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!

    

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:

Siachen Story Part 3 - Life at 20,500 Feet

    Also read: Siachen Story Part 2 - Deployment

    We stayed holed up in that bunker till about 6:30 pm, when it become dark and the shelling stopped. My first exposure to being under fire was for almost ten hours. I met the officer and his men who were in the OP bunker - all grinning from ear to ear on seeing their 'reliever', and were they relieved! Next few hours were spent trying to understand the layout of the post, all of 20 x 20 metres on a saddle formed between two peaks. I also had to understand the lay of the ground, enemy positions, gun locations and understand the map well. All at night.

       

     I was to live in an ice bunker or 'cave', 8ft x 10ft along with my OP team and a nursing assistant who had already spent some time on the post. Since the bunker was barely 4 feet high, we had to crawl in through a tunnel that was curved to keep out splinters and the snow, and I realized that the roof was supported by  the tail frame of a Cheetah helicopter! And the only officer in the bunker had the privilege of keeping his personal stuff on  the shelves patched up within the frame. We had central heating - four perpetually burning stoves kept in the centre of the bunker, belonging to each man, and individual lighting - those bulbs that we'd carried along from our unit. The interior was soot blackened because of the stoves and dark in spite of the small bulbs that were on throughout the day. One corner was dedicated to our food stores: cartons of condensed milk, nuts and chocolates, packaged juices, and a whole lot more. In fact, this was what Siachen was famous for - the unending supplies of expensive and high quality packaged food that was way beyond the reach of most soldiers and officers outside of Siachen. The stoves were used for heating as well as cooking. Thanks to kerosene, which does  not freeze even at -50C! Every trip in the open or in the OP bunker for observation duties was followed by hot water treatment - essentially putting your hands and feet in a container full of hot water to thaw them out. Since there were no buckets on the post, jerry cans cut along the cross section made a perfect flat water container.
 
    The next morning, I got into the daily routine of getting up at at least 0530 hours to crap. Reasons: you had to drop it in the open, so dark was prefered (no drainage or plumbing is possible in -50C, on top of which regular shelling destroys everything that's not inside a bunker), and you had to do it before the enemy started shelling after first light. The first day was very embarrassing - you had to sit in the open flanked by soldiers amidst small piles of shit that had frozen and could not be removed or buried. Thankfully, I didn't have to expose my 'officer-like' ass to the men - only because our clothes had a strategically located zipper system that allowed us to unzip, drop our load, wash and zip up before you could say 'Jack Robinson"! On heading back to my bunker, I saw the Nursing Assistant holding an intact mortar bomb and gleefully shouting "this will make a good souvenir". We had a tough time convincing him to throw it and hoped it wouldn't blow up in the process. Unexploded ordnance is very dangerous and can blow up even if its just touched!

     My team landed up over the next two days, amidst long shelling sessions. We got down to improving the OP bunker, essentially rebuilding it at night. During the process of digging up snow to fill the sand bags, we discovered a sack full of AK47 ammunition, which we used over the next few days for target practice on the condensed milk tins lying around the bunkers. Food was essentially some noodles in the morning, canned juice, nuts, tea and chocolates throughout the day and we would make some regular 'dinner' at night. There was chicken and tinned fish lying around in sacks that no one seemed interested in eating.  This was attributable purely to superstition that 'OP Baba' would get angry if someone on a post ate meat (this was extended to even chocolate, on some posts!). A few days on, decided that I would not go along with this and asked my men to prepare chicken for lunch for me. Initially, they refused to eat it themselves, but after a few days, the need for protein overcame their superstition; chicken and fish became a daily affair in our bunker. The infantry soldiers were a bit more conservative and they refused to eat it, as did the captain who was the post commander. They did tell me that I was testing the OP Baba's patience and some great misfortune would befall me, but here I am, twenty years later. So much for OP Baba! I think this was a very convenient belief for those who were in the  racket of siphoning off the expensive rations to be sold in the black market in Chandigarh. Only issue with fish was that most of the time it gave us the loosies and our only worry was using the (non existent) toilet during shelling. And chicken needed 25 'whistles' and two hours in the pressure cooker!

     Incessant shelling was a regular feature on most days. Bombs falling around you every day makes you immune to the shock and noise after some time. We actually learnt to sleep through shelling in the afternoon, for want of anything better to do. Sometimes, the stoves would go off because of the shock from an explosion and one of us had to get up and relight them. During our time at 'Amar', almost 60 days, no one got hurt. The most dangerous time was dusk, when shelling would stop (probably because of the enemy's 'Namaz' timings) and everyone would be eager to get out of the bunkers. The Pakistanis would fire a few parting shorts after a gap to catch the people outside, but fortunately, no one got hurt. So we made it a point to go out only after waiting for some time.

    Our only contact with the world was the trusted ANPRC radio set. However, because of reduced ranges due to terrain screening, secrecy devices were not used. The radio operators created their own codes for daily chatter. South Indian troops were sought after as they were not understood by the enemy. There was, of course BBC and All India Radio to entertain us. Once in a while the helicopter would bring us mail which was sought after by the soldiers waiting for some news from their families. There was no leave during the six month tenure on the post, simply because of the time and effort required to reach the forward line. So everyone would be waiting eagerly for their time to come to an end.

    I don't want to give away the secrets of artillery fire control at these heights. For those who understand, distance from gun to target, 15,000 m; OP to target 1200-1600 m; and target height 6100 m ASL. Gunners around the world will understand the difficulty of hitting such a target, thanks to effect of slope and meteorology in mountains! I was a newly promoted Captain and had not yet done my fire control course. But later, I realized  some 'moves' that I improvised were part of standard procedure.
 
    At this height, normal blood pressure of  human being is 160 / 110 and our nursing assistant would check it every week. Walking even 5 metres was tiring and we would be breathless, especially when it was windy. Things were worse on a bad weather day - clouds, snow fall and extreme winds brought down temperatures to -50C. Just getting out of the bunker would be a difficult task. The good part: there was generally no shelling on such days, and there were no 'link patrols' on this post. It simply wasn't linked to any other place on Earth!

    Superstition was widespread among troops on the post. A day after we repaired our OP bunker, it was sprayed with medium machine gun fire and there were prominent pock marks all over the sand bags(these were white to merge with the snow). Obviously, the enemy was keeping an eye on us. A couple of infantry soldiers who were on duty at that time said that it was because we were eating meat. They tried to dissuade us from eating meat in future. To keep 'OP Baba' happy, no doubt! Firing and artillery duels were relatively less frequent in winter due to the cold. In spite of that, it was always 'hot' on Amar, and that's why it was notorious, especially because of the large number of artillery OP officers who'd bought it while on Amar. 

    I wrote to my CO, back in my own unit a couple of times. He promptly sent  copies of my letters to the brigade and divisional commanders. Sure enough, I got letters from them within a month. The brigade commander's letter was nothing interesting, but the General's letter was a morale booster and really well thought out. That's when I really understood how a small interaction with leadership can motivate juniors.

   Some 40 days down the line, we got a message that our relief team had started from base camp. Amar OP had normal tenures of 45 days only, due to extremes of height, cold, and hostility. They would, of course take almost two weeks and some days to reach us. We started looking forward to being 'relieved'. We kept track of their progress on a daily basis and talked to the transit posts en-route to make sure they were moving up. They reached the Bila helipad after ten odd days. Now I was  fairly certain that the officer would be up in three to four days. But it was not to be - we got news that he had been flown out to Srinagar!  It turned out that this officer had been aide de camp to a General, who'd recently taken over command of the Corps in Srinagar. And he wanted to meet his old ADC. So out he flew, although he was back in a couple of days. It seems they didn't want to waste his acclimatisation cycle....

    It was a happy day when our relievers, led by an officer who was senior to me, landed. Three days later, we were back in the Bila helipad. That's where we got our next piece of 'good' news. I was to be airlifted to Aman OP(19000+ feet) in the Southern Glacier area. The OP officer there had to be evacuated as he had frostbite, and the post was required to be manned by an officer immediately. This meant that I would be airlifted from here to base camp, then to Thoise, and then yet again to the helipad nearest to Aman post from where I would walk up. My team was also promised a lift, but that's not the way Indian Army works! We were yet to see the reality... 

    I was dropped at Base Camp the next day at around 12:30 PM. I threw the 2 odd sets of undergarments that I'd worn over the past two months, got a haircut, shave and bath. It was great feeling like a shorn chicken after a long time. A quick lunch, and the discovery that the roll of film that I'd sent over earlier from the post for developing was lost! That sorted out all photos that I'd clicked on Amar! To make matters worse, my camera was acting weird, switching on every once in a while- I guess Siachen has its effects on electronics as well! I was on the MI-17 headed for Thoise at 4 PM. The pilot was my Air Force course mate from NDA, who suggested that I stay on the air base itself for the night, as I had to catch a Cheetah sortie next morning to Southern Glacier.
    
    
 
     

Siachen Story Part 1 - Induction

   Also read: AFT Judgement : What's Ailing the Army?

     I've been thinking about writing this for a long time, because many things are forgotten as time passes, and then again, they come back suddenly. So I didn't want to forget most of it...
   I was at Siachen Glacier as part of a volunteer Artillery Observation Post(OP) team towards the end of 1996 for about 6 months, the normal tour of duty for OP teams. This was before the ceasefire of 2003, a time when Siachen was active duty, and counted as a battlefield by Army Headquarters(I think it still is, even though active hostilities have ceased).

    

    Well, my unit had reached Northern Command the previous year, and we youngsters (2nd Lieutenants and Captains) knew that vacancies for OP teams would crop up sometime soon. I had just been appointed Adjutant on being promoted Captain with two years service. I was keeping track of anything 'Siachen' in the Brigade HQ and keeping the Brigade Major in good humour to get that detail. Well, it did come my unit's way in July 1996. Being adjutant, it was a little less likely that I would be spared for the tour, but I guess I was more persistent than others and was 'permitted' by the Commanding Officer(CO).

    An interesting aspect of selecting my team - the CO, Colonel Menon told me to pick up whomsoever I wanted from the regiment for my four team mates. No one would be refused. I spoke to the regiment (which I could, inspite of being a Captain with only two years service, since I was the adjutant) and asked for volunteers. Though I needed four men, I got almost 20 volunteers! (The next year, a JCO(warrant officer) was to go on  similar tour of duty. I was helping him select a team, and when he asked for volunteers, there were none! I wonder why?) 

    Ultimately I selected four who were physically fit, sincere fellows who would be effective in a difficult situation. Everyone knew what volunteering meant, because those days, casualties among OP officers and  men was quite high - due to enemy fire, as well as weather and terrain. Well, all of us were sent off on a month's leave immediately to meet our families and get back in high spirits. This was required, because the only means of communication during the tour was letters, and they were dependant on the weather, link patrols, helicopter sorties, and many other factors. I was a bachelor, and I spent my time in Delhi watching movies and enjoying civilisation, which I knew I wouldn't see for a very long time.

   No thoughts of patriotism and lofty ideas of service to the nation crossed my mind while volunteering(and lobbying) for the tenure. I was looking for some action, being under fire  just to see what it would be like(and engaging the enemy), three medals(High Altitude, Siachen Glacier and Jammu & Kashmir), and bragging rights for the rest of my life! Patriotism, I guess, was for people who only talked about it from the safety of their offices.

   Well, we prepared for the tenure, getting equipment(special clothing, stores etc) and personal stuff (a transistor and a camera with enough film rolls, among other things). One critical item that we fabricated in good numbers was a small torch bulb connected to two lengths of wire. This could be connected to a discharged PRC battery(combat radio battery) for light in the bunker. Spare batteries for the camera and transistor was another item that was critical(listening to 'Forces Request', a program on radio for military officers was a popular pastime at Siachen.
    We had to go to Chandigarh, from where we would be airlifted by AN 32s (transport aircraft of Russian origin) to Thoise, and then go by road to Base Camp. Well, on the day that we were to board the aircraft, four of them were lined up, and I was manifested on the first one, being an officer. My men were on other flights. Luckily for me, I insisted on taking my luggage with me and not leave it with them. Well, my aircraft landed at Thoise and the weather 'packed up'! That was the last and only flight to land in the next six days! So while I acclimatised myself with high altitude for the next week, my team waited it out in Chandigarh. By the time they arrived 6 days later, my acclimatisation was over and I was supposed to move on to base camp. Well, my CO had told me,"whatever happens, don't leave anyone behind and always move together." So I waited for another six days while my men acclimatised. At an altitude of about 10-11,000 feet, the human body need that much time to get used to lack of oxygen. But we were only halfway to our post! During this period, I also went to Leh and met the brigade commander. This was a routine interview for all inductee officers. En route I crossed the Khardungla pass at 19,000 feet twice, both times skidding across on a truck without snow chains on its wheels in snowed up conditions! I also helped change a tyre at 15,000 feet in snow fall. Took the best part of two hours for three of us!
    The glacier itself begins at the Base camp and extends 76(?) km North West. Then there are a number of smaller glaciers connected to it, with the Northern ones being held by the Indian Army. In September, daytime temperatures at Base Camp were about 10 deg C, which would drop drastically below zero at night. The first sight of Siachen Glacier was overwhelming. When driving up from Thoise, you can see a blackish feature in the far distance, which looks like a flat rock covering the width of the valley. As you get closer, you realize the size of it and understand that the glacier is actually a moraine, which is melting continuously at a very slow rate.The black colour is because of the rocks and soil in the moraine.
      Base camp was all about training for the induction. We spent three weeks training on the ice walls of the glacier. The officers were separated and made to lead small groups of men who were also inducting. So no question of short cuts or shamming. The two point and three point climb using cramp ons on our boots was a daily routine and was killing on the ankle. We all had swollen ankles within a week, because all our weight would be on the ankles while climbing the ice wall. The afternoons and evenings were spent socialising with batch mates and other youngsters, who were all there for a tour of duty of six months. Very often, shelling would start, mostly our batteries deployed in the camp, and usually, it would go on for a couple of hours. Sometimes, when we were free, we would go to the nearest command post of a 155 mm battery just to cheer the Gun Position Officer on! Sometimes we saw helicopters coming in with casualties from the Glacier, but mostly it was routine sorties.
    We had a couple of route marches on the Glacier during our training to get us used to moving while roped up. This was the time that we heard stories from instructors about people falling into crevasses and not being recovered, or getting frozen to death, or dying of a heart attack because of not following rules of the mountains. I remember that we never worried about any of it, just cracked jokes about it. One being that, if one of us should fall down a crevasse, the others should send a 'Kero Heater'(a small heater that runs on kerosene) down to keep the guy warm!
    Well, our training got over, and it was time for us to be allotted our post. Usually, the post would be allotted to the team before they inducted, but sometimes, because of emergency evacuations or casualties, the schedule couldn't be followed. We soon came to know our induction schedule. We were to occupy one of the most notorious and difficult posts at 20,500 feet above sea level, Amar OP. It was 12 days walk  from base camp followed by a helicopter ride, manned by a handful of infantry and an artillery observation team. Approachable only by helicopter from the Indian side, with no chance of evacuation for any reason in bad weather or while under fire . But this was exactly what I'd asked for, so I had no complaints!
     Unfortunately, we had our first and only drop out during the medical check up. Havildar Panna Lal, BPET (Battle Physical Efficiency Test) leader of the regiment was found to have heart murmur! He tried to make the doctors understand that he led the regiment during BPET, but it was no go. Anyway, we decided to leave him at the Base Camp as our logistic coordinator. All of us went to the OP 'Baba' temple to seek his 'blessings', because that was the tradition. My team went inside to get some moral support from the 'Baba', but I chose to hang around outside, since I had no inclination to believe in such superstition. I've observed that whenever the going gets tough, men would seek solace in all kinds of religious and superstitious beliefs and most officers would go along with it. I saw more of this phenomenon during my tenure at the posts as well. 
    Training completed, medical check ups done, gods appeased, and we were ready to induct!

A couple of links about the Siachen Glacier for those interested:

http://bullkumar.com/media/articles/cold-mountain
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Meghdoot

More about life on top of the world later!