No time or space for the dead soldier

Among the news that is relegated to the boondocks one can hunt for one with a heading that reads, Major killed, Col injured in J&K encounter.

When I see this, I feel a pang that all Army officers’ spouses experience. And secretly, yet guiltily, heave a sigh of relief that it’s not my husband, who is also stationed in the Valley. There’s not much of a difference between this news item and one that was published a fortnight back or another one posted a month ago which also announced the deaths of army officers. 

It is becoming a common occurrence and hence it is not surprising that the information is buried across a few centimetres in a single column. Television channels do no better preferring to scroll the news at the bottom of the screen along with advertisements and calls for online polls.  Army officers dying in the battle against militancy is not breaking news for anyone other than those who wait for it to happen without warning. The space contest between these dead soldiers and the wedding of the Indian cricket captain, nikah of Sania Mirza and the kiss of Rakhi Sawant is woefully one-sided.

Ironically, a leading English newspaper that gave comparatively generous space to the story led it with the death of an LeT militant killed in the operation. The officer’s death was reported in the fourth paragraph. 

When reporting their deaths we rarely find photographs of Army officers or a story about their life and the valour they had shown. These may appear in the obituaries placed by family members, regiments they represented or in extraordinary circumstances like the Kargil War. As for the innumerable jawans and JCOs (Junior Commissioned Officers) who lay down their lives fighting militancy, this type of death is probably looked upon as their routine destiny and ignored. After all, thousands of Indian troops are based in Kashmir to fight insurgency and their deaths, even in hundreds over the years, is not big news.  

Being a service officer’s wife and a journalist, my heart goes out to the families of the slain soldiers and I feel silent rage over the lack of adequate and sensitive coverage of such news. The coverage is usually hackneyed and typically mentions the name of the officer, his regiment and brief details of the operation in which the officer died. The militants killed in the operation find a prominent spot.

"Colonel Neeraj was critically wounded. He was rushed to a hospital in Kupwara. He succumbed to his injuries on Tuesday night," a police officer said

``The 18-hour gun battle at Chinkipora in Sopore district of North Kashmir came to an end, as the Army gunned down the militants, who were holed up inside a house. An Army officer and two jawans were martyred in the encounter. The slain officer has been identified as Major Amit Thenge.’’

Photographs and electronic footage mostly focus on politicians receiving the bodies or grief-stricken families of the deceased. But what about the life and times of the courageous, dynamic and young officer inside the coffin? What about the anguished family and the dreams and aspirations that he leaves behind?

There are rare instances when the electronic media has afforded some time to the dead soldier. In one report the NDTV said, ``The parents of Captain Devinder Singh Jass are proud of the 26-year-old Army officer who was killed in a fierce encounter with Lashkar terrorists in Sopore on Tuesday. Just two days before he died, he had shot down five militants in Sopore. Captain Singh chose to enlist in the Army in December 2007, instead of a cushy career in the corporate world.’’

Kargil was seen as a war, not an operation against insurgents, and hence the nation’s media was galvanised into action. The heroism of Capt Saurabh Kalia, Captain Vikram Batra and Capt Anuj Nayyar were on everyone’s lips. News papers gave front page space and there were features in magazines. But what about the hundreds of others who are killed every year and are treated with anonymity?

Defence correspondents rarely focus on the human side of the forces and concentrate on stories related to procurement, training and operations. What about positive, real stories of undying valour and dedication? The problem is not a lack of space or time but an attitude among readers and viewers, as well as media controllers that soldiers are born to die.

In fact during the incessant coverage of the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks an acquaintance wanted to know why such a big deal was being made about the valour and sacrifice of NSG Army commandos. "It’s their job. They have entered the profession knowing that they may get killed one day." But I am glad that the insightful media coverage on Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan, the gallant Indian Army officer who was at the forefront of NSG operations at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai, brought to the fore the life of a soldier who died fighting for his country.

It’s not easy to do balanced and sensitive follow-up stories, especially after a death, but then who said good journalism was easy? One feels both disturbed and angry that a serious attempt at capturing the human side of such losses is sorely missing. And how many stories do we see after the death of say, a politician? There are gushing obituaries, quotes from friends, colleagues and family members.

Army spokespersons and PR personnel are understandably tight-lipped when speaking of casualties and prefer to toe the official line. This too needs to change and the Army PR machinery needs to draw the media’s attention to the human side of its personnel.

For instance does the media and its audience know that the Army officer in J&K wakes up at 4 in the morning to prepare for something as routine as a Road Opening Party (ROP) duty? That he has to boil snow and melt it to use the hot water to defreeze the toilet? That he has to first melt the snow before he can use the water to shave himself and be ready by 5? In the meanwhile his juniors have woken up even earlier and are waiting for him.

General V. P. Malik had remarked quite appropriately during a special edition of a news programme telecast on CNN-IBN (India's martyrs: Killed in war, lost in memory): "God and soldier are remembered in times of crisis. As soon as that is over, God is forgotten and soldier slighted. If you don’t remember the bravest of the brave, obviously we’d think the soldier is being forgotten."

(Elisa Patnaik is a freelance writer and a development communications professional)