Sleep in Peace; We are on the Borders

Sleep in Peace; We are on the Borders
I am an officer posted on the line of control. Yesterday was Sunday,  and also Dussehra. Got to know it only from the newspapers that are  spread before me- a day late by the time they reach my post. The nice  part is that I receive a whole bundle after they have been pored over  in the headquarters.
 We went out on an ambush last night. There was information that an  infiltration attempt could be made through our area. I have been  receiving the same information daily since the last six months.
 Hopefully we will have a fire fight tonight.
 Seven of us slipped out of our post, 300 m from the line of control,  after last light. A half hour walk and we deployed in two groups. The  weather gods were not happy (maybe because I didn’t know Navratras had  begun). Light rain and mist descended and visibility was down to three  metres. We try and peer through the white haze till the eyes hurt. I  hear a soft snore on my left and give a hard nudge. Tomorrow, over a  hot cup of tea after we return to the post, we will laugh and tease  him.
 It’s midnight, cold and miserable. I flex my index finger to make sure  it slips into the trigger guard in time to shoot the terrorist who  might suddenly appear three steps from me. Suddenly, the chatter of  machine guns jolts us out of complacency. It is followed by the soft  ‘thump, thump’ of mortars ejecting their bombs. I am glad for the  distraction, as the whole ambush is now fully alert.
   We wait for the mortar bombs to fall. Shit… they seem to be falling on  my post. There are mixed feelings running through me. I am safe, but  what about my soldiers on the post. The firing grows in intensity-  rocket launchers and mortars open up from our side. It’s frustrating  because we can’t see anything. I briefly think of returning to the  post but have a job to do tonight, and there are good soldiers back on  the post.
 We return in the morning and thankfully all is well. One splinter injury-flesh wound only, and a living shelter damaged. We all sit  around a breakfast of hot puris and bhindis, exchanging anecdotes,
 feeling proud about how we weathered one more day on the line of  control.
 A three hour nap and the first newspaper is spread before me.  “Dropping guard at the LOC” is the headline of a Mail Today article.  It says ‘Indian troops have been sitting ducks’ in the August incident  and that the foiling of infiltration attempt in Keran ‘has been taken  with a pinch of salt’. Harinder Baweja in Hindustan Times says that  the Army has been ‘found wanting’. Tribune wanted to know ‘how porous  is the security system’ on the LoC. Asian Age informs me that ‘Army is
 under attack from the MoD’. I always thought those attacking us were  across the LoC. Should I now look over my shoulder?
 A large number of journalists are now questioning our tactics along  the Line of Control. It is easy to pass judgment when sitting in  air-conditioned offices and speaking on the telephone to
 ‘well-informed sources’ who have an equally comfortable chair. It is  also unfortunate that some of our retired officers have also jumped on  the media bandwagon to slam our ‘defensive mindset’ and ‘lapses’. Did  no soldiers die when they were commanders? Has the army suddenly  forgotten its ethos because some of our officers have retired?
 Let me not quote facts and figures because I have no access to them.  My senior officers tell me that the security situation in J&K is  improving. Violence, infiltration levels, civilian causalities are
 down, and there is less fear on the faces of people. I believe my  seniors because I see it everyday.
 Can I do more? Maybe I can eke a little more out of my aching muscles  and sleep filled eyes. Will it help? I don’t think so, because the  newspapers will not cover what I do, but look for the one who does  not. I just hope I am not one of their victims.
 I am an Indian Army officer- proud and confident. I know what I have  to do. No other profession in the world demands that you lay down your  life in the defence of people you do not even know. If you question my  commitment, please be prepared to wear the Uniform and man the LoC in
 my place.

-  By An Army Ofiicer 

What Is Army ??

What Is Army ??

Army is:-

When a cold and shivering jawan gets you a cup of hot tea on a patrol break at 13,000 feet.

When your sixth sense tells you there is something wrong with a guy at 50 meters.

When you meet with an accident and the first thing you check is the serviceability of your legs.

When you speak the language of your boys.

When you sit from dusk to dawn in an ambush on Valentine’s Day, you know army is giving you the red rose.

When you are a master at pump stove, lanterns, solar lights, bukharis and travelling in trains without reservations.

When you know more about cramps and cold injuries than your average doctor.

When a girl in the pub is indicated by clock-ray method.

When only your sahayak can dig out the thing you want from your rucksack.

When your pain submits to your will.

When you find it funny when your relative says he’s going on a holiday to a hill station.

When your profession is a matter of discussion during marriage proposals.

When you do not believe in ghosts but do believe in Peer Baba and other high altitude babas.

When you know the real meaning of camouflage, in field, in parties, in unit routine and in your own house.

When you can live, anywhere, with anybody, on anything that nature can offer.

When you know this LMG will be re-sited by everybody up the ladder, till it comes back to where you had sited it initially.

When somebody asks, “Do you play Golf?” and you look at the brass on your shoulder and say “Not yet!”

When you are the biggest consumer of foot powder, DMP oil, water sterilization kit, ORS packets and Meals Ready to Eat in the Army.

When you gave it all that you have got, and some more.

When you are the only one to get trained in bayonet fighting. And expect it to happen.

When your girlfriend thinks you are Rambo, Commando, Gladiator and Braveheart, all rolled into one. Your Commanding Officer, by the way, thinks you are none.

When the Politician and the Bureaucrat state, "what is so special about the ARMY", without realizing that an Army-man can do their job, better then them,  but they cannot do an Army-man's job and it is the the same Army-man who bails them out whenever they fail 

When you get lost in a multiplex with signboards but are at ease in a jungle with a compass.

When you can die for, what you have lived for.

That's the great INDIAN ARMY.....People call it ARMY, We call it LIFE.