KARGIL
REMINISCENCE OF VICTORY AND TEN YEARS OF LOST LIVES

On July, 3, 1999, the Indian Army began its final assault on the Tiger Hills. After liberating various sectors from the clutches of our neighbour, this was a decisive phase in the war. And as the whole nation waited with baited breath, the Indian flag firmly fluttered over Tiger Hills on the morning of July 4, 1999 and all of India celebrated. Operation Vijay was successful.
It was a long drawn out battle - and for two long months the tenacious combat was a fight to the finish. Here, we look back at the journey that was... on the rugged and cold mountains of Kargil, we look back at the war where soldiers from two nuclear powers came head on and never looked back...
We salute those soldiers who faced the enemy’s bullets without giving up; we salute those, who fought till the very end and had only one thing in mind – it’s their country that comes first and so it shall be. Nothing is, and nothing will ever be mightier than this ultimate purpose which they fulfilled with honour. We salute our Kargil heroes.

It was a war that continued for two whole months on the cold, rugged and mountainous regions of the Indo-Pak border, between two nuclear powers - the Kargil war was as if a test of power and patience. Tenacity took on a new name when the soldiers from both sides fought for their country. India launched Operation Vijay against the infiltrating Pakistani soldiers in Kargil and remained locked in artillery clashes with Pakistan on the Line of Control. It was colossal and a battle that the entire world community woke up to with concern.
On July 3, 1999, the Indian Army began its final assault on the Tiger Hills. After liberating various sectors from the clutches of our neighbour, this was a decisive phase in the war. And as the whole nation waited with baited breath, the Indian flag firmly fluttered over Tiger Hills on the morning of July 4, 1999 and all of India celebrated. Operation Vijay was successful. This was 10 years ago - but the sounds of the battlefield still send jitters down memory lane.

Indian defence minister George Fernandes takes aim through a heavy machine gun, which was confiscated along with other weapons from the posts held by Islamic infiltrators, as Indian army officers look on during Fernandes' visit to Kargil on 22 July, 1999. Fernandes said that there could be no talks between India and Pakistan regarding the Line of control until Islamic infiltrators withdrew from Indian territory and that all shelling from across the border came to a halt.

But as it happens – common and consistent perhaps in such anecdotes of valour and vigour, that patriotism leaves behind a gory path of sacrifice - where in the line of duty, each soldier finds a way to fight their enemy till the end, no matter what it takes, no matter how.

However, tears have a way of placing themselves in the eyes of those who accept the death of a soldier with pride and honour. For a soldier is also someone’s father, husband, brother, son and tied in many other roles. It is not easy – the loss, the acceptance. But for he, who is a martyr, it is this way and no other.
Here, Jalja, wife of late Lt. Colonel Ramakrishnan Vishwanathan of the Indian army, wipes her tears before receiving from the Indian President the 'Vir Chakra', an Indian National Gallantry Award for rare valour, on behalf of her husband, on 11 April, 2000 at the Presidential Palace in New Delhi. Vishwanathan died in action during the conflict against infiltrators in Kargil last year in Indian-held Kashmir.

The rain, the sun, the wounds, the wires – do not matter. The eyes are never tired, the feet know no rest. On the battlefield, it is just the enemy, the artillery, the strategy and the alertness. Life is but a trifle in the midst of a purpose greater than self – for the country, duty and honour never bow down.
Here, Sumitra Devi (L), grandmother of the late Captain Vijyant Thapar who died in the Kargil conflict in 1999, bows as she receives the "Vir Chakra", Indian National Gallantry Award for rare valour from Indian President K R Narayanan on 11 April, 2000.

Battles and wars leave behind a trail of death and destruction. It also leaves behind a quietude that’s inexplicable and empty. For the family of a soldier, death is a noble sacrifice. And nothing else matters, perhaps...
Janaki Devi, widow of Gorkha Rifles Lance Naik, Ram Chander Bhatt waits for the bravery award which was awarded for her late husband, who was killed during the Kargil war in Jammu and Kashmir on 1 May, 1999. The award was given by Indian president K R Narayanan at a Defence Investiture Ceremony at the Presidential palace in New Delhi on 3 November, 2000.

An Indian schoolgirl, dressed in military uniform, holds a picture of an Indian soldier killed in Kargil, during a rally in memory of the "martyrs" of the Kashmir conflict on 12 August, 1999. Young schoolchildren paid their respects to Indian soldiers who died in Kashmir, and pledged to support and join the armed forces.

Indian soldiers pose near flaming torches at a war memorial near the village of Dras, some 180 kms east of Srinagar, late on 26 July, 2006, as part of celebrations for the seventh anniversary of the end of the Kargil War between India and Pakistan. Indians have illuminated the hills that witnessed some of the fiercest gun battles in summer 1999 in the operation later named as ''Operation Vijay'' (Victory).

Time and tide waits for none – they say. And so, years go by... but the light of memory is ever glowing. It never fails, it never betrays. With bowed heads and candles galore, the shadow lives on. The gallant bravery in the face of unprecedented circumstances on a battlefield comes to the mind in quietude. What remains is a pride, that’s forever.
Here, relatives and friends of Kargil martyrs hold candles to mark the third anniversary of the victory at India Gate in New Delhi, on 25 July, 2002. The last major military conflict between India and Pakistan was in 1999 on the heights of the Kargil mountains where more than 1,000 combatants on both sides died.

It was between May and July 1999, that India and Pakistan were torn by the Kargil War. A war that was to further shake the very basis of the Indo-Pak relationship. During the winter season, due to extreme cold in the mountainous areas of Kashmir, it was a common practice for both Indian and Pakistani armies to abandon some forward posts on their respective sides of the LoC. But in 1999, the Pakistan army began to re-occupy those posts and covertly set up bases on the key points of the Indian-controlled region. And India launched Operation Vijay against the infiltrating Pakistani soldiers in Kargil and remained locked in artillery clashes with Pakistan on the Line of Control. And so it started.

After the two-month long battle, the first signs of victory became apparent when the Indian Army launched its final attacks in July with the help of the Indian Air Force. Those guarding the skies navigated as tenuous a tight rope flying perilously close to the peaks that were now in the grope of the Pakistani army and at the same time making sure they kept India's promise of not crossing the Line of Control.

The aim was sharp, the arms and ammunition confident of purpose, the hands that fired them immovable. And so it should be.

In the aftermath too, for the victims who live the fear and uncertainty of a time ravaged by war, an unpredictable future and the willingness to build everything from the scratch comes as no surprise. Or so it seems.
Here, a girl stands outside a refugee camp in Minji, a village on out-skirts of Kargil, in Indian-controlled Kashmir, on 28 June 1999.
Here, refugee children, displaced from war-affected areas like Kargil and Drass on the Indian side of Kashmir, hold banners expressing their support for Indian troops in a pro-India rally on 12 July, 1999 near Minji, a refugee settlement near the town of Kargil. India halted its military offensives in Kashmir on 12 July and set a deadline for the pullout of all Islamic infiltrators from the disputed territory.
Sometimes, it is a cause that matters the most, after all...
Amidst the vigorous political cacophony, the voice of the innocent was rising high and audible. Helpless eyes looked on and the fierce battle in the Kargil and Drass sectors between Indian troops and Islamic guerrillas was leaving behind scars of an unfathomable torment. Far away from the earth that one called to be one’s home, one was slowly coming to terms with the word ‘refugee’. The return to normalcy was hardly going to be easy.
Here, refugees from the Drass sector prepare rice under a tent in a makeshift refugee camp about 70 kilometres north-east of Srinagar, on 15 June, 1999.

The then Defence Minister George Fernandes visited the Kargil region to take stock of the ongoing war between India and Pakistan. Lauding the efforts of the Indian soldiers, Fernandes vowed to give a fitting reply to the opposing side. The Indian side, apart from condemning the covert attack on its soil, also put diplomatic pressure on Pakistan to withdraw its troops. The then Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee succeeded in building the world opinion and Pakistan was criticised by other countries for allowing its paramilitary forces and insurgents to cross the Line of Control. Within the country, there was a surge in patriotism, with every Indian expressing his/her support for the Kargil cause.
There are times when the choice between a friend and an enemy is but divided by a bullet. An apt answer would perhaps have to mean a life lost. But that’s the rule all must follow in the field of war. All’s fair – that’s what they say. However, what of those who are caught in between the tussle? One wonders…
Here, children of refugees study in a makeshift school 15 July 1999 in Minji in Kargil sector in Indian held Kashmir. The migrants are hopeful that after the agreement between India and Pakistan comes into effect about the withdrawal of the infiltrators from Pakistan, they will be able to return to their villages and the children be studying in their real schools.
Disaster often brings with it the debris of all that’s fallen and may never come back; but it also brings with it a search for hope, thoughts of change and a belief in another day, another sun. In these searching eyes, it is that hope that gains strength, perhaps.

As the war progressed, it turned intense because the infiltrators, apart from being equipped with small arms and grenade launchers, were also armed with mortars, artillery and anti-aircraft guns. The Kargil conflict was the first war in history to be fought between two nuclear powers. The Pakistan-trained insurgents entered eight kilometres into Indian territory and attempted to establish footholds along strategically located ridges at altitudes more than 15,000 feet.
As the fight intensified, so did the damages deepen. Thousands of people were having to migrate and leave their homes from the Drass, Kargil and Batalik areas after India started fighting against allegedly Pakistan-backed Islamic guerrillas who crossed the Line of Control in Kashmir . Here, children refugees wait to see a doctor outside a hospital in Minji, a village on outskirts of Kargil, in Indian-controlled Kashmir, on 28 June, 1999.
To an army man’s strategic mind, arms hold meaning, and purpose too. But what of a child whose hands have not yet left the soft surfaces of a toy? War often is like this – it’s not only a battle of strength but ineffable and conflicting contrasts. Or isn’t it?

WE SALUTE OUR SOLDIERS !