In the Kargil skirmish we saw the cold courage of our soldiers in the icy heights, as the whole nation rose spontaneously.

History has shown that only those nations survive who honour their soldiers. But this honour has to be a part of the mind-set. It would be futile if we forgot the soldier, once peace returned. It would be a betrayal. For battles are as much fought in the battlefields, as in the psychological make-up of a nation in times of peace.

I still remember October 1962. While television was yet to be, the radio and the newspapers were the only source of information and entertainment. Thus, the rumour mill churned long and steady as the shattering news of the relentless march of the Chinese troops, both in the Jammu and Kashmir and the then NEFA came. The nation suddenly faced a trial by the sword after the heady days of Panchsheel. Outnumbered, out-equipped and with stretched supply lines, the men fought as only the Indian Army can fight. The honour of their country, their regiment and their tradition was at stake.

While the politicians were shell shocked, the man on the street stood up, showing rare maturity and resolve. Many were the chapters written in gold by the blood of our soldiers.

I recall one such chapter, the Battle of Dhola, where the 2nd Rajput showed extraordinary bravery. In fact, reading books on such operations is an educating experience. Though in post-facto analysis, military strategists have analysed the campaigns and given differing evaluations, no one, has anything but the highest praise for the courage and tenacity of the Indian soldier.

In retrospect, it is clear that under the given circumstances, specially the odds, the performance of our soldiers was more than extraordinary. In fact, I lost a very dear relation. News came in November 1962 that Maj BK Pant of the 2nd Rajput was missing. It was chilling. He was a rare military man, highly educated and vastly read.

Then no news came for several months, till May 1963. It was a midnight knock. A tearful postman, who just handed over a telegram. Having known the family for years, he was too mumb to speak.

"Confirmed killed in action". Four words, but each with a stunning impact. But the brave family rallied round. The son, barely five, resolved to join the Army which he ultimately did. Several such telegrams were received in all parts of the country. Each was stoically read. A tear wiped and the people steeled themselves with a new resolve.

Then came 1965, 1971 and the Kargil conflict. The eighties and the nineties were the decades of insecurity, and the soldier was again up front in our minds. That the terrorists' target is global and the rich and mighty are not immune from its tentacles, was shown in September, last year. In December, a very brazen face of terrorism was revealed.

We again fall back on the soldier as he lines up all the way from the searing desert to the craggy marches, to the snow capped eminences. Let us hope peace prevails.

Indeed, I see a silhouette keeping vigil on a snowcapped post. The moon shines on. There are lurking dangers but I sleep peacefully, because I know that the brave soldier is awake. Anytime the gunfire can explode but he is prepared for it.