Good Bye Tiger

 

Coursemates in the armed forces are a strange breed. Young hooligans thrown together by fate, and bound together for life,,, someone said. The days and nights spent together in the Training Academy all those years back, have forged a bond so strong, which no family or friend can replace. The agonies and the ecstacies of our training have ensured that. 

Today, I may not have met some of them for last 25 years; but one call on mobile from any of them in any part of the country, is enough to transform you into a different person. 

Wives have come to understand it. Children try to decode it. 

Karanbir was one such youthful chatterbox. Tall, fair and handsome, he was from the Dhadiala Natt Village, situated close to Batala in the Gurdaspur district in Punjab. 

We both had joined the Officers' Training Academy (OTA) Chennai, right out of our Colleges, in the autumn of 1997. We were young and shared a dream of serving our nation through the Olive Greens. Being in the same Meiktila Company, that shared dream meant sharing the rigours of sleepless nights, endless training and carefree handholding. He was always helpful to  everyone and had a very infectious smile. The training was tough, but he was the silent warrior who could bear it all with a trademark smile. 

It was not difficult to understand his  steely resolve and die hard patriotism when we later learnt that his father, Colonel Jagtar Singh Natt, is a veteran from the 22nd Battalion of The PUNJAB REGIMENT, and a soldier who fought the 1971 War in the 'Shakargarh Bulge' sector and also battled the Mizoram insurgency.

Ten months later, in September 1998, Lieutenant Karanbir Singh Natt was commissioned as a Short Service Commission Officer into 19th Battalion of THE BRIGADE OF THE GUARDS of the Indian Army. Meanwhile, I had lost a term (the rigmaroles of training) and got commissioned in the Regiment of Artillery in March 1999. 

Yeah, in the years to come, we both moved on, got married, had children and handled our fair share of personal and professional challenges which Army offers. The standard rigours of serving in all corners of our country, and beyond, ensured that we could not meet for years thereafter.  Many years later, in 2012, I learnt through other Coursemates that Karanbir had completed his Short Service Commission tenure of 14 years of uniformed service, and moved out into the civvie street. He also acquired a Masters in Business Administration from the Management Development Institute in Gurgaon as part of his reattiring phase.

But what was he if not in the Olive Greens. So soon thereafter, Karanbir joined the Territorial Army (TA). And his fairytale service to his motherland continued.

That's when we met again. First time in 16 years after he moved out of the OTA Chennai. 

It was in the Kashmir Valley sometime in the winters of 2014. The heavenly climes of Kupwara were marred by the challenging Counter Insurgency Operations which kept us all there. We both were deployed close by. While I was commanding my Artillery Regiment, he was the Second-in-Command of 160 TA Battalion (Home and Hearth), less than an hour's drive away. Despite the difficulties of our operational responsibilities in a challenging environment, we used to find time for each other. We met often in the next few months catching up on everything of last 15-16 years. Discussing family and friends and, what Coursemates do best, reliving the OTA days. I distinctly remember him excitedly narrate his experiences of Operation Parakram in 2002 when he was deployed on the Gurdaspur border with his platoon of BRDMs (armoured cars with anti-tank missiles).... So full of Josh and life.

We last met in April 2015. My Regiment had completed its tenure in the Kashmir Valley and was soon to move out of the place. That's when we spent an afternoon together. Sipping hot coffee in the backdrop of Shamsabari Mountain Range as we went about our usual business of talking non-sense which only Coursemates can understand. I remember our last hug as I bid him good bye, that warmth will remain etched forever.

Army has its strange ways of hardening you as a person wherein you become immune to the vagaries of life and handle them all with an easy calm, or atleast pretend to do so, no matter how adverse things appear to be. Iron Fist with Velvet Glove, they say. 

A few months later, it was with these mixed emotions of shock, coupled with an "it will be okay" composure, that I learnt that Karanbir had got injured in a military operation in the forested hills of Kupwara. As the news spread in our coursemates' circle, we slowly learnt that it was much worse than what we thought.

On 22 November 2015, a cold Sunday afternoon, a Kalashnikov bullet smashed the lower jaw of Karanbir at the Haji Naka village in Kupwara District, on the edge of a dense forest, 7 kilometres from the Line of Control (LoC). The bullet had slipped into one of the many chinks and exposed flanks of the body armour comprising a Bulletproof Patka and Jacket. Unlike the death five days earlier of Colonel Santosh Mahadik, Sena Medal, Commanding Officer (CO) of 41st Battalion of The Rashtriya Rifles, in the same area, Karanbir survived that crippling gunshot wound. The terrorists who shot at Karanbir and Colonel Mahadik were from Lashkar-e-Toiba.

As he was grievously injured in his jaw, he remained alert and communicated with gestures till the night of that fateful day despite the wound which bled heavily and did not allow himself to lie down as his tongue would block the air passage. So grievous and unusual was the bullet wound that the Army Medical Corps (AMC) team had to resort to innovative and commando like tactics in the field area to operate him and evacuate him speedily thereafter. He was operated in the field area by doctors of 92 Base Hospital Srinagar and was later airlifted to the Army Hospital (Research and Referral), AHRR, in Dhaula Kuan, Delhi Cantt. 

While I was with my Regiment in Meerut, I went to meet him several times at the AHRR. It was simply devastating to see our Karanbir lying in a state of almost coma. He was lying on his ICU bed, eyes aflutter, at times half shut, asleep or awake without caring about day or night. Every time I went to look him up, I hoped and prayed to hear about some progress, but improvement was negligible.

Since that fateful day, he lived on for eight years. The prayers of his family, which also includes his two young daughters and friends kept him going. For last eight years, Karanbir, so full of life when we met last, was immobile, could not speak, could not recognize or respond, was completely unresponsive and was fed meals through a food tube.

To quote the words of one of his friends, Col PS Randhawa (Retired), "I marvel at the family’s fortitude and their staidness. The book Does He Know a Mother’s Heart: How Suffering Refutes Religions tries to find answers from various religions about such suffering. Where does a simple man seek refuge under such calamity? By remembering God and asking for benevolence to bless the sufferer by answering his prayers! But for how long should one wait? We often say God is testing our patience, but how long should it continue? There are no answers. If someone has it, please shoot".

Well, the waiting has ended today with the Gods above deciding to call Karanbir to their folds. 

Our Karanbir breathed his last today morning at Military Hospital Jalandhar.

24 December 2023. 

He continued to fight like a soldier for Eight Years, One Month and Two days since that fateful afternoon. 

As his wife, Ms Navpreet Kaur, and his young daughters, Guneet and Ashmeet, brave the irreparable loss, the God must be blessing them from above to stay strong; for He will always ensure that Karanbir's strength and resolve live on forever.

All the Coursemates - the Gentlemen Officers of SSC-66 and the Lady Officers of WS-12 - would keep his infectious smile alive in their memories as we silently raise a toast to the life that he lived and the life that he sacrificed for our motherland.

As we slowly come to terms with the void left behind by Karanbir, I recollect the words of Michael Norman in 

"These Good Men: Friendships Forged From War"...... 

"I now know why men who have been to war yearn to reunite.  Not to tell stories or look at old pictures.  Not to laugh or weep.  Comrades gather because they long to be with the men who acted at their best; men who suffered and sacrificed, who were stripped of their humanity.  I did not pick these men.  They were delivered by fate and the military.  But, I know them in a way I know no other men.  I have never given anyone such trust.  They were willing to guard something more precious than my life.  They would have carried my reputation, the memory of me.  It was part of the bargain we all made, the reason we were so willing to die for one another.  As long as I have my memory, I will think of them all, every day.  I am sure that when I leave this world, my last thought will be of my family and my comrades...Such good men."

Rest in Peace Karanbir. 

Till we meet again....

And then we will be rascals once again.

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