Beacons of hope

When the road is reopened the soldiers on these outposts get a fresh stock of fresh fruits and vegetables, besides news from the base. This process of `reopening the road’ is not as simple as cutting a ribbon across it. Project Beacon considers the stretch from the 72-km mark to the 108-km mark across the Zojila Pass as the biggest challenge because of the extreme temperatures and the wind velocity. When the snow clearing operations begin, they trigger avalanches, which at times have destroyed machines, killed personnel and denuded forests. At places which have recorded avalanches earlier one can be careful, but every year there are new sites and one has to take extra precautions so that men and machines are put at least risk.

The strategic importance of the road can be guessed from the way the Pakistan army, and its so-called `mujahideen’, laid siege to it last year. Drass and Batalik can be reached through this road. Leh and the entire Zanskar valley would be cut off if this road were to fall into enemy hands.

The long and winding road keeps going for 400-odd km and from Project Beacon it becomes Project Himank. Yet it would be unfair to pass on without going back into the history of the road itself. Besides, how can one move on without saluting the spirit of those who laid down their lives so that this lifeline could carry on and be what it is?

Years ago it was just a dirt track maintained by the PWD. Only jeeps could traverse it. It was taken over by the Beacon in ’76 and then it was transformed into a road, which could allow heavy trucks and other vehicles to ply on it. These heavy vehicles provided the basics for the soldiers and the others living in the small villages along the road.

One of the better known legends of this road is connected to a bend in the road known as the Captain Morh. The story goes that one young Captain Wadhera, who was one of the pioneers in the extension of the road, was very deeply involved in his work. He truly believed that he and his team were doing a great job. While the gruelling road construction and extension carried on, rumours were afloat that that particular part of the road would be named after some senior officer sitting in Delhi. The captain heard of this and felt that it was grossly unfair that the boys did all the dirty work and the big guns far away would be commemorated.

One fine day, he sat astride his motorbike and drove off the edge of the road, straight down for hundreds of feet before he landed on the rocky side of the mountain. It was a sure death and it ensured that that bend in the road was forever connected with him, the brave captain who gave up his life for it. Every driver worth his salt pauses for a few seconds there and then moves on. We too pause here.