ONION STEW

Onion Peel, Your Eyes Water.
Now Onion Rates, Make Your Budget Slaughter.
Petrol, Diesel, Cost Of Living The Public Fear.
Corruption Is The Only Way To Live Here.
How To Wake The Power, From Sleep Sheer.
Call For Two Days Of Complete India Strike,
To Make The Point To The Government Amply Clear.
More Than Three Idiot Was The Public, They Misunderstood,
Damaged And Destroyed, Whatever Little India Could Build.
Nothing Achieved, The Country Is Back On Track To Disaster.(India Strike 20-21 Feb 2013)

GAG

AFZAL GURU, You Were Hanged, Because You Sold This Great Nation, For Small Amount Of Money, Your Action Galvanized Nations Enemy To Penetrate Deep Inside, To Make An Armed Attempt To Destroy The Sanctity Of India.
Still I Do Not Know? Why? Your Hanging Makes Me Sad, Disappointed, Disgusted and Helpless. Your People Fought Man To Man, Got Killed In Their Foolish Venture, And Some Of Our Brave Attained Martyrdom.
As A SOLDIER, I May Not Hold Any Malice/ Grudge, But Than, I Have A Different Predicament Now?
Who Will Hang The Responsible, The People Who Have Sold The Nation India, For Amount Unimaginable, In 2G/ CWG/ Coal/ Submarine/ AW 101 VIP Helicopters/ Army Equipment & Ration Supply/Cash For Vote ETC ETC Scams. Those Involved Have Not Only Sold The Nation But Deprived Poor Indians Of Food, Health Care, Education, Water, Shelter, Clothing And Top It All Their National Pride. Here Thousands Would Die And Are Dying Every Day.
Now, If God Forbid, Some One From Amongst these Poor, Again Sell The Nation For Food And Education Of His Hungry Wife And Children? Who Will Take The Blame.
WAKE UP NATION, Corruption Is As Worse And Heinous As Rape,Murder And Sedition. 
HANG THEM ALL, OTHER WISE JUSTICE WILL BE INCOMPLETE.

YOUR COUNTRY

Your prosperity and affluence will go unnoticed, if your country and your people do not benefit.

Your name and fame will go unnoticed,if your country and your people do not appreciate.

Your big house and big cars will go unnoticed, if your people in your country, do not stay and enjoy the ride. 

Your child growth will go unnoticed,if he does not know his country and it's people. 

Your happiness and grin will go unnoticed,if you were not there in your country, to share the pain of your people, in grief.

Your end will go unnoticed, if it was not for your country, and your remains not in your countries soil.

The true fact of life with our young Indians, they leave Indian shores, for greener pastures abroad, never to return back.

TIME INFINITE

At The Saichin Glacier We Were Deployed To Fight
There Was No Snow At 20,000 Ft But Ice.
We Fought The Weather And The Enemy On The Other Side.
My Combat Outfit Was Hindustani, With No Caste, Color Or Creed And Religion To Hide.
None Went To Masjid, Church Or Temple To Pray For Life.
It Was Always India, Bharat And Hindustan In Our Mind And Sight.
Than Why Divide Yourself, When No Religion Could Stop Your Birth Or Prevent Your Death For Time Infinite

INDIAN ARMY SOLDIER

The Day You Got Martyrdom, Fighting The Enemy, On The Borders, Dear, Brave Indian Army Soldier.
I Do Not Know, How Your Mother And Wife Could Sleep That Night.
I Know, The Bullet, Before Entering You Chest Must Have Cried.

EVERY DOG HAS ITS DAY

Check, Re-check and Re-Re-Check, was his fad, his obsession, he did not believe anyone in his command. Yes! The General was stupendously stupid in implementing his Check, Re-check and Re-Re-check theory, an intelligent veil to centralize all power under him. Agree to his ideas or be prepared for a sack.
His overtly ambitious command preferred it wise to keep the General in the perpetual state of oblivion, by feeding him information of his liking. The General enjoyed being a species from outer space, too detached from the reality on the ground. The situation bred a coterie of exploiters, who mischievously customized the system, becoming obsequious. It was a fertile environment for the inefficient and the careerist officers in the organization. The dogmatic staff prevented and discouraged the subordinates from learning, training and taking initiative.
The coterie enjoyed pampering, the Generals wife and children, in fact all who mattered and had the proximity to influence were pleased.
The Generals wife one day expressed her desire for a soldier to be dispatch to Jammu. It was to collect a pedigree pure white Pomeranian pup from a Brigadier, friend of theirs. A group of suitable soldiers were summoned for the task, but none dare to take the risk of selecting that one man for the job. The easiest way, it was decided, is to parade the entire lot in front of the General.
A rustic Jat soldier was found fit, not that he had any special qualification for the peculiar task, but he satisfied the Army whim, of not being a local from Jammu or any place near it. Army believes, a local would run to his home and not do his assigned duty properly. A misplaced fear of a weak Boss, Army Act has enough penal sections to deal with such defaulters, but than the task should be legitimate to apply the Army penal acts. The soldier was thoroughly briefed by the General himself, he would leave nothing to chance, a letter in hand, the Jat soldier left for Jammu.
The Jat soldier, it appeared did a fine job, returning in time, with a cute little white pup. The General and his dog loving wife were very happy; they gave a call to their Brigadier friend in Jammu, thanking him for this beautiful gift of a pure pedigree white pup. "Well done"! The General patted the Jat soldier, "Go and report to your Commanding Officer, he has been instructed to felicitate you on an appropriate occasion for this good job."
At the battalion, it was decided that this great feat of felicitation, will be carried out, when the General was to visit the battalion during the Divisional sports meet.
The pup was approximately a month old, and soon two months elapsed. The Generals wife had seen many pedigree Pomeranian in her life, but this one seemed different; she thought it wise to speak to their Brigadier friend in Jammu. "All other pups have grown beautifully", the Brigadier replied, "they are talk of the town, the purest breed ever, with heavy fur and perfect small size". "The pup which is with you," the Brigadier clarified, "is the best male pup."
The Generals wife was fuming, "male pup?" The white lanky thin tall dog standing in front of her was a bitch, with no fur, and no semblance to remotely related Pomeranian's furthest cousin. The dog stood there wagging its tail, probably grinning, ready to jump on the Generals wife lap, the lanky creature no more fascinated her, a confirmed street stray dog, she realized now. She tried to give a kick to the dog, the dog was smart, it coolly slipped under the huge mahogany sofa, putting her off balance, and she slipped and fell.
"DAAAAARLINNNNNG, PUNISHH THAT JAT SOLDIER, the dog has kicked me and is not a Pomeranian." She was uncontrollable, shrieking, shouting and yelling; she was at her loudest and appeared more street stray than the dog.
Nobody understood the reason of commotion and chaos in the Generals house. The Jat soldier was picked up by the military police as ordered, what may be the reason, every one tried to clarify from the rustic Jat. "Nothing to worry," he confidently replied to all who queried, "it is to felicitate me for a job I had done for the General few months back." Well nobody had the courage to unnecessary carry out further probe in the matter.
"From where did you get this street stray dog? You useless soldier," shouted the General. "From Jammu sir," replied the rustic Jat. "No!" retorted the General, "the dog is certainly not the one which the Brigadier at Jammu gave it to you, it has no resemblance to the Pomeranian breed?" "You idiot," retorted the General and continued with grimace. "Now say something, or else I will give you a kick and post you somewhere on the remotest mountain top." "What can I say sir," cried the Jat, "the dog probably has taken its fathers genes."
MINOR INCIDENTS GIVE MAJOR RESULTS
The General was intelligent; he did not wait or waste a single day, the very next day he announced and abandoned his Check, Re-check, and Re-Re check policy. The sycophant’s coterie smelled their uselessness and was cunningly fast to activate their connections at the Army Head Quarters for their posting out. The Jat was the martyr of the episode; he was given the kick along with the dog, from the Generals house that day.
The truth would never have come out, but for the folly of the Jat to get drunk on the eve of Divisional sports meet celebration. "General," he was speaking to his dog. The dog now understood the Jats rustic behavior very well; she responded to the Jats address, by crawling closer, as if to coax the Jat for a full debate on the issue. The Jat continued, unconcerned and unaware of anyone around. "General," he repeated to his dog, "you know, I will be telling my grand children, that I was sacked because of you." He had another swig from the bottle and gave some to his dog, who happily licked the entire liquid, the dog crawled more closer, as if she wanted to hear every thing clearly; the Jat poured some more liquor to the dog, she licked and wanted more. "Wait!" said the Jat, "you will get drunk, General, first listen to my painful story." The dog crawled getting closer, and was almost on his lap.
"You know, General! "After collecting the pup, I came to the railway station. I was hungry, as none at the Brigadiers house bother to ask me for food". The pup had been secured by me with a thin rope made of poor quality cotton; I held it tightly with one hand and had ordered for Allu Puree from the vendor, when I finished my meal, I realized, that the pup had slipped and was missing, I carried out a thorough search of the entire railway station." The Jat paused, took another sip from the bottle, simultaneously giving mouthful to his dog. "You know General, "I found you coolly enjoying, along with other pups; the milk from the mammary of a stray bitch, at a remote corner of the railway shed." "You were white in color, and had close resemblance to the pup, I had just lost". "What could I do, I did not understand the local Dogri language, and was therefore dumb struck, in the crowd." "You were my savior then, and now you get me a sack. Well! You Know General; Every Dog Has Its Day."

AN UNPROFESSIONAL BOSS ALWAYS PROMOTES AN UNSCRUPULOUS STAFF, CAUSING AN UNUSUAL ROT IN THE SYSTEM. VERY APPROPRIATE COMMENT BY MY LEARNED WIFE VANITA DUBEY.

The story is based on a true Army incident, amusing, with interesting lesson. Do give your comments.

I HAD THE COURAGE TO KILL, TO MAKE HIM DIE FOR HIS COUNTRY. I WAS TRAINED; AND THEREFORE I SURVIVED,TO FIGHT YET ANOTHER DAY FOR MY COUNTRY.

“Good Morning! I am Teresa,” She said extending her hand for handshake to me. I was perplexed, the charming young lady was bold and I as a young infantry combat officer, did not anticipate this sudden move by her. The girls generally kept distance from us, because as combat officers, we were rough and lacked finesse to handle the fairer sex. However it would have been inane to decline or overlook this fine gesture from a young lady.
My response was not spontaneous, but fearing that she may change her mind, I was fast enough to extend my hand, for a very warm handshake, "I am Lt Rakesh Dubey and nice to meet you Teresa," I said. “Nice to meet you too," she said. “Well what can I do for you?” I added. "Commando Training is to commence shortly and I may not find any time for socializing thereafter ” I very humbly informed her. My lack of polish to handle beautiful and charming girls was evident. “Do not worry", she said, "I just noticed you, and thought I should meet you, the reason is as simple as that." "And if you are free? the dinner is on me tonight, the choice is yours? either MH Mess or any Restaurant of your liking, in Belgaon." She concluded. The days ahead, were interesting and eventful, till disaster struck one day.
It was Holi, the festival of colors; with combat infantry officers, the celebrations had to be wild. The madness was deliberately gigantic, because it was our last day of freedom and fun at Belgaon. The next day, we were to enter the dreaded and the grueling portion of our final training, our test of intelligence, endurance, grit and strength, The Commando Training Lag.
The colors were assorted, the drinks cock tailed, I was consuming hard drinks for the first time in my life, and therefore got totally drunk, enjoying with happiness to its ultimate. I was with my friends in the morning, and that is what I remember last. I woke up and gained sense at about 7 pm in the evening, and what I saw was equal to straight 440 volt, bolt from the blue; that hit me straight, I was shocked to find myself in Teresa’s room, vomiting; "You should not drink like this," she said, holding a bucket to catch my puke, "it is bad for your health," said the others in chorus. "Damn it!" I said, "I had never tasted alcohol earlier;" in any case, it was inconsequential now, the damage had been done. "May I request someone, to kindly show me the way out." I retorted. "Also, my sincere apology to all, for this inconvenience, drinks are certainly, injurious to health." I added.
Buddy, Beant Parmar (actual name), had plans to go for a movie, and that is when he spotted me, coming out of the gate, variegated due to Holi and tipsy. Couldn’t thank him then, my gratitude buddy, Parmar. He evacuated me to my room, I went inside and slept.
It was 4 am, pitch dark, my hangover was still intense, and I was hallucinating. The tall, burly Commando Instructor, standing nose to nose in front of me, broke my spell. "Why have you painted yourself?" He shouted. That is when I realized, that I had not taken bath, after yesterday’s Holi. My face and hand were black, blue and red, my hairs were stiff, with proper paint, my head ached and I wanted to vomit. There is no mercy in the Commando training, either you do it, or you are out of it. "One minute!" He shouted. He had pressed the stop watch. "Go round that Tower, if you do not reach in time, you are out." The damn Tower was 2km away. I ran for my life. Perspiring alcohol, I vomited the entire filth of my stomach, behind the Tower; and was in time to join the training. It did me good, cleanse my entire inner system. I was now ready, to go through the action packed, Commando Lag of the Combat Infantry training, a dreaded non stop hell for 39 days, with no break or holidays in between. The Commando Lag had commenced.
The Indian Infantry Commando Training was extremely tough, grueling and hazardous. It surpassed the world’s best Armies, Commando training in physical and mental endurance, in survival under difficult conditions, in grit and determination. The training was so designed that each one of us, were pushed to our edge, the brave and strong sailed through, and the weak gave up. Unfortunately, in the latest technology and weaponry, it lagged far behind from the worst western world armies. It was sad, that we were being trained to fight, armed only with our own courage and bravery.
We under went at an average, 30 km of daily run, in full combat battle gear including weapons and 28 kg extra weight on our back. The test culminating into 10, 16, 24, 32 and 40 km of Battle Physical Efficiency Test. During our final 40 km battle test power run, we were confined in the wild jungle for 24 hours; for survival training. We had been trained earlier for survival in the Tropical thick Jungles. On completion of the stipulated time, in the evening, we were supplied with a wild hare, some vegetables and enough flour, for us four, to cook and eat. To devour after starvation, is a mistake an untrained man will generally commit, more so, when the climax was, culmination of this survival training into 40 km of battle physical efficiency test. The run commenced after midnight. Running a km in 8 minutes required a professional approach; we were trained and had the mental robustness to undertake the test.
The Un Armed Combat (UAC), chapter of Commando Lag was painful; we were already into Parkour, the sport which is getting popular now. The strength training was hazardous and risky. I had blisters on my palm, my body scorched; I was transformed, into a hungry tiger, lethal and ferocious.
"Do not present a bigger silhouette, while standing face to face during close combat with the enemy." A robust and agile UAC instructor was demonstrating. "Drop to the ground, using your palm for cushioning, ensure your elbow is slightly bend and flexible to shock absorb the fall, tilt your body to right/left, depending on your position, swing your leg to hit the enemy on the ankle, breaking his balance to make him fall flat on his back, exploiting the advantage, swing the other leg, to hit him on the chin." "Thirty seconds is the only reaction time with you, in this eventuality. If you act, you survive, and if you happen to delay, either he will act or his buddy will take a pot shot at you, from a distance." "Act faster than the speed of light," said the instructor, dusting his dress, after the demonstration.
I enjoyed the training and had mastered all the specialized skills of the UAC. I did not realize then, that the Un Armed Combat will save my life one day in J&K.
The Commando Jump was fear factor many folds. I jumped into the big pool, dressed in my combat dress; swam, climbed the four storied pylon, walked the one foot wide plank, gaining more height, to climb the steps in continuation, on reaching the vertical rope, holding and hanging on it, using my hands. The feat is difficult to perform, especially when the entire structure is deliberately made shaky. The agony does not end there; I swung my legs, catching the rope with my legs, in a scissor hold, crawling in that position, to the centre of pool, releasing the legs, and hung awaiting orders to jump into the pool. I jumped, going deep into the pool; the combat dress became heavy soaking tons of water. I swam back to the shore, the task was well accomplished. Negotiating the Lagoon, during Pursuit of  the LTTE in  Sri Lanka was therefore not difficult.
The Commando lag continued. I gained expertise in the handling and use of explosives, mastering the technique of laying booby traps, which we used to our advantage during operations in J&K and Sri Lanka. The mock training drill, of penetrating deep into the enemy territory by stealth, in small group to destroy enemy Bridges/Head Quarters/ Capture Enemy’s Military Commander was practiced many times over.
I am still, nostalgic of those 39 days. There we were thread solemnized into professional military leaders, fit to lead men in war and trained to "Be Brave To Triumph and Not Foolhardy to Succumb". These words from The Sacred Revered Holy Gita always resonate in my ear, to be practiced and followed.
I joined my Infantry Battalion in J&K, and was right away moved on the mountain top, to be deployed at the forward military post. Young Infantry Officers never had the luxury of staying in the comfort of the base camp, which was reserved only for cribbing and broody senior officers. We also detested their company, anyways. The forward Post gave real thrill and excitement; we were on our own, commanding troops directly and with our personal example. I was Captain Rakesh Dubey, now, given the field area promotion, in my first year of service, this added more adrenaline to my already over blooming enthusiasm. I was enjoying the adventure.
It was one of the most beautiful and picturesque place, situated at approximately, 5000 to 6000 feet from the mean sea level, a snow bound area full of dense trees and thick vegetation. The forward post and picket had been sited to dominate the Line of Control, (LoC) the line demarcating limit of influence of India and Pakistan, in J&K. The deployment was not tactically sited, the overriding factor of  visually dominating the LoC was the primary concern in siting the outposts, since the tactics was overlooked, the Indian and Pakistani Post got sited dangerously close to each other. Where I was deployed, my military outpost was at a stone throw distance, from the Pakistani outpost. We could almost, peep and observe their entire activities. Inspite of the close proximity, it was still difficult to directly approach and reach each others Post on ground, this was due to the fact, that the entire area was heavily mined. The area between the LoC and our depth Post measuring approximately 1000 meters was not only mined but Booby Trapped and fenced with barbed wire. All the villages on our side of the LoC had been shifted behind the line of mountains, to be kept under our direct observation. The area which remained segregated due to this arrangement had developed into a thick forest, very difficult to penetrate; it also gave undisturbed breeding place to large number of wild animals, like wild boar,wolves, jungle fowl and hare, which we spotted almost daily. The wild panther and mountain leopard, another dangerous wild animal species; were also seen at times,    raiding our Post, whenever we received the consignment of meat on hoof (live goats), in large numbers, once a week
The wild animals had developed a very intelligent survival instinct and the skill; they cunningly avoided the mines and booby traps, rarely stepping on them. I had the similar intelligence, skill and capability to move by stealth and could reach closer to LoC unnoticed. My daily escapade, made it possible for me to dominate and map the entire stretch effectively.
On the Pakistani side the villages were located very close to the LoC and mostly inhabited by Pakistan Armies retired personals; an arrangement deliberately done by the Pakistanis to use the villages as launching pads of terrorists inside India. The entire area across the LoC was being cultivated and was clear of trees and cover. Therefore to patrol till the LoC, was difficult, as the enemy could easily observe our movement; the requirement of extreme amount of courage and bravery to dominate the LOC by physically moving near the LoC was paramount. My men thought that I was crazy, as I carried out such dangerous and fearless mission almost daily. They probably did not realize then, that I was brave and not foolhardy. Whenever, they were tasked to go on a patrol or lay an ambush, they went half way, sat cozily under a cover, came back and gave false report, I had to battle inoculate them.
It was 3pm; I ordered Riflemen Hira Singh and my JCO Vijay Singh, to accompany me that day, during my escapade to the LoC. I avoided carrying weapons, except the bayonet, which was more effective during stealth and covert operations. That day fortunately, the JCO was carrying a 7.62mm Belgium FN FAL SLR Rifle.
We moved carefully. On way, I educated my buddies in the technique to negotiate the mine fields, to locate the spot and avoid accidental tripping of the booby traps; it helped in raising  their confidence, their fear going to wind. How fast we had reached the edge of the jungle, we did not realize. The area 500 meters till the LoC was devoid of vegetation, but was rocky, with big boulders, good for covered move ahead. It was then I spotted a Pakistani, in black dress with a Rifle hung over his shoulder and a binocular, which he was using to observe something in the direction of our Post. He appeared approximately 500 to 600 meters, inside our territory. On critical observation of the place, where the Pakistani soldier was standing, it appeared that the Pakistanis had established a proper observation post, a very serious intrusion by them. They had to be dealt with severely. It was my test of leadership now; I had to demonstrate to my troops, that as a Commander, I will not accept any intrusion into the Indian side. We could not fire, because if we did that, we would attract, the attention of the Pakistani Post, which was located 100 feet, directly over our head.
The trained soldiers understand orders telepathically, they can read the commanders mind, understand his eye and hand gestures in order to understand execute his command orders effectively. I gave a tap on the JCOs shoulder, pointing in the direction, towards our side, the line of possible movement of the Pakistani soldier, and simultaneously showing him a fist and 5 fingers. The JCO understood that he has to take position inside the Jungle, to intercept the Pakistani soldiers, in case he decides to move deep inside our area. We synchronized our watches, the JCO tactically withdrew, to take his position in the stipulated 5 minutes.
I was crouched behind a boulder like a hungry Tiger, lethal and ferocious, ready to pounce on the prey, Rifleman Hira Singh was in similar position next to me, like a hungry cub, and ready to devour the meat after the kill.
GRAB THE OPPORTUNITY; IT WILL NOT LAST FOR INFINITY.
I had to act, we both were crazy; wanting to do the impossible, to catch the Pakistani alive. Five minutes had lapsed, the Pakistani soldiers started his retreat and suddenly disappeared in the confines of the broken ground. I was confident, that my JCO will not allow the Pakistani to move further inward, therefore my area of action lay only towards the LoC. We had to move fast, bayonets in our hand, menacing and ready to kill, we inched forward towards the LoC. The boulders provided ample cover, sitting bum to bum; we moved side ways, mimicking a spider, ensuring 360 degrees of clear observation. We moved along the grain of the ground and therefore moved with speed and undetected.
The Pakistani village which was right in front of us, had remained hidden from our view, due to rocky terrain and broken ground. I saw the same Pakistani soldier, entering the small house next to a water hole, forming into a small pond; there next to the pond squatted a Pakistani village woman, washing her face. We were into a peculiar situation, approximately 1000 meters inside the LoC, we knew we were in trouble, only advantage being,we were mentally ready and prepared, and in position not very far from the pond. Hira Singh tugged at my shirt, a signal to observe, and I saw the Pakistani soldier, walking in our direction. We had to act and act fast. The action was meticulously visualized and planned in that split second; Hira Singh will run from the left of the pond, in the direction of the woman, to divert attention, and I would to run from the right of the pond, after a time gap, to tackle the Pakistani soldier, and fall back here again behind the boulder. The boulder, was the point of rendezvous, before we were to plan extricate ourselves back to the safe confines our territory.
Bayonet in hand, Hira Singh ran first; he was like lightening, like a cheetah after its prey. My move had to be deliberate; I started my run, the Pakistani soldier and the Pakistani woman, did not realize the development and therefore could not assess the situation and were confused, this was advantageous to me. I reached the Pakistani soldier in no time, moving with the speed of wind. The Pakistani soldier could not believe his eyes, coming straight to him I placed a direct  shot with the base of  palm on his chin; he fell straight on the ground due to the momentum of the impact. I knew those first 30 seconds are very crucial, you delay, and he would act. I then heard a gun shot very close to my ears, almost missing me, I wasn’t hit; that is when I saw another Pakistani soldier appearing from the house and firing his weapon in Hira Singh direction. I turned from where I was , came and hit him on the ankle, he got off balance and fell flat on his back. My bayonet was in my hand, I had to act now, 30 seconds is the only time I had; as tiger, lethal and ferocious, I was ready to kill and scoot, placing the bayonet on his naval, I pushed it inside and churning it I pulled and ran back to the previous fallen Pakistani soldier; his end was also executed, in the similar lethal fashion using my deadly bayonet. I ran and reach behind the boulder, to rendezvous with Hira Singh, who had reached in time, his task accomplished. There was total commotion in the Pakistani camp, the Pakistani Army troops from the Post, which was located just 100 feet above our head came down, with their automatic weapons, and started indiscriminate firing, all over. They had not spotted us. They feared, and had presumed that the Indian Army had raided their village in the valley. The entire area was reverberating with the loud cry "Kafir Aagaya, Kafir Aagaya". The Punjabi Pakistani troops, were shouting abusively in desperation. We managed to negotiate, to quite a distance towards our territory, using cover of boulders. However, we were still a distance away from the safety of the thick jungle and busy green cover, I had warned Hira Singh to be quiet, and not to retaliate to the abusive Pakistani troops, who had still not spotted us and were therefore spraying bullets all over. That is when Hira Singh got up from the safety and cover of the boulder and shouted. Our position instantly came in their radar, they fired for effect using number of weapons with bullets flying all over and around us. The boulder splintered and the bullets became more effective, it was then I heard a close shot, I thought, it has hit me. Hira Singh flew backwards with the impact. He had been hit. The bullet pierced from front, below his left shoulder, missing all the vital organs, it retracted from the rear, from below the right shoulder blade.
I evacuated Hira Singh, to the safety of the jungle cover, The JCO did the rest; he was shifted to the Field Hospital at Rajouri in J&K, by the fastest means. Riflemen Hira Singh recovered after few months and was declared fit for war. I had battle inoculated my troops, successfully.

"Battles are not won sitting in safety of  the War Room. Battles are won on the ground, by the officers and men of  the Indian Army, provided they are trained, motivated and battle inoculated.

My Learned wife, Vanita Dubey, my inspiration; always have an appropriate sermon to offer. "Plan what you can execute, and execute what you have planned".

This is a true account of an army incident. The real action sequences narrated, had taken place in the battle condition with the soldiers of the enemy country. It is a professionally executed job by the trained soldier’s of the Indian Army. The actions are dangerous and not to be mimicked or copied by anyone for actual/ fun.