Hoping after you have read this there won’t be a soldier who is “unknown”, you promise not to let yourself be prejudiced but to let yourself be in awe of his might and his march and be gracious to acknowledge “his love for your life”.
This ones another of my published work from "The Viewspaper". If I were to ever write an autobiography, this would go in too!! Reproducing the content for you to read and "Sincerely" hoping it makes the difference I want it to.
http://theviewspaper.net/an-ode-to-the-hero-in-olive-greens/ by Shubhani Pathak

He Is In Love With Your Life!

“I am the Unknown Soldier

And maybe I died in vain,

But if I were alive and my country called,

I’d do it all over again.”

                                     Billy Rose.

One of my fondest memories is of my “maiden voyage” on an airplane as a young soldier. I laugh when I think of the experience now, and every time I narrate this story the audience cracks up in splits.

But each time I am left thinking, for a very long time. I hope my desperate attempt here leaves you pondering and makes an iota of a difference to the way you look at the “Men in Uniform” the next time.

The choice of the incident has been deliberate, after all who has the time to read about the mundane, so after you have had a hearty laugh, let your heart do the thinking for you and lead you into believing, for the rest of your lifetime, that the unsung heroes deserve your respect.

For various reasons the orders of my last minute “posting” (as we call it in the army) came almost two days before the date of joining at the new location, so I had no time to get my facts right. It’s been 12 long years, but the memories are still crystal clear. The news of getting to move to Leh-Ladakh brought with it the hope of being treated to wide, bright smiles and folded hands of a couple of breathtakingly beautiful flight attendants. Well, the airport greeted me with a sight of a huge Indian Air Force aircraft that looked like a “mommie” eagle but I couldn’t spot any stewardesses at all.

The tarmac did have a lady scurrying past to and fro, very busy on her Motorola set, dressed in combats and doing wonders at managing a 200 plus crowd of young soldiers. She was certainly not related in any way to my picture of an enchanting flight attendant, no, not even remotely related. On the contrary she was a perfect picture of a commander in full control of an eager mob ready to rush into the “Fauji” (army) aircraft.

Authoritative, crisp, loud and stoic. Amazingly attractive and charming in a totally different way. The aircraft, well, an experience in itself.

We were all “loaded” in it along with a herd of de-skinned goats and a seemingly large flock of poultry, not to mention tons of desiccated onions, tinned tuna and the rest of the ration with an obvious stench; so strong.

The aircraft had no windows to offer any of the picturesque views I had dreamed of and the seats were more of metal planks plunked along the length of the plane, on either sides with the middle area carrying our luggage  “with us”, the goat herd, the poultry flock, the vegetables, and believe it or not, soldiers comfortably perched, wherever they could and to top of it all, just elated at being air lifted.

So much harmony, nobody seemed to be minding anyone or anything at all. Quite a sight, trust me. A sight?

Well, yes but it did not end here, you ought to have  “heard” the mighty plane as it waded its way through making 50 different noises, each different from the other and varying from squeaks to thuds and screeches that sounded nothing less than an impending crash to me. With no view of the outside I had no idea of whether I was going up in a tizzy or going down into a freefall. It was all left to my imagination. If one can talk of being nearest to God ever, probably, this was my moment!!

I wonder what I have left you thinking till now. Leh- Ladakh which is cut off for most part of the year from the rest of the world has only these airplanes to lift you into and out of the valley.

I am sure you have heard of jokes where a groom failed to reach “just in time” for his own wedding, well, you will find plenty here. The best part being that you will find the soldier laugh it off like every other hardship that the forces throw in his way.

In my initial days I would often, hear people identify the type of aircraft approaching the runway, even before they could see it. It was the characteristic rumble and echoes of the noise it would create to reverberate in the otherwise silent countryside that gave away the identity. It took you a little while to realize how all of this becomes a part of you while being in a land where, this is your only hope of going back home and being able to cuddle next to your loved ones.

It was overwhelming to see soldiers “wait” for the “mommie” eagle to come and take them under her wings. Overwhelming to see the soldiers wanting to clear up the runway with whatever they could, sometimes even their bare hands, totally out of their own free will, just to let her land.

I guess I stopped counting how many times I wanted to do it myself only to be able to go home and see my family. It didn’t take me long before I had learnt to identify the aircraft from its noises, yes, well in time before my very first chutti (leave). What is heartening and far more than just heartening is to see the forever happy faces, always lit up, no matter what lay ahead of them.

This was a live tutorial on how the forces had made them winners for a lifetime, against any odd, in fact against all odds. Why just them, the forces had made winners out of the families they leave behind, to not just be able to fend for themselves, but to do it with an undeterred pride that they take in the uniform that their loved one adorns while he/she chose to safeguard the interest of his/her country selflessly and tirelessly. It was in this flight that I saw these men elated to be “loaded” into a sturdy piece of metal that helped them get to their destinations, as against so many of us who complain of crammed seats in an economy class of the low fare airline.

While so many of us are so busy filling coffers that we “forget” hugging our little bundle of joy, it was here I saw this man who held on to the memories of a hug his little treasure had given him may be a quarter of a year back and hang onto them till the same piece of engineering and machinery would fly him out of this far off land, back to his wonder child again.

It was here that I saw a man who even in this era kept a letter from home neatly folded in his pocket because he had no way to speak to his lovely wife till wee hours in the night. And this man I saw here, on this flight, was happy, still happy, way beyond the grasp of all the limitations. He was HAPPY, to be serving the nation, to be serving you and me!

After the narration was over, and most of the times interrupting me well in between, most people would say “Is this how the Forces treat you?” And if this is what your thoughts are echoing too, you have let the story mislead you. What you have not been able to see is the indefatigable spirit and  encouraging confidence in emerging as a winner no matter what, ingrained and etched deep by the very forces in these young men, transforming them from being boys to Men of valor.

This is my story of a flight that let me have my first sneak peek into the life and psyche of the Hero in Olive greens. The story of knowing why he is THE HERO and the only living superhero, invincible, undefeatable and very precious to the nation, to you, to me. It is he who stands guard, vigilant on the borders and it is him and him alone who makes these borders impermeable and impenetrable.

I had been the gallant soldier’s daughter all my life, and had been seeing the forces so closely for so many years, however the true awakening only came when I became a part of it myself. From this first incident post donning the greens to an unforgettable unmatched Odyssey through the years that followed, there were innumerable experiences that only enriched and strengthened my faith in the heroes. They led me into believing there was nothing that was unconquerable for them and that they willed to do it, knowing still how ungrateful the beneficiaries have been. The beneficiaries my friend are no one but some of us out there. We argue, we reason and it is very sad and it hurts.

You might say that this life is a choice he/she has made, and from you I wish to know how many of us today are willing to make this choice?

How many of us would move undeterred  and not be even slightly scared to move forwards knowing that we might be staring into the face of our “own death” and still fight it down to the last bullet and that too with our own bare hands and come out a victor on the other side.

This is his life, every single day. It’s time to be grateful to a patriotic fanatic, perpetually eager to stare at danger and uncertainty right into its face, and all this “for you”. You are right that just about everybody is doing their bit towards the rise of Incredible India but how many of us would graciously face death for an ungrateful lot and be forgotten by that someone once he is a fallen soldier?

Now that is what being a soldier is all about. We have amongst us old wrinkled moms and grief struck dads who lost their sons and daughters forever, for our gain. So, next time you want to belittle “THE” sacrifice let your conscience do all the weighing for you and let your heart do all the thinking for you.

This is an acknowledgement and a salute to the ones donning the uniform, for being ever ready to valiantly give their today for my today, for my tomorrow and to the parents, wives and children of all these men for being equally brave, as our Heroes.

Hoping after you have read this there won’t be a soldier who is “unknown”, you promise not to let yourself be prejudiced but to let yourself be in awe of his might and his march and be gracious to acknowledge “his love for your life”.

Shubhani Pathak