The dilapidated road sign read, “Welcome to the land of five S’s, sand, sandstorms, sand-dunes, snakes and scorpions.” That was at the international border from Munabao (India) en route to Khokrapar in Pakistan and beyond towards Hyderabad (Sindh). The year: 1971. The Indo-Pak war had just begun. We — a standby territorial army battalion of about 1000 railwaymen-turned-armymen called up from our civilian assignments in Bombay, Rajasthan, Gujarat, etc — were commissioned to activate and operate the 40 km of Pakistan Railways in the Thar desert. Our task acquired great urgency as our advancing troops were left with meagre rations of food, water and ammunition. As the troops advanced, the supply line became longer, and the stocks dwindled by the hour. With no road in the desert for plying of army trucks, the problem became critical and running of supply trains imperative.The gap between the points, where the Indian and Pakistani railway lines ended on both sides, had first to be linked. The enemy while withdrawing had damaged the rail bridges and tracks. Bridging the gap across the border was accomplished in a day and the first train carrying water in rail tankers and some other supplies steamed into Khokrapar the next day. But Pakistan’s air force lost no time in bombing it soon after its arrival. The civilian railway staff who had helped run this train were evacuated and the leading contingents of the TA took over. But the supplies had to be carried 30 km beyond, where the new battlelines had been drawn with both sides having surrounded each other with their respective minefields.The last contingent of our unit was still coming in a special military train which was approaching Barmer, and was scheduled to arrive by 8 pm. Apparently, Pakistan’s intelligence had got a whiff of this, and its airplanes bombed and strafed the Barmer station area that whole night, with the aim of destroying the unit which was to activate the Pakistani railway in the desert. After spending a couple of hours in a trench in the bitter cold (when bombing refused to abate), we went round to see if the men were safe. They were. Major Nayar and I spent the rest of the night in the station master office assessing the damage.The bombers left just before dawn, with all of us still wondering about the reason for a whole night of intense bombing. A survey of the scene cleared the mystery. It transpired that the enemy’s target was the military special, as per the scheduled arrival. What the Pakistanis did not know was that the train, by a subsequent order (half by anticipation and half by sixth sense), had been halted 20 km away. The train was called up soon after the air raids receded.It was that morning that we arrived at the above-mentioned signboard. It was dark when we reached Khokrapar railway station. The last act of the day was a late night conference in total darkness, when plans for the next day and allocation of duties were decided upon: to survey and repair the next 30 km of track and bridges right up to the frontline, where our infantry troops had dug in and were surviving on minimal supplies.As dawn broke, we left on a railway motorised trolley to inspect and repair the Pakistani tracks and bridges. We worked at a furious pace the whole day, restoring the line to a minimum level of fitness. As darkness enveloped the desert, we returned to Khokrapar, now our advance base. As we were fortifying ourselves with dinner, Pakistani planes struck again. They withdrew after setting an ammunition dump on fire. Guessing they would not return till dawn, we quickly assembled the first supply train of about 20 wagons loaded with food, water and ammunition.It was past midnight when the train moved into the darkness of the desert slowly and stealthily. In time, we stopped near a station. After a few moments of jubilation, unloading began and was almost complete when dawn brought with it Pakistani airplanes. In the bombing the locomotive driver, Durga Shanker, suffered burn injuries from a napalm bomb. To avoid further losses, the train was ordered back to Khokrapar, the brave driver offering to work the locomotive controls with his elbow (since his hands had been burnt). The train in reverse motion had covered about 12 km, when four rail tankers derailed between two high sand-dunes, where visibility was nil. (Pushing a long train is hazardous and is prohibited in peace time.)Returning to our base, we set about clearing the obstruction caused by the derailed tankers. Anticipating air attacks, we worked at a furious pace till 4 pm when four Pakistani star fighters returning after a bombing mission spotted us. Luckily they had exhausted their bombs on the mission. However, one of the planes circled back and dived to strafe us. As he dived, I could see the Pakistani pilot adjust his guns, before he opened fire spraying the area with thousands of bullets. The desert has no place to take cover, so we lay motionless (a hundred of us) waiting for the worst, but the bullets missed us by a few inches. What saved us was a single anti-aircraft gun we had mounted on the train as a last-minute innovation. We knew the planes would come back for further attacks duly charged and fortified. So we finished that day’s work quickly a little before dusk and returned to Khokrapar. On arrival we found Khokrapar ablaze. Luckily all our men were safe and the morale of these railwaymen-turned-soldiers was high.It may be mentioned that in appreciation our unit was decorated with one Vir Chakra, two Vashist Seva Medals and three mentions-in-despatches. So it is that after 35 years, we feel a tremendous nostalgia for the railway line where a “friendship train” has just started running.Lt Col M.L. Khanna was awarded the President’s Vashist Seva Medal for his contributions during the 1971 war
