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serious difficulty in reaching the Dome. Besides,we could leisurely carry out the installationoperation. Absolute secrecy was maintained forthe Nanda Kot expedition also. Besides me, otherIndian members of the expedition to Nanda Kotwere Sonam Wangyal, H.C.S. Rawat and G.S.Bhangu. The American team consisted of two newclimbers, Barry Prather and James Barry Corbet,both of the 1963 American Everest team. TomFrost, Rob Shaller and Sam Curry of the NandaDevi attempt returned to join the team.This expedition was extremely successful.Despite several obstacles, we were able to reachthe Dome according to our plans and installedthe entire equipment on the summit. We gotsignals from Delhi that the tracking equipmentwas functioning well. There were jubilations inWashington and Delhi. Shri B.N. Mullick andShri A.K. Dave, who had taken over from ShriR.N. Kao as Director, ARC, flew to Base Camp topersonally congratulate us. The CIA now realisedthat had they accepted my original advice ofselecting Nanda Kot, the catastrophe on NandaDevi would not have taken place.After a few months, the equipment at Nanda KotDome stopped functioning. I flew over NandaKot to explore the mystery. When my plane wasexactly over the summit, an air pocket suddenlybrought my plane down about a thousand feet.I thought it was crashing. Thank God, there wasno collision. On return, the photos showed noequipment on the dome. I immediately mountedanother expedition to Nanda Kot. On reaching theDome, we saw a white out. After removing a fewlayers of snow, we sighted the sensor equipmentwhich then started functioning.CIA RequestDuring the summer of 1968, on the request ofCIA, a small team under Rawat was sent to NandaKot to retrieve the sensor equipment which hadstopped functioning once again. When the teamreached the Dome, as earlier, there was no signof the equipment. They dug a few feet, and whatthey saw was a real fantasy. There was a perfectsemi-spherical cave formed by the hot generatorat the centre. The continuous heat emanating fromthe generator had melted the snow up to eight feetin all directions. ‘Guru Rim boche’ had stood inthe Centre as a ‘deity!’A few days later, the nuclear-powered generatorwas placed in a special plane at Charbatia. Beforethe plane took off, Shri Mullick touched the hotgenerator and felt relieved. This top-secret missionwas strictly kept under wraps. However, on 12thApril, 1978, the mission suddenly explodedin America, rocking the world media and theIndian Parliament. Prime Minister Morarji Desaiaddressed the Parliament on 17th April, 1978. Iwas summoned from Sydney where I was postedas Air India’s Manager. On reaching Delhi, Idictated the full account from my memory fortwo days to Shri V. Shankar, Principal Secretaryto the Prime Minister. This was carefully recorded.With full world exposure, I was advised by thePM’s office to certainly include this mission in myautobiography, as otherwise distorted versions asof 12th April, 1978 will continue. Finally in 2002,in consultation with Shri R.N. Kao and Shri A.K.Dave, I gave this story a full-book treatment. KenConboy, who was already going ahead with thebook and whom I had ignored for two years, wasmy co-author.With the completion of our mission, I was nowdeputed to Chakrata for an important SurvivalCourse by a British expert. On the morning of 22ndApril, 1968, when I was in the midst of the Course,a Mi-4 circled over Chakrata and landed on theparade ground. I figured that it must be carryinga dignitary from New Delhi and did not give it asecond thought. To my surprise, however, thecamp administrator called me out of the class andsaid that the chopper had come to rush me to thecapital. Fearing a family emergency, I demanded toknow the reason. The chopper crew said that theyhad come on the orders of Shri Mullick. SonamGyatso was critically ill at the military hospital andhad expressed a desire to see me.Landing in New Delhi, I headed straight for thehospital. Ironically, Shri Mullick was occupying aroom in another hospital in New Delhi with someailment. Entering Sonam’s ward, I looked at myfriend and began to sob. Barely alive, Sonam’srobust frame looked frail and shrunken. His face,normally burned a rich chocolate from the strongultraviolet rays at high altitude, was waxy andlifeless, the color drained from his lips. His eyeswere pinched tight, and his chest showed littlesigns of breath.Next to the bed was Sonam’s wife. The beautifuldaughter of a prosperous nobleman from westernSikkim, she had managed to retain every ounce ofdignity despite her inner pain. Sonam had beenwaiting for you, she told me, but he had slipped66The Indian Police Journal, October - December, 2012, Special Issue