I am a Naval Officer looking after the disability pension adjudications of all Armed Forces personnel. Having lived all my uniformed days on ships and submarines, the change to a real hardcore shore job came as a pleasant surprise and that too, the posting was in the Directorate General Armed Forces Medical Services. Literally, the other side of the fence, as also grey concrete vis-a-vis the blue waters of an ocean.

Having taken up my appointment, I went about the rather serious job of attempting a modicum of fairness in judgements as also to act with positiveness for the benefit of Indian Armed Forces personnel. With the Navy in my blood for years, I decided that I must attempt to have a view point also of the Army and Air Force to essentially develop within myself a blend of true Indian values from men on the rather harsh borders and front line air stations who face death on a day-to-day basis so gallantly.

And so with the blessings of the DGAFMS, I headed for Leh and the higher reaches in April, this year. Time, being limited, I neither had the patience for acclimatisation nor the inclination. Fool hardy, no doubt but I wanted to be with the men on the LoC. The hospital, the backbone of the area I was to visit, as also the High Altitude Research Centre was an eye opener on how patients from forward posts are given the best possible care from ever-smiling doctors and nurses.

After two days, I headed for Kargil by road, driving along mountain hugging roads constructed by the hardy and resolute Border Roads Organisation. The Indus river was mighty as I drove alongside her, at times calm and gentle, at times raging but most of the time roaring as she made her way into Pakistan. And the mountains, bare, cold, rocky, snow capped gave one a feeling of spiritualism and peace. The air was crisp, cold and the wind attempted to roughen me up as if knowing fully well that a seagull had possibly by mistake flown into a territory known for its harshness and bleakness. And the seagull had to be given a little chilly windy shiver. Yes, it was a shake up, no doubt, but what a lovely one was it. I reached 14000 ft at the Flotula Pass completely white and bitterly cold. I had to stop and show my respect for these beautiful mountains.

I removed my Naval peak cap and showered a little snow on my hair and looked up at the deeply overcast skies and prayed for the men who have been living in these regions day and night not knowing what the next day holds for them.

At Kargil, I stayed with a front line medical facility and saw the work the doctors perform in a rather ancient set up, in barracks well past their prime and ever so difficult to maintain. Yet, smiling doctors and nursing assistants are giving their best to the soldiers from forward posts. I visited one such post - Point 43 (once a Pakistan territory). The post was eyeball to eyeball with our neighbours and the young officers and men lived in the most primitive of conditions. Yet the morale of these troops within sniper fire distance was something to be observed, felt and experienced. The youngest jawan had so much to teach an old sea dog like me and with such enthusiasm.

Drass, the second coldest inhabited place in the world with winter temperatures touching minus 60 degree Celcius was my next halt. After a briefing at the medical centre, I had reached our heavy gun positions to see and feel for myself the retaliatory and awesome fire power.

At Batalik, I caught up with the mighty Indus roar as it enters Pakistan, an area fraught with danger, an area where the Army faced the terrible fire power of Pakistan in July 1999 and the accompanying havoc. Yet at those heights of 15000-18000 ft, the Indian soldiers stood firm maintaining a legacy left by the braves and sustaining a vigil day and night, protecting the country from the enemy.

My drive to Turtil along the Shlok river was like driving through fantasy land. It was a pleasure distributing sweets from my flag jeep to the many children, fair skinned, light-eyed with rosy pink cheeks who would come running up from the river bank or scramble down rocky slopes like lissom little ibex and I would wait eagerly to reward them with sweets and toffees. As they sucked the sweets, I would salute them with a Jai Hind followed by a loud chorus of Jai Hind and thus I would proceed to the next village. I reached the last point at the LoC, closely observed by Pakistan soldiers who probably wondered what a man in blues and white peak cap was doing around here.

The Siachen Glacier as usual gave me yet another memorable experience (my second trip into the region). While I had planned to reach the highest out-post at 20000 ft, nature prevented me from going up beyond 15000 ft that day due to bad weather. I was tremendously disappointed but later on I was to realise why guardian angels do exist. That night, the two posts I was to visit were wiped out in an avalanche. As I remarked earlier, the inhospitable terrain and climate were greater enemies of our soldiers than the neighbouring Army.

The Medical Centre at the confluence of the Nubra and Shlok rivers manned by medical officers and nursing assistants was doing a tremendous job taking care of troops and porters of the area - a bleak rocky land of double humped camels and ibex.

Back across the Khardungla Pass to Leh, I finally returned to Delhi after ten exhilarating days with the men on the LoC. It was a life time experience, a bag full of admiration and a head bowed in respect for those who had sacrificed their lives for the cause of the nation. A salute from the Navy to all those men past and present who guard this country against all odds, in the coldest and inhospitable terrains on this Earth.