AT THE POINT OF A GUN

AT THE POINT OF A GUN

We often see in films the scene of someone holding another at a gun point. I do not know how many must have experienced in their life the chill of being really at a gun point. Well, I had faced such a situation once.

My memories are mostly of the first part of my career when I had been in the military. It could be because of the influence and enjoyment of the myriad experiences I gained in sharing life with different people from different places, with different culture, and different languages. It taught me at times to expect the most unexpected nature of behaviour too. I am beginning to narrate one such incident.

Bangalore was a peaceful area in those days. There were no terrorist threats. Life in the military camps was peaceful. There was no  tight security for entering the domestic area of the camp. There was no fear of security even in the sensitive technical areas. I happened to be in Bangalore recently and had visited the camp area where I had spent a few years, long ago. The whole camp area was found to be tightly isolated with high double crossed wire fencing running around it. I could see a number of guards keeping watch holding the most modern guns in their hands. Security is tight now even for the domestic areas. It was not so during my time.

I worked in a military base in Bangalore during those calm days. I was posted for duty in a transmitter station to work in shifts. Being a trained technician, my job was only to ensure that the transmitters always functioned well. I was to attend and set things right if any malfunction occurred in any transmitter during my duty time. The transmitter building was two kilometers away from my quarter where I stayed. There was a security wall around the transmitter building. One guard in military uniform with a .303 rifle and with an ammunition of ten rounds always remained on duty at the entrance gate. The duty of the guards was in three shifts. There were three of them only and changed duty as per their shifts.  I was working in a four shift system, whereby I was required to be on the night shift once in every four days. I was quite familiar with all the guards as I would be meeting one or the other every time I went for the duty. The guards were supposed to check my identity or of any person seeking entrance to the building and they were to allow only the persons required to be on duty. Strictly speaking, they should ask for the identity card and confirm the identity even if the person wore uniform. Apart from that, they could ask for the pass word to the person seeking entrance. Pass word gets changed each day and would be available only with the Orderly Officer of the day.

An Orderly Officer would be appointed for each day to have a general control of the camp during non-working hours. It was for him to ensure that every thing was running in order. The Orderly Officer of the day would only decide the pass word for the day. Persons on duty should obtain the pass word from the day’s appointed Orderly Officer. For security reasons, the Orderly Officer would not communicate the pass word over phone and would only pass it personally to those who required it, after confirming their identity and their nature of duty. His office would be at the Headquarters, which was about three kilometers from my quarter and in a different direction from that for the transmitter building.

Since all the guards were personally well known to me, there was no need for me to obtain the pass word. It was a tedious job to pedal three kilometers to the Headquarters to obtain the password and then pedal again three kilometers, which was the distance from the Headquarters to the transmitter building. No one at duty in the transmitter building ever bothered to obtain the pass words as all of us were quite familiar with the guards. There was no need for any pass word when people are familiar and known to each other. There could be no better identity than the familiarity.

The guards knew our time of changing the shifts. The guard on duty would open the gates from a distance itself if he saw me coming for the duty. I would not stop my cycle, but just pass on. The guard on duty would wish me while I passed and I would return the wish with a smile and waving of my hand. That was the usual practice. But it went unusual one day.

I was going for the night shift duty.  I found the gates closed and the guard was standing in front of it. He was not opening the gates. From a distance, I thought that he might be a new person. But, as I neared, I could see that it was one of the three guards I always see there. I wondered why he was not opening the gate. I stopped my cycle on a side and got down from it.

Before I could enquire any thing he threw the question to me from a ten feet distance itself, “what is the pass word?”

I was totally bewildered. The fellow knew me well. Then why did he put this question? Was he trying to be fully official on this day?

Somehow I had to get in. So, I said, “I have the identity card with me.” Holding my identity card in my hand, I began to move a little forward.

“Halt there”, he shouted at the top of his voice. That stopped me then and there. He was not interested to see my identity card.

The fellow took out the cartridges from his pocket and loaded his rifle. This man had turned out to be dangerous, I thought. After loading it, he put the cock forward to be ready to fire the first round and aimed the muzzle of his rifle directly to my chest. Then he pushed the safety catch forward. I was watching those movements and I was astonished to see that he really meant business. I knew about the rifle well. I was trained on it. One should always keep the safety catch back, unless he was in a very precarious situation and would need to open fire immediately. Putting the safety catch forward was the last thing to do before triggering.

“I will fire, if you put a step forward”, he warned me in clear terms. The index finger would automatically move on to the trigger, once you hold the rifle in that position. I knew that from my own practice with the rifle. I imagined that his finger must be on the trigger now.  Knowingly or unknowingly, a little slip of the finger was enough for the gun to fire. I knew that very well. I looked at him. He was breathing heavily and returned a blank look back. The transmitter building was in a secluded place and no one else was there nearby. The building lay at about 20 yards from the entrance gate.

I began sweating. I looked at his face again as if to beg for mercy. It was hard and fierce. The chill of fear began running down my spine.

He repeated the question, “What is the pass word?”

In shivering words I said, “I do not know”.

I was wondering what would be his follow up action. Would he fire? No one in his right sense would do that. But this man looked out of sense. Any thing could happen.

“Then go back. I wouldn’t permit you in”, he growled.

Was that all? What came like a mountain went off like a rat. I felt relieved. He had allowed me to go back. I was afraid that he would straight away fire. That did not happen. That much courage he didn’t have, I realized.

Withdrawing from him, I pedalled all the way to the Headquarters, obtained the pass word and returned again. He saw me coming and this time opened the gates. I got down from the cycle and went to him. He did not ask me for the pass word now.  Even without his asking, I told him the pass word. He had become a little sober  by the time I returned.

 “You should be perfect when you come for duty, sir. You should have known the pass word and come”, he said sarcastically and cut a dirty laugh.

He was throwing the smell of cheap liquor while laughing. I could gather that he was heavily drunk. That explained his strange behaviour.

“Yes, ofcourse. But one should be perfect himself before checking on the perfection of others”, I replied.

After reaching my seat, I called up the military police. I informed them that the guard on duty was heavily drunk and was trying to shoot at people who came to him. I told them to be careful when they come, as his rifle was in loaded condition. That was my turn for him.

Within thirty minutes, a police jeep arrived with another guard and a few policemen. The drunken guard was disarmed and whisked away. I never saw him at the guard post again. Nevertheless, I took the lesson from him. I made it a point to obtain the password always, before I went for duty.

-------