Sunil Pokhriyal
As a third generation soldier, joining the Indian Army was never one of the many career choices I had – it was my first and only choice. The call of duty, the pride of the uniform and the zeal to serve the motherland, were always the biggest passion and inspiration for me.
I grew up in the cantonment areas, listening to tales of valour and sacrifice from my grandfather, father and uncle. I was fortunate enough to get selected for my dream unit – the elite Para Special Forces, which specialises in covert, high-risk operations. The recent blockbuster Uri – the Surgical Strike, portrayed the caliber of the Special Forces very well.
In my 28 years of service, I’ve had the honour of serving in almost all the forward operational bases of India, right from Siachen Glacier, Ladakh, Jammu and Kashmir to Punjab, Uttarakhand and even the North-East frontiers.
Life in the high-altitude Siachen Glaciers had two main obstacles – the enemy country and the hostile terrain and weather. Back in 1992, I was commanding a post of about 10-15 people at North Siachen, located at a formidable 21,000 feet. We used to have heavy artillery shelling from the nearby enemy camp every day. The weather was extreme, -10 to -20 degrees, with thick snow all around. Oxygen levels and visibility were very poor and communication with the outside world was zero, barring the short duty messages delivered by the army wireless sets. How eagerly we used to wait for the Cheetah helicopters to bring in our weekly essential supplies! And MAIL from our loved ones! But sometimes, due to bad weather conditions, the aircrafts couldn’t arrive and we had to survive on whatever leftover provisions we had! Frostbites and chilblains were another constant threat – if neglected, we could run the risk of losing our fingers and toes! Meanwhile, the attacks continued and finally we decided to take the enemy head on. We had to carry out heavy and accurate firing combined with physical assault from the steep slopes, destroy their camp and climb back to safety, all in the dead of night. One wrong move and we all could lose our lives! I myself managed to neutralise quite a few men but in the bargain, got hit by artillery shrapnel. I was bleeding badly and soon lost consciousness. That night I had my closest brush with death – for 7-8 hours we were not sure if we would make it back alive! For this operation, I was awarded the prestigious Sena Medal.
On the personal front, I’ve had long periods of separation from my family. I’ve missed important milestones of my sons when they were growing up. But thanks to my ever supportive wife Sangeeta, the home front was always well looked after. Post my voluntary retirement in 2016, I’ve been leading select civilian groups on challenging, high-altitude trekking expeditions, including the Annapurna and Everest base camps in Nepal and places in the Siachen which are out of bounds for civilians.
At the end of the day, it’s not the rank or the medals but the scars on our body that serve as our badge of honour. We are blessed with nerves of steel and hearts of gold, thanks to our daily trial by fire, while on duty. As people rightly say, the josh and jazbaa of Indian soldiers are unparalleled and always high! Jai Hind!!
