Jeeps in a variety of situations

Living in Kashmir 1979-80: A Year of People, Places and Memories

Jeeps

If there was one vehicle that defined life among the UN observers in those mountain postings, it was the jeep: that tireless, open-sided workhorse that seemed equally at home on a paved road as it did clinging to the edge of a precipice. In 1979, these sturdy machines carried my husband and his colleagues across terrain that would have defeated lesser vehicles and, on occasion, nearly defeated them too.

The drivers on both sides of the line were soldiers stationed in the high mountains.They brought to their work every shade of temperament imaginable, from the carefully measured caution of the prudent to the breathtaking confidence of those who appeared entirely unbothered by a sheer drop to one side.

1979 Skardu field station

Here’s a typical UN jeep in 1979 after arriving at a field station. Open sides, rugged going. This one has made it successfully over rough roads and steep climbs. Rest for the driver and relief for the observer.

Not every encounter on those narrow mountain roads passed without incident. My husband recalls with particular clarity the day two jeeps met head-on along a stretch of road where passing was simply impossible. There was nowhere to go, no room to manoeuvre, and the frustration of one driver spilled over into action. He climbed out and thumped the bonnet of the UN vehicle with his fist, as though the jeep itself were to blame. In the end, of course, someone had to reverse until the road widened enough to allow both vehicles through.  Frustration for both drivers.

1979 A jeep impasse

The Deosai Plateau

High on the Deosai Plateau in Baltistan, one of the most remote and elevated plateaux in the world, the jeeps faced a different kind of test. A photograph from the summer of 1979 shows a UN jeep picking its way across a small bridge in that vast, wind-swept landscape, the sky enormous and blue above the tawny plain.

On the return journey, my husband recalls, the driver took one look at the rickety bridge they had crossed earlier and decided the river itself was the safer option. He drove straight through the water. My husband, exercising what I have always considered excellent judgement, chose to walk across the bridge.

1979 bridge on the Deosai Plateau

Jeep Cherokees

For longer official journeys between Srinagar and Rawalpindi, the larger Jeep Cherokees were brought into service. They were stationed at Headquarters for the use of administrative staff. Solid and imposing, they seemed well suited to the distances involved, though, as we discovered, no vehicle is entirely proof against a Himalayan winter. 

We were travelling in one of these vehicles in winter when it slid to a halt in the snow. The more the driver spun the wheels the deeper the vehicle dug into the snow. My husband climbed out into the cold to push. After considerable effort, the vehicle lurched forward showering him in snow. The driver, perhaps caught up in the relief of the forward motion, simply kept going. From the back seat I called out as urgently as I could manage “Bas, bas, Sahib.” It took a while for the driver to realise he had left my husband behind on that cold snowy road. He eventually paused and waited while my husband caught up on foot and climbed wearily into the vehicle. 

On another occasion with my mother-in-law aboard, we were halted by a very large crowd coming towards us. While we trembled, the driver seemed relatively unperturbed. Indeed, the crowd flowed by either side with the force of the surge rocking the vehicle as they passed. It was a local demonstration underway. We continued our journey relieved to get away.

This last picture shows a summer scene high in the mountains, perhaps a rest break on a long journey. It is easier in summer light to remember the mountain scenery.

Jeep Cherokees in summer, high in the mountains

This post first appeared on earlieryears.blogspot.com by CRGalvin