I had just gone through this brilliant post
Nathia Gali ” Heaven on Earth “
on
a must read.. really heaven on earth!!
I had just gone through this brilliant post
Nathia Gali ” Heaven on Earth “
on
a must read.. really heaven on earth!!
NOTE: visit www.techenlife.com for more details regarding this blog and military aviation!!
“Sir.”
“Captain,” I said, “could you ask Mehboob what it feels like to stand watch on a night like this?”
Yasin asked, and the reply came floating down.
“Mehboob says that a night such as this makes him feel good because he can see forever, and this helps him to perform his duty of observing the enemy. And he also says that the moonlight gives him a feeling of much refreshness.”
“Refreshness?”
“Yes. Much refreshness.”
Before ducking back inside, I took a long look. Somewhere out there, roughly 14 miles to the northeast, lay the Siachen—the heart of the conflict. To reach it, we would have to retrace our steps back to Islamabad; fly to Dubai, then to New Delhi, and then to Ladakh, the most remote and northern part of Kashmir; and from there drive up to the glacier—a loop of more than 3,000 miles to get to a place I could almost see from where I stood. All because of a four-inch line on a map.
BEFORE LEAVING PAKISTAN, I heard quite a few remarks about Narinder “Bull” Kumar, a legendary Indian military man and mountaineer, and none of them were complimentary. “Colonel Kumar is the man who started all this,” Major Tahir had fumed. “I have no wish to meet him—that bastard.”
The insults did little to prepare me for the bald, friendly man who was brimming with good humor and charm when we met at the New Delhi airport. Kumar, now 69, is short and powerful, still packed with thick muscle from his days as a climber. He has a thin white mustache, an endearing propensity for laughing at his own jokes, and an enormous fondness for beer. Kumar’s family originally came from Rawalpindi and moved, just before Partition, to what is now the Indian state of Himachal Pradesh. After graduating from the Indian Military Academy in 1954, he joined the army and was earmarked for the cavalry. But in 1958 he got the chance to attend the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute in Darjeeling, run at the time by Tenzing Norgay, the Sherpa who summited Everest with Hillary. Inspired, Kumar flung himself into high-altitude mountaineering and began racking up notable achievements.
In 1965 he handled the logistics for India’s first successful expedition to Everest, which placed nine men on the summit, then a record. In 1970 he led the first recognized ascent of 23,997-foot Chomo Lhari, the highest mountain in Bhutan. And in 1977 he headed up the first ascent of the difficult northeast spur of Kanchenjunga. The nickname Bull comes from his tendency to charge relentlessly into whatever he’s doing. He’s a national hero in India, the star of seven films, six books, and two postage stamps. These days he’s a successful businessman in New Delhi and, with his 32-year-old son, Akshay, runs an adventure travel company called Mercury Himalayan Explorations, which we had hired for the task of getting us to the Siachen Glacier.
Kumar’s involvement with the Siachen dates back to 1977, when he was approached by a German rafter who wanted to undertake the first descent of the Nubra River from its source at the snout of the glacier. The man brought Kumar a map of northeastern Kashmir that had an unusual feature. Beyond NJ9842, the point where the Kashmir cease-fire line ends and an invisible line was supposed to run “thence north to the glaciers,” the map depicted a straight line canting off at a dramatic northeastern angle and terminating on the Chinese border at Karakoram Pass. The story behind this line, which suggested that the Siachen Glacier lay squarely inside Pakistan, remains mysterious to this day. One theory, however, is that it was drawn by the U.S. military.
Back in 1962, India and China got into a brief war over the Aksai Chin, a 15,440-square-mile section of high desert east of the Karakoram that was claimed by both countries. Several months before the fighting ended (resulting in a crushing defeat for India), the U.S. government provided an airlift to aid beleaguered Indian troops. Five years later, the U.S. Defense Mapping Agency, a division of the Defense Department, published a Tactical Pilotage Chart for northern Kashmir. TPCs, which are designed to help military pilots avoid trespassing into another country’s airspace, sometimes delineate borders by making reference to prominent geographical features easily distinguishable from the air. Karakoram Pass, which stands out among an otherwise indistinguishable sea of snow-capped peaks, was one of these.
Whatever its murky origins may have been, the DMA’s Tactical Pilotage Chart for 1967 was the first recorded instance of the line connecting NJ9842 to Karakoram Pass. Over the next several years, it was reproduced by some of the most prominent publishers in international cartography, which often use DMA maps as a source of information. “When I saw this map,” Kumar told me, “it didn’t take more than a split second to say it was wrong! I was the one who discovered this.”
In short order, Kumar got his hands on journal reports from the international expeditions that had traveled from Pakistan into the Siachen. In January 1978, he took his findings to Lieutenant General M. L. Chibber, India’s director of military operations. Chibber quickly obtained permission for Kumar to mount a reconnaissance expedition to the Siachen. That summer Kumar led 40 climbers and 30 porters up to the glacier’s halfway point, and from there a summit team of three completed an ascent of 24,297-foot Teram Kangri II. The team also came across the sort of evidence that Chibber was looking for.
“We found labels from tin cans and cigarette packs with Pakistani names, German and Japanese equipment,” recalled Kumar. “It was this that convinced the government of India that Pakistan was going where it should not have been.”
In the summer of 1981, Kumar went back with a 70-member team and completed a snout-to-source traverse of the glacier. In eight weeks, they climbed Saltoro Kangri I (25,400 feet) and Sia Kangri I (24,350), hiked to the top of Indira Col (the watershed at the north end of the glacier), and skied Bilafond La.
“There wasn’t a soul there,” Kumar recalled of those adventures. “There was so much to climb—so many uncharted high peaks! And those pinnacles—rock pinnacles going straight up! And small glacial streams—so blue and so cold! The view from Sia Kangri looking down on the Siachen was such a beautiful sight. Just like a great white snake… going, going, going. I have never seen anything so white and so wide.”
Later that year, Kumar published an account of his journeys in the newsmagazine Illustrated Weekly of India. This set off alarms in Pakistan, and by the summer of 1983 military expeditions were probing the glacier on both sides. By then Chibber had been sent to Leh and was running India’s Northern Command. He concluded that the only way to secure the glacier was to preempt the Pakistanis and seize Bilafond La and Sia La. In mid-April 1984, two platoons of Ladakh Scouts were airlifted onto the Siachen. On April 17, two Pakistani helicopters were sent out for reconnaissance, one of them piloted by Colonel Muhammad Farooq Altaf. They reached Sia La that afternoon.
“We could see a party of Indian soldiers,” recalled Altaf, who is now retired and lives in Islamabad. “I was in the number-two helicopter, and the number-one helicopter had just turned back when one chap started firing. In our postflight check after returning to Dansam, we found bullet holes near the tail rotor. These were the first-ever bullets fired in Siachen.” He shook his head and smiled. “They beat us by one week. Too bad.”
General Chibber’s strategy had worked. But he soon realized that if they wanted to retain control of the passes, Indian troops would have to spend the winter at altitude. This was a new kind of warfare, and Chibber used every trick he could think of to stack the odds in India’s favor. He flew in prefabricated fiberglass igloos designed for Antarctic expeditions. He persuaded the Dalai Lama to confer a special blessing on a set of silk bracelets for the Ladakhi troops. In February 1985, the Pakistanis attacked Bilafond La but failed to dislodge the Indian troops. When spring arrived, Chibber’s men were still in place.
“And that’s when the race started,” recalls Brigadier Muhammad Bashir Baz, who commanded a Pakistani helicopter unit in the Siachen theater from 1987 to 1989. “Each side started climbing any peak they could. Then the other side would go and occupy a neighboring higher peak. And so on, and so on, until they reached 22,000 feet. That is how this war unfolded.”
AFTER MEETING KUMAR, Teru and I flew to Leh, the 11,500-foot capital of Buddhist Ladakh. There we met Yaseen, our uncontainably cheerful Kashmiri guide, and a liaison officer assigned by the Indian army to chaperon us on our trek across the glacier: Somnil Das, a 24-year-old infantry captain who had recently spent four months commanding a post above Bilafond La. His job was to make sure that we didn’t see anything we weren’t authorized to see.
To get from Leh to the snout of the glacier, we hired two jeeps and headed in a snowstorm up the single-lane road that ascends through miles of steep switchbacks before it crosses Khardung La, at 18,380 feet the highest paved highway pass in the world. We descended into the Nubra Valley. The surrounding ridges were naked and brown, as smooth as a fossilized dinosaur bone. The snow turned to rain, the rain ended, and the afternoon filled with a pale lavender light. Now the road started climbing again, and flowers appeared: the wild, tangled Sia roses that gave the glacier its name. Das swiveled around in the front seat.
“Hey, would you guys like to hear some rock?” he asked, shoving a tape of Guns N’ Roses’ Use Your Illusion II into the jeep’s cassette deck.
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Those five ambiguous words were a ticking time bomb. In the spring of 1984, after three decades of cross-border hostility, armies from both countries raced to seize two key passes on the Saltoro Ridge, which originates not far from NJ9842 and forms the western wall of the Siachen. Since then, the war has been fought largely in secret, its front lines rarely observed by outsiders or foreign journalists. All along the Saltoro Ridge, Indian and Pakistani soldiers have erected between 120 and 150 outposts perched at elevations ranging from 9,000 to 22,000 feet. The locations of most of these, their routes of access, even their names, are closely guarded secrets. The total number of combatants is unknown, but probably falls between 8,000 and 10,000. The death toll is also classified, with estimates ranging between 2,500 and 4,000 killed since 1984. The cost of the war is murky, too; together the two countries are estimated to be spending between $182 million and $438 million a year.
Here’s what is beyond dispute: Never before have troops fought for such extended periods in such extreme physical conditions. At least twice a week a man dies, occasionally from bullets or artillery, but more often from an avalanche, a tumble into a crevasse, or a high-altitude sickness—perils usually faced only by elite climbers. Not surprisingly, the men who serve in the war regard it as the supreme challenge for a soldier.
“Minus 50 at 21,000 feet—it’s beyond anything the human body is designed to endure,” an Indian officer on the Siachen told me. “This is the ultimate test of human willpower. It’s also an environmental catastrophe. And—no doubt about it—things can only get worse.”
LAST AUGUST AND SEPTEMBER, after securing access from the Pakistani and Indian armies, Teru and I trekked to both sides of the Siachen conflict to get a look at this highest and most hidden of military standoffs—the first American journalists to do so on foot. It was a tense time. Islamic militants had bombed the Indian Parliament in New Delhi the previous December. By the summer, a million troops were deployed along the border. When we arrived in Pakistan, British and American diplomats had just succeeded in getting the two countries to step back from the brink of a nuclear exchange.
Our journey began in Khapalu, a town on the Shyok River, where we met Major Mohammed Tahir Iqbal, the second-highest-ranking officer at brigade headquarters for Pakistan’s Siachen operations. The major greeted us in his office, then took us outside to view a concrete scale model of the entire Siachen theater. “Our objective is to foil the Indian designs,” he explained, waving a long bamboo stick to point out various features of the model. “We are just trying to maintain operational readiness so that they do not think of any further mischief.” Easy enough to say, but by almost any measure—military might, economic clout, political stability, population—India is more powerful than Pakistan. And it never lets Pakistan forget it. To compensate, Pakistani soldiers exhibit a spirited swagger, which can be fierce, comical, and endearing. Dressed in a tan one-piece uniform and speaking with clipped military precision, Tahir combined a little of everything as he clomped about on the Siachen model in his heavy black boots.
The model featured more than 100 white-capped mountains and ridges, blue rivers, and carefully labeled flags marking each army’s bases and posts. To the east and west stood a dense thicket of peaks divided by the two main rivers cutting through the region, the Indus and its mighty tributary the Shyok. There were few towns, roads, or bridges. Several glaciers were splayed across the map, the largest of which, by far, was the Siachen, which ran in a long diagonal line from northwest to southeast. Running parallel to the Siachen on its western side was a massive, virtually unbroken wall of peaks and escarpments. This was the Saltoro Ridge.
Looking at the impenetrable mountaintops, you could see why almost a century passed between the first report of the Siachen Glacier’s existence—by the British explorer William Moorcroft, in 1821—and its first survey, in 1912, by the American team of Fanny Bullock Workman and her husband, William. You could also see why climbers have been intrigued: Here, deep in the Karakoram, an entire sea of virgin peaks lay waiting to be bagged.
During the decade after the first ascent of Mount Everest, by Sir Edmund Hillary in 1953, virtually all the great peaks in the eastern Himalayas of Nepal were climbed, including Cho Oyu, Lhotse, and Dhaulagiri. Soon enough, mountaineers turned their gaze to the Karakoram, which contains four of the 14 highest mountains on earth—most notably K2, first summited by an Italian team in 1954. The door to the Karakoram was mostly shut, however, during the two wars that India and Pakistan fought over Kashmir in 1965 and 1971. Then, in 1974, Pakistan’s Ministry of Tourism decided to open the region again, issuing permits allowing foreign expeditions to climb on the Baltoro Glacier, near K2, and to explore the no-man’s-land around the Siachen
Between 1974 and 1981, at least 16 major expeditions climbed up to the Siachen and beyond—11 from Japan, three from Austria, and one each from Britain and the United States. Pakistan’s motive for issuing the permits, it seems, was a desire to promote mountain tourism. But as expedition reports circulated through the mountaineering community made clear, the foreigners had concluded that the Siachen belonged to Pakistan. This impression also took root in the minds of the Pakistani government, and today the list of these expeditions is often cited as proof of ownership. “Our contention,” Tahir told me, waving his stick, “is that this is our area.”
India says the same thing, and both sides are unwilling to admit that neither has a solid legal claim to the region. (To avoid being dragged into the conflict, the United States has steadfastly refused to take a side.) Robert Wirsing, a professor at the U.S. Navy’s Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies in Honolulu and one of the world’s leading experts on the dispute over Kashmir, puts it more bluntly. In his view, the claims of both sides are equally spurious. “The Indian arguments are absolutely 100 percent false, and so are Pakistan’s,” says Wirsing. “The Pakistanis have no right to base their claim on permits issued to foreign mountaineers. And the only strength to the Indian argument is that it’s backed by a force that cannot be dislodged.”
Neither side is budging, but judging from Tahir’s map, the Pakistanis definitely face an uphill task. The entire Saltoro Ridge, including the two highest passes that connect Pakistan to the glacier—Bilafond La at 18,200 feet and Sia La at 18,850 feet—is bristling with red flags: Indian army posts. On ridges running parallel but at significantly lower elevations, you see a corresponding belt of blue flags: the Pakistani posts.
Tahir reluctantly conceded that the Indians own the high ground, but insisted that Pakistan has “better communications, better roads, and better motivation.” And that wasn’t all.
“Morally,” he said, bringing the tutorial to a close, “we occupy the high ground.”
TO REACH THE FRONT LINES we drove along the Shyok, then headed deep into the mountains to a village called Dansam, a hub for roads leading to the major Pakistani combat sectors. Our destination was a base called Ghyari, which is lodged at 12,400 feet in a narrow valley leading up to Bilafond La. We arrived on an August evening under a canopy of stars, coming to a halt beneath a wooden marquee emblazoned with the words GUARDIANS OF THE FROZEN FRONTIER.
Ghyari sits between soaring granite walls as bold and majestic as El Capitan, threaded with waterfalls that turn to mist before they hit the valley floor. Farther up this valley lie several Pakistani artillery batteries, which lob shells at the Indian posts dug in on the ridges above. Ghyari is a supply center and rehab station for worn-out soldiers—they recuperate after coming down from the front, or pause to acclimatize before marching up to relieve their comrades, who are rotated out every two to eight weeks to prevent high-altitude sickness and brain damage.
The Ghyari base consists of a dozen neatly whitewashed buildings and a 600-year-old mosque established by Sayyid Ali Hamadani, who introduced Islam to Baltistan in the 14th century. A few steps from the mosque sits an underground bunker that serves as a studio for a young man named Makhtar, who paints portraits of the shaheeds, or martyrs—soldiers who have been killed in this war and thereby gained admission to paradise. The Pakistanis believe their religious faith gives them motivation that the Indians lack. “The concepts of jihad and shahadat—or Ôlife after death’—help us strike hard,” explained Major Sikendar Hayat, 41, second in command at Ghyari. “It is what we call a force-multiplier.”
Islam isn’t the only influence on this army; as is true on the Indian side, its rituals are clearly British. At the heart of the base sits a crude cricket field said to be the highest in the world. On our first afternoon at Ghyari, a Sunday, the officers gathered on a row of folding chairs to watch a match. In front of them was a low table with a field telephone that squawked every few minutes as posts called in reports.
After two hours of casual cricket talk—”Good batting, sir!”… “Shabash!Well done!”—the game was halted for high tea. The officers rearranged their chairs in a circle while the sirdar, a bearded man in a white lace skullcap, started serving them. Without warning, a massive, hollow boom resounded from the ridges up near the front lines.
“Artillery?” asked Major Sikendar, looking behind him.
“Rockslide,” responded a second officer.
“Must be artillery,” said a third.
“Phone!” barked the commanding officer, a chiseled lieutenant colonel on his third tour of Siachen duty.
Sikendar seized the green field telephone, cranked the handle, listened, grunted. Everyone else stared at the ground. After a minute or two, it emerged that dynamite was being used to clear a route blocked by a landslide. The tension ratcheted down a notch, but the tea was now cold. Sunday afternoon cricket was over.
THAT EVENING IN THE OFFICERS’ MESS, three guests on loan from other regiments were entertained prior to returning to their home units. The C.O. singled out one young captain for special praise: Safdar Malik, 30, who had just descended from a post called Tabish, which sits on the northwest side of Bilafond La. It takes six days to reach Tabish from Ghyari, traveling by night to avoid Indian snipers and artillery. The final approach requires troops to jumar up ropes anchored to a rock wall, exposing them to sniper fire from several Indian posts hundreds of feet above. Once you get to the post, you’re sure to be pounded relentlessly by Indian rockets.
The Siachen Glacier is located in the eastern Karakoram range in the Himalaya Mountains at about , just east of the Line of Control between India-Pakistan. Pakistan and India controls Siachen Glacier , including all tributary glaciers. At 70 km (43 mi) long, it is the longest glacier in the Karakoram and second-longest in the world’s non-polar areas. It falls from an altitude of 5,753 m (18,875 ft) above sea level at its head at Indira Col on the China border down to 3,620 m (11,875 ft) at itsterminus.
The glacier’s region is the highest battleground on earth, where India and Pakistan have fought intermittently since April 1984 when the Indians tried to occupy the part of glacier situated in Pakistan. Both countries maintain permanent military presence in the region at a height of over 6,000 metres (20,000 ft). The site is one of the most eminent examples of mountain warfare.Both India and Pakistan have wished to disengage from the costly military outposts.
An Indian author writes
“”
Pakistan Army is suffering much less in Siachen Glacier because of following reasons:
- Lesser number of Pakistani troops are operating in Siachin.
- Pakistanis are on lower peaks/area so height is less and weather in not that harsh. At last less causalities.
- Pakistanis have built roads up to their camps in the region so they are not using helicopters like Indians, so less crashes.
- Pakistan Army is not involved in counter insurgency operations like Indian Army haling 1 million troops deployed for such operations – Pak Army can change troops more frequently, so no prolonged exposure.
Pak Amry never tried to capture those inhospitable barren heights. Indian Army occupied the area and adjoining peaks in early eighties, so Indian intrusion was done in utter negation of Simla Ageement – asking both the Countries to respect status quo on LoC.
I started this topic, because I guess the biggest factor hampering the issue of Kashmir was the maintainability of Simla Agreement which is primarily the cause of anger amongst the two nations, as to who actually did broke the agreement and I guess Siachen is a major factor of discussion in breaking the agreement. In fact if you go through the link which i gave from Indian embassy in US, it says that Kargil operation was primarily suspected to have been aimed at occupying Siachen only, so I guess before discussing Kashmir (which boils down to reliability of Indian and Pakistani governments) we should actually discuss the reliability of the two governments.
Pakistan never claimed Siachin territory prior to Indian occupation. Some expeditions proceeding to that area got permission from Pakistan and some from India before 83-84.
Indian occupation in early eighties provided an opportunity to Pak Army to engage a sizable strength of Indian Army in the glaciered region on freezing heights.
Indians are maintaining large force and then supporting the force’s logistic through means of light weight helicopters – lot many get crashed because of bad weather and were shot down by Pak Army as well.
Keeping forces at Siachen is huge multifarious drain for Indian Army. If Indian Army could be forced to pay huge price by keeping a check on it with minimal force and that too at relatively better atmospheric condition – what goes of Pak Army. After all, Indian Army is an enemy army. Real interest of Pak Army is to keep Indian Army at Siachen as long as possible “”
This can explain the nature of extreme war. There has been no fighting on Siachen since late 2003, when a ceasefire came into effect between Indian and Pakistani troops. Since 1984, the “snow-warriors” of India and Pakistan had been locked in supremacy for the control of Siachen glacier. Its inhospitable terrain has taken heavy toll of men and resources on both sides. The world’s highest battlefield, for two decades India and Pakistan fought at altitudes of over 20,000 feet in minus 60ºC temperatures.
Estimates of the troop deployments vary. One estimate suggested that both sides deploy about 3,000 soldiers, while another reports that a total of some 10,000 troops are deployed on each side of the Line of Actual Control. According to a third estimate Pakistan maintains three battalions on the glacier, while India has seven battalions defending Siachen.
The Pakistanis can resupply most of their posts by road and pack mule. At their forward positions, some as high as 21,000 feet, the Indians must rely on helicopters.
At one time, one Pakistani soldier was killed every fourth day, while one Indian soldier was killed every other day. Over 1,300 Pakistani soldiers died on Siachen between 1984 and 1999. According to Indian estimates, this operation had cost India over Rs. 50 billion and almost 2,000 personnel casualties till 1997. Almost all of the casualties on both sides have been due to extreme weather conditions.
Siachen is of extreme strategic importance: it commands the only passes from China and Pakistan into Ladakh. Indian occupation of this land prevents China from potentially aiding Pakistan in any conflict in the area, prevents Chinese outflanking in Ladakh, and prevents Pakistan from cutting off northern Ladakh from the rest of India

Indian Soldiers on patrol at 4,900 meters near India’s Forward Logistics Base above the Siachen
In April 1984, the Indian Army in an operation code-named MEGHOOT (“Cold Messenger”) airlifted a battalion from the Kumaon Regiment and Ladakh Scouts onto the glacier, and a platoon on each of the two key northern passes, Bilafond La and Sia La, in the Saltoro Range just west of Siachen.
As Siachen Glacier is an integral part of Baltistan, a region in Pakistan’s Northern Areas, Pakistan responded quickly to forestall Indian agression and foil the Indian attempt at using the passes over glacier to invade and occupy more territory. The Indian occupation of Siachen Glacier also threatens the Karakoram Highway (the old “Silk Route”), which is a major road linking Pakistan to China at the Khunjerab Pass. By its strong resolve and determination Pakistan has thus prevented future Indian aggression in the region. Tracing back the annals of history, Siachen has always been part of Pakistan since independence in 1947. Mountaineering and trekking expeditions to the Siachen area routinely applied for, and obtained authorization by the government of Pakistan. The renowed American journalist, Martin A. Sugarman in his book “Siachen – War Above the Clouds” quotes many examples and authorities which prove Pakistan’s possession and its claims over the area. According to Mr Sugarman, “As early as 1957, the imperial College of London asked Pakistani authorities for permission to send an expedition to Siachen. Many other international expeditions, including one by an Austrian team (in 1961) and three by Japanese groups (in 1962, 1975 and 1976), sought Pakistani authorization to visit Siachen’s nearby mountain peaks and glaciers. In addition, many international mountaineering and trekking journals and guidebooks refer to Pakistan as the governmental authority in the Siachen area”.
American and British maps and atlases including the Britannica Atlas, the National Geographic Society’s Atlas of the World, The Times Atlas of the World, and the University of Chicago’s Historical Atlas of South Asia” – show the Ceasefire Line/Line of Control running from NJ 9842 in a straight path northeastward to the Karakoram Pass on the Chinese border, with Siachen Glacier clearly inside Pakistan”.

View from Sher post, a high altitude Pakistani forward position.

Pak Army soldiers walk above their post at a height of 18,655 feet, soldiers generally spend 90 days at a high altitude base before descending.

3 o’clock .. Time to wake up the Indians.
Ever since the Indian aggression in 1984, soldiers of the Pakistan Army stand vigil against invasion in areas characterized by a very hostile enviroment: high and vast mountains and large glacial expanses; altitudes of around 6,000m and above; temperatures that fall to -50°C in winters, further accentuated by the wind chill factor; frequent and harsh blizzards that blow away, separate or bury tents, stores and shelters. In these areas, traditional measures for security and information cannot be carried out because men and equipment cannot be carried out because men and equipment cannot move about freely. Traditional solutions and practices as regards weapons, equipment and doctrines are unsuitable, for nowhere else in the world have such conditions been encountered. Military operations take on completely new dimensions, further compounded by the effects of high altitude and a deepening sense of isolation.
The gradients in this region are extremely steep and the valleys very narrow. Vast glaciers, which give birth to fast-flowing streams and rivers, are hemmed in the valleys. The glaciers are the only avenues of movement along their medial moraines; these routes, however, are only fit for foot movement as loose snow and numerous crevasses make cross-country movement almost impossible. Snowfall during winters and the melting of ice durring summers cause continuous changes on the glacial surface and within it. Due to extremely low temperatures and frequent storms and blizzards, survival is possible only with special clothing, equipment and accommodation. Summers are very mild, and altitudes above 4,500m remain snow-bound throughout the year.
Foot movement is equally slow and fatiguing. To traverse about 25km beyond 4,200m requires fice to six days of walking. On ice surfaces its is even slower and cumbersome, with speed reduced to 100m in 15-20 minutes with two-three minutes rest after every five minutes. Beyond 5,400m, more frequent halts for rest become necessary; a person not properly acclimatized takes much longer, and is always a liability for the group. Altitude also has a telling effect on the porters who can barely manage a 15-20kg load beyond 5,400m – and that too with a day/two days rest after each trip. A soldier’s combat load also has to be correspondingly reduced, with the attendant loss of operational efficiency and selfreliance.
Helicopter operations are also adversely affected. Due to the rarefied atmosphere, varying temperatures and unpredictable wind conditions, the lift capability and serviceability of helicopters and greatly reduced. Only light helicopters can be used beyond 4,500m; an ALOUETTE, for example, can just deliver about 40kg up to 6,100m in summer and about 80kg in winter – and this while operating at its extreme capacity. Evacuation of casualties is another nightmare, requiring frequent turnover to avoid pilot fatigue.
Since these areas are mostly inaccessible, maps are highly inaccurate, which of course means more reliance on physical reconnaissance either by patrols or by helicopters. This, however, is not always possible; when the sky is overcast and the clouds are very low, visibility becomes severely restricted, and similarity of terrain makes recognition of features extremely difficult. In blizzards, snowfalls and bad weather the visibility is further reduced (down to a few meters), severely curtailing movement, target engagement and operation of helicopters. At an average, these conditions prevail for seven out of ten days during winter.
Winter conditions present a whole series of challenges beyond reduced visibility. Temperatures drop to as low as -40°C in non-glaciated areas and -60°C in glaciated areas. Beyond 5,400m, temperatures as low as -70°C to -80°C have been experienced. The wind in the valleys can blow at 70-80 knots, accentuating the wind chill factor. At heights, these winds take the form of blizzards that bury tents, shelters and weapons emplacements under heaps of snow. Blizzards lasting for over two-three days and burying shelters under 2.5-3m of snow are not an uncommon phenomenon.
Extremely low temperatures adversely affect the physical well-being of troops and have pronounced psychological implications. Slight carelessness or lack of proper clothing results in frostbite within a matter of minutes, at times ultimately needing amputations. Prolonged isolation and confinement to shelters during snowfalls and blizzards, weighs heavily on the nerves of the men. Continuous loss of fluid through perspiration and reduced fluid intake, can lead to kidney failure if not checked in time. Light clothing, however warm enough to beat the freezing cold, is essential. By the same token, snow tents are fine for short-duration halts or for patrols needing overnight stay away from the base; however, for prolonged stays pre-fabricated shelters with proper insulation are needed. The shelters have to be strong, yet light enough to be frequently dug out and reassembled after a snowstrom.
Living at high altitudes exposes soldiers to henceforth uncommon ailments, including most particularly pulmonary and/or cerebral oedema. Both occur as a result of the lack of oxygen at heights and increased activity; pulmonary oedema is quite common, but not very serious if treated in time, while cerebral oedema is invariably fatal, though fortunately less commom. In the former, death can occur due to lung failure and in the latter, due to brain damage if the victim is not evacuated in time. Another common but not very serious ailment is high altitude sickness resulting in vomiting, headache and fatigue. Psychological effects include a tendency towards intolerance and acute mental depression.
The standard and effective curve for the above ailments is to bring the patient below 4000m. That, however, is not without problems – even without considering a situation of military conflict. To bring down one casualty from 6,100m to 5,400m requires a party of five-six persons and normally takes six to eight hours – while for any such casualty, time is at premium. Due to biological changes in human blood and extremely low temperatures, many drugs lose their potency and effect. More casualities occur in these areas as a result of natural hazards than through other reasons.
Extremely low temperatures also have their effects on weapons, munitions and equipment. Experience reveals sluggishness in the cyclic operation of weapons, malfunctioning due to freezing of lubricants, and breakage due to brittleness. Munitions – especially mortar bombs, rockets and recoilless rifle projectiles – tend to behave erratically, a phenomenon attributable to the rarefied atmosphere. Formation of fog close to automatic weapons restricts visibility and prevents their continuous use. Food is another aspect which is seriously affected due to the high altitudes and extreme cold. Loss of appetite or aversion to the same type of food for days on end, seriously affects the morale.
The Indian intransigence over Siachen in 1984, forced Pakistan to defend its territorial integrity. Lately, however, having found the human and financial cost of maintaining its troops there unmanageable, the Indians have reportedly been making diplomatic moves to persuade Pakistan to disengage from Siachen. Pakistan, however, maintains that Siachen has always been part of Pakistan; hence, India should vacate the area, as it was the aggressor to occupy a portion of it back in 1984.
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During the 19th century rule, Kashmir was a popular tourist destination due to its climate. The railway to Rawalpindi, and a road thence to Srinagar made access to the valley easier. When the temperature in Srinagar rose at the beginning of June, the residents migrated to Gulmarg, which was a fashionable hill station during British rule. Rawalakot was another popular destination.
Few years back i happened to be in BAGH, a beautiful city, located just at the heart of AZAD KASHMIR ( Pakistan )
Surrounded by beautiful valleys and on the confluence of two mini nullahs- Malwani & Mall, which flow all the year round.
the district headquarters of district Bagh is 100 Kilometers from Muzaffarabad via Kohallah & 80 Kilometers via Suddhen Gali, 205 Kilometers from Islamabad and 48 kilometers from Rawalakot.
people of Bagh are brave, courageous and skilled, especially the artificers in the field of bakery & confectionery. The GULAB JAMANS ( a traditional sweet ) were of no match
. The well recognized ” Haji Peer Pass ” is about 32 kilometers from Bagh City linked with metalled road. Middle standard hotels, PWD and Forest rest houses are available for visitors, whereas, all the basic necessities of life are available in the Bagh bazars.
I visited some of the most beautiful sights in this world. Spell bounded landscapes were they ..
Sudhan Gali (also known as Suddhen Gali) is a village located in Bagh District, Azad Kashmir. It lies on the main road that connects the district Bagh to Muzaffarabad, the capital of Azad Kashmir.
One of the most beautifful valleys in this planet, Sudhan gali. Sudhan gali is located at the height of 7000 feet. This beautiful, scenic place attracts hundreds of tourists from all over Azad Kashmir and Pakistan. There are two guest houses for tourists, which are constructed very beautifully and attract large number of people each summer.
Sudhan Gali is also home to some of the rarest forests in the region containing pine trees that are hundreds of years old. Due to lack of knowledge/interest, these forsest are now endangered to become extinct as locals continue deforestation by cutting down trees yet local/state governments seem to have no interest in saving them.

Before the earthquake it had been used as a base camp for hikers and trekkers for the Ganga Choti mountain which lies nearby
A major earthquake of 2005 had ruined this place, But by the grace of ALLAH and with the ultimate efforts of the local residents, this place has gained its previous stature again.
UNICEF focused their relief efforts on places at high altitudes like Sudhan Gali (which has an altitude of 2,134 metres).
According to UNICEF
“ People have lost warm clothing, housing, food and utensils, and that could have affected children – who are the most vulnerable. That’s why UNICEF decided to distribute [kits] at the high altitudes. Last year there was about 12 feet of snow in this area.
LASDANA
From Bagh, a 15-km long metalled road leads to Las Danna which is a place of captivating scenery and natural beauty. From Lasdanna, three roads branch off the main road, i.e. Mahmood gali-Palangi, Haji pir- Aliabad and Abbasspur- Hajira respectively. A tourist rest house is available here for accommodation
Lasdana is a view point of Kashmir. Sometimes it is difficult to breath there because of its high altitude.
it rains almost every day in Lasdana, which makes the weather very chilly up there.
We had a wonderful experience of fishing in one of the water streams near Bagh.
One day when i was enjoying the water stream , one of my family members called me and said that
“there is plenty of fish running down the water”..
That was it..there they were calling our hunger or i must say tempting us to catch them
how did we get a net and how did we get those fish out of the water.. that’s a long story, but we really enjoyed fresh fried fish with SAMOSA’s that day
For all the adventure lovers, tourists.. Bagh ( Kashmir ) is a must visit place.