In the summer of 1999, as the Kargil War began high in the Himalayas, much of the attention focused on the dramatic battles for peaks like Tololing, Tiger Hill, and Point 4875. These names became symbols of courage and sacrifice, etched into the national memory. But alongside those fierce mountaintop clashes, another critical fight was taking place. This fight was beyond the bunkers or on the ridgelines, along the narrow, winding artery that kept the Indian war effort alive: National Highway 1A.
This highway, a simple road, on the surface connected Srinagar to Leh via Drass and Kargil. Beneath it, NH 1A was the logistical spine of the Indian Army’s presence in Ladakh and Siachen. Without it, troops couldn’t be reinforced, ammunition couldn’t be delivered, and the entire northern frontier risked being cut off. That is precisely what Pakistani planners aimed for when they occupied key heights overlooking the route. By bringing the highway within range of their guns, they hoped to isolate Ladakh and force India into a strategic retreat from Siachen.
What followed was a relentless effort by Indian Army engineers, artillerymen, and road workers to keep the lifeline open under constant enemy fire. Shells cratered the asphalt, convoys were attacked in daylight, and landslides triggered by artillery often wiped out entire sections of the road. Yet, despite all this, the route never closed. Day and night, teams worked to repair damaged stretches, reinforce vulnerable points, and push through supplies. This was usually happening at great personal risk. It was an unglamorous role. Far from the “action” of war cries and single-handedly destroying multiple enemies. And yet, it was a vital front in the war and one that may well have prevented a far more costly outcome.
A Chokepoint Under Siege
From the very beginning of the Pakistani intrusion, Indian intelligence understood that the occupation of high-altitude posts overlooking NH-1A was a strategic move. These positions gave Pakistan the ability to monitor and target Indian supply convoys with precision. The stretch between Zoji La and Drass was especially vulnerable, lying within clear view and range of enemy artillery and machine guns.
The highway became a shooting gallery. Convoys carrying fuel, food, and ammunition were routinely shelled, forcing many drivers to move only at night or wait for Indian artillery to suppress enemy positions before they could advance. The road surface itself became scarred with craters, some wide enough to halt heavy vehicles. Several bridges were damaged or destroyed entirely, including critical spans across mountain streams and narrow gorges. If these could not be repaired swiftly, entire columns would be stranded.
Engineers Who Fought Without Guns
Enter the Corps of Engineers and the Border Roads Organisation. These teams were responsible not just for repairing roads and bridges but also for making sure that alternative routes were carved out wherever possible. They worked around the clock, often in silence to avoid drawing enemy fire, filling shell craters, clearing debris, and laying temporary structures where bridges had been blown out.
Their work was perilous. Many operated without the protection of infantry cover, and several were killed or injured in the process. But the consequences of failure were unthinkable. Each hour of delay meant frontline troops were undersupplied, which could turn the tide of battle at the peaks.
At one point, when the road near Drass was repeatedly targeted, engineers began building a parallel track through a narrow mountain path. This alternate route, constructed under enemy observation, provided a limited but crucial bypass that kept essential supplies flowing when the main road became impassable.
The Artillery Shield
Keeping the road usable wasn’t just about physical repairs. Artillery units of the Indian Army played a crucial role in shielding the engineers and convoys from Pakistani fire. Using Bofors guns and 105 mm field guns, Indian artillerymen created temporary windows of silence by hammering enemy positions that overlooked the highway.
These bombardments had to be precise and carefully timed. A miscalculated shell could hit the road itself or Indian convoys. But the gunners proved remarkably accurate. In one notable instance, a Pakistani observation post had been directing artillery fire onto NH-1A. It was destroyed after a concentrated barrage from Indian field guns. That brief silence gave engineers a chance to patch up a critical section of the road. It also allowed a stalled convoy carrying fuel drums to push forward.
Convoy Discipline and Driver Courage
The drivers of the military and civil transport vehicles deserve special mention. Many of them were civilians working with the Army Supply Corps. Faced with the constant threat of artillery and sniper fire, they continued to ferry loads across the danger zone. Their courage and discipline under fire helped maintain the flow of vital materials to the front.
Convoy movements were often timed with artillery strikes. A planned bombardment would begin, and enemy guns would fall silent or shift focus. And eventually, a convoy would move swiftly through the most dangerous stretch. When this timing failed or new enemy positions opened fire, convoys had to reverse course or halt in open terrain. This exposed them further.
Weather, Terrain, and the Edge of Failure
Beyond enemy fire, the weather and terrain added their own challenges. The region saw sporadic snow even in early summer, and melting ice caused landslides that buried parts of the road. In some cases, engineers worked knee-deep in freezing water to restore culverts or prevent washouts. Oxygen levels were low, altitude sickness was common, and mechanical failures increased as engines struggled in the thin air.
At more than one moment during the conflict, the margin between success and failure was razor-thin. If NH-1A had been closed for even two to three consecutive days during the peak of the fighting, some forward units would have run out of essentials. The risk of being overrun in such isolated conditions was very real.
A Silent Strategic Victory
The battle for NH-1A never made it to the evening news the way mountain assaults did. But in military circles, it is remembered as a silent strategic victory. India’s ability to sustain its operations across such unforgiving terrain and under such direct threat was made possible only by the tireless work of those who kept the road alive.
In war, not every hero carries a rifle. Some carry spades, drive trucks, fire coordinates, or fill potholes. During the Kargil War, they carried the weight of the entire campaign on their shoulders.
