A Bullet Over the Gorge: Innovation, Duty, and Brotherhood in North Sikkim

 

A Bullet Over the Gorge: Innovation, Duty, and Brotherhood in North Sikkim

By Col Guljit Singh Chadha (Retd)

A few days ago, I happened to visit the Panjab University campus in Chandigarh, a place where academia meets memories, and where time seems to walk a little slower. As I strolled through its tree-lined lanes, soaking in the familiar charm, a distinct sound caught my ear.

The unmistakable deep thump of a Royal Enfield.

A young student passed me slowly on his “Geri route,” steady and proud astride his Bullet. As he rode by, he offered a polite nod and a smile, nothing dramatic, just a moment shared between strangers.

But in that fleeting second, something inside me stirred. That sound, that image, it didn’t just echo down the university lane… it echoed back nearly three decades, to the frozen, silent stretches of North Sikkim in the mid-1990s.

It transported me to a moment when that same thump wasn’t about style or swagger, it was about survival, solidarity, and service.

Let me take you back…

Back in the mid-90s, I had the privilege of being posted in one of the most enchanting yet unforgiving regions of India, North Sikkim. As a young Major and Officer Commanding of 214 Field Workshop Company (617 EME Battalion), our unit was located at Chungthang, a serene hamlet surrounded by the towering Himalayas.


Nature here was beautiful, but also brutal. Avalanches, landslides, and tremors were everyday occurrences. But nothing quite matched the scale or the impact of the landslide at Lintha Khola (also known as Lanta Khola). This area, located about 70 km from Gangtok, lies in a stretch between Mangan and Manul, and is a known choke point on the North Sikkim Highway (NSH),the vital artery that keeps both civilian and military lifelines flowing.

It was in this chaos that my Brigade Commander, Brigadier Charnjit Singh, summoned me. The 112 Mountain Brigade had troops stranded beyond the slide, road access had vanished, and time was ticking. He said, “Guljit, I need a solution. We can’t wait for the JCBs to clear the road seeing the enormity of the landslide it would take weeks before they could restore a motorable track.”

As a qualified Mechanical Engineer, this challenge struck a different chord in me. It wasn’t just about recovery,it was about innovation under fire.

A Ropeway from a Royal Enfield

During one of our internal innovation displays months prior, our team had crafted a unique contraption,a 350cc Royal Enfield Bullet retrofitted into a makeshift ropeway system. We had removed its rear wheel and wrapped stainless steel wire rope around the drum, harnessing the engine’s torque to drive the rope. At the time, it was just an experiment, a spark of possibility.

Now, it was our best shot.

Our recovery mechanics and vehicle technicians got to work immediately. We camped near the landslide site, set up pulleys across the gorge, and brought our improvised ropeway to life. The Bullet’s engine powered the transport of containers, rations, and critical supplies across the void, where no truck, mule, or man could tread.


This setup allowed for continued induction and de-induction of troops, ensuring the operational readiness of 112 Mtn Bde remained intact despite the calamity.


What made this operation truly special, however, was its extension beyond the military. As a gesture of brotherhood, we allowed local civilians to use the ropeway as well. In a region where supply chains had come to a halt, this small act of support turned a military innovation into a shared lifeline.


More Than a Medal

In 1999, I was awarded the Chief of Army Staff (COAS) Commendation Card. The citation read:

“Awarded for distinguished services as Officer Commanding 214 Field Workshop in a high-altitude area, where a ropeway was fabricated with limited resources to assist the de-induction of Infantry troops of 112 Mountain Brigade held up due to a landslide.”

But medals are just metal. What I hold closest is the grit of my men, the camaraderie forged in cold wind and tougher days, and the pride of engineering not just machines but hope.


Final Reflections

Whenever I hear the thump of a Bullet even today, it reminds me not of the open road, but of a time it became a lifeline over a gorge. It reminds me of the fearless souls in uniform who believed that no challenge was insurmountable and proved it with grease-stained hands and unwavering hearts.
To most, the Bullet is just a motorcycle.
 To us, it became a bridge over chaos, a symbol of Indian Army ingenuity, and a testament to the power of teamwork.

Jai Hind !

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