Heroic historical memories of Lt. Col. Sara
Heroic historical memories of Lt. Col. Sara
Lt. Colonel Sara
Chinnathurai Jeevarasa
Tamileelam: Yarlpanam District
Birth: 19.04.1962
Death: 27.07.1991
I wanted to see his face one last time. My heart felt like it would burst.
The place where the bodies of our fighters were being cleaned.
“Has Sara’s body arrived?” Many people like me stood there asking. I went inside. Our brave fighters were lying here and there. I touched each of their faces. I never saw the familiar face of Sara. But the faces of those comrades also told me many stories.
A fighter with slightly colored, curly hair, a withered face. The air bomb that took his life had deeply damaged his stomach.
When I saw him, a little fighter was sleeping. One leg was deeply cut in the thigh. A bullet had pierced his body across the body. The agony of his death was etched on that small face.
Next, a fighter lay there, his shoes still on. His uniform was in order. How did he die? I turned his face. One side of his face was atrophied.
Many fighters like this……
I had seen some of them at Sara’s training camp. Sometimes, I had seen them laughing as they got into a fast-moving vehicle. Those were the comrades. Today like this.
Knowing these deaths well, they touched their guns. They were aware of their deaths even when they were going out to the front lines, on the road, and when they were fighting against the enemy.
But these young men stood firm and fought. All that was in their hearts was the feeling of freedom. What gave them the courage to fight for freedom, even at the cost of themselves, was faith. Faith in the leader – the belief that their cause would be won. These are what turned these young men into heroes like mountains.
At one end of the place, some people were cleaning up each body. The faces of these men were sad. They wanted to arrange the bodies of the fighters who were lying in disarray and give them life with the will of their hearts.
The fighters were laid out in coffins that had already been brought out, according to their size.
Sara’s body never arrived.
I fell down a dirt road and climbed onto the beach. That small sea, unable to throw waves in anger, was struggling along this road. It was Sarah’s habit to talk while looking at this sea. He had taken me along this road a few times to his training camps.
Today, this sea, the people, the bumpy road, everyone was longing to see him one last time.
The sky was dark and gloomy. Dark clouds were moving fast somewhere. In it was a cloud that looked like Sara. His blackness, the devilish beard that accompanied him, the coolness that blew when he was socializing.
That cloud started telling me a story……
The pleasant time we lived under the hot mountains. Sara had come to our training camp from Germany. The hot environment of that training camp – combined with the rigorous training – had lightened his foreign appearance and given him a rural appearance.
Usually, only a few people in the training camps are known by everyone. They have some talent, be it acting or sports. Sara is one of those who are known by everyone, and his talent is to make mistakes. Ponnaman, the person in charge of our training camp, always keeps his eyes on Sara.
He knows very well that he will make mistakes and escape. One of the reasons for the pleasant atmosphere of that training camp was that some of us were the first to leave the camp after the training. Unable to bear that small separation, everyone cried as much as they could. Then I saw Sarah, and he said goodbye to me with troubled eyes.
After that, I saw Sarah only after the Mannar police station attack. He was carrying a “G3” rifle, which suited his tall, majestic appearance. He told us what he had done in the Mannar police station attack. He said that he had also participated in the Jaffna police station attack.
Time passed. Sara was appointed as the in-charge of the Kalviyankaadu and Tirunelveli areas. Sara was loved by all the people in that area for his activities. At that time, the Indian forces, claiming to be the “Sergeant”, stormed into our country. They spread their wings on this land. Sara stood at the forefront of the war waged by the LTTE against Indian rule and fought valiantly.
Once, while escaping from the encirclement of the Indian troops, Sara’s hand was deeply wounded. He went to Tamil Nadu for treatment. There, he was arrested by the Indian government. After spending two years in Indian prisons, Tamileelam welcomed him. Sara’s life of struggle continued. After the war with the Sri Lankan government resumed, Sara also participated in the siege of the Yarlpanam army camp. After the fort was captured, he was in charge of the LTTE’s training camp.
When the siege of the Aanayiravu military base began, Sara stood at the forefront as a commander. We launched an attack on the old military base. The attack was unsuccessful. In total, we lost 63 fighters.
Sara was injured in the leg. He stood at the hospital gate. I had gone to see him. He said that he was going to the front line as usual with a minor injury. “The losses are high. When the struggle grows, the front lines also become larger – the losses will be high. This cannot be avoided,” he said, getting into a vehicle that had arrived at that time and going to the battlefield.
The fighters who had been landed on the beach to break the siege of Aanayiravu started advancing, raining fire. The planes that swam in the sky day and night dropped bombs inch by inch. The bombs were coming from the sea towards the land in waves. The Sri Lankan state machinery was advancing with all its might. In this situation, the LTTE planned an attack on the checkpoint and the army camp for the second time. Our people were going to advance with the help of armored vehicles. When the attack began, I stood where our armored vehicle was parked and spread out.
Sara came and stroked my cheeks. “Machan, don’t you have a good picture of me?” he asked. “Why?” I asked without understanding. “I’ll take the dozer,” he said. The troubled eyes that had been troubled when we left the training camp were troubled again today. But this unit… I turned away to blink.
Sara was telling another comrade. “If my body comes back intact, put on this uniform, wear this national flag.” “Sarah knows very well that the chances of survival in this fight are very few.
This land has given birth to great men who go to the front knowing their death. The attack began, the LTTE advanced as if they had built fortifications with gunpowder. Sara’s vehicle also advanced. An artillery shell also hit the vehicle and exploded. Sara, Kugathas, who was accompanying him…., the attack continued. In the morning, our men retreated without success.
It was impossible to recover Sara’s body. Two days later, a comrade who came from the front said, “In front of our positions, next to the fence of the army camp, the vehicle in which Sara’s body was carried is standing. Crows are climbing and descending inside.” Sara, the crows… I can’t bear the pain. I look out the window in front of me. The fort is visible. It is crumbling – in front of that symbol of occupation, like this. The tools we used to scale the moat, and the high fort wall lie there.
The ladder that was used to climb the wall has fallen down. The planks that were laid to scale the muddy moat lie there, unbroken. All these remind us of those harsh days full of heroism.
The second attack on the fort camp, that day, Sara also drove an armored vehicle. The vehicle that was advancing fell into a ditch and collapsed. That day’s attack was also unsuccessful. Dawn broke. The bodies of our comrades were lying cut open before our eyes. Crows were trying to stay on them and flying ……
I stand up thinking about those painful memories.
Some of our fighters were walking along the remaining walls of the ruined fort. The rifles in their hands were sowing new hopes.
A little further away, the national flag flies, throwing its arms in the air.
- Vavuniya Dinesh – Publication: (In the Field 1994)
“The Tigers’ Thirst is Thirst of Tamileelam
(Translation by Tamilpriya)
0 Comments