The First Guard Duty..... metamorphosis of a man to soldier.

It was 2004. A young air warrior, I had just been posted to Suratgarh — that vast, windswept expanse of sand and silence in Rajasthan. Between Suratgarh and Anoopgarh, life was raw, real, and rigged with lessons. That night, I was detailed for guard duty with my trusted Sten Machine Carbine (MC). I had heard stories, murmurs , about patrolling, about how to stand tall before the Duty Officer or the O Officer. But as the desert sun dipped and the chill crept in, so did nervousness. A strange, tingling anxiety ran down my spine.

Desert nights are hauntingly quiet. The horizon fades into nothing but undulating dunes. You don’t see the end, but you feel the weight of everything around you. Especially the responsibility. I kept rehearsing the drills taught in training in my head, hoping I wouldn't fumble. My job was to guard the territory — and the thought of the Gypsy halting in front of me for inspection was killing me with anticipation.

The duty rounds were structured — two-hour shifts. My first taste of validation came when the police patrol stamped my checkbook “Alert.” I felt a little more like a soldier that night.

My most defining moment came around 2:30 a.m.

Uniform crisp, boots laced, I had rehearsed my drill a dozen times. But in doing so, I had forgotten the core of my duty — to observe, to protect, to be aware. I took position at a vantage point, frozen in place, hoping to impress. The vehicle arrived. The officer stepped out.

“Tham... pehchaan ke liye aage badh!” he barked.

He responded mechanically, expecting further orders and being an experienced campaigner he smelled that anxiety in me .

Instead, he looked at me, not with scorn, but with something deeper.

“Good work, buddy. But remember this — move around the area. Don’t just stand guard in one place.”

That sentence pierced through the ceremonial layers and touched the soldier in me. That was my first real lesson in soldiering:

Your job is to safeguard your territory, not just your position.

The hours that followed were different. I didn’t walk. I patrolled. I didn’t glance. I scanned. I wasn’t just on duty — I was the duty.

That night I wasn’t just a uniform in the dark. I was a sentinel of sovereignty. With my chest out and belly in, I moved as if the enemy was everywhere, and I wasn’t going to let an inch of my motherland slip by unnoticed.

Today, as a veteran, I watch my country grapple with enemies — both across borders and within. I can't sleep easy. My heart, once stationed in the sands with a Sten MC, is still posted — watching, waiting, ready.

To every budding soldier reading this: may you find your own defining moment. Let your uniform never be just attire. Let your duty never be just a shift. Be the wall. Be the watcher. And above all, be the voice that echoes one truth loud and clear:

We stand, so the nation sleeps in peace.

Jai Hind.