Our train moved on a hot priority to Ahmedabad in April 1965. We found ourselves at a railway station near Gandhidham early next morning. Our road journey commenced almost immediately.

The destination was the gateway to Rann, Khavda. The Rann of Kutch lay just six kilometres north of it. Settled in a tent for the night, we were briefed on the impending task. We were raring to go into action for operation Kabaddi.

Khavda, a sleepy oasis township of about hundred odd houses built of mud bricks with thatched roofs, four or five sweet water wells and some trees which provided shade, lay on the dust track to the Rann. Few good houses that existed were requisitioned by us and the shady areas were cordoned off for the Sector Headquarters and the helipad.

Tall, breaded, in their traditional attire donning tall turbans, Kutchi menfolk greeted wherever we went. Women in colourful dresses, carrying babes in arms, were heavily decked up with silver jewellery. Both locals and the Army shared water points, rest areas and animals for load carriage. Briefing after briefings followed. We endured them all.

Absence of landmarks coupled with fear of getting lost, imposed caution during our journey to Mori Bet, our next halt. Reaching late in the evening, we were off to our action stations at Biar Bet and Chhad Bet. By the end of April, Pakistan’s experimental war in the Rann was over. This left us jobless as well. Peace-time activities such as training, administration and maintenance in forward areas were very boring.

Watching sunrise in early morning chill was bracing. There was ample time to admire the fauna, chinkaras, wild asses and rabbits. As for birds, Rann is India’s only known flamingo breeding ground and is a staging area for migratory birds flying northwest. Never in my life had I seen so many camels of all shapes, size and hues. They were fitted with saddles and leather mashaks or water containers.

Kutchis have camel stories to tell which are impossible to believe. Newly born baby camels are capable of standing and following their mothers long distances within two hours of their birth. During afternoons, if you choose to drive instead of taking a nap, you could see mirages all over. Fly population proliferates dramatically and disappears at night. It was a common sight people having lunch inside mosquito nets. Flaming red sunsets were a sight to watch every evening. Wind speeds of 15 to 20 knots kept the evenings very pleasant. Someone even tried his hand at para-sailing using a plywood skid board hoisted by a parachute and ended up breaking his femurs.

A senior’s anniversary party on June 30, 1965 was an unforgettable affair. Lightning accompanied by a squall was delightfully ignored as we concentrated more on backslapping, camaraderie and drinking. This gala evening did not last long.

With a suden cloudburst, Rann was a vast sheet of water with us floating inside. We located our submerged tents, jeeps and trailers with long cammo net poles in good time. Next problem was to move them. Fishing for the belongings inside bunkers followed. Ropes and tow chains helped us to recover vehicles but they could not be started. It was now well past midnight and a few hours nap would help.

The following morning, MI-4 helicopter on survey indicated a supply-drop for us. We stood on the bonnets of the vehicle, slapping our tummies to indicate SOS. Down came a gunny bag containing some puffed rice, chocolates, kraft cheese and a jerrican of drinking water. We turned our attention to our vehicles and succeeded in recovering two of them. Others were tow started and driving back to the base in this condition was a task in itself. After an enforced halt at Khavda, we left for Bhuj the next day.