quick reaction teams(QRTs), who were expected to be at the scene in under 1 minute. I used to walk around and pull the trip sensor and wait to see how long the QRT took, including retakes whenever they wouldn't. and this would happen round the clock. While all this was happening, the porters were watching and telling others too...

     We also started sending out patrols to nearby villages to dominate them - staying in touch with what is happening around you is very critical for operational awareness. I also insisted on perimeter patrols during day and night - from outside the fence for the entire garrison. People have a tendency to stay within their comfort zone, in this case, within the fence. The need was to dominate the 'outside', talk to the herdsmen who seemed to always be loitering outside the fence and keep them at arms length. They had to get the message that we could get to them at any time of the day or night, and they could not sneak in close. (Now that I'm in business management, I carry this lesson with me - always stay in touch with your customers and know what the competition is about to do).

     An incident comes to my mind - one of the first patrols that went to a village got chatting with the headman about how it was almost time for Eid and how he(the JCO who pretended to be a devout muslim) would celebrate it. They were offered food by the villagers, and the JCO blurted out "but we have a fast for Santoshi maa today"! So much for getting close to locals!

     Once I was woken up in the middle of the night by my 2iC, saying that a guard post had seen movement, and had opened fire. I told him to get the regiment on 'stand to'(everyone occupies battle stations) and rushed to the post. It appeared that the soldier had seen someone in the shadows and fired. However, there was no one to be seen outside the fence. Sentries deploy in pairs (to keep fear at bay and also ensure adequate response in case of an incident). In this case, it was obvious that the second sentry had been sleeping (it was obvious from the small space that had been created within the post for the second sentry to sit, and sleep), and the person on guard had got scared and opened fire  -fear can make you see things where there is nothing. This was tricky - if the sentry was punished for opening fire when there was no threat, guards would think twice before opening fire  while on duty, even when there was a genuine threat. and if he was not punished, sentries could potentially become trigger happy. I decided to address the unit(town hall or 'sainik sammelan') to explain why I was not punishing the sentry, even though there was no intruder. It was important to communicate the thought process behind the (in)action, especially the importance of both sentries staying awake while on guard duty!

     One incident stands out on considered inaction. In 2012, a protest against the National Hydel Power Corp nearby spiraled out of control. People protesting against a power shortage gathered outside the NHPC premises, which was next door and just outside the garrison. I was responsible for the convoy, which was to pass this area at around 10 am, which we managed by deploying my troops and clearing  the way. My men also captured this on video. Around afternoon, the situation started going out of hand - the crowd grew restive. I ordered the garrison on 'stand to' but told them all to stay away from the crowd, since they were demonstrating against NHPC, its security was not my responsibility. I decided not to intervene in the protest, since my garrison was not affected directly - although I did get a couple of calls insinuating that I was not doing my job by not acting. I was clear that managing a civilian protest of that type was not in my charter of duties! Soon we heard shots - the CISF(central industrial security force) troopers had fired on some protestors trying to climb the walls and killed a man. This got on TV very fast, and CISF soon became 'security forces' and 'army'. I soon started getting calls from the brigade and division - I told them that we were not involved and sent them the video that we had captured. Very quickly, the division rebutted the media claims and the army was saved an unfair embarrassment. 

      This was a hot location and within a year of us being replaced after we moved out to a peace station, they were attacked by terrorists. It was probably luck that protected my regiment, or maybe it was a combination of various actions that we took while we were there. We opted to give up on our sleep and comfort to ensure security - I addressed the unit to give them this option right at the beginning "Would you prefer to sleep, be comfortable, switch off and leave a few buddies behind, or do you want to undergo sleepless nights and fatigue, but go back together?"  Most opted for the second, and we pushed the others along in that direction.

    When we moved out of there, ours was one of the few units to complete a tenure without any casualties, and yet do more than expected in terms of the operational role. In any case, my wife learned to fire while we were there!

    

Death of a CO on the Line of Control

   

The army's main business is war, and an outcome of this is death. Many a time, death occurs in peace time and near almost war like scenarios. I am reminded of the deaths that I saw from very near as I think of my second commanding officer, Colonel MD Moorthy, who passed away yesterday from a heart attack.     

    In 2002, I was attached with 121 Light Regiment (Congo), deployed on the LC in Rajouri - Poonch sector in Jammu and Kashmir. It was another regiment with a honour title from Congo in 1961, like my own, 52 Field Regiment(Sanjoi Mirpur). This was during Operation Parakram, the mobilization that took place after an attack on the Indian parliament by Pakistan backed terrorists. I along with all other instructors at School of Artillery, Devlali were attached to various regiments that had been mobilized against Pakistan.

     I was posted at the regiment HQ and our two batteries were participating in shelling almost on a daily basis. During Operation Parakram, along most of the Line of Control, light regiments fired throughout the 11 months, since they had bigger firepower(120mm mortars) than infantry mortars(81mm), but not big enough to call it 'escalation'. Remember, a field gun is 105mm calibre, but has much longer reach. During one such fire assault, there was effective counter bombardment fire, and one of the gun detachment NCOs was hit by splinters and died. I was tasked to escort the last remains of the gunner from Rajouri to Jammu airport and get it on a plane. This is done on a truck with a black flag to indicate a funeral journey, and throughout the 7 hour journey,   I saw military vehicles stopping and soldiers saluting as we passed by. Airport and airline staff were bureaucratic but helpful and we could coordinate the movement and reception at his home station well.

    I was sent as a battery commander to one of the two batteries soon afterwards. It was in direct support to an infantry(Dogra) battalion in Naushera area. The CO had recently taken over, a thorough professional with a Shaurya Chakra and Sena Medal to his name. A few days after reaching, I was at my battery, which was down the mountain slope and took about an hour of walk and jeep to reach. I think we were preparing for an admin inspection by the brigade commander. In the evening, when I reached the battalion headquarters, I found the subedar major (SM/Sergeant Major in other armies) at the command post bunker with the radio set and frantic transmissions going on. He told me that an operation was on and the CO was involved. Suddenly the phone rang, and the SM handed over the phone to me, saying it was the brigade commander. For me, 'commander' meant artillery commander, and when he asked me, what is happening? I said I don't know, the infantry battalion SM is here, and he says an operation is going on. He started shouting at me that I was unaware of the situation. And I was wondering why the artillery commander was calling on the infantry line. It turned out that he was the infantry brigade commander, and the CO had been killed in an operation involving terrorists who had sneaked in across the LC. There was no one else at the battalion headquarters, so I manned their radio for the next few hours, till their second in command fetched up. Apparently, the CO used to always be on the move between companies and platoons deployed on that ridge. He had walked in on a group of terrorists who had sneaked in during the afternoon, and planned to cross the ridge at night. He and his team had got caught in a firefight and he was shot before the terrorists escaped across the LC, which was just 400 metres away. We spent the rest of the night handling phone calls from all over the army, including from the Vice Chief's office. He was from the same regiment and was keeping a close watch on things from there.

    The battalion was asked to send a citation for the CO, and since he had already received two gallantry medals, the next higher one was to be recommended. Since the battalion officers were involved in the funeral and other duties, I along with one of their company commanders got down to writing the first draft of the citation. We next got orders to engage the enemy posts across the valley with artillery and everything else we had.

The next 3 to 4 days were busy, as I and the officiating CO of the battalion moved from company to company post, executing fire assaults on the enemy, sending the message that if they tried to push terrorists across, they would have to face the fury of our firepower. A number of bunkers were reported to have been destroyed every day, but I have not yet seen a change in posture or long term effect of these 'destroyed' bunkers. One of the command bunkers down in the valley and closer to the enemy was destroyed the day after we engaged the enemy from there (they were a day late in doing that, luckily for us). We also had some hot words a couple of times, when infantry wanted me to engage a particular bunker and I had to tell the CO that artillery, least of all mortars cannot directly be aimed to hit pin point targets like bunkers. That day, we were at a post where there was no artillery line(radios could not be opened), and we were to engage with field guns. I had arranged to use the infantry line on time sharing basis(innovate when required, like a good gunner officer!), but the exchange would keep switching the line for other admin tasks and our shoot was taking a long time. The CO said "we could get this over with as soon as artillery is able to fire" or some such remark, and I gave back "we could start the fire as soon as the infantry stops using the line to coordinate rations". But in the end, we had an eventful day, because the enemy correctly guessed where we were firing from and hit us with everything they had(artillery, rockets machine gun fire).

     About a month later, the army commander, Lt Gen Nanavatty was to visit the battalion. He is famous in the army for being forthright and blunt with his command, and also sacking people who could not meet his expectations. It seems that the citation for gallantry had reached the command HQ, and the general wanted to confirm the events stated in the citation. He landed at a helipad a couple of kilometres away and was to drive up to the battalion HQ. He was a soldier's soldier, and did not want the usual line up of the chain of command there, so only I and the officiating CO were waiting for him. He got off the jeep, looked at me, and said "Your 3 ton (truck) driver tried to kill me on the way up. This sikh boy doesn't know how to drive! I want you to sort him out." I knew that we did not have a sikh driver in my battery, so I told him "not my man, sir". I was still a Captain then (attached officers do not get field promotions, although there were majors dime a dozen in the formation with 3 years of service, while I had about 9 years under my belt), and everyone standing (including Gen Nanavatty) there gave me that look which said "he's bought it, disagreeing with the army commander".  So he said, "no, it was your man, the truck had the tactical number '255'"(army units have unique tactical numbers that identify the type of unit, without giving away which specific one within a division). I immediately said, sir, that's the engineer regiment, we are tac number 234! That saved my skin!

     I also spent a lot of my spare time reading up military history for the staff college exam that I intended to attempt next year. They had included military history as a  subject from that year, and the campaign was the Indo Pak war of 1948-49. I was posted in the area of most of the action - Jhangar, Nowshera, Rajouri, Poonch (some interesting links about the battles of 1948) etc, and I made the most of it, seeing many of the battle locations on ground.

     A couple of weeks later, I moved out from the battery since another major, senior to me was posted in and he took over. Of course, the move might have been sped up a little, because I had discovered discrepancies in ration accounting while reviewing documents for the admin inspection later that month. Since I was an officer attached with the unit for the operations, this was not taken very kindly by the CO.

Case of the Missing Meat

This is a short one about administration as a function of leadership.

     Everyone in the army has lamented about the quantity and quality of rations at some point in his military career. Early during the command of my regiment, the field officer for the week reported to me for taking special instructions for his duty. He was a young captain and probably doing it as a routine, being among the few officers available at regiment HQ that week. Fresh rations (milk eggs, meat vegetable etc) are collected by units twice a week under the system of replenishment of rations in peace time. I gave him the task of weighing meat rations at the regiment gate when the Junior Quarter Master(JQM) JCO brought it in after collecting it at the local ASC supply point. The officer wanted to check the demanded weight etc, but I told him to do all that after the surprise check, as otherwise people in the chain get alerted to a possible inspection and could play the system.

     As commanding officer, I wanted to make sure that my officers and men received good rations - during service we all have heard of how the system was incorrigible and did not ensure good food to the troops, how the quality of food had deteriorated over the years etc. My aim was to check if we were in fact drawing rations that were as stated in the regulations. Improving regulations was not my aim or job at that point.

     The officer reported back at the end of the day with 43 odd kg of meat weighed at the gate vs 70 kg in the transaction documents. I asked the quarter master and second in command(2iC) to find out why. There were no reasonable answers for the shortfall. These rations were meant for all officers and troops dispersed in gun positions, regimental HQ and our company operating base on the line of control. I had to set an example, and more importantly, it was my command responsibility to ensure good rations for my team. Therefore I decided to 'march up' the JCO on charges of neglect of duty. This is a very rare occurrence - JCOs can be marched up and disciplined by a commanding officer only with the consent of the division commander. I instructed the second in command to draw up a charge sheet and initiate disciplinary proceedings. This was enough to shake up the regiment. The subedar major(sergeant major in other armies) landed up and requested me to reconsider, as the JQM was a good JCO. I myself knew him from my captain days in the regiment to be a simpleton, who would not indulge in illegal activities. It was possible that he had been shortchanged by the supply point. However, there was a shortfall in quantity of rations under his charge and there was a doubt about what had actually happened. My aim was not to get entangled in finding the truth at that point - it was to ensure good rations for my command.

     Letting the JCO go without any action would not help me achieve my aim - checking every ration issued from supply point was not feasible. So we decided to play some mind games. I ordered the head clerk to draft a letter to the GOC stating my intention to hold court martial proceeding against the JCO. The news spread quickly through the regiment, and most JCOs were soon in shock, it seemed(although we actually didn't send the letter!). Next, I and the 2iC(who was also the JCO's superior in the chain) arranged to march up the JCO. The idea was to go through the procedure, but not punish the man, only drive home the message that if rations were not accounted for, drastic steps would be taken. We agreed that during the process, I would give the 2iC a signal on which he would request me to let the JCO go, and I would do so with a warning. This would send the message that the CO is large hearted, the 2iC knows his men and cares for them, but rations cannot be played around with, since even a JCO could be marched up for it and this time one got away by the skin of his teeth!

     In the meantime, the officer commanding supply point, a young captain landed up unannounced at my office to plead on behalf of the JCO. Apparently the message about disciplinary proceedings and letter to the division commander had reached him through the grapevine. I told him to worry about his own job, seeing that his unit was supplying less than documented rations instead of worrying about my JCO.

     We went through the process -  the JCO was marched up, he got a mouthful from me, adequate tension was built up in the orderly room, the 2iC intervened and the JCO 'managed' to escape punishment.

And for the rest of my command tenure, fear of God ensured that my officers and men collected good rations for themselves!

Siachen Story Part 4 - The army moves you by air only to induct in a hurry!

Continuing from my last post on Siachen, Siachen Story Part-3 Life at 20500 Feet, which I wrote in 2015. This one has photos!

I stayed overnight at Thoise airfield, thanks to my course mate from the airforce. It was good to be among friends and recount the ground level stories from Amar post with the flyboys, who would only land there for a couple of minutes. I also opened up the annual confidential report that I had received in mail - the air force officers were very curious about it and wanted to take a look. The armed forces confidential reports are on a scale of 1 to 9, and they were impressed with the number of 9s and 8s in my report for various parameters, till I told them that this was a typical report for a Captain with two years' service. Apparently, in the air force, officers with similar profiles would get 7s and 6s!

     The next morning, I was flown to the company HQ at 'Kiran' in a Cheetah helicopter. I found that the pilot detailed to fly me to my post was a senior from my squadron at NDA.

This post was held by a Parachute battalion. I landed there and met the company commander who was a para commando, and the doctor - he happened to be my squad mate during induction training and it was good that I was in the hands of someone I knew for medical cover! Little did I know that I would be needing his skills very soon! There was a field gun position just behind the company HQ, so I knew my tools were at hand. I spent an hour with them and started my trek up the mountain to my post on a narrow ridge, a two hour climb away. I was to man an artillery observation post(OP) on a cliff overlooking the Gyong Glacier at 19,000 ft. - just three of us in a bunker. Enroute was an infantry mortar position, where I met the mortar platoon commander who was a spirited man.

             

    The previous officer at that post had been evacuated some time ago due to frostbite, and only his OP party was left. They were hill troops and had abandoned the fiber glass hut(FGH), which was perched on the cliff (one half was hanging in the air and held up by ropes tied to the rocks on the cliff). Apparently, a few days earlier, they had been shelled and the FGH was damaged. Being superstitious, they refused to repair the hut and move back in, the idea being that the FGH is warmer and can be lived in, while the bunker is used to engage the enemy or whenever enemy shelling is on. They were also displaying classic low morale symptoms - not doing their military duties, not keeping a watch on the enemy, eating just one meal a day etc, probably because they were feeling abandoned after their officer was evacuated.

    The bunker itself was extremely cold and drafty(being an understatement - imagine a -70 degree wind through your 7ftx5ft room made of piled up rocks!) since one wall was a cliff whose other side was a 3000ft drop(!), using the toilet meant hanging onto a rope to do your job, and the food was tinned and cold. Unfortunately for me, the helicopter ride was not made available to my regiment's OP party, which was now trekking up from base camp, and would take another 15 days to reach.

Two days in that freezing bunker, and I told the men that we needed to repair the FGH and move in. They were hesitant, so I called up the company commander and asked for some help. That arrived in the form of  a working party from the mortar position with two used parachutes(these are left over after the Mi17 helicopter drops supplies; they are collected to provide insulation and cover gaps between FGH panels). In no time they had repaired the hut, and by evening, I moved in. After a couple of days one of them came in(apparently enamored by the princely standard of living that I had achieved for myself!) and asked if he could move in too. I said of course, and he joined me in the warm comforts of the FGH. This was in January, when the outside temperature at that altitude was in the -50 to -60 degree range. Soon the other NCO also joined us, and in a few days my unit team arrived and these two were sent off to base camp.

There was a lull in shelling during this time, since it was 'Ramzan' season for our friends across the line. All was quiet and we got busy improving our defences - I needed sandbags to rebuild the entrance to the fighting bunker which had disintegrated over time. We included this in our daily situation reports (sitrep), but the sandbags did not turn up. So we did the next best thing - plugged the gaps between rocks in the bunker walls with packets of frozen Cadbury's Eclairs toffee and whatever else we could find! There were also routine line(to check the telephone line) patrols and link patrols(to restock rations and kerosene), which we all did regularly. There is no distinction between officer and soldier - I also went on these patrols, since there were only three of us and one had to always be manning the observation post and radio. We also prepared hot water for when we got back from these patrols to warm up our feet, which would be near frozen - this was SOP, and many a soldier who had not followed it had to be evacuated with frostbite.

One day (I think Ramzan ended that day, 16 February 1997), we were on top of our bunker repairing it, when the first shells of our tenure started landing. This was around 4 pm and we quickly got into the bunker in combat mode - binoculars, compass, target list, field telephone and radio. The radio was a backup, all communication was via telephone. I started the procedure to engage the enemy post across the valley in front of us. We started engaging the enemy positions - orders were that I could fire ten shells if I saw enemy movement or was fired upon. While I was passing corrections on line, a shell exploded outside and the splinters entered our bunker through the door(the one that could not be repaired due to shortage of sandbags). One hit me in the head and ricocheted off the steel plates in the ceiling. I fell down and the line went dead.

My operator, Dharamvir tried to get the phone working but couldn't. I was wearing a balaclava, which was now torn and there was blood all over it. The Technical Assistant(TA), Gyanender tried to stop the bleeding while Dharamvir got the radio going and passed "OP officer is casualty". This is a very open ended message and people at the company base and mortar platoon started imagining the worst, since an officer casualty is a big event - and is reported all the way up to army HQ. I was concerned that the enemy could probably hear these messages(ANPRC radio set was used without encryption due to reduced ranges in mountains). The company commander came on radio and said that he was sending a stretcher party to evacuate me. The shelling just got worse and now it was continuous. By this time, I checked myself and found that my head was still screwed tight to my neck, and passed a message that I was okay and did not want a stretcher party, as they would get caught in the shelling too. I also ordered fire to continue on the enemy post. Then I told the operator not to pass anything else on radio without asking me. Around 1830h, the shelling stopped, and when we checked up, we found that the cables had been ripped off the telephone when I fell. We patched it up and called the company HQ, reported that we were okay.  The doc wanted to examine and patch me up, so I decided to trek down to company headquarters. Mortar platoon sent me a link patrol, with whom I went down, leaving my operator and TA holding fort. It took me two hours in the dark to reach through 2 feet of snow.

    The doctor checked me up - it was a superficial wound, which needed to be stitched up. He didn't have anasthesia so I told him to just sew it up. I spent the next day under medical observation at company HQ, while my post was shelled. I got frantic calls from my team and I managed to get them a couple of shoots(engaging targets using artillery) from the gun position nearby. The doctor wanted to call for a helicopter to evacuate me for further medical treatment, but I refused, since I had seen what happened to the previous team when the officer was evacuated. So I decided to go back to my post.

By evening, I reached the post and my men were truly happy to see me. We decided to teach our friends across a lesson. The next morning, I passed orders to the gun position to engage a target. The Gun Position Officer (GPO), a JCO was hesitant, as firing was not common in the sector at the time, but he fired. The orders were that if the OP officer saw a target or was fired upon, he could engage with 10 field gun rounds. I decided to engage a second target, and the GPO now wanted clearance from his regimental command post. I talked to the company commander, who had become friends with me by then, and since the telephone exchange was controled by him, I 'asked' him to 'cut' the line to the rear. The GPO now said that he could not fire since he did not have clearance from his command post or communication(radios were not the primary means of communication). I ordered him to commence firing on my orders, since I was his superior officer in location, else I would have him shot for disobedience! I had a little more than 2 years service when I did this, but that was the need of the hour in my mind. We fired almost 70 field artillery shells that day, in addition to countless infantry mortar bombs on a number of targets. In the evening, the field regiment CO called me on telephone(we had 'restored' line comunicaction with the rear by then) and threatened me with a court martial, saying the ammunition was brought up and dumped via helicopters and I did not have permission to fire so much. I replied that I saw enemy movement 7 times and did what I had to, and he could do what he wanted to. That was the end of the matter.

We spent the next few days engaging various enemy posts. Since I had not yet done my Advance Gunnery course, I improvised some shooting methods in the mountains. For those who understand ballistics and gunnery, distance from OP to target was between 1500 to 2000m, height of target was about 5000 to 5500m, temperatures were -40 to -50 degrees below zero. We spent almost every day rushing into the bunker on hearing the whistling sound from the shells headed over us(if you can hear the sound, those shells will miss you and fall beyond you).

An interesting anecdote on the Yeti - we used to sleep in the FGH and most nights there would be fresh snow all around us. When we woke up and came outside, we could see undisturbed snow on all the slopes around us. One day, we saw footprints on the snow, which were too big to be that of humans but too similar to a human footprint going cross country on the slopes from near our post. Was it the enemy or the abominable snowman, we don't know. My camera did not have the resolution to capture it in the glare of sunlight on snow, so I let it go.

The infantry battalion came to know of our actions and they started sending me requests for fire on enemy posts that they were unhappy with, alongwith gifts of sweets(made on their posts, wrapped in newspaper with half the print mixed with the food). Once, the company commander and the doctor trekked up to us with a supply of tinned milk and sweets. Since doc had never seen an artillery shoot, I did one live for him on the enemy. Its very difficult to see the fall of shot in mountains and to help him see, I must thave fired the only 'smoke, orange'  ammunition in the sector, ever! He managed to see a couple of shells falling on target and also sat through a heavy counter bombardment that day.

     I was nearing the end of my tenure there when I got a call from the base, saying I was being relieved in a couple of days as I had to go to Dehradun for my Pilots Aptitude test. I had applied for this before coming to Siachen and had forgotten about it. This was to become an army aviation pilot. My reliever landed up in the next two days and after a short handing over program, I started my journey back. Since I had three days to reach Dehradun, I and my party had to complete the three day trek back to base in two days, and then I had to take an air force transport plane to Chandigarh, and a bus to Dehradun to appear in the test.

     Like everything else, the trek back was eventful - I had to carry a secrecy device as big as a suitcase on my head since the Yak earmarked for the load misbehaved and ran away(apparently, my rucksack with a short wave radio was loaded on the it. The radio switched on and the sound of static scared the yak)! The porter was very apologetic, but since I was the only one without a load, I had to carry this one. The good part of the story is that the air force plane was piloted by my course and squadron mate from NDA. He insisted that I travel in the cockpit and pointed out all the instruments during the hour long flight, to help me pass the pilot's test. Thanks to him, I did pass the test, but couldn't join army aviation. That's another story.

A couple of years later in the deserts, wearing all the medals collected during my Siachen tenure: