Moonglade

Moonglade

Copyright © 2018 ISPR, All rights reserved

First paperback edition printed March 2018 in Pakistan

ISBN: 978-969-7632-02-2

No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information retrieval system without written
permission of the publisher.

Published by
Inter Services Public Relations (ISPR)
Hilal Road, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
March 2018
www.ispr.gov.pk

For more copies of this book

[email protected]
+92 51 9271617

Designed by
Imran Ali Malik

Printed by
Pakistan Post Foundation
Islamabad.

Price: Rs 500

Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this

book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or
omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting
from the use of information contained herein.
 Dedicated
To those parents and grand-
parents who infused in their
young ones the spirit of sacrifice,
sense of responsibility, call of
duty and love of Motherland. The
institution in them motivated
hundreds and thousands of
youth to join the armed forces,
many would return ghazis, many
in flag-wrapped coffins, and
many with chests glittering with
gallantary medals.

Moonglade |i
ii | M o o n g l a d e
 Contents
Foreword 1
Preface 3
Prologue 7
Sacrifices of a Few; and Many 11
Times That Try Our Men 17
I Shall Fight in Your Name Dear One 21
The Making of A Soldier 26
Among Heroes 30
Missing You Baba 36
My Brother, My Hero 39
Eye of the Star Shall Not Be Robbed Away 42
What I Wish I Could Tell You Now 46
In Love of Pakistan 50
The Pride I Witnessed 54
Pride Resides in the Bosom of Anguish 57
Wedding Bells Rhymed by Call of Duty 60
Keep on Fighting Our War 64
A Tale of Two Martyr Brothers 66
My Martyred Brother 70
Martyred in Captivity 76
Behind the Enemy Lines 79
Too Young to Die! 82
Gul Zada: The Citizen 85
Christians Who Laid Down Life for Pakistan 89
To Light a Candle in the Darkness 93
Alert and Firm 100
Chasing Down Terror 104

M o o n g l a d e | iii
Stalking Dir with Eagle Eye 107
Waziristan at Peace 115
Siachen – Where Eagles Fear to Tread 137
For World Peace 149
Not the Bygone Days! 153
Loga Operation 156
The Black Hawk Down 162
A Martyr of UN 167
Maximum Courage 170
Capt Raja Muhammad Sarwar Shaheed 170
Naik Saif Ali Janjua Shaheed 172
Maj Tufail Muhammad Shaheed 175
Maj Raja Aziz Bhatti Shaheed 177
Pilot Officer Rashid Minhas Shaheed 181
Maj Shabbir Sharif Shaheed 183
Maj Muhammad Akram Shaheed 186
Sowar Muhammad Hussain Shaheed 189
Lance Naik Muhammad Mahfuz Shaheed 190
Capt Karnal Sher Khan Shaheed 192
Havildar Lalak Jan Shaheed 195
A Soldiers‘ General 198
Soldiers for Life 202
To My Soldier Brother 209
The Pakistani Soldier Today 210
Pakistan a Symbol of Resilience 215
Fighting for Peace in Pakistan 222
Epilogue 233

iv | M o o n g l a d e
 Foreword
Freedom is not for free; has a cost and lies in being strong.
Only the brave ensure it; the world does recognize that the
Pakistanis are a nation of extraordinary courage, resilience and
commitment.

We the Pakistanis have passed through enormous

challenges from achievement to the defence of our freedom.
We are fighting world‘s toughest war against terrorism, have
fought three wars imposed by the enemy, have succeeded in
securing the position of robust nuclear weapon state and
completed 71 years as an independent state to the utter
disbelief of adversaries who were of the view that Pakistan
would not last for even half-a-decade. Chief of Army Staff
General Qamar Javed Bajwa, while unfurling the 400-foot
large Pakistan flag at Wagha on August 14 last year, gave a
loud and clear message to the world that ―Pakistan has come to
exist, forever‖.

Down there are the sacrifices offered by thousands of

Pakistanis including men/women in uniform as well as those
who are not. The nation owes them due recognition and
respect, reverence and remembrance. ―Moonglade‖ in your
hands is a compilation of those epoch making stories, of only
few of them, which were published, from time to time, in the
Hilal English magazine of Pakistan Armed Forces. The idea is
to gather the epic stories of our heroes and martyrs at one
place, though just one compilation cannot suffice. We‘ll have
more in coming years. These stories encompass different
shades and phases of our war against terror i.e. the time when
there were upheavals in our country, then consequent decision
to root out the terrorism and lastly the feelings once the nation
prevailed and defeated the terrorism.

Moonglade |1
 This book presents the galaxy of not only men in uniform
but also our heroes from citizens, minority communities,
intelligence and law enforcement agencies. They laid down
their lives, shoulder to shoulder fighting, in the war against
terrorism. ―We have rendered countless sacrifices – we would
never forget our martyrs,‖ the book partly fulfils the promise
made by the Chief of Army Staff. ―I want to tell our enemies,
whether in the east or west, that your bullets will get short but
not our resolve. The blood of martyrs – be they on borders or
elsewhere – has paid off…and shall never go waste.‖

Now that our resilient and peace loving nation has gained
strength and confidence to protect its sovereignty and
solidarity, though a lot has to be done, it is time to unite
further, shun hatred and counter radicalizing minds in our
midst, and by raising our stature in terms of socio-economic
prowess and by setting out goals towards acquiring more
knowledge and competency. I am sure with this strong base
available, thanks to the sacrifices of our Shuhada and Ghazis,
we shall overcome every challenge coming our way.

My special thanks to Angela Shearer, the celebrated author

of South Africa, for writing ―Preface‖ of this book. Being in the
know of Pakistan contingents‘ selfless contributions in the UN
peacekeeping missions abroad, her precious contribution is
recognition beyond continents. I also acknowledge the efforts
of the team in making this book possible.

Long Live Pakistan!

Major General Asif Ghafoor

Director General
Inter Services Public Relations
General Headquarters, Rawalpindi
March 23, 2018

2|Moonglade
 Preface
I have learned that not being able to understand the
language of another does not stop us from understanding the
music that emanates from the chords they strike with their
actions. To know someone, we need only know what disgusts
them and how hard they will fight to right a wrong. To trust
someone, we need only know what they are capable of when
they hold great power. To respect someone, we need only know
that they respect us too.

We are coached by our communities and institutions to be

clinical in our thinking, to admire title over guts, position over
honor and money over integrity. We say one thing and do
another in the name of self-preservation, divided between the
two faces that we wear on any given day. We live in fear,
imprisoned by moral and social contracts that we loathe and
judge, yet we adhere to them even though we know they lack
foundation. In every moment that we restrain the free play of
our own powers we become more and more removed from our
humanity and wisdom.

No matter who we are or where we live in the world, man,

woman or child, we all understand love, passion and hope. The
flip side is also true. We all know that hatred, pain, shame and
fear are not reserved for one gender, one generation, one race
or one nation. These are human feelings that belong to all of us
in a variety of heights and rhythms.

Through pain we either break or grow, through loss we

either cling too hard or we learn the value in letting go and it‘s
through fear that we either rise and fight back or grovel at the
feet of our self-appointed lords.

Moonglade |3
 Any child will tell you that they don‘t need to be able to see
the monster to know that it‘s there. Sometimes, as we get older
and become more corrupt in our thinking, the hand that
reaches for us at night from under the bed becomes our own.

In a cowardly manner we remain locked in a permanent

contradiction between our dreams and the dead bureaucracies
and vain façades of our species and it is in the silence of this
paradox where we lose all sweetness in life and contact with
our deepest, most primal, self. In short, it is here that we lose
direction and with it, our true purpose and power. At every
turn we suppress and restrain our excitement, passion and
glee, losing more and more of ourselves to distraction,
cynicism, medication and hostile competition.

Those who come through the halls and citadels of this

conflicting hell and piece themselves back together, one
shattered shard at a time, are the ones who eventually break
free and make a difference. They build their own opinions and
define their own principles and values, chasing a purpose, they
become the heroes and martyrs who set the rest of us free from
our self-imposed restraints.

This book is about those winners; the selfless warriors who

make the most impossible sacrifices to resuscitate a sense of
joy and promise in everyone else. They remind us that we too
can make a difference if we‘d just throw down the gauntlet and
stand for something.

Heroes and martyrs teach us the difference between giving

up and knowing when we‘ve lost. Most times we just give up
before we even start. May the stories in this book teach us how
to stand in our own sun again, live on our own terms and start
to truly think for ourselves.

May it inspire those who hold it. May they speak up against
aggression and suppression, withhold praise and honor from
those who don‘t deserve it, and may they fight fiercely with
their hearts and minds with a universal clarity that is bigger
than any vendetta, religion or political agenda.

4|Moonglade
May this book fly high and far.

Angela Shearer
Johannesburg

Moonglade |5
6|Moonglade
 Prologue
That tall brown-skinned man was sitting on a mountain top.
Lost in deep thoughts his eyes were fixed on the city below
where millions lived on the bosom-land of their ancestors. An
all-time wanderer, that man once began his journey in search
of truth, beauty and ‗life‘ itself. He moved from place to place
and to distant lands, lived in the ‗time‘ and endured the pain of
‗knowing‘. For years he lived in silence and isolation – an
attribute of wisdom that only a few taste in life. In search of
the absolute, he finally found out that: ideals define the living
but people embody the life, too. Life which supposedly is
governed by the unbending rules is also under continuous
evolution, change and uncertainty. This clash, conflict and
contradiction between the norm and the new put things mostly
in grey than black-and-white. In this chaos lived the power of
creation as static was stagnant. The challenge was opportunity,
the pain was pleasure and the loss was gain.

The man has the power to give meaning to all known and
unknown phenomena.

He lived to know that pursuit of passion was to lead to

troubled waters, but also found out that blind alleys often lead
to hitherto unfound lands, too. Passion and courage combined
are the essence of living never matched by mere counting of
the days and years. It is beyond human dignity and ego to
permanently live in fear. The living being have the option
of free will to endeavour and conquer the fear; the fear of
unknown and the fear of death. Free will and courage together
shape new realities, construct new worlds, and the faculty of
human creation is the essence of divine creation. He also came
to know that the courage, bravery and the will to suffer and
sacrifice were deep-rooted emotions to expose to the ordinary.

Moonglade |7
On the surface these can be taught and inculcated, like soldiers
doing it for duty and comradeship, but the enduring courage is
more an act of ‗knowing‘ and conviction than intrinsic
impulses.

Too powerful are those soldiers who personify the cause

and willingly choose death over life!

The ‗knowing‘ phenomenon leads to the world where ‗self‘

loses the meaning. The ‗knowing man‘ transcends the life,
stops fearing the unseen and traverses the valleys of death with
absolute willingness. For there is no death to Nature and man
becomes the guardian rather than a meek tool of the Nature
itself. Such men of integrity and character remain committed
to the purpose and the assigned missions. They march on with
a head high, face the challenges of life-and-death and nothing
deters them; neither the foes‘ might nor is there scarcity of
resources! They move forward amidst voices of disbelief and
timidity, and bear the brunt with fortitude. They fight with
valour, die smilingly and win gracefully. The foes must know
the potential of such a body of men before testing their
resolve. For fear the men who have nothing to lose, as loss is
more a matter of perception than reality for the men of
courage and will!

The wandering man also learnt that justice, merit and

equality are the best methods to tread the life of men and
societies. The land itself has no value to be counted, but the
average happiness of the men living on it with fair
opportunities to exploit their true potentials. There is always a
need to work for bettering the lives of people. The ‗land‘ bears
the character of a mother that always endeavours to feed well,
clothe well and shelter with a sense of dignity and belonging.
While traversing the city and town dwellings, the wandering
man did notice the demagogues who clamour for such dreams.
Many have not the will nor have the dedication to achieve such
goals for others except raising their own value in the bargain.
Few did fan the romanticism for nothing else but to break the
will of the people to defend the land of their ancestors. They
camouflaged the seeds of anarchy with aspirations of freedom

8|Moonglade
and liberty; stability and order was criticised for the expression
of sham. Notwithstanding the power of idealism in matters of
wealth and opportunity, the wandering man also tasted the
power of love.

Love transcends the logic of gain!

The love of a mother does not depend on the beauty of her

child, and a child‘s love for the mother is not dependent upon
the wealth of the latter. Their love is an act of Nature and does
not count on cold logic of give-and-take. Love is such an
ecstatic intoxication that conquers fear of death and loss.
Those who love the land of their ancestors, call it mother-land;
are actually the proponents of the love that knows no bounds.
This abode called ‗motherland‘ is their identity, pride and ego.
Once the motherland is in danger, her sons respond with no
care for the foes‘ size of armies nor their wealth and arrogance
of power.

The men of courage stand firm, die in glory and live with
honour.

To fight and die for the motherland against a foreign

aggressor is a perfectly rational and enlightened choice. No
justification on any pretext should wink from this esteemed
responsibility. As long as the sovereign Motherland exists,
there remains the hope to resolve internal discord.

Once Motherland is lost, all is lost!

The wandering man on the mountain top suddenly

shuddered. He had reached a decision. He descended the top
and went down to kinsmen. He spoke to the crowds with
absolute humility and sincerity. The poor common folks in the
streets responded to his call with cheers, slogans and pledges.
These deprived yet uncomplaining men were worth gold who
refused the intimidations by the foe. These men of courage
were the pride of the land they lived in. They were absolutely
rational in their response but the very rationale asked them to
stand up, forget the differences, and choose ‗death‘ instead of

Moonglade |9
humiliation by the foe. They were ready for a long-drawn
struggle, hunger and strife! They all marched on together
being men of courage and glory. They had made their choice.

The choice was ‗Motherland‘.

Tahir Mehmood

10 | M o o n g l a d e
 Sacrifices of a Few; and
Many
Lt Gen Masood Aslam (R)

And don‘t call them ‗Dead‘ who die in the cause of Allah,
they are Alive only you can‘t understand.
(Surah Al Baqarah - 2:154)

It is so painful to relive the period when during my

command of approximately three years, we lost close to 1,500
men and officers from the Army, and the Frontier Corps alone.
It was therefore very difficult for me to motivate myself to pen
down some of those unforgettable memories of the acts of
valour and sacrifices of our brave young men in uniform – the
stories which remained hidden to a large portion of our nation.
Losing even a single soldier in the battle is not easy for a
commander but it‘s the faith in the cause that overtakes the
concern for security, and achievement of the objective becomes
supreme. Great nations remain indebted to these martyrs ever,
and never hesitate in honouring their sacrifices. It is
impossible to do justice with all these Shuhada, what to talk of
those who lost their limbs, or those who returned as Ghazis.

The security situation in FATA and KPK in 2007 is difficult

to comprehend, especially when one sees such relative peace
and security prevailing in the country today. This peace has
not been achieved easily. Hundreds of young men in uniform
under 25 years of age happily embraced death for the future of
the country (not undermining the sacrifices of our civilians as
well as senior men in uniform. Pakistan Army is probably the
only military where our Shuhada include senior officers of the
rank of Generals to a Sepoy). I am trying to share memories of
some sacrifices, which may be an eye opener for many.
M o o n g l a d e | 11
 Dera Ismail Khan is a small town on the bank of Indus
River in Southern KPK. Its close proximity to South Waziristan
makes it a sensitive Divisional Headquarters. Two young boys,
namely Atif Qayuum and Zeeshan, grew up studying and
playing together in this town. Besides being classfellows and
good friends, they were always striving to be better than the
other. After intermediate, both decided to join the army and
then were commissioned from the same course in Infantry.
Atif joined 28 Sindh Regiment, while Zeeshan was
commissioned in 41 Baloch Regiment. Atif‘s unit was the first
to move into Swat in July 2007. His unit was tasked to secure
the Najia Top height on the night of November 24-25.

This young officer with less than two years of service was
the leading platoon commander and despite the most arduous
ridgeline led his platoon through pitch dark night to the hill
top. The feature is named ―Asmani Sar‖ but Fazlullah had
named it as Najia Top (it is the highest feature in the west of
River Swat dominating the entire valley including Kabbal,
Kanju town and Saidu airport). The top was held strongly by
the terrorists who had prepared proper weapon positions.
Despite stiff resistance Lt Atif ably led his men to the objective.
He destroyed three of the terrorists‘ bunkers and was in the
process of clearing the last bunker when got hit by a number of
machine gun bursts from the flank. Though he continued with
the assault and cleared the last bunker, he fell down and
breathed his last. When his troops picked him up, he had
received dozens of bullets and his hand was still stuck on the
trigger while the barrel of his SMG and hand had also been hit
by the hail of bullets. It was the indomitable courage and
resolve of Lt Atif Shaheed that the whole formation operation
succeeded.

Reportedly, when Lt Zeeshan attended his burial, he said,

―O‘ my friend, we have always been in touch for almost two
decades and I never accepted losing to you but today you have
outshone me in the actual test‖. However, destiny plays its own
games; Zeeshan‘s unit was moved into North Waziristan
within next year. As the army had greater priorities in clearing

12 | M o o n g l a d e
Swat and handling the Mehsud threat, the environment in
North Waziristan was to be managed politically. This was to
the dismay of a large number of youngsters and officers like Lt
Zeeshan. Once clearance of Swat had been achieved to a great
extent, formation in Miranshah was tasked to clear off the
area between Gharlamai and Alwara Mandi (the area of Hafiz
Gul Bahadur, the Taliban commander in NWA). This was the
opportunity which Zeeshan had been looking for since long.

He volunteered for the most difficult task of establishing a

blocking position to deny any reinforcements from other areas
as well as acting as an anvil for the unit to destroy them
completely. He accomplished his mission but under repeated
attacks by the terrorists to link up with their bottled up
colleagues, he also received serious injuries. He stuck on to his
position but by the time the unit was able to link up with his
position, he could not survive the excessive bleeding and met
his Maker. Thus in less than a year and a half of Lt Atif‘s
shahadat, Lt Zeeshan lived up to his promise and sacrificed his
life to join his bosom friend in Jannah creating a unique
history of sacrifice by two childhood friends.

I shall now very briefly allude to a few more officers whom I

feel need to be mentioned at least. One rarely sees youngsters
like Capt Maeraj Shaheed, Sword of Honour from PMA,
Armoured Corps officer who came on attachment with FC but
volunteered to continue and was made commander of the SOG
(Special Operation Group). During May-June 2009 while
moving as reserve, he heard of his troops being stuck in
Ambeyla Pass (known as a graveyard of attacking troops) and
rushed forward with his small number of available troops.
During broad daylight he used an extremely difficult approach
to reach the terrorist bunker and destroyed it. In the process
he was badly wounded and couldn‘t survive the injuries. I also
recall Maj Zubair of 22 Punjab, while sitting in Mingora in
August 2009. The Valley is peaceful and the entire TDPs have
returned to their homes. Suddenly a report of some terrorists
hiding in the outskirt of the city is received. Maj Zubair, with
the available Quick Reaction Force (QRF), rushes towards
Nawankilli.

M o o n g l a d e | 13
 On reaching the site he finds out that some terrorists had
taken refuge in a small house. They surround the house and
ask the terrorists to surrender but no one comes out. In order
to ward off any chances of innocent casualties, Maj Zubair
decides to storm the house rather than blowing it up. He
decides to lead the charge, and breaks through the front door.
He was met by a hail of bullets but kept rushing forward.
Seeing this the terrorist blew up his suicidal vest and Zubair
took the entire blast. His troops tried to move ahead but the
officer had protected his entire team and saved the citizens of
Mingora from a suicide bomber. Zubair Shaheed was blessed
with a son a few months after his shahadat. Despite knowing
his wife‘s condition, the officer never hesitated in leading from
the front. To him the country and his men came first while his
family and self later.

Similarly, there are streams of images flowing in front of my

eyes but to wind it up, however, I would very briefly mention
the valour and indomitable courage displayed by numerous
other individuals. The Shuhada have written sagas of
insurmountable courage, resolve and valour to sacrifice the
last ounce of their blood, yet the Ghazis especially those being
severely wounded need a mention, too. Today when I see
Major General Zahid commanding a Division running around
with an artificial leg, I am reminded of Lt Col Zahid
commanding 63 FF Regiment in Bajaur leading his men
through a myriad of obstacles, mines and defence works
securing one objective after the other. In one such encounter,
he had a mishap of stepping on an IED, blowing off his leg.
Nothing deterred them from moving forward and clearing
their objectives.

I can go on but unfortunately will still miss many.

To sum up, I would like to highlight that it wasn‘t the young

officers only but a large number of NCOs, JCOs and senior
officers who made exemplary contributions. Gen Javed Sultan
Shaheed didn‘t have to fly in bad weather and visit a company
position soon after the ceasefire in Operation Tri Star. Brig
Hussain Abbas Shaheed decided to lead a platoon deep inside
14 | M o o n g l a d e
Tirah Valley to rescue the crew of a Cobra helicopter as the
challenge was too big to be left to a subaltern. Similarly, Maj
Karim of 30 FF, the Wing Commander of Ladha Fort, and the
way he defended a totally cut-off fort deep inside the Mehsud
territory for more than a month, has been etched into my
mind. I really am at a loss on how to bring an end to my
sojourn in history but would like to first pay homage to
hundreds of thousands of those brave men of army and FC
who served under me during the most challenging times of our
history in KPK and FATA.

I have no words to offer accolades to each one of the unsung

heroes – from the junior most soldiers to General Officers –
who displayed exemplary courage, grit, sense of responsibility
and patriotism in performance of their duties beyond the call
of duty. I would be amiss if I do not recognize the services of
KPK Police and Frontier Constabulary in bringing normalcy to
the province and the Frontier Regions. Though there were
numerous incidents of the policemen even stopping the suicide
bomber by embracing sure death, yet one person, IGP Safwat
Ghayyur, has to be mentioned in golden letters. This brave
policeman came as the CCPO when the terrorists had made life
difficult for the citizens of Peshawar. Despite serious
handicaps of equipment and training he infused a new life in
this force by his personal example. With close coordination of
the Corps Headquarters, soon the entire Ring Road, Badaber
and Karkhana area were totally secured. On being promoted
as IG Frontier Constabulary he worked tirelessly to reorganize
and motivate the entire force. He was in the forefront in
clearing Darra Adam Khel with his FC undertaking joint
operations with the Army troops. He was specially targeted by
the terrorists with an inside support; he attained martyrdom
through a suicidal attack just outside his office.

December is round the corner and it brings with it the pain

and reminder of the sacrifices of scores of our innocent youth
who also became unwitting victims of these beasts known as
terrorists. The incident of Parade Lane Mosque of December 4,
2009 took away from us around 40 military personnel and
their wards who had gone to the mosque to offer Friday

M o o n g l a d e | 15
prayers. They included 17 children of ages between 7 to 21
years, taking with them not only the hopes and aspirations of
their parents but also the hope of the nation. Since it involves a
personal loss of my only son Hashim, I would only speak of the
loss of Ali, the only son of Col Qaiser or Waleed, son of Brig
Mumtaz or sons of Col Shukran, Brig Sadiq, Col Durrani and
many others. Five of these youngsters were Hafiz-e-Quran.

The silent questions of the mothers and sisters of these

Shuhada remain unanswered as the nation has forgotten to
even make a passing reference of their tragedy. Besides these
young boys, even serving individuals and their fathers
embraced shahadat. I want to specially mention the shahadat
of Maj Sohaib whose only child was a disabled handicapped
daughter, who through her own determination and resolve of
her mother has completed her PhD – a fact not known to
many. The daughter of the Shaheed needs support and
recognition to lead an honourable life and support her mother.

This remembrance will be incomplete without mention of

the most barbaric and tragic incident of APS Peshawar.
Though the incident helped in forging a consensus across the
board in the nation, yet the callousness and dastardly act of
targeting hundreds of young kids of our nation needs to be
condemned widely. The loss of over 130 budding youth can
never be recovered. I would like to pay my sincere homage to
the Shuhada of Parade Lane and APS Peshawar, and offer my
heartfelt condolences to the parents and families of those
innocent kids. While paying homage to all these Shuhada I
would like to remember the sacrifices of over 70 thousand of
our innocent Pakistanis. It‘s time to show our resolve that we
shall not hesitate from giving any sacrifice to preserve peace
and stability of our homeland. At the same time, I shall like to
express my gratitude to the families of our heroes for their
ultimate sacrifice for the country. May Allah bless their homes
with greater peace of mind and heart and grant blessings in
abundance to the Shuhada. Ameen

16 | M o o n g l a d e
Times That Try Our Men
Ghazi Salahuddin

Fortunately, we have evidence that the entire nation has

come together and the national leadership has braced itself to
resolutely confront not only the terrorists but also their
sympathizers and apologists. In fact, the stage for this
undertaking had already been set by the operation Zarb-e-Azb.
It has been noted by the observers that the Peshawar APS
tragedy is a kind of confirmation of the gains that the army
operation in North Waziristan has made. It shows that the
terrorists are under great pressure. It was visibly an act of utter
desperation.

We have buried our schoolchildren and they have become

seeds. Now the challenge for us is to nurture those seeds into a
garden of peace. And this task is as sacred as the barbarism of
the terrorists was satanic.

Meanwhile, though, we have to come to terms with a

trauma that will stand out in the annals of crimes against
humanity in the world history. Time, they say, heals the
wounds. But in this initial period, every passing day after that
ignominious sixteenth of December has deepened our pain and
our sorrow. The more you learn about the details of the beastly
act, the more incomprehensible it becomes. We are numbed
with shock.

It is hard to imagine the loss that the parents, families and

friends of more than one hundred and thirty-four students and
sixteen members of the staff of the Army Public School and
others in Peshawar have suffered. Hundreds of students who
were trapped in the premises and who witnessed the killings

M o o n g l a d e | 17
have been wounded psychologically and need professional
care.

At the same time, this heartrending tragedy has touched us

all across the entire country. We have all, in a sense, died a
little. We have also seen how the rest of the world has grieved
with us. ―It‘s a dark day for humanity‖, said British Prime
Minister David Cameron.

That something like this has happened in Pakistan has its

own significance. Since it has come in the wake of other gory
exploits of the terrorists in recent years, questions would
naturally arise as to why this drift had not been effectively
checked a long time ago. After all, Pakistan has almost been
pushed to the edge of the precipice in a dire security
environment that embraces global and regional exigencies.
There have been additional specific reasons for the growth of
militancy and religious extremism in the country.

Against this backdrop, the Peshawar tragedy has the

potential of becoming the catalyst for a paradigm shift in our
national security and social development policies. It is a
moment that has to be seized by our civilian and military
leaderships. We may be reminded of what Shakespeare said
about a tide in the affairs of men that ―when taken at the flood,
leads on to fortune‖.

But this also means that the battle against the terrorists has
arrived at a point where a decisive and conclusive strategy is
required to finally mop up the debris of the past and build a
new structure that had been visualized by our founding
fathers. In the light of the Quaid‘s vision, we have to reinvent
Pakistan. The sixteenth of December is a date that has a
flaming reference to a catastrophic turn of events in our
history largely because of the disconnect between our people
and the leadership.

On this date in the year 2014, the dynamics have been

different. In a metaphorical sense, this was an attack on the
very existence of Pakistan and, for once, the people have no

18 | M o o n g l a d e
confusion about who the enemy is. This does not, however,
mean that it would be easy to defeat this enemy and to
eliminate it completely from within our ranks. We must also
understand that it is a war that will also be fought in the minds
of people.

So, while we feel assured by the united resolve of the nation

to finally eliminate all terrorists and traces of terrorism from
Pakistan, an evidence of which was readily available on the
part of both the civilian and military leaderships, a lot of soul-
searching is essential. We did have an important clarification
when the leadership vowed to go after all terrorists without
any distinction between the ‗good‘ and the ‗bad‘ Taliban.

But the big question remains: how did we arrive at this

diabolical turn of events? This, to be sure, is a very problematic
issue. This is not the occasion to go over the history of how we
were pushed into this blind alley. What is urgent, however, is
to find the strength and an intellectual tenacity to make a new
beginning in the light of what we can learn from our
experience.

Personally, I feel comforted by some recent indications that

the national sense of direction in this regard is being carefully
modified, with particular reference to the moves made by the
army. In the first place, the launching of Zarb-e-Azb in itself
indicated a clear and more stringent policy. Its successes
became a vindication of the initiative that must have been
taken after careful deliberation.

However, I would specifically like to refer to a statement the

then Chief of Army Staff, Gen Raheel Sharif, made in Karachi
only twelve days before the terrorist attack on Peshawar‘s
Army Public School. He said that Pakistan‘s current ―enemy
lives within us and looks like us‖, and elaborated that ―the
security does not refer only to external threats but is a concern
in terms of politics, human rights, economy, water security,
terrorism and insurgency.‖

We need to ponder about this formulation in the light of the

M o o n g l a d e | 19
latest developments. An obvious inference is that military
action is no substitute for political process. This also means
that the civil and military institutions must work together and
in harmony to pursue the national security that is defined in a
wider context. Essentially, the goal is to create a social order
that fosters development in all its dimensions and ensure
national security in its true spirit.

We are in a state of war but we may still have some

moments to reflect on the root causes of terrorism and where it
was that we, in a collective sense, made decisions that did not
eventually serve our national interest. It should be possible to
identify some lapses that have led to disasters. However, now
that we are making a new beginning, we need to set our goals
that conform to the original promise of Pakistan.

The enemy that lives within us and looks like us cannot be

easily defeated. Let me conclude with this Thomas Paine‘s
quotation: ―These are times that try men‘s souls. The summer
soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shirk from
the service of their country; but he that stands by it now,
deserves the love and thanks of men and women.‖

20 | M o o n g l a d e
 I Shall Fight in Your
Name Dear One
An open letter to the Martyrs of Peshawar

Feryal Ali Gauhar

The sun is soon to rise as bright,

As if the night had brought no sorrow,
That grief belonged to me alone,
The sun shines on a common morrow.

You must not shut the night inside you,

But endlessly in light the dark immerses,
A tiny lamp has gone out in my tent –
I bless the flame that warms the universe.

Frederick Rückbert,
Songs on the Death of Children (1833-34)

Dear One,

Many years ago, when I had gotten used to absences, I

realized that the numbness of the heart was only the mist
passing over the lightless homes of this silent city at night.
While I slept, the state of absence had quietly carved a
cavernous hole in my heart, a raw wound, much like those that
marked your beautiful body when life was taken from you,
brutally, mindlessly, without purpose.

Since you left, that wound has grown so much larger that
there is no heart any more – in its place there is nothing but
your absence, dear one, an absence so powerful that it keeps

M o o n g l a d e | 21
me up at night, etched into my eyelids, carved into my
memory, bleeding into my resolve to carry on without you.
You, my dear one, have taken me with you, and all that
remains now is an empty shell, a hollow vessel where only your
voice resounds, shaking the fibre of my being when I
remember each inflection of your language, each vowel and
consonant that formed words of love from your mouth.

What did you do, dear one, to be taken away like this,
mercilessly, so much before your time? It was time for us to go,
those who failed you, those who failed to see that the enemy
was amongst us, those who saw the enemy and did not
recognize its insidious intent. It was your time to blossom, to
flower, to dream your dreams in your waking hours, becoming
the capable person who would make us proud. What did you
do, dear one, to suffer this terrible travesty?

What were your last thoughts, dear one, when you

confronted the enemy? What went through that beautiful mind
of yours when the enemy showered you with a hail of deadly
bullets? Did you even have time to understand what was
happening? Did you think of calling out, to call us to come,
quickly, before it was too late? Was there time for that? Or did
it all happen in a flash, a moment which defined the all too
indelible difference between life and death? Dear One, speak to
me, tell me your last thoughts, tell me that you did not feel the
bullet piercing your flesh, that the pain did not invade the
unbruised parts of your young body.

It is your eyes that I shall never forget, the bright light of

your soul spreading itself like sunshine through the golden orb
of your eyes. Tell me, dear one, what did you see, before that
moment when that light faded from your golden eyes, that
moment when life passed out of your fragile body, your soul
wafting upwards to a safe place from where you would watch
us mourn for you, grieving inconsolably, angry that this should
have happened, that life should have abandoned you just when
you were at its threshold.

What did your golden eyes see, dear one? Did you see in

22 | M o o n g l a d e
their eyes the hatred that is but a manifestation of fear,
burning like live coals in hollow sockets where the life had
already been snuffed out by ideologues of odium? Did you see
the madness that comes from dangerous manipulation,
predicated on perceptions of deprivation? Did you see the
glory that your enemy coveted, that perverse dream that has
been offered as incentive for the heinous crime that was to be
committed, transporting not the victim but the perpetrator to
some notion of a heavenly after-life? Did you see death in the
deep recess of his chest, a mere hole where a heart should have
been? What did you see, dear one?

Tell us of the horror you faced when you peered into the
abyss of the enemy‘s eyes, dear one. Tell us of the distortions
which marked his mind like a cancerous skin enveloping all in
its diseased folds. Tell us of the curl of his lips, the snarl of his
mouth as he spat the order to destroy all that was beautiful, all
that was precious, you, dear one, and all the others who shared
your ordeal, huddled together for safety, grasping a hand
which may pull one towards the light, towards life, hunched
over in death, together for one last time.

I search the silence for your voice, your words, and I hear
nothing but my own, a dirge, a lament for your young life cut
short so brutally. I hear my own thoughts flooding my mind
relentlessly, my own fears, my own fragility poised to take
away what I have wanted to believe in: the goodness of
humans, the triumph of good over evil. I want to scream out at
this void created by your absence – I want to tear up the façade
of civility, I want to go on a rampage, hurting, harming all that
comes in my way. For where is the justice, where is the
purpose of so much senseless killing, dear one? Who shall
avenge your murder, who shall fight back, who shall banish
this monster to that land of frozen hearts where it was given
birth, more than three decades ago?

Dear One, here is something I have not shared with many. I

tell you this because I know you shall want to know why it is
that you and your colleagues in their green woolen blazers
were covered in each other‘s blood on that cold floor of your

M o o n g l a d e | 23
school auditorium. Many, many years ago, when I was a little
older than the age at which you passed from this life into
another world, I saw the bodies alongside the road of a city
many miles away from the borders of our homeland.

I saw the tanks rolling down those rutted roads and I

shuddered at the thought of what was to come: the unfolding
of an agenda which would envelop us in its dangerous design,
building on notions of power which were disguised in the garb
of religiosity. Today, that agenda has become a part of the
fabric of the shroud which covers us all, burying us in its evil
intent. Today, that horribly disfigured notion of religiosity has
become a part of our landscape where people kill each other
with impunity, where brother is pitted against brother, where
those who subscribe to another set of beliefs are burnt to death
or executed or blown up with bombs.

Dear One, you were the latest in the long list of martyrs who
have been felled in the path of this dragon which destroys
everything we have known: this is a creature which does not
know music, it does not hear the rhythm of the seasons nor
listen to bird song, to the laughter of children playing on a dirt
floor. This is a creature constructed out of greed and fed on
fear, nurtured on a repast of promised riches in an afterlife
where all that was not theirs in this world would be theirs to
claim in the next. This is a beast which does not even know its
master for there are many who feed it, with the intent to
destroy all that is good and worthy. This is a creation of minds
who hide behind secret veils, clothing themselves in the garb of
civilization. This is an enemy who was created to vanquish one
and conquer another. And you, dear one, are but one of the
thousands who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

This is a creature which has burned to death, summarily

executed, blown up into lifeless pieces of dismembered flesh,
thousands of others, young and old, women and men, children
and the aged. This is an enemy which knows no mercy, no
reason, nor no humanity. It is a beast bereft of sanity, of
sensitivity, of the sensibility of all that is sacred: life itself. This
monster has been armed with weapons that it brandishes in
our faces, threatening all that we hold dear to us. It has been
24 | M o o n g l a d e
clothed in the garments of perverse perception dictating its
understanding of the faith, denouncing all those who do not
follow its path, killing them as one would destroy a plague.

But, Dear One, it is this creature which has brought the

plague, it is this monster which needs to be destroyed, and
those who try to tell us otherwise need to be shown the face of
hate in a mirror. Dear One, let me tell you that those who you
have left behind are poised at the edge of a precipice where one
false move can throw us over the edge. We, the living, must
understand that there is a fine line between life and death – it
is the line that you stood at on December 16. It is the line at
which we, the living, stand, choosing between a life lived with
passion and conviction, or a life that is akin to death, devoid of
purpose and intent.

Dear One, I was not there to ensure that you crossed that
line towards life, but I am here to ensure I remain firmly
rooted in my conviction that in order to defeat this enemy we
must replace the idea of destruction with the idea of creation.
We must choose life over death, and unless we destroy the idea
and the hatred it has engendered, we shall have to get used to
many more absences, much as this one, dear one, which gnaws
away at my insides, hurting me each time I remember your
smile, your gentle touch, your smile, each time I see another
young child preparing for another day, another chance at life.

I ask you, dear one, to judge me by the enemies I have

made. For in this shall I find the courage to carry on with your
absence firmly etched into my soul. In this resolve can we find
the solace we long for. In this action can we heal the terrible
suffering inflicted upon us. But it is a long journey ahead of us,
dear one, one that is beyond the aerial strikes and the warfare.
This is going to be a battle of minds more than a war of
weapons, for it is the idea which feeds both life and death, and
we must ensure that it is life we feed, not hatred nor death. For
there are too many shrouds encasing the bodies of young
citizens of my bleeding homeland; there are too many graves
which mark the landscape of my anguished homeland. It is
enough now, dear one: this is a promise I make to you.

M o o n g l a d e | 25
 The Making of a Soldier
Maj Gen Muhammad Khalid

‗We created man in the best of form‘

(Al Quran)

Indeed, man was created in the best of form. The journey

from birth till adult life is an arduous one where various
factors mould, break or build the persona and leave an ever-
impressionable legacy. Fortunate are those who come across
sincere and worthy mentors or teachers. Thus, the epic journey
from a clot to a tall and successful man is possible. This
journey also unfolds tale of a momentous and deep-rooted
affiliation that lasts for a life time. Cadets upon their entry in
the Pakistan Military Academy (PMA), a training institute of
the commendable repute, are honoured with the sobriquet of
Gentleman Cadet (GC).

The word ‗Gentleman‘ is the ultimate honour for hard

training, which embeds a certain kind of character in the soul
that perseveres through thick and thin. This character
eventually produces the finished state-of-the-art product
called the 'Commissioned Officer'. During the entire process, a
deep-rooted affiliation is developed between the GC and his
training staff (Drill staff, Physical Training staff and Weapon
Training staff). The journey of association starts with the
reception at Abbottabad Bus Stand, Havelian Railway Station
or the PMA Gate. This whirlwind tenure takes the GCs through
various stages from initial briefing, kit issuance, holocaust of
trendy hairstyles to the hardcore and strenuous military
training and culminates with passing out parade at PMA‘s Rafi
Ullah Drill Square.

26 | M o o n g l a d e
 A GC is an asset for the Army who leads a spartan life
during his entire stay at PMA, marked by spotless personal
appearance, proud participation in parades and ceremonies,
high standard of military discipline and exposure to host of
challenges. A purposeful, comprehensive and colossal effort is
made from different quarters comprising a rare amalgam of
diverse specialists to shape him into an officer. The process of
transforming civilians into military personnel is a form of
conditioning that encourages the GCs to partially submerge
their individuality for the good of their unit. This conditioning
is essential for military function because combat requires
people to endure stress and perform actions that are simply
absent in normal life. May that be an academic discipline, a
tactical lesson, an athletic skill, some leadership training or a
feature of character development, it must be taught, conducted
or supervised by highly competent, devoted and inspiring staff.

In this transformation, one critical role is that of the Drill

Instructors. Their task is very tricky and challenging as they
are required to inculcate military discipline in the GCs who are
physically feeble but mentally and academically surpassing the
drill staff. Thus, the drill instructors work tenaciously from
dawn till dusk with the highest level of motivation, exemplary
standards of turnout, discipline and hearty investment of time
and expertise. They are picked up from the entire Army by a
very methodical and meticulous selection procedure for being
not only the best in their respective fields but also a smart lot,
endowed with impeccable discipline, fair and firm dealing with
the GCs.

Allah Almighty has made man in natural harmony. Our

regular gait comprises right hand‘s pendulous movement with
the left foot and vice versa. This natural instinct is polished
into a proud and graceful drill motion by the drill staff. They
look towards the cadets as newborns into army life, thus,
initial few weeks at PMA are dominated by heavy doses of drill
to instill a respectable degree of smartness in the movements
of GCs. They undoubtedly work very hard to harness the cadets
with the new necessities of martial life like salute, drill and
discipline.

M o o n g l a d e | 27
 Like a determined mother, they repeatedly teach each GC
these norms till there is need for no more hammering. They
achieve optimized results through display of professional
excellence, personal involvement and above all by own
exemplified conduct. It is always a treat to watch the Drill Staff
marching up and down smartly, erect and correct with
measured steps, correcting the basics of the drill movements of
the cadets on parade.

As the saying goes, ―There are three ways of doing a thing:

the wrong way, the right way and the army way.‖ Therefore, at
times the Drill Staff have to adopt the army‘s doctrine of
‗corrective punishment‘ to break in the GCs. These custodians
of the GCs‘ Office (place of assembly for punishment) are
always waiting for the college boys and like a razor‘s edge they
refine them into glittering gems. Thus, the towering drill staff
in their immaculate and starched uniform are always found
sporting their burly moustache outside GCs‘ Office. These
punishments are proportional to the gravity of the offense and
range from extra drill periods, reports in Field Service
Marching Order (FSMO) kit to restrictions.

Then dawns the first hurdle that a GC must pass to prove

his mettle and that rite of passage into the army life is known
as the 'Saluting Test'. It is a test of the GC's marching and
saluting capabilities as it has a lot of strings attached. Passing
it opens the gates of PMA for the cadets to avail outpass and
leave whenever granted. After grueling military training, such
a respite is like an oasis in a desert for the GCs. Thus, this test
is usually held before midterm break and is of pivotal
importance for both the cadets and the drill instructors. The
last stage is the passing out parade. It is the culmination of two
years of strenuous training and GCs dream comes true as they
march in Slow Time off the drill square, up the stairs into the
Mess Hall and instantly converted from GCs to Second
Lieutenants in the Pakistan Army. Even long after passing out,
when an officer of Pakistan Army hears military band playing,
the eyes swell up with emotions and tears, the heart begins to
beat faster and one is back in thoughts slow marching up the
lovely steps of the drill square.

28 | M o o n g l a d e
 At this stage the cadets are seniors and try to take the
liberty of relaxing but drill instructors like Honorary Captain
(retd) Muhammad Ashraf Warsi (commonly known as Shurli
Sahab), drill personified and an institution by himself, never
allowed such laxity. He made sure that every cadet's toe was in
line, arms aligned and foot stomping up to the standard while
marching. The same standards are evident at the momentous
occasions like the Quaid's Day parade, Azadi parade, Yaum-e-
Shuhada and other such events.

There maybe a paradigm shift in the military training

philosophy from time to time due to technological revolution,
but the role of drill staff had remained same throughout.
History is full of names of such silent but tall and graceful
heroes who are vibrant, dedicated and selfless in performing
their duties. Their efforts, guidance, personal examples and
dedication deserve rich tributes. I salute them; yes, I do as they
taught me how to salute.

‗Those who educate children well are more to be honoured

than they who produce them; for these only gave them life,
those the art of living well.‘
(Aristotle)

M o o n g l a d e | 29
 Among Heroes
Capt Ali Ahmed Malik

―You never seem normal,‖ looking at his impassive face,

Sara said in an inquiring tone.

―Because I don‘t fit in your definition of normal,‖ throwing

pebbles in the water, gazing at the horizon, with his thoughts
at unrest, being at par with the oceanic waves in front, his
words disappearing in the sound of splashes, still being the
only sound making sense to his fiancée‘s ears. He continued
"Someday I may meet your standards of being normal", as he
sat facing her, "Although that is a rare possibility".

"When are you going to return to my life, rather our life?"

eyes wide open, focused ears longing to hear the words that
were never coming, she gently pushed her hair blowing in her
face due to the shore wind.

"When my battle scars would heal," it was very evident from

the tone that he wasn‘t exactly present in the moment.
"Why haven‘t they healed already?"
"They aren‘t meant to."
"You scare me often."
"Do I?"
"Don‘t you see? While I am talking to you I mostly feel that ...."
"That you are talking to the walls."
"Emotionless walls."
"Time, my dear, is the answer."

Gazing at his face with her questioning eyes, she thinks of

what she might hear this time as he breaks the silence, "I can‘t
forget May 13, 2013. We were on the move to reach

30 | M o o n g l a d e
our igloo before sunrise. It was 0200 hours, six of us, tied
together with ropes, battling the harshness of weather, at
19000 feet in minus 35 degrees Celsius outside our
windbreaker suits with freezing oxygen rupturing our chests,
the blowing wind picking up snow and hitting us hard with it
making one or two of us fall every now and then. It was
perilous but we were hopeful until....‘‘ He throws another
pebble into water, his face still unreadable, eyes speaking
volumes of emotions. She looked at the wave created by the
pebble, wondering what would happen next. He wouldn't
speak much but when he did, he wouldn‘t let any other sound
make any sense to her; waves showing the unrest of ocean, his
eyes showing his...

Afraid of what she might hear, she gathered courage to

utter, ‗‗What happened there?‘‘

"We walked on the snow mass, 6 to 8 meters apart tied with

ropes, that‘s what we the soldiers do up there but it isn‘t always
firm snow. I saw it. The gust of wind struck the one next to me
this one time, and imbalanced he fell. As he hit the ground, the
snow wasn‘t strong enough to sustain the impact. It was a thin
layer of ice he was standing upon, which cracked wide open
and there he went inside the crevice. Before I could brace
myself against the snow, I felt a jerk and followed him through.
If it was not for the wits of the ones behind me, I wouldn't be
here today.‘‘ His tone had just turned more magical, she didn‘t
want him to stop now, although it wasn‘t the talk she longed
for on this particular day. He continued. "They hit the snow
with crampons which is normal practice to cater for such
eventualities in the glaciers. Bracing themselves against the
snow, they pulled the rope. Luckily, I didn‘t go inside deeper,
was on the edge and could climb back. My buddy, however,
needed to be pulled out. He was 8 meters deeper than me,
hanging with the same rope we all were tied with. I made
efforts to move out which were successful. It was the resolve
which kept us going. We pulled him out. One of his ribs were
broken, which was revealed later. He had struck something
harder down there or maybe it was the jerk he received initially
due to the tightened rope. We weren‘t even half way to our

M o o n g l a d e | 31
igloo. It were us, who had to reach the igloo at night to relieve
our comrades who were already present there and ready for
the move back the next night having completed their tenure up
there."

Ali looked at the horizon, sun going down among clouds.

The sea now becoming peaceful but he isn‘t. "In the middle of
a place where there are no signs of life, a fallen comrade
besides you suffering with pain, others with a dying morale to
see him in that condition, looking at each other to do
something that would take away the pain. Hopeless yet hopeful
eyes staring at you, I can‘t tell you how lonely you feel. Imagine
the people you never think of living a life without, think of one
of them with his head in your lap, groaning, restless and you
are helpless. You wait for some miracle to deal with this or
wish for being in a dream you would soon wake up from. These
moments shape you, whether or not a miracle takes place.
When you come out of the situation, you are never the same as
you were moments ago."

"What... like... tell me... what happened then," said Sara,

failing to utter the right words.

"Some other day perhaps, we should go home now. I have to

go meet someone," he said, getting up from the boulders they
were sitting on. He always used to say, "Don‘t stop me when I
have to go. I won‘t."

She wished she could just heal his scars, just bring him back
to life and stay with him till eternity, in her world... the world
he didn‘t belong to anymore. He would always tell her,
"Soldiers having experienced combat shouldn‘t be questioned
why they are the way they are." They got up, walked on the
shore silently towards parking area where vehicles were
parked.

Walking on wet sand, hand in hand, gazing at sunset among

clouds, contemplating nature, two other worldly souls though
together were miles apart. Waves would come every now and
then; touching their feet and making them feel the magic of

32 | M o o n g l a d e
ocean. The melody of quiet air was breathtaking. They walked
slowly, occasionally uttering a word, "Winds up there are not
quite friendly," he smiled through the words. She also faked
one to hide the pain, she knew he wasn‘t with her but with his
comrades, the ones he always wished more to be with.

"I would be leaving tomorrow," he spoke again.

"I am aware."
"I confess that I am going to miss you."
"Can‘t... you stay?," she said, well aware of the answer she was
going to receive. (After a pause) "I just wish I could!"
"We had promised to be together, no matter what happens."
"I remember and own my promises."
"Stopping you would be selfish, I know. I just wish things were
different."
"But they aren‘t...."
"But, what about me. When would I come to know your
depths? Loving a soldier is a terrible mistake they say, I think
they are right."
"You think or you want to think like this?" He smiles back.

"Not telling someone who wishes to know every little thing

about you, not letting someone heal you as they can‘t just see
you hurt, leaving them to wait for times that may never come.
Isn‘t it unfair," she pauses and looks down, "I shouldn‘t be
saying this," she murmurs.

"You can have my diary, I am somewhere in the entries and

blank pages. I will give it to you before leaving. I need not say
that I trust you."

A smile rips through her eyes brimming with tears as she

says, "You are my favorite mystery; I bet I will crack you one
day." Both laugh.

(Two Days Later)

She sat in her room with a diary in her right hand opened
across her eyes covered with glasses. She had already opened
the entries written in the month of May 2013.

M o o n g l a d e | 33
 "Naik Ikhtiar Shah has always been one of my bravest
soldiers and best companions of this journey to Siachen
Glacier. His sense of humor, encouraging words to his fellows
and his juniors and his dedication towards his military service
is something I shall always remember. When I go back from
here, I believe I will always cherish my memories of these
lifeless glaciers capping Himalayas. Naik Shah was a tall man,
measuring more than 6 feet in height. Whenever there was
snowfall, I would always see him with a shovel in his hand,
removing snow from the door of our igloo at a mid-camp
where I stayed with him for about a week or so before I could
finally move further up. This snow if not removed in time can
turn out to be a death trap. If a part of body gets exposed to the
same snow, it can result in frostbite which can ultimately
result in imputation. Life up here calls for iron nerves."

"He was lying with his head in my lap. Above 19000 feet, in
the vast mysterious glaciers offering no mercy to anyone,
temperature nearing –50 degrees, cold winds gusting past us,
a few among us reciting verses from Holy Quran, wishing for a
miracle to rescue us as I could see him fading away in my
arms. I have never had such a situation in my life before.
Military life can really challenge you in ways you can never
expect. A few were rubbing his chest, putting pressure on his
chest to make sure he kept breathing. We had no doctors to
help him recover. All we had with us were lifesaving injections
and an unparalleled faith in Almighty. We injected him with
the hope of keeping his blood circulation active."

"How is he feeling now Ali?", called Capt. Irfan, the sub-sector

commander, on wireless.
"Sir! He will make it Insha Allah," I replied.
"Be aware of the deteriorating weather, a snow storm is
expected soon, you have to make up to your post before first
light. All the best."
"Roger sir."

Half-an-hour passed by, feeling like a century. He opened

his eyes gently. It was as if life was returning to all of us. I still
wonder what would have happened if he hadn‘t survived.

34 | M o o n g l a d e
 "Shah, wake up buddy, let‘s do it again," his mate, Naik
Irfan spoke with a determination.

Shah looked at our faces, most of which were grim by now,

however, smiling at their buddy with whom they had already
lived so many stories of valor and devotion. I waited for him to
show some movement. He lifted himself up with difficulty as I
helped, and he hugged me as he got up, "Thank you sir for not
giving up on me."

"I am so proud of you Shah! Now brace yourself, you have

to reach back to your camp before weather gets worse," I could
not utter one more word.

He looked at me, the expression was priceless. It was his

turn to speak, "Irfan, I will lead on the way back." "You
stubborn idiot, obviously you will," Irfan replied smilingly.
"We lifted our packs, the journey of our guides from mid-camp
ended here. We were to meet guides coming from our next
destination who had to escort us there. While we were
helping Shah recover, the guides from our next post had
already reached our location having heard our conversations
on wireless. We hugged our buddies, said our goodbyes, waved
and moved on."

"Ikhtiar Shah and his comrades made to their camp

successfully while we also reached our destination before the
first light. I was informed on wireless that he was taken to
CMH Skardu the following morning on a helicopter where he
was treated for a fractured rib and many bruises. However, his
life was out of danger. While I write these lines, I am
accompanied by a section of soldiers, hailing from different
regions of Pakistan, who are up here at Siachen with the sole
purpose of serving Pakistan against all odds."

And the mystery started to unfold onto her as she continued

to read through the pages. The reason why he was so different
started to become clear. His experiences were not that of an
ordinary man and so wasn't his courage. Every word she read
made her more proud of the man; the soldier of this country,
the guardian of this motherland!
M o o n g l a d e | 35
 Missing You Baba
In memory of Lt Col Humayun Khanzada Shaheed

Roshan Taj

There is no greater sacrifice than giving one‘s life for the

country. I am sharing my thoughts in loving memory of my
respected and beloved father, Lt Col Humayun Khanzada
Shaheed. I was four years old when he embraced shahadat on
August 30, 1990 at the Line of Control (Kel Sector). Father is
an important figure in child‘s life as he gives great feeling of
strength and support. I was lucky enough to be able to spend
few years with him though I have a faded memory of the time
spent with him. I still remember him bringing chocolates at my
4th birthday when he held me in his hands and asked, ―When
will you grow up my little princess?‖ Today when I have
completed my M.Phil, I miss your company, Baba, and wait
for your call each moment to pat me for my achievements.

My father was commissioned in the Army Services Corps

(ASC) with 43 PMA Long Course and was Commanding Officer
of 7 Animal Transport (AT) Regiment at the time of his
shahadat. Born in a respectable and educated Khattak family
on December 1, 1950 in the Lachi village of Kohat district, my
father joined ASC following his father, Major (retd) Amir
Nasrullah, who was also from ASC.

Recalling his memories, my grandmother tells us, ―He was

the best son, a mother could ever have.‖ My mother tells me
that my father was very happy at my birth being his second
daughter. ―I want her to succeed in life and become my pride,‖
he shared with my mother after my birth. My family shares
that he used to call me with the name of Guriya, though I don‘t

36 | M o o n g l a d e
remember much of that. Baba, it gives me a feeling of warmth
inside to hear these things about you and inspires me to be the
kind of daughter you‘d be proud of. I wish I could have spent
more time with you.

Today, when all of us sit as a family, we get to look at the

photographs saved in a separate album by his name. My
mother tells that he was very fond of outings and every
Thursday night (being the weekend), he would take us out for
food or to watch movies. He was also a very good sportsman
and we used to watch him while playing football. He taught me
how to ride a bicycle and encouraged me to keep trying even
after falling down and getting hurt occasionally.

Being a family member whenever he got time, he took us

out for picnics and enjoyed firing up the grill and cooking up
steaks, chicken or fish. I remember my father lying on his bed
in his bedroom narrating me stories which I never had the
chance to listen again. He used to help me with my homework
and his valuable wisdom left a lasting imprint in my mind to
this day.

On special days like his birthday or Fathers‘ Day, I buy a

card, write him a letter, tie it to a balloon and let it go; it takes
my love up to him. Baba, I do get to make dua for you and feel
proud when people (to this very day) still talk that what a
fantastic man you were! How you always helped whoever you
could, with whatever you could. Your generosity and
selflessness were inspiring and unmatched. I have created a
Facebook group in your honour as you were everything I ever
needed in a perfect daddy. When I dream about you, I feel
happy and sad at the same time. Happy that you were in my
dreams and sad that it ended too soon.

In his last conversation with my mother before his

shahadat on Thursday late night, he enquired about me as I
wasn‘t feeling well and advised her to take care of herself and
the children. She told him that everything was going to be fine
and he shouldn‘t worry much. He replied by saying, ―the night
which is meant to be in the grave cannot come at home. May

M o o n g l a d e | 37
Allah Almighty bless you all.‖

Lastly, I know you are beside me to this day and looking

after me always from above. You are my inspiration; you are
my role model. It‘s my constant desire to be like you –
courageous, optimistic and very positive. I love and miss you
dearly. May Allah grant you Jannah, (Ameen).

38 | M o o n g l a d e
 My Brother, My Hero
A tribute to Capt Bilal Sunawar Shaheed, TBt

Lubna Sunawar

History of Pakistan is replete with the sacrifices made by

the soldiers in defence of this motherland. The world has
witnessed how our soldiers have risen to their towering heights
in defence of their borders, their land and their nation against
an enemy aggression. Our heroes have always kept our flag
high by successfully stopping the internal and external
enemies from completing their nefarious designs.

Captain Muhammad Bilal Sunawar was one such officer

who sacrificed his life for this country and made all of us
proud. Commissioned in Pakistan Army with 108 PMA Long
Course in 2003, a fourth-generation officer, Capt Bilal was
part of Operation Rah-e-Nijaat that was successfully
undertaken in 2009 by the Pakistan Army. He was part of an
operation that shall be remembered in golden words in the
history of not only Pakistan, but all great armies of the world.
Tables were turned and with minimum civil casualties, the
Taliban were evicted from that region. Peace and smiles
returned to the locals. But the price was heavy. Deep behind
the smiles of the people, red blood of our soldiers glitters.

My pen trembles as I begin to write about my brother, Bilal.

My eyes get wet when I recall his shining face. But I always
smile with pride because he rose to the highest level of grace
and laid his life. Whenever I‘m asked to pen something for my
brave brother, I don't know how to even begin to move on.
How can I? He deserves more. As a sister, I know that my
valiant brother was a very dedicated person prepared to take
any risk and face any challenge. A proud father, Col

M o o n g l a d e | 39
Muhammad Sunawar (retd) who has lost his brave son, feels
proud for Bilal‘s supreme sacrifice for the motherland. Bilal‘s
beloved mother is not alive as she passed away just a year
before his shahadat, but she must have been proud to be
known as a Martyr‘s mother today and that she instilled the
highest virtues of bravery, passion and sacrifice in her son.

When I look back at our childhood period, we laughed

together and cried together. My brother was the only person
who could finish my sentences and knew what I thought when
I was silent. Bilal was an amazing person – intelligent,
thoughtful, loving, caring, giving, and understanding. He was
my shoulder to cry on. My brother instilled some of the
greatest lessons in life in me especially after Ammi's (my
mother) sad and sudden demise. I love him and miss him with
all of my being and with all that I am. Losing a wonderful
relationship of a mother and a sibling is the hardest thing I
have ever had to deal with in my life. It is something I never
thought would happen.

While performing his duties at the time of his shahadat, he

was busy in a fierce battle with the Taliban at Pash Ziarat
(Waziristan). He kept his cool, encircled the militants and
boldly charged towards them with his troops while leading
from the front. The terrorists were completely taken aback by
the bold counter-attack by Capt Bilal and his troops. 2/Lt
Kaleem, who accompanied him during the operation, narrates,
―Capt Bilal was leading his troops from the front whilst trying
to protect his men and showed extraordinary courage to close
on a coward enemy.‖ His professionalism under pressure and
ability to remain calm in what was a chaotic situation, is
testament to his character. During the conduct of the same
operation, he was hit by Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) in
his chest which resulted in his shahadat. The troops narrate
Capt Bilal Shaheed‘s performance as ―selfless, brave,
courageous....‖ Words like these do not come close to what
Capt Bilal demonstrated that day. He will be missed by all as a
commander, but most of all a good mate. A real self-starter, he
excelled in everything that he undertook.

Bilal was my closest sibling and a best friend, a real

40 | M o o n g l a d e
gentleman with a kind heart. It‘s so painful to know that he has
gone and I keep thinking about all those things we did together
as a family. If I could be granted one wish, it would be to kiss
and hug him for the last time. Capt Bilal and his troops did a
remarkable job. They have risen to defend Pakistan from the
aggression of the enemy. They have sent a clear message to the
terrorists that they would never ever accomplish their designs.
They sacrificed their lives to defend the homeland against the
evil designs of militants. Our heroes of the defence forces are
battling with the extremists and not allowing them an inch of
the country to be occupied. The nation is proud of the sons like
Bilal, and it truly recognizes their sacrifices and respects them
for their bravery.

Bilal is still my best friend and my inspiration. He still gives

me the strength to go on when I feel I cannot. He still gives me
encouragement, advice, and strength though it maybe in his
own little way – in a dream, in a song I hear, through the
perfect sunset or blowing wind, he is still with me. We as a
family miss him each and every day. There is not a minute that
goes without him when he is not in our thoughts. And with all
of the wonderful things you taught me, you still live through
me. In everything that I do, you will always stand by my side! I
call my brother Bilal – ―my true angel‖ who has always shown
me the way in the darkness around.
As a foreign research scholar, I‘m working on ―the US War
on Terror and its implications for Pakistan‖. This has been my
foremost effort to highlight the sacrifices of Pakistan Army in
front of the diplomats, researchers and think-tanks, and have
always tried to prove the fact that our army has acted like an
iron curtain against the internal and external enemies. Capt
Muhammad Bilal Sunawar Shaheed was awarded Tamgha-i-
Basalat (TBt) posthumously for his sustained display of
conspicuous bravery and leadership. Bilal, you will be
remembered as a gentleman, as a good leader, a loving and
caring son and, the best brother in the world. The whole nation
is indebted to you.

May you live in the eternal Peace and Happiness always,

Ameen!

M o o n g l a d e | 41
Eye of the Star Shall Not
Be Robbed Away
Brig Syed Wajid Raza (R)

It was a pleasure to see young Jamal in Sialkot who had

recently joined 5 Battalion of the Azad Kashmir Regiment, a
composed and confident Balochi officer from the remote
region of Balochistan. With every passing day, he grew humble
with obvious signs indicative of brave gestures and postures.
He smiled in trouble, showed strength under duress and grew
brave by reflection.

Jamal had married in the early winters of 2016. Since their

marriage Jamal and his wife had not lived together, due to his
participation in war against terrorism. With the passage of
time, I noticed that he had grown stouter and broader, so it
was difficult to recognize the robust, smart yet slim Jamal of
earlier days.

His features had become more defined and had a calm, soft,
and serene expression. All that struck the eye was a strong,
handsome, and confident young officer. All who had known
Jamal before joining army noticed the change in his thoughts
and posture as something extraordinary.

In July 2017, Major Jamal met shahadat in a suicide attack

in Peshawar. A motorcycle-borne suicide bomber hit a Frontier
Corps Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (FC KPK) vehicle, targeting Maj
Jamal Sheran. While serving in the Special Operations Group,
Jamal had conducted daring operations and he knew that
things were scary, difficult and dangerous around him, but he
had the conviction that winning the fight is worth the chance
of losing life for Pakistan.

42 | M o o n g l a d e
 On the fateful day, the newly wedded wife of Maj Jamal had
hardly finished her packing as she was to join her husband to
live in Peshawar, perhaps for the first time after her marriage
that took place seven months earlier. Sheran Sanghoor, father
of Jamal, reluctantly stopped his daughter-in-law from
packing, as he had been informed about his son‘s shahadat.
Her hopes turned into fears, while the fears of the nation were
turning into hopes.

Sheran Sanghoor, father of Jamal, was so proud that he

dressed up in his best attire to receive the coffin of his son who
had made him so proud. As the coffin of Jamal reached his
home, a sea of people gathered to pay homage to the son of
soil, who had laid his life for his beloved nation.

When the spokesman of TTP was taking the responsibility

of Jamal‘s shahadat, he forgot that he would be buried
wrapped in Pakistan‘s flag and a similar flag shall flutter over
his grave, denouncing the enemies of Pakistan that its sons are
not tired of sacrifices.

Ideas don't come with imagination, rather realization. Maj

Jamal had thought of joining Pakistan Army right from the
early days in the Ketch Grammar School of Turbat, a remote
region that saw violence perpetrated by the foreign stooges and
enemies of Pakistan. Belonging to a traditional Baloch family
of Mir Sheran Baloch, his father had served in the Omani
Army. Jamal, after completing his higher school degree from
Balochistan Residential College Turbat, joined the Pakistan
Military Academy with 117 Long Course in Kakul, Abbottabad,
in May 2006.

His military career had been a challenging one. During the

Pakistan-India escalation in 2008 on the borders, he remained
at the forefront, and later his unit saw his daring actions
during Operation Al Mizan in the Bajaur Agency of FATA. On
joining the Frontier Corps KPK, he was picked as Commander
Special Operations Group, Frontier Corps. He led a number of
sting operations against the terrorists and enemies of the

M o o n g l a d e | 43
State, making him the real target of TTP and other terrorist
groups.

When young Jamal, on joining the Pakistan Army, moved

out in streets of his village, he was often stopped by his people,
and they would ask him, ―When would you grow higher in
ranks and construct a hospital in the village?‖ This was one
thing that Jamal‘s father requested in a TV interview, too.

It is difficult to conclude about a hero who was driven by

destiny. In army, every officer, and soldier has a place to fill in
and it is important in some respect whether he chooses to be
or not to be. I know destiny is not a matter of chance but of
choice, which changes with our thoughts and ideals. I have
seen many unsung heroes during my service who have high
aims and believe in controlling their destiny before someone
else does.

Jamal‘s shahadat is not an ordinary one, in any manner; he

defeated the narrative of the enemy that is bent upon
conspiring in the Balochistan province of Pakistan, and his
shahadat is the last nail in the coffin of the conspirators. He
fought with the enemies of Pakistan with his boots on and
while wearing the uniform, and he continues to fight while
shrouded in the Pakistani flag, inspiring hundreds of young
Baloch people to come forward, defend every inch of the
motherland and sacrifice for Pakistan.

I have been in uniform for more than three decades and I

know that heroism doesn‘t come from taking orders, but rather
it is born from the act of great Pakistani officers and soldiers
who through their own will power and courage are willing to
sacrifice their lives for Pakistan.

Perhaps we can never repay the debt of our proud nation to

those who have laid down their lives for Pakistan and best we
can do is to honour their memory so that their sacrifices do not
go in vain. Jamal‘s mausoleum, a hospital and a cadet college
around it, if constructed, can become a beacon of hope and
inspiration for hundreds and thousands who had gathered to

44 | M o o n g l a d e
pay him homage. These institutions will defeat all ill-intended
narratives of the anti-Pakistan elements using the rhetoric of
narrow Baloch nationalism. The actual Baloch nationalism is
not separate from that of the Pakistani nationalism and, Maj
Jamal‘s martyrdom for the motherland is a living shining
example of patriotism.

In retrospect, like nations, men also have destiny. Many

conflictual states couldn‘t hold against bloody attacks of
terrorism and collapsed in less than a year‘s time. This is only
Pakistan that is faced with the combined threats of hybrid wars
and fourth generational warfare for the last 16 years, and is
sustaining and winning. These great achievements of Pakistan
amidst the ‗turmoil‘ are indeed borne of great sacrifices of its
sons… of their selflessness, courage and resilience.

Listening to the proud father of the Baloch son and other

members of Jamal‘s family, I felt that Pakistan has won and
defeated its enemies.

Glorious we stood to the siege of bread,

And for long we were mounted on the back of patience.
The winds of Autumn shall not efface,
With unquenchable sighs of love, we implored.
As secretly he whispers to me, as loudly he whispers to
me…
The eye of the star shall not be robbed away.

(Omar Saleem, a Libyan poet)

M o o n g l a d e | 45
What I Wish I Could Tell
You Now
The daughter of martyred officer writes to her father

Sidra Babar Khan

Baba!

The mere four years, nine months and 23 days of my life I

spent in your presence are something I shall always cherish.
My earliest memories are of you wearing your uniform, for no
particular event but just you as a strong man in his soldier‘s
uniform. I have no idea how old I was at the time nor any
perspective of what we were doing – just an image of you
looking at me from above with a loving smile.
I have very vague memories of you, Baba, but I get very
proud when people (to this very day) talk about what a
fantastic man you were, how you made them laugh, and lent
them an ear. You were always there for people when they
needed help. Your generosity and selflessness were inspiring
and unmatched. You‘ve left people with a lot of good memories
of you. It gives me a feeling of warmth to hear these things
about you, and it inspires me to be the kind of daughter you‘d
be proud of.
Even though you left this world so early I wouldn't want
anyone else to be my father, I wouldn't trade you for the world.
I am so thankful to Allah that he made me your daughter and it
makes me really happy when someone tells me I resemble you
in some way. I am so thankful to you that even when you
weren't around, you made sure we had a steady source of
income. I still remember how proud I felt when I used to see

46 | M o o n g l a d e
my mother‘s pension book knowing you were still caring for
our needs. Similarly, whenever I fell sick and had to visit the
CMH, I felt so thankful to you every single time and even
though you weren't around all those doctors in uniform made
me feel at home. I am also very thankful for the army family
you gave me, the other day we got to attend 78 PMA Long
Course‘s get-to-gather and all your coursemates welcomed us
with an open heart. I saw a glimpse of you in them and they
treated me with as much love as you would. It was really
heartwarming to see them acknowledge us even after 20 years
of your martyrdom.
I am also thankful for the amazing brother I have, though
younger to me he protects me as an elder and has been very
responsible. You must be happy that Saif has almost
completed his Engineering in Telecom; he takes pride in
attributing himself to you as son of a Shaheed. I'm sure you are
proud of him, too.
Above all, thank you for finding the strongest woman I‘ve
ever known to be your spouse, and our mother. She turned out
to be more than you could have ever wanted. She is an
embodiment of strength, courage, and a light of patriotism.
For years, I have watched her grow with me. At that time, I
didn't know it, but now I see that she has struggled a lot. She
wanted only the best for me and my brother, and has done an
amazing job trying to fill in for you. She did whatever she could
so that we would have it all. My mother played both roles of a
mother and father and I couldn't be more proud of her; I am
sure you too would be very proud.
I count how long you‘ve been gone in the milestones, be it
moving apartments, special occasions, birthdays, getting
admissions or graduating; you have always been with me in my
heart, being my guardian angel. You are and always have been
with me at each step of my life‘s journey, my dear Dad!
I have heard that you were ecstatic when I first joined pre-
school, you made sure I was having a good time and you even
kept my first notebook with you. I really wanted to make you
proud, and because of my love, respect and the strongest urge

M o o n g l a d e | 47
to be a source of pride for you, I not only graduated with a
Gold Medal in my Bachelors but also completed my Masters
with the honour Magna Cum Laude and will soon receive a
Silver Medal. My efforts are a tribute to your love and
dedication to the country and I hope I can play my role for the
betterment of my country as well. I hope I can be as strong,
courageous, brave and as selfless as you were. Your love,
honour and integrity live within me.
A very major event of my life is coming up, Baba, I am
getting married. I‘ve found myself saying, ―What would my
Baba do?‖ with any wedding dilemmas. I wasn't ready for the
questions from vendors: ―Will your father be joining us? What
is his vision for this? Will you want to schedule another
meeting so your father can join?‖. I‘ve found myself yearning
more than ever for you. There have been so many times during
this process I‘ve looked at Maa, and thought, ―How is she
going to survive this wedding without you?‖
Even after going through many life events without you, it
still doesn't get any easier. None of that pain feels the same as
the pain not having you there on such a life-changing day and
as my wedding draws closer, the reality sinks in just a little
further. It is a very emotional time for me, and I find myself
breaking down in tears more often than ever. My heart aches
as I write this and I know going through my wedding day
without my father will be the hardest thing I‘ve ever done.
So many people, our friends and family have come forward
to be the part of wedding planning and I am grateful to them
beyond words. Our family has showered me with so much love,
your unit, your coursemates, they have all gathered as if they
were invited by you. And even though nothing can ever fill
your void, I have found you along my side on every step, it is
true when they say a Shaheed never dies because I have felt
your blessing all along. You will be there with me and with all
of us. I know how elated, proud, and excited you are that I am
about to take this next step in life. The truth is, I‘ve felt you
during this whole process and I know you are here with me
and will continue to go through life with me, just in a more
special way. I have found comfort in knowing that you are still

48 | M o o n g l a d e
and will always be there for us in every step of the way.

Your death has made us a stronger family, Baba. I now

realize that my mother, I and my brother faced all the
hardships with the courage that comes by being a part of Army
soldier‘s family. Everyone who belongs to an army family
would agree that even though it‘s a source of immense pride, it
also involves sacrifices like relocations and absences. I am
proud to be the daughter of a soldier.

With love,

Your daughter
Sidra

M o o n g l a d e | 49
 In Love of Pakistan
Epic story of Capt Akash Rabbani Shaheed

Maj Farooq Feroze

The sudden beautiful drizzling marked with mystic

fragrance brought a pleasant change in weather in the spacious
ground of Frontier Force (FF) Centre Abbottabad, where the
mortal remains of Captain Akash Aftab Rabbani (Shaheed)
were placed for Namaz-e-Janaza. The day will be remembered
for many years as everyone in the city wanted to attend the
funeral of the Shaheed, which led to a massive traffic jam; the
funeral turned out to be a bigger gathering.

A smartly turned-out contingent presented the last salute,

and the burial was performed in a local graveyard with full
military honours and traditional fervour.

It was my fifth day in Miranshah, North Waziristan; I was

trying to acquaint myself with the new environment before the
launching of Operation Zarb-e-Azb. After having brief round
of the area, I entered my office, where later on I had to spend
most of the time during my stay there. In the office, I saw a
young, fair-looking SSG officer, who was busy with his laptop,
and at the same time was getting information from another
officer sitting across the table. I greeted in a loud voice and the
young SSG Captain warmly returned my greetings with a smile
and firm hand grip. His broad and curious eyes were looking
quite attractive on his face. I sat beside him on the sofa and
saw his name tag ―Rabbani‖ on his commando uniform.

The other officer left the office for a while and we started
informal talk. ―Rabbani is your name,‖ I asked referring to his

50 | M o o n g l a d e
name tag on his chest. ―No sir, this is my surname; my name is
Akash,‖ replied the Captain. ―Where are you from‖, I asked not
knowing the reason of my curiosity and taking unusual interest
in his personality. ―Sir, I am from Abbottabad, I passed out
with 123 PMA Long Course,‖ he replied. We kept discussing
various aspects of the upcoming operation over a military-style
tea break until the other officer returned. Capt Rabbani stood
up and told him about the marking of all important locations
on the maps and offered his further help if needed.

As he left, a stream of thoughts took me to the probable

outcomes of the operation, which also included martyrdom to
anyone of those young soldiers and officers, who were
determined to crush the ugly head of terrorism. Pakistan Army
was all set to start the operation in North Waziristan Agency
(NWA), which had been turned into the epicentre of terrorism
and hub of dreaded criminals, for the last one decade or so.

Capt Akash Rabbani, along with his Commando Battalion,

had reached Miranshah three days before we met for the first
time. This short and memorable meeting established my
strong relationship with the Captain. We would meet almost
everyday as the operational activities were getting momentum.
After the air strikes in various areas of North Waziristan,
ground offensive was launched on 30 June to clear the area in
Miranshah. Butt Marka was the last place known as the most
notorious hideout of the terrorists in the city and Rabbani's
Battalion was given responsibility to clear that area. It was July
8 and I reached there to embed my camera team with the
troops so that live operational activity can be recorded. I saw
Capt Rabbani, who was leading troops from the front. He
warmly hugged me with a smile on his face after the operation
was completed.

In the next phase of the operation, on July 15, in Mirali,

Capt Rabbani was assigned, again, a mission to clear off the
area from the terrorists. Towards completion of the assigned
task, he led his men from the front and in the due course of
time, embraced the elevated shahadat while fighting fearlessly
against the terrorists. He undoubtedly wrote a glorious chapter

M o o n g l a d e | 51
of Zarb-e-Azb with his blood and left a lasting impression for
others to follow.

I was listening to Dr Aftab Rabbani, father of Capt Akash

Rabbani, who was throwing light on various aspects of Akash‘s
life in a very composed and dignified manner. Akash was born
on October 20, 1990. He was very witty, sharp and intelligent
right from his childhood. His elder brother, Dr Danish is doing
house job at Ayub Medical College, whereas his younger sister
is a student of 2nd Year in the same college. Dr Aftab told that
his father was greatly inspired by Allama Iqbal. Therefore,
when Akash was born, he was given this name keeping in view
the depth and universality coupled with a sweet sense of
romance.

Following the footprints of his family, Kashi (nick name of

Akash) also scored high marks in his Matriculation and F.Sc.
exams; he had a chance of clinching a seat in medical college to
become a doctor. But, the destiny had evolved him to bring
laurels for his parents as well as for the country, in a unique
way. The profession of arms turned his ultimate passion into
his destiny. His performance was remarkable during the
training period at the PMA. He was commissioned on April 19,
2011 in 47 Field Artillery, which was stationed at Kharian at
that time. During the basic courses, his performance remained
outstanding, but his motivation took him to the Special
Services Group (SSG) in order to pursue his career. He joined
SSG in 2013. After carrying out successful training, he joined
the 4 Commando at Tarbela. His unit was tasked to spearhead
Operation Zarb-e-Azb in the North Waziristan Agency.

Recalling his memories, the grandfather of Capt Akash

Shaheed, Dr Aftab Rabbani, who happens to be a professor of
medicines in Ayub Medical College, Abbottabad, said, ―Kashi
was a loving son, a caring brother and a sincere friend. He held
a large social circle of friends, that now feels his absence and
shares his cherished memories.‖ Expressing his feelings Dr
Aftab said, ―at the start it was very difficult for us to reconcile
with the reality that Akash was no more amongst us, but soon
the respect and privilege we got because of his supreme

52 | M o o n g l a d e
sacrifice from the people of the area, and especially from his
fellows and colleagues in the Army, the great sense of pride
and honour replaced the sense of his absence. We all, Akash‘s
mother, and other family members feel proud of him. He has
become our introduction and identity.‖

While concluding, he uttered with grief and sorrow that he

felt pity for those who confuse the nation regarding our fight
against terrorism, ―which obviously aims to undermine the
sacrifices of the sons of soil.‖ He urged the nation to stand
united and come at the back of the armed forces so that a
lasting peace can be secured for a prosperous and progressive
Pakistan.

M o o n g l a d e | 53
 The Pride I Witnessed
Sadia Sattar

Resilience,
Bravery,
Fearlessness,
Is the forte of Pakistan Armed Forces,
Courage,
Valour,
And
Precision,
Are their traits,
When it comes to any evil eye,
Towards the defence of the Motherland!

On a beautiful morning of 23rd March 2017, I uttered these

words expressing my heart and soul. It was not a part of TV
commentary I was doing, but these were like articles of faith
for me.

Never did the thought cross my mind while doing anchoring

in front of the mirror since I was a toddler that I would ever be
a TV host of the 23rd March Pakistan Day Parade. It was a
position far more elevated than what I ever dreamt of in my
whole career. All the childhood memories were alive as soon as
I got a call to be one of the commentators for this very special
event. I remember the days when the Pakistan Day Parade was
done near the Presidency. The sensational national tracks,
enthusiastic commentary and marching steps of Pakistan
Army always gave me goosebumps.

Year 2015 was the first time that the military parade was
conducted after a gap of seven years and so was historical for

54 | M o o n g l a d e
the very same reason. Being part of that memorable event is
one of the most cherished memories of my career till date.

2017‘s is the second one. Sitting in the commentary cabin

from rehearsals to the final day was a unique and
incomparable experience that could never be elaborated in
words. Right in front were the portraits of Quaid-i-Azam and
Allama Iqbal with green flag in the middle, fluttering high in
the sky.

There was the march past of the flag bearers with their
immaculate steps and I could feel the resolve depicted in every
step, while holding the green flag with utmost respect and
love; I felt that their feelings were very relatable to mine
feeling the same for the "parcham"... a feeling of doing
everything possible and impossible to keep the green flag sky
high till the last drop of blood.

Each contingent one after the other marching with same

zeal and enthusiasm shook me deep within, making me wish I
was a part of them, right there in the parade ground. The
moment SSG (Special Services Group) troops marched in, I
had to hold my breath literally... their Allah Hu slogans gave
shivers and touched the core of the heart.

All the valiant soldiers and officers who sacrificed their lives
in Operations – Zarb-e-Azb, Rah-e-Rast, Rah-e-Nijat and
others – in the most treacherous and difficult terrain of FATA,
those guarding the snow clad high peaks in Siachen, along
Kashmir border, those who fought and defended Pakistan in
all wars with India, all those families and mothers I
interviewed to date were flashing back throughout the march
past. I could feel that this spirit is unstoppable and more
resilient with every passing day to make Pakistan a secure,
peaceful and prosperous country for those who would be living
their lives in this beautiful land. Pakistan has defenders who
are matchless; their resolve and their will to defend the
motherland is undiminishing and unconquerable.

At the end of the parade we met Maj Gen Tahir Bhutta,

M o o n g l a d e | 55
GOC SSG, who led the tri-services SSG free fall paratroopers‘
team carrying the green flag in high skies. Amazing when it
came to the skill and precision! These are angels – defenders
of my country who descend as a wrath from above on the
enemies of my motherland. When we went to meet him, the
way he greeted us is unexplainable, with the love and fatherly
affection, the way he appreciated us for our minor efforts in
the commentary cabin was extremely encouraging and
memorable. We, too, felt as if we were part of these defenders
of Pakistan.

I asked him that he got injured a day before and still

managed to do the free fall jump on the final day, his response
was that when his men were doing it, he was supposed to lead
from the front and he did that. Leadership is nothing but
leading from the front especially for the officer corps of
Pakistan Armed Forces.

I felt in the deepest core of my heart that Pakistan is in the

safest hands as I saw the leadership at its best.

Incontrovertibly no power on earth can undo Pakistan.

56 | M o o n g l a d e
 Pride Resides in the
Bosom of Anguish
A soldier had died „In the line of duty‟

Tahir Mehmood

The little boy with the schoolbag on a shoulder was trying to

catch the man moving ahead of him. The man was moving
with a normal pace; a father that was to lead his son. But the
son was too eager to match the pace that was little more for his
tiny steps. The father used to carry the schoolbag but not for
many days as the son wanted to lower his burden. The father
dreamed for the days once his son would relieve him from
much worries of life… The father had gone old, and son turned
into an exuberant youth. Life was filled with hope; but the
hope was to die soon. The day came, and the young soldier‘s
casket was wrapped in the national flag. He had died ‗in the
line of duty‘.

----------

He fought bravely but death was the final bid for honour.
The father was too old to cry aloud, but his worn-out heart was
struck too deeply. He wept bitterly – but in sighs with rolling
tears of silence. He had dreamed for his son to lead him in life,
but his casket was leading the procession to the burial ground.
He was proud to have a son like him – the pride will live with
him till his remaining days, but the son‘s beautiful smile had
been lost forever.

----------

A year ago, she was giggling, chatting, laughing and living

M o o n g l a d e | 57
with pride. It did not take her long after finishing her studies
to marry a soldier. The soldier was a handsome lad; an
enthusiast in fun and mischief, but stone-faced ‗in the line of
duty‘. It was customary for him to present flowers to his bride.
The garlands of red and white roses made life a joy never to
end. But, fairy tales always have ‗the end‘. The soldier‘s grave
was laden with flowers; red and white roses. He had died ‗in
the line of duty‘ and even not bothered to look back for a while;
not even for his bride that had become so fond of him. So
deceptive are the smiles and tears that bear the burdens of
soldiering.

----------

The soldiers are trained to die; they die willingly but their
loved-ones become living-dead due to their sudden departure.
The soldiers enter into the heart with a bang but leave quietly
on unknown journeys never to fall back. The girl now visits the
grave daily, and places garland of roses on the grave that the
man once had gifted her. Her life has become an empty page of
the book, nothing written on it to be read by life anymore. The
soldier was her pride; both in life and in death. But the tears
were unstoppable forever! He had died ―in the line of duty‘.

----------

The two old women were sitting side by side; not far away
from a fresh grave. One had just lost the valued jewel of her
life. A soldier had died ‗in the line of duty‘. The old lady cried,
wept, laughed and fainted time and again. Her sequence of
anguish was changing every time but not the anguish itself.
The son had died in defending the motherland. The soldier had
died to keep the honour and glory of the mother and sisters.
The pride was overwhelming and so was the gloom! One loves
not to depart but to live together forever; but not in the case of
soldiers. Their love is intense and so is the pain.

The second lady was weeping too, but trying hard to allay
the anguish of her friend through self-assuring whispers. She
wanted to utter few words but her talk was empty. Her heart
was sinking as her soldier-son was too on the battlefield. It did

58 | M o o n g l a d e
not take long for the ‗news‘ to reach. Her son had died ‗in the
line of duty‘, too. The two women now drag the wounded souls.
The motherland is proud of the sons who sprinkled their blood
to save her pride and honour. Pride resides in the bosom of the
anguish!

----------

They were all continuously on move while chatting and

laughing. They were young comrades-in-arms – the soldiers.
They all looked towards the commander‘s face, which was grim
and determined. He nodded his head silently and the soldiers
moved with quick steps to cross the ridge line that brought
them face-to-face with the enemy. This time they were silent
but not stopping at all. Probably they could sense the fate but it
was not ‗them‘ to shy away from approaching death. Sooner
the ‗lead‘ was flying all across making many to kiss the ground
forever. They fought valiantly amidst death and falling bodies
of the comrades-in-arms. They silently looked at each other‘s
face with fainted smiles, but eyes beaming with pride; of dying
for the cause much bigger than the mortal life itself. ‗In the line
of duty‘, they died with a pride to live in the memory of their
brothers and sisters forever!

The nation remembers the fallen soldiers, but with

diminishing pride and anguish each year. The remembrance
days are gradually celebrated with much fanfare but lack soul
of the cause, pride and anguish that once defined their pristine
sacrifice. The fallen soldiers are a memory that once lived on
the face of the earth that today personifies life and peace; all
that came not through embellished talk but blood offered
silently ‗in the line of duty‘.

----------

The soldiers would always go the battle zones. Life will go

on; and so would the pride and anguish. The soldiers deserve a
silent prayer, a rolling tear, and a solemn remembrance by
those who live on the beautiful land that was once marred by
blood, sweat and toil!

M o o n g l a d e | 59
 Wedding Bells Rhymed
by Call of Duty
Ayesha Farooq

―Seven years have gone by, upheavals have been endured,

damage has been caused to vicious extremities, the nation‘s
morale is touching the lower apex while there is still a lot to
bear; rejuvenation is needed. Pakistan will witness the
National Day Parade once again!‖, decided the armed forces.

For sure, Pakistan witnessed the breathtaking showcase of

its military might on 23rd March, 2015, revamping the spirits
altogether. What happens behind the curtains is often kept in
the shadows, the fact that the ones decorated in their shining
armours are also humans is time and again overlooked; they
are exceptional and yet ordinary is typically a neglected reality.
At time however, few individuals work out their ordinary
affairs in such an incomparable fashion that leaves no choice
but to accede the distinctiveness.

One fine morning, a young lady officer in khaki uniform,

with plans to start off with her ‗wedding leave‘ found out that
the contingent of the lady officers, for the first time in Pakistan
Army‘s history, will march past for the National Day Parade.
Her former Commanding Officer told her, ―As soon as I saw
the orders, I imagined you to lead.‖ She took a quick walk
down the memory lane remembering her maternal grandfather
and an uncle leading the 23rd March parade in her childhood;
the journey back to present was filled with perplexity. The
more she discussed it with people, the more disheartened she
felt. A week had gone by but the disarray laid steady.

60 | M o o n g l a d e
 ‗The Parade is happening after seven years, but you get your
wedding day once in a lifetime too. The Parade is where you
can proceed to maintain the family tradition of leading it, the
wedding is when you will start a new family‘, the rapid-fire
question-answer session in her mind kept going until she
decided to call the one woman she brought all of her
motivation to do the best from, her inspiration, her devotion,
her beloved mom. Her mother reminded her who she was;
enthusiastic Capt Sana Nasri – the first female officer in the
EME Aviation, passing out as Course Senior Under Officer,
one of the best debators, and was part of the first batch of
female paratroopers of Pakistan Army, quite clearly someone
who aptly fits in the category of a steeled, sturdy and robust
lady.

The reassurance did the trick. The girl had found her silver
lining; who gets the parade and the wedding together?
Managing both seemed almost impossible. Never did anyone
that she had known of till date, had done it, but that‘s what
Sana bagged was always what seldom did.

By the time she reached the parade ground for rehearsals

after a week of bewildered thoughts, preparations were on the
full swing and files had already been set. With a sinking heart,
she got herself placed at the very last. Having always spent her
time being on the lead, knowing she did the finest drill, the pill
of staying at the back being the best was hard to swallow. Sana
recalls it as a divine intervention that the eyes of the officer,
who was monitoring the parade, caught her. He recognized her
dedication for call of duty observing that hers was the uniform
adorned with a number of laurels in the contingent thereby
placing her forward as one of the guides. She performed the
drill after seven years of her service. Her heart was now at
peace, partially, for somewhere she was still uncertain whether
she would be able to get the chant of wedding bells and
melodies of parade ground, composed in a rhythm or an
objectionable beginning of her wedding life awaited her. The
former happened.

She flew all the way to Karachi on the night of March 12 for

M o o n g l a d e | 61
her very own wedding that was scheduled for March 14, 2015.
Soon as it ended, she boarded the first plane with her husband
back to Islamabad to join the rehearsals of Pakistan Day
Parade, leaving her parents, siblings, nieces and nephews
behind and joined the tough schedule again. Full dress
rehearsal was scheduled on March 21, which was not an
ordinary day. It was the one when everyone expected her to be
absent, for in the evening of the very same day was the last
function of the wedding; the valima. But how would it be Sana
Nasri, if the suite that she is going to follow, is the one that is
anticipated. She had reached the parade ground by 5 a.m. with
mehndi on her hands, leaving everyone well astonished. She
stood under the sun for hours just like her fellows baffling over
the commitment she had. She did the march past just as
superbly as a female soldier would. Upon getting enquired
what she was doing in the parade ground while she should be
getting ready for the valima, her response was simple, ‗No
wonder valima is important, but duty is a duty, much more
important in fact, and putting service before herself has always
been her way.‘ By evening, this young lady was all set to walk
the aisle with her husband. She was contented; she had done it
all; gracefully enough, maintaining the tradition of being the
third generation joining the 23rd March parade and raising her
mother‘s head high.

This incident leaves a question mark for those who believe

that weddings cannot be conducted without creating the
frenzy; from the time shopping sprees begin to the event day.
Have we, by ourselves set up a fence around us? Does wedding
really mean everything else has to stop or is it just another one
of our own whims? Latter certainly. As fortunate it is to have a
history 1400-year old manifesting the beauty in sobriety, we
are just equally or perhaps more inclined to not only being
extravagant but also losing sight of rather vital matters
associated with the event. The emphasis to prepare for the
wedding is more than it is on the marriage while what has to
last for the years to come once the knot is tied is not the event
day. Not only does the society need to set its priorities right,
but also young individuals who plan to marry, have to realize
that they must not let their conscience be moulded by trivial

62 | M o o n g l a d e
standards. Moderation will lead to triumph, here and in the
Hereafter.

Lastly, Capt Sana leaves a message for all the girls, ‗Balance
what you have at hand, keeping your faith in the Almighty,
believe in yourselves. He helps those who have their intentions
right. You must follow your passion rightly and religiously, pay
no heed to what deters your morale but only to take it as a
challenge. Know it, sky is not the limit.‘

―First, they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they
fight you, then you win.‖ And keep winning...

If there is a way, I shall find one...

If there is none, I shall make one...

M o o n g l a d e | 63
Keep on Fighting Our War
A brave woman‟s letter to her soldier husband

Maryam Imran
Dear Husband!

Ever since I wedded you, I have never seen your spirits to

falter; it would be very naïve to ask you traditionally about
your spirits, but I hope you are in the best of your health. I and
our baby are also doing great, looking forward to see you soon.

I thank Allah Almighty for granting me the pride to be your

wife, a soldier‘s girl; a soldier who is doing his part for our
motherland. The pride of being part of your life and your sweet
memories is enough for me to bear this time without you. The
strength I hold in the darkest of hours is your echo. Though
you are away but every now and then I close my eyes to
remember your ever-smiling face. I always hold my head high
and suppress my tears when I think of you. The day you left, I
saw you mounting your jeep and driving away while waving at
me; that is a memory embedded into my mind permanently. I
know one day I will see you driving that jeep back to us.

We are doing well and you don‘t need to worry about us.
Little Amna has now become very active and sometimes stands
in the balcony to salute all men wearing uniform. She looks so
adorable while doing so. She believes her father is the bravest
of all and she keeps singing patriotic songs. She has made
great plans for this Independence Day, she wanted you to be
here, but I told her that you are protecting our National Flag
from an evil witch, she somewhat believed. She has decorated
the complete balcony with little national flags and persuaded
me to buy her a green and white dress. She is such a doll.

64 | M o o n g l a d e
 I hope you might be having better plans for the
Independence Day. What better can one offer his or her
country and nation than to get rid of the nemesis that has
encroached into the veins of our motherland? Don‘t you worry
about us, do what is to be done. It melts my heart when I see
innocent people suffer daily at the hands of these terrorists. If
God has given you a chance to extend His Justice, then brave
up and ensure this chance is not lost and return victorious. We
are proud of you and so is our nation.
Back here, all families of our regiment have developed a
unique spirit of friendship. We visit each other very often and
it feels of being related by blood. We find comfort by sharing
with one another, our joy and sorrows. I have told all the lady
wives that looking after our children at home while our
husband fights for an esteemed cause and staying strong is our
Jihad. We all pray for your well-being and men fighting beside
you. Hopefully our prayers will bear fruit and you and your
comrades will be back here safe and sound.
I have bought a suit from my favourite designer. I have kept
it in the closet till the day you will return. I will wear it and will
take you to your favourite place to dine. Now you have the
extra motivation, I suppose things will find a better pace. We
are waiting for your safe return.
I want you to always remember that you are the source of
happiness in my life. You make me so complete; it is beyond
words. I love your wit, your charm, your ability to make me
laugh even when tears flow heavily from my weary eyes. You
are my best friend, my strength and my breath.
I have big plans for the future, so many places to see and
shops to attack. Come home soon, and write back sooner. I
know times are hard but as Allah says, after every hardship
there is ease. Stand tall and soon it will be over. We will be
looking forward from your side. Take care of yourself and your
men, may Allah Almighty guide you to victory.
Your Ever Loving Wife
Maryam

M o o n g l a d e | 65
 A Tale of Two Martyr
Brothers
Naila Inayat

Lieutenant Colonel Amer Baig Mirza and Major Umar Baig

Mirza embraced shahadat in years 2005 and 2009,
respectively. Their families, today, carry the spirit of
martyrdom and the resolve to sacrifice even more for Pakistan.

These days it has really become difficult to keep up with the

mass media debates on defining a ‗traitor‘ – the practice of
labelling one as a traitor as opposed to a loyalist has become
the norm of the day. Sometimes the mere use of terms like:
‗martyr‘, ‗patriot‘, ‗nationalist‘ etc., blurs their actual meaning,
and as a nation we're experts at doing that. For instance,
ironically though, the most-quoted figure of at least 51,000
people, including over 3,500 security personnel, killed in
terror acts in Pakistan since 9/11 attacks remains a lifeless
figure for many. Of course, yet it is a worrisome moment for all
of us as a nation.

In our villages, towns and cities, we come across many

families who have lost their dear ones, for no other cause but
while defending the motherland. These families make us proud
due to their unflinching faith in the country, and in the cause
for which their loved ones chose to die happily. These families
are always seen determined to carry on with the mission of
defending the country and it values the way their loved ones
who sacrificed happily while serving the country.

One such family is that of Maj Umar Baig Mirza and Lt Col
Amer Baig Mirza, brothers of the Commandant ‗Command

66 | M o o n g l a d e
and Staff College‘ Quetta, Major General Shahid Baig Mirza.
All the three brothers were commissioned in 11 Punjab
Regiment – a Battalion that their proud father, Lt Col Abdul
Haq (retd), was also part of. ―Both of my martyred sons and
my eldest son Shahid were passionate about joining the army
and wanted to follow their father. He was one amongst the
prisoners of 1971 War and young Amer used to say that he
would join the army to take his father‘s revenge from Indira
Gandhi,‖ tells the proud mother, Zaib-un-Nisa.

―I remember Amer got his arm injured in the earthquake of

October 8, 2005, but he kept working for the rescue operation
without taking rest. Amer and Umar were both much
passionate for shahadat and that they loved Pakistan more
than anything,‖ she added. Zaib-un-Nisa shared the grief of
losing her sons, ―it is unexplainable to lose your children but
then I feel proud of being the mother of courageous sons who
sacrificed their lives while serving for the country. Even their
wives are to be commended for putting up such a brave face in
the difficult times and bringing up the children in such a nice
way. I am proud of them,‖ she said. ―Though Umar was
younger to Amer Bhai but both were very close to each other,‖
tells Asma, wife of Umar Baig (Shaheed). Recalling the
earthquake of 2005, Asma tells that they were stationed at
Bagh, where Lt Col Amer and Maj Umar were serving in the
same unit, 11 Punjab. ―The families of all the officers were
pulled out immediately and a week later, on October 15, I was
in Rawalpindi when Umar‘s helicopter crashed,‖ her voice
begins to tremble.

The helicopter was on a relief mission and Maj Umar Baig

Mirza was guiding the pilots to reach to the affectees. It wasn't
the first mission for young Umar who had done several relief
operations since the October 8 earthquake. Although Umar
wasn't asked to go but he volunteered to accompany on the
pilot‘s request for a difficult mission in an uncertain weather.
Lt Col Roghani, Capt Alamdar and others who embraced
martyrdom in the crash shall never be forgotten because of
their devotion to duty. ―Initially it was very difficult to come to
terms with the entire situation, my children were too young

M o o n g l a d e | 67
and one is never ready for untimely death. But I got strength
with the passage of time and by realising that my husband died
for a cause – he saved many lives in the relief efforts – his
country was his only passion,‖ she says.

Lt Col Amer had always romanticised shahadat and ever

since the death of Umar he became very expressive about his
thoughts on martyrdom. ―When I got married to Amer, within
a few days he had started talking about his desire of shahadat.
When he joined the military, he not only spent time at Siachen,
but also volunteered for the Kargil War in 1999, but he didn't
get a go-ahead then,‖ says Aniqa, wife of Amer Baig (Shaheed).
And then on May 27, 2009, an explosives laden vehicle
rammed into the gate of ISI office in Lahore that resulted in
the death of at least 26 people and injuring many. Lt Col Amer
Baig Mirza was one of the two ISI officers who embraced
shahadat in the incident. ―If there is anything that has kept me
strong in tough times is the way Amer carried himself after
Umar Bhai's shahadat. He was very calm and composed and
kept the entire family together. For Umar‘s family, we moved
to Lahore so that we could be around the children. I had seen
him cry for his brother all alone but in front of his mother and
rest of his family, he put up a strong demeanour – and that has
exactly been my inspiration ever since Amer left us,‖ she says.

Both Asma and Aniqa (both are first cousins) tell that their
sons, 10-year-old Ahmed Umar and 17-year-old Adnan Amer
are passionate to join the army and someday will wear the
uniform. As mothers, where it is definitely a proud moment,
but then the lives of officers are so tough that their families
often find themselves in difficult situations.

―It has been a tough journey as a wife of an army officer and

I can‘t begin to imagine how it would be as a mother, if at all
Adnan decides to follow his father and his uncles. But I will
always support him and there is no doubt about that,‖ says
determined Aniqa. ―For Ahmed the image of army is still
something that he can relate to, the only memory of his father
because he was only one-and-a-half-year-old when Umar died
and today all he has are the memories and the great work that

68 | M o o n g l a d e
his father and uncles have done for Pakistan,‖ says Asma.
Owing a debt of gratitude to such valiant sons of Pakistan,
April 30, also known as Yaum-e-Shuhada (or Martyrs‘ Day),
the nation commemorates to pay tributes to such unsung
heroes who died for a cause – a cause to defend Pakistan at all
costs.

M o o n g l a d e | 69
 My Martyred Brother
Ali Shahzad

It was 1315 hours on September 24, 2016, an unusually

sunny Saturday in Beijing.

I had just returned to my dormitory after attending an

exhibition held by the different clubs in my university. Had I
not been exhausted from the guitar I played alongside my
crew, I would have loved to spend the whole day over there. It
was a jolly good day filled with memories I had made through
my interaction with the Chinese students, expanding my social
circle. Unusual to my routine on a weekend, I decided to take a
mid-day siesta. My last thoughts, as I would remember,
comprised of how thankful I was to my God for giving me all
the success and happiness a person of my position could
possibly desire.

And then the clock struck 1718 hours. As per norm, I swiped
my finger across my mobile to check the time. Incidentally, I
also decided to share some of the pictures of the exhibition on
social websites. And then I saw a message sent by an old
colleague from Pakistan.

―I have just come to know that your brother has ejected

from his aircraft. I hope he is safe‖. ―You‘re damn right he is
safe‖, I thought to myself. I had suddenly realized that I had no
remaining balance in my mobile phone, hence there was no
way to contact my father in case of an emergency, unless he
had a live internet connection in Pakistan. The sun was setting,
and I remember everyone rushing to the makeshift prayer
rooms we had set up in our dormitory. I rushed to a friend‘s
room, grabbed his mobile phone and returned to my room for

70 | M o o n g l a d e
making the call.

And then the hammer dropped. As my father would

describe in a melancholic tone, my only brother (Flight
Lieutenant Umer Shahzad) had embraced martyrdom in an F-
7 air crash during a routine exercise in Peshawar.

There was no one else in my room, since everyone was

either busy with maghrib prayers or fixing up a meal in the
dormitory kitchen.

The first thing I could think of was to muster up the courage

to offer my prayers in my room, including the longest bows I
have ever made to the Almighty. All my spoken and unspoken
prayers must have shaken the clouds. And then, after 30
minutes of fully absorbing the news and coming out of shock, I
realized that I should call my room-mate and get help.

―Talha, please come to the room. I need some help,‖ I called

my room-mate.

―Coming in a minute,‖ he replied. And then he was the first

one I broke the news to.

―Talha, I am not in a position to book my air tickets. I can‘t

think clearly. Help me, please.‖

There is a problem with the flights from China to Pakistan;

only 3 flights in a week and all of them on weekdays. How was
my air ticket booked? Who called the taxi to the airport? How
did I keep my composure (with no one else)? And how on
earth was I able to attend my brother‘s funeral and burial
service in Lahore in the next 24 hours? Only Allah would have
the answers to these questions. The truth of the matter is that I
had to find a connecting flight to Lahore from Beijing, with a
6-hour transit time in Abu Dhabi.

As a student striving to open my eyes to the world, I have

always struggled in finding inspirational personalities to learn
from. Alas! Who knew that I had the biggest example right

M o o n g l a d e | 71
beside me? I had to face the most difficult flight plan ahead, so
I kept my mind calmly occupied with the thoughts of my
brother‘s personality, and what I had just lost.

I had lost my best friend.

Flt Lt Umer Shahzad was born in Lahore on July 19, 1990.

He was 26 when he embraced martyrdom. He was the eldest of
the two sons of Air Commodore Asif Shahzad. He was
intelligent, well-disciplined and a friendly person, always
acquainted with most of the people around the block. And
there‘s a possible explanation to this too; Umer was talented
on nearly all levels, so he appealed to large number of people
from different backgrounds, with different tastes. No matter
what kind of lens is used to gauge the personality of Umer, he
would always stand out from the crowd.

He had an academic strength about him. He always stood in

the top 3 positions in his class. He broke all records in his
college with his A‘s in the GCSE O‘ Level. And honestly
speaking, he was one of the best teachers I have had the
pleasure to learn from. As a younger brother, I would inherit
all of his important ‗notes‘ in the school, and he would always
be ready to give me a crash course whenever I needed one.

Umer also had a liking for performing arts. His acts and
plays were still remembered among the senior faculty of his
schools and residents of the Air Force bases. One of his feats of
acting, called the ‗Little Man‘, also went viral on social media
websites. He was a self-taught guitarist, and similar to many
things, I also learned this art from him. I remember Umer
alone, having enough confidence to participate in all of the
local gigs with his own musical band called the UKS.

Umer was also an honourable sportsman and a fair

competitor, too. During our two years stay in England (from
2003 to 2005 due to my father‘s postgraduate education), I
clearly remember my brother winning all sorts of trophies,
while playing cricket in Cranfield University. His coach was
very much impressed by his performance, to the point that he

72 | M o o n g l a d e
even decided to approach my father one day, seeking
permission to recommend Umer for the county
cricket. Football, basketball, volleyball or any other sport,
Umer was not only a participant in such activities, he would
also prove himself to be a true captain leading by example.

I will never forget his tears of joy, as soon as he received his

call letter to join Pakistan Air Force. It was one of those
moments (as described by most of the successful people in
literature) where a person receives his calling towards what is
destined for him. Now that I think of it, Allah definitely had
much better plans for him. Indeed, there‘s a lesson to be learnt
here for the youth.

He exhibited peak performances after his induction in the

Air Force. At PAF Academy Risalpur, the senior cadets would
always describe Umer as a true specimen of a 'Gentleman
Cadet'. His strength in the academics, physical fitness,
discipline (and all the qualities that are required for a good
officer) combined with his management and leadership skills,
earned him the award of the AUO (Academy Under Officer, the
most prestigious appointment for a cadet in the academy). On
completion of his training as a Pilot Officer from the PAF
Academy, Umer also won the General Service Training
(GST) Trophy as well as the Sword of Honour, due to his
exceptional performance as a young cadet. For anyone not
familiar with the jargon, these are the most prized awards in
the PAF Academy, a dream of every cadet enrolled. But Umer
was destined for a place much higher, indeed.

Even during his service as a Flying Officer and Flight

Lieutenant, Umer‘s senior officers were always satisfied with
his learning curve and adaptability to the profession. He was a
true leader, a humble man to work alongside, as described by
his course mates in the Air Force. Come what may, no one ever
doubted in his ability to lead. On a personal note, I always
thought that at his time, he would make a great Chief of the Air
Staff, and I always motivated him to do his best in the line of
duty, and become the best!

M o o n g l a d e | 73
 In September, his squadron arrived at PAF Base
Peshawar for an exercise and Umer visited our home in
Peshawar. Perhaps it was the fate that brought him to see our
parents for the last time before leaving. The last wash received
by Umer‘s green flight suit was given by my mother herself.

After the crash, his body was brought to the CMH

Peshawar. It was a closed-casket funeral service, which was
attended by the highest-ranking officials of our armed forces
including the three services chiefs. Former Chief of Army Staff
Gen Raheel Sharif expressed his feelings to my father saying,
―Asif, you know that I have become the Chief of Army Staff, yet
my mother still remembers my Shaheed elder brother, Shabbir
Sharif all the time. You have suffered a great personal loss, but
you have also been honoured by the Almighty to be the father
of a Martyr. Never lose sight of this lasting pride."

The funeral prayers were offered multiple times in various

cities including Peshawar, Lahore and Quetta, the home base
of his squadron. His body was taken to be buried in Lahore
with a service procession to our uncle‘s house. It was the same
house in which we had celebrated Umer‘s engagement to our
uncle‘s daughter. Plans were in hand for his wedding next year.
Alas! Carrying my brother‘s coffin from the same house where
we had plans to celebrate his wedding was devastatingly
painful. I pray no one suffers this way; it is too tragic for
human souls to bear.

Umer‘s funeral was the only event that I was able to attend
2 hours later after landing in Pakistan. I had to say goodbye to
my brother before I could say anything to anyone else in
Pakistan. It is not a coincidence that he has been buried very
close to the airport (a place echoing with the thunderous sound
of the turbo engines every now and then) alongside some of
the greatest martyrs of our country. Many brave soldiers have
laid down their lives for our great nation, Pakistan.

The frequent postings of our parents in the armed forces do

not allow us to settle in a particular place for a very long time.
Therefore, I would like to imagine that most of the people like

74 | M o o n g l a d e
me do not get the opportunity to have solidified friendships
outside of our homes a lot. Therefore, on a personal level, I
have not only lost my only sibling, but also my best friend!

But interestingly, I still feel Umer‘s presence around myself,

reassuring my faith in a verse about the martyrs in my
religion ―And do not say about those who are killed in the way
of Allah, they are dead. Rather, they are alive, but you
perceive [it] not" (Baqarah, 2:154). For the last 6 years, we
have never lived in the same place anyway. Although he is now
away from my sight, I still feel that my brother is just a call
away.

‗If a man can bridge the gap between life and death, if he
can live on after he‘s dead, then maybe he was a great man.‘

(James Dean)

M o o n g l a d e | 75
 Martyred in Captivity
Mrs Maj Hussain

Enter Summer 1972 – a son of this soil anxiously paces in

his room, engrossed in his thoughts when he is startled by a
knock. Before he has time to think, the door opens. On seeing a
familiar face, he heaves a sigh of relief. ―You have a package,‖
murmurs the delivery boy as he drops it and runs. He does not
know but this is the highlight of the soldier‘s month. Overcome
by excitement he leaps towards the box, opening it ever so
slightly. Joyous yet cautious, completely aware of how
precarious the situation is. One misstep and it could be the end
for him.

With his back to the door, he pulls out the contents – a

book, a fresh pair of clothes and some sweets. Tears well up in
his eyes, it all smells of home. He holds the book to his chest as
he rummages through the clothes. There has to be something,
he thinks, not ready to let go. He sticks his hand in the pockets,
and they meet something. With trembling hands, he unfolds
the picture he had just pulled out. A defiant tear escapes his
eyes as he stares at the picture of his newborn. In this moment
he feels like captive; captivated by the beauty of his daughter‘s
face.

The jubilation in his heart knows no bounds, for

expressions such as these keep his hope unscathed. This is the
story of many of our country‘s daring men who have sacrificed
their lives for their motherland. Below is the account of one
such son of the soil.

Let me acknowledge the efforts of Pakistan Army, which has

recognized the sacrifices of its men to the optimum. Though

76 | M o o n g l a d e
due recognition to earlier Shuhada had always been there, yet
the motivation and ownership in the present era is above par.
My husband PA-6776, Major Muhammad Hussain of the
Ordnance Corps, succumbed to the torture by the callous
enemy and eventually laid his life during the captivity after the
1971 War in Meerut, India.

This unsung hero gave his life for the nation in the most
perilous situation. This story began on March 4, 1942 when
Maj Muhammad Hussain was born in a military family of
village Buchal Kalan, District Chakwal. After receiving early
education in Chakwal and Karachi, he joined the Pakistan
Military Academy (PMA) Kakul with 27 PMA Long Course in
November 1960. Upon graduation from PMA he joined the
Ordnance Corps in April 1963. His first posting was to Quetta
followed by stays at various places in Pakistan. On October 30,
1970 while serving as a Major, he was deputed as an ATO in 9
Division HQ, Kharian. Soon after taking over the post, the
Division moved to East Pakistan.

As the 1971 War ended, the officers and troops were sent to
various camps in India. One such camp was Number 40 in
Meerut where Maj Hussain was imprisoned. At home, Maj
Hussain was assumed missing until his name was published in
the POWs‘ list.

Although a detailed account of the day-to-day occurrences

is not available, yet many of Maj Hussain‘s colleagues
elaborated on his general routine at the camp. Coupled with
the few letters received from the officer it can be inferred that
the general behaviour of the Indian army towards POWs was
cruel. In captivity, the officer was often taken to unknown
places. However, what he endured there was neither shared by
him nor the perpetrators. According to fellow captives who
narrated on return, Maj Hussain would often complain of
headaches and stay quiet for hours. This was in stark contrast
to how his friends and family knew him – as a jovial and lively
individual.

All captives at the camp were fed substandard foods,

M o o n g l a d e | 77
despite having received clear quality standards and
instructions from World Health Organization (WHO). The
food they were fed was mixed with grinded pieces of glass due
to which many officers developed serious health conditions.

As a result of the torture inflicted on the officer, he

developed some health issues. According to the letter received,
meningitis took him over. However, according to his fellow
POWs, it was not a natural disease but was inflicted upon him
through various tortures and other medical means. Maj
Hussain was admitted in CMH Meerut on May 15, 1973. He
was unable to identify faces at first; on May 17 or 18, he went
into coma, and on May 21, 1973 he passed away. He sacrificed
his life but chose not to succumb to the demands of his enemy.

Maj Muhammad Hussain left behind a wife and a three-

year old daughter. He embraced shahadat and became a
source of motivation and strength for the Army and his family.

His funeral was held in the Muslim graveyard at Meerut

after which he was buried there as ‗Amanat‘. At that time, it
was declared that the body would be returned to the family
later on. In accordance with the promise, efforts were made by
his family to get the body buried in Pakistan but the request
was denied by the Indian government. Today, I, his wife and
my daughter, find not his grave to meet him but know well that
his soul must be around in his beloved Pakistan. The Indians
were cruel then to kill a helpless POW, and cruel still to deny a
grave to the family of a Martyr!

78 | M o o n g l a d e
Behind the Enemy Lines
Maj Abdul Wahid Danish, an ISI officer, embraced
Shahadat while valiantly fighting against terrorists

Lt Col Fahd Bin Sultan

On a pleasant afternoon of October 1997 at Jhelum, a tonga

entered from the main gate of 46 Supply and Transport (S&T)
Battalion and stopped in front of the unit office area. A tall
handsome young man with thick moustaches dismounted with
a typical black military trunk. Most awaited, second parental
officer of the unit, Second Lieutenant Abdul Wahid Danish,
had arrived. All the officers of the unit including myself
received him. It was the beginning of a journey that
culminated at his shahadat on February 7, 2014. He was an
upright, straight forward and clear-headed officer with an
abundant courtesy. His conduct and approach towards
professionalism was quoted as an example for the young
officers.

With a sober sense of humour, his light jokes would always

make us laugh. The battalion was desperately waiting for
Major Danish to take over the responsibilities as next
Commanding Officer being parental officer, as he was being
considered in the Promotion Board-2014. We both spoke to
each other on February 7, 2014 at 1445 hours to know about
his willingness to assume the command of the unit. Calm and
contended as he was, he said, ―Sir, as Allah wills‖. I tried to
convince him to give preference to his parent unit. He
promised to call me at night or the next morning. I was not
knowing that that morning would never come. Next afternoon
I received a phone call, not from Danish but about Danish. I
could not believe; he was fighting for his life in the Intensive

M o o n g l a d e | 79
Care Unit (ICU) of the Combined Military Hospital (CMH), in
Lahore.

To my luck, I was in Rawalpindi and went to see him with

all the hopes and prayers. All his memories flashed back while
crossing the river Jhelum; my lips moving faster, praying to
Allah for his life. As I reached the hospital in Lahore, I saw Maj
Danish lying straight, unconscious. The flowers outside his
room, the people visiting him and all well-wishers were
praying for his long life. Seeing the pain in the eyes of his
mother, brothers and family, I recalled his association with his
family.

Maj Danish was a responsible son, supportive brother,

affectionate father and a caring husband. His day would start
in a routine with light mood, his daughter Ayesha normally
patting his back and giggling. Overflowed with love, Danish
would tell his wife, ―My day has begun.‖ There were days in
routine when his family found lunch awaiting them, ordered
by Danish. When asked by his wife, the caring reply would be,
―I thought you should relax today.‖

On the fateful day of his shahadat, his wife asked him about
his wellbeing as a routine at about 1745 hours, and his reply
was, ―All OK. Pray for my success. Allah Hafiz.‖ It was last
conversation between the husband and wife. Allah had decided
a higher pedestal for him and a test of endurance for the
family. Danish had carried out many successful operations
during his two-year tenure while being in the ISI and had
given serious blows to the anti-state elements and saved many
lives. Few days before his shahadat, he was working on a few
elements closely linked with the terrorists. In order to nab
them and their masters, he encircled the terrorists in the
surroundings of Khanewal on February 7, 2014.

While he was trying to arrest them, he was hit by a bullet in

the head from a point-blank range. Maj Danish fell on ground
and the terrorist tried to run away. The cover force deployed by
Maj Danish followed the terrorist, who ultimately blew himself
up before being arrested. During the encounter, one extremist

80 | M o o n g l a d e
was killed while the third one was apprehended. Maj Danish
was given first aid treatment in District Headquarters Hospital
Vihari and was evacuated in a helicopter to the CMH, Lahore.
He was in a state of coma and was operated upon immediately,
however the doctors declared next 48 hours crucial for him.
After two days, he gave few positive signs, and breathed for 50
seconds without ventilator.

Next day he moved his head and foot when a wet cloth was
put on his eyes. In the similar struggle to recover, his health
kept deterioriating while doctors declared his brain clinically
dead. All were waiting and praying for a miracle to happen but
Allah had planned an eternal life for him in Heavens. He left us
at 2055 hours on February 16, 2014 for the highest award.

Maj Danish had saved Punjab from yet another tragic

incident by laying down his life. He was different and unique.
He lived like an example to be quoted and gave his life for
Pakistan. He is the hero of entire nation. May Allah be with his
family and his son Awaiz and daughter Ayesha. In recognition
of his services for the country, the President of the Islamic
Republic of Pakistan conferred him ‗Tamgha-i-Basalat‘
posthumously on March 23, 2014.

M o o n g l a d e | 81
 Too Young to Die!
Advocate Fizza Malik Shaheed became victim of
terrorism while defending the law

Capt Kanwal Kiani

The sunrise of March 3, 2014 was usual for everyone but

not for the few families of Islamabad whose dear ones had left
homes for routine work but were destined to leave this world
forever. Tariq Nasrullah Malik and his family were one of
them. The family could not even think of receiving the
shocking news about the sudden death of their daughter,
Advocate Fizza Malik, who had left home for the court to carry
out her routine law practice. When she had woken up on
March 3, she was an aspiring junior lawyer and in a couple of
hours, she became the ―breaking news‖ all over the world. ―We
were praying for her safety after hearing the news of the blast
but it was hard to accept that my angel who said goodbye a few
minutes before with the promise to come back soon, had left
forever,‖ shared Mrs Tariq who lost her only daughter Fizza
Malik when the terrorists attacked the District Courts in
Islamabad, killing 12 innocent citizens and injuring over 30.

―She was the asset of my life and much of my dreams and

hopes were associated with her. After losing her, I have
questions to ask from these terrorists and religious extremists.
She never harmed anyone and did not deserve such kind of
death,‖ added Mrs Tariq with tears running down her face.
Fizza Tariq Malik, 23, was the youngest and the only sister of
Saad and Ali. A law graduate (LL.B) from UK, she wanted to
pursue her career in Pakistan. She had an option to start her
practice in Dubai but she was devoted to work in Pakistan and
was often heard saying, ―the quality of leadership skills and

82 | M o o n g l a d e
cultural diversity I have learnt and experienced through my
degree has provided me a platform to become an agent of
optimism for change in my society.‖ ―It's high time that we
need to put an end to the barbaric acts of the terrorists. For
how long will people keep losing their loved ones? What future
do girls have who get foreign education and wish to serve their
country? Will they ever be provided adequate security in a
society where terrorists roam around with licence to kill
anyone at any time? If these questions are not answered now,
time will never forgive us,‖ said Saad, Fizza Shaheed's elder
brother.

Fizza‘s elder brother, Ali, was equally sad. He also

expressed his sentiments, ―Being Muslims we believe that
martyrs are alive, so I want to tell Fizza that we love you and
we miss you so much. We feel like a part of our heart and soul
is lost.‖ Her family recalls her excitement and at the same time
nervousness, at the time of the interview for obtaining practice
licence as a lawyer. She wanted to be a criminal lawyer, not
knowing that before stepping into her field of choice, she will
become its prey one day.

Fizza was the first one who received bullets; one in neck and
the other on chest. This visibly proves her valour that even in
the time of mayhem, she was daringly facing it. President
Islamabad High Court Bar Association Mohsin Kayani while
recollecting his memories about Fizza tells that she was full of
energy and wisdom; she lost her life in an attack by the
malicious elements working against Pakistan. I wish I could go
back in the past and take Fizza along to the High Court that
day, Kayani sighed with whom she worked since November
2013.

Madiha, another victim of the attack who saw Fizza alive for
the last time told, ―I will never forget the very first day of my
professional life, that started with great fervour and ended
dreadfully, the day when I found and lost forever, a friend, a
colleague to be, with whom I had just started to move around
in the court.‖

M o o n g l a d e | 83
 Fizza was ready to go to obtain the degree of LL.M from UK.
While applying for the programme, she wrote about herself:
―My struggle became my strength to strive for success. I
wanted to diversify and practise law to be able to implement
changes. But challenges came my way yet made me tough and
I fought through my medical problem of Retrobulbar Optic
Neuritis. I wasn't one of those who are born with a golden
spoon but I was definitely one with the outlook to achieve one.
I continue to learn to the best of my abilities and pursue for
higher education to attain my goals, high quality of education,
diverse culture and skills that will make a difference.‖

―My daughter was very gentle, loving and caring…have

always been very supportive to everyone. I can't say anything
about the people who snatched our pleasure from us, they are
also children of someone,‖ said Mr Malik in a low bewailing
voice. I ask the government and concerned authorities to take
action against her assassins and bring them to justice. She was
the youngest in the company with a lot of positivity, energy
and ambitions evident through her sparkling eyes, one of her
former colleagues told, with whom Fizza worked in a UK based
customer service firm.

The Malik family broke down in tears several times while

sharing their daughter‘s memories and it was really very
difficult for us to console them with mere words of condolence.
To glorify the sacrifice rendered by their daughter, the family
has decided to form ―Fizza Trust‖ with the theme, ―Every Life
Counts‖, aiming to help educate Pakistani women in the field
of law.

Pakistan is passing through challenging times. Hundreds of

Fizza(s), Aitazaz(s), and Talib Hussain(s) have become victim
of terrorism and religious extremism. I don't know how much
more bloodsheds we have to see, but if we stand together
against these terrorists and start calling spade a spade, we may
see our motherland free of the radical elements and
extremism.

84 | M o o n g l a d e
 Gul Zada: The Citizen
Lt Col Mehar Omar Khan

This is not an obituary. Obituaries are for the dead and

hasn‘t God said, those who fall for His cause and the cause of
humanity never die? This is not a tribute either, for no words
have the glow befitting the glory that is selfless service to one‘s
nation. This is but a soldier‘s humble salute to an
extraordinary citizen; an outstanding son of the hills where I
now serve. This is a song written to the soul of a hero who
didn't want any medallions for the sport that would ultimately
claim his life. And it is hoped that as the song is sung, its beats
will be heard by all who, without wearing any military fatigues
or ribbons, desperately fought and honourably died for the
idea that is the Quaid‘s Pakistan.

Pedantic treatises on counter-insurgency suggest that

armies can't win such wars without support of the people. Gul
Zada's work in life, and his glory in death, proves that people
are actually the army. It is more so in our case. For over a
decade now, we have been locked in a seminal struggle against
forces that aim for the very jugular of our collective ideals and
aspirations. Our enemies are brutal in their tactics and
insidious in their narrative. They prey on the minds and bodies
with equal ferocity. These bands of what some call ―the fourth-
generation warfare‖ (4GW) know no morality and respect no
law. They use society‘s networks to pulverize the nation from
within. They operate amongst the people and exploit divisions
and fault-lines within the communities only to ultimately take
the same societies apart and rule over the ruined homes and
broken hearts.

The only sure way to decisively defeat such enemies is for

M o o n g l a d e | 85
the people to offer no chinks, no exploitable wedges. It does
not need a lot of thinking. It only needs a will, on the part of
every man and every woman, to vigorously protect their
freedom, to lead their lives without coercion and fear. It needs
Gul Zada‘s spirit; his unschooled but mighty heart. It is only
when the citizens‘ spirit combines with the soldiers‘ skill that a
nation comes out victorious against the menace we have been
facing.

It‘s all easier said than done because patriotism is a surreal

emotion that is invariably and entirely one-sided. The object of
this love is a nebulous, immaterial idea called varyingly as
one's land, one's country or one's nation. The lover goes on
loving without expecting, with any clarity, a return of the
feeling. Hundreds of thousands of brave men and women live
and die in the name of that boundless, bottomless, endless
love. Gul Zada gave life for Pakistan. To men like our Gul Zada,
patriotism often means love of one's faith and family, blood
and belief, honour and esteem.

It's about one's ownership of that small home on a big hill;

those lush forests and green terraces; healthy cattle and noisy
children; and a bright moon over shimmering snow. It‘s about
all those little things that, when threatened, acquire an
untradeable place in one‘s heart. It‘s about being master of
one‘s own destiny; about being the captain of one‘s own soul. It
is when those seemingly vague, individual feelings of many are
collected into one pot, that a brave, proud and undefeatable
nation is born. And hence perhaps, a brave nation needs the
incorruptible soul of many like Gul Zada.

Gul Zada never claimed to fully understand the scope and

scale of the challenge facing our nation. He didn't care much
about the academic intricacies of the term ―patriotism.‖ But he
was always rock solid in defending his ancient right to have his
way on his hill. He was unwilling to submit to the ruffians and
rascals masquerading as ―custodians‖ of his faith and his
tradition. Around the fall of 2011, Pakistan Army‘s pursuit of
the Tehrik-i-Taliban Swat (TTS) thugs arrived at the farthest
edge of our sovereign territory in Upper Dir. The terrorists

86 | M o o n g l a d e
couldn‘t find a lasting toe-hold in the entire Dir region mainly
because the local populace was unwilling in the face of all
threats to let their homes become bunkers for the bandits. Gul
Zada was amongst the bands of hundreds of local patriots
willing to fight and die for what was considered as their prized
tradition of unwavering resistance against the threats to their
freedoms. Just a couple of kilometres inside Pakistan, Gul
Zada‘s home sat atop a wooded hill in a small village called
Sunai. The lore says that the village had been named in the
memory of a Hindu lady, Sunai Bai, whose high quality lassi
(yogurt drink) was a riot in the area.

The village thinned out into a ravine which gradually

narrowed and climbed into a pass before rolling into
Afghanistan. He thus lived right inside the mouth of danger.
The treacherous and wooded pass offered an easy entry and
exit route to his enemies just across the border. Our enemies in
this area included more than half a dozen proclaimed
offenders from Gul Zada‘s own village. These felons went on to
become the disciples of the mad mullah notorious for dealing
once in radios and now in roadside bombs. The criminal law-
breakers now claimed to be fighting for the banner of that
greatest of all law-givers, our Prophet (PBUH). Any one of
them could, on his day, attempt on Gul Zada‘s life. This,
however, never deterred him from doing what he thought was
the right thing.

He worked hand in hand with the Army. He patrolled his

area, organized his kinsmen and dominated the passes used by
the terrorists for infiltration into Pakistan. His watchful eyes
pried for any unfamiliar faces in his area and his prompt
reporting led to countless successful responses against the
terrorists. Over time, Gul Zada became a one-man army in
support of our deployment. And this was enough to make him
a rather high-value target for the terrorists.

On October 12, 2012, Gul Zada came to the nearby military

post to have a cup of qehwa with the Army Officer he called his
brother. In the evening, just as the sun set on a million trees
across Dir changing colours before dropping their crumbling

M o o n g l a d e | 87
leaves, he left for his home. He wanted to say his evening
prayers with his son, a sixteen years old boy who, Gul Zada
would often proudly say, was taller than him. On the way, a
coward lay in ambush to take the life of this brave-heart. In a
dark, thickly forested corner of the trail, he was hit. Incessant
bursts of AK-47 rained into his chest and ripped him apart.
The enemy quickly crawled back into the safety of what is the
―sovereign‖ state of Afghanistan. Gul Zada, the lion-heart, lay
dead in a pool of blood. The village of Sunai Bai had lost its
bravest son. Early next morning, he was buried next to his
father‘s grave.

Exactly a year after his death, in the face of approaching

winters, Pakistan Army has established itself on the heights
that have choked the murderers‘ routes forever. Hundreds of
the village folks worked with the Army day in and day out. A
police check post now operates from within Gul Zada‘s village.
Dozens of schoolchildren chant national anthem every single
morning, literally from within the hearing distance of where
their hero was martyred. To the chagrin of the maniacs, this
anthem is the one written by Iqbal for the nation of Quaid-i-
Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah. As the vermin who killed our
citizen sulks across the border – homeless and condemned
forever – Sunai Bai‘s village has moved on.

Gul Zada‘s son, now even taller, regularly meets with the
Army Post Commander his father called a brother. He travels
back to his home unarmed. Never again will anyone, at any
dark, wooded corner of the trail, dare to cast an evil eye at our
people. While the counter-insurgency treatises may say what
they will, a nation‘s enemies are routed only when people
become the army. And like it happens in an army at war, Gul
Zada‘s son has taken over the emblem from exactly where his
father left. The results of the duel between Gul Zada and his
enemies are unmistakable. Like all fights between the right
and the wrong, the right endures. Gul Zada‘s son is the owner
of his home, his hearth, his hill, his pride and his destiny. A
grateful nation celebrates his sacrifice. The killers of Gul Zada
continue to lead the faceless lives of thieves in others‘ country,
on others‘ lands and in others‘ homes.

88 | M o o n g l a d e
 Christians Who Laid
Down Life for Pakistan
Azam Mairaj

Since the creation of Pakistan, the Christian sons of soil

never hesitated to sacrifice their lives for the defence of
motherland. They always stood shoulder to shoulder with their
Muslim brethren to shed their blood for the noble cause of
defending Pakistan. The pioneer of this caravan is Younus, son
of Qaisar, who hoisted the green flag at Pando Hills during the
Kashmir war in 1948.

The Christian defenders have always given a firm shoulder

to their Muslim countrymen whether it was Kashmir War of
1948, Pakistan-India wars of 1965 and 1971, Kargil War of
1999, or the ongoing War on Terror. They always fought on the
front foot whenever the beloved homeland called them for the
duty. According to the ‗Shuhada Cell‘ of the GHQ, so far 52
Christians have sacrificed their lives for Pakistan, from
Pakistan Army alone excluding PAF and Pakistan Navy. It is
also encouraging to know that out of 70 Sitara-i-Jurat of PAF,
seven are Christians and, out of seven, two embraced
martyrdom. Younus, son of Qaisar, from 16 Punjab Regiment
showered his blood at Pando Hills; Pilot Officer Novan
Theodore Fazal Ellahi embraced martyrdom at Attock; and
Flight Lieutenant Edwin gave his life on duty while flying the
F-6 aircraft at Quetta. Out of 140 martyrs of Gayari (Siachen
Sector), four were Christians namely Asif Masih, Amoon Gill,
Adil Masih and Naveed Masih.

Squadron Leader Peter Christy was among the pilots who

retaliated with full force during the 1965 War. As a Flight

M o o n g l a d e | 89
Lieutenant, he was navigator of B-57 Canberra aircraft and
remained part of many successful operational missions. To
honour his bravery and professionalism, the Government of
Pakistan awarded him ‗Tamgha-i-Jurat‘ and promoted him as
Squadron Leader. As the 1971 War started, he was on
deputation with the PIA and was called back to his parent
department, PAF. There were reports of air attacks on Karachi
and this important city had to be defended at all costs. A Do-
or-Die (DoD) mission was planned, the Christian Base
Commander of Mauripur Base, Air Commodore Nazir Latif,
gave a detailed briefing and two men volunteered for the
mission – Squadron Leader Khusro, who had earlier retired
from the Air Force but was called back, and Squadron Leader
Peter Christy.

On the morning of December 6, 1971, both headed for the

mission in B-57 bomber aircraft. While returning from the
mission, a surface-to-air missile hit their aircraft and both
embraced martyrdom. The Indian Air Force did not verify this
incident and they were declared ―Missing in Action‖ and later
‗Martyred‘.

Wing Commander Marvin Lesley was commissioned in

1954. During the 1965 War, then young Flt Lt Marvin Lesley
Middle Coat (known as Commander Lesley) was deployed at
Masroor Base Karachi. When the enemy attacked Karachi, he
was among those flying the F-86 aircraft. He destroyed two
aircraft of the Indian Air Force (IAF) and was known as
―Defender of Karachi‖ for his bravery and professionalism. At
Lahore Air Base, he was given the charge of 9 Squadron where
he held the spirit of his troops high by leading from the front.
He flew 17 sorties and three photo reconnaissance missions.
The government awarded him ‗Sitara-i-Jurat‘. It is noteworthy
that he left his attractive deputation at Jordan and voluntarily
rushed back to Pakistan as the 1971 War started.

On December 12, 1971, together with his colleagues when he

completed his mission, an Indian MiG 47 Squadron attacked
them. He took a lower flight and saved his aircraft from two
missiles but when he reached near Gulf of Kuchh, another

90 | M o o n g l a d e
missile hit his aircraft. According to IAF, Flt Lt Bharat
Bhoshan Soni, who hit his aircraft, saw him ejecting from the
aircraft and falling in the deep sea and asked the headquarters
to send a rescue team. When the rescue team reached,
Commander Lesley was found nowhere. He was declared
―Missing in Action‖ and was again awarded ‗Sitara-i-Jurat‘.

On the same day, on December 12, 1971, another young

man aged 19 was writing the story of valour with his blood.
2/Lt Daniel Utarid volunteered for the most difficult task when
he passed out from PMA, Kakul, and went to a deployed unit
in Sylhet, East Pakistan. On the morning of December 13, 1971,
his Company returned from a night-long difficult mission. As
he was having breakfast, he received the news of the enemy
attack on a platoon of 31 Punjab that bore heavy losses. He got
his soldiers ready and immediately reached the front. He was
severely injured during an encounter; three bullets were
removed from his chest during the surgery. He requested the
surgeon to give those bullets to his mother as a souvenir. He
was recommended for ‗Sitara-i-Jurat‘. Capt Michael Wilson
fought the enemy at Chamb Sector in 1971 War and got injured
in a tank accident on November 21, 1972 and later embraced
martyrdom.

Since the beginning of War on Terror, the Christian soldiers

have participated shoulder to shoulder with other Pakistani
soldiers. The Martyr of Nawazkot, Major Sarmas Rauf,
Tamgha-i-Basalat, is one of them, who sacrificed his life for
the motherland. He got commission in 1987 in 44 FF and out
of 20 years of his service; he spent 17 years in the border areas
of Sialkot, Kashmir, Siachen and Waziristan. He never
preferred his personal comfort over the defence of country.
Maj Sarmas Rauf was serving at the Line of Control during the
Kargil War 1999. He was posted from 44 FF to FC NWFP (later
FC KPK) on January 3, 2006.

Ever since the start of Operation Al Mizan, 3 Wing Bajaur

Scout had taken part in it and destroyed many important
hideouts of the extremists. When his wing took the
responsibility of Nawazkot, Maj Sarmas Rauf proved a strong

M o o n g l a d e | 91
leader against the miscreants. Four days before his
martyrdom, an important terrorist commander, his son and
several accomplices were killed in an operation. To take the
revenge, the terrorists laid siege of Nawazkot post and blocked
the routes of supply. Under his command, the soldiers put up
great resistance and caused major losses to the enemy. During
the same operation, he was hit by an RPG 7 round. He initially
got injured and due to excessive bleeding, passed away later.
The martyr was awarded Tamgha-i-Basalat.

While documenting these sacrifices by Christian Martyrs

and achievements by Christian Ghazis, I have full faith and
conviction that the Christian sons of this soil have proved their
worth whenever they are needed by the motherland. Out of the
many Christian soldiers, 60 have laid their lives for Pakistan in
total, whereas, seven are Sitara-i-Jurat, three are Tamgha-i-
Jurat and four are Tamgha-i-Basalat. It was a pleasant
surprise for me when I found out that Pakistan Army also
looks after the families of Christian Martyrs with equal great
care and responsibility and never forgets them. Mrs. Delsea
Christie (widow of Peter Christie), Mrs. Rubina Sarmas Rauf
(widow of Sarmus Rauf), Miss Lesley Middle Coat (daughter of
Middle Coat) were all full of praise for the armed forces for
taking care of the families and not forgetting them.

92 | M o o n g l a d e
 To Light a Candle in the
Darkness
Feryal Ali Gauher

The lane to his house is narrow, bordered on both sides by

high walls, a drain running alongside the homes of the several
families living in this ancient qasbah (town) of Zaidah, district
Swabi. A stone wall looms to the right of the vehicle,
constructed in the fashion of the ancient buildings of
Gandhara, a land where centuries ago, the landscape was
dotted with places of Buddhist worship idles and stupas,
monasteries perched on hilltops preaching peace and
harmony.

There is a stillness in the air, as if life itself had stopped as

walls continued to grow higher, containing fear while keeping
out freedom.

Mashal Khan‘s father steps towards us. I recognize him

from the coverage given by the media to this family‘s profound
loss, the coverage that held up a mirror to our ravaged and
brutalized souls, to the hatred and bestiality that festers
within. I recognize him, his daughters, his wife from the
countless interviews we watched; helpless, outraged, eyes and
mind unbelieving as we viewed soul-numbing footage of an
enraged mob lynching a young man, hitting and kicking his
inert body as it lay in the middle of a university campus where
violence, not reasoning, seemed to have had been bred.

That young man, Mashal Khan, the second son of Iqbal

Khan, had questioned the very ethos of how his university was
being governed. He had dared to point a finger at what he

M o o n g l a d e | 93
believed was a corrupt administration, a veritable mafia of
men of letters who were devouring public funds meant to
educate the young men and women of our country. He had
spoken out clearly; he had not flinched in the face of the
terrible threats that eventually became a reality this nation
should never forget. Mashal Khan was, indeed, the light in a
state of darkness, and his ruthless, unforgivable murder must
not be allowed to pass into obscurity if we are to retrieve all
that we have lost with his death, with the deaths of all those
who have dared to speak out against obscurantism and
obfuscation of all kinds.

I am ushered into a room where two young women clad in

black abayas are seated on the sofa alongside the mantelpiece.
Upon this mantelpiece are the many awards, trophies, and
plaques received by Mashal Khan during his short but
incredibly significant life. Mashal was a top student from
school onwards, and he placed a high premium on education,
encouraging his sisters to study and obtain the highest possible
qualifications. Many women from Swabi have received
professional degrees and have set the precedent for others to
follow. In Mashal‘s family, he carried the beacon that led the
way for his sisters to maximize their potential as capable
human beings, empowered with education and enlightened
with progressive views.

I speak with Stooria, the elder of Mashal‘s two sisters,

seated on my left. She reiterates her resolve to continue with
her education at the local university. She wants to become a
pharmacist; she wants to help people heal. Her name is the
Pushto word for ―star‖, and she wants to shine in the
firmament which shelters their home from the wrath of a mob
gone mad with desperation, fed on fear, fed on countless years
of injustice, ignorance, and neglect. She wants to heal all these
people, she says, for they did not know what they were doing
when they destroyed one of their own, a classmate, a friend
just yesterday, a despised and reviled enemy today.

She talked about Mashal‘s love for books, about his

curiosity regarding the social and political histories of different

94 | M o o n g l a d e
nations and about his obsession with justice. Stooria insisted
that it was these things which cost her beloved brother his
young life, for in environments where questions were not to be
asked, where injustices were not to be questioned, where the
corrupt were allowed to roam free and the powerless were
fettered, it was a crime to speak out, to question, to demand
justice. She spoke patiently but within her I could feel the
resentment, the outrage of a darkening sky closing in on the
narrow shaft of light that had shown through her moist eyes as
she mourned for Mashal.

The room where I sat could have been anywhere in our

beloved country. There was a courtyard preceding it, with
several string cots placed in the shade of the verandah. Older
women sat here while men stayed outside in the lane, silently
supporting this grieving family. I embraced each one of these
women, and felt their hearts beating against mine, throbbing
with the anguish of having buried a young man who was never
given a chance to speak in his own defence before being
hounded, shot in the head and chest, stripped bare, dragged
along the corridors of his hostel and into the street, beaten,
punched, kicked, pummeled, and battered with rods. Many of
these young men who participated in the orgy of violence
unleashed on April 13, 2017 were his classmates. The student
who shot Mashal Khan was also his classmate. Those who
pounded their fists against his chest and head, already
bleeding, those who kicked him in his ribs and spine, were his
fellow students, gathered at a brutal lynching on an ordinary
day at a university named after a man who spoke for tolerance
and justice, and for the rights of the Pakhtun nation.

Mashal Khan was wrongfully accused and wrongfully,

brutally, murdered by an enraged, misguided, and merciless
mob. This has been established by an omnipresent media. The
charges leveled against him were declared misleading and
untrue. This has been declared by the highest authorities in the
land that the alleged corruption of an entire administration
running the affairs of the university now in the spotlight is
something that should not be allowed to pass into oblivion,
like the countless other instances where people have died

M o o n g l a d e | 95
seeking justice. In an environment where the trust deficit is
growing every day, it is paramount that the accusations made
by Mashal Khan against those who were siphoning off
university funds, or those who were holding several posts
simultaneously, being paid several salaries in contravention of
university rules, or those who were overcharging tuition fees
from young men struggling to be educated, be investigated by
the most competent authorities. That vigilante justice was
allowed to take the life of a young man in a place of higher
learning at a time when justice itself was under siege. It is
something that should shake up the entire nation and force us
to look at ourselves in the mirror this tragedy has held up to
us.

It has been established by sociologists, psychologists, and

criminologists that the type of crowds that turn violent are fed
on the fire of frustration and fueled by a set of grievances
resulting from longstanding and unresolved problems and
issues. During the 1930s, Adolf Hitler manipulated and then
exploited human passions and resentments to mobilize a
society against Jews, Poles, Hungarians, Russians – anyone
who was not ―German‖. Hitler used growing antipathy towards
the ―other‖, the ―outsider‖, and fomented the insecurity of a
large segment of the German population after World War-I to
whip up hatred against a perceived enemy, anyone who was
different, anyone who represented a different set of values,
who looked different, who subscribed to a different set of
beliefs. Hitler fueled the xenophobia of a nation perceiving
itself to be isolated and led it towards one of the biggest
genocides of contemporary history.

Similar was the case when the students of Abdul Wali Khan
University at Mardan dragged Mashal‘s already lifeless body
into the open and brutalized it again and again, endlessly,
every punch, each kick, each screaming invective, each
accusation lightening the burden of the gathered crowd. For
that crowd, those hundreds of students, young men who
signify the future of this nation, were burdened with much:
they had been gifted the burden of ignorance by an educational
system that denies the spirit of enquiry, which crushes the

96 | M o o n g l a d e
spirit of debate. They had been fed on the obscurantism of a
clergy that has glorified murder in the name of religion. They
had been deprived of the tools of reason by a faculty that
teaches by rote instead of by reading and understanding and
discussing texts so that all views are considered, dissected,
deconstructed and debated. These are the young men who
become the frontline in a war of darkness against light, young
men drowning in a deep well of ignorance and frustration,
unable to see the light, unwilling to stand behind the one man
who held up the torch beneath which all was obscurity and
shadow.

What happens when such a mob gathers to bay for blood?

Who is to stop the lynching? Where was the security
apparatus? What do the university authorities have to say for
themselves after such a heinous crime has scarred their
institution forever? What do the followers of Bacha Khan have
to say about a university named after his son, supposedly
created to uphold the values of the tall and imposing figure
also known as the Frontier Gandhi, a man who preached
harmony and non-violence? How do we understand that those
who profess to be enlightened and progressive are the very
people who stopped the adoption of a resolution in the KPK
provincial assembly condemning this brutal act in the name of
religion?

If we study the footage of the gathering on that fateful day

within the premises of the AWK University, we can see the fury
being whipped up by the instigators of this crime. We can feel
the quickening pulse of the crowd as it prepares itself for the
hunt. We can smell the blood and can see it slipping over their
eyes, blinding them to reason. We have seen it before, in the
killing of the two young men in Sialkot, many years ago, a case
still unresolved. We have seen the bodies of a man and his
pregnant wife burnt to death inside a kiln where they
fashioned clay into baked bricks, murdered on an allegation of
blasphemy. We have seen crowds rip apart and burn the
bodies of alleged petty criminals, caught in the act, condemned
and sentenced by a mob which is judge, jury, and executioner
all at the same time. We have seen a young girl thrown to

M o o n g l a d e | 97
ferocious dogs as part of punishment pronounced by the long-
outlawed panchayat system of rural Pakistan, we have known
of peasants being beaten to death by their feudal master over
the accusation of a petty theft. We have searched for the graves
of women buried alive, and we have heard parliamentarians
justifying such murders as being part of sacrosanct tradition.
We have searched for the bodies of young women killed over
the innocent and joyous act of clapping while a song is sung to
celebrate a brother‘s wedding. Over the past several years, we
have watched with horror as acts of terror have taken over
70,000 lives. And few have become numb; turn their faces
away and look at the distance, as if this was not happening, as
if nothing was out of place, as if it was just an ordinary day, an
ordinary crowd of young men intent on killing their colleague.

It was not an ordinary day when I walked through the

narrow lane leaving Mashal Khan‘s house, my heart heavy with
the burden of impotence. There was nothing ordinary about
his father, a poet who struggled hard to educate his children,
selling biscuits in places far from Zaidah, small towns in Gilgit
Baltistan, many miles from his home in this village in district
Swabi. Iqbal Khan told me about the biscuits he would sell in
the tiny district headquarters of Gahkuch where I had spent
part of a summer living in the village of Hamardas, trying to
understand why so many young women were taking their own
lives, despite being educated, or perhaps, as I discovered,
because they were educated but were forced to marry young
men who had tended livestock or irrigated fields and knew
nothing of the wealth of knowledge that could be gained
through education.

There was nothing ordinary about Mashal Khan‘s mother

who lamented that she could not kiss her son‘s hands before
burying him as every bone she held was broken. There was
nothing ordinary about the anger in Aimal Khan‘s voice as he
spoke about the injustice and unjustified frenzy that took his
brother‘s life, his eyes brimming with tears as he described the
insensitive filming of the horrific lynching by fellow students
using phone cameras. And there was nothing ordinary about
the fact that a string cot lies alongside Mashal Khan‘s grave,

98 | M o o n g l a d e
laid there for the police constable who keeps watch over the
grave, protecting it from those who had stopped every car
leaving the university campus that day, searching for Mashal
Khan‘s body, swearing to set to fire the broken remains of this
brilliant young man who stood first in every class, who had so
much to offer us, who perhaps did not belong to prevailing
mediocrity and hypocrisy but stood for excellence and
integrity.

The young men accused of Mashal Khan‘s murder represent

the dehumanization of a society where a war rages within us;
planted, nurtured, and harvested by those who wish to see us
slide into chaos and anarchy, allowing for the bigoted to lead
the ignorant, these men are soldiers in an army of terror. Such
armies are bred wherever discontent flourishes. Such armies
are strengthened by the failure of governance and the mockery
of accountability. Such armies cannot be stopped by a lone
policeman guarding a freshly dug grave. Only the light that
Mashal held up can show us the path out of this darkness.
Only the will to cleanse our souls of bigotry and narrow
fundamentalism can heal the wounds inflicted upon the soul of
this nation.

As I stood beside Mashal‘s grave, the two young women in

the black abayas came to join me. We stood silently in that
peaceful plot of land planted with poplar trees by Iqbal Khan
when he bought this tiny property for his sons to build their
homes upon. Now his younger son lies buried beneath the soil
of the ground that was to be his future home. It is here, next to
the wheat fields and beneath the poplars that Mashal would
come to study. And it was here that I stood with the two girls,
unknown to Mashal‘s family, having traveled all the way from
Rawalpindi to offer their prayers at the grave of a young man
they had never met, but whose death they lamented as if he
was one of their own.

As we raised our hands in supplication, I said a silent prayer

for the two young women, brave and courageous, caring and
compassionate, everything that we needed to become human
again, to be led out of the darkness that has fallen upon us.

M o o n g l a d e | 99
 Alert and Firm
An eyewitness account of the terrorist attack at
Khalid Aviation Base Quetta and PAF Base Samungli

Lt Col Sohail Akbar Bajwa

It was an evening as usual in Quetta as I was retiring at my

residence and was enjoying the programmes of Independence
Day on TV. It was around 2135 hours that I received a call from
the Headquarters Southern Command (HQ SC) that I was
needed to report immediately at Khalid Aviation Base (KAB),
Quetta, due to a terrorist activity.

Being a Commanding Officer (CO) of Light Commando

Battalion, I immediately passed instructions to my men and
moved to the location of the incident. Meanwhile, I was
informed that some intrusion by the terrorists had taken place
both at the PAF Base Samungli and KAB. The CO of 16 Punjab,
Lt Col Ahmed was also passed similar instructions, who also
immediately moved to KAB.

Upon reaching KAB and taking control of my area of

responsibility, I came to know that the terrorists were spotted
by few civilians while they were attempting to cut the outer
fence of the base and making their way in. The locals residing
nearby KAB, displayed responsibility and immediately passed
this information to the authorities concerned. The information
was conforming to earlier threats to KAB and Samungli base,
thus the entire security apparatus in the Cantonment as well as
Samungli base came to red alert.

I was told to cordon off the base from south, checking

suspicious movement and stop any spillover of the terrorists

100 | M o o n g l a d e
towards the Cantonment. Meanwhile the General Officer
Commanding (GOC) Major General Aftab, Brigadier Rohail
and Base Commander Brigadier Aziz ul Hassan Usmani had
been carrying the reconnaissance of the entire base periphery.
At the same time, the QRF of my unit was put on 15 minutes
notice possibly for PAF Base Samungli.

Meanwhile, 48 FF was also assigned to carry out search

from the intrusion site. As soon the troops led by Lieutenant
Colonel Waseem Iqbal and Captain Yasir approached the
middle part of the fence, they were fired upon fiercely. The fire
was so intense that it had hit Brig Usmani‘s vehicle, bursting
its tyre, and a bullet also passed through the jeep of Maj Gen
Aftab. It is important to mention about the valour of the Base
Commander‘s driver who changed the burst tyre in a minimum
time amidst heavy exchange of fire; he successfully brought the
commander back to the base.

This fire caused multiple bullet injuries to the troops of 48

FF including Capt Yasir. However, the terrorists were fired
back by the soldiers of 16 Punjab. The enemy was in near
vicinity and fire exchange was taking place from as close as 70
metres. The valiant sons of 16 Punjab led by its brave officers
proved true to their salt. In this dual of extreme nerves, they
proved their professional mettle and hit the terrorists back
with extreme courage and bravery.

Meanwhile, 16 Punjab on inner cordon of the base was

reinforced by the troops of Punjab Light Commando Battalion
led by Major Hassan in heavy volleys of fire. Moving forward, I
contacted the CO of 16 Punjab and coordinated the
employment of my men with him. The best part was that no
intrusion had been made by the terrorists into KAB. The
firefight continued till 0145 hours when the last of the big
blasts was heard near inner fence. It was expected that all
terrorists had been killed by that time. It was the same time
that I received a call from the COS SC Major General Majid
Ehsan who appreciated all the troops, took a stock of situation
on ground and asked me for any further help in discharging of
duties.

M o o n g l a d e | 101
 The situation and events at the PAF Base Samungli were no
different from KAB. The provost and intelligence tentacles
provided the information of a suspicious vehicle with about 8
individuals parked within the short vicinity of outer boundary
of the base wall near Kili Khezi. The FC deployed outside the
wall was assigned to check the vehicle. When the FC troops
reached near the vehicle, the terrorists, of whom the two were
wearing FC uniforms, started firing at them.

In the heavy exchange of fire, the terrorists spread out and

started firing rockets, small arms and various other firearms.
They fired about 5-6 rockets into the airbase, which landed
near the main tarmac. Allah had been so kind that no harm
was done and that few of those rockets didn‘t even explode.
Three terrorists were killed during this encounter with the FC.
This was followed by a fierce firefight between the terrorists
and our own security guards on the outer fence, which resulted
in multiple bullet and shrapnel injuries to the troops of 16
Punjab and Defence Services Guard (DSG).

During this exchange of fire, Wing Commander Mehr Gul,

Commanding Officer of the under attack PAF squadron,
rushed to the base‘s main tarmac. Simultaneously, Base
Commander Air Commodore Salman Bukhari moved the
troops of 16 Punjab and the PAF ground combaters to the
boundary wall to tackle the expected intrusion. The terrorists
had also made holes in the outer boundary wall and were
making efforts to enter the base. In the same situation, the
terrorists got inside the boundary wall and were hiding near
one of the washrooms of DSG living area.

At about 0130 hours, Wing Commander Mehr Gul and

Wing Commander Ameed Ullah (Chief Security Coordinator)
requested the Base Commander for employment of Punjab
Light Commando troops at the airbase since any further
intrusion into the base could be disastrous. On the request of
the Base Commander, an armed helicopter (heli) was sent to
Samungli from KAB. The heli spotted a few individuals hiding
along the boundary wall and fired upon them. The QRF of

102 | M o o n g l a d e
Punjab Light Commando Battalion comprising 40 individuals
was moved to the airbase at about 0245 hours. Snipers were
deployed along the inner perimeter covering the fighter
aircraft while Capt Fakhar along with Wing Commander Mehr
Gul climbed upon the ADA pen (a high-rise structure) for
observing and locating the hiding terrorists. They successfully
located the hiding terrorists through specialized NVGs and
same information was shared with Maj Atif and Capt Bugti of
16 Punjab and the PAF troops. These two brave officers were
quick to respond, and killed the terrorists.

By 0615 hours the situation had calmed down at both the

bases. The assets had remained safe Al Hamd o Lillah, and
there weren‘t any fatal casualties to own troops except 14
wounded. In all, 12 terrorists had been killed including 6 who
were wearing suicide jackets. The terrorists had left behind a
huge cache of ammunition and explosives. The national threat
had been subdued with great courage and conviction and
above all, with the united response of all our security forces.

Lieutenant General Nasser Janjua, Commander Southern

Command, was continuously monitoring the situation at both
the places and was issuing orders for implementation at the
ground level. The follow-up visits of General Raheel Sharif,
Chief of Army Staff, Air Chief Marshal Tahir Rafique Butt,
Chief of Air Staff, Chief Minister Balochistan Abdul Malik
along with his ministers, IG Police, and IG FC Balochistan to
the wounded officers and soldiers raised the morale of the
troops.

The success of the operation was a Divine blessing indeed.

The public grew more confidence in the forces and are certain
that the security of Pakistan lies in safer hands. Timely help in
shape of information sharing by the local population was
indeed the most valuable asset in this operation.

We all bow our heads to Allah Almighty in gratitude of the

Divine help in the thickest hour.

M o o n g l a d e | 103
 Chasing Down Terror
From a veteran‟s pen who shares account of his
valiant martyred son

Lt Col Malik Noor Mohammad (R)

On January 18, 1983 in the Combined Military Hospital

(CMH) Multan, amidst people waiting to be examined or to
visit their relatives, I was waiting patiently for my son. At 0545
hours I finally got the news of his birth. No one knew the
future of this baby; only Allah Almighty knew as He Himself
had written his fate.

As he grew up, his determination to join Pakistan Army also

became intense. He applied for 107 PMA Long Course and
after clearing the preliminary tests he proceeded for the final
test at the Inter Services Selection Board (ISSB), Malir
Cantonment. He had to stay there for four days as per the
scheduled tests. On the third day he got seriously injured while
participating in a ‗group task‘ test in the field; he received
injury on his leg and his shin bone was affected badly. The
administrative staff of ISSB decided to send him back as he
would not have been able to do well in the leftover tests where
complete physical fitness was required.

This decision was communicated to Jahanzeb but he

refused to go back and pleaded that he wanted to appear in all
the tests. On his insistence he was produced before the
President of ISSB Malir Cantonment, Brig Shafqat. Before the
President he said, ―I would prefer to die in the ISSB rather
than going back home as an unsuccessful candidate‖. He
further said, ―I would only go back if I am called back by my
father‖. Considering his high morale, strong motivation and

104 | M o o n g l a d e
enormous enthusiasm, the President allowed him to continue
the remaining tests at his own risk. He had a bandage wrapped
around his injured leg firmly and started taking his remaining
tests. He was selected for the army, completed his training and
joined 3 Frontier Force Regiment.

Much later, Maj Jahanzeb Adnan joined his parent unit as

Delta Company Commander in the Frontier Region (FR)
Peshawar to take part in the war against terrorism. The 3
Frontier Force (FF) Regiment was given the responsibility to
clear the terrorists from the area starting from Bara extending
upto Dara Adam Khel. Maj Jahanzeb Adnan initially
conducted operations as Company Commander and later on he
was appointed Second-in-Command of his Battalion. Besides
his administrative duties, he volunteered to participate in field
operations. He was an exceptionally brave, highly
consummate, professionally trustworthy and extremely
determined officer. The spirit of sacrifice, devotion and
commitment to the motherland and professional excellence
displayed by him in different operations against the terrorists
had always been admired by his superior commanders. While
discharging his duties he participated in various operations
and led his troops from the front.

In the last operation he conducted, he led his troops and

moved to Bazargai village, a continuation of Hasan Khel village
near Khikanaboo Hills. Because of increased terrorist activities
in the Frontier Region Peshawar, Operation Bazargai was
planned as that village was being used as an operational and
administrative base by the miscreants. On February 16, 2014, I
received a message from my son with a request to pray for his
success as he was on the move for an important operation.

Maj Jahanzeb Adnan took 50 soldiers along with another

field officer, Maj Siraj-un-Nabi. They carried out a classic
march and reached near Bazargai village on February 17 at
0800 hours. As per source information the terrorists were to
come out on February 18. So, he moved to Azakhel Dam. He
was on the move throughout the day and reached Azakhel Dam
at night where he carried out search operations and managed

M o o n g l a d e | 105
to clear the Azakhel village. Without taking rest, early in the
morning he moved back to Bazargai village. On reaching
Bazargai, Maj Jahanzeb confirmed the presence of terrorists
and regrouped his troops. One party under Maj Siraj-un-Nabi
was sent by him to cordon off the village. Maj Jahanzeb Adnan
took along a few soldiers and decided to smash the terrorists
himself.

When he was establishing his positions, he suddenly saw a

few terrorists headed by their leader, Tariq (alias Hazrat Ali),
the most notorious miscreant who had been involved in many
terrorist activities (including slitting throats of Pakistan Army
soldiers and FC troops) entering the street of Bazargai village.
Maj Jahanzeb recognized him and ran towards him in order to
not miss the opportunity of killing that high value target.
While attacking the terrorist, he yelled, shouted and
challenged him to surrender. In the process, Maj Jahanzeb
fired at him and the terrorist received bullet on left arm, ran
for cover like the coward he was and managed to get into a
shop to save his skin. During the scuffle the other terrorists
fired at Maj Jahanzeb who was alone at that time as his other
comrades got pinned down due to intense fire. He got severe
injuries but he returned fire on the other terrorists.
Subsequently he managed to kill all of them.

After elimination of those terrorists, Maj Jahanzeb followed

the terrorist leader and entered the shop. During this
encounter Maj Jahanzeb also got a burst of fire by few other
terrorists seeking hideout inside the same shop. He received
seven bullets, one in the head and six on the body and
succumbed to his injuries, embracing shahadat on the spot.
He did not fall down but stood firmly on his feet with his back
touching the wall. Out of 50 soldiers only he embraced
shahadat and nobody else was injured. His last fight was a
supreme act of valour and I am proud of my son who laid
down his life in the defence of Pakistan.

106 | M o o n g l a d e
 Stalking Dir with Eagle
Eye
Tale of a gallant hero – Martyr of IBO who started as a
Cavalry Charger and ended as a Spymaster

Maj Muzaffar Ahmed

―It is not always easy. Your successes are unheralded –

your failures are trumpeted.‖
(John F. Kennedy, CIA Headquarters, November 28, 1961)

Times of chaos and disarray will not remain forever; sons of

the soil are offering the best – their lives in guarding the
country.

Ali called, ―I am committed – rushing towards Army Public

School Warsak Road as we speak‖. There was a distinct note of
agony in his voice as he said, ―Terrorists have attacked the
Army Public School Peshawar. They are brutally killing
innocent children. Saman you should go to school yourself and
fetch Shahwaiz back home‖. Saman hurriedly turned on the
television and saw the horrific tickers being displayed. She was
stunned and motionless for a while. After she regained her
senses, however with anguish and fear, she dragged herself
towards the Army Public School Cantonment Junior Branch
and brought Shahwaiz back. Aah! It was all terrible.

The 30-year-old Ali had witnessed the bloodshed of the

parents‘ loving lads with impoverished eyes. Saman narrates
that she could sense Ali grief-stricken for many days after the
dreadful event. Though the grief and moaning of this national
tragedy had started settling, yet the cold-blooded massacre

M o o n g l a d e | 107
had shaken Ali‘s personality, too. He started seeing Shahwaiz
in every innocent martyr and injured of Army Public School,
which ultimately guided him to seize the perspective of every
passing moment and give it a shape, value and substance for
contributing towards prosperity in the country. His self-
commitment still echoes in Saman‘s ears that every cloud has a
silver lining and it is now the turn of terrorists‘ bastions to
stand the blow of wrath even in their most remote and safest
hidings.

Hailing from Lahore, Ali was curious from teenage to

maintain his ancestral legacy of soldiering. The medium-built,
amiable Ali, always used to attract everyone‘s attention due to
a distinct smile on his face. Ali Salman‘s childhood best friend
Ali Sohail recollects their nostalgic bond, ―We met each other
in the Army Public School Peshawar Cantonment in Class V
and with the passage of time became close friends of each
other. Our fathers were serving in the same city in their
respective Army Ordnance setups. To my dismay after one year
Ali‘s father (Lt Col Nasir Mahmood) was transferred to Lahore
Cantonment. But coincidentally we were reunited again in the
Garrison Academy for Boys Lahore Cantonment once my
father was also transferred to Lahore.

My friend was a shining, lively and jolly figure of our class

not only for excelling academically but also because of fervent
love for nature and laughter. At his home, he was mostly found
busy in exploring ways to behaviorally nurture, serve and
manage his caged parrots, rabbits, lambs and plants. Keeping
his mother‘s evenings busy by asking for french fries was
visible from his appearance that‘s why he also got fame as
Dambry (cartoon character) among colleagues. Due to visiting
each other‘s homes almost daily, I could make out that he was
very compassionate, loving and fun seeking brother of his two
sisters. The bond of our friendship grew stronger with each
passing day. I cannot forget his joyous company, especially
partnering in cricket, kicking football and visiting the Lahore
Zoo for many hours. As adulthood approached and we got into
intermediate level education, I could observe in him behavioral
inquisitiveness transcending into seriousness and aspiration to

108 | M o o n g l a d e
attain something in life i.e., from aimlessness to knowing what
he wanted. The iconic image of his father and uncles served his
motivation to be a flag bearer and join the Pakistan Army.
Though his parents neither forced and nor stopped him from
pursuing the goal of joining Army, yet being an only and
obedient son, he eloquently convinced his mother about his
decision. Ali‘s motivational lectures and ethical jolts did not
spare me even. His giggles, fun filled routine and narration of
challenges at the Pakistan Military Academy inspired me as
well to join the Pakistan Army. I often miss him dearly!‖

Ali‘s colleagues from 112 PMA Long Course also cannot

forgo cherishing memories of his perseverance and jovialness
even during the times of rigorous and taxing training activities.
On completion of the training at Pakistan Military Academy in
2005, he joined 13 Lancers, a glorious and decorated Armored
Corps unit located in Quetta.

Enthusiastically responding to the unit‘s grooming

modules, Ali turned out to be a responsible and professional
Cavalry Charger in very less time in line with the expectations
of his seniors and subordinates. His unit officer, Lt Col Aaitizaz
Asbuq Waheed remembered him as an opponent in squash
court and a close comrade, ―We used to hang out in the
evenings, playing squash together. Ali‘s aggression, gaming
strategies and spirit to win the contests of squash and will to
fight back for any game lost, were all admiring.‖ Youngsters
Hammad, Waqas and Noman used to pose immense
confidence in his guidelines, mentoring sessions and timely
elderly directions.

Moreover, his love for good music was also a talk of the
unit. Due to day and night earnest endeavours and buckling
down, the under-command troops started loving him as he
remained their Adjutant – custodian of discipline, the
Quartermaster – responsible for feeding, health and hygiene
and the Squadron Commander in thick and thin. Besides 13
Lancers, while he was posted to serve with another unit 25
Cavalry at Razmak in Operation Al Mizan in year 2010, the CO
(Commanding Officer) of the unit found him at the front lines

M o o n g l a d e | 109
as Squadron Commander and expressed high words about
him.

During the course of professional building up, Ali remained

an instructor in an Armour Division Battle School at
Gujranwala. Thereafter, he started realizing and discussing
with seniors in the unit that his inclination and mental
faculties are probably more suited for intelligence tasks. Thus
year-2014 proved to be a turning point in Ali‘s life which
parted him from 13 Lancers for a new venture but his
association, interaction and contacts with the unit were never
broken.

―Yay! Saman, I have been selected for service in the Corps

of Military Intelligence and need to undertake the intelligence
course in the School of Military Intelligence in Murree. I am
happy to join Pakistan Army‘s highly professional frontline
force – the spymasters. I will use my potentials to the best of
the service interests.‖ To prove himself the best suited for the
upcoming assignments, he strived extra hard. His fellow
course-mates said that he proficiently grasped the art of being
invisible and an extraordinary intelligence operator and could
disguise, surveil, detect and solve with near-perfect masteries.
His skills are reflected through his securing the first position in
the Officers Military Intelligence Mid-Career Course.

At the end of year 2014, Ali was posted to Peshawar for

intelligence field works. Having witnessed the Army Public
School massacre, he frequently started motivating his team
individuals through his spyglass. ―The spirit to avenge the
blood of innocent victims of terrorism in the country remains
fresh in my heart. Pakistan and the scenic valley of District Dir,
its loving people and Panjkora River don‘t deserve bloodshed
and can‘t be deprived of peace and prosperity.‖

To offset the game plans of enemy, he acquired reasonable

grip over local Pushto dialect, demography, behaviour, culture
and traditions of people of the area in a very short span of
time. Then discretely started unearthing, fixing and destroying
the active and passive networks (sleeping cells) of the

110 | M o o n g l a d e
terrorists of Tehrik-i-Taliban Swat and other splinter groups
operating in District Dir as well as adjacent areas. Covert
efforts of his team succeeded in averting numerous bomb
blasts and led towards recovery of huge caches of ammunition
and explosives.

A testimony of his achievements is the letter of appreciation

from the Commander Peshawar Corps, Lt Gen Nazir Ahmed
Butt. As an influential humane intelligence operator, local
notables of the area and Village Defence Committees
applauded cordial relations of his team with the masses. His
comrades were also admirers of his leadership qualities and
affection for subordinates as stated by his driver Nobel Masih.

After completing three years‘ eventful stay at District Dir,

he received orders to pack up for next duty as an instructor at
the School of Military Intelligence, Murree. While saying
goodbye to the affiliates, the District Police Officer and the
District Coordination Officer of Dir spoke high of him and felt
downhearted on his departure.

On August 5, 2017, with renewed spirits and happy feelings

of posting to new location, Ali and his family reached
Peshawar for their farewell Dining Out. After the ceremony Ali
told me, ―Today‘s words of appreciation and good wishes by
the Commander and my colleagues have supplemented and
strengthened my job satisfaction.‖ On August 7, amidst fine
memories of service in Peshawar and District Dir, Ali left for
Dir for his final pack-up. Then came Sunday – August 8, 2017,
a usual sunny day with unusual loud chirping of birds around
the residence; an eternal day of test of Ali and his teammates.
His eagle eye estimated through grapevine about the presence
of four high value terrorists of Tehrik-i-Taliban Swat in
Sherotkai village of Sultankhel, Upper Dir, who were actually
on his watch-list for quite some time.

These terrorists were planning to sabotage our Yaum-e-

Azadi celebrations by attacking at a mass gathering of
innocent people thus turning the day into a national level
tragedy for the country. Though Ali was over with his

M o o n g l a d e | 111
responsibilities in the area and was ready to move for the new
assignment in Murree, yet his pneuma conscience forced him
to handle these terrorists. He discussed the situation with his
senior Commanders and planned an IBO (Intelligence Based
Operation). Under the shadows of parents‘ prayers and wife‘s
hope of success, he left his base in the evening with the team –
Havildar Akhtar, Havildar Ghulam Nazir and Levies Sepoy
Kareem Khan along with Sher Dil Task Force, part of Army‘s
SWAT Division, led by Lt Zeeshan. The vehicle driver noticed
and asked Ali, ―Sir, you seem very excited today and the glow is
visible on your face‖, to which he responded, ―Dear! yes, I am
happy because Almighty Allah has confidence in me that‘s why
He has again afforded me an opportunity to contribute, and
Allah be willing our team will succeed.‖

Once it was dark, Ali briefed the Sher Dil Task Force
Commander about the target, which was a house where the
terrorists were hiding. On reaching the site at around
midnight, Sher Dil Task Force established a cordon around the
hideout of terrorists. After 10-15 odd minutes, upon not
detecting an imminent danger, Maj Ali Salman made an
attempt to trace out and feed Sher Dil Task Force Commander
the exact location of terrorists in the rooms. While he was
approaching the terrorists with his team, one of the terrorists
got alerted but he was overpowered by fire. Then in a span of
few seconds, in an attempt to apprehend the terrorists alive,
Ali and his teammates briskly jumped over three terrorists and
firmly gripped them.

After overpowering the terrorists once clearing the

terrorists for the weapons and explosives was in process, one
of the terrorists blew himself up. Destiny came into play. This
resulted in raising of the nation‘s four brave sons (Maj Ali
Salman, Havildar Akhtar, Havildar Ghulam Nazir and Sepoy
Kareem Khan) to the highest pedestal of martyrdom
(shahadat) and averted a national tragedy planned by the
terrorists. Then a fire exchange started between Sher Dil Task
Force and the remaining terrorist, who was shot down in a
little while. There ended the chapter of Ali‘s life with fulfilled
commitment with the Army Public School Peshawar by foiling

112 | M o o n g l a d e
another big terrorist plot and saving the innocent human lives.

Back at home, at around 01:45 a.m. midnight, his younger

sister received a call, however; tremblingly handed over the
mobile phone to the father with the fear that Ali‘s request to
sisters for praying for his shahadat had probably come true.
His father could also sense the reason, thanked Allah and
stated, ―Ali has won over me by giving sacrifice for the
country.‖ The courage, fortitude and patience of such fathers
are really praiseworthy.

Later, with wet eyes, his mother recalled that Ali used to
take care of her, loved her cooking especially daal maash but
now there is a vacuum as he will not be there to appreciate her
cooked food.

His wife Saman, 29, standing as a rock of conviction said

that Allah had selected Ali and his comrades because He
wanted to correct those who had gone astray. She painfully
expressed that Ali had the intuition of his shahadat before
commencing his final journey for the high-level operation. A
day prior he briefed me, ―If I am not with you one day, don‘t
worry, then whatever decision you take for our kids, Shahwaiz
(6 years) and Abdullah (2 years), it will have hundred percent
support of mine‖. This courageous lady has to pass through the
marathon of life without her husband but her determination is
matchless as she intends offering Ali‘s sons Shahwaiz and
Abdullah to Pakistan Army as protectors of the country.

Ali‘s love for his sons is irreplaceable. He fulfilled all the

wishes of his sons. Mentioning two long awaited wishes is
heart wrenching. Shahwaiz wanted to take rides of a tank and a
helicopter. His son‘s wish of the tank ride was fulfilled by him
once he took Shahwaiz to his unit to the utter pleasure of little
lad. The other wish was also fulfilled but that was after Ali‘s
departure from the world once the family was flown on a
helicopter for funeral ceremonies.

After Ali‘s sacrifice, other brave spymasters immediately

filled the place and resumed the missions with full zeal and

M o o n g l a d e | 113
zest to block the nefarious acts and designs of external and
internal enemies of Pakistan. Ali, his teammates and many
others are those heroes who were confided by the destiny for
glorification, however; there are numerous other unsung
spymasters who silently keep working for the honour and love
of the Green Flag and contribute towards bringing peace.
These spymasters are the real asset of our nation who strike
terror into the hearts of the enemies by their invisible presence
everywhere thus making it difficult for the actors of chaos and
terror to operate easily.

114 | M o o n g l a d e
 Waziristan at Peace
Jennifer McKay

A new kind of normalcy is taking root in North Waziristan.

After years of being at the mercy of terrorist groups, the local
people are finally free to build a new and better life. The rapid
change in this once ‗no-go‘ area is impressive.

What‘s happening in North Waziristan is too extensive to do

justice to. Driving from Bannu through Mir Ali into Miranshah
on new roads, through valleys scattered with date palms, and
surrounded by the extraordinary rugged beauty of the hills and
mountains, is exhilarating. Arrival in Miranshah and touring
around brings many surprises about this spectacular and
intriguing region.

North Waziristan was the last of the seven tribal agencies,

along with Swat, to be cleared. Operation Zarb-e-Azb has been
successful with the Army, Frontier Corps and Air Force,
carrying out courageous and intensive operations. Along the
way, there have been many sacrifices. Several hundred soldiers
were martyred during operations. Their families will always
grieve their loss but all should always remember their sacrifice
in making the country safer.

Several thousand terrorists were killed. Others were

captured or surrendered. Many were not Pakistanis. Uzbeks,
Chechens, and other nationalities joined forces and based
themselves with local terrorists amongst the local population
in North Waziristan. The level of capability of the terrorist
groups is far removed from the common perception. Their
operations were quite sophisticated. But that does not flatter
their intelligence, merely highlights the level of their capacity

M o o n g l a d e | 115
and monstrosity. Networks of tunnels under houses and
markets, barbaric slaughter rooms, ingenious camouflage of
air circulation for the tunnels and underground war rooms
were discovered during the operations. A sophisticated media
centre with multiple screens, communications‘ equipment, and
a medical centre were hidden under a mosque.

A walk-through of a reconstruction of a terrorist ‗markaz‘

with General Officer Commanding, North Waziristan, Maj Gen
Hassan Hayat, showed just what the Army was facing. A
relatively innocent-looking building – similar to many – could
ingeniously disguise a maze of tunnels and huge caches of
weapons. A display of just a fraction of the weapons,
communication equipment, explosives, suicide vests, gas
cylinders and other deadly equipment for vehicle-borne-
explosives and improvised explosive devices, gives rise to the
thought of what would have happened if just a fraction of the
massive cache had made its way into the cities and villages of
Pakistan. Terrorists were buying explosives as they would buy
spices from the market.

Under the markaz were rooms where young suicide

bombers spent their time preparing for what they were told
would be paradise. Viewing a room decorated with photos of
pretty girls, beautiful scenery, carpets and cushions, one could
only wonder about the state of a child‘s mind as he prepared to
meet a ghastly end. The boys were kept intoxicated to keep
them under the power of their handlers. The barbarism and
sheer cowardice of sending children to their death, taking their
innocence with them, is beyond the comprehension of any
normal human being.

One thing that I found almost comical amongst the

paraphernalia captured by the Pakistan Army, were wigs –
long, black, curly wigs. This does conjure up some interesting
visions of the purpose of such glamour-enhancing objects.
Perhaps even terrorists fall victim to the perils of vanity or
perhaps they just wanted to look scary in their videos. No other
cosmetic enhancements were sighted.

116 | M o o n g l a d e
 Miranshah is just few kilometres away from the Afghanistan
border. With what was then a porous border, terrorists who
managed to flee the Army would cross into Afghanistan when
the chase got too hot. What I have never quite understood, is
why with all the criticism of Pakistan "not doing enough", and
at a time when there were massive numbers of U.S. and
international forces in Afghanistan, as well as the Afghan
Army, so little was done to stop them when they fled across the
border or those from the Afghan side attempted to infiltrate
into Pakistan. One can only speculate.

The border is now secured. New forts have been built on

mountains and ridges. The crossing points are closed and a
‗smart‘ fence is being constructed on the Pakistan side of the
border. The terrain is a challenge for the erection of such a
barrier. Mountains, valleys and crevices form a chain that
stretches the entire length of the border. The new Border
Management arrangements will do much to reduce the
movement of terrorists from Afghanistan into Pakistan and for
local felons to flee.

Miranshah today would be unrecognizable to those who

served there in earlier times. The market is bustling and a new
shopping centre is under construction by a private investor. A
modern bus terminal that will be a comfortable starting place
for journeys to other cities like Lahore is also about to begin
construction.

In the cantonment, trees, including many varieties of fruit

trees, and flowers have been planted, the streets are
immaculate, and in the midst of all this, stands a small
Christian Church. It is hard to imagine that only a short time
ago, this whole area was under attack from rockets, and that
the tanks I saw parked near beautiful flowering trees were in
live action.

While there is little doubt that some profited from the

presence of the terrorist groups, others who had no option but
to stay through the dreadful times of terror, abuse and
intimidation, were courageous. Through courage and

M o o n g l a d e | 117
determination, they managed to adapt to their circumstances
and survive to see the onset of peace.

Millions of people were displaced from their homes for their

own protection as military operations were launched to defeat
the terrorists. There was no other option to ensure civilian
safety. When the Army moved the population out to launch the
military operations, many lost their homes, their livestock,
crops, and livelihoods. Some were fortunate that in
displacement they could stay with host families or even rent a
house elsewhere. But for others, it was the indignity of a camp
for displaced persons. Try to imagine a Pakistani summer or
winter in a tent with your whole family. It would be very
unpleasant indeed.

The process to return home takes time, as families cannot

return until a village is de-notified and basic facilities are
reconstructed by the Army and government to facilitate
resettlement. On arrival at the checkpoint for North
Waziristan, all family members undergo biometric checking
and clearance to ensure they receive their proper entitlements
and can move about. The process is efficient and when I
visited, there were only very small queues. No weapons are
allowed and vehicles are inspected for compliance with the
rules. The biometric checking process is mandatory every time
any person enters or leaves the area to ensure that security is
maintained.

The majority of families have returned home and more will

follow soon including those who moved across the border to
stay with families in Afghanistan. Life is returning to normal.
Families and communities are busy rebuilding, restocking
their animals, and planting crops. Freedom has come at a price
but there is a determination to live in peace and become a
prosperous and educated region.

Women often suffer most in conflict and complex

emergencies. Not being used to living in camps where there is
little privacy is particularly difficult. I spoke with many women
and girls about the tough times and how they see their future.

118 | M o o n g l a d e
A number of well-equipped Women‘s Vocational Training
Centres have been established for women and girls to learn
dressmaking, knitting, cookery, and techniques for hair and
beauty treatments. Each centre has a bright and cheerful
nursery for babies and small children to be cared for and
entertained while their mothers are in class. The kitchens in
the women‘s centres would be the envy of any chef in a major
city.

Away from the men, the women are talkative, warm, and
engaging. There were emotional moments as they shared their
stories. An elderly lady in a village that had been in a terrorist
stronghold and the scene of significant operations, told me, ―I
only have Allah now. My family is all dead.‖ Hugging me
tightly, she went on to whisper, ―But I have peace, too‖.
Surrounded by the women and the children of the village, it
was clear that she also would be nurtured and cared for by her
community.

Another woman told me of the terrible times she faced

when the terrorists kidnapped her husband. In between tears
remembering what it was like, she managed to smile when she
said, ―but look now, we have peace at last and we thank the
Army for making us safe. Our girls are going to school and
learning so much. They will have a better life than me‖.

Fathers waited patiently at the school gate for their

daughters. One man told the GOC how happy he was that his
daughter was going to school and asked if the Army would
build yet another girls‘ school in his nearby village. It is not
possible to have a school in every village but the villages are
close together so it is never too far to travel. It is heartening to
see that education is a top priority for parents for both their
boys and their girls and the Army has a campaign to get all
children to school. There is even a Montessori school opening
in the area. A beautiful place surrounded by trees and fields,
close to a stream, it will be a wonderful place for children to
learn.

Health and education are paramount. In the Boya and

M o o n g l a d e | 119
Degan area, malaria and leishmaniasis – a painful and
debilitating illness caused by sandflies – are problematic. A
new small hospital, staffed by Army medical officers, locals
and lady health workers, is addressing these issues. The
hospital also has cardiac and other equipment including blood-
testing facilities not previously available in the area. The
presence of these facilities will make a great difference to the
health of the local people.

In Miranshah, an impressive hospital is now operational

with numerous facilities never previously available. A women‘s
wing is also under construction. Mir Ali too has a new hospital.
Nutrition is a problem not only in FATA but also across the
country. A nutrition clinic, operated by an NGO has opened at
the Miranshah Hospital. This is a great step forward to
improve the nutritional aspects of child health. This is
particularly important when 43 percent of children in Pakistan
are feeling the effects of stunting due to poor nutrition. More
assistance will be needed in the future for the health of the
people of Waziristan. Telemedicine is helping fill some of the
gaps but more doctors, including gynaecologists and other
specialists, nurses, medicines and facilities will make a
significant difference.

The crucial question many ask is: ―Is this sustainable

peace?‖ I believe so. Peace does not happen overnight.
Suspicions and old family feuds are likely to still be present but
are now managed. Peace building is a long process but the
enthusiastic work done so far by the Army to rebuild and
rehabilitate North Waziristan is some of the best I‘ve seen. In a
short span of time, great roads, schools for boys and girls,
hospitals and clinics, model villages, 149 solar water-pumping
stations, a Post Office, and a PTCL Centre are now all
operational. Four schools have been designated as Golden
Arrow Army Public Schools and these will be replicated
elsewhere in FATA.

The Younus Khan Sports Complex with its beautiful cricket

stadium, jogging track, children‘s park, and sports courts is
impressive and beautifully laid out. On Pakistan Day 2017,

120 | M o o n g l a d e
8,000 people gathered in the stadium for the festivities.
Astounding really, when you think that not so long ago, this
was a place too dangerous to move. The locals' love of sports is
apparent everywhere. Smaller sports stadiums have been built
in a number of areas and wherever you drive, children and
adults are out in the fields or any available space, playing
cricket.

As much as some would find this surprising, the potential

for tourism is substantial. The beautiful historic hill station of
Razmak, at an altitude similar to Murree, is thriving again and
surprisingly, even has a very modern coffee shop that would
not look out of place in Islamabad or Lahore. The Cadet
College has reopened and the students have returned after
being evacuated to other Cadet Colleges several years ago
when rocket attacks and kidnapping threats made life too
perilous. But now Razmak is at peace and thriving. The
beautiful vistas and highland climate, and the good roads,
provide the opportunity for a whole new industry; Tourism.
There are even plans for a festival there in July.

New crops have been planted across the agency. The first
crop of potatoes will be harvested with an expected yield of
1,500 tons, providing both nutrition and income for locals.
Tunnel and vertical farms have been established for vegetable
crops. Poultry and fish farms are becoming prosperous. A
million new trees are taking root and will provide fruit, shade,
and stabilization on hillsides. Most importantly, the
community is engaged in the process every step of the way.
Pine nuts, olives, and other ‗gourmet‘ ingredients provide
potential high-return markets and exports.

The youth are engaged in learning skills at vocational

centres that will provide them with ‗work-ready‘ capabilities
and certificates in carpentry, electricals, vehicle repairs, and
other trades. Construction of roads and infrastructure, and
copper mining at Degan, are providing new jobs. Private
investors are starting to see the commercial opportunities.
Additional infrastructure, particularly electricity, is needed
and the government will need to address this costly challenge.

M o o n g l a d e | 121
 Winning peace in such a historically troubled area has been
an enormous challenge but many are now starting to see what
extraordinary achievements have been made. Speaking
recently at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst, at an event
to mark the 70th independence anniversary of Pakistan, the
Commander British Field Army, Lt Gen Patrick Nicholas
Sanders said, ―Pakistan had made breathtaking gains against
terrorists and extremists in tribal areas unmatched in over 150
years‖. He went on to say that Pakistan Army had done more
than anyone to combat extremism and terrorism and the
achievements were extraordinary.

The Army is doing an impressive job leading the

reconstruction and rehabilitation work alongside the FATA
Secretariat, the Political Agent and his team. Bilateral and
multilateral donors, humanitarian and development
organisations are also working in support of initiatives and are
continuing to extend their projects now that the area is
opening up. The FATA Reforms are underway although these
may take some time to be fully implemented.

To build on these massive achievements, it is also up to the

broader community to support peace in North Waziristan and
other regions of FATA through ‗adopting‘ schools, clinics, and
other initiatives that provide long-term benefits for stability.
North Waziristan may seem remote from the cities of Pakistan
but peace in this once-troubled area, also means peace in the
cities.

The Tochi Valley has had a long and colourful history. This
beautiful valley, running from Bannu through Mir Ali and
Miranshah, out to Degan, Boya and beyond, has seen many
conflicts over the centuries. Today, it is at peace.

In the days of the British, it was the scene of many

skirmishes between the tribesmen and the British Indian
Army. The history books are full of interesting tales of the
British attempting to subjugate the tribes, usually
unsuccessfully. It is worth reading some of the books and
articles on the history of North Waziristan and bordering areas

122 | M o o n g l a d e
of Afghanistan to get a better understanding of the fierce and
independent tribesmen and their battles with the British. Most
accounts were written by British officers and are imperialistic
in their tone but they do provide a background to the many
conflicts in the past century or two.

The British have long gone but since 2001 when the U.S.
and foreign forces invaded Afghanistan, trouble in the Tribal
Agencies started to escalate. Despite many attempts at
building peace between militant factions and the state, trouble
intensified to a point where military operations were needed to
defeat the growing threat. It is not easy, nor desirable, for any
army to have to fight its own people and Pakistan wanted to
avoid the scenario of many innocent people in the region being
caught up in what would ultimately become a necessary
conflict. Terrorists, including Uzbeks, Chechens and others,
along with local groups, had infiltrated and taken over
communities, basically holding them as a collective human
shield. In all instances across the seven Tribal Agencies, the
Army moved the population out to protect innocent families.
This was a massive effort and a huge cost to the state and more
so, to the people many of whom lost everything. However, with
talks bringing no resolution, and attacks growing in the area
and the cities, the only solution was to launch the operations.

Operation Zarb-e-Azb, launched in June 2014, finally

brought to an end the reign of terror of the militant groups
that had moved into North Waziristan from Afghanistan and
beyond to join forces with local militants. The alliances of
these groups including the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan,
the East Turkestan Islamic Movement, Tehrik-i-Taliban
Pakistan (TTP), Lashkar-e-Jhangvi, Jundallah and the
Haqqani network were a threat to the country and the region.
Tribal elders and thousands of innocent civilians and soldiers
have died at the hands of these groups. The success of the
military operations has led to a significant reduction of terror
attacks in the country.

Following the operations, the government and Army could

then start the process of bringing home the displaced
population and rehabilitation and reconstruction efforts.
M o o n g l a d e | 123
These were already underway in the other six Agencies that
had previously been cleared. The efforts have been massive
and will continue for some time. The terrain and location of
villages in North Waziristan makes the task more challenging
but the leap forward from what was to what is and what will
be, is impressive.

I travelled to different parts of North Waziristan to get a

better understanding of the difference in areas and what is
happening. The areas are quite distinctive in nature and the
Tochi Valley with its beauty and history is one area that is
showing great potential.

New roads are making travel in North Waziristan so much

easier. A new road from Miranshah to Boya is under
construction and will soon be surfaced making it an even more
pleasant journey out through the valley following the Tochi
River. When I visited Boya – located a little over 20 kilometres
from Miranshah – the valley was looking most beautiful. Sun
shining on the rugged ranges and the mud and brick houses
and compounds in villages along the river, trees with bright
green foliage, healthy crops in the fields, and children playing
cricket, it seemed a vision of serenity. It was hard to imagine
that so recently this had been the scene of so much misery.

Fighting in the area to defeat some of the most ruthless

terrorists including Uzbeks and others involved in the attack
on the Karachi Airport, was intense. Large caches of weapons
and explosives were found in the clearing operations, a
reminder of the firepower capability that terrorists can muster.

With the majority of the community having returned to the

Tochi Valley, life is moving to the new normal that is obvious
across all of North Waziristan. The transition from a terrorist-
infested area, to a peaceful community that has returned from
displacement is not without challenges. But so much has been
done already to rehabilitate this area and the prospects for the
future are looking good.

Not so long ago, when the soldiers moved through this area,

124 | M o o n g l a d e
the children made the ‗hand across the throat‘ sign, wishing
death to the soldiers. Now they wave happily and often salute
the soldiers. Sometimes, they even pause from their game of
cricket to run to the roadside to wave. This is reflection of love
for Pakistan Army among tribal children and elders.

What a spectacular tourist drive this could be one day, now

that peace has been restored. When more facilities are built,
and the area opens up more to visitors, this will be a ‗must
visit‘ area. Let us hope that will be soon as tourism brings a lot
of money to any area and the local people would prosper.

The people of the Boya and Degan area are already seeing
new opportunities for prosperity at their doorstep with the
discovery of copper and the opening of a mine and processing
facilities. This is significant. Industry is needed across all of
FATA and this once ‗no-go‘ area of North Waziristan can
certainly benefit from such ventures.

The abundance of minerals including copper, chromite, oil,

and gas in FATA has been known for some years. However, the
instability and threat of terrorism was too high for investors to
take a chance on mining. That has changed. In 2016, the
Frontier Works Organisation (FWO) signed a Memorandum of
Understanding with the FATA Development Authority (FDA)
to open a copper mine at Degan. FWO, through its subsidiary
MEDO then partnered with Yantai Xinhai Mining Machinery
to build a copper benefication plant that will have a capacity of
1,500 tons per day.

What is impressive about the agreement is that it will give

18 percent of the revenue to the local community, 10 percent to
the FATA Development Authority, and 22 percent to corporate
social responsibility initiatives to be spent on local projects.

In addition, this will bring jobs, not only at the mine and
processing plant but also in the provision of support services
from businesses in the community. Investment in industry can
help communities make the leap from subsistence living to
prosperity. The investment in this copper mine is a major step

M o o n g l a d e | 125
in encouraging other investors to look at opportunities in
mining and other industries.

The Tochi Valley is very close to the Afghanistan Border.

Although the situation with Afghanistan is often fractious, the
benefits for both countries in building trade are obvious. As
North Waziristan opens up, and with the excellent roads
linking it with the cities in Pakistan and to the border, new
opportunities will arise for trade in minerals, fruit and
vegetables, and other goods. Enhanced trade and effective
joint border management will increase the chances for long-
term peace on both sides of the border.

What is concerning though is that the situation in

Afghanistan appears to be worsening. With the Afghan Taliban
controlling large swathes of the country and a growing
presence of Daesh, it is hard to say what will happen. The
Trump Administration has recently announced that more U.S.
troops will be sent to Afghanistan but the situation remains
unclear whether this will make a difference when billions of
dollars and fifteen years of a huge presence of U.S. and ISAF
forces on the ground with a large Afghan Army could not bring
peace. Foreign analysts do not seem positive that this latest
increase will help due to the growing power of Afghan Taliban
and Daesh across the country. For Pakistan, which has done so
much to defeat terrorism, and lost so many lives to bring peace
within its own borders, peace in Afghanistan is critical.

The improvements have already been made in these villages

around Boya and Degan. One of the most important of these is
the small hospital, which is currently staffed by Army medical
officers, lady health workers, and local medical assistants. The
area has significant health problems that have not previously
been addressed including general healthcare, cardiology, and
women‘s health. Healthcare is a vital component for the well-
being of this area to progress and prosperity. One of the major
health problems highlighted by the Army doctors, and which
should be prioritized and addressed in community health is
that of malaria and leishmaniasis, both of which are common
in this area.

126 | M o o n g l a d e
 These two maladies, delivered by mosquitos and sandflies
respectively, are extremely dangerous and can cause long-term
illnesses and even death. While many are more familiar with
malaria, less is understood about leishmaniasis which is a
dangerous and painful disease. The World Health
Organisation suggests that leishmaniasis affects some of the
poorest people on earth, and is associated with malnutrition,
population displacement, poor housing, a weak immune
system and lack of financial resources. The disease is linked to
environmental changes such as deforestation, building of
dams, irrigation schemes, and urbanization.

According to health advisories, ―affected regions are often

remote and unstable, with limited resources for treating this
disease.‖ Doctors Without Borders calls leishmaniasis ―one of
the most dangerous neglected tropical diseases.‖ It can be
transmitted from one human to another in certain
circumstances. The Organization also states that this disease is
second only to malaria in parasitic causes of death. It can
cause skin lesions, mainly ulcers, on exposed parts of the body,
leaving life-long scars and serious disability.

Treating the illness is one thing though no vaccines are

available, but more important is to take preventative
measures, and to get to the cause of the problem. The World
Health Organisation provides advice on how communities can
reduce the risk. Raising awareness of the risks of these two
diseases carried by tiny flying monsters is clearly an activity
that would be helpful to the communities. Government health
officials and possibly the World Health Organisation or other
humanitarian agencies could support the work that the Army
is already doing enough on this, including research into the
local environmental conditions in which these insects thrive to
eliminate the breeding grounds. It would be of great benefit to
the local people and their future well-being.

The growing number of good schools in the area also

provide opportunities not only for good education and
vocational training for boys and girls, but also to inculcate

M o o n g l a d e | 127
awareness of hygiene, health, and also about the local
environment. Children are wise and like to share what they
learn with their parents. This will further raise awareness of
important community health issues. The same applies to the
Women‘s Vocational Centres. Sharing the benefits of health
issues and how best to address these, is extremely helpful in
spreading the word. This is already happening at the Centres.

The local people are not just leaving it up to the Army to do

the work; they too are taking the initiative. Although the Army
has built excellent local markets, it is a positive sign to see so
many small ‗tuckshops‘, scrap metal and building materials
depots, tyre repairers, and other small businesses along the
roadside. Farming families are adapting new techniques they
have learned from the Army to get better crop yields. Another
sign of positive change is the visible pride the Khasardars have
in their duties. There is no shortage of candidates to join up.

Tochi Valley has the potential to become a symbol of what

can be achieved in the process of bringing long-term peace and
stability and to become a prosperous area of the country. The
components are all there and the current situation is looking
very promising indeed. With support and encouragement, the
education of children and youth, improved health and well-
being for all, plus economic prosperity through investment,
small business and agriculture, the future looks bright in the
Tochi Valley.

It is difficult to align the constant U.S. mantra that Pakistan

is ‗not doing enough‘ in the war against terrorism when we
take a look at just what has and continues to be done. To say
that the mantra is unreasonable and extremely disappointing
is an understatement. So many lives have been lost in Pakistan
in a long battle to defeat the scourge of terrorism, much of
which has emanated from events in Afghanistan.

Operations across all seven tribal agencies, in Swat,

throughout Karachi and the rest of the country, and now
Khyber-IV to drive out the last remnants of terror groups in
Rajgal Valley have cost many lives but cleared the areas and

128 | M o o n g l a d e
terrorist attacks have reduced enormously. Pakistan is fencing
the border but, like so many other initiatives, this is facing
resistance from Afghanistan.

Pakistan continues to both fight any pockets of resistance

and at the same time move ahead with resettlement of
displaced families, rehabilitate and reconstruct areas damaged
by fighting. I have focused on North Waziristan, where the
scale of peace building and progress in reconstruction and
rehabilitation has been astounding. The work continues across
the agency at a rapid pace and will continue for some time.

As North Waziristan transits from a humanitarian

operation to long-term development, it is worthwhile looking
at the most recent achievements, and the challenges that lie
ahead that could hinder sustainable progress.

In the past two months, the Army has opened Razmak for
local tourism and it has been hugely successful. The long term
potential, assuming the tranquil and beautiful environment is
managed sensitively, is limitless. The weather changes
throughout the year and this small hamlet enjoys four seasons;
though sometimes in the course of a few hours. Sitting at an
altitude of just over 6,600 feet, and with mountains rising up
to 11,000 feet, it is today an oasis of tranquility amongst the
pine trees and lovely old buildings. A total surprise in Razmak
was when I visited the new 'coffee shop' serving cappuccino,
latte and assorted delicious treats. This for sure is going to be
popular with visitors.

During the occupation and administration of the area by the

British it became known as ―Little London‖ due to the
resemblance with an English village. When the British finally
departed the area after partition and skirmishes with the local
tribes, they left behind some lovely old architecture, and a
cantonment that even today, maintains the style of an English
village.

In more recent history, Razmak came under attack from the

Taliban with rockets landing in the cantonment. Among the

M o o n g l a d e | 129
targets was the Razmak Cadet College, established in the old
British barracks in 1978. These attacks, and the kidnapping of
several students, led to a full evacuation of all students for five
years until peace prevailed. Today, the students are back,
living and studying in their beautiful campus amongst the pine
trees and quiet calm on this old hill station.

The area around Razmak is rich in minerals that will

provide extensive opportunities for future industry and
prosperity for the local communities. However, I must add a
word of caution. Mining companies will need to protect the
environment to ensure that this magical place does not lose its
charm and clean environment.

The drive to Razmak from Miranshah along the new road is

scenic and provides glimpse of rural life as it gradually winds
its way into higher terrain past hillside compounds, small
farms and villages. A stop-off at historic Alexandra Fort built
by the British in the early 1900s gives a magnificent 360-
degree view of the area. A hiking trail follows the road up to
the top for those who feel energetic. Inspirational quotes to
encourage hikers dot the trail and, for those who are feeling a
bit weary, seats and tables are located at scenic points. This is
becoming a popular visit point for locals who drive there from
Miranshah and Mir Ali to enjoy a picnic. The area has its own
microclimate and the weather changes rapidly. During my
visit, within the course of an hour, the weather changed from
bright, hot sunshine to approaching rain and a sudden drop in
temperature. And just a few days before, snow had fallen on
Alexandra Fort.

Pakistan Army has constructed a new building for the

Political Agent at Dosali, an area between Miranshah and
Razmak, to replace one destroyed during the fighting. This will
enable the government officials to provide more effective
services to the communities in the area.

Over in the Tochi Valley, the new Golden Arrow Montessori

School has been opened in Degan for some very excited
children who attended the opening in their best and brightest

130 | M o o n g l a d e
clothes. This is such a significant step for the area and has
received great support from the community. And nearby at
Boya, a new Women‘s Vocational Centre has been opened.
When I met with women in Boya during my visit, they were
extremely excited about getting a new centre soon. Word has it
they are now very happy indeed and enjoying the opportunities
the Centre provides. Pakistan Army has changed the milieu
from terrorism to peace in North Waziristan.

And as another sign of the new normalcy, families were able

to celebrate Eid in their own villages. Pakistan Army arranged
five festivals in different areas across the agency with
enthusiastic participation of local communities.

Recently, an education seminar was arranged by the civil

servants in the region. This was a great opportunity to engage
the local communities in discussions about building literacy
and the importance of education. Parents are particularly keen
to get their boys and girls into schools and are very supportive
of education plans for North Waziristan.

Many other projects are under way and every month, a new
facility, a road, an infrastructure component, opens for the
public to make life easier. So things are certainly progressing
well. But there are still development challenges ahead. The
Army continues to do outstanding work, building on the
massive achievements to date. However, the job is not theirs
alone.

The Government needs to move forward on the FATA

reforms and set a clear path for the future. To do this, they
need to take the people along with the discussions so that they
are comfortable with the process to integrate FATA into
mainstream Pakistan, but without losing their culture. The
transition period will be lengthy and complex so it should be
started as soon as possible and with full engagement of all the
stakeholders. More funds need to be ploughed into the area for
facilities and upskilling of services to prepare for integration.
But at the same time, the reconstruction and rehabilitation
must continue till completion.

M o o n g l a d e | 131
 One area that has been sensitive is the matter of
compensation for houses destroyed or damaged in the military
operations. The Government promise was for PKR 160,000 for
a damaged house, and PKR 400,000 for a destroyed house.
This arrangement was not only for North Waziristan, but also
for entire FATA. The Community Loss Compensation Program
was originally envisaged as a more holistic program which
would have provided a range of support and capacity building
and training services to accompany the compensation.
However, a change in the methodology diluted the additional
benefits. The important issue though, is that all those who
have suffered loss, are compensated as soon as possible.

While many have already received their payments, some are

still waiting in parts of the FATA. This is an issue for the
Government that should be attended to as soon as possible.
The assessment teams, which include civilians and military
personnel, carry out their work on the instructions of the FATA
Secretariat once an area is de-notified. One thing that must be
borne in mind is that basic facilities and infrastructure must be
restored before an area is clear for families to return. The
Army has made massive steps in fulfilling these needs and the
majority of families have been able to return.

It is unlikely that PKR 400,000 will meet the cost of

rebuilding some houses so the capacity building and training
component would be an added benefit to assist in building
back better. Donors are encouraging the government to
include this additional benefit.

The international and local aid community has contributed

to a number of programs to help the returning TDPs. The
World Food Program (WFP), with the support of their donors,
has provided returning families with food packages for a six-
month period while they resettle.

The UN Office for Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs

(UNOCHA) is coordinating the humanitarian assistance.
OCHA Head of Office for Pakistan, Ms. Heli Uusikyla, visited
North Waziristan recently to assess progress on UN funded

132 | M o o n g l a d e
activities and identify gaps where further support can be
provided. On her return she spoke highly of the work being
done by the Pakistan Army in the reconstruction and
rehabilitation process. She also provided some insights into
future UN assistance. Ms. Uusikyla noted, ―USD 5.3 million
have recently been released from UN funds for NGO projects
to be implemented in the FATA, focusing on girls‘ education,
health, water and sanitation, and shelter support.‖ OCHA is
also working with other UN partners, donors and INGOs to
provide a coordinated transition to development.

There is one important need that is yet to be fulfilled; that

of children who have lost one or both parents whose families
are unable to properly provide for them. Because of the social
environment, women-headed households find it particularly
hard to earn an income to provide for their families. These
vulnerable children must not be forgotten. It is a challenge for
poor families across the country. Most find that they have no
option but to send their children to madrassas mainly because
they will receive free meals and accommodation. This places
these children at high risk of falling prey to any fundamentalist
ideas.

The Army has closed all madrassas in NWA and although

this is a major step towards maintaining peace and defeating
extremism, it leaves fewer options particularly for women-
headed households who are unable to support their children,
and for orphans. This is an opportunity for the people of
Pakistan to show compassion and support efforts to meet the
needs of these children through the provision of a safe and
happy environment that will provide house, ‗parents‘,
comfortable accommodation, nutritious food, and health
facilities, along with a good education. This will not only boost
education and keep these children safe, it will give new hope to
this area.

Moving from the first phase – humanitarian assistance – to

the longer-term development assistance, can be a slow process.
While some donors are keen to support FATA, including North
Waziristan, there have been delays in approvals. Even when

M o o n g l a d e | 133
the Army and other authorities are comfortable with the
security situation, the internal organisational security
processes for UN agencies, donors and INGOs can be a barrier.
However, all the stakeholders are working together to find
solutions and to proceed with assistance on a prioritised basis.

It is critical that the external assistance provided by UN and

INGOs is aligned with the prioritised needs as determined by
the people themselves, FATA Secretariat, and the Army. It
should be sustainable so that when the project funding runs
out, the communities are able to continue with the progress
envisaged in the project documents. Too often, when project
funding runs out and the aid agency departs, the situation
becomes static or falls into disarray. This is not specific to
Pakistan or FATA, it is a known challenge around the
developing world.

But the biggest challenge ahead is a regional one. What

happens in Afghanistan will certainly have an impact on
Pakistan, particularly in the FATA.

A recent bipartisan high profile U.S. Senators' delegation

led by the chairman of U.S. Armed Services Committee, John
McCain (R) and including Lindsay Graham (R), Elizabeth
Warren (D), David Perdue (R), and Sheldon Whitehouse (D)
visited Pakistan recently. Senator McCain has been one of the
more positive voices for Pakistan but following this visit, the
signs have been less encouraging. During the visit, the
delegation met with Foreign Affairs Adviser Sartaj Aziz for
what was reported as positive and engaging discussion. The
delegation also met Chief of Army Staff Gen Qamar Javed
Bajwa.

A highlight of the visit was a trip to South Waziristan to

view the progress in reconstruction and rehabilitation, part of
which has been funded by USAID. Senator McCain is one of
the few US Senators or Members of Congress who have made
regular visits to Pakistan and made an effort to understand the
issues in the tribal areas. But this time, despite very positive
encouragement when in Pakistan, once the delegation visited

134 | M o o n g l a d e
Afghanistan after leaving Pakistan, the tone changed. The
―Pakistan must do more‖ mantra reappeared. On arrival in
Afghanistan, Senator McCain said about Pakistan at a press
briefing, ―We have made it very clear that they will cooperate
with us particularly against the Haqqani network and against
terrorist organisations‖. He went on to say that, ―If they don‘t
change their behaviour, maybe we should change our
behaviour towards Pakistan.‖ Senator Lindsey Graham was
quoted by the Afghanistan Chief Executive Officer‘s office as
saying, ―Pakistan will be rewarded if it changed its policy and
punished if it didn‘t.‖

Despite almost a trillion dollars spent by the U.S. on their

war in Afghanistan, and large amounts by its allies, the
situation in Afghanistan continues to deteriorate across the
country. The Taliban are in control of large swathes of the
country and ISIS has moved in. It does seem that Afghanistan
accepts no blame for the situation despite enormous
corruption, unhealthy and shaky political alliances, and a
failure of policies. That Afghanistan has failed to halt the
spread of ISIS within its borders is of great concern to
Pakistan. The proximity of ISIS in some areas of Afghanistan
particularly in regions such as Achin, Nangarhar and Tora
Bora near the Pakistan border is alarming.

India‘s footprint in Afghanistan continues to grow and the

U.S. National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) for 2018
indicates that it may grow even more through the
strengthening U.S.-India alliance. The NDAA sets a time limit
of 180 days to develop a strategy for enhanced defence
cooperation with India. Pakistan can only wait and see what
that might mean. Also in the wing is the new U.S. policy for
Afghanistan, which is believed to include a tougher stance on
Pakistan. Another sign of a more aggressive U.S. stance against
Pakistan is the recent announcement that the U.S. will not
honour its commitment to reimburse Pakistan for the
outstanding $350 million from the Coalition Support Fund. Of
this, $300 million has been reprogrammed elsewhere and the
remaining $50 million will be withheld.

M o o n g l a d e | 135
 As Pakistan awaits the announcement of the U.S. intentions
in the region, it can only be hoped that it will do nothing to
destabilise the outstanding achievements for peace in North
Waziristan and all the FATA. Unless realistic and substantial
efforts are made across the border in Afghanistan to defeat
terrorist groups there and bring sustainable peace, and to
prevent terrorists from entering Pakistan, no matter what
Pakistan does on its side, it will be like clapping with one hand.

136 | M o o n g l a d e
 Siachen – Where Eagles
Fear to Tread
Feryal Ali Gauhar

It is still early when the flight lands in Skardu, the plane

setting itself down gently like a large bird of prey descending
upon a startled animal. In the air, I can sense the coming of
winter. The light throws gentle shadows upon the sand dunes
in this high-altitude desert landscape, cradled by mountains
which appear to be sleeping behemoths, their massive
presence awe-inspiring yet reassuring, as if someone is
watching over you.

In the arrival lounge, I was received by Major Shumaila,

Public Relations Officer (PRO) at Force Command Northern
Area (FCNA), who is stationed at Gilgit. Maj Shumaila is the
first woman officer in Pakistan Army from Gilgit-Baltistan and
had travelled to Skardu from Gilgit to receive me, bringing
along with her on the long and difficult journey, her young
daughters Eeshal, Nanny, and Ateeqa. These four females
would give me company while I waited in Skardu for the
helicopter to fly me to Goma, and then onward to Gyari Sector
where I wished to offer Fateha for 140 martyrs of the terrible
tragedy which hit that base on April 7, 2012, burying the entire
camp in snow and rock more than 50 meters deep.

Maj Shumaila had organized my meeting with the families

of Gayari Shuhada, the next morning. That night, I sat out
besides the lake at Shangrila and tried to imagine how difficult
it would have been for the families to receive news that your
loved one had been buried alive and that he would never
return. I watched as the birds flew home to their nests, their

M o o n g l a d e | 137
silhouettes dark against a luminous sky the colour of ripe
apricots and peaches which blush with the warmth of summer.
It was autumn then, and the trees were bare, the fruit already
picked and consumed or dried for the long winter. What was it
like for the wives and children, the parents of these men who
never came home?

Coming to Skardu is like coming home, in a strange, deeply

felt way. This is where my late mother chose to spend the last
twenty years of her life, caring for the many mothers and
children who would visit her health centres in Skardu and
Hussainabad, many of them severely anemic, most of them
malnourished, poor, clad in second-hand clothes bought off
the numerous carts parked in the crowded bazaar. For twenty
years my mother came to know these women and their
families, and came to hold them in the highest esteem for their
serenity and dignity in the face of so much hardship. I
wondered if I would witness for myself that same quiet grace
when I met with the widows the next morning. I knew that I
shared a sense of loss with them, having grieved at my
mother‘s sudden death in her beloved Baltistan, receiving her
mortal remains in a casket which had to be transported
through landslide and roadblocks along the world‘s highest
highway. In my heart there was certain stillness, a certain
acceptance of the terrible things which scar us, against which
we, mere mortals, have no power.

The air carried with it news of snowfall on some far

mountain peaks, and I gathered myself and my belongings,
tearing myself away from the lakeshore reluctantly. The day
had ended, but a journey still lay ahead, for which I needed to
prepare, for this was a journey like none other that I had ever
taken.

Her Limpid Eyes

―When my father left I did not know I would not see him
again.‖ Ambereen, not yet twelve years old, speaks like a
woman with many years woven into the fabric of her young
soul. ―He put his hand on my head and said: ‗Apna khayal

138 | M o o n g l a d e
rakho – (look after yourself)‘, and then he left. We never saw
him again. And he left us to look after ourselves, since his
father, my Dada, asked us to leave soon after we heard the
news of his death…‖

Ambereen is perhaps the most beautiful little girl I have

ever had the privilege to meet. Her eyes are like a lake, the
waters calm and limpid. She holds onto her aunt‘s hand while
looking straight at me, unfaltering, unwavering, trusting.
Ambereen lives with her aunt in Shigar while her mother lives
in Skardu, looking after the other three children, all boys, now
attending the Army Public School in the headquarters of
Baltistan. I ask Ambereen what she wants to be when she
grows up. Without a moment‘s hesitation she says: ―A doctor
with the Army Medical Corps… I want to make sure that our
beloved soldiers return home to their families and do not die
unattended, wherever they may be posted to serve the
country.‖

Ambereen‘s father, a sepoy in a Northern Light Infantry

(NLI) battalion, died in the massive avalanche which destroyed
the Battalion Headquarters of 6 NLI at Gyari, a barren
desolate place now, a veritable graveyard for the dreams of 140
men, both civilians and military officers and soldiers. There
were thirty families in the room with me, widows and their
children, gathered together to share their stories, their
suffering, their dreams and their aspirations. I learnt from the
women that when a soldier dies, his family is informed by
members of the unit, sometimes accompanied by an officer,
who bears the Shaheed‘s personal belongings and hands these
over to the family. I was told of the moment when the news of
the many deaths in these treacherous mountains came, of the
disbelief, of the inability to accept that their loved one shall
never return. One of the women told me that her husband had
come home to condole the death of his friend. He left the
village after three days, leaving his fifteen-year-old wife with
his aged father. He never returned, and the day his wife was
informed of his death, she delivered their child, a boy, who
would never see his father!

M o o n g l a d e | 139
 There were many stories, of widows who had to leave the
homes of their in-laws since they were now considered a
burden on the meager resources of the family. There was the
story of Ruqqaiyah who had to take her five children from her
in-laws‘ home in Shilding to Skardu after her father-in-law
took the money paid by the Pak Army on her husband‘s death,
leaving her with nothing. She remembered when the soldiers,
accompanied by a subedar came to the house and handed over
her husband‘s personal belongings in a trunk and a cheque.
Nine months after that day, Ruqqaiyah was asked to leave and
to make her own way through life. Her youngest was a month
and a half, her eldest ten.

I turned to the ten-year-old boy, Mehdi Ali, and ask him

what he wants to be when he grows up. He is shy, and almost
inaudible, so I move closer to him in order to hear his
response. He says that he wants to be an officer, or just a
soldier, like his martyred father. I stare at his pale face and
then look at his small hands, the skin cracked and dry. I look
up again and see the tears welling in his eyes, and I turn away,
for the grief carried in this little boy‘s heart is more than I can
bear.

With a heavy heart I returned to my room and prepared for

the journey to the north-east ranges, as close as possible to the
Line of Control (LOC) which has sparked so many conflicts in
the past 68 years of our existence. I study the maps I have
printed out, looking for the places where I expect to land in
this rugged, inhospitable terrain. These are just tiny dots in the
huge mass of rock and snow and ice, reminders of our own
insignificance in the natural order of things. I shudder to think
of what life for our troops must be like in temperatures which
fall below minus 40 degrees Celsius, even lower with the wind
chill factor. These are temperatures that were spoken about
with horror just last year as the ―polar vortex‖ hit the northern
hemisphere and froze even the breath rising from our lungs.
Why is a war being fought over masses of ice and snow and
rock in a place where no one has ever lived and thrived in the
history of humankind? The answer can be best sought from the
country that initiated and imposed this conflict, India.

140 | M o o n g l a d e
 I had placed my fur-lined boots and ancient woolen duffle
coat with its hood at the foot of my bed, taking care to
remember my leather gloves and the beret I have had since I
was a university student in Montreal, Canada, several decades
ago. I struggled with the choice of cameras, wondering if my
small steady shot camera would suffice or whether I should lug
the larger digital single lens reflex camera with its 300mm
zoom lens. Convinced that I would be weighing myself down
with an extra, unnecessary burden at altitudes where each step
requires the careful calibration of breath, I reluctantly put
away the larger, more sophisticated camera and turned down
the covers, snuggling up against the chill on my first evening in
Skardu. I knew it would be infinitely colder where I was going,
and I said a silent prayer for a safe journey, and another one
for the safety of the people I had come to greet, to talk to, to
learn from, and to write about. It is not every day that one gets
the opportunity to travel to bases where the snow never melts,
where the skin is burnt black with the sun, where the mere
touch of bare metal against bare skin can tear the flesh. It is
not every day that one meets the men who have lived and
fought at the world‘s highest battlefield, the world‘s largest
non-polar glacier which apparently has no strategic value but
which has claimed 3000 Pakistani and 5000 Indian Army men
since 1984.

According to one source, India gained more than 1000

square miles of territory because of its military operations in
Siachen, the source for the 80km-long Nubra River, a tributary
of the Shyok, which is part of the Indus River system. The
volume of the glacier has been reduced by 35 percent over the
last twenty years. Global warming and military activity have
been cited as the main reasons for the receding of the glacier.
It is time to take stock of human and environmental loss and to
wage a war against war itself.

But before I took this journey, it was important that I met

the families of those who never returned, buried forever in the
snows which cover the treacherous slopes of these, most
magnificent mountains.

M o o n g l a d e | 141
Feet of Clay

On the map the feet of the mountains are like the claws of
gigantic creatures reaching out to devour whatever they can
overpower. The ridges and crags are the bones of these claws,
the many rivulets and tributaries flowing down from melting
glaciers are the veins and arteries of this creature which lives
in the far north, watching us, waiting to destroy all those who
dared to venture forth into its frozen lap.

The helicopter left Skardu at the appointed time, Maj

Shumaila had left her toddler with Atteqa at a relative‘s home,
and we were airborne by 10:30 a.m. Lt Col Faisal was assisted
by Maj Rizwan in piloting the chopper, part of the ‗Fearless
Five Squadron‘ based at Skardu. We followed the Indus River
as it winds its way past Hussainabad where my late mother
had set up a centre for the healthcare of mothers and children.
I tried to find it from the helicopter – it was located at the edge
of the road leading towards Kargil, branching off towards
Shigar once it crossed the Indus. I followed the Skardu-Kargil
road, a snake winding along the Indus and dipping south with
the bend in the river, the ―Lion River‖. We were soon to arrive
at Youching where Brig Liaquat Mehmood looks after the
deployment of his men to the posts along the LOC with India.

At Keris, the Shyok River flows into the Indus, a grand

meeting of glacial waters rushing down from the barren slopes
of the Karakoram. The road turns south towards Khaplu, and
the helicopter flew over the hamlets of Ghawari, Kharfaq,
Daghoni Balgar, Barah until we sighted Khaplu, a picturesque
town nestled in the lap of the mountains, an oasis of stately
poplars, their leaves turning gold with autumn‘s first chill.
Behind us was the town of Saling at the mouth of the Hushe
River valley. If we continued north into that valley we would
come to the Masherbrum peak, located in the Ghanche District
of Gilgit Baltistan. At 7,821 metres it is the 22nd highest
mountain in the world and the 9th highest in Pakistan. But we
continued towards another range of these magnificent
mountains, the Saltoro, following the Saltoro and Ghyari

142 | M o o n g l a d e
rivers, flying over the town of Farowa and the hamlets of
Dunsam, Konith, Mandik, Palit and Haldi. Cautiously, the
helicopter began to set itself down onto the helipad at Goma –
the battalion deployed in that general area was a NLI
Regiment and its Commanding Officer, Lt Col Ghulam Ali was
accompanying us in another chopper.

I looked out towards the base and wondered at the courage

it takes to live in an area which appeared to have been hewn
out of rock, literally. These men are here to fight a war, one
which was waged on Pakistan and the one we could do
without, and on the face of it, they seemed to be living in this
wilderness as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Many of the men serving with the NLI regiment are from
Gilgit Baltistan, and would be familiar with living at altitudes
unbearable for most of us living in the south. But even these
hardy mountain men cannot endure for prolonged periods of
time the harsh temperatures at the further posts towards
which we were heading.

For survival here, not mere equipment is necessary, but

essentially the courage, motivation and hard professional
training of Pakistan Army. ―Our soldiers are trained to live and
fight where the eagles fear to tread‖.

The Top of the World, the End of the Earth

Sunlight falls on the slopes of the mountains and blinds one

with a dazzling glare. It is not possible to keep one‘s eyes
unprotected here at this altitude with the slopes permanently
covered with snow and ice. We arrived at Ibrahim Sector at an
altitude of 19,000 feet above sea level, and Lt Col Faisal had
instructed me to fill my lungs with oxygen from a cylinder
provided in the helicopter even before we landed in the soft
snow of the ‗Hasrat Glacier‘ lying in the folds of the Saltoro
Ridge.

The Saltoro Ridge originates from the Sia Kangri in the

Karakoram Ridge and the altitudes range from 5450 to 7720

M o o n g l a d e | 143
metres (17,880 to 25,300 feet). The major passes on this ridge
are Sia La at 5589 metres (18,336 feet) and Bilafond La at
5450 metres (17,880 feet), and Gyong La at 5689 metres
(18,665 feet). We entered the land of glaciers and crevasse by
flying over the Gyong Pass. Below us were huge tracts of
moving masses of ice and snow, rocks, and glaciers that feed
the rivers which, in turn, feed our crops, and feed humanity.
The glaciers are like massive brush strokes painted by a giant
who commands this land of mountains. No one lives here,
except for the legendary Paris and their consorts, the Deo of
ancient, from mythological times.

We had come to visit the thirteen men serving at Ibrahim

Post, commanded by Capt Rao, a young officer from
Bahawalpur. As Col Faisal set the chopper down, I saw three
big dogs playing in the snow – I was fascinated by this sight:
two golden haired dogs and a darker one, frolicking in the
snow as if that was their playground. These must be sniffer
dogs trained to seek out men fallen into crevasse or buried
beneath the snow. I was to later meet their canine colleagues at
the Goma where fourteen of the finest German Shepherds were
being trained for the same purpose. Having lived with animals
all my life, I am more convinced every day about their
intelligence and intuition, and of course, the loyalty of dogs is
legendary, something I am writing about in a novel based on
the heroic stories of Siachen soldiers and their four-legged
companions.

I alighted from the chopper cautiously, mindful that the

snow is several feet deep and that crevasses lie hidden all
around us. From the chopper I had seen the two men in
snowsuits, guns held at the ready, standing at the edge of what
appeared to be a ridge or a crevasse. What had startled me was
the rope that tied them together, a precaution taken when
guarding the treacherous terrain which serves as home for
these brave men. If one of them took a wrong step and fell into
a crevasse, the other one would be in a position to pull, or later
help in his rescue. It was an arrangement that tied both men to
the interest of mutual survival. Perhaps all of us should have
that rope connecting us so that when one of us falls, the other

144 | M o o n g l a d e
can pull us up – is that the way to save humanity from
destroying itself, by building such connections, visible and
otherwise?

I was careful with my breathing, concerned that I could

collapse by hyperventilating, or that the lack of oxygen in my
lungs could cause memory loss. I consciously shielded my
heart condition from the officers who had arranged my visit,
afraid that they would not deem me medically fit to undertake
the journey. Aware of the risk I had taken, I had promised
myself not to let these officers down, and so calmed my
breathing to a slow, deliberate rhythm, measuring each step as
if it was a question of life and death.

Indeed, living at this altitude has led to serious illnesses, to

amputations due to frost-bite, to burns which eat the flesh, to
heart attacks which claim the lives of the young.

I had to take this risk in order to understand the peril faced

by each of these men and their colleagues posted further up
the ridge. I had to meet these brave men, soldiers and officers,
cooks and porters, men who lived in an inhuman environment,
whose families received an odd call once in a while informing
them of the welfare of their loved one.

Capt Rao led Maj Shumaila and I up the slope to where the
men await us. All of them were in white snowsuits, their boots
protecting their feet from frost bite and goggles protecting
their eyes from snow blindness. Maj Shumaila wore the parka
provided for her, and I was pleased to see that she had also
worn the extra pair of boots I had carried, ―just in case‖. In
fact, this young Major looked rather fetching in her ensemble,
my boots matching the khaki of her sari, which, incidentally,
which she was wearing as her uniform and that is worn by all
women officers of the Pakistan Army. I believe Maj Shumaila
was among the few lady officers to arrive at Ibrahim Post
wearing a sari. History had been made during our visit; the
impossible had become possible!

There were further surprises up ahead – I made my way

M o o n g l a d e | 145
through the snow laboriously, praying that I would not pass
out and make a sheer fool of myself. I was assisted by Capt Rao
and a walking stick, and reached the flat area designated for
our tea time break. A table fashioned out of a carton or a trunk
and covered with a colourful table-cloth, was laden with
freshly fried pakoras, samosas and potato chips. Two bowls
contained fresh chutney and raita, and bottles of soft drinks
sparkled in the snow while tea was poured into delicate cups. I
had no words to express my awe as I looked around at those
men who had not seen their families or been near anything
familiar for several months, and yet had produced a tea fit for a
‗queen‘. How do they manage at this altitude to even light a
fire? How long does it take to melt the snow for tea? How often
can they afford to bathe? What do they eat, and how often do
they speak to their families? What happens when one of them
falls sick, or is injured? Have any of them ever lost the will to
survive here, in this wilderness where no man dares to get lost
for fear of never being found?

Capt Rao answered my questions patiently: it takes much

time to melt the snow in order to have drinking water, so
bathing is out of question. Food is stored in a special stone hut,
carried by porters using mules and donkeys. Beyond Ibrahim
Post only porters can carry the supplies as it is impossible for
pack animals to climb further (across the border I believe
mules are given shots of rum to encourage them to climb
impossible heights, deluding them with a sense of false
courage).

I met the porter who had arrived the day before – he was a
small man, from Astore, dressed casually in sweat pants, a T-
shirt and a jacket open at the chest. On his head was a woolen
cap and sunglasses to shield his eyes from the glare. He wore
ordinary joggers in his feet. Paid between rupees four hundred
and one thousand per day, he would climb up to the farthest
post at 21,000 feet, seventy kilograms of supplies strapped to
his back. I look at his face, a young man, his skin burnt black, a
smile playing on his face, and I wonder at the strength packed
into his small frame, and the resolve carried in his heart. He
didn‘t think much of the work he does – it is all part of his own

146 | M o o n g l a d e
survival in a world where war costs not only human lives but
billions of dollars a year; money which could be spent on the
welfare of young men like our porter from Astore.

I finished my tea and walked up to the slope where the

soldiers stood on guard, guns held ready. As we proceeded
slowly towards the several winterized tents and the storage
hut, I was directed to look up at the sky where a white fleck
flits in the air. I was not sure what I was looking at – I had not
expected to see birds at this altitude, though there were four
ravens flying around the storage hut, I was quite sure, unless I
was hallucinating due to the lack of oxygen! Capt Rao told me
it was not a bird we were watching, in fact, we were being
watched by a drone flown by the ―enemy‖ across the ridge the
moment our chopper must have been spotted. I thought of the
futility of this war, of the costs incurred, of the need to
constantly be vigilant, to ward off attacks in the middle of the
night, to survive the freezing temperatures, to continue to
believe in the value of war as a tool to settle conflict.

And in my mind I imagined the lives of millions of my

fellow citizens who do not have clean water to drink, adequate
health care, access to education and justice, or even a
nourishing meal twice a day. Could our warring countries not
put these resources and our imagination to better use? Was
there not a need to reconsider the hatred that fuels these
conflicts, putting the welfare of our people before ―strategic‖
considerations of the security apparatus? For what good is the
state if the nation is uncared for? If children die for want of
nourishment and drinking water and medical aid? If women
cannot choose the number of children they want to bear, if
men cannot find meaningful employment? These are the
questions that mostly pertain to the army across the border as
they are the ones who initiated this war, and also a major
hurdle in peaceful resolution of this hazardous ‗war game‘.
Indian leadership has much to answer to the families of
soldiers employed on both sides of the border.

I talked to the men at Ibrahim Post until it was time to go –

many of them were from Punjab and had never seen snow in

M o o n g l a d e | 147
their lives before coming here. Put through a rigorous process
of acclimatization and training in Skardu, Youching and Goma,
these men spent an average of 8-10 weeks at these posts,
guarding our frontiers. Once their replacements are ready,
they make their way slowly back to Goma where they are taken
care of any medical need and, where the barber cuts their hair
and shaves them, readying them for re-entry into the world.

I had seen that barber shop at Goma – it is like any other

salon in our beloved country, complete with barber‘s chair and
mirror, a collection of after-shave lotions and creams, posters
of handsome young men sporting dashing hairstyles, and a
vase carrying red plastic roses placed on a shelf with pride.
Just outside the officer‘s living quarters, another profusion of
red blooms bursted forth on a bush of wild roses, ‗Sia-Chen‘ in
Balti, a name given to a place on top of the world, at the end of
the earth, that place of absence and longing, a place which has
carved a space in my heart where I keep the image of two
ducks, three dogs, four ravens and many brave men safe,
etched into the velvet of my eyelids, engraved like a soldier‘s
badge of honour.

148 | M o o n g l a d e
 For World Peace
Maj Faqeer Hussain

Mankind has always been beset by the ‗difference‘; of

opinion, of faith and of way of living. Few 'constants', however,
remain unwilling to be changed or reduced to 'insignificance',
whatever the miracles the science can bring about; these are
humanism, virtue, justice, honour, charity, selflessness and
above all the 'sacrifice'. Life is an expression of sacrifice; may it
be at home or at battlefield. Every specie sacrifices to endure
the continuity of the coming generation. What, however, lends
reverence to the process is the element of 'Choice‘? The
choosing of the option with a measure of consciousness brings
the sanctity due to the 'sacrifice'; otherwise the process does
not go beyond the word 'compulsion'. In what cause, for what
principle for whose sake; this is what makes the choice so
sublime and sacrifice so venerable. Martyrdom, however,
assumes the loftiest pedestal. Imagine the goodness of a soul
willing to shuffle off the garment of physical life for the sake of
others.

Traditionally, a soldier personifies a figure who values his

life as a 'trust' and is willing to offer it in the pursuance of his
cause. Pakistan Army puts a high premium on its men and
officers who keep the 'flag of motherland' high, no matter what
the cost is. Friends and Foes are all full of praise for this
selfless fact. Combat or comfort, crisis or calamity, challenge
or danger, battlefield or peacekeeping, the 'Men of Honour' of
Pakistan Army have always outshone their compatriots in
prevailing against the challenges. While all the domains that
fall within the ambit of army obliging it to deliver, involve own
nation; the peacekeeping shines forth as an entirely different
enterprise involving the betterment of other nations. This

M o o n g l a d e | 149
particular dimension adds to the importance and far-reaching
impact of the role that a Pakistani soldier has to perform in the
international milieu and with the multi-nation force. Every
soldier represents the national ethos, embodies the national
character and reflects the national spirit.

The journey of humanitarian service by Pakistan Army

under the aegis of United Nations spans well over half a
century; with the deployment of first contingent in Congo in
1960. Serving all across the globe in 23 countries with 41
missions, the Pakistani Peacekeepers (including police and
paramilitary forces) have proven to be the veritable arm of the
nation projecting its standing and proving their competence.
The challenges surmounted in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Haiti
have become the part of their folklore. And the sacrifices
offered by Pakistan Army in Somalia are the part of the
chronicles of the United Nations history as well as the part of
tradition of our own glory. The Somalian mission of Pakistan
Army remains unsurpassed in terms of the commitment with
the cause, capacity to persist against the challenge and ability
to humble the hazards flung upon an unsuspecting body of
peacekeepers doing its service to humanity by a rogue and
unruly militia (Somali National Army – the militia of Somali
clan leader ‗Farah Aideed‘) that had the least ethics for the
combat or armed engagement.

Somalia is located in the 'Horns of Africa' with its coastline

running along 'Arabian Sea' and 'Gulf of Aden'. The
northwestern part remained a protectorate of British from
1884 and its northeastern, central and southern parts
remained a protectorate of Italians from 1889 until in 1949,
when it came under United Nations Trusteeship. In July 1960,
after the two regions were united, it was given independence.
In 1969, Mohammad Siad Barre seized power until, in 1991,
his government collapsed as the Somali Civil War broke out.
The famine, drought, starvation and inter-clan killings ensuing
the civil war ravaged the country's infrastructure and its
people. By end 1992, more than half a million people were
killed and more than 3 million were displaced. The world got
alarmed over the humanitarian crisis and the United Nations

150 | M o o n g l a d e
deployed its first mission UNOSOM-1 in December 1992. In
line with its commitment to the humanity, Pakistan was the
first country to deploy its contingent in Somalia earning
international accolades for its positive commitment to
international peace.

June 5, 1993 was a routine calendar day like any other day.
But not for Pakistan Army and men and officers of 10 Baloch
Regiment. It had in its womb the premonitions that a
Peacekeeping Force could never construe to be of any
meanings detrimental to their mission as well as existence. But
as the day unfolded, the tragedy unfolded too, making the
accounts of a heroic tale that was written by the blood of
Pakistani soldiers in the line of duty. A company size strength
of 10 Baloch Regiment was assigned the task of carrying out an
inspection of the 'Weapons Depot' owned by Gen Farah
Aideed, in line with agreed upon commitment. Located in
southern Mogadishu on 21 October Road, the site was reported
and confirmed to be a neutral place by United Nations Staff.
The unsuspecting peacekeepers of Pakistan Army, rather
imbued with the spirit of avoiding clash and combat, made to
the site. The roadblocks, gun brandishing and jeering by the
unruly mobs enroute, however, signalled the antagonism all
around. Avoiding to do anything that could incite or provoke
the situation, 10 Baloch set about to inspecting the cache.

While the team was calmly into the task, the unprovoked
fury unleashed. The Militia of Gen Farah Aideed was cunning
enough to wait and time its well-planned assault on the troops
of United Nations/Pakistan Army. With a massive fire of small
arms, machine guns and RPGs from well-hidden positions, a
battalion of gangsters ambushed the Pakistani troops, who not
only reorganized themselves well, but reacted back with
striking punch to them. The sense of danger and will to persist
was inbuilt in the combat response of our troops. The fighting
ensued and the casualties, too. Major Syed Riaz Manzoor
Shaheed (Sitara-i-Jurat) was commissioned in 10 Baloch
Regiment in 1984. The professional standards earned by him
over his highly demanding, albeit brief career speak of the
professionalism of an infantry soldier. He was chosen for the

M o o n g l a d e | 151
formidable part of the operation, as a rescue and evacuation
commander for the beleaguered comrades at the combat site.
While the vulnerability was a given, his ability to outdo it was
also a given. Sense and sacrifice were to be his swords in
surmounting the challenge. He employed both and did the
miracle.

Fighting his way through upto the combat site, Maj Riaz
effectively engaged the enemy combatants, carefully avoiding
the shield of ordinary women and children that distracted the
peacekeepers, and quietened the hostile guns. The toll was
expected, and the expectation came true. While leading the
rescue and evacuation operation from the front, the
commander willingly exposed himself to the danger. What else
can be the choice of a true commander in the face of the
danger; he has to grapple it to down it. Maj Riaz prevailed
upon the danger, rescued the comrades, evacuated the
wounded and surrounded to safety but not without cost.

His courage cost him the bullets in the chest; a true sign of
an honourably fallen soldier. Total 24 soldiers and one officer
of Pakistan Army laid their lives for the sake of humanity and
country. In recognition of his unsurpassed courage in the face
of the danger and his supreme sacrifice, this 'son of soil' was
honoured with the prestigious operational gallantry award,
'Sitara-i-Jurat', posthumously. His manly portrait adorns the
wall of tea bar of 10 Baloch Regiment but his soul must be in
the blessed hall of Heaven. Pakistan Army and the nation are
proud of and grateful to their Shuhada, forever.

152 | M o o n g l a d e
 Not the Bygone Days!
Brig Anwaar Ahmed

It is made to believe that the creation of Bangladesh was a

result of extreme hatred for the West Pakistanis by the East
Pakistanis. The most convenient and ever exploited ploy –
particularly the Indians are blaming the Pakistan Army for
committing gross atrocities. However, in both the countries, a
large segment of population has tremendous goodwill and
passionate feelings for each other. Such is the goodwill that
prevails between the two armies. This is evident through
individual soldiers‘ level contacts as well as between the
institutions. At the institutional level, there is a regular mutual
training exchange programme that is well under way for years
now. This cordiality is often at display once the officers and
men of both the armies interact and operate under the UN
peacekeeping missions. Here, I would share few occasions that
I witnessed myself.

In 2005, the troops of both the countries operated together

in DR Congo. On December 16, 2004, a unique gesture of
goodwill was witnessed. The Pakistani contingent had planned
to present sweets to the Bangladeshi contingent on their
independence day, while the Bangladeshi contingent had
decided not to overtly undertake the celebrations in order not
to hurt the Pakistanis‘ feelings. However, the Pakistani
contingent greeted the Bangladeshi brethren and thanked
them for respecting their emotions. Despite having own
religious teacher and mosque, the Pakistani contingent offered
Eid prayers together with the Bangladeshi contingent behind
their religious teacher who very eloquently offered dua both in
Urdu and Bangla languages. It‘s a case of sense of sacrifice and
belonging between the two nations. Next year on February 25,

M o o n g l a d e | 153
2005, the FNI rebels ambushed a 21-member Bangladeshi
patrol brutally killing nine soldiers including a Captain. It was
the second highest number of casualties the Bangladeshi Army
had suffered. Those who were killed included Capt Shahid,
Warrant Officer Sohrab, Sergeant Siraj-ul-Islam, Corporal
Atoar Rahman, Leading Seaman Nurul Islam and privates
Abdus Salam, Zahirul Islam and Belal Hossain.

There was a shock over the incident all over. On February

25 no other contingent was in a position to undertake the dead
bodies‘ recovery mission. The Pakistani contingent
volunteered to undertake this high risk mission. While the
armed rebels had still encircled the site, the Pakistani troops
on board Bangladesh‘s Air Force helicopters went in and
recovered all the dead bodies. There were emotional scenes
among the Bangladeshi soldiers while receiving the dead
bodies. On February 26, during the funeral ceremony, all the
civil and military staff paid respect to the martyrs. One of the
coffins was shouldered to the aircraft by the Pakistani soldiers
as a gesture of solidarity.

In order to bring the perpetrators to the book, one of the

rarest operations in the UN history ensued. On February 28
and March 1, 2005, the Pakistani contingent undertook a high
risk operation wherein 60 rebels were killed, besides their
headquarters was destroyed. Two Pakistani soldiers got
critically injured; one permanently lost his both eyes while the
other suffered hearing impairment.

Although the operation may be misconstrued as revenge but

a collective sense of loss and grief remained a force multiplier.
After a week‘s time the then Bangladeshi Army Chief of
General Staff (later Chief of Army Staff) General Moin U
Ahmed visited the Pakistani troops and thanked them for their
support to Bangladeshi troops.

The Pakistani nation has always been supporting

Bangladesh‘s achievements and successes. Dealing with the
history honestly and magnanimously will help shape the
future, rather than prejudices and bitterness. Despite Indira

154 | M o o n g l a d e
Gandhi‘s notorious remarks about the Two-Nation Theory,
both the nations exist as independent Muslim states.

M o o n g l a d e | 155
 Loga Operation
An eyewitness account of an operation undertaken by
the Pakistan Army contingent in Congo

Brig Anwaar Ahmed

February 25, 2005, like many other days of the year, was a
moderate day in Bunia, the eastern part of Democratic
Republic (DR) of Congo. William Lacy Swing, the Senior
Representative of the Secretary General (SRSG), was on
helicopter tour with eleven ambassadors from various
countries and was convincing them on stable security and
humanitarian situation in that region. The Ituri Brigade
Commander, Brigadier Dev Bahadur Ghale and myself, being
the Pakistani Battalion Commander, accompanied. It was
widely believed that the largest ever UN mission namely
MONUC was fast losing its credence in maintaining peace in
the area and was termed as ―toothless mission‖ in the face of
audacious and ever growing threats from various militant
factions against the civilian population and UN peacekeepers.

The entourage returned by afternoon. Deputy Brigade

Commander Colonel Mehmood, a Bangladeshi officer, broke
the shocking news that the nine Bangladeshi soldiers who were
on a routine patrol that morning had been ambushed and
killed. The worst was that the dead bodies were still at the
ambush site since the rebels presumably of the Nationalist and
Integrationist Front (FNI) militia had encircled the area and
were resisting evacuation.

The sun was fast going down and the aviation did not have
night flying capability. The gut feeling was that if the bodies
were not recovered in next few hours, they would probably

156 | M o o n g l a d e
never be recovered. Congo had a history of cannibalism. No
orders to any troops had been given in the absence of
command. PAKBAT-II (3 Punjab) was tasked to recover the
dead bodies as soon as possible. A quick rescue mission was
planned. Two MI-17 helicopters loaded with PAKBAT troops
were rushed to the site within no time. The area had been
effectively cordoned off by the rebels. Blue helmets were
identified with some difficulty. The rebels opened fire. The
troops jumped down from helicopters with running rotors and
rushed for the bodies.

All nine bodies were rescued amidst intense firing from the
nearby bushes. The bodies were badly mutilated. All the
weapons and equipment had been taken away by the rebels.
The Bangladeshi troops had gathered at the landing site to
receive their bodies. There were extremely moving scenes.
Everyone had broken over fallen comrades. Next morning, the
martyred were accorded highest protocol by the UN and local
administration. PAKBAT, as a symbol of solidarity and
support, carried one of the coffins to the C130 which had
arrived from Bangladesh to carry the martyrs to their loved
ones. The feeling of pain, loss and losing was beyond
description among the Pakistani troops. There was a deadly
silence after the aircraft left. Nobody knew what was to follow.
Under the circumstances, the UN mission couldn't go on.

It was huge blow to the reputation of the UN peacekeepers.

Bangladesh, one of the largest troop contributing countries,
had suffered the ever highest loss on a UN mission.
Bangladesh observed March 1, 2005 as a day of mourning for
its fallen soldiers, the day when Loga Operation was being
conducted. The Battalion was in no condition to undertake any
punitive action against the perpetrators. In the evening, a
meeting was called at the Brigade HQ to review the future
course of action. It was decided to undertake military action
against the rebels responsible for such a heinous crime.
PAKBAT was once again tasked for the operation.

I was leading the PAKBAT troops as we moved to Tche, a

distant location for this purpose. A platoon each from NEPBAT

M o o n g l a d e | 157
and South Africa were given in support, besides the Indian MI-
25 and Bangladeshi MI-17 helicopters. On February 28, a
heliborne operation against the suspected rebels‘ location was
conducted which was only partially successful in finding few
weapons. It was a tough and disappointing day. Late at night
Maj Abdul Hakeem Arif, passed credible information about the
Nationalist and Integrationist Front (FNI) headquarters in
Loga village, some 22 kilometres from Tche.

The information was passed quite late at night; hence no

detailed planning could be done. Ground troops mounted in
APCs set out for the operation by about 7 a.m. The convoy had
reached half way when an APC broke down beyond local
repair. It could neither be returned nor taken along. There was
grave risk in leaving it under the situation, that too without
long range communication. However, no precious time could
be wasted in deliberation. It was left under command a
Nepalese Captain with some PAKBAT and NEPBAT troops
with clear rules of engagement in case of a danger.

The rebels had been sufficiently alerted due to helicopters

and APCs‘ noise. As the APCs neared Loga village, they came
under intense fire. It took an hour to enter the village. Maj
Nisar with his troops entered the village by 1030 hours after
intense gun battle. I soon realized that the troops had been
surrounded from all directions. The football ground where the
helicopters carrying the South African troops were about to
land, had also been occupied by the rebels. The helicopters
unaware of the ground danger, were immediately sent back.
The troops under Capt Zia were rushed to get the ground
cleared off rebels. He reported that the rebels were using heavy
weapons including mortars and RPG-7s. This took
considerable time and effort. FNI headquarters was
established in a market as it was easy for them to collect
extortion from the population and shopkeepers.

House to house clearance was started as the troops made

their foothold. A lot of ammunition and weapons were being
recovered. Maj Amir Zahid reported about the presence of
some suspicious person in a mud room. The person was not

158 | M o o n g l a d e
responding to any warning. Usually no chances are taken
during the violent search operations. However, prudence
suggested a careful checking. It revealed that a woman had
covered herself under the blanket. She had given birth to a
baby that morning and had been abandoned. She was
immediately taken care of by our doctor, given some eatables
and was comforted through the interpreter.

On the other side, there was no let-off from the fire. The
rebels appeared to be under the influence of locally developed
drugs which made them fight irrespective of losses. In the
meantime, Capt Saqib reported safe landing of the South
African troops. By 1330 hours, it was decided to call off the
operation. Before the troops left the area, I observed that the
mud room with the lady who had delivered the baby, had
caught fire. Immediately, some soldiers were rushed to get the
two occupants out. Before the roof collapsed, the lady and her
baby had been taken out.

The troops reached the football ground with a lot of

difficulty since clean disengagement was difficult in the face of
rebels‘ fire. Having secured the troops in the football ground, I
asked Capt Deshpal Singh from India, the MI-25 pilot, to
engage the rebels. However, due to close proximity, the
engagement could result in fratricide, advised the pilot who
was observing the things in much better way. Hence, the
troops had to rely on their own. Immediately an APC carrying
106 mm RR on an improvised mount was moved to support
the troops. While the barrel was being lowered, it accidentally
went off. Two soldiers who were just behind the APC were hit
by massive back blast. Sepoy Itebar from the SSG lost both his
eyes, while Sepoy Gulzar Ahmed got damaged his one eye and
both ears.

Capt Desieko, the RSABAT (Royal South African) Platoon

Commander, was under tremendous pressure since his troops
were exchanging fire with the rebels across the elephant grass
surrounding the football field. He was asked to call back his
troops. The battlefield confusion was at its best. The PAKBAT
troops facing outside were about to shoot at the withdrawing

M o o n g l a d e | 159
South African troops due to their similarity with the rebels
both in complexion and uniform. With nerve-breaking care,
the fratricide was avoided. The South African troops had been
inserted through Bangladeshi helicopters, but for extraction,
the Indian MI-17 had been sent which had less capacity than
that of the Bangladeshi helicopter.

In addition, now there were two casualties which had to be

evacuated to the base hospital. With a lot of difficulty, the
additional troops were adjusted in the APCs. On checking the
fate of broken APC and route, the MI-25 pilots reported that
the APC was safe; however, the rebels had laid ambushes at
three different places. The troops were given orders to deal
with the situation. After clearing the ambush sites, entailing
heavy exchange of fire, the convoy reached the broken APC
sight. The APC was towed with another APC and the convoy
reached Tche around 10 p.m. Quick stock of men and material
was undertaken and found in order. It was difficult to give
count of militia‘s casualties. A careful estimate and the
intelligence reports suggested militia casualties to be around
60.

The success of the operation had lasting impact on the

overall stability of DRC. New locations were occupied such as
Magbwalu. It also paved way for elections. Success of the
operation was widely covered by the international media
though the local media was mostly silent. Maj Gen Moeen
Ahmed, then CGS and later COAS Bangladesh Army, visited
PAKBAT on March 19, 2005 and remarked, ―I am extremely
happy to visit 3 Punjab in Ituri, also very happy to see that it is
doing an excellent job in maintaining peace in the area.
Thanks a lot for the support the battalion had provided on
February 25, 2005, when we lost nine soldiers. All the best.‖

The performance of Pakistani troops caught attention of the

international media. The New York Times, in its March 3,
2005 edition reported, ―The gun battle took place on Tuesday
between 242 Pakistani peacekeepers and militia fighters. It
broke out at a heavily fortified militia camp near the village of
Loga, 20 miles north of Bunia, the capital of the lawless Ituri

160 | M o o n g l a d e
region.‖ ―While on operation we were fired upon, so we
immediately responded‖, the Pakistani officer said, adding,
―50 to 60 militia members had been confirmed dead.‖

A website ‗news.telegraph.com‘ commented on March 7,

2005, ―After years of passively watching while the world‘s most
vicious conflict raged around them in Congo, the United
Nations peacekeepers have at last taken the fight to the
enemy.‖ Al Jazeera network also took the story on its website
on March 2, 2005 and wrote, ―The clash was one of the biggest
involving the UN force in the DRC, where the militiamen roam
vast swathes of the lawless East Africa‘s third-biggest country.‖
On the similar date, March 2, 2005, BBC reported the news
commenting, ―the UN troops strike back in DR Congo. The
United Nations peacekeepers in the DRC have killed more
than 50 militiamen in a gun battle in the north-east. The
Pakistani UN troops had used helicopter gunships and
armoured vehicles in the operation against the militia.‖

M o o n g l a d e | 161
 The Black Hawk Down
A successful „rescue mission‟ conducted by Pakistani
soldiers that saved lives of many American soldiers

Lt Col Kamal Anwar Chaudhary

Mogadishu (October 3-4, 1993)

It was on October 3, 1993, that the U.S. intelligence found

clue of a secret meeting to take place in Olympia Hotel, a two-
storey building in the heart of Mogadishu city. It was learnt
that General Farah Aidid, the notorious warlord of the
troubled Somalia, and his aide Colonel Omer Jess would be
present in the meeting. It was irresistible for the eager
Americans to seize the moment and apprehend or kill the
Somali warlord. To ensure that the mission is accomplished
successfully, an elaborate heliborne and ground force was
constituted comprising the Army Rangers, Delta Force,
Gunship Helicopters, Little Birds, Black Hawks and infantry.

The operation commenced by a heliborne force, firing a

salvo of anti-tank missiles into the compound, while Delta
Force and Rangers roped down from hovering Black Hawks
towards the building. Whilst some Somalis within the building
escaped after the missile attack, the American forces were able
to capture some 24 civilians. To avenge the American intrusion
into their heartland, the Somali militia rounded up as many
Aidid supporters as possible and, within minutes, hundreds of
armed civilian-soldiers were marching towards the American
positions. They fired RPG-7 rockets at the three Black Hawks
hovering in the air, sending two Black Hawks spinning down
to the ground while the third, though damaged, was able to
escape. The ground convoy, a part of this operation, was to

162 | M o o n g l a d e
reach the site to provide intimate infantry support by
cordoning off the target area. This convoy too came under fire
on its way to the Olympia Hotel. Eventually, after suffering
casualties, the convoy managed to reach the building where
the civilian-prisoners were held. These civilian-prisoners were
hurriedly loaded on trucks, still under fire from the
militiamen.

In such a condition, the convoy resumed its move out of the

city while several soldiers had to travel on foot due to limited
space aboard the vehicles. As would happen in any such like
situation, the convoy was ordered to immediately reach the
location of the downed Black Hawks to bolster the strength of
the Task Force and also to help it extricate from an
increasingly ugly situation. The soldiers on foot reached the
helicopter site instantly. The vehicle convoy did not oblige and
moved back to its headquarters under orders of the convoy
commander who opined that the convoy had already suffered
enough casualties. This left the downed crewmen and soldiers
to defend for themselves.

As the nightfall approached, roughly 90 American soldiers

had made their defensive positions near the site of the first
crash. Little Bird gunships provided air support as best as they
could with mini-guns as thousands of Somali militiamen
closed in all around the ground forces. The survivors were also
attempting to keep the militia at bay while retrieving the
available medical supplies and ammunition from airdrops.
With wounded men, limited ammunition and a growing
militiamen presence, the situation for the survivors was getting
bleak.

Located in the Horn of Africa, Somalia was ravaged by a

bloody civil war which had started in 1980s. In January 1991,
Somalian President Mohammed Siad Barre was overthrown
and the Somali National Army disbanded. The erstwhile
soldiers reconstituted as irregular regional forces or joined the
clan militias. The main rebel group in Mogadishu was the
United Somali Congress, which later divided into two armed
factions: one led by Ali Mahdi Muhammad, who later became

M o o n g l a d e | 163
the president, and the other by Gen Mohamed Farrah Aideed.
The civil war led to the destruction of Somalia‘s agriculture
which led to starvation in large parts of the country. The
international community began to send food supplies to halt
the starvation, but vast amounts of food used to be hijacked by
the local clan leaders who would sell food to purchase
weapons. This situation necessitated the employment of a
peacekeeping force in August 1992 as a part of UNITAF
(Unified Task Force) and the U.S. military transporters started
and led the multinational relief effort in Somalia. Though
massive, the relief still proved to be inadequate to stop death
and displacement of the Somali people, besides growing
security concerns due to ongoing activities of the warlords. It
was in this context that the scope of the UNITAF was enlarged
to conduct relief as well as security operations. The UNSC
authorized the transition of UN force from UNITAF to
UNOSOM II and all fifteen Somali parties agreed to the terms
except Farrah Aidid. Defiant Aidid‘s militia attacked a
Pakistani force (10 Baloch) on June 5, 1993 that had been
tasked with the inspection of an arms cache located at a radio
station, which resulted in 24 casualties and 57 wounded.
Responding to the blatant act, the UNSC passed a resolution
declaring war on Aidid and his forces.

Still stranded in a grim situation, the UN Quick Reaction

Force (QRF) was put into action to extricate the stranded
personnel after the Black Hawks went down. This force
consisted of infantry, some remaining elements of the original
Delta Force and Army Rangers accompanying them. The
Pakistani UN forces constituted a major part of the QRF and
provided all out support to the besieged Americans. 15
Frontier Force Regiment and the Squadron of 19 Lancers
played the leading role in rescue operation.

The squadron of 19 Lancers was at the seaport to receive the

ship carrying tanks from Pakistan, when it received call from
the Pakistan Brigade Headquarters to join the UN QRF to be
part of the rescue mission being planned by the Americans.
The APCs of 15 FF were also placed under command the
armour squadron to provide local protection to the tanks. The

164 | M o o n g l a d e
task given to squadron of 19 Lancers was to lead to the crash
site, cordon off the area, provide fire support at the crash site
and cover the withdrawal of the force to the nearest Pakistani
base.

Tanks of 19 Lancers rolled out of the seaport at 2230 hours,

leading the U.S. Rangers‘ QRF and, with the help of effective
speculative fire, reached the crash site without any loss. Two of
the tanks took position on the shoulders of the narrow street,
where the entrapped Rangers were fighting for their lives
inside a building, whilst the other team took position on road
crossings on either side of this street. The U.S. Rangers
dismounted and went into the street while the Pakistani tanks
kept on exchanging fire with the Somalis, preventing their
efforts to get into the same street.

At around 0350 hours, the Rangers started coming out of

the narrow street and started mounting the APCs, but owing to
some wrong calculation of the APCs, it became difficult to
accommodate everyone. Meanwhile, the Somalis were
reorganizing to quell efforts of rescue force; and started
bringing heavy fire at the place where APCs were parked.
Therefore, the remaining U.S. personnel were accommodated
in the tanks and APCs of Pakistan Army. The convoy managed
to extricate and found a temporary reprieve at an open air
stadium-turned-hospital held by the Pakistan Army
contingent. At around 0640 hours in the morning, soon after
which the U.S. gunship helicopters started punishing all the
suspected sites of the Somalis and destroyed all the buildings
which, in their opinion, were harbouring the militia.

The operation by the Americans to apprehend the warlord

eventually became a huge embarrassment for the Clinton
administration. By the time the American Task Force was
extricated with the help of Pakistani contingent, it had suffered
73 wounded, 18 dead (including 3 Pakistani soldiers) and one
helicopter pilot taken prisoner. This episode had such a
shocking effect on the American psyche that it continued to
shape the U.S. policy for long term and restricted the American
involvement in the subsequent humanitarian crisis.

M o o n g l a d e | 165
 Pakistan Army proved its mettle in the time of crisis and
brave officers and soldiers added a brilliant chapter in its
brilliant history of peacekeeping operations. Ironically, this
incident is mentioned in the U.S. media, movies and literature
as an exceptional U.S. operation (which it certainly was not)
and gives a very cursory touch to the role played by the
Pakistani contingent, which actually extricated the U.S. Task
Force at the peril of their own lives. Had it not been for the
bravery and chivalry of the Pakistani QRF, the U.S. force
would have remained surrounded and obviously, suffered
heavier losses.

166 | M o o n g l a d e
 A Martyr of UN
Palwasha Faiz Khattak

‗Shahadat‘ is not just what we call death; it's something

more than that, higher than any rank, bigger than any
achievement and more honourable than any medal. When a
soldier embraces ‗shahadat‘, the eyes of his loved ones not only
have tears and sorrows but they are also covered by aroma of
pride, glory and honour.

How can his loved ones be so composed and calm? The

answer to this arising question is simple, the departed one is
not an ordinary traveler to the valley of death. He is a Martyr, a
Shaheed who has offered his blood, youth, dreams and life to
his loving country, his sacred motherland and for a secure
future of his fellow countrymen and the generations. He
willingly welcomes shahadat with open arms and smiling face
and with a contented heart, because he knows it is a pride with
which only a few are blessed, and he is the chosen one.

Allah in the Quran says, ―The people who get killed in

Lord‘s way, they live, finding their provision from their
Lord‖. (Aal-e-Imran 169-172)

Here is the story of a valiant soldier of the Pakistan Army

who embraced shahadat during his tenure at the United
Nations (UN) Peacekeeping Mission in Sierra Leone on June
29, 2004. The ‗Martyr of Sierra Leone‘ was none else but my
own father.

My father Lieutenant Colonel Faizullah Khan was born on

February 10, 1962 in a far-flung village Ali Khel of District
Karak (near Kohat). He did his matriculation from the

M o o n g l a d e | 167
Government High School Sabirabad (Karak) in 1978 and
further did his F.Sc. from the Government College Karak in
1980. With his sheer hard work and dedication, he was
selected for induction in the Pakistan Army as an officer and
joined the Pakistan Military Academy in 1982. Upon
completion of training, he was commissioned in 29 Frontier
Force Regiment (FF) in 1984 as a Second Lieutenant with 69
PMA Long Course.

The Officer had the basic instinct of extreme hard work,

sincerity of cause, and dedication towards his duty. In his
military career, he achieved all important milestones which
included his stint as an instructor at the Army High Altitude
and Snow Warfare School - Rattu, Platoon Commander at
Pakistan Military Academy, Brigade Major of an Infantry
Brigade, Commanding Officer 29 FF and General Staff Officer-
I (Operations) at 41 Division. He also underwent Staff Course
during 1994 with good grades.

Lt Col Faizullah was posted at Quetta after commanding his

unit in Gujranwala in 2002. After serving one year at Quetta,
he was selected to serve as Staff Officer in the UN Mission in
Sierra Leone, which is considered to be an honour for any
military officer.

Lt Col Faizullah joined his UN batch in Freetown, the

capital of Sierra Leone on August 18, 2003. Owing to his
nature, he kept on working hard and performed his duties with
utmost devotion.

It was a bright sunny Tuesday June 29, 2004. Lt Col

Faizullah was moving out for reconnaissance of the area with
other officers and staff. His flight was rescheduled from June
30 to June 29. Total 24 passengers including 16 Pakistan Army
personnel and 3 Russian pilots boarded the helicopter (MI-8)
at 0900 hours (Sierra Leone time). The take-off was smooth
and usual. It was around 1000 hours when the helicopter lost
its contact with the control tower and reportedly crashed
within next 15 minutes in the thick dense trees near the
mountains of Yengema. Heavy fire broke out at the crash site

168 | M o o n g l a d e
due to the accident. As soon as the officials were informed, the
rescue teams were sent to the site to look for any survivors and
to recover the bodies. The teams reached the crash site at night
as the route was difficult and the temperature was very low
because of heavy rains. The bodies were recovered and Lt Col
Faizullah‘s body was recognised by the artificial tooth he wore.

After seven days of long wait, body of my father was

received by the family and relatives at the PAF base Chaklala
and was then taken to our native village for burial. He was laid
to rest with full military honour on July 6, 2004.

He offered his life for the honour of his uniform while

serving abroad, which truly indicates that we are a peaceful
nation and do not hesitate from even sacrificing our lives to
establish peace, anywhere in the world. Later he was awarded
the UN Peacekeeping medal along with other 15 'Shuhada' of
the Pakistan Army.

Today, while I write about my father, the words seem to be

less. I miss him but, knowing that he is a Shaheed, consoles my
soul. Yes, I feel at loss and my heart aches when people around
me talk about their fathers, but I look at them with pride in my
eyes, a thing they might never understand. He has got a rank
most people only dream of, and I believe he was always special.
He was made for it but maybe it was too early.

It has been nine years since he left but he remains alive in

the hearts of his loved ones. He will be remembered for long in
our prayers and our hearts for the years to come. I miss him in
the sunlight, moonlight and the stars. May Allah bless him and
grant us the courage to bear this loss. Ameen.

I am a proud daughter of a great father!

M o o n g l a d e | 169
 Maximum Courage
Brief accounts of the acts of valour displayed by the
recipients of highest gallantry award Nishan-i-Haider

Col Azam Qadri (R)

Capt Raja Muhammad Sarwar Shaheed (1910-July 27,

1948)

Captain Muhammad Sarwar was the first Nishan-i-Haider

recipient in the history of our great nation. He was born in
village Singhori, Rawalpindi in 1910. His father, Raja
Muhammad Hayat Khan served in the British Indian Army
and rose to the rank of Havildar. He served with distinction
during WW-I and was awarded with a war medal. Along with
the medal, the British government also awarded him with
three squares of agricultural land in Chak 229, Tehsil
Samundri, Faisalabad. After his retirement from the British
Indian Army, Raja Muhammad Hayat Khan was also
appointed as the ―numberdar‖ of his village. He passed away
on February 23, 1932.

Since his childhood, Raja Muhammad Sarwar was fond of

reading and he acquired extensive religious knowledge. The
people of his village named him ―Sakhi (generous) Sarwar‖.
The chief characteristic of his nature was piety and devotion.
His other hobbies were horse riding, hunting, and playing
football.

He started his military career in the ranks as a Sepoy. He

was a self-made man who finally rose to be a Commissioned
Officer. He joined as a recruit in Baloch Regiment on April 15,
1929 and got his initial training from the old Baloch Centre at

170 | M o o n g l a d e
Karachi. He served there until April 30, 1941. On April 27,
1944, he passed out as a Commissioned Officer from Indian
Military Academy Dehradun and took part in World War II,
where he was awarded Burma Star.

After Independence, Capt Muhammad Sarwar joined the

Punjab Regiment of Pakistan Army. Capt Muhammad Sarwar
was serving as a Company Commander in the Uri Sector in
Kashmir when he was tasked by his Battalion Commander to
undertake a very important operation that involved a
preemptive attack on a well defended Indian position that was
to serve as a base for further operations by his battalion. The
Indian Army had landed in Srinagar on October 27, 1947 and
since then advanced up to Uri. The Indians had plans to
capture the remaining Kashmir. There was a need to stop the
Indian advance and save innocent Kashmiris. Young Capt
Sarwar decided to volunteer for noble cause of defending
Kashmir.

The strength of the Indian Army was more than eight

Brigades in Uri Sector and they were supported by tanks and
engineers. What made the task more challenging was the fact
that the Indian posts were located on uphill positions and had
many LMG positions and tanks in this area. The Commanding
Officer asked for a volunteer who could silence the enemy
tanks and guns by ‗surprise attack‘. Capt Muhammad Sarwar
said, ―Sir, I will perform this duty‖. Capt Muhammad Sarwar
thus planned his attack with diminutive details and the
essence of his success depended upon the charge with an
element of surprise. This called for highest level of leadership
to lead his Company by example, which he did by leading the
charge himself.

By attacking a strongly fortified enemy position under

heavy machine gun, grenade, and mortar fire, he not only led
his Company bravely but inflicted heavy casualties on the
enemy. Having achieved this initial foothold, he held it against
several repeated counter-attacks and finally secured it as a
base of future operations. In order to provide a safe passage to
his battalion, he volunteered to make way for the rest of his

M o o n g l a d e | 171
battalion.

On the night of July 27, 1948 at 0300 hours, he took along

six men, crawled out of his bunker to cut the enemy's barbed
wire barrier to make way for his battalion to move through this
gap for further operations. He moved stealthily and bravely,
closed up to the defensive position of the Indians and was able
to cut the barbed wire for his battalion to pass through. While
he was waiting to guide his comrades, he was picked up by the
Indians, when he was still perched up near the gap in the
barbed wire, he received a direct burst of enemy's heavy
machine gun fire, and was wounded badly. He however,
continued guiding his battalion despite being badly wounded
and eventually embraced shahadat on the spot. By that time,
the battalion was able to pass through, assemble and complete
its task successfully.

In recognition of his courage, selflessness, and bravery that

was beyond the call of duty, he was posthumously awarded
with the first Nishan-i-Haider.

Naik Saif Ali Janjua Shaheed (April 25, 1922-October 26,

1948)

Naik Saif Ali Janjua was born in a Janjua Rajput family on

April 25, 1922 in Khandbaz (Khandhar) Tehsil Nakial, Kotli
(Azad Jammu and Kashmir). Saif joined the Royal Corps of
Engineers in the British Indian Army as a ―Sapper‖ (Sepoy in
Engineers) on March 18, 1941, when he was only 18 years old.
Later, he served overseas for four years during WW II. On
termination of war, his unit sailed back to the subcontinent,
and remained stationed at Jullundur and Lahore.

After completing his service in the British Indian Army in

1947, he came back to his native town to apply his knowledge
to good use and started raising a volunteer Haidari Force. He
also inspired and got support of Sardar Fateh Muhammad
Karailvi. On January 1, 1948, Haidari Force was further raised
to a battalion strength and named as ―Sher-e-Riasti
Battalion‖, under the command of Lt Col Muhammad Sher

172 | M o o n g l a d e
Khan. Later on during the reorganisation phase of Azad
Kashmir Regular Forces (AKRF), ―Sher-e-Riasti Battalion‖
was redesignated as 18 Azad Kashmir Battalion. Indian forces
after landing in Srinagar on October 27, 1947, advanced with
the intention to capture whole of Kashmir. ―Sher-e-Riasti
Battalion‖ (18AK) of Pakistan Army comprising Kashmiri
Muslims could not stay silent and joined the Azad Forces
against Indian occupation. Naik Saif, being part of the
battalion, participated in these operations with full zeal and
fervor.

Saif Ali Janjua showed exceptional leadership qualities, and

was promoted as a Naik, well before his time and appointed as
Platoon Commander; an appointment normally given to
officers or Junior Commissioned Officers. While acting as a
Platoon Commander, he set personal examples in gallantry
and inflicted heavy losses on the enemy at Bhudha Khanna
where his platoon was given the responsibility to defend
Bhudha Khanna.

During this period of reorganisation of freedom fighters, a

major Indian offensive supported by armour, artillery, and air
force to establish link-up with Poonch was gaining momentum
in Mendhar Sector. A platoon of ―Sher-e-Riasti Battalion‖,
commanded by Naik Saif Ali Janjua, was deployed on the
dominant Pir Kalewa feature (6640) along the Rajauri-
Bhimber Gali route. The Indians attacked with 5 and 19
Brigade at Pir Kalewa on October 20, 1948; but these attempts
were repulsed every time. However, the Indian Army was
successful towards the right of Pir Kalewa feature and
captured Naili and Sarola. The defences at Pir Kalewa were
untenable and the situation had deteriorated further but Naik
Saif and his platoon were determined to stop the Indian
advance. On night October 24-25, 1948, Naik Saif inducted a
few more volunteers from his own village to strengthen his
post. On the night of October 25-26, 1948, Indian attack by 5
Brigade Group with armour in support and occasional air
strikes commenced all along the front was held by ―Sher-e-
Riasti Battalion‖. The Indian Army captured Bhudha Khanna,
which was defended by a platoon of B Company and then

M o o n g l a d e | 173
managed to isolate defences at Pir Kalewa.

The Indians successfully moved towards the rear of Pir

Kalewa feature, developed pressure on Barot Gali by 0500
hours and then launched major attack against Pir Kalewa
post. The Indians were allowed to move forward up to about
100 yards and then Naik Saif ordered his platoon to engage the
assaulting troops with all available firepower. He led his men
gallantly and continued shouting slogans of encouragement
while also passing instructions. Meanwhile, a complete section
had suffered heavy casualties, but Naik Saif single-handedly
held the position until the arrival of reinforcements. He
himself took over the Bren gun and started effectively
engaging the hapless advancing enemy soldiers from an open
place.

The devotion, highest standard of bravery and exemplary

leadership of Naik Saif was instrumental in forcing the enemy
to withdraw. The Indians reorganised with fresh troops at 0615
hours. After air strikes, Indian artillery, tanks and mortars
continually engaged the position for two hours. Then the
Indians resumed their attack on the post with fresh troops.
However, they again failed and were repulsed thrice.

Brave Naik Saif had in the meantime received severe

splinter wounds in both his legs during the enemy shelling, but
he continued firing his Bren gun. Despite his severe wounds,
he also continued commanding his men effectively by
encouraging and regrouping them to face renewed Indian
attacks.

By 1500 hours, fourth Indian attempt against Pir Kalewa

post had also been repulsed but the enemy artillery was
continuously and heavily engaging the position. The
communication with Battalion Headquarters was restored
during the respite in fighting and resultantly, the
reinforcement was rushed towards Pir Kalewa.

In the meantime, gallant Saif hit and brought down an

enemy aircraft with his Bren gun fire. It was at this time when

174 | M o o n g l a d e
all the available ammunition at the post had been expended
and the reinforcement had not reached yet. Naik Saif had
suffered huge loss of blood from his wounds; however, he
dragged himself around to collect ammunition from the dead
and wounded, and distributed it personally to the surviving
soldiers. Naik Saif was reorganising and repositioning his
surviving men to face another fresh wave of enemy assault,
which was preceded by even heavier and intense artillery
shelling, when an artillery shell hit him fatally.

The Indians could not succeed to capture the post despite

heavy losses until brave Naik Saif Ali was alive. Due to the
severe injuries, he embraced martyrdom on October 26, 1948.
The extreme selfless and most courageous conduct displayed
by Naik Saif Ali Janjua under worst battle conditions is a
unique example of chivalry.

On his unique selfless conduct and devotion to duty, Saif Ali

Janjua was awarded Hilal-i-Kashmir (posthumous), the
highest operational award of Azad Jammu and Kashmir, on
March 14, 1949. The Government of Pakistan, on November
30, 1995 notified the equivalence of Hilal-i-Kashmir with
Nishan-i-Haider. Hence Naik Saif Ali Janjua became the 9th
recipient of Nishan-i-Haider.

Maj Tufail Muhammad Shaheed (1914-August 7, 1958)

Major Tufail Muhammad was born in 1914 at Hoshiarpur

(now part of Indian Punjab). He got his commission in 1943
and joined the Punjab Regiment. At the time of partition, he
opted to come to Pakistan, and thereafter he joined Pakistan
Army, and got his first posting to 1/16 Punjab Regiment (later
redesignated as 13 Punjab). During his professionally
exceptional career, he served on several instructional and
command assignments.

In 1958, Maj Tufail Muhammed was posted to East

Pakistan as a company commander in a border militia
battalion of East Pakistan Rifles (EPR). During his tenure of
duty, the Indian troops infiltrated into Pakistani territory

M o o n g l a d e | 175
through the Pathoria Forest and captured a village in the area
of Lakshmipur on the Pakistani side of the border.

His battalion was tasked to evict the enemy and the

Battalion Commander ordered Maj Tufail to launch an attack
to push out the Indian troops from the village. The attack was
launched on August 7, 1958. Taking cover of the darkness, he
attacked the Indians by dividing his attacking force into three
groups. During the assault on enemy positions, Maj Tufail
Muhammad was hit by three bullets, that pierced his stomach.
He did not lose his wits, and using sheer will-power when he
was bleeding profusely, he kept advancing towards his
objective.
During the attack, he spotted an Indian Light Machine Gun
(LMG) that was making the task of attacking force difficult and
even accounted for the shahadat of another officer. After
locating this gun, he closed up and threw a grenade, silencing
this LMG. With fatal injuries, he crawled further towards an
enemy officer, who was aiming to kill a Pakistani soldier. In a
hand-to-hand fight, Maj Tufail Muhammad struck the Indian
officer‘s head with his own steel helmet. Despite being fatally
wounded, he led the whole operation until all the area was
cleared off the Indian troops.

By his sheer presence and leading troops from the front,

this brave son of the soil kept boosting the morale of his men,
who were now entangled in hand-to-hand fight, and finally
Indians fled, leaving behind four dead and three prisoners. By
the time the operation was completed, he had lost a lot of
blood and energy due to bullet injuries. At that juncture, he
conveyed to his junior officer, ―I have completed my duty; the
enemy is on the run, you take over the command now‖.
With the mission now completed, Maj Tufail took a sigh of
relief, thanked Almighty Allah, and embraced Shahadat
smilingly, thus becoming immortal. For his act of bravery,
showing great resilience and perseverance while leading from
the front, killing an Indian commander despite being wounded
in a hand-to-hand fight, something rarely displayed in war, he
was awarded with Nishan-i-Haider.

176 | M o o n g l a d e
Maj Raja Aziz Bhatti Shaheed (1928-September 11, 1965)
Originally named Aziz Ahmad, Major Aziz Bhatti was born
in 1928. During the period he was in Hong Kong, his name
stayed as Aziz Ahmad. Even the initials on the golden ring he
wore had engravings of ―A.A.‖ ―As a nick name,‖ said his
mother, ―We called him Raja‖.

In 1946, Maj Aziz Bhatti was enlisted as Airman with the

RIAF and within a short period rose to rank of Corporal by
1947. At the time of partition, he decided to join Pakistan Army
and applied for selection as an officer. He was selected for the
first course to be organised and run at the Pakistan Military
Academy – The 1st PMA Long Course. The Course started in
the last week of January 1948. Gentleman Cadet Aziz Bhatti
excelled and performed well in all aspects of life at PMA.

At the passing out parade of 1st PMA Long Course, Mr.

Liaquat Ali Khan, Prime Minister of Pakistan, was the chief
guest. For distinguishing himself as the best all-round cadet,
and for being the most brilliant in academics, Liaquat Ali Khan
presented the Sword of Honour and the Norman Gold Medal
to Gentleman Cadet Raja Aziz Bhatti. Aziz Bhatti‘s Khalid
Company (being Champion Company) was also awarded with
the Quaid- i-Azam‘s Banner.

It was generally accepted that of all the parades held at

PMA, this happened to be the finest. There was such alacrity
and power in the ‗words of command‘ of Raja Aziz Bhatti, that
even the spectators came to 'attention' in their seats! At the
time of passing out, he joined the 4/16 Punjab Regiment (now
17 Punjab) as a commissioned officer. With only 11 months of
service, he was appointed as Adjutant of the Battalion. He was
later on posted to the School of Infantry & Tactics, Quetta,
from where he appeared for the entrance examination for
Command and Staff College. Humble as ever he asked all
friends to pray for his success. As expected, his name appeared
on top of the list of successful candidates. His selection for the
foreign staff course at Kingston Staff College Canada was due

M o o n g l a d e | 177
recognition of his brilliance as officer. Leaving aside Pakistan,
there was hardly any other country where an officer with such
a short service was selected for that course. He was promoted
to the rank of Major before he left for Canada. Very popular in
the College he, as usual, distinguished himself in every test.
Writing to Brig Niazi from there, he said, ―My English seems to
be better than that of the Britishers; my exercise books hardly
have any red marks on the pages.‖

During the Kingston Course, Maj Gen Hayauddin (who was

killed in the Cairo crash), came over from New York. When he
saw results of the tests Maj Bhatti had taken at the Staff
College, he was immensely pleased and congratulated him.
Maj Aziz Bhatti passed his Canadian Staff Course with
distinction. On return, the C-in-C of the Army, Gen
Muhammad Ayub Khan, sent him a special message of
felicitations.

When September 1965 war broke out, Maj Aziz Bhatti‘s

Alpha Company was deployed forward of BRB Canal. On
September 6, once Indian advancing columns in their bid to
surprise Pakistanis found Maj Aziz Bhatti‘s men ready to
receive them with unwavering will to defend Lahore at all
costs. As a Company Commander, Maj Bhatti chose to locate
himself with his forward platoon under constant firing from
Indian tanks and artillery. He resisted for six days and nights
defending a Pakistani outpost on the strategic BRB Canal. A
day before his martyrdom, the commanding officer had sent
him word that since he had been fighting untiringly for the last
few days, he should take a little rest and that another officer
was being sent to replace him. Maj Aziz‘s reply is a reflection of
extreme patriotism saying, "Do not call me back. I will shed the
last drop of my blood in the defence of my dear homeland".
These words serve as an inspiration for future generations of
Pakistan Army soldiers and officers.

On September 10, while constantly observing the enemy

terrain, Maj Bhatti noticed some trucks speeding up at
intervals behind a cluster of trees, stopping at a point for a
while and then dashing back. It was evident that the enemy

178 | M o o n g l a d e
was again dumping ammunition and armament at that place.
In the meantime, he also saw a convoy of 13 vehicles moving
up. He kept his eyes on it. As it got close to milestone 17/18,
he ordered fire. The entire convoy was destroyed, engulfed in a
huge cloud of smoke. It was evident from the gunpowder what
these vehicles were carrying.

In the afternoon, IAF aircraft made their appearance felt

again, had a circle or two over the border, and went back
without any action. Things then appeared quiet; no transport
vehicles were visible, nor was there any sign of troops
movement. He had hardly slept for 15 minutes when he stood
up saying. ―Is it actually the sound of moving tanks, or am I
imagining it?‖ he asked those around him. Capt Anwar replied,
―You are very right. These definitely are tanks; I‘m already
trying to locate them.‖ Maj Bhatti picked up the binoculars,
and managed to get two enemy tanks in view. He ordered the
fire and both were knocked down. He continued to scan the
area but could not observe any further movement.
Nevertheless, he remained alert all the time.

But sooner, the enemy launched the attack with an Infantry

Brigade comprising 16 Punjab and 4 Sikh Regiments, with a
tank regiment and heavy artillery in their support. By 10
o‘clock in the night when shelling had stopped, Maj Bhatti
went upstairs and called all the others over the wireless set,
and then threw a flare to have an overall view of the area. By
then the light emanating from enemy‘s truck captured during
the day, that was set ablaze by the shelling enabled them to
watch the Indians. At the same time, shouts of Jai Hind were
also heard. Obviously, enemy tanks and infantry had come up
closer to Burki Police Station.

Maj Bhatti now reorganised his troops on the home bank of

the canal and directed the ―jawans‖ to take position along the
embankment. He climbed up, and started surveying enemy
activity in the area. At night, the Regiment Adjutant, Anwar
Muniruddin, came over to meet him. He narrated to him the
episodes of previous days, recounting the enemys attacks, how
they were repulsed and how they managed to pull back safely

M o o n g l a d e | 179
after the ammunition had been exhausted. Then he handed
over his gold ring to him. ―Make sure to deliver it at my place
in case I am martyred,‖ he urged.

Anwar put on the ring on his own finger. Maj Bhatti had
been wearing it all along since his Hong Kong days. He turned
to Anwar again, ―You are a young officer,‖ he said, ―You‘ll one
day write the history of your Regiment. Bhatti may not be
among you at that time, but one thing you must definitely keep
in mind – don‘t forget to mention the historic role of the
artillery in this war.‖ The last sun of Maj Bhatti‘s life had come
up. Passing to the left of Havildar Nazir‘s platoon holding
position near Company Headquarters, he went up the canal
bank, and started surveying the far side through his
binoculars. Havildar Maj Faiz Ali was lowered down the
embankment due to enemy fire. He shouted, ―Sir, there‘s fire
from that side – please come down.‖ ―I cannot look around
from that position,‖ said Maj Aziz, ―It is certainly dangerous
standing here but then everything is from God! If ‗Shahadat‘ is
in store for me, I‘ll welcome it.‖

Soon some tanks were seen advancing towards the canal

from the direction of Burki. Under their cover, infantry was
also on the march. Indicating their positions, Maj Bhatti
ordered fire. Off went the guns but the shells did not land
where desired. He quickly passed another message. This time
the shells found the target. He was overjoyed. Two enemy
tanks had been knocked down. Capt Anwar (Artillery) was
directing the fire. Maj Bhatti appreciated his precision. ―Well
done, Anwar,‖ he said loudly.

Just then, an enemy shell whizzed past Maj Bhatti, cut

across a nearby shisham tree and landed on the heap of bricks,
which had been dug out of the trenches and stocked there.
That point was hardly a few feet away. A cloud of dust arose.
His men around feared that the Major had been hit! They ran
towards him but found him unscathed. ―Go back to your
positions immediately,‖ ordered Maj Bhatti, ―This shell was
not for me; the one for me has yet to be manufactured in
India‘s ordnance factories!‖

180 | M o o n g l a d e
 Destiny was smiling at what Maj Bhatti had just uttered. He
was about to raise his binoculars and scan the enemy area
when an armoured piercing shot fired from an Indian tank hit
him in the chest and passed through his right lung. He fell face
down on the bank. Havildar Maj Faiz Ali and Sepoy Aman
Khan rushed to his aid but by then that highly dedicated,
valorous, selfless human being, an exceptional and unique
military hero had been relieved of his duty.

Pilot Officer Rashid Minhas Shaheed (February 17, 1951-

August 20, 1971)

Born in the metropolitan city of Karachi on February 17,

1951 Rashid belonged to the famous Minhas clan of Rajputs. At
partition in 1947, Rashid‘s father migrated from Gurdaspur
(Indian Punjab) to Pakistan. Rashid had a great passion for
aero-modelling and used to spend his entire pocket money
buying the aircraft models especially those of fighter jets.

Since childhood, he wanted to join the Armed Forces of

Pakistan. His school days‘ diary records indicate the same. On
August 7, 1965 he wrote in his diary, ―Today I promise from
my heart that out of three defence forces I will definitely join
any one.‖ His parents on the other hand were ignorant of his
hidden passion as his father always wanted him to become an
engineer. However, after seeing the eagerness of his young
boy, he had no other option but to surrender to his
overwhelming passion.

Rashid completed his O‘ and A‘ levels with distinction at the

age of 18 and joined PAF College Lower Topa for initial
training. During his days at Lower Topa, he displayed
extraordinary talent in literary activities and emerged as a
promising orator. After training at Lower Topa, he joined 51 st
GD(P) Course at PAF Academy Risalpur in August 1969. At the
Academy, his passion for flying saw no limits. He did his
primary and basic flying training on Harvard and T-37 aircraft
respectively and showed great promise.

M o o n g l a d e | 181
 March 14, 1971 was the historic and proud day in the life of
young Rashid Minhas. On this memorable day, he earned his
'wing' and became Pilot Officer. After spending a few days with
his family, Rashid went for the conversion course on T-33
aircraft at Masroor Airbase. Unaware what the destiny had in
store for him, Rashid started flying training with No. 2
Squadron.

On August 20, 1971, around 1100 hours, Rashid got ready to

take off for his second solo flight in a T-33 jet trainer. He
started his engines and completed the checks, the ground crew
gave ‗thumbs up‘ (signal to taxi out) and saluted him (not
knowing that this was his last salute to the young warrior). As
Minhas was taxiing towards the runway, his Bengali instructor
pilot, Flight Lieutenant Matiur Rahman, came on the taxiway
and signalled him to stop. Thinking that his instructor might
want to give some last minute instructions, Minhas stopped
the aircraft. Mati forced his way into the rear cockpit and
seized controls of the aircraft; the jet took off and turned
towards India.

Soon the radio at Mauripur (now Masroor) Control Tower

became alive and Minhas informed that he was being hijacked.
The air controller requested him to resend his message and
confirm that it was hijacking. The events that followed later
were the tale of great courage and patriotism. In the air,
Minhas struggled physically to wrest control from Rahman;
each man tried to overpower the other through the
mechanically linked flight controls. The instructor wanted him
to fly to India; however, the determined Rashid was not ready
for it. The ferocious struggle continued for minutes and as the
aircraft neared the Indian border, Rashid Minhas knew what
he was supposed to do. He knew that the honour of his country
was far greater than his precious life. Some 32 miles (51 km)
from the Indian border, Rashid Minhas deliberately put the
aircraft nose down and that made the jet to crash near Thatta.

Rashid Minhas rendered supreme sacrifice for the honour

of the country and became a national hero. Later investigation
showed that Rahman intended to defect along with the jet

182 | M o o n g l a d e
trainer to India to join his compatriots in Bangladesh. Minhas
was posthumously awarded with Pakistan‘s top military
honour, the Nishan-i-Haider and became the youngest man
and the only member of the PAF to win the prestigious
gallantry award.

Citation of Gallantry Award (NH): The citation of

Rashid Minhas Shaheed gives account of his bravery as: ―On
the morning of Friday, August 20, 1971, Pilot Officer Rashid
Minhas, a pilot still under training, was in the front seat of a jet
trainer, taxiing out for take-off. An instructor pilot from the
same unit forced his way into the rear cockpit, seized control of
the aircraft and having taken off, headed the aircraft towards
India. With just some 40 miles of Pakistan territory remaining,
Minhas had only one course open to him to prevent his aircraft
from entering India. Without hesitation and living up to
highest traditions of the PAF, Rashid Minhas tried to regain
control of his aircraft but finding this to be impossible in the
face of the superior skill and experience of his instructor,
forced the aircraft to crash at a point 32 miles from the Indian
border. In doing so, Pilot Officer Minhas deliberately made the
supreme sacrifice for the honour of Pakistan and service to
which he belonged. For this act of heroism beyond the call of
duty, the President of Pakistan is pleased to award the NH to
Pilot Officer Rashid Minhas‖.

Maj Shabbir Sharif Shaheed (April 28, 1943-December 6,

1971)

Major Shabbir Sharif Shaheed was born on April 28, 1943

at Kunjah, a small town of District Gujrat. His father, late Maj
Muhammad Sharif joined the British Indian Army in 1935 and
retired from Pakistan Army in 1965. Maj Shabbir has four
brothers and sisters. The eldest sister is Mrs. Khalida Saadat,
brother Capt (retd) Mumtaz Sharif, Sitara-e-Basalat, younger
sister Mrs. Najmi Kamran and his youngest brother, Gen
Raheel Sharif, the ex-Chief of Army Staff, Pakistan Army.

In 1950, Maj Shabbir started his early education from

Presentation Convent School, Rawalpindi. He was

M o o n g l a d e | 183
intellectually an exceptional student. While studying at
Government College Lahore in 1961, he was selected for
Pakistan Army and underwent training with 29 Long Course at
PMA, Kakul. Maj Shabbir was an outstanding player of hockey,
cricket, football, athletics and cycling. He had been declared
the best sportsman of hockey and cricket in Saint Anthony
High School. At the PMA, he passed out on top, winning the
Sword of Honour.

In 1965 War, after the commencement and facing tough

resistance, 6 FF operation was slowed down and suffered
casualties. The Brigade Commander at that stage ordered 6 FF
to send out a reconnaissance patrol to take a look at the
deployment of Indians on and around ‗Troti‘ feature. Shabbir
who was originally tasked to carry out reconnaissance saw an
opportunity where an artillery battery was in a state of rest and
not fully alert. Seeing an opportunity, he changed his mind and
instead of going back, he attacked the Gun Positions and got
them into a panic, thus forcing them to either withdraw or
surrender. He captured four Indian POWs and having
destroyed two guns, he brought along a field gun towed to a
gun-tower (Shaktiman). He put his own wounded soldiers and
Indian POWs in the same vehicle.

He returned with full information about the Indian

deployments as well as captured soldiers. Operations of 10
Infantry Brigade were resumed with 6 FF again leading on the
main axis with 13 Lancers in support and the other action
being undertaken by 14 Punjab Regiment, which were to move
on the right flank and manoeuvre, and get around Troti
Feature and face towards Jaurian. These operations were a
great success and the Indians panicked and ran. The Brigade
took a large number of vehicles, ammunition dumps and
POWs. It was perhaps the largest ever haul of men and
materials in all our wars with India. Maj Shabbir was awarded
Sitara-e-Jurat during the War.

In 1971 War, at the outbreak of hostilities, a preemptive

operation was launched to capture the Sabuna Bund in order
to give greater depth and protection to the Sulaimanki

184 | M o o n g l a d e
Headworks. Maj Shabbir not only captured that with lightning
speed but held his positions against all odds. During the war, a
company commander from India, Maj Narain Singh, had
sworn before going on attack that he either would retake the
bridge, or would never return. Narain Singh was also
interested in defeating Shabbir Sharif, as for the last two days
he had been hearing from his own men that the Pakistani side
had a very tough commander with them. While the battle was
going on, Narain Singh, with a few men, came very close to
Shabbir‘s position. ―Where is Shabbir Sharif?‖ He called out,
―If he has the courage, he should come out right now and face
me like a man.‖ Shabbir Sharif, being as hot-headed as was the
Singh, left his position and jumped in front of him upon the
call. Perhaps, Narain Singh could not make out that it was
Shabbir Sharif, as it was very dark, and he lobbed a grenade in
his direction. The grenade exploded a few feet away from
Shabbir and his shirt caught fire. A hand-to-hand combat
followed between Sharif and Singh. After a short struggle,
Shabbir managed to throw Singh on the ground and put his
knee on his chest. Taking the Sten gun from his hand, he
emptied it on Singh‘s chest. While the Pakistani soldiers came
to Sharif to check whether he was alright, those accompanying
Singh disappeared in the darkness.

The ferocious non-stop battle of December 4, 5 and 6 was

an amazing feat of valour and sacrifice led by the Company
Commander, Maj Shabbir. At around 1100 hours on December
6 the Indians launched yet another major counter-attack with
tanks, preceded by an air strike and heavy artillery fire. Maj
Shabbir started firing on the Indian tanks with 106 mm
Recoilless Rifle. While he was engaged in targeting the enemy
tanks, one of the enemy tanks fired with its main gun at him,
which proved fatal. Maj Shabbir gave his life leading from the
front and fighting until the last minute. Here was a brave man
whose mere presence was a guarantee of victory. He had said
this before the war, ―If war breaks out this time, I will not be a
witness to ceasefire‖.

It is worth mentioning that this operation by 6FF was so

humiliating for the Indians that in 12 days, they changed their

M o o n g l a d e | 185
General Officer Commanding, and Brigade Commanders
thrice in this Sector. He was decorated with Nishan-i-Haider
for his bravery and deeds of valour.

Maj Muhammad Akram Shaheed (September 25, 1941-

December 5, 1971)

Major Muhammad Akram Shaheed was born on September

25, 1941 in a small village named Dinga, very close to Kharian
Cantonment. He got his initial education from Chakri Middle
School, and then joined the Military College Jhelum. While at
the Military College, he was known for his skills in playing
hockey and excelled in it. He was also known for his boxing
skills.

On July 3, 1953, he left the college and joined the Punjab

Regimental Centre (then located at Jhelum) in the Boys
Company of 14 Punjab Regiment. This Regimental Centre used
to train boys aged 15 to 17 years for their future induction in
Pakistan Army. After completing his recruit training, Akram
joined 4/14 Punjab Regiment (later redesignated as 8 Punjab
Regiment). 8 Punjab therefore, is his parent battalion. After
having served for about 8 years, Muhammad Akram applied
for commission in Pakistan Army.

He was not selected in the first attempt; however, he made

it in the second attempt and was selected in March 1961 for the
28 PMA Long Course. He passed out in October 1963. While at
PMA, he led the PMA hockey team and won the inter-Academy
trophy beating PAF and Naval Academy teams. He was also
awarded with the PMA Colour in hockey. He also excelled
professionally by being the best firer in his course, thus
winning the Best Firer‘s Trophy.

On his commissioning, he joined the Frontier Force

Regiment and joined a very well-known Infantry Battalion, the
4th Frontier Force Regiment (4 FF) on October 13, 1963. All
through his service, he had a good service record, and was
promoted as Major in September 1970 after attending the
Military Intelligence Course.

186 | M o o n g l a d e
 In 1971, the situation in East Pakistan was getting worse
because Indian troops were consistently penetrating inside
East Pakistan borders, and were sponsoring an insurgency
through the so called ‗indigenous‘ terrorist organisation
―Mukti Bahini‖ to destabilise East Pakistan. It was not long
after that an all-out war started in December 1971. The main
objective of the Indian Army was to get control of Bogra,
thereby cutting off Pakistani forces in the north from the rest
of East Pakistan. The best way of getting to Bogra was through
the town of Hilli. The frontal assault on the Pakistan
fortifications took a huge toll on the Indian Army. In a
renewed effort and further strengthening, the 20 Indian
Mountain Division with strength of 20,000 men, led by Maj
Gen Lachhman Singh, comprising 66 Brigade, 165 Brigade,
202 Brigade, and 340 Brigade (all infantry units), 3 Armoured
Brigade, 471 Engineer Brigade, and two artillery brigades
augmented by 33 Corps Artillery attacked Hilli sector.

The ground troops were aided by aerial support provided by

the Indian Air Force, which had already acquired total air
superiority in the East and were armed with rockets, guns, and
1000-lbs bombs. On the Pakistan side, the Area of
Responsibility was with 205 Brigade, led by Brigadier (later
Major General) Tajammul Hussain Malik. 205 Brigade had
deployed 4 FF, 13 FF, and 8 Baloch Regiments. Maj Akram was
commanding Charlie Company of the 4 FF Regiment in the
forward most localities of the Hilli Sector. This Company
position was very vital and had blocked enemy's route of
advance. His Company came under continuous Indian Army
attacks duly supported by Indian Air Force, heavy artillery,
and armour. Charlie Company, commanded by Maj
Muhammad Akram, put up a heroic resistance that earned
praises even from the Indians.

He with his brave Company stood like a rock between the

Indian forces, and Pakistani positions for over two weeks,
despite the Indians outnumbered them in manpower,
firepower, and total air superiority, using even helicopters, and
aircraft to the best use.

M o o n g l a d e | 187
 Maj Muhammad Akram and his men repulsed every
successive attack, inflicting heavy casualties on the Indians.
This battle was unique as it had begun before the official
declaration of the Pakistan-India war and continued even after
the formal surrender of troops at Dhaka. The Indians on
several occasions, using megaphones and shoutings at his
company, asked him to surrender but Maj Akram refused.
However, the sense of sacrifice, valour, and chivalry was at its
apex for the men of this Company but their source of strength
remained embodied in the personality of Maj Muhammad
Akram, whose confident voice and firm orders to deal with the
ever-changing situation gave him a stature of a force that raged
even fiercer than any battalion. His conduct and resolve
incessantly generated high spirit for all his subordinates. Each
attack of the enemy on that day was repulsed. By the evening
of December 5 the enemy was only engaging Charlie Company
positions with tanks and artillery fire.

It was in such a deafening and shattering holocaust of fire

and fury, which had been constantly raging for about three
days and steadily weakening strength of the company was
pulling on to the hastily prepared defensive positions. Maj
Akram was personally conducting the battle from the forward
defended locality. The need to solve the nuisance of tank fire
became the need of the hour. At this juncture, the moment
arrived, which became a classic example of highest sense of
leadership, commitment and heroism. Maj Muhammad Akram
acted beyond the known limits of sacrifice and rose up to
create a history.

Carrying a 40 mm Chinese Rocket Launcher, he crawled

along with his runner right up to the clump where enemy tanks
were positioned and sited himself at the distance of almost 100
meters from them. From this position, he engaged these tanks.
With incredible precision, he destroyed three tanks. It created
an immense dread in the armour column of the enemy. While
adjusting the aiming sight on the fourth tank, the smoke got
cleared. An enemy tank spotted him, and quickly opened fire
with its .50 browning. He was shot through his neck. Akram‘s

188 | M o o n g l a d e
last words were ―Hold out until last‖. The bravest son of the
Paltan graced the ground as a paragon of gallantry and
heroism. Even after the shahadat of their Company
Commander, Charlie Company was able to hold on to its
positions, and foiled the Indian attempts to gain a foothold nor
were they allowed maintaining momentum in their attacks.
For his outstanding bravery, he was awarded with Nishan-i-
Haider, posthumously.

Sowar Muhammad Hussain Shaheed (June 18, 1949-

December 10, 1971)

Sowar Muhammad Hussain was born in Dhok Pir Bakhsh,

near Jatli in Gujar Khan (Punjab) on June 18, 1949. He was
the only son of his parents and had one sister. At the time of
Pakistan-India war in 1965, Sowar Muhammad Hussain was in
Devi High School in his village but the young Muhammad
Hussain had been so inspired by the role of Armed Forces that
he had made up his mind to join the Army. As a child, and
later on when he joined the army, Sowar Muhammad was fond
of playing kabaddi and was good at it. He lived a simple life
with clean habits.

He got enrolled in Pakistan Army and joined Armoured

Corps as a recruit on September 3, 1966 at a young age of 17
years. On his passing out from the Armoured Corps Centre,
Sowar Muhammad Hussain joined 20 Lancers. This Regiment
was then stationed in Sialkot when the war broke out in 1971.
Sowar Muhammad Hussain took active part in every battle
which his unit was engaged in, unmindful of any danger no
matter how grave was the situation. Despite his trade being a
driver, he always yearned to participate in active battle.

Sowar Muhammad Hussain was performing the duties as

driver of a Dodge truck in a Squadron of 20 Lancers. On
December 5, 1971, while braving intense shelling and direct
fire from enemy tanks and infantry, he went from trench to
trench, delivering ammunition to the 106 mm Recoilless Rifle
crews, who were engaging the Indian tanks on the frontline. It
was then that his vehicle got a direct hit by Indian artillery
shelling.
M o o n g l a d e | 189
 Since his vehicle had been knocked out, he was assigned a
new responsibility of spotting Indian tanks and then help
engaging them by own 106 mm Recoilless Rifles. He carried
out this duty most brilliantly and was able to locate even well
camouflaged tanks of the Indian Army. In order to do so, at
times he had to stay out in the open, changing his position to
know the location of Indian tanks. Through his correct target
indication, own Recoilless Rifles were able to hit Indian tanks
to good effect. On the following day, he went out with four
fighting patrols and undertook the most hazardous missions.

On December 10, 1971, he spotted the Indians digging in all

along a minefield laid out by Pakistan Army near village
Harrar Khurd. He immediately informed the Second-in-
Command of his unit. While having reported about this
development, he on his own initiative directed accurate fire at
the enemy resulting in the destruction of enemy tanks. In the
process, he was hit in the chest by a burst of machine gun fire,
and embraced shahadat on December 10, 1971. At the time of
shahadat, he was just 22 years old. Sowar Muhammad
Hussain had the distinction of being the first among soldiers
cadre of Pakistan Army to be awarded with Nishan-i-Haider
for his unmatchable courage and gallantry war performance.

20 Lancers has since been given the honour of being called

20 Lancers (Haidari) due to brave Sowar Muhammad
Hussain‘s actions and making his regiment the only armour
regiment that has been awarded with the Nishan-i-Haider.

Lance Naik Muhammad Mahfuz Shaheed (October 25,

1944-December 17, 1971)

Mahfuz Shaheed was born on October 25, 1944 in Pind

Malikan (now Mahfuzabad), Rawalpindi district. He was
enlisted in the Army on October 25, 1962. It is a coincidence
that the date of birth and date of joining of Mahfuz Shaheed
was the same, October 25. After his recruit training from
Punjab Regimental Centre, he joined 15 Punjab Regiment,
where he was posted to the Alpha Company.

190 | M o o n g l a d e
 When war broke out in 1971, Lance Naik Muhammad
Mahfuz was deployed on the Wagah-Attari Sector with his
company. His company was ordered to carry out an attack on
village ―Pul Kanjri‖ from where the Indian Army had been
exerting immense pressure on Pakistani troops facing them.
This Indian position was quite close from the defended
positions of Pakistani troops but was very heavily held by the
Indians. As part of his Company‘s attack, he was deputed by
his Company Commander to form part of the firebase and
support the attack by manning the Light Machine Gun (LMG).
Therefore, he was part of that detachment that covered the
move of the assaulting troops leading wave. As the attack
progressed, his detachment too moved forward with the
assaulting troops, until they were caught up in crossfire. This
crossfire was incessant, and that too combined with all calibres
of artillery shelling. His detachment kept creeping up and
during this act, his companion firing the LMG embraced
shahadat.

He got hold of this LMG and started firing at the Indians

with renewed vigour and motivation, inflicting heavy
casualties on them. While he was engaging the Indians, a
direct enemy shell destroyed his LMG. This did not stop young
Mahfuz. He had seen an enemy bunker whose automatic fire
had inflicted heavy casualties on his comrades. By using his
best training in the art of field craft, he closed up with enemy
position, going straight for this LMG position. While he was
closing up, both of his legs were injured badly by shell splinters
and bullets, and he was totally incapacitated and therefore
pinned down, unable to even walk.

Lying face down, he kept observing the battle scene and

decided to go for bunker that housed this Indian LMG. Hardly
fit for walking or even moving, he still gathered all his energy
and resolve to go for it at any cost to avenge his fallen
comrades and complete the mission of his Company. By
stealthily crawling initially, he managed to close up with the
LMG bunker and somehow was able to get around the rear
entrance limpingly, while the Indian detachment was engaging

M o o n g l a d e | 191
the advancing Pakistani attacking forces, he managed to
muster up all his strength, and not only pounced on the firer
but he went for his neck and strangled him to death with his
bare hands. Meanwhile, the other crew member, who was
watching the grappling match, managed to bayonet him and
got him fatally wounded, and he fell down more or less
unconscious by now.

His brave action resulted in the capture of Indian position

in a miraculous attack, and remains one of the finest actions at
tactical levels in the history of Pakistan Army. The attacking
troops managed to capture this formidable position by sheer
dint of the courage of Mahfuz Shaheed. After the 1971 War,
when the flag meetings took place, the Indian Army
Commander conveyed to the Pakistani Commander that he
had been in many actions in wars and real life, but he never
came across someone as brave as Mahfuz Shaheed. Former
Army Chief, Gen Tikka Khan said these words in praise of
Muhammad Mahfuz Shaheed, ―The Shaheed has set an
unprecedented example for emulating by all men of the
Pakistan Army. The whole nation and Pakistan Army is proud
of his bravery and actions‖.

Capt Karnal Sher Khan Shaheed (January 1, 1970-July 5,

1999)

Karnal Sher Khan was born on January 1, 1970 in village

Fujun (Nawan Kili) in District Swabi. His father, Khursheed
Khan was a farmer and his mother died when he was only
eight years old, in 1978. His paternal aunts brought him up.
His family is deeply religious, and they say that Sher was an
embodiment of piety and Islamic teachings. Karnal Sher‘s
grandfather Mr. Ghalib Khan had participated as a volunteer
in the 1948 Kashmir War.

When Karnal Sher Khan was born, his grandfather

proposed to name him ―Karnal Sher Khan‖. Karnal Sher‘s
father objected to this name but Sher‘s grandfather replied
that Sher Khan would accomplish what he (Ghalib Khan) could
not, and that he would become a Colonel in Pakistan Army.

192 | M o o n g l a d e
That is how Captain Karnal Sher Khan came to be called as
―Karnal Sher Khan‖.

Owing to his martial instincts, he joined Pakistan Air Force

as Airman in 1988, and was declared All Round Best Airman in
his batch. After the basic training, he was posted to the School
of Aeronautics at Korangi, Karachi for advance training where
he was awarded with the ―Chief of Air Staff Trophy‖ for his
outstanding performance. In February 1991, he was posted to
Risalpur as electrical fitter.

His mind was not at ease, and had a growing inner desire to
be where the action was. With a burning desire to become an
officer and to be a leader in action, he decided to join Pakistan
Army. The Inter Services Selection Board rejected him in his
first attempt. He, however, with his persistence made it in the
second attempt, and was selected for commission with 90
PMA Long Course in October 1992. He was commissioned on
October 24, 1994 and joined 27 Sindh Regiment. He is
remembered by his colleagues to be cheerful, and was always
smiling. He established a reputation of being a highly
motivated and devoted soldier. He was fondly called as Shera
(lion) and was very popular among officers and soldiers/
colleagues.

Desirous of some real action and to get away from routine,

he volunteered to serve at the Line of Control in Kashmir. His
request was acceded to, and he was posted to 12 NLI Battalion
in January 1998. He was soon deputed to defend posts in
Mashko Valley in the Gultary area of the Kargil Sector. While
defending these posts, he repeatedly pushed back the Indians
that were far superior in numbers and modern weaponry. He
dealt a severe blow to the attacking Indians particularly on 8
Sikh Infantry Battalion, that was not only stopped but pushed
back. He even counter-attacked the enemy during the day as
the situation demanded. He wanted to defeat the enemy even
if the cost was his life. It was a surprise attack for Indian Army,
as they were not expecting it. Knowing the importance of his
post, Karnal Sher was not only successful in forcing the enemy
to retreat but also followed them to their base camp, and

M o o n g l a d e | 193
embraced shahadat in the process. He killed many Indian
soldiers who became fearful of his attacks and ran away. He
with his twenty-one comrades moved with lightning speed,
fighting closely, and was able to penetrate the battalion
headquarters of 8 Sikh Regiment. During the close quarter
battle, he lost most of his comrades, was surrounded and
ordered to surrender but he decided to continue attacking and
fought till his last breath. He eventually embraced martyrdom
while fighting.

Indian authors could not stop themselves from praising the

ferocious counter-attack by Capt Karnal Sher Khan Shaheed,
Nishan-i-Haider, and his men on their blocking position.
Indian author Amarinder Singh in his book ―A Ridge Too Far‖
appreciated this act of bravery as: ―At 0645 hours the next
morning, the first counter-attack by a weak platoon of twenty
men came in; it was broken short of Helmet. Forty-five
minutes later, the two ―Sangars‖ (posts) manned by Naib
Subedar Karnail Singh and Naib Subedar Rawail Singh holding
the MMG and AGL on the forward edge of the perimeter of the
Helmet defences, were both hit by the RPG rockets, killing
both the JCOs. Havildar Sukhwant Singh took command and
beat off the first attack. However, a much determined attack in
greater strength and led by two officers was then launched.
Having lost his two JCOs and suffered heavy casualties, the
Lieutenant withdrew to India Gate, as did Subedar Sardar
Singh and his forward MMG detachment. The enemy pursued
them as far as India Gate. There despite the sustained and
heavy fire of Maj Parmar and his men, they reached the edge of
the defensive perimeter and did not falter until both of the
officers had been killed. Of the two Pakistani Officers who led
the attack, one, later identified as Capt Karnal Sher of 12 NLI...
was awarded with Pakistan‘s highest award for gallantry....‖ (A
Ridge Too Far, Amarinder Singh).

After his shahadat when his body was recovered, a few

Indian soldiers tried to maltreat his body, the Commanding
Officer of 8 Sikh ordered them to step back, and treat him with
honour as he had fought bravely. His remains were later
shifted in an honourable manner to Srinagar. He also stated

194 | M o o n g l a d e
that he should be rewarded with the highest gallantry award of
Pakistan. His written citation by the Indian Commanding
Officer makes not only him and his family proud but also
Pakistan Army, and the Pakistani nation as a whole.

Havildar Lalak Jan Shaheed (April 1, 1967-July 7, 1999)

Havildar Lalak Jan was born in village Hundur of tehsil

Yaseen, Ghizer in 1967. He received his early education from
Government Middle School for Boys Hundur. Havildar Lalak
Jan possessed a strong martial instinct since his childhood and
to fulfill his desires, he joined Northern Light Infantry
Regimental Centre as a recruit in 1984.

After successful completion of his one-year training at

Bunji, he was posted to 12 NLI (Northern Light Infantry)
Regiment in 1985. Havildar Lalak Jan was having smart
military bearing and therefore, picked up for training as a part
of special guards. Seeing his smart military bearing and
disciplined conduct as special guard, Lalak Jan was included in
the General Officer Commanding (GOC) Guard of 12 Division.
He was later on selected to represent his battalion in Brigade
commando platoon competition, where he secured the first
position. In 1994, Havildar Lalak Jan was posted as weapon
training instructor in (NLI) Regiment Training Centre Bunji.
He remained Company Havildar Major of Jinnah Company
and performed the duties of Special Guard Commander at
Yadgar-e-Shuhada in the Regimental Centre. He was posted
back to the unit in December 1997, and was appointed
Company Havildar Major of Alpha Company.

In the 1999 Kargil conflict, Havildar Lalak Jan was Second-

in-Command of his post along Line of Control. During the
course of war, the Indian forces attacked his post many times.
Havildar Lalak Jan was deployed ahead of his post as 'screens'
to give early warning as well as inflict casualties on the enemy.
Havildar Lalak Jan along with his two men at the 'screens' was
repulsing the Indian attacks with great valour, and was able to
inflict heavy causalties on the Indians with his Light Machine
Gun (LMG). On July 5 around 1700 hours, Lance Naik Bashir

M o o n g l a d e | 195
and Sepoy Bakhmal Shah embraced shahadat due to Indian
sniper fire, yet Havildar Lalak Jan stood fast alone against the
advancing enemy. Meanwhile, intense enemy attacks and long
fight resulted in shortage of ammunition and Havildar Lalak
Jan went to the dead enemy soldiers and collected their
weapons and ammunition, and started repulsing the Indian
attacks with more valour and vigour. By 1830 hours, Havildar
Lalak Jan received one bullet of enemy automatics but refused
to vacate his position. Despite his injury he was manning all
the firing bays around his position simultaneously in order to
paint a false picture of own manpower to the Indians.
Meanwhile, he received two more bullets during the combat,
but kept the Indians at bay for five consecutive days despite
being outnumbered. Miraculously, reinforcement from the
battalion headquarters under command of Capt Kashif Khalil
and Capt Ahmad arrived at about 0400 hours on July 7, 1999
and the position was restored.

On seeing the condition of Lalak Jan, Capt Ahmed told him

to go back to the base camp as his arm was in no condition to
be used. Lalak Jan told his officer that he did not want to die
on a hospital bed, but would rather die in the battlefield. He
told him that he should not worry about the arm. While this
was going on, the Indians started shelling from a secret bunker
in an adjacent hill. By that time, Capt Ahmad had taken up the
command of the handful of troops. He realised that the fire
was coming from a hidden bunker and directed fire towards it,
but the effort was in vain. There was only one way left to
counter the hidden Indian bunker; it had to be blown up from
a closer range.

When the injured Lalak Jan volunteered for the mission,

the Captain, who was of the opinion that he would do it
himself, immediately rejected his plea. However, Lalak Jan
persuaded him, giving him his previous landmine laying
experience coupled with his mountaineering skills as the
qualifying conditions for his selection for the task. The Captain
agreed.

Lalak Jan put a bag of explosives on his back, and while

196 | M o o n g l a d e
shouldering an AK-47 descended the hill for the second time
amidst heavy Indian shelling. Managing to avoid being seen by
the Indian forces, and utilising his knowledge of the hills to
take cover, he located the secret bunker and threw the
explosives inside. The bunker, which was also an ammunition
dump, blew up in what was probably the biggest blast ever
heard in that area. Lalak Jan managed to take cover, but the
Indian Army lost 19 to 20 men inside and around the bunker.
The other Indian soldiers saw Lalak Jan, and opened fire on
him. Surrounded from all sides by Indian fire, Lalak Jan tried
to resist and return fire. This effort was in vain, and Lalak Jan
embraced shahadat when a number of bullets pierced through
his chest. Later, the Commanding Officer of 12 NLI sent two
commando forces to recover the body of Lalak Jan. The two
forces were called ‗Ababeel‘ and ‗Uqaab‘. Ababeel provided the
covering fire while Uqaab went into the destroyed enemy
bunker to retrieve the body of Lalak Jan. When his body was
found, Lalak Jan had his AK-47 clinched to his chest.

The unflinching courage and bravery of Havildar Lalak Jan

and his men at Qadir Post was also acknowledged by the
enemy forces attacking Qadir Post in the following words:
―There were no wounded and no prisoners. Nor any man
abandoned his position. It has been most gallant defense
action fought to the last man last bullet‖. The undaunted
valour and courage displayed by Havildar Lalak Jan Shaheed
wrote shinning pages of history, which will remain alive as a
source of motivation for generations in profession of soldiery.

M o o n g l a d e | 197
 A Soldiers‟ General
An attribute to Maj Gen Sanaullah Niazi Shaheed and
his achievements with special focus on his Swat vision

Col Syed Imran Naqvi, TJ

And say NOT of those who are killed in the way of Allah,
‗they are dead‘. Nay, they are living, but you perceive (it)
not.

(Al Baqarah-154)

Few people in this world have such an existence that they

are larger than life itself and even death is incapable of erasing
their presence.

The history of Pakistan Army is replete with examples of

resolute bravery, selfless leadership and supreme sacrifices.
The military leaders in Pakistan Army always take pride in
leading troops from the front, and this is the reason that the
casualty ratio between the leaders and the led in Pakistan
Army is one of the highest in the world and we are surely
proud of it.

Of late a new chapter of bravery was added in the archives

of audacious achievements, when Major General Sanaullah
Khan Niazi along with Lieutenant Colonel Tauseef and Lance
Naik Irfan Sattar embraced shahadat near the Pakistan-
Afghan border in District Upper Dir. ―To Allah we belong and
to Whom we shall return.‖

The General entered the operational area in February 2013

as General Officer Commanding (GOC) of the infantry division

198 | M o o n g l a d e
deployed in Swat. He was a visionary military commander and
a staunch supporter of breaking the status quo. In a short span
of just seven months, besides ensuring stable security
environment, the General pursued numerous socio-economic
events in Swat. It was due to his relentless efforts that tourism
got revived, bringing back life to normalcy and business to the
commoners of Malakand. His earnest endeavours, besides
catalysing his predecessors‘ contributions, ensured the
changing of local and international perception about Swat,
which has indeed become ―A Success Story‖ of the Pakistan
Army.

The aura around General Sanaullah was that of compassion,

logic and wisdom above and beyond ordinary minds. His
vision was to restore normalcy in Swat and enable the civil
administration to gradually take over the Malakand region,
while retaining the built-in capability of the Army to react
expeditiously (when required). It was due to this clarity of
thought and his power of decision that the General was
respected in military and civil circles alike. He was a beacon of
hope under which Swat was progressing at a rapid pace and an
all-encompassing approach was being pursued to build the
capacity of law enforcement agencies and ultimately ensure a
smooth transition in times to come.

Maj Gen Sanaullah was born on September 10, 1963 in a

respectable family from Daudkhel, Mianwali, the people of
which are known for their valour and respect for human
values. 'Like Father, like Son', the General was brought up to
become an upright and an honest human being like his father,
DSP Khalas Khan, a legendary Police officer, who served most
part of his career in Quetta. After his basic education, the
General joined the Pakistan Army in December 1983 and was
commissioned in one of the prestigious Baloch Regiments. Gen
Sana was a thorough professional and a true infantry man,
whose affection towards his troops earned him an eternal
name; A Soldiers‘ General. A kind and contended heart was a
distinct attribute of his personality, which earned him great
respect of his under commands.

M o o n g l a d e | 199
 During his illustrious career, the General served at almost
all-important assignments. A graduate of Command and Staff
College, Quetta and Armed Forces War Course (National
Defence University) from both Islamabad and China, he also
had a vast experience of command, staff and instructional
assignments. The General remained as a Brigade Major of an
Infantry Brigade (twice), General Staff Officer Grade 2 (Chief
of General Staff Secretariat) and Director Military Training -
Combat (Military Training Directorate). He commanded an
Infantry Battalion and an Independent Infantry Brigade
Group. He served as a Military Observer in the United Nations
Mission in Angola and also commanded a contingent in the
United Nations Mission, Sierra Leone. He also served on the
faculty of Pakistan Military Academy, School of Infantry &
Tactics and Command and Staff College, Quetta. He was
happily married, and had two daughters.

He always stressed upon setting a personal example and

leading from the front. His urge to spend maximum time with
his troops at the forward posts made him travel very
frequently, despite the risk of presenting a high value target. It
was due to this insistence that he was a very regular visitor of
his Area of Responsibility (AoR) and, meeting officers, troops
and even civilians (Lashkar commanders) was a normal
routine. I remember once (a week prior to his shahadat), when
a threat to a forward post (along Pakistan-Afghanistan border)
was shared with him, he was most desperate to reach his men
the same night.

On September 14, 2013, Maj Gen Sanaullah departed from

his headquarters on an operational visit of the border posts in
Chitral and Upper Dir. After visiting Arandu Post in Chitral, he
landed on Sabar OP (Upper Dir) in a helicopter and moved on
foot to Malatar Post. Owing to the tragic incident of June 24,
2012, when a sanitization operation in Sunai Darra (Upper
Dir), claimed precious lives of 18 soldiers of 33 Baloch, the
General always wished to stay a night at Malatar post to boost
the morale of his troops.

On September 15, after the night stay at the border post,

200 | M o o n g l a d e
while moving to the Battalion Headquarters of 33 Baloch, an
Improvised Explosive Device (IED) exploded under the vehicle
of the General Officer, resulting in his shahadat along with
Lieutenant Colonel Tauseef (Commanding Officer 33 Baloch)
and Lance Naik Irfan, 33 Baloch.

It was due to the General‘s audacious and undaunted

policies that the terrorists were unable to recreate any space
and were thus desperate to exploit any fleeting opportunity.
The people responsible for the General‘s martyrdom should be
considered nothing more than barbarians. Their sole purpose
is to undo the efforts made by the Pakistan Army, thus posing
a clear and present danger to the state. Their actions over the
years have proven the fact that there is no trace of humanity or
reason in the hearts of the enemy. Their heinous crimes should
not go unpunished and their malevolent intentions towards
Pakistan must never materialise. The great sacrifices made by
him and hundreds of other brave officers and soldiers of our
Army will certainly bear fruit, Insha Allah!

Maj Gen Sanaullah Shaheed was indeed a Soldiers‘ General

and a true specimen of a gallant military leader, who laid his
life for his men. His distinct attributes of loyalty to his country,
simplicity and quick decision-making earned him great respect
of his subordinates, colleagues and seniors. The likes of Gen
Sanaullah can only be found in the pages of illustrious Muslim
history.

May Allah grant him the highest pedestal in Jannah

(Ameen).

M o o n g l a d e | 201
 Soldiers for Life
Lt Gen Tariq Waseem (R)

What is it that binds people together, year after year after

year? A shared destiny, belief in a common cause, a unifying
culture, cherished memories, and the strength that comes from
an abiding relationship. This is the sum of a military
professional‘s espirit de corps, at the heart of the camaraderie
that marks its members as part of a unique enterprise. Military
men join up as strangers, arriving from disparate backgrounds
and from all corners of the land. They begin to live together
through all the vagaries that the demands of their solemn oath
places upon them. They share great moments, reveling in each
other‘s joys and achievements, providing strength in their
sorrows, and building around them a vast family that becomes
a ‗band of brothers‘ knitted together by collective experiences.
When the time comes to bid farewell they merely fade away,
but they can never leave. We are all soldiers for life!

Recently, I had the tremendous good fortune to witness all

of this in person. The occasion was the Golden Jubilee
Celebrations of 40th PMA Long Course held at Abbottabad
from May 5-7, 2017. I led a three-man organizing committee
tasked to arrange a gathering to celebrate the day we joined
the Pakistan Army. It started off as an exploratory venture, but
as time wore on, it took a life of its own, drawing in some three
hundred people across four generations and three continents,
from ages 87 years to six months old! Our ambitions for the
event were propelled by the excitement that it generated
amongst old friends, who not only wished to reconnect at the
place of their first meeting but wanted their memories to be
passed on to the following generations. As the magnitude of
the task grew, so did the logistics of it. We were staring into the

202 | M o o n g l a d e
impossibility of delivering to expectations, when the military‘s
espirit de corps intervened. From the General Headquarters to
PMA Kakul to institutions and units in Abbottabad, all
embraced our desires as their own, lending enthusiasm and
cooperation that was unprecedented and spontaneous. One
motivation guided them all – ―we do not forget our veterans
and we will do all we can to make the bonds that keep us
together even stronger‖. One event, one celebration, one day
that epitomizes the collective responsibility of the military
family to its enduring ethos of togetherness!

The veterans of 40th PMA Long Course (May 7, 1967 - April

19, 1969) arrived at PMA, Kakul at 0930 hours on May 6, 2017
to commemorate the completion of exactly 50 years since they
first entered these very same gates! A galaxy of 276 guests –
the founding Term Commander, Platoon Commanders,
Gentlemen Cadets, wives, children and grandchildren – were
warmly welcomed behind the Main Mess, on the steps to the
Rafiullah Drill Square (RDS). Out of 167 course mates
(including Naval Cadets) that formed the original batch, 126
are alive, of whom 65 attended this memorable occasion along
with their families. There was an air of excitement as friends
reconnected under a magical, nostalgic spell – embracing and
hugging and patting each other amidst shouts of joy! The
backdrop of the Main Mess served as the ideal platform to
preserve the memory of this ‗Grand Gathering‘ in group
photographs with and without the families.

As the trumpets rang out, the PMA Drill Staff swung into
action. The course mates were mustered for the traditional
‗Parade‘, organized into their original five platoons led by their
respective SUOs (in our time 1st Pakistan Battalion comprised
of five companies: Khalid, Tariq, Qasim, Salah-Ud-Din and
Aurangzeb). They were then put through their paces, under the
watchful eyes of the Adjutant as he sat astride his magnificent
charger, and paraded around the RDS with long-forgotten
skills. The Drill Subedar Major censured Tariq Platoon (the
Champion in 1969) for their ―poor drill‖, to the amusement of
the spectators and the other platoons! The families looked on
from the enclosures, with rapt attention and curiosity, taking

M o o n g l a d e | 203
pictures and making videos. These retired and ageing officers,
once again perked up and became young cadets, as they
proudly tried to recapture the glorious moments from the past.

The PMA Band played the same old tunes, as these

―officers-turned-cadets‖ slow-marched up the stairs to the
lilting strains of ―Al Wida‖ in a re-enactment of their passing-
out, to disappear once again into the Main Mess. Their families
followed them and joined them for some well-earned ‗Hi-Tea‘
and refreshments. The guests mingled around as they
exchanged more memories, accomplishments and pleasantries
with each other, introducing families and creating new
friendships.

The guests were then divided into two groups and they
embarked upon a ‗Tour of PMA‘. The voyage through PMA, in
fact, proved exciting as well as wistful. It was meant to be a
drive-through the now massive PMA complex, but everybody
demanded stops along the way to dismount from the buses to
experience first-hand their respective Company Lines, the
rooms they lived in, the many venues of their ‗ragging‘, the
Mile Track, Horse and Saddle Club, Visitors‘ Centre, Museum
etc. They cherished the places of their own time and admired
the new structures. The officers and their families were
especially mesmerized to find the original data of their time in
the PMA Museum in the form of Long Roll, Rising Crescent,
individual, group and company photos, the Honour Boards,
memorabilia from their past, etc. In fact, the Museum took
them back to their own time within a compact capsule.

The guests then arrived for the ‗Formal Commemoration

Lunch‘ at the imposing 3rd Pakistan Battalion Mess and
relished the full-service meal, experiencing once again the
formality and dignity of dining at the PMA, with its unique
cooking aroma and the enthralling ambiance of their Alma
Mater. During the lunch, a pictorial slide show of their time,
with the music of their own Passing Out Parade playing in the
background, was projected on screens around the hall. Then,
as the Course Senior, I rose up and led a silent prayer to
honour the Shuhada and to remember the departed colleagues

204 | M o o n g l a d e
of the Course. In my address to the assembled guests, I
reminisced with the help of photographs and montages,
sharing many interesting incidents from our training. I
emphasized the value of this event, as a continuation of
military traditions designed to foster ever greater cohesion.

On behalf of the Course, I thanked Maj Gen Abdullah

Dogar, the Commandant PMA, and his team for extending
extraordinary support to enable such an unprecedented
celebration of our Golden Jubilee. Special thanks were
extended to Lt Col Taimur, CO 3rd Pakistan Battalion; Maj
Usman Sarwar, the Coordinating Officer; and Maj Sarfraz
Ahmed, Exo Museum for their hard work and cooperation. A
standing ovation was given to two course mates, Brig Ijaz
Rasool (retd) and Col Tahir Mumtaz (retd), for their tireless
efforts in organizing this memorable event on such an
unprecedented scale. ‗Souvenirs‘ were then presented by an
eminent selection of Platoon Commanders, senior members
and the Company SUOs to the many local institutions and
units – the Baloch, Frontier Force and AMC Regimental
Centres, the ASPT & MW, the MES, FWO, Topo Survey Unit,
and Station Headquarters – who contributed most
enthusiastically in hosting the event.

Finally, the founding Term Commander of 40th PMA Brig

Azam Mirza (retd), was invited to join me in unveiling the
‗Course Gift‘ to PMA Kakul: a magnificent trophy representing
the ―Battle Standards of the Warriors of Islam‖, a truly
inspirational memento that we hope will serve as a lasting
beacon for the gentlemen cadets.

The majestic ceremony came to an end around 1600 hours,

with the Band playing familiar tunes as the Course departed
the PMA grounds carrying with them unforgettable memories
– from the past and the present.

This was not the end of the celebrations, however.

The guests reassembled at the Baloch Regimental Centre for

‗Dinner and Musical Evening‘, which turned into a night of

M o o n g l a d e | 205
songs, dances, gaiety and fun. There was an air of informality
and vitality as the families arrived at the beautifully decorated
lawns overlooking the lights of Abbottabad. This was a
moment for photographs and much laughter, before everyone
settled down to hear Brig Ijaz Rasool (retd) describe the year-
long journey towards holding the Golden Jubilee. There were
interesting facts and data, from ISSB selections to a full count
of what and where each of our colleagues became, to details on
attendance and financial stock-taking. The wives of our
departed colleagues and of the organisers were then invited to
cut the ‗Jubilee Cake‘, crafted in the colours of PMA and the
five companies of 1st Pak Battalion.

A lavish sit-down dinner followed, served to the

accompaniment of live music. Well satiated, the families joined
together as they were regaled by the melodious voice of
‗Bulbul-e-Hazara‘. The course mates became young again as
they swayed to the rhythm of the songs, interspersed with the
recounting of some light moments from the past by Brig Javed
Aziz (retd). The night wore on and not a single person was
spared from taking the floor and moving to the tunes! There
was much more fun in stock, but a wild storm and rain put a
halt to the festivities around midnight. One surprise awaited
the families as they exited the venue, however: individually
packed and labelled ‗Gift Bags‘ filled with especially prepared
mementoes for each and every one – cadets, wives, children
and grandchildren – all 276 of them!

The next day, before the Course departed for their homes,
there was one last activity still waiting for them – a casual
outing to the Piffers‘ Golf Club for ‗Brunch and Picnic‘, with
games played out by all ages! The venue was exquisitely set up
by the hosts amidst lush green lawns and towering maple trees
in the backdrop of the Abbottabad hills. Stalls were set up with
snacks and balloon-shooting and other games of skill for the
children. The wives contested keenly at putting a golf ball; the
girls ran the spoon and potato race; the boys, the wheelbarrow
race. There were other events like thread-and-needle, sack,
and three-legged races amidst a constant clamour to claim
more than 40 prizes on offer!

206 | M o o n g l a d e
 The men re-paired to one corner where a general body
meeting of the ‗Fortieth Forte Association‘ finalized course
matters and lauded the contributions of past office bearers,
Brig Tariq Mohar (retd) and Mr. Osama Tariq to keep the
fraternity together. Regret was expressed at the negative
attitude of Bangladesh government in not allowing some of our
desirous Bengali course mates from participating. Finally, it
was unanimously agreed to begin the process of compiling a
Memory Book for publication by April 19, 2019 to mark the
Golden Jubilee of the Passing Out. With everyone tired from
the activities all around, they now turned their attention to the
sumptuous brunch, accompanied by more friendly banter and
some much needed relaxing in the sun. As the hour of
departure came nearer, there was a last round of photographs,
and vows all around to carry the flame of this 50 years bond of
comradeship forward, into the next generation.

Finally, with heavy hearts and tearful eyes and leaden feet,
this great family of friends took leave of each other, locking
themselves in one last tight embrace, not wanting to let go.
Then, they sauntered off into the distance, looking back and
exchanging furtive glances, not knowing what lay in the future
for them. Rumi had said: ―This moment is all that there is. But,
do not grieve. The moments you lose come around as
memories that are forever.‖ The family of 40th PMA Long
Course had lived their moments joyously, transforming them
into priceless vignettes, reflected in everlasting memories.
‗Fortieth Forte Forever‘!

On my return from the event, I wrote a letter of thanks on

behalf of the Course to Gen Qamar Javed Bajwa, Chief of Army
Staff. I said to the Chief: ―We were blessed to have had these
dedicated and committed institutions, as well as individuals
with an abiding sense of personal devotion, working tirelessly
to honour us and our memories. It was most humbling for us
to receive such respect and attention, many years after we last
wore our uniforms. Each and every one of us came away with
renewed pride in our glorious heritage of camaraderie and
espirit de corps, and in this great brotherhood and profession

M o o n g l a d e | 207
that will never cease to be a part of us. We wish to express our
deepest appreciation and gratitude to all under your command
for living up to the oldest and grandest of all military
traditions: that we are one family – never forgotten, never
separated, never retired.‖

We are sure that those who follow us will continue to

receive the Chief‘s encouragement and the military‘s
institutional patronage. Fostering cohesion and developing a
spirit of comradeship lies at the foundation of our profession,
sustaining and nurturing its growth. Our prayers for the glory,
strength, and well-being of the Pakistan Army!

208 | M o o n g l a d e
 To My Soldier Brother
In this hour when I make my bed to sleep, I think of you my
dear brother, that you must be in some rocky area along the
mountains, where you will be sleeping another night. I
remember so well from our childhood days how much had you
always been conscious of your comfortable sleep but you were
in no way reluctant to leave these pampered habits when you
decided to wear this graceful uniform. You knew it since the
day one that this uniform will bring hardships and challenges
for you, yet you remained adamant.
I miss you, I miss your smile, the smile of your
contentment, the smile of a valiant soldier, smile of a son of
this sacred soil who has taken an oath to serve this nation at
the best irrespective of any loss to himself. When our mother
misses you, she goes to your room to see your picture in the
uniform with tears in her eyes and yet she says, ―I am the
mother of a soldier and these are the tears of gratitude.‖ Our
father keeps following the news from Operation Radd-ul-
Fasaad and later shares his analysis with his friends in the
evening with pride that his son is also a part of war against
terrorism for the country.
My dear brother, I hope you read this letter soon, we miss
you but we feel contended when we pray for you and for all
those who are with you there. In fact, this connection of
prayers is the most beautiful thing that we have with you now.
I am so sure that other soldiers‘ sisters, mothers, fathers,
brothers, wives and children miss them the same way as we
miss you. May you and all of them be successful. Ameen! May
we make a peaceful and prosperous Pakistan soon. Ameen!
Your proud sister
Asma Ishaq

M o o n g l a d e | 209
 The Pakistani Soldier
Today
Shaukat Qadir

‗The only thing harder than getting a new idea into the
military mind, is to get an old one out.‘
(B. H. Liddell Hart)

In my generation of soldiers, I was fortunate to spend a

little more time in combat zones than most others, but
obviously, less than some others – not by design, merely by
default. However, when I total the entire period of my combat
experience, I cannot go beyond three and a half years out of
thirty odd.

Today, Pakistan Army‘s young officers of ten years‘ service

have more combat experience than I.

When I was on the faculty of the Command and Staff

College, Quetta, in 1997, I wrote a paper on ‗Why Peacetime
Soldiers Cannot Produce Wartime Leaders‘ and sent it to
the Military Training Directorate at GHQ. It was highly
appreciated but, none of my recommendations were heeded.

It seems that fortune has led us to an unending war, merely

for me to have a glimpse of the Pakistani soldier and officer
groomed by years of combat.

Now, it has been more than 15 years since Pakistan entered

the affray of GWOT, the Global War On Terror, and, over time,
the number of troops in constant combat have risen to about
300,000.

210 | M o o n g l a d e
 The bulk of the troops in combat is, of necessity, infantry.
But, despite the fact that almost two thirds of combat troops in
the Pakistan Army is infantry, these are insufficient for both
roles – defence of the international border and anti-terrorist
operations.

Consequently, all the ―arms‖ in the army have been rotating

to take turns in combat in what is called ―Infantry Role‖ i.e.,
for a specified period, troops and officers from Armoured
Corps, Artillery, Engineers, Signals, all go into battle as if they
were infantry.

All infantry units and, to a slightly lesser degree, other units

seem to be in combat zone endlessly. They are moved out from
anti-guerrilla operations to be deployed at, either the LoC, the
Working Boundary between AJK and IOK or the international
border.

A stint on border defence is considered peacetime station. It

is during this period that the units get to train troops.

I was not aware of the fact that there is an international

index on Troops to Officers‘ Casualty Ratio (TOCR), among
other related indices, until it was pointed out to me one day in
a discussion abroad, when I was a Lt Col. The context was that
the Pakistani TOCR was very high and, therefore, the Pakistani
officer was, by inference, naturally foolhardy or was trained to
be so.

Even then, I protested this inference.

But now, I have studied the subject. Yes, the

Pakistani TOCR is high; it has always been. Until we
entered GWOT, it was as high as 1:12 i.e., to every 12 soldiers
we lost an officer. Now it has risen further; it is 1:9.

I am very proud of this because our young officer leads from

the front; dies but not buckles!

M o o n g l a d e | 211
 Wherever the officers lead, the troops invariably follow.
Where the officer merely commands, troops may still go but
their performance is likely to be less enthusiastic. And where
troops are always merely commanded, their enthusiasm will
wane more and more.

During the Second World War, the American General,

George S. Patton, slapped a soldier who had been admitted to
hospital due to ―battle fatigue‖. Patton, being obviously
unfamiliar with the reality of this disease, accused the soldier
of malingering.

The hospital staff complained and it came to the notice of

Patton‘s superiors and Patton had to tender a public apology or
lose his command. He apologized.

The point here is that, though not unanimous in their

opinion, some psychiatrists are of the view that soldiers who
see their superiors of high ranks expose themselves to combat,
are less likely to suffer from battle fatigue and related subjects.

If this contention is true, then Patton may have been the

victim of a verdict which was harsher than it could have been;
merely because Patton was among the Generals who also led.

But, when I learnt of this index, I also learnt of other related

ones i.e., Battle Fatigue Ratio (BFR), Ratio of Suicide in
Combat (RSC), etc.

Until this last experience, our wars had been too brief to
result in such consequences. This experience has made up for
lost centuries. And yet, we have an amazingly low ratio of those
suffering from battle fatigue or related mental disorders; under
0.5 percent.

Admittedly, due to lack of awareness among troops, there

may be some suffering from problems who have not reported
it. But still, it is amazingly low.

There has not been a single instance of suicide in the

212 | M o o n g l a d e
combat zone. Some soldiers have committed suicide after
returning home but only very few. The majority among them
could be suffering from either post-combat disorders or post-
retirement domestic pressure. Even so, the percentage is closer
to nil than to a number.

About two decades ago, a rather unfriendly neighbour was

in a similar situation fighting numerous domestic
insurgencies. Though considerably better off than we have
been, their infantry units were rotating at the rate of 3:2:3 i.e.,
three years in combat zone, two years in a peace station and
again three years in combat.

I recall the concerns being expressed by their general

staff about, not only the increasing number of suicides among
soldiers but also of ―combat murders‖. Murders of NCOs, JCOs
and officers by soldiers during combat.

There is not a single recorded instance of murder in combat

in the last 15 years in the Pakistan Army.

Yes, indeed, this is a battle-hardened army with veteran

soldiers of all ranks.

Many of our today‘s officers may have never heard of

a ―Mess-Night‖ or ―Dinner Night‖. They may have no appetite
for attire and refined niceties and, may use their hands to feed
themselves, instead of a fork or knife, they may even be
incapable of small talk. But give them a weapon, give them a
section to command and you can sleep well; confident that
your country is well guarded.

I am the patient of an insatiable and incurable disease:

curiosity. So, despite the fact that I shed my uniform a little
under two decades ago, I have had occasion to see this army
grow in stature and ability.

In 2009, when forces were assembling for the assault on

South Waziristan, I spoke to few of the soldiers. My chief
concern was that they were going to assault an area where

M o o n g l a d e | 213
their brethren resided. But they were grimly determined and
sure of their being in the ‗right‘. Even the Pashtun among them
knew they were fighting an ―enemy‖.

I recall my first visit to the casualty ward of CMH to meet

the injured soldiers and the officers‘ ward in CMH to visit the
wounded officers. Some had lost limbs, others maimed and
bed-ridden for life. But almost all were looking ahead at what
they could do despite their injuries and handicap. These were
men with wounded bodies but hearts and a will of steel that
was infinite!

Those who seemed depressed, were being cajoled by other

wounded. They could laugh at their own sufferings, share
concerns of their fellows, and grieve their dead and yet, dream
of their future. I was amazed and I still weep unashamedly as I
narrate this heartwarming and chilling incident.

In 2014 and ‗2015 again I met soldiers and this time they
could smile through their determination. These were genuine
veterans.

I am proud of having been an ordinary soldier, not even

a ―has-been‖ but, a never-was in an army that has bred such
proud soldiers in all ranks.

No wonder General Raheel Sharif (retd) could warn our

enemies not to take this army of veterans lightly. Gen Qamar
Javed Bajwa could well do the same and say, ―Don‘t take this
army of veterans lightly. These are the finest of fighting
soldiers‖.

While it would remain unsaid but implicit in the statement

above is that it is led at each level, not commanded.

214 | M o o n g l a d e
 Pakistan: A Symbol of
Resilience
Lt Col Sohail Akbar Bajwa

Pakistan stands today as the epicentre of global geopolitics.

While most of the propaganda portrays Pakistan as the hub of
terrorism, inching towards an economic default and labeled as
a failed state, the actual Pakistan remains shrouded and
mystified somewhere else. This perhaps is a product of
imprecise knowledge of various academics about this land, its
history, culture and above all its people. Such is a delirium of
these clairvoyants of doom and gloom for Pakistan that they
are even presenting maps of crippled Pakistan.

Given the environments, circumstances and challenges

faced by Pakistan, any other country of the world might have
collapsed. Moreover, all developed societies and nations have
been evolved through similar glitches and severities thus
Pakistan is no exception to this historical process.

The idea of Pakistan can be encapsulated in the two

statements of Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah. First with
regards to his resolve during the creation of Pakistan i.e.
―Better a moth-eaten Pakistan than no Pakistan at all,‖ and
second on his vision and recipe for future of Pakistan when he
said, "I have no doubt that with Unity, Faith and Discipline we
will compare with any nation of the world… We must sink
individualism and petty jealousies and make up our minds to
serve the people with honesty and faithfulness.‖

No sooner than Pakistan got independence, predictions of

its break-up started to pop up all over. From Jawaharlal Nehru

M o o n g l a d e | 215
to Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel to Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, it
seemed as if the good neighbour‘s mindset was not ready to
accept an independent neighbour. It will be justified to say that
Pakistan was born badly bruised, hurt and in fact penniless. It
is an intricate story shrouded by betrayals and intrigues. It was
not given the right shares in terms of capital and property. It is
ironical that a lawyer by profession, Sir Cyril Radcliffe who was
the Chief of Boundary Commission mandated to map the
partition, came for the first time to India on a five weeks trip
on July 10, 1947 to draw lines on a dead map deciding the fate
of 390 million living beings. Presenting his partition map on
August 9, 1947, he then left for Britain never to return again.
As a result of his irresponsible and illogical mapping, 14.2
million people had to shuffle across the borders and in process
at least half-a-million people died as a result of migratory riots.
Total 7.2 million refugees poured into Pakistan, which was
already marred with void economy and infrastructure. The
genesis of Kashmir and water issues between Pakistan and
India dates back to almost the same period.

In 1948, merely a year old lacking of trained men and

machinery, there was a war between Pakistan and India over
Kashmir. Such was a state of affairs that even the head of
Pakistan Army was a British officer. By 1959, Pakistan,
surviving on agricultural economy, was striving to get water
controlled by India. Pakistan fought back diplomatically to
broker the Indus Water Treaty in 1960 and survived yet again.
Five years later in 1965, Pakistan was imposed upon with
another major war over Kashmir, again. Despite being a
member of SEATO and CENTO, Pakistan fought with no
support from the Treaty friends, with a foe much larger in size
and far vicious in design. By 1971 Pakistan was fighting its
third major war on dual fronts, internally against Mukti Bahini
in East Pakistan (aided covertly by India) and Indian Armed
Forces on external front, and that too in two theatres of war,
thousand miles apart. By January 1972, Pakistan had been
reduced to the half. Although Bangladesh came into being,
nonetheless, Pakistan continued to live, survive and thrive
with much to the chagrin of its obvious and existential foes.

216 | M o o n g l a d e
 Meanwhile, internal threats continued to surface in
Balochistan intermittently from 1948 to 1975 and lastly
erupted in 2005, which is unabated till date.

Intimidation by its neighbour also persisted; India tested its

nuclear weapon in 1974. This marked the dawn of nuclear race
in the subcontinent. Attainment of nuclear technology to
achieve strategic balance thus became inevitable for
Pakistan. On May 28, 1998 it joined the powerful club of
nuclear states – Pakistan now could no longer be cowed down
by a nuclear threat from its neighbourhood. The day became a
celebrated ―Yaum-e-Takbeer‖.

In 1979, the Soviet Army invaded Afghanistan and in no

time, the Soviet presence became an imminent threat to
Pakistan also, with its ultimate goal of reaching the warm
waters of Arabian Sea. Without going into political discussion
as to the justification of Pakistan‘s entry into the Afghan War,
simple fact is that Pakistan bore the brunt of this war. By 1986,
the number of Afghan refugees reached around the highest 6.8
million burdening an already poor nation. Pakistan fought as a
frontline state and the Soviets left Afghanistan in 1989 for the
world to wonder!

In 1984 it was subjected to Siachen invasion by India.

Pakistan Army went up without necessary equipment at an
altitude of over 20,000 feet to fight for its honour and survival
and that it did successfully. Some of Pakistan‘s military
operations in Siachen post-1984 years are legendary and epic.
In 1986 it was again threatened by India; this time in the
plains of Punjab. President Gen Zia ul Haq went to witness a
cricket match in India diffusing the imminent war threat with
brilliant diplomacy later known to be referred to as Cricket
Diplomacy. Pakistan stood tall yet again.

In the year 1999, Pakistan fought the Kargil War and in

December 2001, it was threatened by India yet again and the
military stand-off between the two nuclear states continued for
over 13 months, which left India panting in despair and
withdrawing its forces back to its barracks in 2003.

M o o n g l a d e | 217
 Before coming to its wounds in the Global War on
Terrorism, let‘s just count a few of the natural disasters
Pakistan braved all along its history. Some of the worst hits
include floods of 1950 in the Punjab, earthquake of 1974 in
Hunza, drought of 2000 in Balochistan, earthquake of October
2005 in Kashmir and parts of KPK, cyclone Yemyin of 2007 in
Sindh and Balochistan and recent floods of 2010 and 2011
affecting almost the entire country. These natural disasters
cost Pakistan dearly in terms of human lives, infrastructure
and economy.

After 9/11, Pakistan joined the Global War on Terrorism

that led to military operations in FATA. In this war, Pakistan
has been wounded badly, and deeply cut. A cursory glance on
the terrorist attacks at our strategic assets like the PAF bases in
Kamra and Samungli, Naval Base Mehran, GHQ, POF Wah,
international airports of Karachi, Peshawar and Quetta would
surely reveal the vicious connections involved much beyond
the war in FATA. But the worst has been the loss of human
lives in mosques and schools. The nation has sacrificed over
50,000 including sons, daughters, mothers and fathers.
Bloodbath in the Rawalpindi Parade Lane mosque and
Peshawar APS have been the darkest hours in the War on
Terror (WOT). Still when the West blames Pakistan for dual
play, one is compelled to term it either sheer naivety or
absolute hypocrisy. In the WOT, under challenging
circumstances and difficult terrain, Pakistan Army‘s
achievements are praise worthy.

One needs to understand a simple fact that no country or

nation is free of issues. Nations evolve to better forms with the
carvings of sweat and blood, building up institutions and
reforms and all that doesn't happen overnight. China, Japan,
Iran, Turkey, Russia and much of Europe are centuries old
cultures and have matured after experiencing various
movements, revolutions, wars and internal upheavals. The
USA for example got independence in 1776 and is almost 240
years old. Pakistan in this whole kaleidoscope is merely 67
years old; fairly young and in the process of carving into a
nation.

218 | M o o n g l a d e
 Let‘s take a stock of claims against Pakistan and see if that‘s
happening only in Pakistan or otherwise. Issues of women
rights and gender discrimination for example are such oft
associated terms with Pakistan. It is interesting to note that
women were given the right to vote (suffrage) in Europe
mainly after the First World War (1918), centuries later than
the proudly trumpeted Treaty of Magna Carta, Reformation
and the Renaissance. Even the US gave women the right to
vote in 1920 (144 years after its independence). On the
contrary, Pakistan gave the women right to vote in the very
first year of its birth. Miss Fatima Jinnah contested for
Pakistan‘s Presidential elections in 1965 while Benazir Bhutto
was the first Muslim woman elected as Prime Minister of the
country; this is beside the fact that the women representation
in the Pakistani parliament is one of the highest in the world.

As concerns discrimination, it was racial discrimination in

the USA, which deferred the African Americans the right to
vote till 1965 (179 years after the independence) under the
Voting Rights Act of US Constitution. Voting rights for the
Australian aboriginals were granted in 1962 almost 60 years
after their independence. Apartheid (racial discrimination)
prevailed in South Africa for almost 46 years from 1948 to
1994 when Nelson Mandela came into power and apartheid
was abolished. And here is Pakistan where we all live in same
blocks and towns – the Muslims, Hindus, Christians and
others without any discrimination. Our history is not haunted
by the shadows of Ku Klux Klaan as was the case for the
African Americans in the USA and extermination camps for
the Jews and gypsies in Germany. We don‘t call Basmach is to
respectable minorities as were the Muslim minority called in
Russia in early 20th century. We have a much brighter history
of mutual acceptance than most of the contemporary
developed societies.

Sectarian conflict is no doubt a sore issue in Pakistan but

such conflicts have been a part of societies, which are
quintessentially the religious ones. The whole Europe fought
30 years religio-sectarian war from 1618 to 1648. The UK‘s war
in Northern Ireland, which continued for almost 29 years

M o o n g l a d e | 219
ending in 1998, was in-effect a Catholic Vs Protestant sectarian
war.

When it comes to lawlessness, it will be surprising to know

that lynching, which is defined as "an act of violence inflicted
by a mob upon the body of another person which results in the
death of the person", continued to be widely practised in the
USA till 1920 (144 years after its independence). Nearly 3,500
African Americans and 1,300 Whites were lynched in the
United States between the period of 1882 and 1968, mostly
from 1882 to 1920. One of the modes of such mob killings was
burning the victims alive. Frank Huzor in his book ―Blood
Demons‖ identifies the Hindutva pervading in India and the
mob-based atrocities on Non-Hindus it carried out throughout
its history. As of today, in India 220 districts in 20 states
spread over 92000 sq km are still under the control of
separatists namely the Naxalites, and the area as a whole
called Red Corridor where the Indian Federal Law is virtually
absent.

Now let us see the amazing achievement of Pakistan‘s

resilient nation. It has grown from almost zero balance in 1947
to 25th largest economy of the world. Pakistan has the 8th
largest armed forces of the world, which are renowned for their
professionalism. Proudly, Pakistan has the world‘s best
Command and Control System for the nuclear assets. We have
ruled the game of squash for decades and have also been the
world champions of cricket, hockey, snooker and boxing.
Pakistan produces 50 percent of world‘s footballs. We have
produced some of the finest brains like Arfa Karim Randhawa
and Babar Iqbal, the youngest microsoft professionals,
scientists like Dr Samar Mubarakmand, Dr Abdul Qadeer
Khan and Dr Abdus Salam. It has a large philanthropist pool of
people committed to the welfare of the poor – Edhi Ambulance
Service is the largest privately-owned service in the world. In
fact, the nation is one of the highest charity disbursing nations
of the world. Pakistan is proud to have sound family traditions
based on respect for head of the family and care for the young
ones that have not been devoured by capitalism. We don‘t
encourage making mockery and cartoons of people‘s spiritual

220 | M o o n g l a d e
and religious icons and prophets in the name of freedom of
speech and expression. We are proud to retain such values and
codes of ethics.

Having all said and done, it‘s not all goodies here; Pakistan
has to rise even higher. We have grey areas that we must
identify and apply correction. We need to develop a more
tolerant society and be more united. We need to ensure
efficient tax collection with introduction of effective tax
reforms enveloping the much richer masses of the country. We
need to apply land reforms and help poor farmers. We need to
introduce a uniform, much simpler and effective education
policy all across the country. We have to think beyond personal
and local constituencies for safeguarding larger national
interests. We have to achieve self-sufficiency in the field of
energy for which we have to build dams and energy houses. We
have to unite ourselves beyond factions and barratries.

―Pakistan is not a failed state and that Pakistan is not

Afghanistan, Chechnya or Somalia. Pakistan is not about to
explode. The Islamic militants are not going to take power
tomorrow; the nuclear weapons are not about to be trafficked
to al Qaeda; the army is not about to send the Afghan Taliban
to invade India; a civil war is unlikely. The resilience of
Pakistan and the nation‘s continuing collective refusal to do
what the west would like it to together pose questions with
implications far beyond simple security concerns.‖
(Anatol Lieven)

M o o n g l a d e | 221
 Fighting for Peace in
Pakistan
Dr. Amineh Hoti

There is a famous Urdu saying ―Har Firaon k liye aik Musa

hota hai‖ meaning thereby ‗for every problem, there is a
solution‘. This is also mentioned by Allah in the Quran. It is for
us, ―the people of thought‖ or the ―Ahl-e-Aql‖, as God
repeatedly calls us, to use our intellect (aql) to work out those
solutions (and I use the word ―work‖ intentionally because it
comes with, and not without, effort and labour).

The attack on the students of Army Public School in

Peshawar was particularly heartbreaking for me (as it has been
for all Pakistanis) because I grew up not very far from this very
school. I recall my happy childhood in Peshawar when my
parents would take me for long walks in a stroller in the
beautiful cantonment with its flower-filled gardens. It saddens
me to know that the same Peshawar now has become a
battleground for the future of Pakistan. Who could be so cruel
as to kill the children and take the lives of others, and then
their own? I wept once again for my nation. I asked myself,
what could we do to prevent such extreme violence and hatred
in the future?

When nations are seen to be weak and divided, everyone

suffers especially the vulnerable children. The Prophet
(PBUH), who loved children, forbade men to do any harm to
children and women in war. Yet children are killed through
violence in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Syria, Palestine, Gambia,
and in so many other parts of today‘s turbulent world. This
practice is a heavy burden on the conscience of humanity and

222 | M o o n g l a d e
the guilt will always haunt the perpetrators.

A unanimous voice would decree; let children live – both

literally and metaphorically by allowing them to grow in their
minds, ideas, and creativity. To explore the heights of
knowledge without hunger, pain or loss of family and life!

The challenges for Pakistan are no exception. They can be

tackled through effective planning, insight, and must be solved
with foresight in the light of current world events. Thus, I
would suggest few ideas as a solution to the problem.

Ilm, Adab aur Insaniat Courses: Fighting This War

with the Tools of Knowledge

The Center for Dialogue and Action (CD&A), which I have

the privilege of heading at the Forman Christian College
University (FCCU) in Lahore, aims to benefit institutions in
the armed forces and civil services by creating opportunities
for learning and growth. There is a general lack of
understanding and ambiguity in Pakistan in relation to the
subject of Pakistan‘s diversity, its religions, culture, ethnic
history, and gender. If we can open the minds of the young
generation to ideas of acceptance and compassion, we can
successfully challenge the hatred that engendered this violence
in Peshawar.

The foundation of any debate on defining our national

identity and ways forward must look to a class on the vision of
its founding fathers: the Quaid-i-Azam who strove for human
rights and justice, Sir Syed who encouraged open-mindedness
and knowledge, and Allama Muhammad Iqbal who inspired
passion for learning and hard work through knowledge of our
own rich history. In this context, we must examine the
challenges of today‘s Pakistan and the opportunities ahead.

Another class focuses on what Islam is about and the early

inclusive and tolerant Islamic attitudes towards the others. In
yet another session, a study of Andalusia in Spain and Sicily in
Italy are essential to see how people can coexist. I have been to

M o o n g l a d e | 223
both places over the last few months with the research project
―Journey into Europe — Islam, Immigration and Empire‖
accompanying my father, Professor Akbar S. Ahmed, and his
team. The knowledge we gained and the people we met have
been an eye-opener and a healer. We need to be aware about a
past where we were creative, productive, and tolerant. From
these cultures, everyone all over the world benefited, and
continues to benefit, until today. The first man who flew was
the Andalusian Ibn al Firnas, the astrolabe who gave direction
from which the compass is inspired and which is a gift to the
world from Sicily and so on and so forth.

Diversity is one of Pakistan‘s key resources. The study of

diversity can inspire our youth to become better citizens who
respect cultural and religious differences. The study of
diversity explores differences and commonalities, and provides
tools to equip us to play a positive role in transforming
negative attitudes, perceptions, and behaviours. Despite being
unique individuals i.e. belonging to different communities, at
the end of the day we are all connected through our shared
values.

Learning Lessons from the Glory of Andalusia and the

Gore of Srebrenica

I spent this summer doing fieldwork with ‗Journey into

Europe‘ (JIE) team in the South of Spain at Andalusia – the
jewel in the crown of civilization. It made me realize how
important it is to strive for peace, creativity, and open
mindedness to overcome a closed and static mindset. At its
height, Andalusia was a period when Muslims, Christians and
Jews under Islamic rule, lived together producing the
knowledge from which the world benefits today (clocks,
watches, carpets, shampoo, coffee, algebra, medicine, flight,
cleanliness, and so forth). However, when Muslims and Jews
were forced to leave Spain in 1492, by the decree of Isabella
and Ferdinand, the dark age of the inquisition began when
terror and violence reigned for Muslims and other minorities –
people‘s property and lives were no longer sacred. Muslims
were given two harsh choices – convert or leave Spain – those

224 | M o o n g l a d e
who left had to make a choice harder than death. They had to
leave behind all their property and their children!

In European Bosnia, Srebrenica, which I visited with the

JIE team in summer 2014, Muslim men, women and children
were brutally killed 20 years ago. The Bosnian war saw over
200,000 people massacred and more than 70,000 women
raped. The stories of the survivors were truly heartbreaking.
Khadijah whom I interviewed in the mass graveyard of
Srebrenica, lost 50 male family members.

Recently, when I visited National University of Science and

Technology (NUST) in Islamabad to teach a class to PhD
students on peace building, I was also asked to give a talk to a
hall full of army men and women in uniform – the majority of
whom was from the Pakistan Army and a small number from
nine other countries. My message to these brave soldiers was
that they have tremendous strength and resources but the
value of strength is when we use it to maintain peace. The war
worth fighting was the one to keep the peace and harmony so
that our children could grow up in a safe and calm country.

Andalusia teaches us that when we live in harmony together

through the exploration of knowledge, there is space for
growth of that civilization itself as well as for the generations
to come like ripples in water, and the effects are far and wide.
European enlightenment comes out of Andalusia through the
spread of knowledge. Today‘s Europe and the West, it has been
argued by many scholars, has progressed on the basis of
Andalusian civilization – you‘ll be surprised at how many
things you use today or encounter thinking these are Western
marvels, actually originated in Andalusia from Muslim-
Christian-Jewish coexistence!

Srebrenica teaches us to be strong, never to be weak,

undivided, or unaware – to play the game of survival, but
always keep out of troubled waters. Negotiation and wit are far
better than rushing into problematic areas like quicksand.
Revenge never gets us anywhere. Srebrenica teaches us to walk
the rope of life in a balanced way with our neighbours – again

M o o n g l a d e | 225
negotiating, building relations, building trust, and above all
building strength of one‘s country, which must always be
above one‘s personal interests.

Let‟s Work to Build our Nation, Not Just our Own

House

The experiences from this journey, my interviews with

hundreds of Pakistanis abroad, the backdrop of the current
media constantly chipping away at the image of Pakistan, had
made me realize how valuable Pakistan is to us Pakistanis –
both at home and abroad. At home, Pakistan gives us a place to
live how we choose, and abroad it gives us a place of belonging,
to which we hope to one day return. Pakistan is home; it is the
source of our identity. It is worth the effort to save, to keep,
and to work for with all our might and intellect to make
Pakistan a good home for us all.

We often think that our house is our home – we keep it tidy,

buy beautiful things for it, decorate it, and sometimes dump
our rubbish on the streets outside it. However, our focus needs
to change. Our country is our home and we must endeavour to
beautify its landscape, preserve its natural beauties and not
misuse them (the waters that flow from the mountains in
Islamabad are polluted with sewage and rubbish as they come
down from sector to sector – this can be improved by stopping
this, starting with the sectors occupied by the forces); we must
not misuse our national funds (what belongs to the state is not
our personal fund – every penny misused is taking a bite out of
the mouth of a starving person – so many parents with their
children have committed suicide because of hunger in
Pakistan); and we must work hard (every day, every hour of
our lives counts).

Most importantly, we must be positive. Saying Pakistan will

survive and making it happen is possible – it is a self-fulfilling
prophecy – if we want something to happen, it will. If we want
it to exist and be prosperous, it will but we must put in the
effort, we must be united (Pathans, Punjabis, Sindhis,
Balochis, and many others in Pakistan are part of the rich

226 | M o o n g l a d e
landscape – they are our strength not weakness but only wish
to be heard and wish to be given due acknowledgement, voice
and leadership roles) and we must be loyal to Pakistan (above
our loyalty to our tribes, political affiliations and ourselves).
Our little personal gains are not worth the cost of chipping at
our mother nation. Without the nation, there is no house, no
dignity, no ownership, no home, and no identity.

The difficulties and harshness of being a musafir (traveller)

on my field trip to Europe, interviewing hundreds of people,
and listening to the mosaic of voices that talked to me of pain
and loss, made me constantly think of the value of my home,
Pakistan. I hear so and so leader has so many houses abroad
and so much money in this and that Swiss bank. The reality is
that no amount of houses abroad or money in banks can
replace your dignity of belonging to a country that is your own.
God blessed Pakistanis with a miracle against all odds – He
gave us one of the biggest nations on earth (Pakistan is the
second largest Muslim nation on planet earth – in size we are
bigger than UK, Denmark, etc). So, let us cherish this land,
value it, love it, and work hard to build it up again. I am
reminded of Rudyard Kipling‘s wise poem, ―If‖ which my
father read to me again and again in my childhood and its
strong message of the will to survive against all odds, some
lines of which I want to share with you:

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
Or being hated, don‘t give way to hating,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you‘ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds‘ worth of distance run,

M o o n g l a d e | 227
 Yours is the Earth and everything that‘s in it,
And—which is more—you‘ll be a Man, my son!

“Positive Attitude” is Essential: Counting our

Blessings

The first main step to improve our country is challenging

the negative propaganda against Pakistan. Our own media
must work with us, not against us, to put out ideas that this
Pakistan is indeed a great country worth fighting for. We must
work together to improve it in education, in ideas, and in
progress. If we spit out negativity all the time, we will do
nothing to improve because we will feel it is a lost case.
Instead, if we say we are fed up of all the negative headlines on
Pakistan and say instead, let me change this, it will change –
the positive attitude will uplift people and make them work
hard to build the nation.

Adopting a positive attitude, therefore, is absolutely

essential. Let us create a ‗self-fulfilling prophecy‘, as it is called
in the social science of Sociology. If I tell a particular child or
the children of my nation that they can do it, they will have
hope and they will do everything to get to that point of success.
If I tell them constantly that you are worthless and you cannot
make it, they will subsequently give up hope and will not make
it.

There is nothing that can prevent the success of our nation,

but ourselves. I am confident that we can make this nation
great as envisioned by its founding fathers. Let us look, for a
moment, at all the stunning things we have to give us hope and
reasons to survive and thrive.

A Very Rich History. Our country is the cradle of

civilization. Though many people outside Pakistan and
inside may not fully appreciate or realize this – the oldest
civilization in the world is not Ancient Egypt (3000 BC) and
Ancient Greece as is taught in many schools around the
world. It is our own Mehrgarh (7000 BC) located in present
day Balochistan. This is a stunning fact, which gives us, as a

228 | M o o n g l a d e
 collective people, deep roots – we are not a new civilization.
Taxila is another example of having one of the most
important education centres in the world (people from
other parts of the world came to study here just as today
they strive to go to Oxford and Cambridge in the UK).
Buddhism, Hinduism, Sikhism, and other religions were
born here in present day Pakistan. This land has seen many
strong, tolerant, and creative leaders, for example, the great
Mughals, the Sufi saints, and so forth. This is the rich
historical and cultural inheritance of the people of Pakistan.

The People of Pakistan. With their hospitality and

resilience in the face of all troubles, the people of Pakistan
are survivors. ―Some of the most brilliant people I have
met,‖ a senior European academic I met recently told me,
―are from Pakistan.‖

Geographic Bliss. A stunningly beautiful vast land from

the north to the south with access to water and the most
breathtaking and highest mountains in the world, Ma sha
Allah! In size, we are bigger than most European countries.

Fabulous Weather. Sunny most of the time – the word

‗sad‘ is from Seasonally Affected Disorder – indeed while I
was in the UK, people moaned about the weather all the
time. They would die to have this weather which can make
us happy medically.

Faith. Lastly, faith is very important and the key anchor –

faith in the idea of hope and survival, faith in our nation,
and faith in God. I‘ve seen reflections of these in members
of the army, civil services, educational experts and in
ordinary people for whom the services strive, through the
course of their lives, to make a better nation for all.

“You” are a Role Model Peace Builder: Embodying the

Messages of Great Leaders

The message for us in today‘s Pakistan from the Holy

Prophet of Islam (PBUH) is to build our own great internal

M o o n g l a d e | 229
strength – faith is an important component in driving us
forward and the message of God is the key to survival – to fight
for peace, not war, but to defend ourselves and our national
interests with great wit, and the tools of knowledge and
wisdom. It is worth reminding ourselves that the Prophet
(PBUH) came to Arab society in a very difficult time to
challenge Jahilya (violent ignorance) when people killed
children and disrespected humanity. He came as a Messenger
from God, the Cherisher of Humanity, to remind people of the
ideals of justice, humanity and compassion. That is why the
title of the leader of the Muslim Army, the Prophet (PBUH),
was ―Rahmat al lil Alameen.‖ The beauty of his character that
made his role a success was precisely his great strength of
standing firmly for what is right and protecting
his Ummah firmly within the balance of justice and
compassion, while being a leader, a father, a husband, and a
General. It is for this reason that we are told repeatedly by God
in the Quran that the best role model for us is the Prophet of
Islam. However, we can only really ―know‖ the Prophet
(PBUH) if we study his life by reading about him.

The Quaid-i-Azam – our special Baba-e-Qaum, is another

outstanding role model for us. In the December 2014 issue of
Hilal magazine, the message of the Quaid was loud and clear –
of progress and humanity, of justice and compassion written
by Professor Akbar S. Ahmed. In his character, in his manners,
in his struggle for Pakistan and its survival, the Quaid is a
brilliant star. Being himself an outstanding professional lawyer
from a minority community, he fought for the rights of all
people, especially the most vulnerable – women and those who
were from the minority communities. He fought with his life
and last breath to give us this nation with the help of God. It is
now up to us to make it, to build it, to value it and to protect it.

This land has had many other outstanding leaders – some

of whose lives have been forgotten, and remain unexplored
today but remain a treasure for the students and teachers of
courses such as ‗ilm, adab aur insaniat‘ to slowly uncover one
by one and explore as we are beginning to do so. These
examples give us, and our children, hope. They show us how to

230 | M o o n g l a d e
survive as these great leaders did in the face of all odds and
adversity and to make the world we live in a better more
peaceful place.

Conclusion

After travelling for months on the research project, across

Europe and earlier the Muslim world (on ―Journey into Islam‖
– a book by Prof Akbar S. Ahmed, which was the first part of
the four-part project, ―Journey into Europe‖) and hearing the
stories of immigrants losing their homes, their countries in
wars, the plane I arrive in touches the soil of Pakistan and I am
grateful to be back ‗home‘. I say a prayer, a ‗sajdah to Rabbee‘
for blessing us with this home – a place better than thousand
palaces. I come back enthusiastic and wanting to contribute to
building this nation into a beautiful strong and united country.
I pray for all those who have worked towards peace in Pakistan
and in the wider regions, for the sacrifices they have made, to
make a stronger peaceful world community.

Our progress will start with the building blocks and tools of
knowledge and strategy. We will celebrate and be proud of
Pakistan just as our neighbour, India, celebrates themselves
(you may remember the widespread ads, ―Made in India‖,
―Fabulous India,‖ etc). We will build on our own knowledge
through courses like ‗Ilm, Adab aur Insaniat,‘ by exploring our
shared rich heritage (South Asia, Islamic, Andalusian and
world debates on Dialogue of Civilizations), which will give us
the confidence to propel us forward. We will begin to read up
on our own history and polish up our knowledge on the Quran,
on the Prophet of Islam, on the Caliphs, on the Quaid-i-Azam
and so forth. This will help us understand the balance of
justice, rights and respect for others and ourselves and will
help us understand the balance of cause and effect. Our
minorities must feel a part of, not apart from Pakistan – they
must not feel as being on the periphery but included in the
centre. Finally, we must acknowledge, value and protect what
we have as our strengths.

Drawing inspiration from my father‘s great relative, Sir

M o o n g l a d e | 231
Syed Ahmed Khan; my maternal grandfather the Wali of Swat,
Miangul Jahanzeb, who built universities and education
centres in Aligarh and Swat where the creators of Pakistan on
the one hand and on the other, girls like Malala Yusufzai
comes out of, a system of education which is local (not Oxford
or Cambridge); and my husband, Arsallah Khan‘s grandfather,
Sir Akbar Khan of Hoti, who is said to have built and collected
the largest library in South Asia, I am personally convinced
that knowledge, and especially ―Peace Building Education‖, is
the key to strengthening and creating a progressive and
successful Pakistan. That is why both my husband and I left
Cambridge where I had a permanent job as Director of the first
centre on Peace Studies and chose to come to Pakistan, like so
many other Pakistanis who came ―home‖, to help build our
valuable homeland and contribute whatever little we have here
with a great deal of passion and enthusiasm.

Finally, all of us should remember the message of the

Prophet (PBUH) that scholarship is more important than
anything else – it is the bright light of hope and of progress.
Indeed, there is a famous saying of the Prophet: ―The ink of the
scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr.‖ I urge
you to think hard about this – if God in the Quran gave the
highest darja – or status to the martyr, why is then the ink of
the scholar more sacred than the blood of the martyr? It is
because with scholarship comes understanding and with
deeper understanding comes respect and with that, steps to
peace are possible. Again, I go back to the example of the best
General in any army of all times, the Prophet of Islam, who
valued the tools of knowledge to fight all forms
of jahilya (violent ignorance).

I want to leave you with the thought that ―nothing is

impossible‖ for us: We ―can‖ soar to the highest of heights. We
only need the will and mental strength to fly high. When I look
at the young generations, I think that with their enthusiasm,
great heights are certainly possible. For all those who serve
Pakistan in their varied ways, remember Allama Iqbal‘s words:

―Tu Shaheen hai, basera kar paharun ki chatanun main‖!

232 | M o o n g l a d e
 Epilogue
Tahir Mehmood

It was a long cold dark winter night; and the clocks had
already struck half-past midnight. The continuous rainfall for
hours and the low clouds surrounding the windowpanes and
doors had made the night more sombre and dense. The lone
man sitting in the café‘s corner was deeply engrossed in
thoughts that had made his fourth cup of coffee get further
cold. The café in the tourist resort mountainous village was
located a bit far away from the population. The café owner
himself seemed part of the antiquity that had endured over the
decades. He was well familiar with this lone man sitting in the
corner for over thirty years; though the familiarity could only
break the walls of brief wellbeing exchanges. He would appear
once in a while each year for a month-long stay in the village,
mostly in winters. Known for his quiet manners and lone long
walks over the mountain tops, the man was taken as a peaceful
recluse. A black mystery hollow always surrounded him.
Somehow it became known that he had once served in the
military and had fought a war, too. That night he sat for long,
engulfed in some inner conflict, he did not talk even once. The
inner conflicts are usually not visible but are often equally
dreadful as open wars. His eyes were dull but demeanour rock-
solid.

He was passing through the agony of bygone years when

he was young, and full of life!

In those days he was serving in a military unit deployed in

the East Wing of his country. He often missed his hometown
located in the West Wing, that was different in many ways.
However, like soldiers are famous for adapting to the new ways

M o o n g l a d e | 233
‗in the line of duty‘, he was soon absorbed by the life of the
town. There he met her, and overpowered by the destiny, soon
they were married. The girl was young and naïve but as
beautiful as a wild little white rose. This was a union
spontaneous but an act of sheer love. A bit unusual but no one
could deny the oneness of the land, blood and souls. They had
made it a routine to go for long night errands. In that land of
ravines, lakes and mist, they would often lose the path, but
then magical power of love would lead them back home. They
would talk and understand not entirely dependent on words.

In youthful days, heart is connected to the soul in a

manner that ‗love‘ is personified through each small act of
lovers.

A year of happiness had just passed when the war broke out
in the East Wing. Brothers started fighting brothers, the blood
was spilled without distinction and it further thickened the
clouds of death and misery. The love was unknowingly
overtaken by hate, and soon the enemy also jumped in. That
night he talked to her for very long in a manner that he had
never done before. He talked of love, life and perpetuity of
conflict.

And, then he started explaining the ever-overpowering

love for the Motherland!

He uttered the words in a low but firm voice, ―I have put

you in my heart, closed it, yet set you free. We are different but
love always does not breed in similarity. Love just happens to
someone. It is never chained in bonds, never two shall be one,
but the oneness of souls endures the differences. Sustaining
distinct uniqueness gives strength to life of individuals and
societies. Oneness is a divine attribute and humans are ought
to be diverse yet love takes them to this divine bliss!‖ And
deeply drowned in mystique of love and life he mumbled, ―the
bond with the motherland is nothing but pure divine love.‖

Overwhelmed by the power of the words he had uttered

234 | M o o n g l a d e
from deep caves of inner-self, he opened the half-shut eyes.
Then appeared the agony of life and reality on his face. The
shadows of looming war further thickened the talk. ―We learn
to know, and then live under the burdens of knowing forever,‖
again he was murmuring, ―All living beings feed on all other
living ‗things‘. This one-eyed spectacle makes the notions of
peace, justice and freedom relative in nature. Man is defined,
lost and found by the conflict. Perpetuity is to life, not to peace
as contradictions shape and give birth to new conflicts. Peace
is a dream that is never under full grasp. There are skies to fly
and feet to crawl on the ground. The passionate men of
freedom, courage and imagination always delimit the industry
of life. They do not look down to find the pitfalls, but act to
unknot the limits of the ‗will‘. The words without power of
action are mere dreams. An idea is hope, half-action is a curse-
in-waiting, and persistence is victory.‖

His words were magical, and the dawn of a new day had
already set in on the horizon.

He opened his eyes to the reality and saw the shadows of

conflict looming over vast fields of his motherland. It was time
for the men of courage and passion to act and protect the godly
motherland. And then he uttered the last words with a finality
of tone she was not familiar with, ―soldiers like us have been
groomed to get martyred for the motherland. They are trained
hard to stand for the motherland, protect it, fight for it till last.
These times are hard, our freedom and identity is the cost, and
I cannot shy away from the call! These are the times of valiant
fights, struggle and strife, suffering and endurance, and
martyrdom! This is not throwing away life, which is a unique
divine gift, but standing tall to the toughest calls of duty and
commitment. Life and death are both a matter of choice. The
tall ones always stand high above the choice. On some
beautiful morning of tomorrow, pluck a red rose and you will
find me, and only then you would know the price of the blood
of a martyr!‖ The girl could hardly utter a word but her grasp
was enough to tell that she shared his cause. The cause of a
soldier ‗in the line of duty‘, the ever unchained love for the
motherland!

M o o n g l a d e | 235
 No tear could roll down, but met a silent death in the
depths of heart that embodied the virtue of love.

In the dark winter nights, the soldiers embark on the

missions that are rarely known to the men living in peaceful
dwellings. The deep gorges, fast flowing ravines, snow-clad
mountain tops, thick forests and stormy oceans; all witness the
resolve of man versus man, and man versus Nature. It is ironic
but true that peace is sought through wars. ‗Peace and War‘ is
like a hide-and-seek game between life and death and soldiers
play this game. Tyranny could prevail forever if there are no
soldiers of peace and freedom. The soldiers fight and endure
wars! The soldiers are proud young sons of their old dying
mothers. They are the band of brothers who go to war – the
valley of death – while singing songs and chanting slogans.
Their young bodies and spirits are imbued with love, life and
hope.

Their old Generals are often cold and quiet, as they know
the pain and strife that life endures once young ones die ‗in
the line of duty‘.

Since then many years had passed. The soldiers of war,

peace and freedom had returned to their homes. The brave
ones chose death, the resilient ones fought and survived. After
the war, he returned to his native town in the West Wing, and
could not go back to the home he had built with her. He tried
to locate her, but where love once prevailed, the dust of hatred
had taken over. Those who were distinct but one, had been
separated. The cause of oneness which they had chosen
willingly, had been lost. Often in war, the results do not
entirely depend on the bravery of the soldiers. Sometimes the
battles are won but the war is lost. Nature‘s clairvoyance cried:
―the conflict is inevitable. The ready-ones to live in peace,
ambitious to wage war, simpleton to be trapped, and
charlatans to suffer defeat.‖

Lost in the fog of war and bitter memories of separation, he

managed once to go back to the East Wing to find her. There

236 | M o o n g l a d e
he found a demolished home that was once a symbol of life and
joy. Nothing was recognisable. The love that united them once,
had become a lost cause. He made muted enquiries about the
girl that used to live there, but none could tell him about her.
He then returned to the West Wing with empty hands, and
heart filled with pain. Soon, he left the military and started
ploughing the new crops in the virgin fields of the Motherland.

He had found the shelter and cause in the love of

Motherland.

Years passed following the unstoppable flow of time and

destiny. In the memory of that cold winter night of December,
he often chose to visit that mountainous village and spend the
nights of love, remorse and pain all alone by himself. He often
chose to go for long lonely walks in the clouds. The life had
turned into a wasteland without companionship. The nights
were painful but days had a glimmer of hope as he could see
new crops growing. He had a hope for good days once people‘s
stomach would be filled with the healthy harvest growing in
the fields. All was passing like a colourless autumn month that
is waiting for blissful days of spring. And, one day, all seemed
upside-down once he received a letter from the embassy of the
former East Wing of his motherland. It was a letter from her
daughter who was born after he had left the house. She had
written about the death of her mother after that tragic war. She
grew with one of her aunts who on her insistence had
contacted the embassy of the West Wing to locate him.

Next week she was coming to meet him!

And, tonight he was sitting in the far corner of that

mountain café all alone engrossed in deep thoughts. The two
weeks stay of his daughter had passed like withering petals of a
white rose that rarely survive the next morning of their bloom.
She resembled her mother in many ways. She made numerous
enquiries about their past and about her mother. They spared
most nights for long walks in the memory of the departed one.

M o o n g l a d e | 237
 She had to go back to the former East Wing due to her
studies. He had to stay in his home in the West Wing for the
new crops he was hoping to reap one day. It was difficult to
reach the decision of parting ways once again, but hope for
seeing new crops in the Motherland had defined his new life.
The man finally arose from his seat, gave a smiling nod to the
café owner, and walked into the mist of life.

Nature breeds life, conflict evolves, and love endures it.

238 | M o o n g l a d e