Dragon Fire

China — Bhutan border

Choedrak and his fighters sat against the mud-brick wall, silently savouring the moment of success. This was one of the greatest moments of the Tibetan struggle. This was why so many of his men from the SFF had died. Togden was recovering with a mug of yak tea and the guards were cranking up the radio to try to get a helicopter in from the capital, Thimpu. Around the hut there was the hum of conversation and the smell of a wood fire. For the final few kilometres, there had been firing behind them, single shots as the Chinese tried to start an avalanche in the Monla Karchung pass. Two SFF men, rotting with frostbite, had volunteered to stay behind to stop them.

Choedrak only had five men left. It took four to carry Togden’s stretcher, and they stumbled along the valley of the Bumtang River until they spotted a spiral of smoke. When he explained who they were and who they had with them, the Bhutanese guards embraced them with admiration and brought them into their hut. Word spread around the communities and villagers crammed in to look at the man who was being hailed as one of the great Buddhist leaders of Tibet.

Choedrak dozed and lost track of time and when he heard the steady thud of rotor blades he thought it was the Bhutanese helicopter come to pick them up. He pushed himself up, getting his balance against the wall, and gave an order to prepare the stretcher. Then a machine gun opened up. The bullets ripped through the hut as if it were paper.