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by Dhiraj Fernando

Of all fields of human endeavour, war seems to harbour more than its comparative equivalents in providing stories of human achievement, facts and figures, tales of kindness and heinousness and strange coincidence that seem to defy logic in all their bizarre details.

World War II brought about many stories of human adversity that left the world shocked as to the level of depravity that man can suffer upon his fellowmen. If a pre- World War II writer were to have published in all its mind numbing detail, the horror the Nazi regime were to endure upon the hapless millions of Jews and other nationalities in their systematic campaign of genocide, the world would simply have not believed him.

The sheer extent of what was being put forth as inherent in human nature would have been too much for any right-thinking person to believe that it could really take place.

In fact, three and a half years into the war, when the British Home Office received reports and photographs of the Concentration Camps in Poland and figures of the numbers of inmates being systematically gassed on a daily basis, they were officially dismissed. Initially at least, due to the sheer absurdity of such a large scale operation being run in the heart of occupied Europe.

Incredulity, the lack of precedents, inherent though naive faith in human motives and values prevented the Allied leadership from accepting what was an excruciatingly painful fact, literally.

Many a healing year has passed between that great war, where many hundreds of thousands of Allied and Eastern Front Soviet soldiers sacrificed themselves to prevent the tyrannical spread of Nazism through Europe, and subsequently the world. We all owe those men our lives and present-day lifestyles, though few among present-day generations are enlightened enough to appreciate this fact.

In our own protracted Guerilla style ‘war’ there have been many instances of amazing feats of bravery and patriotic self-sacrifice, many of which stretch peoples imagination when ensconed in the secure environment of their homes, far from the front- lines that they observe via the safety of TV, with pedantic suggestions and personal perspectives uttered as their contribution to the campaign.

Among the less fortunate members of our society who willingly go forth to confront a wily and treacherous enemy in the North-Eastern front, was a recruit, who for the sake of anonymity shall henceforth be referred to as, ‘Pvt.Sanath’. Sanath was a typical Southern youth hailing from ... and fresh out of school he found himself contemplating life in the city, where an occupation would have meant rather inadequate wage to help his low income bracket family.

He was a proud, physically strong youth, brimming with patriotic fervour and quite aware of the more practical realities of earning an adequate income for his family.

Deciding to enter the Army (I refuse to use the cliche of killing two birds with one stone) and thus provide adequately for his folks back home and thereby quench his desire to meet the enemy face to face, Sanath soon found himself posted on the front-lines where the rates of dissertation were high and conditions bearable at best.

Here’s one more irresistible cliche for you; They say that “War in 98 percent boredom and then 2 percent of sheer explosive mayhem”. Sanath had no idea of the thoughts of the famous General who penned that quotation when, on routine patrol in the Wanni in broaddaylight, his unit came under multi directional fire with heavy machine guns, with the odd crack of a sniper’s rifle adding to the confusion. Sanath and his men were pinned down, hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned.

Flat on their stomachs, Sanath and his comrades, on the order of his commanding officer, offered what feeble resistance they could to a well entrenched invisible enemy.

Three of his comrades were already dead and a fourth had received multiple sniper shots and was screaming in heartrending agony.

Unable to withstand the overwhelming enemy pressure the C.O. signalled his men to pull out while radioing the Command Post of his situation and begging for reinforcements.

The enemy, well versed with the terrain, had encircled them on three sides. There was only one way out if they were to stay alive and fight another day rather than charge the terrorists which would have been a wasteful and foolhardy thing to do.

Scared, confused and moving backwards constantly, Sanath could not see his comrades any more. Making a bold move he got up onto one knee and fired continuously in the general direction of the opposing force, hoping to give some cover to his retreating buddies.

He fired continuously till there was but one 36 round clip in his belt. Hopelessly inadequate in a confrontation of this sort. Flat on his belly once more he decides to save the clip and in a bold move cut a mad ‘do or die’ zig zag path through the thorn infested scrub, away from the terrorists.

He ran, for what felt like hours. His canteen was empty and he had lost all sense of direction in the monotony of the landscape. His primary fear was running in a circle, which would have had disastrous results.

Lacking a compass and having no idea where his comrades were he kept going till, suddenly, he felt himself raised, physically and thrown 10 meters by a blast that took him to the depths of darkness.

“It is with deep regret that the Sri Lanka Army informs the next of kin that Pvt. Sanath N. Silva, of the 3rd Gemunu Infantry Division was killed in the line of duty while engaging in enemy action on the ...... front.” The Army Medical Officer examining the body had suggested that his remains be flown to his hometown of......., in a sealed coffin, due to the extensive nature of his injuries.

The bereaved family members thereafter received the coffin draped in a National Flag which was kept in the hall of the house as per local tradition. There were the usual grieving host of relatives, and many of Sanath’s colleagues previous operations. The platoon members that Sanath reconnoitred with on that fateful day were not around, obviously recuperating or dead. Details as to the operation from Senior Amry Personnel who accompanied the coffin to the house, were sketchy in the least.

But, what could, if at all, would any amount of gory details as to the death of their beloved son achieve now, pointed out the sad, drawn face of the father.

Sanath’s girlfriend whom he had broken off with a week before his departure, had, however, promised her to return home safely although their love affair was on the wane.

Now, upon seeing the coffin, she cried inconsolably, perhaps feeling a tinge of regret and blame for letting her hero leave in a bad state of mind.

She hugged the coffin and had to be focibly restrained when it was time to proceed to the cemetery where, according to custom, it would be cremated. The entire proceedings were being videotaped, on a request made by Sanath’s father to a friend.

About a week later to the day, in the jungles of the North, a young soldier is informed that his papers are in order and that he was in satisfactory condition to travel for his sabbatical back home. Intensely relived at the news, the young man leapt out of the Army Medical Corr. bed and gathered his few belongings to see the family he’d last seen over six months ago. Since then few letters had passed between him and home, the last one being 4 months back, due to the understandable difficulties of sending and receiving mail on the front lines. He joyously made the 12 hr. journey home in eager anticipation.

He had been advised to take it easy, as the concussion from the land mine blast which was triggered by a wounded fellow soldier lying in the tall grass unseen by him had caused a limited loss of memory, and partial loss of hearing in one ear.

Walking up his road in his hometown........ “But, I am not that skaken up, I still remember well enough, and feel o.k., but still”! he thought to himself, “surely this was the right house, the home and street in which he had grown up in”. And yet there were white flags fluttering around it, signifying a death in the family.

Fearing the worst for his father or his ailing mother, he rushed into the house, shouting Amme? Thathe? (Mother?, Father?) and then he spotted it. A large freshly garlanded portrait of himself with a joss stick lit beneath it.

Good Lord! “I’ am dead,” he said to himself, Could this be some cruel joke?”, or was it the medication playing tricks on my mind”?

He then heard frantic shouts of “Putha!, Putha! coming from the front of the house where his mother and father stood looking incredulously at him. Finally, they rushed and embraced.

The truth of the matter was subsequently cleared up by the Army Board of Investigation which concluded that the soldier who inadvertently triggered the mine was also named Sanath Silva, but with an R. in -between. While Sanath P. Silva had merely received the blast of the impact, with both ‘dog tags’ inexplicably missing , and other quite understandable difficulties at the scene of the blast contributing, the two names had got mixed up, and a sealed coffin delivered to the wrong parents.

The crux of the matter was that Sanath. P. Silva, who had broken off with his girlfriend prior to leaving for the Front, witnessed the dramatic funeral, his ‘own’ funeral, on videotape and saw the devotion of his ex-girlfriend in the manner in which she grieved for him, and promptly fell in love again.

They spent his last weeks of leave together hardly leaving each other’s side, till once more it was time to return to fighting the war. It was a tearful separation as they had planned to get married as soon as the Army would give him more leave.

Two weeks late: It is with profound regret that the 3rd Gemunu Regiment of the Sri Lanka Army informs the next of kin that Pvt. Sanath P. Silva died in the course of engaging the enemy at............... etc. etc.

This time it was the real Sanath Silva.

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