They say the Indian Army – and to a great extent even the British Army – would cease to be the forces they are if all the Gorkhas in their ranks were to be removed. Brave, loyal and fearless, Gorkhas are soldiers every nation would trust their security with. Their roots go to the town of Gorkha, a historical and quaintly attractive town between Pokhara and Kathmandu.

Almost every young Gorkha aspires to get into the Armed Forces. I was told the British Army still recruits Gorkhas – and there is fierce competition to get through to be assured of a relatively well paid even though risky career and British citizenship. And then you have the Indian Army for those who don’t make the grade. A Gorkha I met working in a hotel in Kathmandu told me he had failed to get through to the Army – and is trying to be a cop now. A Gorkha loves to be in uniform I guess.

My stop during the Great Himalayan Drive was just one day – but pity it was raining too hard to look around. I did brave a slushy, 4 km winding stretch to the old Darbar – having to use the 4-wheel feature in my SUV – but the rain was too hard and I was not wearing water resistant clothes either.

Disappointed, I figured a trip to the museum would serve as a consolation – only to be told it is closed Tuesdays. Darn luck! Aren’t museums all over the world closed on Mondays? Was left with no choice but to hit the road to Kathmandu – with a promise to myself that I would be back.

The World War II Cemetery in Kohima, Nagaland

During World War II, the Japanese had overrun Burma and were advancing into India when British forces, ably assisted by Naga troops, finally forced them to retreat at Kohima. The site of one of the war’s bloodiest battles, Garrison Hill in April 1944, now has a War Cemetery with 2,337 graves and memorials to the soldiers who laid down their lives. It is a moving experience just walking there, reading the tombstones.

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The battle of Kohima was fought between the 31st Japanese Division under General Sato and the British 2nd Division under the command of General Slim’s 14th Army. Approximately 13,000 Japanese soldiers battled against a 9,000 strong opposition; roughly 3,000 Japanese and 4,000 British casualties were counted at the end of it.

Many of these casualties were Nagas (mostly belonging to the Angami tribe) but there are no statistics for them. The only Naga grave at the cemetery is that of 21 year old Saliezhu Angami; the inscription on his grave reads, “The big-minded warring youngest son of mine shall arise and shine like a star.”

The youngest known casualty of the war, 16 year old Ghulam Muhammad of the 2nd Punjab Regiment, also lies buried here.

Also visit the War Museum in Kisama to learn more about the events. As also Kohima’s impressive Catholic Cathedral, which the families and friends of deceased Japanese soldiers partly funded when they learned that the congregation prays for the fallen of both sides.

India would have managed to get even territory from Pakistan during the 1971 war with its neighbour had Colonel Chewang Rinchen not taken a break to celebrate Losar, the Tibetan New Year according to an Army officer I met at the Siachen Glacier.

A hero for all of Ladakh, Col Rinchen has been a recipient of the Mahaveer Chakra, one of the highest honours for bravery in India. Not once, but twice including being the youngest ever recipient of the same at the age of 17. According to Army records:

“During the 1971 war, he led his ‘Dhal’ (shield) Force against the Pakistanis in Baltistan. His unorthodox technique based on guerilla warfare resulted in the recapture of Turtok and the creation of what is the Line of Control (LoC).”

For a 70 kilometer stretch, one still sees Pakistani bunkers all intact abandoned as they retreated according to the officer I met. Suddenly Col Rinchen decided to stop for Losar and lost all the momentum. What he had achieved was still no mean task – this was when he earned his second Mahaveer Chakra.

The records further state: “He earned the first one during the 1947-48 Indo Pak war soon after the two countries gained independence. Along with a band of 28 volunteers, he successfully blocked the advance of Pakistani raiders to Leh for one month and 23 days.

Born on November 11, 1931 is Sumur in Nubra Valley of Ladakh, he joined the Nubra Guards when he was only 17. His brave deeds continued during the 1962 war with China in the Dera Baba Oldie sector; he was awarded the Sena Medal for this. During the 1965 war with Pakistan, he provided vital information regarding the deployment of enemy forces to Col Kapur, Commander of the Nubra sector, and led some very aggressive patrols on the most difficult routes to reach enemy locations and take them by surprise.”

In his memory, the Corps Lecture Hall near the Leh Airport was renamed Rinchen Auditorium in 2008 according to a news report.

The snout of the Siachen Glacier

It may seem unfair to have a war zone like the Siachen Glacier in Ladakh. Both Pakistan and India spend hundreds of millions dollars every year and lose any number of lives facing off for what may seem like an inconsequential mass of ice. But then who said conflicts are about fairness and being reasonable?

When a place is as well known as Siachen, especially for reasons of war, you approach it with mixed expectations. How does a zone always in a state of battle preparedness look like? What is the body language and state of mind of soldiers in these situations? What do they make of civilians out on a ‘picnic,’ even if they are guests of a senior colleague?

Under normal circumstances, one is not allowed within about fifty kilometers of this area unless you have Army clearance. The region had seen little or no exchange of fire over the past couple of years – I may not have been able to make a visit had it been otherwise.

My car stuck in the sand

My SUV met with a little casualty though as I negotiated the sandy area to get close to the glacier – it got stuck in the sand. An Army vehicle had to be called in to pull it out, but not before my brakes went into free play. Fortunately the mechanics were able to fix it, or I would have been in big trouble to get my car back to Leh in this condition to a workshop. A little later in the afternoon, the sole of my old running shoes came off and I had an embarrassing time dragging my foot around over lunch in the Mess.

A sign indicating the original position of the snout

When I did get to the glacier, it seemed a bit of an anti-climax. For one, the snout (where it begins) looked like made of black ice and not white – it was moraine, created by an accumulation of soil and rock with the ice. And there was not much one could see of the glacier: it turned away behind the mountain slopes where another 70 kilometer of its length lies. A river originating at the snout has its water dark grey in colour, and was merrily taking ice boulders in its flow. Global warming is causing the glacier to recede, and signs show where the snout had once been – it has already gone back a kilometer.

Soldiers are posted on the glacier at altitudes of around 12,000 feet at the snout going up to nearly 19,000 feet. They are sent up for 90 days at a time. Supplies are sent to them by helicopter at a cost of Rs. 70,000 ($1,400) for a load of 6o kilos. In other words, rice costing Rs. 70 a kilo costs nearly Rs. 1,000 a kilo to deliver – when it is dropped at the right place. Deaths and frostbites are common in the conditions on the glacier – but fortunately, no one had lost a limb in the last nearly three years from the time I visited.

Talking about flying costs, when troops have to be transported by air it costs an Army plane Rs. 18,00,000 to Delhi from Ladakh. But the Army often charters private planes who do it for only Rs. 7,00,000.

The other much awaited sight was that of the infamous Bofors gun at the base camp. It shot to fame way in the 1980s not for winning any wars, but for bringing down the Rajiv Gandhi government when he was accused of taking commissions from its Swedish manufacturers. It seemed a simple contraption, but the Army swears by its effectiveness, politics apart.

Talking of politics, I met an Army officer on another occasion who could not help abusing the President of India, Pratibha Patil. Although the President holds no real powers constitutionally unless faced with exceptional circumstances, this extends to being the Supreme Commander of all defence forces in India. Few knew of the existence of this political lightweight till the Congress led Government decided to ‘discover’ her and elect her to this position. The country was shocked at this choice, especially since the outgoing President was no less a personality than Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam. This officer I was talking to could not conceal his disgust as having to salute this President.

My visit also coincided with the farewell party of the outgoing Commanding Officer of Siachen. It took place in the Officers Mess, located in a bunker below ground level. As long as the guns were silent, the mood was a happy one. It got enlivened further as the officers got a chance to meet the fairer sex: some of our group invited to Siachen were ladies. The incoming CO could not help remarking that it is a rare occasion for them to see any women – especially beautiful ones – at this all boys club. Everyone raised a toast to this comment.

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Everything in Ladakh is a world record. At least when it comes to altitudes. And the Army does not want to be left behind on this. They claim to have the world’s highest transit camp at Pang – at 15,640 feet above sea level.

Located between Sarchu and Leh, this camp has been set up as a stop for the armed forces who take this route between the areas bordering Pakistan and China and the rest of the country. I would have passed it by as just one more transit camp on this route, its lofty coordinates notwithstanding, but I was sick. Very sick.

The altitude and the cold had hit me the previous day when I broke journey at Sarchu, and things were only getting worse. I was drowsy like when down with a viral fever, and would stop the car every few kilometers to take a nap. Breakfast had long been hurled out, and there was a reasonable possibility I might not be able to complete my journey to Leh. Trust me when I say this: when you suffer from altitude sickness, the last thing you want is to camp out in the freezing cold of the Ladakhi heights.

Fortunately, the Army is willing to come to your rescue in these situations. Seeing the “First Aid Available Here’ sign outside, I went in to the camp and was directed to the resident doctor who patiently noted the symptoms I was suffering from. He seemed familiar with it all: civilians had nowhere else to go but here as was evident in the register they all had to enter their names in to be treated. And the staff was more than willing to help. Two rounds of oxygen, a few medical pills and lots of warm water were served to get me in better shape again. The treatment room was really warm and cozy – more so by a fire burning for the oxygen machine. Don’t ask me how it works. I could just have gone off to sleep here for the next 24 hours after the horrific time at Sarchu the night before.

All I got was one hour, and then asked to be on my way. With a stern warning that I should be drinking lots of warm water. I had brought this condition upon myself by not taking in enough fluids over the last 24 hours – it was clear from the colour of my tongue. The doctor told me water was the only prevention and cure – medicines would only handle 10 percent of the problem. And I was told to stay in my car all the way to Leh – the chilly winds hitting the head aggravate matters too. (I did hop off at TaglangLa Pass for some quick pics and a pitstop)

At the end of it all, the doctor smiled and said his service ended there, and was there anything else that he could do for me? I could only thank him, reassured life was good again.

The roadside eating joint at Pang where I got the water heated for the rest of the journey

And how did I get myself warm water? A roadside eating joint across the road from the camp warmed the bottles of water I was carrying, and these stayed at least lukewarm for a few hours. And guess what? I was feeling perfectly normal within a few hours, and stayed that way for the next three weeks in Ladakh.

I had made a mental note of the name of the doctor who cured but it slipped my mind later. But a big thanks to him.

The agricultural produce in Nubra Valley is clearly not enough for economic sustainability

If you thought the Army’s job was only to defend the country’s borders, think again. They have also been entrusted with the responsibility of boosting local economies in rural areas along the international borders, especially conflict zones.

On a visit to Siachen Glacier, a strategically important base for the Indian Army on the border with Pakistan, in the Nubra Valley, the Commanding Officer (CO) who was showing me around told me ways in which the Army was promoting entrepreneurship in the area. Even though many parts of the region look green, agriculture was just enough to feed the locals but is not a commercially sustainable activity. They even have apple trees bearing fruit, but they lose out to farmers who do not have to transport their produce over such long distances to the paying markets.

The Army lends a hand by buying local produce instead of relying on supplies coming from far. For their transport needs, for which their own vehicles are never sufficient, they hire vehicles from locals. Assured of business from the Army, villagers feel confident about breaking even on their investments within a reasonable amount of time.

Clearly, tourism is the surest way for locals to have a regular source of income. Running their cars as taxis is quite lucrative, and a safe investment knowing the Army will send assured business their ways. The SUVs can earn them Rs. 2,000 (US$ 45) a day – a handsome sum in these parts even if they get business only 4-5 months a year. The locals are also being trained to start home stays for tourists, and this includes helping them build amenities like modern toilets, teaching them housekeeping skills and telling them how to prepare and serve decent meals. While there were no signs yet of quality home stays, it may just be a matter of time before the offerings move up the value curve. The backpackers are happy though, with access to cheap but basic home stays.

Not all efforts pay off though according to the CO. For example, he showed me a greenhouse near the hotel I was staying at: the Army had built it for growing plants under controlled conditions, but no one seemed interested in using it.

For the Army, such development and relationship building also means they can count on the support of the locals especially when India and its neighbours engage in battle – and these can be triggered off at the slightest provocation lasting from a few minutes to many months. To use a political cliché, winning the hearts and minds of the local population may be as important to winning wars and training and equipment.