Adjutant (self), Kapoor the Commanding Officer and Balwant the Quarter Master.Lungthu with the Chinese just a stone throw away with the battle raging down below with its rarefied air deficient of oxygen its intense cold the bleak landscape its mountain sides denuded of the trees by years of illegal felling by the troops positioned there for cooking and heating, all combined to create an atmosphere totally alien to us dwellers of the plains.
The sensation was particularly strong and overpowering at night with the full moon appearing unusually large, the stars so near shining brightly and the feel of the thin clear air of the night. The stark wilderness bereft of any human or animal being in the near vicinity that late night made one aware of some supernatural power some where very near. That night we were lingering late after the dinner in the mess reluctant to retire to our respective bleak abodes. 123 Mountain ‘Brigade commanded by Brig Balaram was also being launched in the operations in East Pakistan. The CO had gone down to see off the Brigade Signal Company commanded by Capt Sen Gupta with Lt Datta as his 2IC.
He was a worried man when he left for New Mal for more reasons than one. One of his subunits was being launched in operations and the reputation of the regiment depended on how well it performed also early the same morning he was informed that one stengun was missing from the temporary improvised kot at Lungthu. Loss of a weapon is a serious lapse in any army unit with enquiry, punishment, loss of name and reputation all to follow in quick succession. The careers of all those in the loop were also on stake. However since no one was found to be missing from the location we all though worried were confident of recovering the missing weapon.
LUNGTHU Officers Mess, Commanding officer’s Hut, Officers living Area.It was extremely cold outside the mess in the winter of early December at that height but with the hissing `Bukhari' radiating heat it was reasonably comfortable inside. We were trying to keep our morale up somehow or other I was rather subdued in addition to the current crisis I had also learnt earlier through a letter from my father of my mother's demise. The question of leaving the regiment on leave at that critical juncture just did not arise.
Somehow the talk veered towards the supernatural with this another facet of Inder Bhatia’s talents were revealed when he claimed that he could call the dead and speak to them. Hoping to get some clue about the missing stengun Inder’s offer was promptly accepted. Under Bankers instructions a white paper was quickly rolled on the card table the Alphabets and the Numerals (0 to 9) were quickly written on the circumference of the circle drawn on the paper a glass tumbler with a minimum of four pairs of fingers pressing lightly on it was placed on the paper.
The pin-drop silence the hissing of the patromax making it even more pervading the dead of the night the expectation of experiencing some thing totally alien all eyes concentrated on the tumbler resulted in goose-pimples and the hair standing on my arms. Suddenly we got a jolt the tumbler jumped and started moving. With Inder in control and shooting questions the tumbler started jumping from letter to letter and figure to figure with one of us noting down the words and sentences being formed.
Who are you? Inder asked the tumbler moved a few paces and wrote a local name. Which is you village? Was the next question and it fetched the reply Nathang. When did you leave this world? ...silence... Should we inform your family about you? The tumbler quickly moved two places and wrote No. The air in the mess was becoming thicker, the place more eerie with heart beating faster and faster. A strange sort of fear pervaded at least in me although it were not my hands on the tumbler still I was part of the scene. The questions eventually took a turn towards what was on the mind of all of us. You know one stengun is missing? Yes was the answer. There was a sigh of relief all-round with a hope of getting some clue and locating the stengun before CO’s return.
Who has stolen it? Inder shot the question. A Jawan of the unit. The tumbler tapped. What is his name?...silence... We waited with baited breadth a bit disappointed. The questioning then took a different approach. Where is it? He has hidden it, was the answer. How do we find it? the advice tapped out was Search for it and you will find it. It was getting better and better our hopes soaring high. The question Where do we search for it? was answered by a thundering silence with the glass remaining static at one place. How long we have to search before we find it?' To this the tumbler moved and tapping it wrote Three days.
Bingo! We had hit the jackpot, our down in the boots morale shot up. For the next three days an intensive search was the order of the day with the whole regiment pressed in the task. Nothing was left unturned down the valley up the hillside the men moved like a heard of goats turning and upturning every stone and beating every bush in their path. The major suspects were kept under sustained and constant interrogation but with no results. Every one officers JCOs and the ORs alike were getting sick and tired of this unending trial the morale sinking with each passing day and the sten remaining as elusive as in the beginning. I will come about the result of the search a bit later. With the gloom lifting a bit the line of question took another turn.
What losses has Pakistan suffered? Two Ships. was the quick answer. What about the Indian losses? Inder asked a bit tentatively and we waited this time with baited breadth. One Ship, was the tapped answer. The information about our loss did not do much to lift our spirits. At that instance we had no inkling of the fact that we had lost `Khukri', in Arabian Sea, near Karachi also the fact that Pakistan had lost the destroyer `Ghazi’ and the minesweeper `Muhafiz' both patrolling outside Karachi harbour by Indian Naval missile attack on Karachi harbour. All this got confirmed through AIR news on the mess Radio the next morning.
The questioning but had to take the obvious turn next with both Banker and me due for a look by the Selection Board. The prediction was that both of us would make it. Highly strung and wondering about the strange phenomenon we exited slowly the mess to move to our cold beds to chase the elusive sleep till late in the night.
The CO returned the evening previous to the stipulated three days sadly we had no good news to give him and we were getting mentally prepared to inform the Div HQ officially about the loss the next day. As it happened the prediction by the 'Oracle of Nathang' came true. The driver of the CO's Jonga found the Sten the next day morning. What had happened that when he reported for duty early the next morning and pressed the starter of the Jonga the battery appeared to be discharged and totally dead. Removing the seat of the Jonga to check the battery he found it to be disconnected and with Sten lying on the car battery top.
What a relief it was for every one even for the Div HQ Staff who were in the know having been earlier apprised informally of the loss. Was it a gift to the CO, a prank a mischief or a deliberate criminal act by some one we could never find out. I do not believe in the supernatural yet there must be some truth in what I saw and heard that lonely night high up at Lungthu in Sikkim. It made me think possibly past events can be recalled but not that in future with the same accuracy since contrary to the prediction unfortunately Banker did not make it to the next rank..
16th December 1971 was a day to remember in more ways than one. The daybreak came not with bright sunshine but with a severe storm raging in its full fury it was more like a tornado with the corrugated tin sheets from various structures around getting uprooted by the force of the wind from their moorings and flying around like unguided missiles. Coming out of my room I was buffeted by the strong gusts of the wind crouching low and struggling against the wind force I slowly made my way to the mess for breakfast. The mess however was in a mess with soot every where. No breakfast could be served that morning as the strong gusts of wind flowing in and out of the kitchen made it impossible to light the stove.
Down below in the plains of the then East Pakistan birth of Bangla Desh had taken place and the post delivery calm prevailing. It was all quiet once again after days, months and years of killings of the locals prolonged fighting by the Mukti Bahini and a short fight with Indian forces when the Pakistan Army 90000 odd had surrendered to Indian Armed forces.
I had gone to Gaya, to visit the Brigade Signal Company located there and happened to visit the POW camp commanded by Lt Col Tiawthia of Signals. I felt extremely sad to see the Pakistani young officers confined behind the barbed wire fence.
Brig Lakshman Singh, VSM (Retd)
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