SUPPER WITH SAPPERS

Prelude:

1971 War with Pakistan will always be remembered for the massive defeat inflicted by India to Pakistan. It was a neat job brilliantly executed, both in Western as well as Eastern theatres. Decisive Indian victory was crowned with capture of huge territories in Rajasthan sector.

 

In the East, Indian forces proved their mettle with equally dazzling success in the battle of Bengal. It climaxed with the surrender of Pakistani Army. Watched by the world, 70,000 Pakistani soldiers, led by Gen Niazi laid their arms down and signed the surrender to Gen Arora. East Pakistan declared ‘independence’ and a new nation – ‘Bangladesh’ was born.

 

Immediate aftermath of the war presented a rare opportunity for me to spend time with Engineer Regiments of Indian Army. Also known as ‘Sappers’ in army parlance, they are the civil engineers trained to work in combat zones. They build bridges, lay tracts in war zones to facilitate movement of troops. Laying and clearing mines, another dangerous task is also done by Sappers.

 

I paid several visits to Engineering Regiments stationed in forward areas and visiting Pakistani territories captured. These sojourns provided me valuable insights into the most difficult conditions under which these brave-hearts live and work. I lived in their tents, breaking bread with officers, sharing anecdotes with juniors, in short soaking in their lifestyle.

 

In the following blog, ‘Supper with Sappers’ I have tried to share my experiences with Engineers on the war-front.

SUPPER WITH SAPPERS

 

It was five in the morning when Jodhpur Express slowly chugged into Barmer Railway station. Month was December and year was 1971. Winter was at its peak. Passengers, all wrapped in heavy woolens got down and walked out quickly. No one came out from the only First-Class compartment. Inside two men were crouched  on their berths. Shrunk to ‘embryo pose’ to keep shivers away they were oblivious of train having stopped. Outside, two  army jawans were knocking at their door, shouting repeatedly, “Bambaiwale sahib, Bambaiwale Sahib”. Moments later, one of the passengers crawled to the door, opening it wee bit.  As if on cue the soldiers pushed in. They were carrying blankets. Handing these over, they said to the passengers, “Sir, our CO has sent blankets. Cover yourselves and go back to sleep. This train will go into the yard. At 8 O’ clock, we will come there and take you to our camp.

 

The passengers were none other than me and my technician. We had boarded the train previous night at Jodhpur. Caught unawares with no plans of travelling to Barmer we were ill-equipped. We had arrived at Jodhpur the previous morning and  were to return back same evening.

 

Beginning of December, India had fought a decisive war with Pakistan, inflicting crushing defeat both in Western and Eastern theatres. Pakistani Army had surrendered to India. 70,000 soldiers were taken prisoners and Bangladesh was liberated. In Western theatre Indian army ran deep into enemy territory capturing huge tracts of land in Barmer and Jaisalmer sectors. For the present a cease-fire had put a stop to the war.

 

                                                  

I was in Delhi when I got the call from my Mumbai office. R & D, Pune had contacted them for urgent demonstration of our water storage tank at Jodhpur. We used to manufacture portable plastic tanks for water storage. These were foldable tanks capable of storing up to 55,000 liters of water. Biggest tank when folded could be packed in a crate as small as 4’x3’x2’. Assembling it would take not more than 15 minutes. More than a year ago we had demonstrated it to R & D department of Defense Ministry at Pune. Nothing had materialized out of it then.

 

And now that the call was received, we had to respond. An air of urgency was clear in the call.  I was in Delhi at that time. My partner from Mumbai called me to inform that he had already deputed one of our technicians with a demo tank. He now wanted me to reach Jodhpur next morning and take care of the demo. I got on to the morning flight from Delhi to Jodhpur. From airport I rushed to the local army base. My technician had already reached there with the demo tank. We were directed to meet a CO (Commanding Officer), Lt Col Y. P. B. of 278 Engineer Regiment.

 

A swarm of uniform-clad personnel could be seen on the ground. We located the CO and greeted him. A tall, handsome guy, a debonair to the core, he seemed surprised at our alacrity to respond. He replied with a firm and warm hand-shake, saying “Welcome to Engineers”. He then directed one of his sub-ordinates to take us to the parade ground for the demo. He asked us to open the crate only after he came there because he wanted to see full process of unpacking, unfolding and then installing of the tank. As an Engineer he had an eye for details.  At the parade grounds, we met more some officers, JCOs and NCOs. Once the CO arrived, we started with the demo.

 

15 minutes later, we had the tank opened, assembled and ready for storing water. CO seemed impressed but did not show. He asked his team, “shoot your questions”.  A volley of questions and queries greeted us. We went on answering, clearing their doubts.

 

Once the question answer session was over, the CO threw a shocker at us. He said demo at parade ground in a city was OK but ground realities in forward areas were drastically different. Unless they see a full demo at-site, they would not be able to decide. He asked us to come to Barmer next morning for the purpose. It was a bolt from the blue because we were unprepared. I had to do some quick thinking. I decided to take a chance.

After-all, Patriotism was the flavor of the season.

His officers explained that we will need to take a train at 10 pm from Jodhpur. It will reach Barmer at 5.00 am next morning. They also warned us that night travel in winter would be tough. But they promised to take good care of us once we reached Barmer. They would arrange to pick us up and take to the unit. CO also assured us that we would be guests of the regiment and will be taken care of.

 

All I had carried with me was my brief case, no spare set of clothes, no toiletries. But then the OG(Olive Green) of the army rubs on you. Emotions ran high as Pakistan had received its worst drubbing at the hands of India. Deep inroads were made into Pakistan along Rajasthan border. The idea of visiting such forward area was in itself a big attraction.   

Accordingly, we had reached Barmer. At 8 am sharp, the army jawans came to the railway yard. They woke us up and took us to the railway station waiting room for freshening up. They then opened tiffin box having ‘aloo parathas and dahi’. They said, the drive ahead will be long and this breakfast will sustain us. After the hearty breakfast, we boarded the Army vehicle with our cargo in the back.

 

                                                                  …….to be continued

SUPPER WITH SAPPERS

 

Part 2. ONTO THE BORDER

An hour into the wilderness of desert our vehicle slowed down. A large area of land cordoned off with barbed wire came into view. A board hanged at the entrance reading ‘4567 Engineers’. I was to learn later that during war time, the real number of the unit is not displayed in forward areas. As we were entering the precincts, my excitement was palpable and I struggled to hide it. I tried to pinch myself to convince that we were inside a real life army camp in a real combat zone.

Spread over acres of arid land in the desert it had sizeable part reserved for Transport Company. Neatly parked were a variety of vehicles. One could see Jeeps, Jongas, Trucks of different sizes, armored vehicles and more. All of them in OG (Olive Green) color of army. Sense of discipline reflected even in parking of vehicles.

Other side of the camp was dotted with tents. Sizes varied. Some small, others bigger some even bigger. It was like a human temporary settlement with accommodation only in the form of tents.

Having reached the destination, our escorts excused themselves suggesting we wait a tent and went to summon someone. Minutes later I heard a voice, “Welcome to 4567 Engineer Regiment. I am Captain KP. I am the Adjutant here and will guide you around. A firm and warm handshake followed. The officer then instructed one of the soldiers to take my technician for refreshments.

I was escorted to the inside of the tent. It was a veritable office. A couple of guys in uniform were banging their old fashioned Remigton typewriters. Two more desks had soldiers sitting behind shuffling through files. Eye-catching sight was 5 Ton army truck  parked inside the tent in reverse. It’s rear end, the storage space was protruding inside the tent whereas the front end comprising driver’s cabin and the bonnet remained unseen and outside the tent. Wooden ladder with 4 steps was placed for going up to the storage space. This became the upper deck of the tent and served as officers’ cabin. On the upper level there were two desks, one smaller having nameplate reading Capt KP - Adjutant. The bigger one was for Major GPS – 2IC. (Second in command of the Regiment.) I had met him the previous day at Jodhpur. He also welcomed me. Tea and snacks arrived soon. After tea, he got up saying “let’s go & meet the CO”. He is waiting for you.”

In Army hierarchy CO is Commanding Officer of a regiment with the rank of Lt. Colonel. Every unit or Regiment is like a large family comprising about 650 or more soldiers with a group of officers. CO is the overall boss and commands respect and loyalty of every member of the unit. He is like a father figure and takes care of his family like one. Next in the line of command is 2IC who is a Major in rank. Adjutant can be explained as an officer acting as secretary to 2IC.

4567 Engineer Regiment was commanded by Lt Col. YPB whom the previous day we had given a demo in Jodhpur. CO occupied a large tent. Inside, was a spacious mahogany desk with a boss’s chair. A nameplate with his name and designation occupied a prominent position on the desk. A photograph of CO family was  another prominent item on the desk. His baton was delicately placed on other side. His beret was on the hook stand behind.  m. A board behind had coat of arms of the unit on top followed by the names of preceding and current COs with durations of their tenures.

He got up, shook hands and enquired about our journey and whether we received blankets. Once we were seated, he went on to explain why he wanted a demo on this base. He said Indian Army had penetrated deeply inside Pakistani territory in Barmer and Jaisalmer Sectors. To keep control over these occupied territories 2 Divisions of army were posted here. It amounted to almost 30,000 soldiers. Sustaining so many troops called for huge quantities of water supply.  Unfortunately, the area was arid-stark desert with not a drop of water anywhere.

Every day, a goods train of 64 water tankers ran from Jodhpur to the farthest army post. Problem was to store such huge quantities and to make it available at innumerable posts. Bombay Sappers (engineers) under Southern command had planned an ambitious water storage and distribution project. A network of pumping stations and underground pipelines was being laid. Idea was to have storage at the farthest point and from there feed the units scattered all over Barmer and Jaisalmer Sector. Our tank tanks could be folded and carted with ease. These could also be erected on site within 15 minutes. Hence it was being evaluated as preferred solution.

They also had to assess suitability of installing storage tanks below ground level to protect from frequent sand-storms and for ease of camouflaging.  

The genius of sappers in finding out quick solutions to such problems was something I learnt that day. The CO led us to an area earmarked for the demo. Overnight they had dug up a pit 30’ Día x5’Deep. Our tank of 24’x 4’ was too be installed inside. My technician helped by army jawans went into the pit and installed the tank in 15 minutes flat. It pleased the CO. Meantime, officers had already worked out angle of embankment to be provided for preventing caving in of side walls. Sandbags were to be used on sides as fortification.

Water was filled. Plastic cover was placed and its ropes were harnessed. All officers and soldiers on the ground applauded. Their only objection was blue color of the top cover. I promised OG color even for the cover.

We went back to CO’s office for discussing commercials like price, delivery schedules, payment etc. He said, he was retaining the demo piece. Meantime I was to supply as many tanks as was possible in coming weeks. 

This was huge success for me. I was keen to contact my partner in Mumbai to alert him so that he could start planning. CO meanwhile invited me for Lunch in the Officers’ Mess  but I declined politely. I needed to reach Barmer and call Mumbai. He arranged a vehicle. By evening, I was back in Barmer Post Office booking a lightening call to Mumbai. 

We got the night train from Barmer to Jodhpur reaching there early in the morning. My technician was to take a train to Mumbai. I reached Indian Airlines city office and confirmed my  flight to Delhi. By evening I was on a flight from Delhi to Mumbai.                           

 

                                              …………………..To be continued

SUPPER WITH SAPPERS

Part  3

WAR ROOM

Scene in my office the next day was no less than a war room. My partner was already on job discussing with production supervisor stocks of materials, production planning, recruitment of additional labor. We even needed an additional welding machine. Monga Electronics gave us one out of turn.

It was a paradigm shift for this product. What was up till now, essentially a luxury item of indulgence for the rich, suddenly acquired importance and that too for armed forces. So far only Royal Families of Bikaner, Jodhpur, Gwalior, film stars like Raj Kapoor, Rajendra Kumar and few rich industrialists had purchased these as ‘Portable Swimming Pools’. Now that armed forces have found use for it, we had to stand true to their expectations.

We upped our antennae. Labor at the factory supported us whole-heartedly. Night shifts were welcome. Our employees were too happy to recruit their own people for new-found jobs. Finance was not a major problem because during war situations our Armed Forces are given powers to make ‘payments on delivery.' Our suppliers were eager to show solidarity with us. Plastic sheets used in fabricating water tanks are not ordinary ones. Actually, these are was nylon fabrics coated with PVC. Knowing that requirement was for defense services, the producers of these sheets gave priority to our orders.

We also had to locate a transporter who would pick the goods up and deliver straight to the war zone. Even though cease-fire had put a stop to the war, there were apprehensions like violations of  cease-fire, hidden mines, surprise attacks by the enemy.

We lucked out in locating a truck owner ready to meet our requirements. Mr. Gaurishankar was a truck-owner engaged in ferrying truck-loads of marble powder from Rajasthan to Mumbai. On way back, his trucks used to go empty. Our need became a bonanza for him. It was a marriage of convenience for both of us. A Rajput, he knew no fear, war or not. He was our best bet.

War room at of our office buzzed round the clock. A schedule for weekly supplies was worked out and production got under way. A truck-load had to be pushed out every week. It would reach the destination on 3^rd Day. I would take a flight to Jodhpur and arrive at site same time as the goods.

Finally, first consignment of 5 Portable Plastic Tanks- each 24 ft dia x 4 ft height, having storage capacity of 55,000 liters was ready for shipping. It was put on board the truck. Owner of the truck, Mr. Gaurishankar came personally and performed small ceremony, broke a coconut and with the chants of ‘Har Har Mahadev’ and 'Bharat Mata ki Jai' the truck rolled out.

On third day, as per plan I reached the unit. Our truck arrived sometime later. The unit hands got busy unloading the cargo. A team of officers, aided by jawans got on the job of inspecting it. They had to follow their protocol of approving and accepting the goods. By evening the process got over and I presented my bills to the office of 2IC. The CO was informed. Once he was free, I went to see him in his office. He was full of appreciation. He assured me that I will get my payment next morning. Since the unit was based in wilderness, he invited me to be the guest of the regiment till I got my payments. I was delighted with the idea of spending a night with the unit.

In the meantime, something was bugging me. The regiments could make payments only by cheques, not demand drafts. Outstation cheques those days would take two to three weeks to clear. My predicament was solved by the 2IC. He spoke to the bank on phone. As per their advice, I will sign on back side of the cheque and my signature would be endorsed by 2IC. I could then proceed to the bank in Barmer. They will convert it into a demand draft immediately. That issue solved, we called it a day.

 

This time I had come prepared. It is worthwhile mentioning that when active war is on, a civilian may not be allowed to go anywhere near the forward locations.  But when there is a pause and a unit needs your presence, you may visit them. This is when armed forces get transformed into  being gracious hosts. They would go out of the way to make you comfortable. In fact a civilian in their midst is treated as honored guest. These people live in wilderness. They are fed up of seeing the same faces, same uniforms in same environs day after day. In such instances arrival of a civilian brings cheer to their faces. 

For my overnight stay I was allotted a room belonging to an officer who had gone on leave. A typical officer's room, it was equipped with a comfortable looking bed and  army blankets. A small desk with a chair and wooden table for keeping bags were by the side. Keeping company was a hangar stand with empty hangers. An orderly was posted to take care of my comforts. He showed me the bathroom and wicker lamp inside the tent. It was a unique experience for me. First time in life, I was to spend a night in a tent. I familiarized myself with the surroundings and fell asleep. At 6.30 the orderly woke me up and said I should freshen up. At 7 pm he would escort me to the Officers’ Mess for dinner.

I dressed up and came out. It was pitch-dark with only stars glowing in the sky. Border areas used to observe 'black-outs'. An eerie silence prevailed, broken only by  scattered sounds of a soldier or an officer shouting. Faint outlines of nearby tents was the only thing visible.

Undressed nature is a sheer beauty.

My orderly, guided me to the Officers’ mess. On the way he advised me against venturing out alone during the night because it was easy to lose your way in desert. Minutes later we reached a tent with a board, 'Officers' Mess'. Orderly left as I entered the mess. There, I was met with by the Adjutant. Soon, we were joined by the 2IC. One after the other officers trickled in and I was introduced to them. I was not familiar with rank-wise hierarchy in army but all officers, irrespective of position tried to be friendly.

CO arrived and came straight to me, “Hope you are managing alright. Tell your orderly if you need anything in the room.” I was overwhelmed with the ‘mehman-nawazi’ in this remote desert-land. A buffet table was set up on the side. The Adjutant came to me and said, Sir, pick up a plate. I hesitated thinking I was the youngest person there and how could I precede seniors. The 2IC interjected and said, Sir, you are our guest and as per Army tradition, you have to be the first one to pick up a plate. Embarrassed but impressed, I went ahead and filled my plate. Food was sumptuous and tasty. My appreciation prompted one of the officers to say, “Sir, we are faujis and we eat like faujis. Our khansama understands this and takes pains to ensure that we are kept happy. After-all he too has to survive here”. Another officer added that Food generally is good but rotis and parathas keep reminding that you are in desert. Fine sand finds its way in the dough but then over a period of time you get used to it.

Bonhomie is born naturally in unusual circumstances.

Light hearted banter continued till the CO  announced his departure. One after the other we all followed. Adjutant escorted me to my room. I was tired after all the travel and a busy day. I changed and went to bed. Must have slept instantly. 

Morning tea arrived in my room, courtesy orderly. Shit, shave & shower was next on agenda. Army spirit was rubbing on me. Raw efficiency and quick reflexes is their mantra for survival. I felt I belonged here. It was a surreal feeling.

At 10 O’ clock I was in the truck-top office of the 2IC. He went through my papers one more time, spoke to the CO on phone and ordered Adjutant to write a cheque for me. He signed the cheque and asked me to accompany the Adjutant to CO’s office for his counter-signature. Cheque signed, I thanked the CO for hospitality and bid good bye.

I then hopped into a Jeep driven by a young officer who was visiting Barmer city on some errand. He dropped me at the bank. I was there well-in time before it closed for the day. Manager there was co-operative and I got my Demand Draft ready in 15 minutes flat.

I was in seventh heaven. I had scored a goal and I was going to score more.

            

                             …………..to be continued. (Part 4, Entering Pakistani territory)

 

Chapter 4

To Pakistan with Chief Engineer

I boarded the hopping flight to Jodhpur one more time. It was becoming a routine for me. As I moved towards my seat, I spotted army officers in one of the front rows. A quick glance told me they were Engineers. I just smiled at them and they reciprocated. Once we took off and ‘seat belt’ signs were off, I got up and tried to understand their ranks. One of the officers, it turned out, was a Brigadier.

An hour later, we had landed at Aurangabad. I went up to the officers and introduced myself. Brigadier shook my hand and said he was Chief Engineer, Southern command. I told him my purpose of travel. He asked one of his juniors to swap seat with me and invited me to sit next to him. During our conversation he revealed that he is scheduled to visit the water project (where our storage tanks were deployed). I briefed him about supplies made so far and schedule for coming weeks. He then said he was going from Jodhpur first to Jaisalmer Sector. After that he would be in Barmer area and see me at 278 Engineers. From there he was scheduled to travel to the water project site. He invited me to accompany him to the site. I accepted the invitation whole-heartedly.

His suggestion meant that I would get to travel all the way to the last point up to which Indian forces had intruded in Pakistani territory. I could not believe my luck. I tried not to show my excitement. At our next stop, Udaipur, I shifted to my original seat.   

To-date, the picture of the Chief Engineer is clear in my memory. Brig. I.J.S. Johar - a burly Sikh with no-nonsense appearance but one who could put you at ease with a disarming smile. Decorations on his chest were testimony to his achievements. These amply matched his towering stature. He was known as hard task-master, endowed with a tender heart.

At Jodhpur, the Chief Engineer had disappeared even before I came out of arrival lounge. I got on my way to the railway station. By noon, next day, I was at 278 Engineers. The unit hands were busy with their inspection and approval procedures for the latest arrival of tanks. After handing over some spare parts required by the unit, I got busy chatting with the Adjutant and 2IC. They were aware of the Chief Engineer’s program. They complimented me when I told them about his invitation for joining him on trip to the water project. Later, when I paid a courtesy visit to the CO, he also asked me to be ready and be prepared to answer the queries by the Chief Engineer. A gold-medalist from CME (College of Military Engineering, Pune) he could, with ease, pick holes in technical arguments. He also hinted that it will be a long day tomorrow and that the ride will be rough, unlike anything I might have ever experienced.

All official work taken care of and after quick dinner, I retired to bed. Setting alarm for 6 O’clock in the morning I went to sleep. As a precaution against failing of alarm I also told my orderly to wake me up in case the alarm failed. Next morning, I was ready and waiting outside the CO’s office by 7.30 am. Soon, he arrived and enquired if I was prepared. 2IC joined us in CO’s office. They got on with their pre-departure discussions.

After a short wait, the Chief Engineer arrived with his retinue. Salutes, exchanged, he went into consultations with the CO & 2IC. Half hour later, we started boarding our vehicles. Chief Engineer got into front passenger seat of CO’s Jonga. CO got into driver’s seat. I hopped onto a Jeep driven by feisty Parsee officer Major Jangu Irani. Coming up with his Parsee jokes Jangu had us in splits through the ride.

We moved without wasting time. Two ahead and six behind was the count of military Jeeps in the entourage. All vehicles were manned by officers who were experts in desert driving. I was not privy to the itinerary or the route plan. All I knew was that we were travelling towards Munabao, last town on Indian border. After continuing on the state highway for about 15 minutes, we swerved to the left and hit a dirt track in the desert. Vehicles can’t drive through desert and get bogged down. To facilitate movement of vehicles, and heavy equipment, the Army Engineers create a duck-cart track by laying wooden sleepers on the path. These sleepers are same as on railway tracks and joined by thick metal wires. Ride on these tracks is extremely bumpy. It rattles all the bones in our body. Undeterred by the rough ride, army drivers continue to drive at fast speeds. For an outsider like me it was a test of my physical endurance. A heady mix of youth and pride helped me sail through the grueling journey.

As we progressed, I saw scores of equipment including infantry armor abandoned by Pak soldiers on retreat. Wreckage of planes downed by Indian ‘ack-ack’ guns and fire-arms told the story of their own. World famous Patton Tanks destroyed by Indians littered the surroundings. I had to convince myself that what I was witnessing was not a movie but a reality.   

Monotony of the rough ride was broken by stops on the way. Some places where other regiments were stationed, we stopped. Officers got busy with their meetings and inspections as I waited in their office. Meetings over, we would move to the Officers’ Mess for tea and snacks.

By the time, we were nearing our destination, our stomachs were full. Variety of snacks the army kitchens can turn out in such remote areas was awesome. We then headed for point zero - our destination for the day. A bunch of uniformed persons could be seen in the distance.

We had reached ‘Parchhe ji Veri’. This was the last point, 36 kms inside Pakistani Territory and occupied by Indian Army. It  A railway line passed by the side. It was the one that connected Jodhpur to Hydrabad-Sindh in pre-partition days. Indian army had taken control of the railway-line and the Parchhe ji Veri station. The Water-tanker train used to come up to this point on daily basis.

278 Engineers had created an oasis in the desert by erecting a water station here. It would store and distribute water to all units stationed all over the area. They were now assured of un-interrupted water supply.

As we got closer, my heart started pumping rapidly. Pride, soaked in patriotism was taking over. In front of me was a collage of our water tanks filled to the brim, ready to dispense its content. More pits were kept ready to receive further supplies. Adjacent to the storage area was another under-ground installation. It housed a pumping station with battery of Kirloskar Pumps and Generators. A network of Wavin pipes was laid reaching out to units spread over Barmer & Jaisalmer sectors. It would cater to over 30,000 parched throats of our brave-hearts.   

Chief engineer went around the establishment taking a good look at the feat achieved by his team of Bombay Sappers. Proud moment for them. He enquired from me if the installation of tanks was proper. His next question was if the water stored in plastic will be safe for human consumption. I assured him that only non-toxic PVC was used and it was safe. He pushed the top cover of a tank slightly and dipped his hands inside. He filled water in his palm and drank it. His reaction was “Good! The taste is OK and there is no odor. Guru, I am happy, thank You”. By turns the CO, 2IC and other officers shook my hands and complimented me. 

Standing on Pakistani soil at ‘Parchhe Ji Veri. I had just witnessed history in making. We were almost 36 kms inside Pakistan. Every day, their army must be looking at their Waterloo.

Our return journey was faster with only two stops for tea and refreshments. It was a day of fulfilment. Chief Engineer enquired if I had all my bones intact.

Sights and scenes on way back were a repeat of what we had seen earlier - Story of death and destruction. It was a routine for the armed forces. For me it was a mix of national pride contrasting with sense of futility of wars.  Perhaps it was our Hindu culture that created aversion in our minds for any kind of discord and strife, leave alone wars. But then, there is an internecine conflict even in scriptures. Both our epics of Ramayana & Mahabharat project inevitability of wars; albeit against Adharma.

We hit the base a little late in the evening. Dinner at the Mess was a celebration.

And I had no regrets.

                          

                                 ……….contd Part 5 Going Under-ground

SUPPER WITH SAPPERS

Part 5: Going Under-Ground

 

Our commitment to 278 Engineers was coming to an end. This was my last trip to the base. As usual, I had flown to Jodhpur and boarded a train that took me to Barmer. On the railway station, a small room was allotted to Army for its Telephone Exchange. Army personnel arriving here could establish contact with their respective units and arrange for transport from this cabin. I used to follow the same procedure.

 

As always, I waited for my pick-up from 278. There was enough time before it came. I decided to peep outside. All along, I had never bothered because of darkness and numbing cold outside.

 

This time, it was April end. Summer had begun with bang. Temperatures had reached upwards of 40 degrees and were still climbing up. Since, it was a clear morning, I took a stroll outside. I had left my luggage with the telephone operator who had become my friend by then.

 

Outside, the scene was like in any other small town. On opposite side there was three-storied Kailash Hotel. Several smaller lodges existed on both sides. Series of dhaba style eateries were opening up one by one. I spotted a relatively clean one and took a seat inside. The owner, who seemed to have woken up minutes before gave a smile and said, ‘Padharo Hukum’. I ordered a cup of tea. There were jars of cookies on the owner’s counter. He said, “open the jar and pick up whatever you like.’ I picked one and sat waiting for the tea. Minutes later, he brought piping hot tea to my table. I took a sip. It was nectar. Too sweet but with wonderful fragrance. It was laced with ginger and some other spices. My day was made.

 

Since there was no other customer the owner started small talk. He opened by asking if I was connected with army? He had observed me getting into army vehicles. I had never noticed this guy but he had a sharp eye. People in border areas are on alert all the time. Intelligence is gathered from many sources and these people can provide vital clues. I diverted the talk to the weather. He came up with long discourse on the subject. He said, it appears that this year will be warmer than the previous one. After-all, with Thar Desert in neighborhood, one can only expect heat waves and sand-storms.

 

I closed the chat and went back to the comforts of waiting room at the station. My pick-up arrived and I was on my way to ‘maro desh’ (remembering famous ditty of Rajasthan, ‘Savariya, Padharo Maare Desh’). Traffic on the road to 278, had increased even in the early hours. Reason could have been fading memories of the war or people wanting to start the day early only to ward off the rising temperatures.

 

As we came near the unit, the soldier-driver reduced his speed. Looking at the surroundings, I was baffled. I had come after a month’s gap and was missing familiar sights. I asked the driver, “How come I don’t see any signs of our unit. Has it shifted elsewhere?” He just said, “no sir, it is at the same place”.

I did not see any of the tents though ‘Transport Company was visible but with fewer vehicles. The mystery got solved as I spotted Captain Sohoni. Jumping out I asked, “where is our unit”. He smiled and said, “sab idhar hi hai”. Come, I will take you to the Adjutant.” He took me to an underground bunker nearby. He said, because of acute heat they had shifted underground. We climbed down wooden steps. Below, it was a spacious bunker dug in sand. Piles of sand-bags were placed on all sides to provide structural support. Inside, walls were lined with thick fabric used for tents. Same old desks with type-writers occupied space near bottom of steps. At far end were the bigger ones for the 2IC and Adjutant.

Shaking hands with 2IC, Major Sahani, I expressed my surprise. He laughed and said you should be happy to see the change. I agreed and enquired about other officers. Since it was peace time, many officers were going on leave by rotation.

Meanwhile, our last consignment had arrived. We went through the procedures for inspection/acceptance/bill approval.

This done, I wanted to meet the CO. The Adjutant took me to another underground bunker. I met the CO and said in lighter vein, “Sir, everyone has gone under-ground.” He replied. “Don’t worry. Your room also will be under-ground. And you will like it, once you understand the purpose behind.” We both laughed.

 

I was guided to a bunker that would be my abode for the night. I went down with my orderly and had a look at the interior. But for its location being underground, everything else remained the same. Entrance to the bunker was low and one had to mind the head. At ground level, there was a narrow ditch surrounding the bunker on all sides. The orderly explained that it is meant to keep insects and reptiles away.

 

At 7.00 the orderly took me to the Mess. One more underground retreat, it was. Inside remained the same as in its earlier avatar. I could not locate the kitchen but did not bother. What mattered was that I was back in the company of old friends. Spending time with them mattered because none of us knew when we will meet again. It was lot of fun, those two hours. We even continued even after the CO left.

Ultimately, as we stepped out, I found the scenario outside unusual. Earlier days the silhouette of tents was visible even at night. This time all I could see was flat ground all over. The adjutant cautioned me not to venture out for the fear of getting lost. Earlier while walking from my room to the Mess I had tried to register in my mind the path traversed. I assured the adjutant that I would not venture. But added that just now I can locate my room. He challenged me and asked me to go find it. He said, if in five minutes if I feel I am lost, I must stand still wherever I am and give a shout. Barely two minutes and I accepted defeat. He located me and guided me to my room.

The thought of those two minutes in darkness sends shivers down my spine even today. It was pitch-dark all around and no land-mark to follow. Scary, it was. There have been instances in which a person has walked in desert for miles, totally clueless where he was going, only to get lost to the elements. Playing games with desert can cost your life. It was an important lesson.

Next day after finishing paper-protocols, I picked up my cheque. Then proceeded to the CO thanking him profusely. I followed it up with bidding goodbye to the 2IC, the Adjutant and whichever officer came in sight.

This time, it was Captain Bindra who drove me to Barmer.

Having concluded an important assignment, I had planned to gift myself a visit to the city of Jaisalmer. Instead of taking flight from Jodhpur to Mumbai, I stayed back and took a train to Jaisalmer. I spent better part of next day at Jaisalmer, seeing those exquisitely decorated Havelis. Patwa’s Haveli stands out amongst many others. Most havelis had jharookhas (Balconies) with intricate carvings. Jaisalmer is a very small city with a single street. Most havelis stand on either sides of the main street.  

Jaisalmer is a tribute to the architecture and creativity of bygone era. 

It was a diversion, well worth.

                                       ..............contd Part 6 On to Himalayas