558 বাংলাদেশের স্বাধীনতা যুদ্ধ দলিলপত্রঃ ষষ্ঠ খণ্ড শিরোনাম সংবাদপত্র তারিখ An Evacuee Child Writes... The Nation 22 October, 1971 Vol. 1 : No. 3 ANEWACUEE CHILD WRITES.... By Nasreen The 2"May ended with a beautiful spring evening; and that is the day I can never forget as long as I live. We were still at Ramgarh, the Sub-Divisional town of Chittagong Hill Tracts. When I think of that day, I can still see the small town, the happy people leading their normal lives. On the 2" of May, Col. Ziaur Rahman told my father that he should shift his family to the other side of the border. The B.S.F. helped us to cross over. At about 4 O' clock in the afternoon, the Pakistani soldiers came to Ramgarh and then I saw some of my college friends and other boys have known since childhood walk forward with a smiling face and take up their positions. The E.B.R., E.P.R. and the police also did the same. But in my young heart, I only felt worried and scared for my friends. Some of them gave up their lives for their beloved motherland. Slowly the stars came out bringing the day to a close. All on a sudden, I heard a shot, but I could not make out from where it came and then I saw my father’s orderly come running to me; he was quite annoyed with me, for he saw me standing on the steps of the police station. He caught me by the hand and dragged me from that place, and then only I realized what was wrong. The evening sky was all red and I could see my friends running and taking up their positions. I got really scared and started running, because this is the first time in my life I saw real mortar shells falling like rain drops all over the place. Curious even in the face of that calamitous situation, some of our neighbors and we three sisters climbed a hillock, and what we saw was our beloved motherland burning to ashes. But still we did not give up hope, because we all knew that one day our motherland would be free and our death-defying freedom fighters would not let a single Pak soldier remain in our sacred soil. In the midst of hopeful ponderings, I saw the Doctor of that small hospital come running towards my sister, Naseem, for help. In no time we all three sisters went to help him. The mortar shells and machine-gun firing was so close that we thought it would come and fall on our ailing brother. The fierce-fighting continued for more than two days. But our brave boys had to retreat because the Pak army had thrice our strength equipped with modern fire powers. After a few days, I went and stood near small stream that separated India and our Bangladesh. I saw the brute barbarian Pak soldiers enjoying the jackfruits of our country.
