The Martyr of Siachen
The writer is a retired major general and has an interest in International Relations and Political Sociology. He can be reached at tayyarinam@hotmail.com and tweets @20_Inam
It was probably September 1987 and while on leave from the School of Infantry and Tactics at Quetta, we heard the news of the shahadat (martyrdom) of Captain Muhammad Iqbal Khan, a friend, a course mate and a colleague. He was defending Pakistan fighting Indian troops at the highest battlefield of the world, at Siachen. He had volunteered for a mission with no chances of survival. Yes, a sure martyrdom that he yearned for. He asked his seniors: “I be given the honour of sacrificing my life for Pakistan.” And once selected, he pronounced to his peers: “I will lead you in shahadat.”
Capt Iqbal offered the supreme sacrifice, performing ‘beyond the call of duty’, as is stated in military dispatches. His dead body was recovered after almost one year in perfectly preserved condition that shuhada deserve. For that critical operation, Iqbal was awarded Hilal-e-Jurrat (HJ), the highest gallantry award after Nishan-e-Haider (NH). This operational award made our course, 65th PMA the Warriors proud. And once Nazir Naji wrote that epic column in the daily Nawa-i-Waqt...Siachen ka Shaheed on 24 October 1987; we named Warrior Course, as “Capt Iqbal Shaheed’s Own”. That pride continues to this day after all these years.
That pride attracted us like a magnet to a grand reunion at Pakistan Military Academy (PMA), Kakul last week after over four decades since we had passed out. The moment you enter this alma mater with no comparison, the fresh air mixed with scent from pinecones, seasonal flowers and the earth — combined with the sounds and sights that have only changed for the better — transform you back in time. Yes, it is that magical. From Generals, Brigadiers, Colonels, Lieutenant Colonels, Majors and Subalterns, you become Gentlemen Cadets (GCs).
As is customary, we had invited our teachers called the Platoon Commanders and the drill ‘Staff’, the non-commissioned officers who teach you how to take first steps in the military; and who in two years transform you from a raw young person into a soldier. Luckily our faculty then included luminaries like Maj (later Colonel) Aftab Aziz and Maj (later Brig) Muhammad Saleem Khan, both awarded with Sitara-e-Jurrat (SJ), the coveted gallantry award, for displaying bravery against Indian forces in the 1971 War. And yes, there were inspirations like Capt (later Brig) Farooq Afzal, who was a Platoon Commander under Maj Shabbir Sharif (the older brother of ex-COAS, General Raheel Sharif) during the famous operation across Sabuna canal to capture Gormukh Khera and Beri villages in Sulaimanki Sector in the 1971 Indo-Pakistan war. Maj Shabbir Sharif was posthumously awarded NH for his bravery adding to his earlier SJ; and his Lieutenant, Farooq Afzal the Tamgh-e-Jurrat (TJ). It was a treat to be trained by such leading lights in combat.
The Course spirit was unmatched. With 43 wickets down out of 344, over 170 had come over from abroad and all over Pakistan. And with wives, children, their spouses and children’s children, it was a cheering and jeering crowd of a little under 700. The PMA Staff and our own Staff, with most in their 80s but still high on motivation, made us reminisce about our PMA days, re-enacting the passing out parade with the same discipline, enthusiasm, elan and candor. Ears were filled with voices like ‘wo nana jaan’... ‘wo dada’ (that is grandpa) when we struggled with our bulges and depleted fitness levels. But despite the conditions, everybody did ‘proper drill’ under the watchful eyes of Adjutant, the PMA Staff, and our own drill instructors.
A profession where associations are unbreakable and bondages among and between families spanning decades, nobody was forgotten. Iqbal was unmarried when he earned shahadat, so his extended family came over to lay wreath on the Yadgaar-e-Shuhada (Martyrs’ Monument). In other cases, deceased course mates were represented by spouses and kids. The family spirit was ‘seeing to be believing’. We also had course mates who were ‘relegated’ to junior courses for some reason, or who left the Military Academy of their own volition. Such is the strength of PMA-engendered camaraderie.
Administratively, the various course committees worked round the clock to make the reunion a success. Every meal, every room and board and every present were financed and paid for by the Course, with no burden passed elsewhere. The whole affair...from the grace of ‘Last Post’ to the end was under military norms.
Being in PMA is a life-changing experience and even if some are unsuccessful in getting commission, or change tracks later, the PMA exposure remains lasting, and helpful in other career choices. Warriors, like most courses, had corporate leaders, senior civilian bureaucrats, senior most police officers, business tycoons and chief scientific officers in its fold...all proud of their military pedigree and bondages.
Years ago, in a diplomatic function in Islamabad, while discussing the civil-military relations with Tehmina Daulatana, Ayaz Amir and Jan Jamali, all veteran politicians with connections to the Military, one had proudly stated Pakistan having a machine, where ethnicities are fed from one side and the finished product on the other side is a ‘pure Pakistani’. And that machine is PMA. Our own course has members from all provinces, all ethnicities, all religions and sects, and all socio-economic backgrounds from Generals’ sons to those from very humble beginnings. And they excelled and were measured for their performance and potential, and not on the basis of their origin and relations. My own roommate 43 years ago, for one term of six months was from rural Mastung in Balochistan, whose son is now a Major, and other sibling doing even better.
These are nostalgic iterations for a life spent in the company of comrades, who were always there in thick and thin; who shared each comfort and sorrow; whose introduction as ‘course mate’ flattens all hierarchies of rank, status, competence and other dividers; and social networking with whom remains a tonic par excellence, when medicines fail.
During the night in Platoon-level dinner, having discussed military life...its experiences like the meagre salary running out around the 15th of each month, the endemic indebtness to banks and the unit canteen contractor, the buying of electronics on instalments from the CSD stores, and military’s overall trials and tribulations...the capping sentiment was that if things were to be re-done with today’s wisdom...it would be repeat of the same.
Long live Pakistan, long live its Military!
Published in The Express Tribune, November 9th, 2023.
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