Duty even after death:
In military history, there lies a tale of valor and mystery that unfolded in the hallowed grounds of Chawinda. Allow me, Second Lieutenant Saad, to recount this harrowing true story, where the dead defend Chawinda.
In the autumn of 2017, our unit was deployed to Sialkot, in September, we found ourselves embarked on a 20-day field exercise in Chawinda. Tasked with leading the way, two senior officers and I spearheaded the convoy, transporting half of our unit's tanks to this strategic location, ensuring the fortification of defensive positions.
As the morning sun greeted us, we arrived in Chawinda, a mere 20 kilometers from Sialkot. It was my inaugural visit to this storied place, and my foremost duty was to inspect the bunkers and trenches. While the bunkers proved to be in commendable condition, the trenches beckoned for maintenance, having suffered damage from recent heavy rains. I promptly ordered the troops to repair and widen these vital defenses, with a future plan to reinforce them with cement.
During the course of this trench refurbishment, our soldiers stumbled upon a disconcerting discovery. Amongst the hallowed earth, they came across the lifeless body of a fellow soldier. Strangely, despite the bodies pristine appearance, the uniform it donned seemed to be from a bygone era, likely dating back to the 1960s. Memories flooded my mind of tales my mother had shared, recounting how the bodies of martyrs possessed an enduring freshness. Thus, I surmised that this fallen comrade must have been a martyr, potentially from the 1965 war, when Indian forces infiltrated Chawinda, igniting the colossal tank-on-tank battle, unrivaled since the halcyon days of World War II.
With a sense of duty and respect, I instructed my troops to inform our superiors of this strange finding, urging them to dispatch the body to HQ for identification and a dignified burial.
As night descended upon us, enveloping the landscape in an inky shroud, Captain Nouman and I reclined at the rear of our Armor Personnel Carrier, deep in conversation. Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by an heavy sound—footsteps on the roof of our vehicle. Alert and vigilant, we jolted upright, our attention momentarily diverted, anticipating an update from Sialkot. Yet, after that initial disturbance, an uncanny silence befell us. Even the crickets, once singing their nocturnal melodies, fell silent. A chill permeated the air, accentuating the foreboding aura that enveloped us.
Intrigued by this strange occurrence, I swiftly unlatched my hatch and peered outside, only to find an empty expanse. Ascending to the roof, I queried our driver, whose hatch was already open, if he had witnessed anything. His response came in a tremulous tone, "Sir, someone ascended our APC, touched my head, and vanished toward the east with astonishing speed." Fear gave way to concern; a remote area, our equipment being tampered with—such events were far from desirable. Without delay, I relayed orders over the radio, instructing everyone to secure their tanks and vehicles from within. Armed with our NVGs (Night Vision Goggles) and AK-47s, Captain Nuaman and I ventured forth to investigate, heading east toward the bunkers and trenches.
As we approached the trenches, a sentinel figure materialized before us, steadfastly guarding his post. In a uniform reminiscent of the 1960s, he stood motionless, his gaze fixed upon the Indian side, gripping his machine gun with resolute determination. I maneuvered to the left, endeavoring to discern his identity and what he was up to but before I could see anything captain nauman yelled at him for identification after which the unnamed soldier duct back into the trench. As I approached the trench and lighten it up with my torch it was To my astonishment, he vanished into thin air, leaving us in confusion. Overwhelmed by a disquieting sensation, as if unseen eyes were upon us, I whispered to Captain Numan that it was time to retreat. In solemn silence, we retraced our steps, back to the safety of our comrades. We made a collective decision to withhold this unsettling encounter, ensuring the undisturbed focus on the upcoming exercise.
Dawn broke upon the horizon, heralding the arrival of our unit. The ensuing exercise unfolded seamlessly, devoid of any peculiar activities. The enigmatic events of that fateful night remained confined to our thoughts, forever etched in our memories. To this day, I ponder upon that steadfast soldier, unyielding in death, standing resolute within the confines of his trench, a testament to unwavering duty.
In memory of the valiant souls who defend Chawinda, even beyond the realm of the living.