Ranikhet

Ranikhet: A military station in Almora district.

A story of my grandad, Major Hovell, from his time stationed in India.

We left the mess a while after the sun had set, our stomachs full of good food and gin and tonic. The mess was at the top of a hill, and the officers’ quarters at the bottom. With the harder, uphill cycle already completed on the other side of dinner, we were set for a fast-paced free cycle back down and I stretched my fingers out in anticipation. We grabbed our bikes and started pedalling down the road. I took the lead, the night air rushing against my face as I let the bike freewheel beneath me, relying solely on the incline to drive me forward. The road down the hill was unlit and guarded closely by trees, but the route was easy to follow even in the black of night. I kept my grip tight on the handlebars as my wheels turned furiously, spitting up detritus from the barely visible path beneath me. The hiss of the air and the soft crunching of my tyres were the only sounds I could hear.  

Thwack! I heard the sound of metal striking metal with such an immense force that my bike lurched violently and hurtled into the air, head over heels - taking me with it.  

I barely had time to register the whirling of the world turning upside down, before the momentum of my violent somersault had righted me again. Somehow, I landed back on my feet, just about keeping my balance, with my hands still clutching tightly onto the bicycle handlebars – now twisted completely around from the shock of the impact. Behind me, I could hear panicked shouting and the desperate screeching of brakes, followed by the sounds of skidding crashes as my fellow officers tried desperately to avoid whatever had sent me flying. I let my bicycle fall to the ground and stumbled back up the road toward the others. This time, squinting in the dark I saw the oblong shape of the barrier gate that had struck my bike. Earlier, when we had rode up, the barrier had been raised. We hadn’t expected it to be barring our way now.  

Moving round the barrier, I called out to check my fellow officers. They were scattered across the ground of the path. Some had swerved right into the spiked branches of tree line, others had skidded in their desperate attempt to break and were nursing grit-filled hands. All were suffering from injuries to some extent or another, the best bearing only bruises. Apart from me – the only one of us to have hit the bar straight-on.