On a beautiful spring day in Karachi, the men of the PNS MOAWIN were packing up after a hard days work when tragedy struck. Just a couple of months back they had ridden out the terrible Indian Ocean tsunami. In its aftermath they had swung into action within minutes, becoming perhaps the first warship on the scene of the greatest disaster in living memory and saved the lives of hundreds of men, women and children marooned on the shattered islands of the Maldives. They gave of everything they had---stores, provisions, food, blankets, water---to the grateful survivors who showered them with accolades for their sterling performance. After a heroes welcome home and a brief respite, the crew had resumed their usual peacetime work of bringing their complex ship to the highest level of operational readiness, waiting to see if they would be selected to proudly carry the Pakistan flag across the globe on a cruise around the world. Suddenly their idyllic world was shattered by an explosion which in its wake left dozens of them horribly burnt. Several died instantly. The heroic saviors of the tsunami carnage themselves now lay burnt, waiting for their comrades to rescue them and end their agony.

The MOAWIN is a burstling, booming community, its two hundred-plus officers and crew ever ready to support the fleet, defending Pakistan's maritime interests. At over 16,000 tons displacement and longer than one and a half football fields, its principal role is to provide fuel, food and stores to ships operating out at sea for prolonged periods. But it is also a full fledged fighting machine, capable not only of defending itself but also of taking the battle out to the enemy.

Lying alongside its usual berth at the Naval dockyard the ship was carrying out routine maintenance work. A team of civilian dockyard workers was working in an empty oil tank when one of them felt faint. He was promptly rescued by the ships sailors and carried up top for medical check-up. Only the report of an on-going enquiry will determine what exactly happened next, but apparently soon after the evacuation of the civilian worker to safety there was a flash fire inside the tank. A huge fireball erupted and spread swiftly through the holds and innards of the ship, the intense flame engulfing everyone in its path. Seven officers and men died on the spot. About 150 got burns of various degree, many critical, others relatively minor.

The magnitude of this tragedy---the worst in the Navy's peacetime history---only started to unfurl when casualties were evacuated to the Navy's hospital at SHIFA. After the initial shock and trauma, burn victims face three majors hazards. Heat inhalation causes damage to the respiratory tract, which is difficult to detect accurately and to treat. Burning of the skin leads to high vulnerability of infection, while dehydration due to fluid loss can itself be fatal. Provisions are always made in burn units to handle all three eventualities. Outside of burr units, such facilities are very rare, making the task of the medical staff that much harder. Sadly there are only a very few burn units in Pakistan. The Army has the best-equipped one at CMH Kharian, with 25 beds. Patel Hospital in Karachi can cater for 15 patients. Another private hospital has limited facilities for five. That is just about all. The worst cases were immediately evacuated to these three facilities, the PAF providing C-130 aircraft to transport serious cases to Islamabad en route to Kharain. Dozens of others were admitted to PNS SHIFA. Scores received treatment and were discharged. The Army threw in a horde of doctors and nurses to help with the emergency. Despite around-the-clock desperate attempts by the medical staff, within the first week another 30 officers and men succumbed to their burns.

Prompt and effective medical treatment is obviously top priority. But an equally important consideration is the care and attention of families of affected officers and men. It is at such times of trial that the true spirit of the armed forces comes into play. A support system automatically takes over the responsibility of contacting families; of providing them emergency financial and moral support; of caring for the kinsfolk who inevitably rush to hospitals to be by the bed side of their loved ones; and of providing befitting farewells to those who fail to pull through. At the forefront of every military force are the cream of a nation's youth. MOAWIN in no exception. The vast majority of its officers and crew are in their 20's and 30's. So when they die they leave behind very young widows and toddling orphans, faced with a long, formidable and uncertain future. Too early in life to have built a nest-egg, or even a roof over their heads, the plight of these young families is almost too painful to comprehend. Particularly in the cruel environment of traditional in-law's hostility, where a young widow with children is not only perceived as a social and financial burden but also as a constant reminder of the loss of a son in the prime of his youth. And that too in a land where, much to our collective shame, misuse of Hadood laws, sadistic jirga justice, honour killings, domestic violence, rape and abuse of women continue to be rampant. The supposed safety net of family support often turns out to have been woven out of barbed wire, tearing apart the entrails of the young family. This is where the Navy comes in, owning the widows and orphans as its own, maintaining, sustaining and supporting them in their agonizing journey through life with personal security; with pensions, housing, jobs, education, and heath care; and with everything else they need for a safe and honourable future. It is this spirit of camaraderie and compassion that has made the armed forces such a cohesive body, always ready to come to the support of stricken comrades and their grieving families.

Human suffering has to be faced but the life of the Navy must also go on. Here again the Pakistan Navy has demonstrated an exemplary level of professional competence. Within hours, the stricken ship had been visited by the Navy's brass. The Chief himself addressed the survivors and mobilized all his resources to get the ship back in operation. Dozens of officers and men were appointed at immediate notice to replace the casualties and, quite remarkably, just four days after the accident PNS MOAWIN once again put out to sea. Nothing could have done more for the honour and pride of the Fleet than the sight of the vessel sailing out of harbour so soon after a major calamity, its national standard fluttering in the breeze.

Today, a week after the tragedy, dozens of medical personnel struggle around the clock to provide the finest care to the injured crew, while their comrades and families pray for their speedy recovery. As for those who have fallen, the welfare of their families is uppermost in the mind of every sailor. Besides their faith in the Almighty, the one thing that gives these grieving families solace in the their hour of turmoil is the fact that they are, and always will remain, members of the Naval family---a family which stands together and never fails one of its own.