Going Beyond Endurance

The 45 kg pack is cutting into the weary muscles of his shoulders. The toughened boots are now soggy after hours of marching through the incessant rain. Soon he would have to stop and change socks, he knew, else it was only a matter of time before he would lose his feet.

Lt. Aswin Sethi wiped off the perspiration from his brows and paid a glance at the view around him. Had he not been debilitated by this inhumane exhaustion, the beautiful vision of cloud covered mountains and lush green trees would have enchanted him. But now the mountains were omens of more pains to come, the trees were giants set out to block his path.

'Won't the rain ever stop? Why does it never stop?'

In one area of his conscience Aswin knew the answer to the questions he asked himself, but it was unlikely that that answer would satisfy the conscience that asked it. Wet, cold and hungry, Lt. Aswin Sethi trudged on. In Mawsynram, the rain never stops.

It seemed to Aswin that his entire body was wet, everything around him was wet, the heavy trees and the moss that formed an adornment over their thick trunks, the brown earth which had not been dry since the day it eroded its path out of some long forgotten boulder, the sky which is a continuous torrent of rainbearing clouds, pouring its contents steadily, second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, in a never ending procession. Even the very air seemed wet, the heavy breath he drew in seemed wet enough to choke him.

His Battle Dress Uniform was long since sogged, the green fatigued jungle boots were drenched to the point of deterioration, the state of his under wear and the contents they were supposed to shield are better not contemplated. The combat pack with the water resistant explosives and detonators, the three boxes of ammunition and his assault rifle were all sogged. The only thing that could not get sogged is the map. The A2 sized topography map was laminated with heavy duty plastic and thus the only thing that was guaranteed from being absolutely drenched in this climate. Using this map and a compass Lt. Aswin Sethi has set out on the combat march to reach Base Camp Whiskey. Trekking alone over such wilderness without a single human contact or any indication of human presence for the past 5 days, Lt. Aswin Sethi is far beyond the pale of normal human sensibilities.If you ask him, he would not even be sure what year it is right now, he would not be surprised if an Allosaurus peeked at him from behind a clump of trees.

The ordeal had begun for Aswin five days earlier when he had parajumped from a Metac on to his Landing Site. Lt. Sethi is on his graduation trek as part of his training course at Jungle Warfare School, Silent Valley, Nilambur. After the gruelling three month long training at the Special Forces Training Center, the Red Bereted commando was tasked to survive and trek his way to a coordinate marked only by the map. A long shot away from the Equatorial Rainforest conditions of the Silent Valley, the Himalayan Rainforest conditions of Mawsynram is designed to take away the comfort factor of operating in familiar terrain. From his HALO jump from the Metac Lt. Sethi had to figure out where he had landed, plot the way to his objective and make it there. Alone. For food he had 5 kilograms of rations but was otherwise expected to live off the ground. For that purpose he had a combat knife and a machete.

Any hope he had to live off the ground comfortably was lost after his first day of trek here, after which he had to resort to the contingency measures he had been taught at the JWS, measures which were deemed last minute but were the mainstay of his survival in this trek ever since his meagre rations of food were lost on a tree top on his landing.

He still remembered the dirty taste of the first Copperhead Rat Snake he had eaten on the second day of his trek, raw. Latching his combat knife onto a wooden staff and striking the rat snake after tracking it for two hours. Then severing its head, peeling its skin off and eating its unholy meat all the while trying not to vomit by trying to visualize what he is eating as succulent Gulab Jamun. The unfulfilled satisfaction of having at least some sort of nutrition in his stomach and then moving on.

Now after 5 days of trekking Lt. Aswin Sethi started having a little optimism. After that last bend of trees he should be able to see Base Camp Whiskey. He was almost exactly at his designated target coordinates. There would be two camouflaged tents there, along with a Tatra truck. His objective was to activate three dummy explosive devices at the tents and truck to have the mission completed. 

Aswin has no idea how to complete the task. At his level of physical exhaustion and mental depravity, he would just as well pleased to go rock and roll with his assault rifle and its tracer rounds. But no, mission has to be completed, going rock and roll would mean mission failed. An RCSF Commando never fails. So drawing on his last reserves of strength and sanity Lt. Sethi crept towards the clearing, his assault rifle at the ready.

As he finally looked over into the clearing, Lt. Aswin Sethi received a massive surprise.

There was nothing in the clearing.

Absoluitely nothing.

No tents.

No trucks.

No soldiers.

No sign of human presence.

He was absolutely devastated. Had he made a mistake in plotting his route. Had he misjudged his landing coordinates? Had he taken a wrong turning somewhere? 

No. Not possible. 

He brought out his topography map and checked his position with other visible natural features. He was in the correct position.

Had he taken too long? Did his trek take too long causing the camp to go back?

Had they forgotten about me and my training mission?

Am I truly alone?

No. No point in crying about it. I need to get out of here, well there is that alternate destination. I am sure I can hitch a ride in some truck if I reach this road. What is another 25 km in this unholy terrain? Peace of cake for an RCSF Commando.

Having thus decided, Lt. Aswin Sethi stood up and prepared to march along the new route he plotted with his map and compass. As he put on his combat pack again he heard a soft voice whisper behind him.

"Off again? Without even sharing this lovely cake with us?"

Shocked to the core of his existence the bedraggled commando turned around to see a few spectral images emanating from the green undercover.

"Well done, kid. This was a rather special twist set up by the Colonel here and you smarted your way out of this pretty well."

Even more surprising was to hear the voice of Sqd. Sgt. Naresh Yadav, his Squad Instructor coming from the spectral image. The other taller specter then removed the camouflage from his head and talked to him.

"What are you looking at us like that for? Haven't you seen us in Ghillies before, Kid?"

The shock of seeing Col. Takbir Singh, Commanding Officer of the 24th Special Forces Regiment momentarily caused the green Lieutenant to forget to salute.

"Forget about all that BS, kid. Today, is your graduation day. The frills and pomp we would leave for parade ground later, today you have earned your laurels to stand alongside the best of the best of Royal Cochin Special Forces. Congratulations, Kid. Now go and lighten the load of our Sergeant Yadav here, who had been lugging all those bottles of rum for the past few days.

"Yeah, we had been following you from Day One, though we had cheated, we had toblerones and lots of water. We did not want to reduce the Serpentine population of the region. So tonight we eat, drink and sleep. Tomorrow at 0900 Command would send a chopper here."

Thus laughing the three soldiers broke out the food and bottles of rum to spent a rough and fun night as soldiers in the field.