“I do swear in the name of God that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of India as by the law established and that I will, as in duty bound, honestly and faithfully serve and go wherever ordered by land, sea or air, and that I will observe and obey all commands of the President of the Union of India and the commands of any officer set over me even to the peril of my life.”
With this oath in mind, the teary eyed goodbyes and the hope of returning back home, safe and sound, a soldier goes to defend India's border and the Line of Control. He knows that the hopes and aspirations of a billion-strong nation depends on how well he holds his post, he knows that there is no second place in war, he knows that he has only two options -- to win or die trying to win.
The Indian Armed Forces are among the best in the world. The Indian soldier is a lethal killing machine when ordered to do so, trained to take on whatever the enemy throws at him. What he is not trained for is the long wait before the enemy surfaces. It's like hide and seek: Long duty hours on patrol, where nothing happens, and yet you know that the enemy could be lurking anywhere, waiting for you to let your guard down.
Imagine a life when death could come anytime, in any form. Maybe firing from across the LoC, or a mortar attack, an IED or a terrorist attack. Imagine when your adversary looks and is dressed like the very people you are out to protect. And then imagine casting your fear aside and going about doing your duty with faith in God and of course your buddy.
There are problems at home. There always are. Your parents aren’t well and the nearest hospital is far away from the village. The kid managed to fracture his hand while playing cricket and the gharwali has been running around trying to manage all of this while you’re away.
But these problems can wait. Can’t they? After all, your planned leave is just around the corner. You’ll be home for Diwali and everything will be alright. So you hold your fort, remind yourself of that oath you have taken, and you guard that post like your life depends on it. And it does.
Your only form of entertainment on most days is the radio. Your only source of staying in touch with the people you defend. They seem to be debating about how you must exercise more restraint with someone who is out there to kill you, or how your own country must engage in dialogue with the enemy, and then you remind yourself of that oath again. This freedom of expression is what you’re defending and this is what separates you from the enemy.
Your buddy was hit by a bullet last week, but he couldn’t be airlifted because the weather was bad and there was heavy firing from across the LoC. The weekly ration did not turn up because of the same reason. The unit doctor has decided to amputate his arm. Your faith begins to waiver, you wonder why you’re even there but then you’re reminded of that oath again.
Diwali is just around the corner, you are due to go home for leave on the next Air Force courier and suddenly there’s yet another terrorist attack. Two of your unit mates are martyred in the gunfight. The enemy violates the ceasefire and there’s heavy firing across the LoC. You have to defend your post. You cannot leave your unit now. Not when they need you the most. So with a heavy heart you write home and let them know that you’ll come home some other time, hopefully.
The gunfight goes on for a few days, you are on red alert. Making do with less than four hours of sleep every day and limited ration. Despite, all this, normalcy returns to the Kashmir Valley. It seems the enemy has run out of steam for now. You are able to turn back to that radio to pass the long hours now.
The Government has announced the allowances for the new pay commission on the occasion of Diwali, and yet again, they seem to have forgotten your sacrifice once again. That new bicycle that your son wanted may have to wait, the Diwali celebrations may have to wait, the enemy that wants to get past your post, even he will have to wait until your watch is over.
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