It was quiet, too quiet! The hot humid afternoon air of the jungle, somewhere in the Jaffna Peninsula of Sri Lanka, hung heavy and an eerie silence prevailed, portending Dnger! The Gorkha patrol on a link up mission with a beleaguered post advanced cautiously, realising that the wily LTTE could spring a surprise anytime. Sensing movement out of the corner of his eyes, the leading scout, Rifleman Neer Bahadur Gurung, signalled for the following troops to stop while he let loose a fusillade of fire in the direction where he had sensed the adversary to be. A heavy exchange of fire ensued and Neer Bahadur sustained fatal wounds and breathed his last on the spot, not without having inflicted three fatal casualties – a rare feat against an LTTE ambush.
As is the tradition in the battalion, whenever a fatal casualty takes place, all unit members contribute a day’s salary to the bereaved family so that during the time taken to complete pensionary formalities, the family does not face any financial hardship. A JCO hailing from the same region of Nepal was detailed to carry the ashes and the compensatory cash to Neer Bahadur’s village, which tucked in amongst the folds of the Himalayas, was a good three day trek from the nearest road head.
As the JCO was approaching the village, word of his arrival reached Neer Bahadur’s mother. ‘Ammaji’ as Neer Bahadur would fondly address her, had just lost her husband to illness a few days ago, and thought that the JCO had come from the battalion to offer condolences. She was a bit perplexed with the rapidity of transmission of the news of her husband’s passing away to the unit located in faraway Sri Lanka. Neer Bahadur’s father had soldiered in the same battalion, 1/5 Gorkha Rifles (Frontier Force) as his son and his own father, spread over three generations. It is not uncommon to find fifth generation soldiers in the battalion and they trace their claims down to companies and platoons, such is the strength of the regimental bonding.
The JCO realised that this meant twin bereavements for Ammaji and when he did the rough mathematics of the dates of the demise of the father-son duo, he realised that they would have departed on the same date, 11 January 1990, a tragedy of humongous dimensions for the family. However for Ammaji, the stoic stock that she was made of, this earth shattering news did not make her loose her composure, though tears welled up in her already wet eyes and her posture slackened. After some time, her only question to the JCO was whether Neer Bahadur died a soldier’s death to which she got an affirmative answer and that he was responsible not only for inflicting casualties on the adversary but also saving his patrol from any losses. She then lamented that she had selected a bride for him and was awaiting his return on leave for the nuptials.
A while later her younger son Nar Bahadur appeared, having just returned from tending to the fields. Crestfallen as the environment may have been, Ammaji’s eyes shone with a glimmer of hope while her spirits soared like a phoenix. She implored the JCO to take her younger son back to the unit so that he could enlist and the generations-old regimental bond with the unit be sustained – a feat of the rarest of rare awe inspiring courage and fortitude of Ammaji.
After a night’s rest the JCO commenced his return journey along with Nar Bahadur and after deinduction from Sri Lanka, Nar Bahadur got enlisted as a Riflemen in the battalion. He is presently serving in the battalion as a JCO and his son has got enlisted in the battalion in early 2000. Ammaji joins him occasionally during his peace tenures, fortifying the fourth and the fifth generation of regimental bonds.