This is about an evening way back in September 1965 when the short India Pakistan war had just broken out. I was posted in an army unit near the scenic town called Dharamshala in Himachal Pradesh. Our camp was about three thousand feet overlooking the town. It was dusk and I had just returned after horse riding, a daily activity in my unit which was an animal transport unit comprising of about a hundred mules and a few horses.
I was removing my riding boots and breeches and my orderly, a soldier by name Sripat Waje, I still remember him, was helping me. Suddenly he remarked, 'Saab, there is sound of an aeroplane flying above'.
I rushed out to the veranda of our house followed by him, my wife and my two kids barely two years old. It was getting dark now and as the sky was cloudy, it was difficult to spot the plane. the town below, we could see was blazing with busy street lights. In a moment, we saw a flash in the clouds followed by three huge explosions close to the town. Obviously, the place was being bombed by an enemy plane!
Air raid sirens started blaring out, power was shut off and we all ran to the trenches near our house in complete darkness. We could also hear the sirens of ambulances and movement of vehicles rushing to meet the emergent situation in the town. I could only imagine as to how many innocent people must lose their lives because of this cowardly action of bombing civilian areas by the enemy. We would get the full picture tomorrow in day light was my thought.
After about half an hour, all clear siren was heard and we returned to our normal activity. Of course, there will be no power during the night, we knew. We got ready for a candle light dinner minus the romance associated with it! Next morning, I joined the morning PT (physical training) parade with the men. Instead of doing the usual jog in our camp area, I decided to take them for a longer run to the town and visit the bombed area to get full picture of loss of lives and property because of the previous night's bombing.
As it turned out to our utter relief, the bombs had completely missed the town and had fallen in the dry river bed adjoining the area. They managed to kill a few sheep and one old man who must have been the shepherd. Even this loss was very regrettable but was nothing as compared to what would have been a much bigger tragedy if the bombs had fallen on the town itself.
We collected a few pieces of the splintered and exploded bombs as souvenirs and returned to our camp.
A few days later, it was learnt that the enemy plane had been shot down by our fighter planes. And another story circulated that the pilot of the enemy plane had deliberately dropped his bombs in the dry river bed so that there was no loss of innocent civilians and their property. The hearsay theory behind this noble deed was that the pilot's family hailed from this very town, Dharamshala before partition;how could he kill his own people!
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