Hazards that define operational duty

Lt Gen Raj Kadyan (Retd)

MILITARY service has hazards aplenty, more so in the context of perpetual operational deployment along the long and active land borders.

After completion of raising, our battalion was moved in May 1963 to Kupwara in north Kashmir. Therefrom, we moved to Ladakh in August 1964. I fell victim to pulmonary oedema, was evacuated, and placed in a low medical category for a year, not allowed to serve in high altitudes.

The battalion moved in July 1966 to the Rajouri sector — the third field deployment in succession. I re-joined them within two weeks of their arrival there.

We were holding a string of posts along the ceasefire line (CFL). In the aftermath of the 1965 war, the situation was highly volatile. Exchange of fire was frequent.

I took over ‘A’ Company that was holding three posts, all of which were assigned numbers. The Company Headquarters (HQ), along with one platoon, occupied the highest hill in the area. Some 600 yards to the west across a depression — a ‘saddle’ in military terms — was platoon post No. 637. This was within hearing distance of the Pakistani post opposite. The third platoon post was some 1,500 yards to the south.

After briefing at the Battalion HQ, I made the three-hour climb to the post. Having commanded the same Company earlier, I already knew the men.

My predecessor, an Emergency Commissioned officer, was going on release. The next day he was ceremonially ‘lunched’ out and all officers were called down to the Battalion HQ location. By the time I returned to the post, it was past dusk. It had been a near five-hour walk down and up the hill.

Around 1:30 am, I was woken up by loud thumping at my bunker door. The night sentry excitedly told me that post 637 was under attack. The night was pitch-dark with incessant thunder and lightning. Not hearing any firing, I asked the sentry if he could not have been misled by the thunder, but he appeared certain.

I contacted 637 on the field telephone. There indeed had been firing and the Platoon Commander, Subedar Vijay Singh, having alerted the post, was going around to investigate.

Vijay Singh called back to break the sad news. Rifleman (Rfn) Kishore Singh, suffering from a bout of upset bowels, had crossed over the perimeter wall and gone out in the bushy area, without informing the sentry. When he got up, there was a lightning flash and the sentry spotted him fleetingly. As the sentry later revealed, every bush appeared to be a human being and he perceived an attack was being launched. He fired a long burst fatally wounding Kishore Singh.

I woke up the Commanding Officer and apprised him of the mishap. “You have unfortunately started with a mishap,” he said reassuringly, “But don’t let this overly dishearten you.”

I decided to visit 637. Being new in the area, and after the firing, the men would be tense. I took a small party, carried a lantern, and announced our arrival from a distance.

I visited the spot where Kishore Singh had fallen. I asked for the body to be covered with a rain cape and deputed a guard for it. The body was not to be moved till an inquiry was completed.

The platoon had three sentry posts. Ideally, night sentries should be in pairs but considering the manpower constraints, and other commitments like patrolling, this is not always feasible. There is usually a system of internal perimeter patrol that regularly connects with the sentries.

The inquiry found the death to be accidental and no one was blamed. Unfortunately, Kishore Singh had decided to go outside the perimeter without informing the sentry.

The sentry, Rfn Dharam Pal, had less than two years of service. His light machine gun was mounted in the loophole facing west. On seeing movement on the left side, he lifted the gun, placed it in the southern loophole, and fired. Those who have experienced such situations would know that one requires steely nerves to do what he did. Dharam Pal took that split-second decision to open fire, which the inquiry found to be operationally correct. Considering the prevailing tense situation, he did what a sentry ought to do. Taking a chance could prove disastrous. The platoon also showed good fire discipline in that, even being new in the area, there was no panic firing in blind confusion.

The unfortunate mishap put us on high alert. We evolved a strict routine. Sentries were deployed in pairs, even though it meant extra workload. Regular ‘stand-to’ (where all personnel occupy their trenches or bunkers in a rehearsal of operational role) every sunup and sundown became a routine. In addition, surprise night ‘stand-to’ was ordered frequently. Night counter-infiltration patrolling on either flank was implemented, with the Company Commander himself going on night patrol once a week.

The men soon put the unhappy accident behind them and we were able to do our assigned task successfully and effectively.