A sheltered girl becomes an Army wife, and something changes in her: she gains the strength and courage to face adversities as her husband serves the nation. An Army wife, she reflects, does no lesser duty
IT was a dark day in the autumn of 1965 when the war broke out. I realised that I had been deserted by my close relatives and neighbours to fend for myself and my three small children.My husband, the late Lt Col PN Ganjoo (a Major then), was posted in the North-East, while I was in Jammu all by myself. Everybody was leaving town and I had to get my children to a safer place. There were no telephones and no communication from my spouse. It took me a few days of moving from pillar to post to get an Army vehicle to load my meagre belongings.Those few days my children would be home alone, with windows blacked out, hiding under the beds while there was shelling all around. During the day time, any kind of movement was restricted, and at night there were blackouts. It was an ‘each to his own’ situation. So I had to do the loading quickly in the wee hours of the morning.I was able to send telegrams to my husband, his older brother in Nagpur and my own brother in Delhi about my impending departure. But with no known dates.Boarding the vehicle with my children, we left for Pathankot. That was the closest railway line then, the main link to the rest of India. The journey itself was horrific and terrifying. There was bombing within short distances from us, staccato firing all around, filling the air and our ears, and raging fires in the fields lining either side of the road. Ours was the only vehicle on that stretch of the road. At times we had to stop to avoid being spotted by the enemy airplanes. It was a long and traumatic journey.I had been a sheltered girl till I became an Army bride. Somehow, being an Army wife gave me the strength and courage to face all adversities, especially when my husband would mostly be on forward locations. And this was a raging war! And very tough times!
After a long journey, we reached Pathankot in the evening. I unloaded the luggage at the transit camp and leaving my young daughter in charge of her siblings and our luggage, went to the railway station.
It was the last train leaving for New Delhi. God was with us as I managed to get berths on this last resort to safety. I got my luggage loaded in the dark. There was a total blackout at the railway station as well. That done, I went back to get the children and got on the train. It was overflowing with people, and had no breathing space.There was absolute darkness inside the train, which was moving silently and painfully slowly through the dark night. The only sounds were of drones flying overhead, silent screams of bombs being hurled to the ground and the awful sight of huge fires that erupted on explosion.The train would halt frequently to avoid detection from the air. My children were scared with their tongues between their teeth and hands over their ears. I, though as scared as them, was trying to soothe them with calming words. Finally, the train entered New Delhi. It was utter chaos at the railway station. People, like me, from war-struck towns had converged on the capital.My husband’s older brother, an Air Force officer, had managed to communicate to my brother in Delhi (who had not received my telegram) to expect me and the children any day from Jammu. He had spent two days running between the Old Delhi and New Delhi stations, trying to find when and where the train would arrive and to locate us. Finally, it was the announcement made by me from the station master’s office that we had reached safe and sound, that he found us in that melee. My children were finally safe!A few words to the young Army wives: take pride in being an Army officer’s wife. You have to be bold and strong and hold the fort while your husband is away serving the nation. In that, you yourself are doing your duty towards your country. Jai Hind. Jai Hind Ki Sena.The writer resides in Chandigarh