Preface

The Kargil War of 1999 remains etched in the collective memory of our nation as a defining moment of courage, sacrifice, and unwavering resolve. Among the countless stories of bravery and service that emerged from that time, some are quietly powerful—woven not with dramatic headlines but with personal reflections, real emotion, and lived experience. This narrative by Col (Dr) S.S. Malik is one such story.

In this piece, Col Malik shares an intimate and vivid account of his posting to Kashmir shortly after the Kargil conflict. What begins as a seemingly routine military transfer swiftly transforms into a poignant, gripping encounter with the harsh realities of a region in turmoil. From the surreal experience of a civil flight filled with uniformed soldiers to the abrupt welcome of an AK-47 and bulletproof gear, the author leads us through the transition from normalcy to a theatre of conflict.

What makes this piece compelling is not only its candid detail but the emotional undertone that accompanies each moment—the nostalgia of watching Kashmir’s ethereal beauty from above, the unease of sudden blasts, and the silent determination to fulfill duty in the face of constant danger. Through his words, we are reminded of the human element behind every soldier’s uniform—the sacrifices, the mental shifts, and the sense of service that transcends personal comfort.

This blog post is more than a recollection; it is a tribute to the men and women who serve with quiet heroism and a reminder that behind every mission lies a deeply personal journey.

 

LANDING AT SRINAGAR AIRPORT 10 SEP 1999 

By Col (Dr)S S Malik

 

“Ram Ram Sahib”,  Sub Maj Rattan Singh in combat dress saluted with full josh and a welcome smile, stirring up the soldier in me. 

“Ram Ram SM Sahib”,, saluting back, I responded. 

“Sahib, welcome to Kashmir, Yeh AK 47, Butt No. 5, aapke liye ”, presenting the gun to me. Mechanically, I just grabbed it. 

It was around 1430 h, on 10 Sep 1999, coming from New Delhi by the very First  Military Special Indian Airlines flight as a goodwill gesture started in the wake of the Kargil war 1999. I was on a permanent posting to a unit in Kashmir as Second-in-Command from Army Headquarters.  Due to the prevailing situation, I had to leave behind my family, including my 82-year-old paralysed mother in Delhi.

In the morning, at Palam airport, there was quite a commotion, as all officers and other ranks in combat dress had eagerly waited for the Kashmir flight. We were told there was a likely delay of about 40 minutes due to some technical snag. However, after half an hour of anxiety, we were all finally seated inside.

 It was an impressive sight to see a civil flight full with uniformed army personnel. What a contrast to heavy-duty air force cargo planes like IL 76!. The reciprocal anxiety was also felt in beautiful air hostesses moving around with spring in their feet. Many were not used to seeing this ambience and hospitality, especially our jawans. 

After the mandatory flight protocols, traditional welcome, and emergency handling procedures, with a delay of 40 minutes, we finally took off.  Smilingly moving up and down the aisle, the young girls were still adjusting seats, luggage, etc. The staff was putting best hospitality show. Soon, they were serving water, juice, and sweets.

One one-hour flight was a memorable experience as the bird’s eye view of this mountainous region was heavenly. The view of milky peaks protruding up in the thick white cotton carpet of clouds in the afternoon sun was scenic. The vastness of Pir Panjal range and its raw beauty of green patches and snow-clad heights was divine and overwhelming, where God and nature become inseparable. We were served with snacks followed by lunch Packs. Most of us thought this show should go on and on. Hanging in mid-air on top of the world dreaming, I said to myself, “Well, army life is second to none!” 

Soon, the pilot announced, “We are crossing the famous Banihal pass peaks”. .As we flew ahead of the ridgeline, there was the first view of intermontane, sprawling, picturesque green valley spread below.  There were orchards of apples, plums and other fruits all over this 130 x 40 km flat land called Kashmir valley.  A thick growth of pine trees with isolated specks of floating clouds adds to the amazing beauty. 

We could see the great River Jhelum with lakes, snaking in this heaven on earth, to which the 17th Century Mughal King had once said,

“…Agar  firdous baroe zamin ast,

Hamin ast, hamin  ast, hamin  ast…”

(If there is heaven on earth, it is here, it is here…)

Many thoughts quickly crossed my mind, the foremost,  why was Pakistan always laying claims to this part of Kashmir, and why was India defending it with the blood of its soldiers for more than 50 years after independence?.

 Two soldiers injured in IED blast in Kashmir

“ Please tighten your seat belts, we are shortly going to land on Srinagar airport”, came the silky voice of the air hostess. I straightened in the seat as if shaken out of slumber.  Soon, our plane was in its descending mode. Easing our anxieties, we made a safe landing and from the window, we could just admire the greenery, the faraway peaks, and the remote silence outside, unlike the busy hustle and bustle of Palam airport.  As the aircraft came to a halt, we were asked to alight the plane. Unwillingly, most of us got up, grinned around, carried our cabin bags and dismounted. It was pleasantly cold outside. As I collected my main baggage and came out, I found the whole airport full of Army personnel and their vehicles waiting for this flight.

When Sub Maj Rattan Singh thrusted AK 47 (Kalashnikov Gun) towards me and said, “Sir your weapon Butt No 5.” the heavenly flight, lunch, and pretty air hostesses were soon forgotten,  Shocked a bit, little realising he was solemnizing my marriage to this weapon for next 2y.   

He showed and confirmed a magazine full of 7.62mm rounds and the Safety catch ‘S’ position and its folded butt. Soon, he asked me to put on the Bullet Proof Jacket (BPJ) for the chest and a Bullet Proof Patka (BPP) as head gear, he had brought for me. Perplexed, I politely obeyed and eased into the armour. All became very familiar to me: my IMA training, service with Armd Corps, Arty units, my Bhutan posting, and I said to muttered to myself, “Buddy, you have been launched into real war”.

I was offered a hot cup of tea and some biscuits. Looking around, I realised there were 8 – 10 unit jawans who had come to receive me.

 I enquired, “Sahib itne sare jawan kyon aaye hain.? (Why so many soldiers?)

“Sahib QRT hai”

“What  QRT?” really blank of the term, I asked.  

“Sir Quick Reaction Team, comprising of Two vehs one with LMG, moving in front and one behind your Gypsy’. 

“OK”, I soon regained from the memory loss.

Amidst customary fauji talk, as I sipped the tea, there was a distinct sound of a blast far away. Curiously, I asked, “Sahib yeh awaaz kaisee?”(What is that loud sound ?)

“Sir IED hoga”. due to militancy

“What is IED?”. I blurted

“Improvised Explosive Device “, yahan aise blast hotey rehtey hain. (Such blasts are common here)

“Sir fidayeen attacks common hain,. CO sahib ne alert rehne ko kaha hai.”(Suicide attacks are frequent. Commanding officer has cautioned to be alert)

Hmmm..mm. Perplexed I was, over the type of war we were fighting. 

“OK”, I realised for the first time, there was  an enemy around without borders.

 

Tattoo Ground: 139 Acres of defence land in Kashmir.

Soon, my royal motorcade started. The vehicle ahead was leading, a jawan was whistling and shouting to keep the road clear, though there was not much of civil traffic and roads looked deserted.   There were few narrow road passes through the civil houses nearby. It did disturb me a bit, how exposed we were on the road. There were sand bag posts cum barricades at places.  Kashmiri people, there women were moving around going about daily chores. Kids were playing at places.

My mind was quickly wandering over the day’s events at Delhi airport, the flight, and I blankly kept looking at the road ahead.  It must have been about half an hour after leaving the airport that the QRT vehicle in front stopped. Sub Rattan Singh jumped down as his vehicle halted.

 

Tattoo Ground: Before going for cordon and search operations. 2000.

Soon Sub Maj Rattan Singh came running 

“Sir, IED blast went off, the sound we heard at the airport, kept in wodden tri – wheel cart on the road side, targeting this BSF vehicle. Luckily no death reported and but some injuries to jawans. Their QRT is there and deployed. We can move”. 

Shocked, my hands gripping the AK 47 and eyes searching, trying to find how an enemy in civil clothes looks like. There were a few civilians hiding behind trees, doors.  As my gypsy crossed the damaged Veh, it was partly smashed with smoke coming out and jawans hurriedly moving around. It was a BSF supply vehicle with stores loaded. I  saw some injured Jawans being evacuated. The tyres had almost 6” long iron nails stuck in the rubber.  Later, I found these IEDs can be adapted/improvised to any requirement, using nails, nut bolts, and ball bearings as missile sharpnels with an explosive base..

I shrugged a moment, thanking God that the flight had come on Right time, it may could have been my vehicles.

 Sub Maj Rattan Singh took permission to mount and move. Trying to be extra alert, I soon identified myself with my team on the road.

 

Service with a smile. During snowfall at Tattoo ground. 2000

 

After about 10 minutes, we reached the heavily barricaded Bemina army camp gate and after a laid down drill of recognition, our three vehicles were taken in. A sigh of relief  as we drove for about 5 minutes before stopping near the Battalion Officers Mess. 

As I dismounted, there was (Late) Brig D V Singh, CO unit, waiting for me.

“Hello, Malik.” Welcome to TATTOO GROUND!!!

Shaking hands, he said, “We just heard the flash message about IED hit a security forces vehicle, so I was worried.”

“Yes, it was a BSF vehicle, I saw on the way”.

After a few days, Brig DV Singh left on posting.  The next incumbent came after a few months; he had serious medical issues and did not stay back much, so I was left with my team to fight out the battle of Tattoo Ground, next to Batmaloo Bus stand. I went and brought my wheelchair-bound mother, and she stayed with me throughout my 2-year tenure. There were at least eight to ten close shaves with life,  with IEDs, RPGs (Rifle Propelled Grenades) and Fidayeen attacks during my stay.

 

Tattoo Ground…

Recently, there was a news that Tattoo Ground in Batamaloo here to be developed for tourism and other related activities, according to a Jammu and Kashmir’s Raj Bhawan press release.

Unveiling the Enchantment: Kashmir .        Jai Hind