DUTY BEYOND DEATH

DUTY BEYOND DEATH

By

Lt Gen PG Kamath (Veteran)

(First Published in Samarika- Golden Jubilee Magazine of 42/51/35 Course)?

?It was 0230 hours and the night was biting cold.? I was walking with my small Reconnaissance and Protection Group across the bed of a mountain stream.? Centuries of flowing water had rounded the stones on the bed making our trudge difficult. We were tripping over them in the pitch-dark moonless night trying our best to minimize the noise level.? The mountain nullahs meander down from the high mountains into the valley and a torrent of water sweeps away any unwitting human or animal crossing the stream in the swirling deluge and smashes them on the intervening boulders and often the victim’s body is retrieved several miles downstream.? However, when it had not rained the beds were accessible for crossing and that is what we were doing to cut distance and time.

We were careful to remain silent as any excessive noise would draw enemy fire and we would also disturb our ambushes which were lying in wait for the infiltrating terrorists across the LOC.? I always carried a weapon with me as I did not want to be ambushed by the enemy or caught unaware.? I certainly did not want to ever die without a fight; notwithstanding the protection provided to me. It would be a shame for any Brigade commander on the LOC to die without fighting, and fight he must.

We were reaching an ambush site that had had a contact that night and a heavy exchange of fire had taken place. The Commanding Officer (CO) of the area had radioed to me and my staff had already taken all the actions to cordon the area so that the infiltrating terrorists would not escape. Several rings of cordon were laid in the dead of the night by moving troops to pre-designated locations.? At the rendezvous point, we met the CO and proceeded to the ambush site after adequate ‘Identification Friend or Foe’ drills. It was pitch dark and certainly not wise to carry out search operations of the killing ground as there would be grenades, mines, wounded terrorists, and booby traps.? Once the day broke the Ambush Commander, a young robust and sturdy Garhwali was jubilant.? He took us to the encounter site: Indeed; what a great site for a professional soldier to fete his eyes upon.? All four bodies of infiltrating terrorists were strewn across the area in their desperate attempt to engage and flee.? Obviously, as per their well-rehearsed drills, two were to engage and two to flee in different directions. Then the third had to flee in a third direction and the last person to crawl out by firing intermittently. They had done everything but were of no avail as all had been shot dead after a heavy exchange of fire.? The site was littered with their four AK 47/57 rifles, bayonets, knives, spilled-over contents of rug sacks such as roasted chicken, dates, rations, chocolates, ammunition, Chinese grenades, improvised explosive devices, detonators, fuses, radio sets, Indian currency notes, assorted batteries, first aid kits, morphine, and a whole lot of survival kits.? Their bodies bore several bullet wounds and blood had spewed on the stones adding colour to the site.

It was a pleasing sight to any soldier.? The ambush was perfectly laid after a detailed study of the ground and the Ambush commander ensured that all the escape routes had been plugged and the orders to fire were given at the precise moment ensuring the fate of the terrorists was sealed even before the start of the fire.? I congratulated the ambush commander and asked him to occupy their positions so that others could draw lessons from his perfect siting of the ambush.

It was after this, I wanted to hug the boys for the mission accomplished. The troops of the ambush got together for my formal recognition and appreciation. However, there was one soldier who was still lying about 30 yards away, motionless still holding his rifle intact and his eyes locked to the killing ground.? The Party Commander called out to him to join the rest.? However, there was no response so we approached him the rifle was still clutched in his hands and his right-hand index finger was on the trigger, his eyes wide open trying to take in as much ambient light in the dead of the night when he had fired.? It appeared that he was showing a demonstration as to how to fire, to a batch of young soldiers. When he was touched his body rolled sideways with the rifle still in his hands. On a closer look, we noticed one of the bullets had pierced his forehead and he had attained ‘Martyrdom’ in the exchange of fire.

A shiver ran up my spine.? His body said everything that had happened.? He had fired over 15 rounds and from his relative position to the bodies of the terrorists, one could make out that in the pitch-dark night, his senses were so accurate that he had killed two of the four infiltrating terrorists.? His body manifested everything that could be said as ‘Killed in Action' with the rifle still clutched and his finger on the trigger.? Holding his rifle long after his death showed us what is ‘Duty beyond Death.’ All our jubilation deflated like a pin to an inflated balloon.?

A soldier; a son of mother India had died.? His blood had soaked the mother earth enriching the soil.? Who said “Patriotism is Nurtured by the Blood of Heroes;” how true?? To my countrymen; one more added to the national statistics!

More than two decades later; to this day I cannot forget the sight of his rigor mortised body that had ‘Courage and Duty’ frozen in it. Moistened eyes and a silent salute follow. Jai Hind!

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