The Wolf Pack – Chapter Four

ki Jai”, each man responded.

My radio set crackled. I stopped running. I was panting badly with sweat streaming down my face.

“Hi Gary Sir”, it was Varun on the radio.

A cold wave of helplessness gripped me. Why was Varun not using RT (radio telephony) procedure, the laid down procedure for speaking on radio? What was wrong?

“Golf Alpha for Victor Bravo, do you…..?” I asked.

“Gary Sir, it was an honor to serve with you,” Varun said, cutting me short.

“Varun….Varun”….I screamed into the radio set. No response.

I could see Bravo Company troops surrounding a wooden house about half a kilometer away.

I started sprinting towards the house. Now there was no holding back.

Varun crawled to the entrance of the house, his team of three volunteers following at a spacing of 5 feet. As he reached the main door, he gave the hand signal to stop. The team froze.

Varun got up to a half-crouch and stepped back from the door, his team behind him with the fire selector switch of all weapons on automatic fire mode.

His right leg shot forward and smashed into the door. The door caved in and Varun moved in with his weapon aiming at the great darkness beyond.

They separated into two teams of two men each. Varun led Team One. Havildar Jaidev Singh Rautela led Team Two.

The ground floor was searched room by room. No one spoke and all communication was by hand signal.

Varun signaled to Jaidev’s team…all clear. Lets go up. I will lead.

He slowly moved up the wooden stairs, knowing fully well that one small mistake could mean death. He climbed till the landing and then signaled his team to follow. The team followed.

They slowly reached the first floor. The team led by Varun turned right. The other team turned left.

I reached the encounter site and asked CHM Govind where Varun was. He informed me that there was an encounter in progress.

I cursed Varun under my breath. He could have waited. Now he was inside the house and I could not enter. There had been fatalities because of friendly fire before and I did not want to accidently shoot Varun or his men.

“Why did he enter the house when I told him not to?”, I angrily asked Govind, raising my voice.

“Izzat”, Govind said softly. He wanted to say that it was Varun’s right to avenge the deaths of Bravo company men and it was a matter of honor for an officer. Govind could not find the right words to explain to me, and so he used the one word that all army men understand, one word that brooks no argument or discussion.

Govind hesitatingly continued, “We are Kumaoni, Sir. We will always choose death before dishonour”. I had heard this a million times in the regiment. This was the regiment of Maj. Somnath Sharma and Maj. Shaitan Singh. “Vijay ya Veergati” was in the DNA.

As Varun peeked into the large hall, he could see a single terrorist walk to the window to peep outside. 500 meters away, Naik Pratap Singh got the opening he wanted. The opening was just for 5 seconds but that was more than enough for a trained infantry sniper.

The Draganov 7.62 mm is a Russian sniper rifle. It is simple, sturdy and accurate. It delivers. Varun saw red mist coming out of the back of the terrorist’s head. Milliseconds later, the head exploded like a watermelon and it was then that Varun heard the sound of the shot.

There was confusion in the room and sound of movement. Varun moved in, followed by his buddy. 3’o clock to Varun was another terrorist. He saw Varun and fired. The shots were fired in fear and were wide. Varun fired a three round burst into his chest. The terrorist flew back and crashed into a wooden almirah.

In the other room Jaidev moved, keeping the wall to his left. As he moved into the room, looking through the sights of his weapon, a burst of automatic fire hit him in the leg. Jaidev screamed and collapsed. Varun ran to help his men.

There were two terrorists inside the room and were using Junaid’s father Mudassir, as a shield. One terrorist was pointing his weapon at Jaidev’s buddy. Jaidev’s buddy, a young athletic soldier called Manoj, was pointing his AK 47 at the terrorist. Varun saw that there was only one way to end this classical Mexican standoff.

Varun took a risk and very silently changed the fire selector switch to “single”. Now, whenever Varun squeezed the trigger, only one shot would be fired.

Varun looked at Manoj. No words were spoken. I don’t know if you believe in telepathy, but for men who live and die together, it is real. The decision was taken. Manoj suddenly dived to his right hand side and let loose a controlled burst at his target. His target slumped.

Simultaneously, Varun shot Mudassir in the thigh, smashing his femur beyond repair. Mudassir screamed and collapsed, leaving his brother Afzal exposed. Varun had not moved his weapon from his shoulder. He raised the barrel a few inches and shot Afzal twice in the chest, using the double tap shooting technique. Two rounds were fired in quick succession at the same target using the same sight picture. Afzal’s body spun around and crashed into the floor.

Varun quickly moved to where the terrorist shot by Manoj, lay. His breathing was shallow and his face had lost all color. He was moments away from death.

Varun spoke into his radio set “This is Victor Bravo. All clear. One friendly injured. Sanitize area. Out.”

Bravo Company rushed inside.
5 November 1996
Battalion Head Quarters, 17 Kumaon

We bid farewell to our 3 martyrs with tears in our eyes. The injured had been shifted to the 25th Infantry Division Military Hospital at Rajouri.

The Commanding Officer’s briefing had started a while back and would finish any time soon.

“Gentlemen, we have our orders. There is enhanced infiltration at Balnoi Gap, ahead of Mendar. Gary, you will move with Charlie Company and for administrative purposes, will be attached to 14 Maratha Light Infantry. Come back to us in one piece.”

“Varun, you have been nominated to attend the ASMT (Army School of Mechanical Transport) Course in Bangalore. You will leave on 17 November.”

“Thank you gentlemen”, said the CO, and finished his briefing.

Later in the evening, we gathered around in Maj. Anuj’s room. We would be leaving for our company locations tomorrow morning, but today we would celebrate. Of that we were determined.

Out came the lousy lemonade and boiled eggs. Suddenly Varun entered the room with a bag. Maj. Gaur, Maj. Anuj, Maj. Yadav, 2/Lt Sam and I looked at him in curiosity.

Varun, that great king of drama, slowly put his hand inside the bag and one by one, took out two bottles of Peter Scott.

No one spoke. We were speechless with wonder.

“Its called superior management, gentlemen”, Varun smiled.

Maj. Anuj quickly walked to the door and latched it. If the CO found out that we were drinking, we would all go on very extended LRPs (Long Range Patrols) over the Pir Panjal Mountain Ranges.

We threw away the lemonade and Varun poured the golden liquid into the glass. Soda followed the whiskey and we looked at this light golden liquid in wonder.

As we raised our glasses and said our cheers, Varun held up a strip of Disprins.

“Gary Sir, drink up. It’s going to be rocking”, he winked.

Maj. Gaur lowered his voice and said, “Did you hear about that operation the MARCOS did at Wular Lake?”

It was going to be a long night.

I winked back, raising a toast to all the heroes of 17 Kumaon.

Major Gaurav Arya (Veteran)
17 Kumaon Regiment
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