Subscribe To Print Edition About The Tribune Code Of Ethics Download App Advertise with us Classifieds
search-icon-img
search-icon-img
Advertisement

Siren takes old-timers on a trip down memory lane

Ravi Dhaliwal Tribune News Service Gurdaspur, March 30 When SSP Nanak Singh ordered his cops to blow a siren, akin to the one normally heard during air raids of the yore, to usher in the one-hour silence on Saturday, little...
  • fb
  • twitter
  • whatsapp
  • whatsapp
Advertisement

Ravi Dhaliwal

Tribune News Service

Gurdaspur, March 30

Advertisement

When SSP Nanak Singh ordered his cops to blow a siren, akin to the one normally heard during air raids of the yore, to usher in the one-hour silence on Saturday, little did he know that he would be taking old-timers on a passionate trip down memory lane.

At precisely 10.55 am on Saturday, a five-minute-long siren went off from Jahaz Chowk signalling the start of the drive to remember those who lost their lives in the ongoing pandemic. At 11.55 am, a second siren was heard, this time informing local residents that the hour-long silence was about to end.

Advertisement

The Covid martyrs were surely remembered. And so were the 1965 and 1971 wars against Pakistan. The hooter was enough to spark off a flood of war-driven memories in a flashback. It is pertinent to mention here that Gurdaspur district shares a long border with Pakistan.

Prof Raj Kumar Sharma, a noted historian, reminisced that in 1965 he was based in Amritsar. “The sirens would be succeeded by Pakistan Air Force (PAF) jets flying low over the city in a V-formation. With the sirens came the blackouts during which we had to switch off electric bulbs,” he said.

In 1971, Professor Sharma recalled that he was a student of Government College in Zira perilously close to the border. “I was in-charge of the NCC wing. I requested my Principal to put on hold the daily parades because the chances of enemy planes mistaking us for soldiers were high. On one occasion, a jet took a recce of our college but fortunately it spared our building. Just as we thought we had escaped the threat, the same fighter plane bombarded the FCI godown nearby virtually razing it to rubbles,” he said.

Prof Kirpal Singh Yogi (88) said once a siren was heard, it was imperative that something dangerous was going to happen. “During blackouts, clothes, curtains, cardboards and paint were used to prevent light escaping from houses. A house whose lights remained on would be ostracised the next day by livid neighbours. A siren inevitably meant an air raid would follow within minutes. The technical name for these hooters was Air Raid Precaution (APR) system sirens.

“I still remember how Englishmen would take refuge in London’s underground railway stations when a siren would go off during World War II. Initially, the British government had refused to let these underground stations be used as shelters. However, later it relented, saving hundreds of lives,” he said.

Yogi said, “Yesterday’s siren and those used in 1971 are vastly different. The one that was used yesterday was a manual contraption. The sirens used in the 1971 War were electric ones. They must be gathering dust now.”

He added that after the wail of sirens and subsequent air raids, it was a common sight to see pieces of broken furniture and limbs of dead buffaloes laying scattered in villages.

Harbans Singh of Dala village, which is barely 8 km from the wire meshing, said during the two wars with Pakistan, the last thing the villagers wanted was to hear a siren. “The sound emanating from a hooter virtually meant death. Bombs suddenly dropped out of the night. Many of the bombs had the United States markings which only added to our conviction that Pakistan was indeed supported by the US,” he remarked.

Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
tlbr_img1 Home tlbr_img2 Opinion tlbr_img3 Classifieds tlbr_img4 Videos tlbr_img5 E-Paper