Thank You 17 Punjab Plus a Pakistani Element

Thank You, 17^th Punjab. Dinesh K Kapila

I entered the General ICU at a local reputed hospital just last week to meet my mother. She had collapsed at home due to a diabetic complication and for us it was touch and go till the ambulance got her to the Emergency Wing and subsequently moved her to the General ICU. Thankfully she has recovered quite well and is now recuperating at home now.

But to go back to the General ICU, I saw my mom lying quietly on her bed and walked towards her. This was the second day of her stay. As I bent down to greet her, she smiled, asked about me ( a mother is a mother) and then gestured to the elderly tall lanky Sikh gentleman in the next bed. She said with a sense of familiarity, he is Major Jagtar Singh from 17 Punjab. I moved towards him, so did Major Jagtar Singh, he insisted upon getting up and embracing me. My mother said, my eldest son, and as we embraced, I wished him and said thank you. We had never met, my mother had never met him, but it was as though we knew each other. My father, as I came to know,  had already met him and had a long chat, the Major was from near Bhatinda and was undergoing treatment at the hospital.  The 17^th Punjab Battalion was located nearby only.

Our family owes a real debt to this battalion, years pass on, memories fade, but not for my parents and not for me, being the eldest. We understand their emotions and feelings. In early 1969 Dad as Lt Col was commanding 6/11 GR (Gorkha Rifles) at Ambala and on promotion he was promoted to Brigadier and tasked to command a Mountain Brigade on the active Chinese Border at Sikkim. The 17^th Punjab was one of the battalions comprising the Brigade. He moved to Sikkim while my mother stayed on at our bungalow at Allenby Road so as to avoid interrupting our education. The Brigade we do not clearly remember but it could be the 165^th.  

My father loves the mountains and is passionate about them.  Since he moved to the Indian Military Academy at Dehradun in 1946 from Hoshiarpur in Punjab (my grandfather practised as a lawyer at Lahore and Hoshiarpur), he loved the mountains, this has been lifelong. Well, gung ho, always on the go and self confident in handling mountains and complications, he was visiting his units in 1969 and getting familiar with the terrain regularly.  Maybe he ought to have been taking it easy but then nearing ninety years now, he still does not !.   

In April 1969 he was to visit some pickets of 17 Punjab and before he set out, his long time Batman, Amber Bahadur Gurung, told him politely not to go. In chaste Gorkhali, he submitted my father was tired. As my father decided to go, he insisted on placing a copy of the “Hanuman Chalisa” in my father’s folder. Well, it was a snowy day, it was snowing heavily at 16000 feet, when my father collapsed after inspecting a picket. There was commotion as to the officers and men realised it was the dreaded high altitude sickness, Pulmonary Oedema.  Water or rather fluids leak into the lungs and it is not possible for the lungs to handle it, leading to collapse of the lungs and major complications, sometimes fatal. The only solution is to bring the patient to lower altitude, on priority and as early as possible. Then also it can be a gamble. Here in Sikkim at that time the infrastructure was poor, roads located far away and the path was just a mountain track.  The helicopter could not fly in because of very adverse weather conditions. 

The 17^th Punjab scrambled fast. Three groups were constituted at varied locations. One advance party set out to ascertain the easier and faster path in heavy falling snow and ice on the tracks. The resolve was we are not losing our Commander. They tied my father to a cot, strapped him in and physically four to six men at a time started carrying the cot down. We can only imagine how tough it would have been. But the typical army spirit of not losing a man and not giving in carried them on. After every few hundred feet another team took over, shouting encouragement to him in Punjabi and moving on relentlessly. I can only imagine today the planning put in, the tasks allocated and then executed on a real time basis.  I can only be thankful today, as we have been always.

The rescue parties, with sheer grit and determination, brought him down to around 10000 feet in around four and a half to five hours maximum. This is really swift going while carrying a man strapped on a cot and on a mountain track in snowy conditions. There a jeep was waiting with the unit doctor. His laconic statement was, one lung collapsed, one about to, move him down very very fast.  The men cleared the way, the jeep raced to 8000 feet, that’s when my father felt the urge to relieve himself and the doctor said, you will live Sir, the 17^th Punjab saved you. It’s just in time.

Next day he was airlifted to the Military Hospital at Calcutta from the Base Hospital, where he would spend nearly 75 days recovering. My mother would get to talk to him once a day, that was her lifeline. I forgot to add, my maternal grandfather turned up early morning after the episode, his address was listed in the contact numbers at Army HQ’s. Then the telegrams followed and the ladies of the 6/11 GR rallied around my mother. It would have been very tough on her.

So thank you 17 Punjab. Thank you always. It’s because of them my father would celebrate his 90^th birthday this 26^th September. Thank you Amber Bahadur too.

Tailpiece – I also want to thank the Regiment of Artillery of the Pakistan Army. In 1971 in East Pakistan they traced his vehicle and fired off a series of bursts. His jeep was thrown in the air by the shells. The driver, guard, my father and his GSO3 (A Captain) were thrown all over and were in shock but unharmed. A few more shells fell but all survived. In fact the GSO3 said amidst all the confusion and chaos I feel we lost the Commander but then my father shouted I am on the other side of the road. So for inaccurate firing by the Pakistan Artillery my thanks. 

In 1974 there were floods in the Munawar Tawi, a river in Chamb, J&K. Two jawans were marooned. Returning from another location by helicopter, my father (then a Major General) directed the pilots to rescue them as he was monitoring it on the radio. and with him on board the helicopter they went is past haste for the rescue. They had to stray rather deliberately enter into Pakistani territory to approach the two stranded men from an angle suitable to enable the rescue. It took multiple attempts in bad weather and the observation post was not stable too. Later on his Pakistani counterpart (Division Commander) told him on the radio, my troops had noticed the violation, We knew you were on it, they just wanted my orders to fire, I withheld it. But it will not happen next time. So a thanks here to his wisdom.

PS.   Years later when my father commanded 10 Infantry Division, 17 Punjab was there and some of the men who rescued him were still serving. He had a real celebration with them and introduced my mother to each person and prayed with them too. 

Well, lying in bed recuperating from viral fever, I thought of penning this. 17^th Punjab, all the glory and success to you, I was 8 years old in 1969, my youngest brother 3 years, as my mother says. The Unit gave the rescue it’s all, Major Jagtar Singh is now carrying a letter from my father to the current Commanding Officer conveying his gratitude again.  I asked Major Jagtar Singh, do you remember him, he said it is as if it was yesterday. He was the Intelligence Officer at the unit in 1969 and said your dad’s swagger and self confidence rubbed off on us, plus he remembers the handlebar moustaches !. Across the years we meet, part and move on. But the gratitude is there from all of us.