My Years with the IAF Air Chief Marshal PC Lal

My Years with the IAF Air Chief Marshal PC Lal

Part I A Personal Memoir
Introduction
I am indebted to my country, my Service and my family for the satisfaction that these years of service have brought me. This satisfaction outweighs the periods of physical strain, mental tension and sorrow and long stretches of numbing routine and paper work. This surely is the experience of all but a chosen few who stand out and shine above all others and whose ideas and achievements illuminate the history of their time. I do not presume to be one such. As one of the millions who have served the country, typical of the many more who continue to do so, I feel that it is my duty to that anonymous multitude to give a brief glimpse into how one of the many lived and worked and the kinds of problems and predicaments that were faced. Situations not unlike the ones recorded are bound to arise in future and it is just possible that knowledge of how they were handled, or mishandled, in the past, may help in coping with them better in the future.
This then is a personal narrative, a record of the experiences of one person amongst many. It is written in the hope that it may prove of interest and use to others placed as I was. Such a record, unfortunately, calls for the use of the singular personal pronoun. I have tried to keep its usage to the minimum, but when it appears it does so because its use seems to me unavoidable.
In the years that I have been connected with aviation, both military and civil, I have seen much that is inspiring and exhilarating and also much which makes me wonder how individuals who have been subject to the discipline of the air, and are members of the brotherhood of aviators, can behave as they do. But then aviation, like any other profession, deals with human beings and lays bare their condition perhaps more clearly than many of the others can. This is the substance of my story.
THIS PERSONAL NARRATIVE COVERS the period from 14 November 1939 to 16 January 1973, from the date that I was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in what was then the IAF Volunteer Reserve to my last day in service in the Indian Air Force. The second part of the narrative covers the post-Independence years during which the fledgling air force became a fine fighting force. The third part focuses on the fourteen-day war of liberation which resulted in the birth of Bangladesh. I was then the Chief of Air Staff and the Indian Air Force played a major role in the conflict.
These years span World War II and the first thirty years of independent India. They encompass its wars and industrial expansion and the trials and tribulations of growth. These years saw great events move the world and our country, events that involved hundreds of millions of human beings and which wrought vast changes everywhere and particularly in our part of the globe. Leaders of varying degrees of merit, elected or self-appointed, came to the fore, had their day and moved on. Plans, policies and programmes were formulated by governmental machinery. They saw times of hope and of despair, of ambitious plans, of boastful claims, of some successes and some failures.
Most of my years of service have been spent in different parts of our ponderous government machine. Preparations for that began during the World War. Besides teaching the technology of war, perhaps the more lasting contribution was that they provided opportunities for understanding, and even developing, the craft of administration and the art of managing men. It was a hard and costly education, expensive in lives and money, in emotion and tension but the lessons learnt were indelible. When India became independent many of us found ourselves transformed from lowly workers in the field to staff officers, interpreting policies, formulating plans and implementing and enforcing programmes. After indepenedence, the numbers of such functionaries became legion.
Luck counts for a great deal in life. I have been lucky to have had a father who indulged me in the hobby of flying in the early thirties. I was on home leave from England (where I was studying to be a barrister) for the summer vacation in 1939 when World War II began, lucky again to have survived when many of those with whom I joined the IAF Volunteer Reserve in 1939 did not and fortunate indeed, to have served in the Air Force of independent India. This gave me opportunities to work at a variety of jobs that could never be possible in an older service under more settled conditions. It has also been my great good fortune to have met many interesting and influential persons and to have played a part, often minor but sometimes of significance, in matters that have affected the life of our country.
Introduction
I am indebted to my country, my Service and my family for the satisfaction that these years of service have brought me. This satisfaction outweighs the periods of physical strain, mental tension and sorrow and long stretches of numbing routine and paper work. This surely is the experience of all but a chosen few who stand out and shine above all others and whose ideas and achievements illuminate the history of their time. I do not presume to be one such. As one of the millions who have served the country, typical of the many more who continue to do so, I feel that it is my duty to that anonymous multitude to give a brief glimpse into how one of the many lived and worked and the kinds of problems and predicaments that were faced. Situations not unlike the ones recorded are bound to arise in future and it is just possible that knowledge of how they were handled, or mishandled, in the past, may help in coping with them better in the future.
This then is a personal narrative, a record of the experiences of one person amongst many. It is written in the hope that it may prove of interest and use to others placed as I was. Such a record, unfortunately, calls for the use of the singular personal pronoun. I have tried to keep its usage to the minimum, but when it appears it does so because its use seems to me unavoidable.
In the years that I have been connected with aviation, both military and civil, I have seen much that is inspiring and exhilarating and also much which makes me wonder how individuals who have been subject to the discipline of the air, and are members of the brotherhood of aviators, can behave as they do. But then aviation, like any other profession, deals with human beings and lays bare their condition perhaps more clearly than many of the others can. This is the substance of my story.
THIS PERSONAL NARRATIVE COVERS the period from 14 November 1939 to 16 January 1973, from the date that I was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in what was then the IAF Volunteer Reserve to my last day in service in the Indian Air Force. The second part of the narrative covers the post-Independence years during which the fledgling air force became a fine fighting force. The third part focuses on the fourteen-day war of liberation which resulted in the birth of Bangladesh. I was then the Chief of Air Staff and the Indian Air Force played a major role in the conflict.
These years span World War II and the first thirty years of independent India. They encompass its wars and industrial expansion and the trials and tribulations of growth. These years saw great events move the world and our country, events that involved hundreds of millions of human beings and which wrought vast changes everywhere and particularly in our part of the globe. Leaders of varying degrees of merit, elected or self-appointed, came to the fore, had their day and moved on. Plans, policies and programmes were formulated by governmental machinery. They saw times of hope and of despair, of ambitious plans, of boastful claims, of some successes and some failures.
Most of my years of service have been spent in different parts of our ponderous government machine. Preparations for that began during the World War. Besides teaching the technology of war, perhaps the more lasting contribution was that they provided opportunities for understanding, and even developing, the craft of administration and the art of managing men. It was a hard and costly education, expensive in lives and money, in emotion and tension but the lessons learnt were indelible. When India became independent many of us found ourselves transformed from lowly workers in the field to staff officers, interpreting policies, formulating plans and implementing and enforcing programmes. After indepenedence, the numbers of such functionaries became legion.
Luck counts for a great deal in life. I have been lucky to have had a father who indulged me in the hobby of flying in the early thirties. I was on home leave from England (where I was studying to be a barrister) for the summer vacation in 1939 when World War II began, lucky again to have survived when many of those with whom I joined the IAF Volunteer Reserve in 1939 did not and fortunate indeed, to have served in the Air Force of independent India. This gave me opportunities to work at a variety of jobs that could never be possible in an older service under more settled conditions. It has also been my great good fortune to have met many interesting and influential persons and to have played a part, often minor but sometimes of significance, in matters that have affected the life of our country.
evidence of the British presence that I can recall as a child was the Station School where there were some thirty or forty British and Anglo-Indian children, the latter mostly from the railway colony.
An event of some importance in the aeronautical life of India was the staging of an air display in Delhi by the RAF during the winter of 1926. My parents brought the whole family to Delhi for it. Spectators stands were erected alongside Safdarjang’s tomb overlooking the open space that later became Delhi’s civil airport. Thousands of people saw for the first time aircraft flying in formation and performing aerobatics. The most spectacular item was the low-level dogfight between two aircraft, which ended with one of them emitting smoke and ejecting a figure that came floating down under a parachute to land close to the spellbound audience while the aircraft disappeared behind the trees that crowned the low ridge on which the Ashoka Hotel stands now. Thirty-three years later I met the pilot of the aircraft that was ‘shot down’. Popularly known as Scotty Allen, he was then the Deputy General Manager of Quantas, the Australian Airline. He had been selected for that part in the air show because of his slight figure and short stature, for only he could accommodate a dummy alongside himself in the cockpit. Much practice and many trial runs were required to perfect the ejection of the dummy and the disappearance of the aircraft. It was a thrilling display that was fraught with danger, as I realised many years later.
Another notable event occurred three years later in the winter of 1929 when Captain Barnard brought his flying circus to Delhi. By then we were living in that city and it was but natural that we should see that air show also. It was made truly memorable by the fact that he offered joy rides for five minutes at rupees five per head. That was my first experience of flying and it remains fresh in my mind fifty years later. We flew in a Gypsy Moth, a biplane with open cockpit and an exhaust pipe along the left side of the fuselage. It was an unforgettable flight! How vast was the horizon and looking down at Safdarjang’s tomb how small it appeared. We did one full circuit of the airfield then just grass with a grave in the middle. After that, I simply had to learn to fly. My parts agreed to that readily enough but the problem was to get the ‘Delhi Flying Club to accept me as a member. It did so in January 1934, a month after I turned 17 years of age. My thanks for that are due to Mr. Bhagat Behari Lal, the Chief Instructor. I qualified for an amateur pilot’s licence in June that year, the youngest I believe to do so, and so came on to the books of the Director General of Civil Aviation. This record led to the invitation to join the IAFVR in 1939.
A Military Flying School was set up in India at Sitapur in Uttar Pradesh in December 1913 with Capt S. D. Massey a British officer of 29 Punjab Regiment as its Commanding Officer. Civil flying clubs were set up in the metropolitan cities of India at Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta and Lucknow in the late twenties where a select few adventurous young men were learning to fly as a sport. With the growth of the nationalist movement the demand for increased Indianisation of the Armed Forces came up repeatedly in the Legislative Assembly. In response to this, a Committee was formed in June 1925 under the Chairmanship of the Chief of General Staff, Lt Gen Sir Andrew Skeene, KCB, KCIE, CMG, to study this proposal. Regarding the Air Force, the committee recommended that selected, deserving Indians should be given King’s Commission to form an Air Arm of the Indian Army and be sent for training to the Royal Air Force Training College at Cranwell in England. Air Vice Mshl John M. Salmond, Air Officer Commanding in India (later Marshal of the RAF) objected strongly to the proposal that the Air Arm be under the Army. He advocated an independent status for this new service. The idea may have been accepted in theory, but the infant Air Force functioned in practice under the authority and supervision of the Commander-in-Chief of India till the country became independent. This concept speaks volumes for the farsightedness of this RAF offiicer who rose to greater eminence after returning to England. Because of this idea of an Air Force being an independent body, making its own decisions, in cooperation with the Army and the Navy, as a partner of equal importance, contributes more, in the opinion of many, to the efficiency of this service.
The Indian Air Force Act became effective from 8 October 1932. Six young Indian Cadets–Subroto Mukerjee, H.C. Sirkar, A.B. Awan, Bhupendra Singh, Amarjeet Singh and J.N. Tandon were sent to England in 1930 for two years’ training. The first five candidates duly qualified as pilots. Tandon did not, for no other fault other than being too short he could not the controls. He became an equipment officer (now called a Logistic Officer).
Twenty-nine men were recruited from railway workshops and trained for a year as Apprentice Aircraft Hand, later called “Hawai Sepoys”. Twenty-two of them qualified. The one amongst them who rose later to great distinction, and became a legend in the Indian Air Force, was Air Vice Mshl Harjinder Singh, VSM (1)MBE.
On 1 April 1933 A Flight of No.1 Squadron of the IAF was formed at Karachi. The aircraft they were given were four Westland Wapities said to have been acquired by the government of India for £ 10 each. The Commanding Officer was Flt Lt C.A. Bouchier, DFC, of the RAF. His rapport with the Indian officers and men was great.
The other IAF officers later to be trained at Cranwell were A.M. Engineer, K.K. Majumdar, H. Ranganathan, Narendra, Halibullah Khan, Prithipal Singh, Mehar Singh, R.H.D. Singh, S.N. Goyal and Arjan Singh. Of these officers, A.M. Engineer and Arjan Singh rose to be the Chief of Air Staff. A.M. Engineer had previously won the Agha Khan Cup in an Air Race between India and England, flying a Gypsy Moth. He was then only 17 years old. At Cranwwell he was the best allround cadet of his batch.
The initial operational experience of this infant IAF started in the border province of undivided India under the shadow of the bare hills of Afghanistan which now constitutes a part of Pakistan. There were a
The Pioneers
LONG BEFORE THE Indian Air Force came into being, there were a few Indians who were pioneers in military flying. They were with the Royal Flying Corps of Great Britain during World War I. One was the late Sardar H.S Malik, who later on became one of our veterans in the External Affairs Ministry and a champion golfer, who went about his daily jobs and played golf with a bullet lodged in his knee. Two others were killed in action, they were Lt Indra Lal Roy, DFC and Lt S. G. Welingkar, MC. They blazed trails of glory.
number of army cantonments here, the most important being Peshawar. A considerable part of the province could be called ‘No-man’s land; it was almost a buffer state where the British found it difficult to govern the independence loving, somewhat wild tribes such as the Afridis, the Mohamands and the Waziris. They eked out a hardy, difficult existence in this infertile, stony land of very scanty rainfall and lived by a code of their own. The British tried to keep them pacified partly by subsidies but that was not enough. They had to use the Army and in due course, the Air Force too. That is where A Flight of No.1 Squadron was sent, to Miranshah in the valley of the river Tochi in Waziristan in 1937. Fg Offrs Mukerjee, Engineer, Narendra and Awan were posted there. The flight was shifted around to different cantonments according to need. The standard of their flying and the serviceability of their aircraft earned the admiration of all concerned. By July 1938 there were three flights. The flight commanders were Fg Offrs Mukerjee, Engineer and Majumdar. They and their flights acquitted themselves very well indeed. Mehar Baba, who proved to be one of the most skilful and daring pilots also started his career here.
Later, No.1 Squadron was based at Ambala. In 1939 Flt Lt Mukerjee was promoted to Squadron Leader and was given the command of the squadron. He has many “Firsts” to his credit. He was the first Indian to command a flight, a squadron, a station (Kohat) and finally the first Indian to head the service. At the time World War II broke out the IAF had a total of sixteen officers and one hundred and forty-four airmen. Expansion was required urgently.
WARNING NOW YOU’RE IN A.T. S. SOON YOU’LL EITHER BE DONE, FINISHED, PASSED-OUT, KICKED-OUT
OR LAID-out
Indian Air Force Volunteer Reserve
ON 3 SEPTEMBER 1939, World War II broke out. It could be called Hitler’s War, since he and his country were the only ones eager and ready for it. According to many authorities, the reasons for World War II were nascent in the iniquitous impositions of the victors on the vanquished at the Treaty of Versailles at the end of World War I. However, justifiable or otherwise the reasons may have been, they produced a remarkable, formidable personality like Hitler. A man possessed by grievances of his country, single minded in his purpose and boundless in his energy. A man who was able to persuade thousands of fellow Germans to his way of thought and enthuse them to participate in his activities which ultimately lost all sense of proportion and became diabolical in human atrocities. The policy of appeasement followed by the European leaders suited his purpose very well.
One by one many countries fell victim to his strategy of Blitzkrieg. The Island fortress call Britain, protected by the moat of the English Channel and also by the tenacity and determination of its people when they woke to danger, ultimately stood up to this aggression. Lights went out in allied Europe on 3 September 1939. The waves of its repercussion reached all over the British Empire; they reached the shores of India as well.
Britain had to call back most of its resources from its far flung empire and concentrate them either at home or at important and strategic bases. In India there was a solitary squadron and it looked very meagre and inadequate indeed.
poor father spent money on me” -another version of “I do what I like and I like what I do”. To add to it, a smart uniform, a peak cap or a forage cap worn at a rakish angle were attractive not only to the young men but to young ladies as well! And it was disciplined adventure and skill. The grim realities and compulsions of a war dawn later as it comes nearer. Often that proximity to danger brings out the best in a man, but sometimes the worst.
When the invitation came to me to join the Air Force, the family raised no objection. So on the appointed date, I appeared before an Air Force Selection Board at Safdarjang. Three or four RAF officers were seated at a small table in a room adjoining the restaurant in the air terminal building. At the head sat an officer whom I later came to know as Wg Cdr Bussell, notable for his white handlebar moustache and a merry look on his face. A few questions about what I thought of flying, my studies in England and my current activities took a few minutes to answer. He said that numbers of pilots were readily available but that navigators (observers) were also required. If I would agree to be a navigator to begin with, the Air Force would later give me flying training as well. I accepted. Thereafter a doctor took my weight, measured my chest and height, felt my pulse and checked out my blood-pressure. All being satisfactory, I was handed a railway warrant for the journey from Delhi to Nowshera, where I was to detrain for Risalpur, and a list of the clothing that I should take with me. As an afterthought, I was advised to take a personal servant along as well. Three weeks were allowed for these preparations before reporting to the Royal Air Force Station, Risalpur, for training.
Some forty amateur (immature!) pilots arrived at RAF Station, Risalpur, on 12 and 13 November 1939. I was one of them. A few had known each other before, but most of us met each other for the first time.
We were a mixed bag. Two elderly gentlemen who had arrived ahead of all the others, were wealthy land-owners from the Punjab. They had separate bungalows to themselves, where they were waited on hand and foot by teams of retainers that they had brought with them. Each had the latest model eightcylinder Buick convertible which he drove to the main gate of the Air Force Station. There retainers in household liveries awaited them with their bicyles which they then rode into the camp, for private cars were not allowed inside. This opulence was matched by only one other person, an Englishman whose Rolls Royce and string of polo ponies came with him all the way from Calcutta, but he did not stay long. Apparently his company was important to the war effort, for he soon returned to Calcutta, Rolis Royce, polo ponies and all. The land owners also left after a few weeks of initiation into Air Force life. They were earmarked for higher things and it was, therefore, found necessary to send them to an RAF station in Iraq where they were expected to learn how to exercise independent command of units.
Amongst the lesser mortals who came to Risalpur were Indians and Englishmen, the former all volunteers who had held a private pilot’s licence at some time or other, the latter ali expatriates, employed in British-owned concerns in India, compelled to leave their jobs because their services were required by their country. There was a fair sprinkling of senior men from business and industry, such as Reay Geddes who later became the head of Dunlops, Donald Law of the Buckingham, Carnatic Mills, Wilfred Russell
Expansion
WHEN THE WAR began the source to be tapped first was the licence holders of the Flying Clubs. These men had not thought of taking up military flying as a career. The minds of some people in this country were touched, excited, by the news of the war. A few people’s studies abroad were hampered, including mine. The Indian Army, of course, was involved immediately and so were many business interests. But for the people, by and large, including the Air Force, the war was still somewhat distant. The psychology of my response to the invitation to join the Air Force was “the prospect of being paid to do that for which my
from Bombay, and Hem Chaudhuri whose passion for flying far exceeded the attractions of an executive suite in a major business house in Calcutta. Among the others who came to Risalpur was the younger brother of a ruling Maharaja who brought his Lagonda sports car with him, self employed men, and those of no fixed profession who had taken up flying at one time or another. And then there were a few like me, in transition from the status of students to that of professionals, caught up in the war and glad of the opportnnity to fly.
Initiation
INTRODUCTION INTO THE Air Force was a simple matter. After breakfast on the morning of 14 November, all the Indian candididates were asked to report to the Station Headquarters. There the Adjutant presented each of us with a cyclostyled form which contained a statement to the effect that the person signing it had volunteered to serve as an officer in the General Duties Branch of the Indian Air Force Volunteer Reserve for the duration of the war. On signing it we become Acting Pilot Officers. There was no peptalk, no swearing-in ceremony, in fact, nothing to distinguish the occasion from signing a voucher for drinks in the Mess. The entire business was over in a few minutes. Leaving the Adjutant’s office, we were shown the camp tailor’s shop where our first Air Force uniforms were stitched over the next few days.
A friendly relationship developed quickly between the new entrants and the staff of the RAF Station, though there were a few exceptions to the rule. In time I realised that the relaxed atmosphere was due to the fact that an operational RAF Squadron (No. 27) had been converted overnight into a training unit. Most of the officers of the unit held short-service commissions, which meant that they had joined the RAF as grown men, had undergone relatively short periods of training in flying schools that laid stress on competence in the air rather than on the parade ground. Only a few of the twenty or so officers we dealt with were regular officers who had been through Cranwell and looked to the Air Force as a career. The others, but for the war would have joined civil employment within the next five or six years. Only a few were married, and those who were not, or were not accompanied by their families, lived in the bachelor quarters and ate in the Mess. All newcomers, Indians and Englishmen alike, were given similar quarters, and had the same privileges in the Mess as their instructors. And if there had been any doubts about the treatment of Indian officers, these were dispelled within the week on the first dining-in night.
The entire body of officers in station, numbering about seventy including those just commissioned, attended the function, the dress being dinner jackets as on all other evenings. It began formally enough, with each new arrival paying his respects to the senior-most officer present. In due course, all of us filed into the dining hall, the juniors leading, and then, without any prompting, the senior men gravitated towards the head of the table, and the juniors towards the tail. The meal proceeded with the utmost decorum. At the end of the evening, the King’s health was drunk, then came coffee. Cigarettes were lit only after the senior officers had done so. Everyone stayed at the table till the senior officers stood up to leave.
When we moved to the interoom after dinner all formalities were cast aside. Teams were formed, jackets came off, and parlour games of a kind that few of us newcomers had ever seen before kept everyone engaged till well after midnight. Mostly these involved pushing or pulling or swiping at people, the marks awarded deciding which side won. The losers had to pay forfeits, in the form of drinks. Individual performances were also encouraged. The one I remember most vividly began with the unhooking of one of three chains that held up a large wooden cartwheel type of chandelier in the anteroom. An RAF officer, Flt Lt Selkirk as I recall swung himself onto the wheel, hung from it head down by hooking his legs between the spokes of the wheel, and then, while swinging back and forth, invited the spectators to hit him if they could. The usual weapon was a rolled up newspaper, though sometimes harder objects appeared as well. I thought the man would surely be maimed, or at least suffer some minor injury, but he climbed down after a while none the worse for his strenuous exercise. The next day he was flying and instructing as usual. The point of this tale is that the Indian officers were free to take part in all the activities of the Mess as equals, and there was no colour bar, nor any tension. It was indeed a friendly relaxed place where we were soon quite at home. I made some lasting, lifelong friendships with some of the British officers.
The informality of the commissioning, the friendliness of the instructional staff, the lack of pompousness and unnecessary verbiage, and the relaxed atmosphere of the Mess made the six month training period a time of interest and of learning. These conditions were due, I suppose, to the awareness among our instructors that they were dealing with men who had some skill in flying, and that many of them had responsible positions in civil life. In short that they were adults who knew what they were about, and not raw cadets. Consequently, we were spared the rigours of “Square-bashing”, though we were expected to, and did, learn the essentials of marching in, step and forming up for parade on inspection. Such instruction was given in small doses, and was, I imagine, the minimum necessary for men who had to wear uniform and carry officers’ ranks. We never did any arms drill, as I recall, nor were we made to appear at any formal parade. The only parades that we attended in those six months were the morning working parades, and that too on only five days out of seven, for the station was closed on Thursdays and Sundays.
Recruitment continued because the pilots of the Civil Flying Clubs were too few in number. Other recruits were also taken. Among them were scions of well-to-do families, coversant with the English language and familiar with the western style of living. By today’s nomenclature, they would be the HIG (the High Income Group, as against the MIG and the LIG-the Middle and Low Income Groups) with an urban base. Then there were a few who knew just enough English to pass the selection tests in that period of emergency but fitting into the western style of living in the Mess was another matter. Soon after a new batch reported to the training centre and was accommodated in the Mess, a young man was found with his “daten” (a small twig of Neem or Babul tree which is the indigenous toothbrush), his towel and Lota (a mug without a handle) settled down next to the swimming pool for his morning ablutions. Cultural confrontation! Another candidate, a Nawab Sahib was informed by Hem Chaudhuri (Cambridge
educated, ex Andrew Yule and holder of a civil pilot’s licence), that he would have to study subjects such as mathematics and the use of a slide rule in order to learn some navigation in addition to flying. Nawab Sahib suddenly realised that the duties of administration of his mini-state could not be delegated and went back home in a hurry. After the preliminary pruning the course got under way.
“You are a saintly man, Doc,” he said, “you should attain martyrdom and we shall help you to do it”. In the evening he and his cronies managed to tie the Doctor to a pole, piled up faggots around him and lit them. When carried to an extreme, a sense of humour or a practical joke degenerates into pathological cruelty. When the Doctor was on the point of getting singed, others rescued him and stopped this dangerous game. Doc had to be hospitalised for a while.
The discipline of life in the Air Force became too much for Amber though. So he joined civil aviation and his last joke was on himself. While doing unorthodox low flying in a Dakota, he crashed and was killed.
In the early days of recruitment and training, this novel and adventurous profession attracted some young men who displayed a macabre sense of humour and an unusual propensity for practical jokes. One such cheerful young man, Amber, was travelling by train from Ambala to Lahore for a weekend. The train left Ambala in the middle of the night and reached Lahore in the morning. Amber found the berth he had booked and made himself comfortable there. An elderly British army officer, fairly stiff and formal, with a handle-bar moustache was travelling in the same compartment. They slept. In the morning they woke, sat up, went through their morning tidying uproutine. The train was approaching Lahore. Amber launched into polite conversation. After the preliminary courtesies, he said:
“Let me pay you a compliment, Sir. What a fine moustache you have! Very handsome indeed! And I should know a thing or two about moustaches because I was a barber by profession earlier in my civil life.”
The recipient of this compliment was visibly pleased. Then Amber cocked his head to one side and took a critical look.
“It seems just a little heavier though on one side than the other”, he said. The man looked a bit concerned at this remark. “If you allow me, Sir, I can trim it for you. May I?”
The man seemed to be a bit undecided and hesitant, but vanity made him acquiesce to the proposal of this friendly young man. Amber promptly brought out a small pair of scissors from his toilet case. By then the train had slowed down considerably, and was steaming into the platform of the railway station at Lahore. Amber was making delicate little snips with the scissors. As the train came to a halt, the scissors made a smart snip. Half the moustache was gone. Amber jumped out of the train with his small suitcase, and melted away in the crowd on the platform.
On another occasion, a fellow officer complained of losing his hair. Amber was solicitous.
“You know, the same trouble was bothering me sometime ago, but a very kind friend gave me a lotion. I used it and since then my hair stopped falling. I still have some of that lotion with me. I shall send it across to you. Apply it to your scalp at night liberally before going to bed and just see the result. It works wonders. At most you may need a second application.”
The bottle of lotion arrived, without any label. The afflicted man used it. In the morning there was hardly any hair left on his head! It was hair remover.
There was a doctor on the station who was somewhat Gandhian in his principles, and was definitely against the use of alcohol. Unfortunately, he did not keep his views to himself. For much of the ill-health that the men suffered, he blamed the alcohol they consumed. This irked Amber who liked his drink -it helped keep his spirit high. The Doctor became his target.
Contribution to the War Effort
happy to learn the art. In school I disliked mathematics; it was dull. Here mathematics was applied and I found it interesting. After finishing training I was posted to Karachi for three months or so, flying around to look for enemy ships and submarines. Then I was posted back to Risalpur as a Navigation Instructor. The pilots of the regular RAF and the IAF were found to be rather weak in navigation, I remember on a night exercise in a Valentia, I let my pupils have their way in Astro-navigation till I could see the lights of Afghanistan. At that point I had to intervene, “Gentlemen, if you do not want to force land in Afghanistan and thereby trigger off an international incident, we had better retrace our course back to mother India”.
We did safely. After six months, I was sent to the Coast Defence Flight in Calcutta, but only for a few months. From there I was back again as a Navigation Instructor to the SFTS No.1 at Ambala. Here, while instructing as a navigator, I was also trained as a pilot on military machines. Audaxes and Hawker Harts were flown a great deal.
By 1942, Harvards arrived and were used. The roar of their engines used to reverberate for miles around and fill the air, specially in the early mornings.
THE COAST DEFENCE FLIGHTS were formed first at Karachi, Bombay, Cochin, Madras, Calcutta and later at Vizag (Visakhapatnam). Their aircraft were far from adequate for the purpose. The flight at Bombay had twin-engine Dragon Rapides and Dominies. The rest were mostly the same old Wapitis, in Mess lingo known as “What-a-pities”. From the very beginning, the enthusiasm of the young men made up for the shortfall in the quality and quantity of the material. By March 1941, No.2 Squadron was raised at Peshawar. Even before that, in September 1940, twenty-four Indian pilots were deputed to fly with the RAF in Britain. The losses were heavy, eight did not come back. The rest returned home by July 1942 with considerable operational experience.
On 7 December 1941, Japan joined the fray, taking the world by surprise with a stunning blow on Pearl Harbour at Hawai. The Japanese invaded Malaya the same day. Their Army, Navy and Air Force proceeded with lightning speed and coordination. When Singapore fell, the floodgate to the East was open. The airfields in Burma began to feel the heat. In answer, the Coast Defence Flights (CDFs) took turns in Burma, along with the RAF squadrons and some members of the American Volunteer Group (AVG). The first CDF to go to Moulmein, Burma, was No. 4 from Karachi, equipped-hardly the right word for its antediluvian machines, with Wapitis and Audaxes. Faced with the Japanese Blitzkreig, they soon had to withdraw to Bassein. They were replaced in January by No. 3 CDF from Calcutta under Hem Chaudhuri. To begin with, No. 3 CDF were flying the four-engined Atlantas requisitioned by the Government from Indian Transcontinental Airway; but by December 1941 they had converted to twin-engine Blenheims-a decided improvement on the machines of No.4 CDF.
Recruitment, expansion and training gained momentum. The Service Flying Training Schools (SFTS) were at Ambala, Lahore (Walton), Jodhpur and Begumpet (Hyderabad). Operational Training Units (OTUS) were at Peshawar and Risalpur. The Ground Training Schools were located at Poona for officers and at Ambala and Bangalore for airmen. A Radio Training School was set up at Hakimpet (Hyderabad). In addition, several trade centres were set up all over the country. No. 3 Squadron was formed in October 1941 and No. 4 in February 1942. By the end of 1942, the Coast Defence Flights were disbanded as a separate entity.
An incident of 18 December 1941 shook me. My marriage had been scheduled for mid-December that year. My leave was sanctioned. I came home to Delhi early in December. When Japan joined the war and bombed Pearl Harbour On 7 December, all leave for defence personnel in India was cancelied. I was informed by telephone that an aircraft was being despatched from Ambala forthwith to collect me. I pleaded for just a few days leave because the preparations for the marriage, both on our side as well as that of my bride-to-be in Calcutta were complete. But no, a Flying Officer of seven month’s standing was simply indispensable to the war effort and could not be spared even for a week. I had to return immediately to Ambala. I did so with a heavy heart and yet with a feeling of my own importance.
A job come up immediately. An aircraft, a DH 86, that is a Dragon Rapide, a four-engine aircraft, requistioned by the government from the aviation department of Tata Sons Ltd., had to be ferried from Ambala to Bombay via Jodhpur and Ahmedabad. On the morning of 18 December, a RAF officer, Flt Lt Bishop, took the controls and I was the second pilot. I had stepped into this aircraft, into any four-engine aircraft for that matter, only once previously, two days ago! The aircraft took off with a terrific lurch and we managed to get airborne. A three hour flight brought us to Jodhpur and we landed. After the necessary stopover, when Bishop tried to take off, the machine swung violently to one side. He managed to take corrective action and we succeeded in getting airborne. It left me somewhat apprehensive of our next scheduled landing and take off. In an hour and forty minutes we landed at Ahmedabad uneventfully. At take off, the engines started up, the aircraft gathered speed but swung violently, turned on its side and came to an abrupt stop. The engines were quickly switched off. Surprisingly the machine did not catch fire through certainly parts of its complicted insides must have broken up. We were lucky, indeed, to get away without any major injuries. Bishop bade me a cheerful farewell and left by rail for Bombay to report the crash. There I was, in the middle of nowhere, for the next few days looking at the broken aeroplane mournfully and thinking of what might have been. My wedding eventually took place three months later.
To get back to my own story, I was trained as a navigator from November 1939 to May 1940 and I was
Why did Bishop have to do it? Was it a mechanical failure, inept handling, or both? Why did he not see the writing on the all at Jodhpur? Was he being casual, or overconfident? Or was he under orders to take the aircraft to Bombay at any cost? One cannot really do that with an aircraft. I do not remember the result of the enquiry but the incident bothered me for a long time.
This time there were no casualties but i recall another incident twenty-two years later which ended differently. K.K Ganguly, an ace pilot on Dakotas was a civil pilot of the Indian Airlines. In the late fifties, Indian Airlines Dakotas were doing a lot of supply dropping at NEFA (North Eastern Frontier Agency now known as Arunachal). It was, and still is, a region of dense tropical forests. There was no railway in this mountainous region and hardly any roads. Air transport was the only link which was used a great deal as a political necessity. It was a winter evening. Capt Ganguly was visiting us in Delhi from Calcutta where he was based.
“The Daks are excellent workhorses”, he was saying, sitting in front of a log fire, “completely reliable. You can do what you like with them. When training the novices going to NEFA on supply dropping missions, I let them handle the machine. Sometimes they fly at such a slow speed that the aircraft shudders and is about to stall when I have to take over”.
I was horrified. “Don’t do it ever again K.K. please,” I entreated. He laughed. A few days later K.K. crashed in the jungles of NEFA.
member of Raza’s team, Sgt Cabinetmaker, had to be versatile enough even to drive a railway engine to take the last train load of refugees out of Toungoo. San Ldr Majumdar was the first Indian to win a Distinguished Flying Cross in World War II. In 1944 he earned a bar to his DFC for his reconnaissance job when flying in England with the RAF. But “Fate is the Hunter” and he lost his life in a flying accident in February 1945. Air is a cruel master. Quite apart from enemy action, flying claims its own sacrifices; it should be treated with respect. It is no exaggeration to say there is no room for overconfidence and selfcomplacency and there is very little margin of error.
Flying in Burma with the aircraft that the IAF had at the time was certainly not easy. The mountains, running from north to south, go up to around 12,000 ft making it difficult for the obsolete aeroplanes to clear them. They had to fly along the valleys and to cross over, find gaps in the ranges. In hot humid climate, the vegetation is dense, the weather often muggy or misty in the mornings and afternoons. There were hardly any proper airfields, only landing strips without any landing aids. If any forced landing was indicated, there was hardly any chance of survival. Even day-to-day living conditions were pretty difficult. Neither the Air Force nor the Army personnel were used to this climate or the mosquitoes, insects, leeches and snakes that such a climate breeds. The food situation was not easy, transportation was difficult and the Japanese aeroplanes were far superior to ours. In spite of all these handicaps the flying and the maintenance of the aircraft by the IAF was something to be proud of WO Harjinder Singh received his MBE for very high serviceability of the squadron aircraft and for his imaginative improvisations. The IAF bombed and strafed the Japanese-occupied bases, gave support to our army, did tactical and photo reconnaissance and carried VIPs but in spite of the combined Allied effort, the Japanese advance continued and the Allies had to retreat.
By 1 February 1942 our veteran No.1 Squadron, with a dozen Lysanders, gifts from the patriotic and kind citizens of Bombay, was inducted. The commander of the squadron was San Ldr K.K. Majumdar (Jumbo). They were based at Toungoo, about 200 miles north of Rangoon. No. 28 RAF Squadron, also flying Lysanders and No. 67, flying Buffaloes, were also there along with some AVGs flying Tomahawks. On arrival, No.1 kept their machines well dispersed. That very night they were bombed twice by the Japanese. Majumdar was not the type to take a beating lying down. Lysanders were not designed as bombers, they only had machine guns but this young squadron commander overcame this shortcoming through the use of imagination, innovation, valour and leadership. He had a bomb-rack fitted under each wing of his aircraft. Carrying two precious bombs of 250 Ibs each, he did the first trip from his squadron, escorted by two Buffalo aircraft from No. 67 RAF Squadron. They flew to Machongsan and bombed this station which they deduced was the Japanese base from which the raids had been mounted. That was the exploratory flight-a distinguishing trait of eminent leaders, the path-finders. The next day, the squadron did the job in full force, flying at treetop height. Their bombing was accurate and luckily they did not attract the notice of the Japanese fighters. They served also in Rangoon and Moulmein. Then the three flights of the squadron were ordered to split up and serve at three different places, Flt Lt Prithipal Singh and his flight in the north in Lashio to help Chiang-kai-Shek’s forces; Ft Lt Prasad and his detachment was to remain at Rangoon and Flt Lt Raza was required to go back to Toungoo. In 1942, with the initial success of the Japanese, the Allies in Burma were pulling back. The prospect for them was bleak. One member of
Early in 1943, I was posted to the OTU at Peshawar again as an instructor. The aircraft that was flown most for navigational instruction was the twin-engine Anson. A new type of aircraft, the Vultee Vengeance Dive Bomber was then introduced. It was meant to be the British and American answer to the German Stukas. The first units to receive this aircraft were the RAF squadrons and two IAF squadrons, Nos. 7 and 8, and I was made an instructor on these planes. At that time none of us knew anything about dive bombing. We had to develop our own ways of attack. An RAF officer who had been to America and visited the factory where these aircraft were designed, took one up for demonstration. He went into a dive and never recovered from it. He went straight into the ground, the aircraft blew up and he was killed. This was a rather spectacular way to demonstrate the bombing. Anyway, we went on to develop our own techniques and in fact trained some RAF squadrons and then No.7 Squadron under San Ldr Hem Chaudhuri.
Hem was a man who stood out amongst men. Son of a very successful barrister in Calcutta, he was one of four children Two of his brothers were in the Indian Army. The eldest was General J.N. Chaudhuri, who rose to be the Chief and then was given a diplomatic assignment. The General had gone through Sandhurst but Hem chose to read at Cambridge. He was serving with Andrew Yule in Calcutta when he was invited to join the IAFVR in November 1939. He already had an amateur pilot’s licence. He was well
read, played games to keep fit, drank heavily but, as he said, could hold his drink. He was cheerful, witty, at times extremely boisterous in his merry making. He was fond of wine but not of women. For him there was one woman, his wife Moneesha and he had time for his children. At Mess parties, as the evening rolled into the early hours of the next morning, Hem chose to punish the dissidents who did not join him at that late hour by visiting them in their rooms, throwing them out of their beds, summer or winter, and subjecting them to minor indignities. All this was done and accepted in good faith. But after such nights of revelry, he was on duty exactly on time, clean shaven and bathed, utterly sober, with perhaps tell-tale bloodshot eyes for lack of sleep. If anybody in his squadron was late, there was punishment. If anybody had not found time to shave, who normally should have and tried to pass it off by saying, “I intend growing a beard and a moustache”, he was held to his word. He not allowed to shave for quite a while and had to go about looking shabby and feeling uncomfortable till the CO thought he was contrite enough and had expiated for his sin.
Hem was more Western than Indian, a Brown Sahib. But I have seen him in the Mess, not quite inebriate but not quite sober either, singing-although he was not exactly a Paul Robson-and making other Bengali youths of his squadron line up and sing with him the popular Bengali patriotic song: “Dhana dhanye pushpe bhara” (In this world of ours rich with flowers, food grains and sundry bounties, there is one country that is the best of all-and that is my motherland).
His flying had the stamp of his personality. It was competent and a little overconfident. While at OTU Peshawar, he was flying an Anson when he spotted a small caravan of Pathans on their camels, a common sight in that area. Hem was suddenly possessed by one of his whimsical moods. “Let’s get those buggers off their camels”. He was the Co. Nobody could contradict him. And so he did what he said. He started flying so low over them, swooping down repeatedly that those poor men did ultimately dismount, made their tall awkward animals sit down and in fear, anger and misery, sat themselves down besides their frightened and puzzled animals…. One could almost hear the choicest Pushto abuses.
Hem, older than most people in this set up had quite a standing, even apart from his age, which sometimes gave rise to some difficult situations. After a flying accident on the station, the Station Commander prohibited low flying. But Hem, with his entire squadron, did a low-flying formation beat-up at Peshawar. The argument, of course, with a wink and a twinkle in the eye, was that if the boys are scared of low flying even in a peace station, how on earth will they fight a war? And where else, if not at an operational training unit?
After the war, he went back to his civil job. But he used to fly with the Flying Club at Barrackpore near Calcutta. One fine day he went up and was flying over the river. He swooped down in a dive from which he failed to pull out, plunging straight into the water. Was it that with his flamboyance, he tempted fate once too often? Was it a mechanical failure? It was a premature end of a colourful man and a warm personality loved by the men he led.
I was an instructor for both navigation and flying till October 1943. With great difficulty I managed to persuade my superiors that I should go on to operations and that I did not join the Air Force simply to
become an instructor. So I was posted to No.7 Squadron, that is San Ldr Hem Chaudhuri’s squadron which I had to train at Peshawar. At that time the squadron was at Campbelpur, which was a little to the east of Peshawar, just across the Kabul River. There the squadron continued with its own training and occasionally did some bombing in the tribal areas of the NWFP. The following year, in 1944, it was detailed to give support to Gen Wingate’s troops in Burma.
After the Allied withdrawal from the greater part of Burma during 1942 most of 1943 went by without any major events there. The situation was tense and Allied preparations were afoot for wresting initiative and lost ground from the enemy. Towards the end of the year, Gen Stilwell and his men were active in northern Burma and Gen Christison and his forces on the Arakan Coast. Numerous squadrons of the RAF and the American Air Force were posted to these areas as were some young IAF squadrons with their rather limited resources but unlimited enthusiasm. No. 6, with San Ldr Meher Singh as CO, came to Cox’s Bazar on the Arakan Coast in November 1943 followed by No. 8 Dive Bomber Squadron, with San Ldr Niranjan as CO. Meher Baba’s leadership, his extraordinary courage and determination in the face of danger, his professional competence and his sustained effort got the best out of the men that he led. It earned him the DSO (The Distinguished Service Order), he was the only member of the IAF to receive it. He inspired his men to such an extent that Flight Commander Flt Lt M.S. Pujji flew as many as six sorties a day which is quite the limit of human endurance. Doing so he earned his DFC. Fg Offr J.C. Verma of this squadron also won the DFC for the unique distinction of shooting down an Oscar while himself flying a Hurricane! NO. 8 Squadron did not do badly either. The aircraft flew in pairs, the “leader” and behind him his “weaver”, who had the added responsibility of protecting the leader’s tail besides his own tail while being unprotected himself. They were a very heartening sight for the soldiers of the different divisions and formations spread over the area. Depending on where they were flying, the soldiers called them either “the Arakans Twins”, “the Maungdaw Twins”, “the Buthidang Twins” or “the Kaladin Twins”. The soldiers had reason enough to be grateful to these brave young men in their rather inadequate machines, skimming over the treetops to avoid detection by the enemy, doing tactical and photo reconnaissance for them regarding enemy positions and movements, dropping things they needed badly and also the eagerly awaited mail. The dive bombing contributed not a little to the victory of the Allied troops in various battles in the area. The credit goes not only to the pilots who tend to enjoy the limelight: Their success depends greatly on the percentage of serviceability, the quality of maintenance of the aircraft which is the responsibility of the ground crew.
By February 1944 the IAF had nine squadrons. Most of them were equipped with Hurricanes but Nos. 7 and 8 were provided with Vultee Vengeance Dive bombers from America. No. 7 Squadron was inducted into Burma mainly to work for and with Gen Wingate’s soldiers, the Chindits. To fight the Japanese in Burma, Gen Wingate had thought up the scheme of having his men flown in by gliders and landed in northern Burma which was relatively free of the Japanese. It is a very densely wooded area and thinly populated. These troops, the “long range penetration force” as he called them, were to go down south towards where the Japanese were, with support from the air. Aeroplanes were to keep them supplied with
completely surrounded and beseiged. All lines of communication were cut off, the only supply line was by
air.
There were a number of squadrons in the valley of Imphal. No. 1 Squadron of the IAF was based in the northern part of the valley and there were RAF squadrons at an airfield in the southern part. The first person to actually see the Japanese in the northern part of Imphal was Sqn Ldr Arjan Singh. He had been out on a sortie attacking the Japanese elsewhere and he was coming back to base in the afternoon flying his aircraft solo at the time. Coming back to circuit and land at his base, he saw on a hill top overlooking his airfield a number of men in a strange uniform. They did not resemble any uniform, or any men, of the Indian Army. So he went close to have a look and he recognised them as Japanese troops. They were on the top of the hill to see what lay ahead, because they had a force coming in to Imphal from the north. He immediately called out his entire squadron on his own initiative. The other aircraft that were on the ground were also made ready to go. He was the first to attack the Japanese who had actually arrived on the outskirts of Imphal.
food and ammunition. Dakotas had to be used for that and they were to get air support from aircraft like the Vengeance Dive Bombers which would go in and bomb targets indicated by them. This was approved by Churchill. We had finished our training on the Vengeance Dive Bombers and were slotted to be a part of the air support for Wingate’s troops.
Thus in February 1944 the squadron, under the command of San Ldr Hem Chaudhuri, moved from Campbelpur to Gwalior. Gwalior was the base for Wingate’s troops who had been trained in jungle warfare. We worked with them in the forests of Madhya Pradesh where we established contact with each other to attack targets that they indicated. But even before we reached there, a most unfortunate incident happened. We were to fly direct from Campbelpur to Delhi, refuel there and then go on to Gwalior. Hem led one flight and went ahead of me. I was leading my flight of eight aircraft and following him. We ran into very bad weather before we were over Lahore, about midway between Campbelpur and Delhi, and three aircraft of the first flight crashed one after the other. I saw one of the crashes and landed at Lahore to ask the RAF there to see if there were any survivors. Besides the crew in one aircraft was a technician, who did not want to go by rail and wanted to fly. Only two persons survived the crash, five persons were killed. My flight came through intact.
We spent two months training with the Army in Gwalior. By the middle of March we moved east to Silchar in Assam where the RAF had set up a big air base. There were already two RAF squadrons there, No. 7 IAF was the third. We arrived, as I see from my logbook, on 21 March at Kumbhirgram, a small place near Silchar which was assigned to us. Three days later, on 24 March, there was a tremendous storm and we could hear aircraft flying through it. Some of Wingate’s forces had already been landed in northern Burma. On 24 March, the General himself was to join them. But the aircraft flew straight into the storm and crashed. He was killed. His forces, some of them scattered around northern Burma, seemed not too badly affected though by the loss of their leader. However, when we started to support them with our Vengeances we found that they had been dropped at points which were beyond our range. We could not fly there and back with the fuel that we carried in our aircraft. While this was going on, the Japanese were moving up towards Imphal and by the end of March, they had approached Imphal from the north as well. So in the months of April, May and June, based as we were at Silchar, we did most of our bombing against the Japanese who were trying to occupy Imphal.
By June and July 1944, Nos. 6 and 8 Squadrons respectively were withdrawn from this front. The Squadrons that replaced them were No. 4 based at Feni and No. 9 based at Comilla. They worked through the difficult monsoon weather. Their aircraft, the Hurricanes, were modified by fixing bomb racks under the wings as San Ldr Majumdar had done to his Lysanders and they bombed the enemy supply lines in order to make their existence on alien soil difficult.
The attack on Assam was launched early in March with three divisions and soon the Japanese crossed the river Chindwin. The 5th Indian Division was flown to Imphal and the 7th Indian Division to Dimapur. Some other troops were also concentrated there. Even with all these troops, the situation at Imphal was bad. But the plight of Kohima further north, with only about 3,500 soldiers, was much worse. The city was
THE BURMA CAMPAIGN WORLD WAR II
NOT TO SCALE
INDIA
CHINA
Tezpur
Jorhat
fighters-and they were giving ground support to the Army. We were based further back in Silchar and were called out to bomb the Japanese wherever they could be located and wherever our Army was fighting them. We went to places like Kohima and Fort White and to Kalewa and other places on the Chindwin river well beyond the Indian border. The months of April, May and most of June were taken up in dealing with the Japanese of this area. We were trying to get into Imphal and we were not alone in this. The RAF squadrons, also flying Vengeances, were doing the same. Two RAF squadrons and ourselves (No. 7) flew from Silchar while two RAF squadrons and No.1 Indian squadron (Arjan Singh’s) flew from Imphal-a total of six, four RAF and two IAF were responsible for dealing with the Japanese in that area. Meanwhile Imphal was being supplied by air because the Japanese had cut all the roads leading into it. Dakota aircraft were being used for that.
This precarious condition lasted till almost the end of June when the forces from these two areas managed finally to break through their respective seiges and join up on 23 June-a memorable day of much relief. Visiting the war cementery at Kohima is an experience of sadness as well as pride. The headstones of the graves of young men record the details of the casualties, the ages are sixteen upwards; their hopes and their futures lie buried with them. The Japanese casualties were also heavy, around 4000 perhaps more. Why did they have to come all this way to lose their lives in this alien country? War is a heartless. senseless, cruel game.
Kohima
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Sylhet
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CHINDWIN R
Lalaghari phai the Aljala. Starnu
IRRAWADOY
Lashio
( White
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Comilla am Kolewa Foni
Fort Bo De Chittagong
Myingyan Cox’s Bazar
Maungdaw
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• Melktla
Akyab
Myebon
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IRRAWADDY
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BURMA
THAILAND
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The squadron which stayed for the longest period in the battle area, fourteen months at a stretch, was No.1 with San Ldr Arjan Singh (who later bacame Air Chief Marshal—the third Indian CAS) as the CO. His leadership had a distinct style; quiet courage, no flamboyance, firmness but with a ready smile. He and his boys were the heroes of Imphal. The squadron had already had a tour of duty with Sqn Ldr K. K. Majumdar. After rest, re-equipment and the necessary training in the NWFP they had returned to the Burma front, to Imphal, with Hurricanes in February 1944. San Ldr Arjan Singh was awarded the DFC on the field of battle. Lord Mountbatten flew into Imphal after the Japanese had been thrown back and at a cerenony, pinned the DFC on Arjan. He had done a great job.
Among the many contributions made by No. 7 Squadron, an important one was bombing the supplyline of the Japanese on the Kalewa-Tiddim-Road and another major one was the accurate bombing and destruction of the bridge on the Manipur river on the Imphal-Tiddin road which I did in very bad weather on 11 June.
By June the monsoon had set in and No. 7 Squadron was withdrawn to Ranchi in Bihar where we were to be re-equipped with Mosquito aircraft. This was a twin-engine aircraft, very fast and it carried bombs and guns. However, it was made of plywood and the laminations of the timber came off in hot and humid climate; eventually the RAF reported that the aeroplane was not safe and it was grounded in 1944.
In June 1944 when we were moving from Kumbhirgram to Ranchi with a refuelling halt at Calcutta, San Ldr Hem Chaudhury was by then posted out, Flt Lt Erlic Pinto (later he became Air Marshal and died in a helicopter accident in 1963 in Kashmir) had his flight and I led mine. On 12 June, when we took off
BAY
OF
BENGAL
TENAS SERIN
BANGKOK
Ours was the other IAF squadron to go into action. We were bombers. No.1 were flying Hurricanes
from Calcutta for Ranchi, we ran into an terrifying storm, with clouds reaching up to about 40,000 ft. We could see the rainfall over a wide area including Ranchi. I did not want to go back to Calcutta so we landed at an airfield which we had seen on the way, it had very big aeroplanes, obviously bombers, parked there. When we landed, we were guided by soldiers in jeeps, carrying stenguns and automatic rifles, to a remote part of the airfield where our aircraft were allowed to park. We switched off and they called out the commander, that is myself, and placed me under arrest. That was a very strange way to be greeted in another base in your own country! Apparently it was an American base and they said that the Commanding General wanted to see me. I was taken to his office. He said that we had no business to land on this airfield. It was Purulia, the airfield is called Chhara and the town nearby is Purulia, on the border of Bihar and Bengal. It was obviously a secret airfield. I told him that I wanted to go to Ranchi, one flight was already there and had it not been for the thick storm that was going on above I would also have gone to Ranchi. But since this airfield was available, I had landed.
“You and all your men will be put in the lock-up,” he declared brushing aside my explanation.
We were put into vans and driven to a lock-up. It was a fairly large area with barrack blocks in front and a swimming pool and a cinema. There to my surprise I found that we were not the only people who had been locked up. There were some British Brigadiers, RAF officers, men and officers of the Indian Army and even some Americans-a matter of some consolation. There was food and drinks and games, the cinema and the pool but we were not allowed to make any telephone calls. I asked to be allowed to tell my other people at Ranchi that we had landed there. He said: “No, you are not allowed to tell anybody. There is no telephone, no communication.” And so it went on. There was nothing we could do.
That night we heard the roar of aeroplanes and one after another the big bombers that we had seen but which we could not identify, we had not seen them before, took off and began to return some time about mid-day the next day. It was 13 June. After that the General came to us. “I apologise to you, gentlemen”, he said, “for having treated you the way I did yesterday. The fact is that last night we, the American Air Force, mounted our first land-based raid on a target in Japan.”
He explained that the target they had bombed was Yawata; an Iron and Steel making firm in southern Japan. The aircraft was the B 29 Super Fortress bomber which till the day before was a secret weapon and it had been brought only to two bases in India and nowhere else. So no photographs of it had appeared anywhere, no news had been given out that such a bomber existed. “But last night you heard these bombers taking off from here for Canton in China. From Canton they went to Japan, did their bombing and came back. Until this mission had been completed we did not want word to get out of here. We wanted to take the Japanese completely by surprise and we did succeed in that. We have done a good deal of damage. We have lost some aircraft. The aircraft is no longer a sceret. You can now talk about it, and you can do what you like and go wherever you want to.” He apologised again and said that it was a most memorable event.
When we made contact we found that our Co, San Ldr A.B. Awan, flying from Calcutta to Ranchi “following the railway line”, got lost. He did turn up at Ranchi a couple of days later and was very angry
with all of us for not following him. He said that the squadron was not fit for operational duty and that he was going to report the matter to Air Headquarters. That is the last that the squadron saw of him.
At Ranchi, we discovered that the Mosquito fighter-bomber was not to be given to us or to anybody else here because it was falling apart. We would be converted on to Huriscanes. The Vengeance by that time was considered not a very effective aeroplane. For one thing, it was large and clumsy, and it could not stand up to fighters like the Japanese Zero which was very agile and which could shoot down any number of Vengeances if ever they came up against them; fortunately we never met them. We were not escorted by fighters but there were always fighters, RAF fighters, Spitfires, in the air and a radar cover had been built up between India and Burma which was quite good so that our fighters knew when Japanese aircraft were in the air, in which case they warned us and we kept away from that area. The Japanese used to put in occasional fighter sorties against places like Imphal but never in any great strength. And the RAF Spitfires were capable of taking care of them. By November, No. 2 Squadron also came to that area with San Ldr Jaswant Singh as Co. The newly raised No. 10 also joined the battle. With the benefit of the air support, the Allied troops managed to push the Japanese back in this region.
I was given the rank of Squadron Leader from 21 June 1944 and the command of No. 7 Squadron. In November of that year we came back to Kohat near Peshawar with our Vengeances and converted to Hurricanes. These were the Hurricanes which were specially modified for fighter-bomber work. They were fitted with 20 mm cannons, four in each, and they could carry bombs, they carried cameras and were meant to be used in support of the Army. We did our conversion flying literally day and night. In March 1945 we went back to Imphal. By then the Japanese had been pushed back from there. No.1 Squadron which had been in Imphal right through 1944 had gone into northern Burma to Sinthe on the Irrawady river. They had to be relieved and we started our operations from there. By then the Indian Army was advancing. It had crossed the Chindwin river and started moving south. At the same time the Japanese were being pushed back from the Arakan coast eastwards. No. 7 Squadron gave support to 33 Corps of the Fourth Army under Lt Gen Sir Montagu Stafford. Our jobs consisted of doing reconnaissance flights looking out for the Japanese, taking photographs of points where our Army wanted to advance or where they wanted us to attack, indicating targets to us. There were two or three other RAF squadrons also at Sinthe which were doing the same job and we gradually moved on south. We moved from Sinthe to Mugwe, on the river Irrawady again, where we established a base. The RAF squadrons were also there, meant to provide fighter cover and do various jobs but our specific task was to support 33 Corps, which we did. I flew every day of the month and often twice day. In May, our Army began moving towards Rangoon; we photographed Rangoon “D” day minus two. One of our special jobs while doing aerial photography was to fly down the river every morning taking pictures of the river banks and then again the last thing in the evening. These photographs were developed in our photographic section and then the photo-interpreters went to work on them. They could estimate, for instance, from the number of boats on the west bank at one time and fewer at another when there were more on the east bank-as to approximately how many Japanese may have crossed over, specially during the night and in which direction they were going.
Another important task was to reconnoitre the road along which our people were to go and locate the strong points where the Japanese were entrenched. There I ran into an interesting experience. There is a hill called Mt Popa. It rises to about 2000 ft. and has a cave-temple dedicated to a king cobra—“Popa” means “cobra” in Burmese. This hill commanded the road that went south to Rangoon, the road that our Army was to take. So the Army asked for photographs of this particular hill and any defensive features around it. We went there and flew up and down taking photographs in such a way as to produce a big picture of that area. While we were doing this, there were shots-antiaircraft shells-being fired at us. We got a few shrapness in our aircraft but fortunately neither of our aircraft were shot down. We got back with the photographs and the Army was very pleased; they planned their advance accordingly.
In Delhi, after the war ended, a man came to see me asking for a driver’s job. I asked him what work he had done before and he said he had been with the Indian National Army under Subhash Bose. That interested me. I asked him what exactly he was doing there. He said he was a gunner. And where had he been a gunner? At Mt Popa!
Since our job consisted of flying low for photographs and reconnaissance, we were usually flying within range of the ground fire of Japanese troops and we lost a number of aircraft and pilots on that account.
We were flying down the Irrawady. The river has hills on either side of it. We did two or three trips uneventfully. Then one day, one of our sorties reported that the lead aircraft had run into a steel cable. What the Japanese had done overnight was to stretch steel cables from one side of the river to the other at roughly the height at which the aircraft would be flying. It was unfortunate that the lead pilot, K. R. Rao, was flying at precisely the height this cable was fixed. He was a very fine young man and an excellent pilot but he crashed and was killed.
Then there was Fg Offr Mathews from Kerala, a tall, trim man older than the others in the Squadron, and a very keen pilot. He had been a physical training instructor when he joined the Air Force. He and I were to go out on a sortie one afternoon. We had taken photographs in the morning. The routine was that photographs taken in the morning had to be developed, printed, put together and delivered the same afternoon and the people who took the photographs knew what they had taken and where to deliver them. We were going to deliver the photographs, flying our single-seater Hurricanes. I was the leader and Mathews was my number two. We took off, but soon after take off, he said that he was going back to base. He said something that sounded like a snake. I became very angry. We were on a job of work and this fellow wanted to pull out. Snake indeed! What nonsense! I thought to myself. But our discipline was very strict: No aircraft was to fly alone. There was always a chance of the enemy aircraft coming up and unless you had somebody watching your tail, you were likely to be shot down. So since Mathews turned back, I had to do the same. I landed and I found that he had taken his aircraft to the dispersal area. I took mine there too. We switched off our engines. By the time I got out I saw that Mathews was still sitting in the cockpit but he was throwing out what looked like bits of rubber tubing. I went close and discovered that he was actualıy throwing out bits of a snake.
As Mathews recounted the story, the snake came up from behind him over his left shoulder, went down his left leg, went forward, but was stopped by the strong steel bulkhead. It turned and came back up Mathews leg. When it found the joy-stick, it coiled itself around it may be a foot or so from Mathews, looking at him. Fortunately, Mathews, being from Kerala, knew a thing or two about snakes. He identified this one as an eye-picker. So he immediately put his goggles on. An eye-picker snake is not poisonous, he told us, but they pick out the eyes of animals that graze. With Mathews’ eyes protected by his glasses the snake remained coiled around the joy-stick. When Mathews landed, he coolly opened the door and asked for a pair of pliers-with which he cut up the snake into pieces and threw them out. I must admire his cool courage and remarkable presence of mind. In his place I might well have had a heart attack-or if not, jumped out of the cockpit and run for my life.
The same Mathews, we called him Budha as he was the oldest in the squadron, was out on a sortie another day. By then the Japanese were on the run. We were anxious to see that they did not get away by boat out into the open sea and to their ships so we used to do aerial recces in the delta area looking for Japanese ships. Mathews was in one of those sorties. His number two was Dolly Engineer, no relation of the Air Marshal Engineer brothers. Obviously, there were some Japanese hidden in the mangrove swamps. They shot Mathews’ aircraft which crashed into the swamp. Engineer reported it. The water was at low tide but he said that the water seemed to come up to the cockpit. So Engineer circled over the aircraft to see if the hood would open. There was no movement. Engineer came back and reported that Mathews was probably gone. We sent out more searches but got no news. Two weeks later ou troops entered Rangoon and a few days after that-on 23 May by which time we were based at an airfield called Maidavale– I received a message saying that a man had been picked up who had no clothing on him. He was obviously an Indian, not a Burmese, and he was wrapped in a parachute. He had been picked up by an Indian naval vessel in the delta area and brought to Rangoon. He had no identification mark on him. He had been left in the Army Hospital. Could he possibly be our man?
I flew down immediately to Rangoon, went to the Army-Hospital and I found our friend Budha Mathews! He said that when his aircraft was shot down, he was in a state of shock. He was injured also, badly at the back and also his ribs and arms. He could not open the cockpit hood and he could see the water. He knew that he was at the mercy of the sea and that the rising tide would soon drown him. He was conscious, but unable to do a thing. After half an hour or so a little canoe appeared with an American in it. He opened the hood, pulled Mathews out, put him in the canoe and took him away to a little island where he had built a camp for himself well hidden in the mangrove swamp. He belonged to a Secret Service Force which the Americans had deployed in that area as they were also on the lookout for the Japanese. He had a wireless set and he was keeping track of how many Japanese were going in which direction. He saw an aeroplane which had RAF markings (at that time we did not have IAF markings) being shot down. So he went and rescued the pilot and found that he was an Indian.
Mathews was so badly injured that the American had to cut Mathews’ clothing in order to get him to his room and the only thing the American was left with to wrap him in was the parachute which Mathews
wore around him like a shirt or a chaddar (sheet). The American kept a lookout and when an Indian Naval vessel was going past, he managed to send it a signal. They picked up Mathews and he explained: “I am sorry I can’t identify him, but he was in an aeroplane which has now disappeared under the water. It was already fairly deep in the mud and when the tide came in, it washed the aircraft away.”
Normally the parachute should have gone back to the Parachute Section, but it was so blood-stained and damaged that he decided to keep it. Mathews got three quarters of it and I got one quarter, enough to make me a shirt which I wore for many years. It was truly a miraculous escape and rescue! At the end of war, Mathews joined Indian Oil and was their district manager in Jodhpur (another big Air Force station!) when he died. He was a fine man, a man of few words but an excellent pilot, a good companion and a good friend.
Rangoon was taken on the 3 May 1945. Our squadron had nothing more to do there. By the end of May, the rains came. The General Officer Commanding 33 Corps presented us a trophy a small model of a pagoda, with the inscription: “From XXXIII Indian Corps with most appreciative thanks for the excellent support given during the Burma Campaign.” Air Vice Mshl Vincent, CO 221 Group, also came personally to thank and congratulate No. 7 Squadron.
When we were sent back from Burma we first came to Chittagong, then we moved to Quetta in Baluchistan in the west, waiting for the war to end. Then we were moved to Lahore where, since the squadron had nothing else to do, we were given the job of spraying DDT to cut down malaria. We did some of the spraying in Delhi where there was and still is a Malaria Institute and one of our aircraft, I believe, sprayed the Malaria Institute so effectively that it killed all the larvae that the Institute had been breeding in cages in order to study the growth of mosquitoes. I suppose they got them again. Another detachment went to Peshawar. After the first day’s spraying around Peshawar, where there was a lot of malaria, a large group tribesmen, armed with guns and other weapons, arrived at the Air Force Station and demanded to see the Commanding Officer saying, “You must not spray anything on our fields.” I explained that this was for their good and that we are trying to wipe out malaria. They said, “No, we know that you are trying to sterilize us to prevent us from having any more children. You stop that or we will shoot your aircraft down.” So that was stopped.
THE PANTS WERE REMOVED BY 7th COURSE PILOTS JANUARY 3rd 1942
We were still in Lahore when the war ended.
The activities of Squadrons 1, 6, 7 and 8 I have already related in some detail. During the last winter of the war, that is from December 1944 onwards till the end of the war, the majority of IAF Squadrons
“WHAT? ONLY 10,000 HOURS LAST MONTH?.. BAD SHOW, WHAT?!
were very active and effective around Akyab where the Allied initiative succeeded in dislodging the Japanese and driving them back eastwards and southwards. Squadrons 2, 3, 4, 9 and 10 were busy here and 8 reappeared on the scene flying their newly acquired Spitfires which were a considerable improvement on the Hurricanes in power, speed, range as well as weapon system-the Spitfire was one of the heroes of the Battle of Britain. The combined effort of the Allied Army, Navy and Air Force first enabled them to occupy the islands off this coast such as Ramree and Myebon, secure the sealanes to the area, which helped the supply line tremendously, and then press on to the mainland and drive the Japanese out. Even after the fall of Rangoon, there were pockets of Japanese resistance which had to be cleared up. No. 8 Squadron helped the Army to do that. They were the last Indian squadron to leave Burma.
Statistically speaking, “the I.A.F. pilots flew over 16,000 sorties, involving over 24,000 operational flying hours over Burma” of which 4,813 sorties involving 7,219 flying hours went to the credit of No. 1 Squadron alone, spread over their long 14-month stay. No. 7 Squadron, in its second tour of operations, arrived in Burma on 26 March 1945. During April, they contributed 1,033 hours of flying and in May 754 hours. April and May combined, “they had more flying hours than any other Squadron on the Central Burma front”, and serviceability of their aircraft was “97% for April and 99.43% for May.” A great achievement specially under those difficult conditions.
Pilots in an air force form the cutting edge of the sword. They have to take the maximum risk and they earn the maximum glory. But flying depends a great deal directly on maintenance and two names stand out in that field-Harjinder Singh (later AVM) of No. 1 and Bhaskaran of No. 7 Squadron. They personally, and the teams they led, were invaluable for the standard of achievement of the squadrons. But in the total war effort there were thousands of people who contributed a lot-mostly anonymously. Without these backstage workers, the main actors would never have been able to perform. They worked in so many different branches such as engineering-mechanical or aeronautical, electrical, electronic, signals and radar, equipment, and stores. There were thousands of items provided, big and small, from things for daily life to the most sophisticated, expensive, diverse items for the defence of the country. Administration, transport and communication, the medical branch- field doctors and nursing orderlies, the base hospitals—all played their part. Each was indispensable and all the people providing these services did so unobtrusively. As a mark of appreciation by the British Government His Majesty the King Emperor was pleased to bestow the prefix “Royal” to the Indian Air Force on 12 March 1945.
During this period the total amount of operational flying I logged in 1944 and 1945 came to something like 210 hours and in due course, the government thought fit to award me the Distinguished Flying Cross. The citation reads:
San Ldr Lal has completed a considerable number of operational sorties. He is the Commanding Officer of a squadron which has been employed on photographic reconnaissance work in support of the Fourteenth Army in the Irrawady valley. He has shown exceptional qualities and keenness and has completed many hazardous sorties in the wake of strong enemy opposition. He has frequently penetrated deep into enemy territory in search of important information. By his coolness and determination, San Ldr Lal has set a fine example to all his pilots.
I was glad to get it, but when I recall the friends who were killed in that war I would, quite happily, give up the DFC if they could come back.
Part II The Formative Years
Independence
WITH THE END OF the problems of war came the proplems of peace. One exciting event of those days was the trial of the captured Indian National Army—that part of the Indian Army which had been taken prisoner by the Japanese and then persuaded by them under the influence and leadership of Netaji Subhash Bose, a patriotic but controversial figure, to fight the British and the Indian forces in Burma in the hope that was the way India would be able to throw off the British yoke and become independent. The names that appeared in the headliness of the newspapers were Shah Nawaz, Dhillon, Saigal and Lakshmi Swaminathan. Tents came up in the shadow of the Red Fort in Delhi to lodge them and their numerous followers. Lawyers of the eminence of Pandit Nehru and Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru along with some others formed the defence council. Whether one approves or not of what the INA did, it was a stirring affair.
The majority of others belonging to the Defence forces were busy with the mundane, humdrum business of earning a living. A number of private airlines sprang up and some Air Force men found employment there. There is more money in civil aviation than in the Air Force, just as there is more money in the merchant marine than in the Navy but satisfaction depends on what one is looking for, which need not necessarily be a lot of money. Some of these men did not take to the way of life and work (or dearth of it) in civil flying and they returned to the fold of the Air Force. Technicians did not find it too difficult to find jobs elsewhere. Many of us opted for, and received, our permanent commissions.
My squadron days were over, an unforgettable part of my life. I was posted to “manning” at Air Headquarters, as it was then called. On the one hand demobilisation was going on. But now that the compulsion of war was over, there was a more discriminating recruitment drive keeping in view the longterm and the more permanent issues. By August 1946 I was posted to Calcutta to take over the main interService recruiting centre for eastern India.
The office was lodged in a magnificent building in south Calcutta. I took over from an elderly British officer who gave me a somewhat sceptical, disapproving look-the wisdom of age being critical of the callowness of youth, I thought, for I was only twenty-nine. The office was impressive. A huge well polished table, wall-to-wall carpeted floor, the chair was high backed and ornate like a mini-throne. I was fairly pleased with life in general. Perhaps it was a carry over of the post-war sense of relief and euphoria. On the domestic front, Calcutta being my wife’s home town, the traditional Indian fuss was being made by her family, friends and relations over the son-in-law, although she herself was yet to arrive.
On my first day in office, I sat waiting for my staff to come and report to me. I had tilted the chair back a bit, and was swaying gently, thinking how good life was. My subordinates, one each from the three services, trooped into the room and saluted smartly. CRASH! My chair went right over backwards. I landed flat on the floor, my ungainly legs (the feet in wellpolished shoes) stuck out above the big, gleaming table. The saluting men paused for a while, not knowing what they should do in such an unprecedented situation! Of course they rushed around the table and helped me to my feet. Obviously the matter was reported to higher quarters and I was posted back to Air Headquarters with immediate effect.
By December 1946 I was sent to England to attend a senior commander’s course. It was a severe winter with lots of snow, burst water-pipes, badly fitted barrack doors and windows which rattled in the winter gale and let the icy blasts in, a shortage of power and fuel. In fact, there was a shortage of almost every thing in post-war England in its period of recovery from a hardwon war. For three days I went across to Germany to visit Celle and Hamburg, at the invitation of a friend, an RAF officer. Compared to what I had just left behind in UK, the living conditions of the Allied occupation forces in Germany were luxurious. Of course for the Germans it was not so. The exchange value for such luxury items as a bar of chocolate was out of all proportion to it’s price! I returned home on the eve of Independence.
Meanwhile, Churchill had to retire from the prime minister-ship in spite of having led the country to victory in the war. The Labour party came into power and the new prime minister, Clement Attlee, in response to the insistent demand for independence in India, declared in February 1947, that Indians should have their independence by June 1948. In about a month’s time, Lord Louis Mountbatten was persuaded to be the Viceroy and Governor-General of India. If Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre’s research is to be taken seriously, Lord Louis fixed the date of transfer of power to India quite arbitrarily, off-the-cuff so to say, for 14/15 August 1947. Many questioned whether four-and-a-half months would be adequate to make the necessary arrangements, to take adequate precautions for the upheaval in partitioning the subcontinent. It would be no easy task to tear apart the organs, bones, muscles and sinews, arteries and viens of a country that from time immemorial, inspite of differences of religion, caste and creed and occasional politically instigated flareups, had lived as one body. The mass hysteria, the blood bath, the mass exodus of population that followed was far worse than the upheaval expected as is all too well known. The solitary transport squadron of the IAF recently formed with Dakotas contributed its best efforts along with every other available means of transport in the country.
While yet trying to cope with the situation the government had yet to take shape and come to grips with it. Ours is a parliamentary form of government with elected representatives of the people exercising close control over the development, direction and employment of the Armed Forces. The preeminent position of the civil power has never been questioned in our country. The higher defence organisation is the interface between civil power and its military apparatus. The cabinet is answerable only to the Parliament. Within the limits of that accountability, it formulates defence policy, defines military aims, provides resources for the creation and maintenance of the armed forces. In the early days these responsibilities were entrusted to the Defence Committee of the Cabinet, set up on the British model.
undivided IAF three were handed over to Pakistan-two of fighters and one of transport. Several of the important stations where the IAF had come into being and then grew up through its difficult stages of training and experience, its first encounter with real life enemy against whom they had to prove themselves, their first achievements, were left behind with Pakistan-Karachi, Risalpur, Peshawar, Miranshah, Kohat, Lahore (Walton). Not all the Muslims of the IAF believed in a theocratic state, many did not feel insecure or persecuted and they stayed on.
It fell to Air Mshl Elmhirst to organise a truncated IAF into a viable albeit a very small, fighting force. And fight they had to do before there was an opportunity to settle down.
Later, after the conflict with China in 1962, that was replaced by a larger Emergency Committee of the Cabinet to which the Political Affairs Committee is the successor. While the composition of the committees has varied to some extent, the Prime Minister, the Defence Minister and the Finance Minister have been common to them all. The Chiefs of Staff are in attendance when military matters are discussed. It is at this point, at the highest level of government, that the heads of the three services learn, at first hand, of the wishes and decisions of the country’s political leaders.
The principal link between the Cabinet and the military is the Defence Minister to whom the Service Chiefs report. His secretariat, headed by a senior civil servant, the Defence Secretary, deals with the innumerable details of finance, administration and supply that concern civil and military officials at all levels of the defence hierarchy.
The relationship that exists between the Defence Minister and the Service Chiefs is two-fold. The Chiefs are the principal military advisers to the Defence Minister and are, at the same time, responsible to him for the proper management and efficiency of each of the services: they combine advisory and executive functions. These roles are reflected in the working of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, which is meant to study military problems and advise on the action to be taken. Once the Government approves of what is to be done, the Committee becomes a planning and coordinating body. The fact that the Chiefs are accountable for the action taken on the basis of their own advice and plans makes for what may be called “responsible planning”, a salutary practice that can do much to bring a sense of realism to military thinking.
Apart from the Defence Secretary, a military secretary to the Cabinet is also appointed and officers from all three services constitute the secretariat.
Under the Chiefs of Staff Committee worked the Joint Intelligence Committee until the 1962 war with China. It was then reformed with wider representation and brought under the direct control of the Cabinet Secretariat where it has access to intelligence from every source, civil and military, internal and external.
Another Committee that worked under the Chiefs of Staff was the Joint Planning Committee, consisting of the Director of Operations of the Army and the Director of Policy and Plans of the Air Force and the Navy.
The first three Air Chiefs of independent India were from the RAF-Air Marshals Sir Thomas W. Elmhirst, KBE, CB, AFC, Sir Ronald Ivelaw Chapman, KBE, CB, DFC, AFC, and Sir Gerald Ernest Gibbs, KB, CIE, MC. We were lucky to have as Chiefs of Air Staff men of such calibre, such integrity and experience. Sir Thomas made it clear at the very beginning that the Air Force was to be an independent service and not merely an adjunct of the Army, although the Army is the oldest service the world over. Air Vice Mshl Mukerjee was second in command till March 1954. Air Cdre A.M. Engineer was put in charge of personnel and organisation and Air Cdre R.H.D. Singh of technical services and equipment. No.1 Operational Group was put under the charge of the dynamic and able leadership of Air Cdre Meher Singh and the Training Group at Bangalore under Air Cdre Narendra. Of the ten precious squadrons of the undivided IAF three were handed over to Pakistan-two of fighters and one of transport. Several of the
Kashmir 1947-48: The First Round
A PART FROM THE British Raj in India, there were 565 princely States varying in size from a few square miles to a few thousand square miles. They were ruled, or misruled, by petty chieftains or rajas or maharajas, with whom the British had special treaties. The British appointed their own political agents in each of these states. When India gained freedom, these treaties were abrogated and the states were given the choice of joining either India or Pakistan. Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel was not just a politician but a statesman of shrewdness, sagacity and ability. He succeeded in persuading most states, depending on their geographical location, to join India. The three states which did not opt for either Dominion were Kashmir, Hyderabad and Junagadh.
The ruler of Jammu and Kashmir, Maharja Hari Singh, was a Hindu, but his state had and still has a majority Muslim population. He sat on the fence till the last moment, possibly with the vainglorious and unreal ambition of being an independent state.
Pakistan, as can be expected, had an eye on Kashmir. Instead of invading Kashmir outright with regular forces, Pakistan sent in about 15,000 tribal Pathans-they have a natural predilection for fighting, whether with others, or amongst themselves-under the clarion call of Jehad or a religious war of aggression by Muslims. Paksitan financed the expedition, armed the tribals with modern weapons, trained them and provided some leadership from the Pakistan Army. The preparations went on through September and the earlier part of October of 1947. It was called Operation Gulmarg and was led by a Maj Gen Akbar Khan, under the pseudonym of General Jebel Tariq, the original Moroccan name for Gibraltar. These hordes poured into Kashmir by the third week of October. Maj Gen Douglas Gracy, C-in-C, Pakistan Army, informed the C-in-C Indian Army, Lt Gen Sir Rob Lockhart, of these happenings on the afternoon of 24 October. Lt Gen Lockhart informed the Viceroy, Lord Louis Mountbatten. Another six hours lapsed before Prime Minister Nehru was informed. The delay of each hour was costly to India, that much time for action being lost. Muzaffarabad and Domel had been invaded and occupied on 22 October. By the 24th the invaders were at Baramula, 35 miles west of Srinagar. They cut the power line to Srinagar from the power house at Mahura and plunged the capital city in darkness.
The Maharaja lost his illusions about independent Kashmir. His state forces were totally inadequate to check the invasion. He received this sad news at his Dusserah Durbar. Late at night on 24 October he asked the Indian Government for help. This help could not be given legally till he acceded to India. Mr. V. P. Menon, the able lieutenant of Sardar Patel in dealing with the States, was sent to Srinagar the next day along with Col K. S. Katoch and Wg Cdr H. C. Dewan. They were to make their own appraisal of the
along with Col K. S. Katoch and Wg Cdr H. C. Dewan. They were to make their own appraisal of the situation. The Maharaja signed the Instrument of Accession on 26 October and Mr. Menon advised H. H. Hari Singh to move from Srinagar to Jammu.
The good road from the plains of Punjab to Kashmir lay in Pakistan from Rawalpindi through the pine-covered hills via Murree, down the slopes to Domel on the river Jhelum through Kohala, Uri, Baramula to Srinagar. The road from India through Jammu at that time was not good, the tunnel at Banihal pass was built much later in 1955. To send the Army by that road would have taken too long. The threat needed to be met as soon as possible, the need was literally of the hour. Hence, there was no other way to render help but by an airlift of troops. Not that would be easy either because the airstrips both at Srinagar and Jammu, made for the small, light, personal aircraft of the Maharaja, were short and unpaved. There were no navigational or landing aids, no crash tenders, no proper refuelling facilities. High ranges, often covered with clouds or mist would have to be negotiated by Dakotas with their limited ceiling capacity. Each landing and each take-off would raise a cloud of dust thereby reducing visibility. To airlift the number of troops and their equipment which would be effective in dealing with the situation meant several flights in quick succession, hardly allowing time for the dust to settle down. If there was any mishap, even this apology for a runway would be blocked, delaying further flights indefinitely. The enemy was, may be, five miles away. The Government of India or the Government of Jammu and Kashmir were not even sure that the enemy was not already at the airport! Twenty-eight sorties were flown on the very first day of the operation, that is, on 27th. The first contingent to arrive in Srinagar was the 1st Sikhs commanded by it Col Dewan Ranjit Rai. He and his men tried to stop the invaders from advancing from Baramula to Srinagar to fight a delaying action. He lost his life in this battle and his troops had to withdraw to Sri nagar to regroup.
An entire brigade, 161 under Brig L. P. Sen, DSO, was airlifted within five days. Dakotas did the transportation and fighters and fighter-bombers, Spitfires, Tempests and even Harvards gave ground support to the Army-then and right through the year. The Airlines, their pilots, crew and technicians were also requisitioned to help with the airlift and they did a magnificent job. Air Mshl Elmhirst was at the helm of this emergency project and Air Cdre Meher Singh was at the head of the Operational Group. In the history of aviation, there are few events to match this achievement.
It was difficult for Spitfires to operate effectively from airfields outside Kashmir because of the limited range of the aircraft. It was even more so with Harvards. So these two types had to be based at Srinagar. Refuelling was a major problem, at times fuel had to be drained from the Dakotas to supply the fighters. Then a maintenance unit had to be set up at Srinagar airfield. Tempests were able to operate with more efficiency from Ambala or Amritsar.
On 3 November, a decisive battle was fought in the immediate vicinity of Srinagar airfield where the enemy managed to launch a surprise attack. Their numerical superiority was overwhelming. A Company Commander of Kumaonis, Maj Sharma was killed. At this stage, the Spitfires came to the rescue of the Army and saved the day and the airport. The tribal hordes and the Pakistanis beat a retreat. The next day’s
combined operation-the Air Force using the brigade commander’s maps! By the 7th, when an Indian armoured column managed to reach Srinagar by road, our troops took the offensive and went forward on the Srinagar-Baramula-Uri road. The main fighting took place at Shallateng. Baramula was cleared on the 8th and Uri on the 13th, although this last area changed hands even after this date. At each step the Army had the help and cooperation of the Air Force-in reconnaissance as well as fighting, the aircraft using rockets, guns as well as bombs.
This first Pakistani offensive in Kashmir, “The First Round”, was carefully planned and had the advantage of surprise as well. It was a simultaneous three-pronged drive. As one prong took the main Domel-Kohala-Uri-Baramula-Srinagar road, a second one was active at the Pakistan border area at Kotli, Jhangar, Naushera, Rajauri, Mirpur, Bhimber to the south of Poonch and the third at Rawalkot to the north-west of Poonch. In some of these places there were refugees who had come over from West Punjab. Some of the local inhabitants joined the Pakistanis, may be for the sake of earning benediction in a fanatic Jehad and perhaps also in the hope of loot-a good way to combine the spiritual with the temporal. Some of the Muslim elements of the State Forces, implicitly trusted by the Maharaja, treacherously murdered their Hindu comrades-in-arms.
The enemy had the advantage of initiative and surprise as well as easy access by road from their main base in Pakistan. Their strategy was to surround and isolate each place, wipe out the State garrison and Hindu population and then occupy it. At Rajauri alone about 30,000 people were massacred on 12 November. This strategy also served the twin purpose of keeping Indian troops and State Forces away from the State capital and the main valley of Kashmir. At all these besieged places the Air Force had to do the job of fighting with the enemy as well as supply-dropping urgently needed items of ammunition, medical goods and other requirements. Rawalkot was lost to the enemy, Mirpur and Kotli were in a precarious, desperate position. And all this was going on at the same time as the fighting on the main Srinagar-Baramula-Uri-Domel road. By mid-November the Indian Army was in a position to send troops to these places and fight the enemy there.
On 3 November, a battle was won by the tribals and Pakistanis at a place called Mendhar, south of Poonch. Their next target was Poonch, situated south of the Haji Pir Pass.
Troops under Lt Col Pritam Singh managed to reach poonch but the enemy were well dug-in on all the hills around Poonch at the vantage points. Poonch is situated to the north of Bhimber, Mirpur, Rajauri, Kotli Mendhar, south-west of Srinagar, south-east of Bagh. It became the scene of the largest siege and battle in Kashmir which tested the courage, tenacity and guts of the both the Army and the Air Force.
In Delhi members of the highest planning body, the Defence Committee of the Cabinet, Gen Sir Rob Lockhart and Lt Gen Russell, GOC-in-C Delhi and Punjab, appraised the situation in Poonch to be untenable and therefore, recommended evacuation. Panditji was adamant that Poonch was not to be given up to the enemy but the two British generals thought its defence to be a “suicidal” venture. It was an unusual circumstance: in the line of command and control in the Army during these operations Gen Sir
unusual circumstance: in the line of command and control in the Army during these operations Gen Sir Rob Lockhart, the C-in-C Army, decided what the Army in Jammu and Kashmir should do but he was prohibited from setting foot in that state.
To begin with, Poonch had no airfield, not even an airstrip. So arms and ammunitions, food and medical stores had to be airdropped, not only for the troops but for 40,000 refugees as well. Part of these valuable, vital supplies were lost because all that was dropped could not be recovered in that very restricted area. So Lt Col Pritam Singh set about making an airstrip on which Dakotas could land. With hardly any mechanical equipment available for a job of that size, service personnel helped by the refugees, built an airstrip on the J & K Militia parade ground. It was 600 yds long, and it took six days to build. The Air Force fighters kept vigil over and around the area so that surrounding enemy did not, could not, interfere with the progress of the work. In the second week of December when the strip was ready, the intrepid and expert pilot Air Cdre Meher Singh landed the first Dakota there, carrying Air Vice Mshl Subroto Mukerjee and a large load of essential supplies. This short airstrip was on the flat top of a hill with rivers running on three sides and a precipice on the fourth. The approaches were steep. Landing safely there needed skilful, careful flying; the pilots also had to brave the enemy all around and risk their small arms fire which riddled the Dakotas with bullets. No. 12 Squadron pilots managed to do the job very well indeed. They flew not just for a day or a week but the whole year round. In the first week they averaged a dozen trips per day; on the return journey they evacuated casualties and refugees.
One of the first things landed there was a mountain battery of guns. But the enemy soon brought up field guns with longer range. So by the middle of March Lt Col Pritam Singh asked for two twenty-five pounder guns. Dakotas carrying these guns found it extremely difficult to land by day, in full view of the enemy lobbing shells at the airstrip. As though it was not a difficult enough task by day, Air Cdre Meher Singh decided that the landing would have to be attempted at night, with the help of a few oil-lamps. Everybody down the line cooperated and they succeeded. The names that I remember particularly in this connection are the late Wg Cdr K.L. Bhatia (ex 7 Sqn, CO Transport Wing at Agra) Fg Offr L.S. Grewal and San Ldr D.E. Pushong. Air Cdre Meher Singh’s imaginative innovation was to convert some five Dakotas to carry and deliver bombs, as was done earlier with Lysanders by San Ldr K.K. Majumdar in the Burma campaign (this was also done later with AN 125 in 1971). Meher Baba was awarded the Maha Vir Chakra as were Wing Commanders M.M. Engineer and H.S. Moolgavkar. Vir Chakras were awarded to Wg Cdr K.L. Bhatia and also Squadron Leaders S.B. Naronha and Zafar Shah who commanded No.7 and 10 Squadron respectively. The Indian Army finally managed to relieve poonch at the end of November 1948.
The checkerboard of Kashmir operations was so complicated, there were actions going on at so many different places at the same time, that it is difficult to visualise the totality in a chronological pattern. When the prolonged “Punching Operation” was going on, several other battles were being fought simultaneously. During December 1947 the Army and Air Force had managed to clear the sensitive area of Chhamb (which later suffered the brunt of Pakistani attack in two successive Indo-Pak wars as well). Battle raged in many of the places mentioned earlier right through the winter. By the end of January and
Location 70
operations would have been very different if it were not for the Air Force. And thanks to personalities like Wg Cdr M.M. Engineer, who had the asset of a friendly disposition, the inter-Service relationship was good. The events leading to the airlift of troops to Leh in May 1948 are best related in his own words:
The Air Force, as usual, gave full ground support. The battle was won by the Indians. Unfortunately Brig Osman was later killed in action on 3 July at Jhangar.
At the end of winter, another operation was a two-pronged drive towards Muzaffarabad, the enemy headquarters. One axis was along the valley of the Kishenganga, through Tithwal in the north, the second along the main Srinagar-Domel road further south. Tithwal was taken by our troops in a month’s time. The other column down the main road failed to fulfil its objective
Further north, the Pakistanis occupied Guraiz in the Kishenganga valley for a while but the Indian forces succeded in winning it back by June. Later the Air Force visited Gilgit airfield and put the wireless station there out of action; they left their visiting card on Chilas airport as well in this region.
of the op.
Moreover,
To the east of the Kashmir valley lies the district of Ladakh with its headquarters at Leh on the banks of the Indus. In contrast to the verdant valley this area is stark and barren-a replica of a moonscape. The rocks in some places are tinged with unusual, beautiful colours-light shades of yellow, mauve, maroonmay be due to their mineral contents. Cultivation is possible only along parts of the river where small villages cluster and grow their crops and some fruits, mainly apricots. Buddhism is the predominant religion amongst the inhabitants; monasteries such as Remis, the Gumpa at Leh and the famous Lamayaru between Kargil and leh with their valuable treasure of Buddhist art stand witness to this. At this time, the handful of State forces that were in the north, in places such as Baltistan, evacuated their posts and moved south into Leh.
On 24 May, taking Maj Ger K.S. Thimayya, GOC 19 Division as his passenger, Meher Baba negotiated the mountains towering upto 24,000 ft. In his ancient Dakota, with no de-icing facilities, no pressurisation, no route maps, he reached Leh height 11,500 ft above sea level, and put his aircraft down deftly on an improvised strip constructed by a Ladakhi engineer, S. Narboo. It was apparent that there was no way out but another big airlift operation if the Indian Army was to reach the emergency spot in time along with their weapons and equipment, food, clothing, medical stores, tents and whatever else was necessary. For the next three days the weather was bad. But on 28 May No. 12 Squadron was at its job. This height, and the rarified air on the bare mountains was an entirely new environment to fight in. Let alone fighting, even breathing, eating sleeping, are difficult till one gets acclimatised. Lack of oxygen causes loss of appetite, sleep and energy. Pulmonary oedema, which affects the lungs at that altitude, was another hazard to beware of. By the time the enemy arrived, our soldiers were ready for them. The Pakistanis lost and retreated. But they dug themselves in at the Zojila pass. And till that was cleared, there could be no road link between Srinagar and Leh. The road going eastward from Srinagar upto the pass and beyond was an old caravan route. It was improved and the Army column arrived with tanks, fought, routed the enemy and opened up the pass. By the end of November, the Indian Army reoccupied Dras and Kargil and cleared the entire road to Leh. And the Air Force was always there, doing the supply-dropping, bombing, strafing, in short, fighting alongside the Army, and wherever required. The story of the Kashmir operations would have been very different if it were not for the Air Force. And thanks to personalities like
du commi
It was early spring in Srinagar valley in 1958. The army had lost two platoons of gurkha who were sent earlier by Gen Kalwant Singh, GOC JAK DIV to relieve the garrison at Skardu. This is a fortress town located on the upper region of the Indus valley in Ladakh. The two Gurkha platoons were unfortunately ambushed before they could reach the flat region surrounding Skardu.
The Colonel of the State Forces commanding the Skardu fortress realised after the two Gurkha platoons were annihilated, that reinforcement from the Srinagar Valley was doubtful till the Dras Valley was cleared of the infiltrators. This clearance operation could only be undertaken when the Zojila pass was open. The Garrison Commander also realised that he could not get water or supplies if the Skardu fort was surrounded by the invaders.
Realising his predicament, he quickly prepared a fair weather airstrip beside the Fort in the hope that the Air Force Dakotas could land and bring reinforcement and supplies. Emergency wireless messages were received from the Garrison Commander requesting the Air Force to land Dakotas before the fort was encircled by the invaders. The Air Officer Commanding, Operational Group, Air Commodore Meher Singh, was of the opinion that the performance of Dakota Mark III to operate from high level airstrip 9500 ft was not known. Moreover, there was no oxygen for passengers and crew. Meher Singh did not think it advisable to accept the Skardu commitment due to aircraft performance limitation, although panic messages for help were also being received by Prime Minister Nehru.
Meher Singh, however, agreed to drop supplies by Tempest fighter-bombers which were operating in the area. The supply cannisters were dropped over the fort. Some of the supplies landed outside the Fort due to strong wind, but we were not informed whether they were retrieved. In any case it was doubtful whether the Garrison could be maintained solely by supplies dropped by Tempest aircraft.
The Fortress Commander finally surrendered to the invaders. We heard later that the garrison was sent to Pakistan, as prisoners of war.
After the capture of Skardu, the raiders planned to march onto Leh, the capital of Ladakh. A small force was despatched shortly thereafter towards Leh with two mountain guns.
In the meantime, the Army formation in J&K area was reorganised into two divisions, i.e., the Srinagar Division and the Jammu Division. General Thimayya was given command of Srinagar Division with his HQ at Baramula. His first priority was to save Leh. He could only achieve this aim with the cooperation of the Air Force.
General Thimayya realised that he had to convince Meher Baba that the fall of Leh would be a strategic blow for India. He also realised that Baba had a weakness for strawberries and cream which were
cease fire was agreed upon along the line of actual control as on 31 January 1949.
Baba was invited to Baramula. A red carpet reception was given to him. Thimayya and Baba settled down to a strawberries and cream party, under cherry trees in blossom beside the banks of the river Jhelum.
After the pleasantries were over, General Thimayya touched on the urgent requirement to save Leh. Meher Singh explained to the General that the Army did not realise the risk involved in flying and landing an aircraft at high altitude crossing two passes-Zojila and Fatula. The Dakota was never designed for this
role.
General Thimayya quickly retorted that he was prepared to risk his own life with the Air Force to save Leh. Meher Singh had no answer and agreed to pilot the first aircraft to Leh. Actually the strawberries were superfluous in making Meher Baba accept the challenge. The flight was a great success, and a small reinforcement of fully equipped troops was subsequently despatched by air to Leh, on good weather days.
Leh was saved, but it is debatable whether the Air Force could also have saved Skardu.
Both Meher Singh and Engineer won their MVCs for these operations.
In our military set-up, the system of command and control has its own imperatives. Its inherent checks and balances are its strong points but there are also certain difficulties which have to be guarded against, specially on the field of action where speed is one of the most important contributors to success. For example, when detachments from 161 Brigade were badly needed at Leh and Kargil, the planning was done at Srinagar but it had to be approved by Headquarter J&K Forces at Jammu, under Gen Kulwant Singh. In the process, the despatch of the detachment was delayed by several days. And yet, when a unit is in need of reinforcement of trained battle-hardened manpower or supplies whether of sophisticated, specialised equipment such as armour, artillery or signals equipment or simple but urgent needs such as clothing and footwear to protect the men from being frost-bitten and gangrene-ridden when fighting in the unaccustomed heights and cold climate, the provision has to be done by the higher formations. As in most walks of life, it is an important to judge where, when, how to strike a balance for optimum efficiency.
During this difficult period, the resignation of Air Cdre Meher Singh came as a grievous loss to the Air Force. He was no fool. He was fully conscious of his own rare abilities and his unique contributions. Any danger that he expected his officers and men to face, he first faced himself. But all this made him somewhat uncompromising, “a born dictator” as he himself admitted. There was a difference of opinion with his seniors in the Air Force and the government, and he felt that he was not being treated fairly, that his merit was not being recognised. Be that right or wrong as it may, he put in his papers in August. He was an uncut diamond, of sterling value but without the spit and polish of sophistication. The Defence Minister, Sardar Baldev Singh, accepted his resignation in September 1948. He took up a civil flying job and was killed in a flying accident on 11 March 1952. It was a great loss.
Finally the dispute over Kashmir between India and Pakistan was taken to the United Nations and a cease fire was agreed upon along the line of actual control as on 31 January 1949.
Coming of Age
THE WAR IN KASHMIR in 1948 continued. Fortunately Pakistan did not have resources enough to escalate it, to spread it to a wider region, nor had India for that matter. Immediately after the upheaval of partition it was the time to take stock of what one had and procure or produce what one had not. That is what the Air Force, at Air Headquarters, had to do-plan, procure and organise for the future. I was made the Director of Planning and Training but it was soon realised that the two together was too big a responsibility for any one person to do justice to either. So Arjan Singh, then Group Captain, was put in charge of training. The urgent need of the immediate future was to acquire aeroplanes.
Mr V.K. Krishna Menon was then Indian High Commissioner at London. He was known for his drive and “initiative”; with the benefit of hind-sight one may add “to a fault”. His tremendous hurry and impatience were both his strength as well as his weakness. It often led to achievements by which India benefited immensely. At other times it led to fiascos, some rather expensive which India could ill-afford. He had spent many years in England earlier and made his mark, amongst other things, as an active sympathiser of Labour: Mr. Attlee was “Clem” to him.
Whenever somebody is planning to buy something expensive, it is surprising how fast the word gets around. The prospective buyer does not have to go looking for agents. Getting to know that India was looking for aircraft to buy, a certain Mr. Potter materialised from somewhere and informed Mr. Menon that he had some aircraft to sell at very attractive reasonable terms. Mr. Menon informed the Government of India. Air Headquarters deputed me and Bhaskaran,the technical officer who had managed to keep serviceability of No.7 Squadron aircraft in Burma in April 1945 at 97% and during May at 99.43%— to scrutinise this offer and evaluate the aircraft.
The two of us arrived in London and called on Mr. Menon. Mr. Potter’s, or his company’s, name could not be traced in the telephone directory but he obviously kept track of us and he got in touch with us. When we wanted to see the aircraft, he said they were in the USA. When we asked for some literature on the subject, he gave us some that hardly added up to anything. The Air Adviser, Gp Capt Biren Sen Gupta, put the pamphlets away carefully in his briefcase for whatever they were worth. For reasons best known to himself, Mr. Menon in his briefing said that this offer had been received because of his personal prestige and influence. Therefore, we were not to report to our Ambassador in the USA but would be looked after by Mr. Potter. It was a secret mission; all we needed now was false moustaches and perhaps to carry a
banjo or a guitar and go about singing calypsos to be truly incognito!
The night we were to leave for America, the flight was late. We ate at a restaurant and left for Heathrow airport. By the time we had gone a little distance, the Air Adviser suddenly exclaimed, “Where is my briefcase?” He had forgotten it at the restaurant. We went back but by then the place had closed and it was totally dark. We were walking up and down, mulling over the situation, wondering what to do next when a cop on his beat turned up and enquired what we meant by sneaking around there at that time of the night. We told him. He had a good laugh and said all we could do was retrieve the briefcase the next morning when the place opened. But the plane on which we were booked was to leave that night! We pleaded that we were in a desperate situation and asked if he could not help at all.
He scanned the scene carefully. “There is one window ajar on the first floor and there is a drainpipe running next to it. I shall look the other way. Climb up the drain pipe and fetch your stuff. If you are up to any mischief, I shall put you in the lock-up straightaway.”
Biren attempted to climb the drainpipe. Up he would go with difficutly three or four feet and then slither down. I fared no better. Clearly we were no circus acrobats! The policeman was exasperated by our ineptitude. Hurling some unmentionable adjectives at us, he did the job himself extremely neatly, came down with the briefcase, examined the contents and let us go. I hope he was glad of a little adventure to relieve his routine and his boredom….
We reached America but where were the aircraft? Not in New York or Washington. Potter said they were on the west coast, in California near Los Angeles. We were given tickets for a train journey-Pullman if you please. We had not reported to our embassy. Our D.A. was eight precious dollars. Pooling our resources at the end of the journey we tried to give to the attendant what we considered a respectable tip. The man took a look at it and with a benign, amused grin said, “Keep it buddy, you’ll need it.”
We reached our destination, were lodged at a hotel and in due course were taken to see the elusive aeroplanes. It was an aeroplane “graveyard”, an area surrounded by barbed wire with a number of aircraft lying safely inside. Let alone fly them, we were not even allowed to set foot in them or touch them. We merely saw them from a distance. What a wild goose chase!
We returned to the hotel, a message from our embassy awaited us to say, “Return to Washington and contact us immediately.” We did, rather sheepishly. There we were told that the American Secret Service was about to pick us up for sneaking around American War Surplus Disposal Dumps without permission from the American government and in rather doubtful company too! We told our story but that did not impress our ambassador. We took the dressing down like school boys and returned to England. The deputy high commissioner, Mr. Ashok Chandra, heard our story and laughed. “Krishna Menon will use you as doormats if you let him,” was his comment. We sent in our report to Air Headquarters in Delhi, defying Shri Menon’s fury. We stopped the deal but the earnest money was lost. This was the counterpart of the Jeep scandal of the time. This was the first time I crossed swords with the August Mr. Krishna Menon. Unfortunately, it was not the last.
up to anythi
n in his bridy in his brief
In May 1949 Gp Capt M.M. Engineer and I were sent to England to the RAF Staff College for nearly a year. Meanwhile, the organisation of the Air Force of independent India was gradually taking shape. The Operational Group at Palam (Delhi) become Operational Command on 15 September 1949. The Training Group at Bangalore had become Training Command earlier, on 1 February 1948. Initial Flying Training School was at Jodhpur and Advanced Flying Training at Ambala. A Technical Training College was established near Bangalore at Jalahalli. There were three Ground Training Schools for the airmen. A little later, the Armament Training Wing was set up at Jamnagar.
After the Kashmir operations, the Indian Government agreed to the immediate expansion of the Air Force to ten squadrons and to prepare for its eventual growth to twenty squadrons. During 1950-51, when Liaquat Ali Khan was prime minister of Pakistan, the relationship between India and Pakistan deteriorated further. Our defence forces were put on the alert but thanks to Pandit Nehru’s diplomacy the situation eased off. The Government then accepted the need for fifteen squadrons within five years.
Vampires were the first turbojets that India acquired in 1948 and the first squadron to receive them was No.7. The need to stand on one’s own legs was obvious therefore, in 1950 an agreement was made with De Havilland to manufacture Vampires under licence in India. The project was given by the Government of India to Hindustan Aircraft Limited in Bangalore. HAL had been set up by Sir Walchand Hirachand in collaboration with the state government of Mysore in 1940. In 1942, the concern was taken over by the Government of India. During the war, its work increased manifold. But when it came to the Vampire project, political interference hampered progress. During the period of Indo-Pak tension of 1951, there was a hold-up, a reduction in the supply of Goblin engines, a “goslow” tactic. The Government realised the need to have more than one source of supply although that would add to the problem and cost of maintenance.
The young IAF had no bombers. Britain offered to sell the rather obsolete Lancasters. The alternative was to try and ressurrect the hundred-odd Liberators dumped by the USAF and the RAF at the Care and Maintence Unit at Kanpur after the war. This was virtually an aircraft graveyard because the machines had been deliberately damaged so that they could not be used. After much deliberation, Air Headquarters decided to try to salvage some of these aircraft, partly by cannibalisation and also by repair. By then Kanpur had become No.1 BRD (Base Repair Depot), commanded by Gp Capt Harjinder Singh. Between his organisation and HAL, they managed to make about fifty of them serviceable. The first Liberator squadron (No.5) was raised in November 1948. They also did useful work as a maritime reconnaissance squadron and in Air-Sea rescue as well. A Liberator went and flew over Mt Evrest in 1953, after Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay of Sir John Hunts’ expedition climbed the peak, and took excellent photographs.
Pakistan had aligned itself with the United States of America, and become a member of SEATO (South East Asia Treaty Organisation) in 1954 and CENTO (Central Treaty Organisation) in 1959. In return she received the benefit of plenty of relatively up to date equipments for her defence forces. India, with its policy of non-alignment, had to look for military equipment, elsewhere. France was a source for
the Ouragon as a possible alternative aircraft to the improved version of the Vampire which England by then had produced the Meteor. The Meteor was available for sale and in performance it was comparable to the Ouragon, Air Mshl Gibbs who was then the Chief naturally favoured the Meteor. But Air Headquarters was for the Ouragon. Air Mshl Gibbs was broadminded enough to present an unbiased evaluation, a comparative study of the two airacraft, to the Defence Committee of the Cabinet. The DCC decided on the Ouragon. This was renamed Toofani in India and was used from 1953 to 1966-67.
On the transport side, the Government decided to invest in the American aircraft, the Fairchild Packet C 119. The IAF started using their from 1954. The Kashmir operations had opened everyone’s eyes to the importance of efficient transport planes. Apart from war time use, it has peace time need and utility as well. It is still in useasterisk. * This enormous plane has the capacity to carry three jeeps at a time. Its clam-shell doors at the rear make loading and unloading fairly easy. One of its spectacular trips was to ferry a whole Gnat in 1957 from England to India for evaluation. Another was a trip to Daulat Beg Oldi, an airstrip at a height of 17,400 ft in the Karakoram range; the highest airfield in the world.
So there was steady growth of the Air Force during, these years and its personnel grew in training and experience. Amidst all these interesting and serious developments, occasionally there were lighter moments too. There was one such in November 1950. On the 10th evening there was a telephone call for me from Air Cdre Aspy Engineer to come and see him at his residence immediately. I went. It was a top secret meeting regarding a very important and secret mission for the next day. I came home and asked my wife to have sandwiches and a thermos-flask full of coffee ready for me for the next morning, as I was going to leave early.
“Is it you then who is going to bring King Tribhuvan from Kathmandu tomorrow?” asked my mother.
I was thunder-struck. That was exactly what it was all about. Air Cdre Engineer had bolted the door of the room where we met. He spoke in hush-hush tones from an overwhelming sense of secrecy and importance. All the arrangements were made in that manner. How did my mother know about it? Was it ESP? Of course not. The news had come over All India Radio that officers of the IAF were going to Kathmandu the next day in order to fly out to India the King of Nepai and his family because there was a popular uprising in Nepal against the monarchy and an attempt on his life was feared.
My crew and I left Delhi early morning in a Dakota. Another Dakota went along with us too-a fleet of two. We landed on the “Gouchar” airfield-gauchar being a cattle pasture. We were driven to the palace. The roads were crowded and busy, the palace was even more crowded and busier, humming with activity. There were plenty of cars and small trucks around. Numerous trunks and boxes were transported to the airfield and were loaded on to the waiting aircraft. Then the King, his family and his entourage emerged and started piling into the waiting cars. There was one particularly large saffron-coloured car, I forget the make now after so many years, and we were told to sit in that car. We left for the airport, our car leading the cavalcade. The streets were crowded with people and I thought. “This is it. Somebody will start shooting.” Our car crawled forward but soon had to stop as the people started prostrating themselves in front of the cavalcade. When they stood up, some of them came close and started peering into the car
after. Mrs. Sharda Mukerjee, petit, trim, pleasant, intelligent with a deep sense of selfdiscipline without being pompous about it, made a distinct contribution to service life. She set an example to follow, a tradition to live up to. And many an anonymous Air Force wife has done it.
asking, “But where is our king?” We told them that he was in one of the cars behind ours. They were very surprised and said that the saffron one was the king’s personal, sacred car. Now we understood why the king, in fact no Nepalese except the driver, was with us in that car. I thought to myself that if we became the target of any shooting, who would fly the rescue planes. Any way, there was no shooting. Instead a few of the men forcibly piled into our car and said that they must go to the airfield and bid farewell to their king. Everybody, simply everybody, seemed to know that the king and the royal family were leaving. It was a touching tearful farewell. The king posed for photographs to be taken with an ancient box camera. I remained anxious till the royal passengers were safely aboard without any incident. After the door of our plane shut somebody exclaimed that a baby was missing. They demanded that the door be opened again so they could go and look for the baby. Luckily the baby was located in the aircraft itself and we left Kathmandu and in due course arrived safely at Delhi.
1 April 1954 was a red-letter day for us. On that day Subroto Mukerjee, in the rank of Air Marshal, became the first Indian Commander-in-Chief of the IAF, 21 years after the first flight of the IAF was formed in Drigh Road, Karachi, with four Wapitis. He was only forty-three years old. This was the young man who as a Squadron Leader, based at Miranshah in the North Western Frontier Provinces in August 1943, dropped ammunition taken off the machine gun of his aircraft, stuffed into his socks, to an army picquet in distress and saved their lives tin more help reached them. Imagination, improvisation, quick reaction were characteristic of him. Remarkably even tempered, he showed hardly any signs of stress even under the most trying circumstances, such as the partition riots in Delhi, the Kashmir fighting of 1947-48, the Hyderabad operations or while working with a strong personality like Mr Krishna Menon as Defence Minister, with his vitriolic, acerbic, unnecessarily devastating tongue and temper. Perhaps the only sign of stress was his incessant smoking-and stubbing out the cigarettes after a few puffs. He smiled often and spontaneously.
He had an able partner in his wife, Mrs. Sharda Mukerjee (see Pandit) and she was the epitome of a perfect helpmate. Life in the defence services, and I speak specially of life in the Air Force, with which I am familiar, is not quite like civilian life. It is much more of a community life and the principle of synergetics works here. Two plus two is not just four but four plus. A sense of belonging to a service, to a community contributes considerably to that intangible but important “something” called morale and esprit de corps. Every effort has to be made, and is made, at each station for adequate housing. Children’s education has to be provided for specially in the out-of-the way places. Medical care is most essential. Even entertainment has to be organised. And when there is sorrow, one has to stand beside the stricken, not merely for the moment but for the future as well. Much of this is done officially. But a substantial contribution comes from the personality, the drive, the sensitivity, compassion and the emotional involvement of the CO and his wife in making a station or a command a cohesive unit, an extended family. The men who have to take risks when called upon to do so as part of their duty, can be expected to contribute more of themselves, be more purposeful, if they are confident that their families will be looked after. Mrs. Sharda Mukerjee, petit,
Air Force Day of 1954 was celebrated with a big Fire Power Demonstration at Tilpat Range, a short distance from Delhi on 28 March. It was the first show of its kind in India. Nearly a hundred aircraft took part in it. Special transport services were laid on for the day. It was attended by such a big crowd that the traffic-jam on the return journey continued till the evening. The Army Chief, General Rajendra Singhji, got out of his car and personally helped untangle the traffic.
My job was to give a running commentary on the show. To forestall any criticism on grounds of extravagance I assured the audience, which included our representatives in the Parliament and our ministers and senior bureaucrats who look after our national purse-strings so carefully, that all this was a very necessary part of the training programme and was provided for in the budget for training. It was only for the benefit and education of the spectators that this was being organised as a display for the people of the country rather than privately as is done normally for training!
I have sometimes wondered whether certain services attract certain temperaments or whether the conditions of the services make the people so. Finance, I do realise should be careful of a poor country’s assets. But what is the money for? Only to be guarded and hoarded or to be used for some purpose? Once when presenting a case for some essential purchases for the Air Force and beating my head against this obstructionist technique, I got to the end of my patience. Risking the success of my pleadings, I asked, “Sir, do tell us, do you take us to be knaves or fools? Because in either case, I need not proceed any further, wasting your time and mine.” From then on, I got a more sympathetic hearing and somewhat better results.
In October 1954 an evaluation team of three was sent to Europe to see what sort of aircraft we should buy and manufacture in India after the Vampire. I was then doing a staff job-Deputy Secretary (Military) to the Cabinet. Gp Capt H.S. Moolgavkar was commanding a station and Flt Lt Roshan Suri was a trained test pilot who was flying aeroplanes with HAL. We went to France, England and Sweden and flew a variety of aeroplanes. Our first supersonic flight was on 15 October in a Mystere IVA in France where we also flew several other aircraft. Then we went to England where the Supermarine Swift was considered to be (on paper) the ideal aeroplane for our Air Force. It had range, it had power, it had guns, it had everything. Roshan Suri was the first pilot to fly it. We had to do our test flight. Then came my turn. Just as I was getting into the cockpit, the Chief pilot of Supermarines who brought the aeroplanes-it was then not in the squadrons but was still in the development stage-said to me that in case the engine should stop at any time I should make sure that I was below 20,000 ft before trying to restart it. “Thank you,” I said, “I hope it won’t stop,” and I hopped into the aeroplane and took off. Amongst other things in the test flight, I had to do a supersonic round. In England they do not allow supersonic flying over land-it has to be done over the sea. I took the aircraft out, went over the English Channel and did a gentle turn to the left to go
the coast and then turn back to my airfield which was quite close to the Channel near Southampton. I was at about 40,000 ft. As I did the turn, one engine stopped. It made a loud rattling noise, like the banging of tin plates, and I could see the aircraft whirl-winding. I came down as fast as I could to 18,000 ft. In less than two minutes I descended that distance and managed to relight the engine. Having restarted the engine, I turned back to Chilbolten.
“Why the hell did that engine stop? I was doing nothing unusual”, indignantly I asked the pilot. “Bad engine made by Rolls Royce-the Avon engine,” he replied laconically.
So when I went to Rolls Royce at Derby, I asked, “What kind of an engine have you made? I take a gentle turn and it stops!”
“The engine is fine but the aircraft is a dud”, was the reply.
We were due to sign a contract in India with Rolls Royce to manufacture that particular engine. I sent a telegram to say: “For heaven’s sake do not make that engine whatever else you do. Sending a full report.” As the RAF itself discovered, this aircraft had been changed around so much in the process of development that they ruined the aeroplane. They spent about £ 300 million on it and they had built a number of engines but they scrapped all of them. The same engine on the Canberra, is fine. But when fitted into a fighter, the turbulence of air which went into the engine was so great because of the airframe design, as the Rolls Royce people explained to me, that while going into the high-speed compressor it blocked the compressor-it was like driving a 6”inch steel rod through the compressor! Fortunately, in my case it did not fail that way otherwise I would surely have been at the bottom of the English Channel.
While we were flying the Swift, getting into the problems of the Swift, we saw another aircraft going zig-zag at the same airfield. We had been to Sweden and tried their planes and we tried the French ones. But none of them were fitted with the Avon engine and our project was to find an aircraft which would fly well with the Avon engine. When we saw that little aircraft around over us in Chilbolten while we were flying the Swift I asked what that was. I was told that it was the Gnat and it had been designed for NATO by a man called W.E.W. Petter who had also designed the Canberra. I decided to go to Southampton to see if he would sell us the Gnat. When I met him he looked me up and down and said, “Sorry, this aircraft is not for sale to India.” I snapped back, “In that case why did you let me come all the way from London to Southampton to talk with you about it?”
Anyway, by then it was lunch time and he invited me to have lunch with him. He was quite courteous and polite but very cold and distant. At lunch there were several other directors of the company and one of them asked me about cricket in India.
“Yes, cricket is being played,” I said, “the President’s XI played Mr. Nehru’s XI the other day. You should read the Illustrated London News of such date (I happened to have read it a few days earlier) there was a long article on the subject written by Arthur Bryant.” Bryant is the well-known British historian. During this conversation I noticed that Mr. Petter was jotting down something or other. Two days later I was still in London and I had a call from Petter saying, “Mr. Lal, would you please come and see me? I will send a car for you or shall I come to London?” I said, “No, I am coming.”
When I arrived, there was a red carpet. He asked me, “Do you wish to fly the Gnat?” I said, “Yes, I do.” So we did our test flight on the Gnat and found this was an excellent little aeroplane. We recommended its manufacture, a recommendation that was accepted. Some years later when the aircraft was under manufacture at HAL in Bangalore Mr Petter came there, by then he and I had become very good friends. I was AOCin-C Training Command then and he stayed with us. One day he said, “Pratap, I have an apology to make.”
“What is that?” I asked.
He said, “When you asked for the Gnat I thought you people were communists and I did not want to sell my aircraft to a communist country. But when you said you play cricket in India and I read that article by Arthur Bryant, I realised that you were not communist. That is why I called you back.”
The Gnat has been described as a “single-seater fighter or fighter-bomber about one-third the size and about half the weight of a conventional jet fighter and in its time, was capable of out-climbing, outturning and out-accelerating contemporary fighters”. The Gnat made at HAL came into service from the end of 1959. In the wars of 1965 and 1971 it was a little David slaying Goliaths like the Sabres. The contracts were with Follands for the airframe and with Bristol Aero-engine Ltd. for the Orpheus Engines, signed in September 1956.
Apart from scouting around to buy suitable aeroplanes or entering into contracts to manufacture under licence, the Government of India also patronised the manufacture of a Mach 1 fighter indigenously. An Indo-German team at HAL, Bangalore, under the leadership of Dr. Kurt Tank, was given that responsibility in 1956. The project took a long time to get off the ground. It took all of eleven years for one squadron to be equipped with these transonic fighters, the HF 24 (Hindustan Fighters) or the Marut.
Flying is the glamorous job in the Air Force. But there is a lot of housekeeping that must go with it, the maintenance, the equipment, the technical jobs. If they are not given due importance, if they do not function efficiently, if they are not well-organised in peace time, it would spell disaster in wartime. In recognition of this fact Maintenance Command was set up with Headquarters at Kanpur in January 1955 (it was moved to Nagpur in June 1963). In 1957 these problems were looked into by a special committee of senior officers. To expedite maintenance and supply of spares in forward areas, it was proposed that Air Stores Parks be set up close to such areas. This arrangement helped a great deal during the two wars of 1965 and 1971.
* Finally phased out on 31 March 1986.
Interlude-IAC
I WAS AWAY FROM the Air Force from November 1957 for five years, being deputed to serve in the Indian Airlines Corporation as General Manager. Since the end of World War II a number of private airlines had sprung up, having bought war-surplus aeroplanes in whichever country they could buy them at favourable terms. But buying them was obvoiously easier than running them. These airlines were running at a loss and constantly asked for government subsidy. Ultimately, in 1953, the government nationalised the eight private airlines and put them together as Indian Airlines Corporation, which became the national carrier for internal services of the country and Air India as the country’s international airline. IAC however, continued to be in the red. In November 1957, the Government thought they would try me in the job. I found that Inter-airline rivalry persisted and that there was a sorry lack of cohesion. Wasteful workpractices were rampant so that the company lost money but individuals did very well out of it. I had no experience of trade unions, tribunal awards or politicians and I went in with the bliss and confidence of ignorance. In addition, I had again to deal with Shri V.K. Krishna Menon.
A lot of supply-dropping was being done at NEFA (North Eastern Frontier Agency the state which is now called Arunachal) and Dakotas were doing it. Dakotas were being used in good measure elsewhere as well; they are very good aeroplanes, very reliable work-horses, but they were getting rather old and tired and the number of accidents were increasing. The IAC needed a replacement for Dakotas by some welltried proven aeroplanes urgently. The IAF needed to replace their Dakotas as well but the need of the Airlines was immediate as we were losing aircraft and lives.
The HS-748, manufactured by A.V. Roe & Co. of Manchester, England, a satellite of Hawker Siddeley, was selected as the most suitable replacement. It was a twin-engine turbo-prop capable of relatively short take off and landing. In England the development of this project started only in 1957 and production started in January 1959 (the first flight was a year later, late in January 1960). In mid-1959, when discussions for evaluation and selection for the replacement of Dakotas were going on, there were three options – the Avro-HS-748, the Fokker Friendship 27, a Dutch aircraft, and the Lockheed CL 49 of America. Let alone being proven airworthy, even the prototype of the HS-748 had not flown. But the Avro Company was agreeable to our manufacturing the aircraft in India, and also to our selling it to other countries once we set up the production line. The aircraft was at the “sparkle-in-the-eye” stage whereas the Fokker Friendship had already been proven airworthy. Air Mshl Mukerjee was the chairman of the
committee for the selection. Mr. Menon’s formidable personality as the Defence Minister brought down all the pressure that it was capable of on both the Air Chief and myself, that both of us should place a firm order for the Avro at this stage of its non-existence without a prototype, not even detailed drawings, least of all cost and performance estimates. Being responsible for the safety of the aircraft and the lives and safety of thousands of passengers, I could not sign on the dotted line.
“Remember, Lal” threatened the DM, “You are a service officer. I shall fix you!” It was the most naked display and abuse of power. Needless to say, I was extremely hurt and humiliated. This left IAC out on a limb from which Panditji eventually rescued it by agreeing that it could purchase Friendships until the HS-748 was ready for evaluation, and even then use it only if it was suitable for commercial operations in every way.
Krishna Menon’s will and enthusiasm prevailed and on 27 June 1959 it was decided that the aircraft would be manufactured in India. The question come up as to where to set up the new factory. It was not set up at HAL Bangalore. Air Vice Mshl Harjinder Singh, one of the blue-eyed boys of Krishna Menon undertook the job at Kanpur. “HS” in our country could well stand for “Harjinder Singh” as for “Hawker Siddeley.” Krishna Menon wanted the aircraft to be flying in seven months, that is in the next Republic Day Parade! Harjinder promised to manufacture it in two years. Well, the first Kanpur-assembled prototype flew in November 1961, and two more flew in January 1964.
Delivery to IAC started when I had left the IAC and was the Managing Director of HAL from 1966-69. Should I call it an irony of fate or “poetic justice” that I was finally responsible for its delivery to the IAC? The aircraft was comparable to Fokker Friendship 27 in cost of operations and performance but lacked the finesse of the latter in so far as passenger comfort and maintenance were concerned. In due time, and that took a long time indeed, the aircraft proved to be a reasonably good one which has been used by the IAF for a variety of purposes as also by the Indian Airlines.
The question remains though whether the aircraft factory should have been set up alongside Headquarters Maintenance Command and a Base Repair Depot. Would not one job suffer for another? The AOC-in-C Maintenance Command, who enjoyed the greatest confidence of the Defence Minister, was very keen on having the project entirely under his personal supervision. The Defence Minister’s impatience is reflected in the fact that he wanted the aircraft to fly in seven months!
Of the eminent men under whom, and with whom, I have had the privilege to work, Panditji and Mr. Krishna Menon were the most eminent. These two men had great affection and regard for each other too despite the fact that they were very different types of personalities. Panditji was a man of vision. He was not just a politician but a statesman. And he was a man of great compassion. I worked directly under him as the Military Secretary to the Cabinet for three years from 1953 to 1955. I have watched him with admiration trying to translate his dreams for independent India into facts. These were events of great importance. I have also seen him deal with affairs not of world shaking importance but important enough in the lives of the common citizen. Once somebody brought to him a question that had dragged on for
with some self-discipline. He could have had a number of honest and intelligent men to assist him in his endeavours-he was not the only Indian with patriotism and a desire to serve the country. It is difficult to know, or correctly analyse, deep in a person’s heart the source of kindness or bitterness.
years regarding the rate of pension payable to some widows. He was not angry he was livid: “How much difference would a few rupees, literally a few rupees, this way or that, make to the Indian Exchequer? And for that you people have not bothered to remit the pensions of these widows for so long? Have you no heart? Have you ever thought of the hardships you have may caused those unfortunate women for no fault of theirs? Start paying their pensions immediately.”
Krishna Menon was dynamic, and he was a visionary too like Panditji. He was given the portfolio of defence in 1957. It is to him that we owe the relative self-sufficiency of military hardware which is a tremendous strength for a country. This makes it possible to be independent in policy-making and not become a stooge of some other power. He laid the foundation stone of the tank factory at Avadi, near Madras, on 29 December 1961, though Mr. Chavan, his successor as defence minister had the pleasure of seeing the first Vijayanta tank coming out of the factory in 1965. It is to Krishna Menon that we owe the indigenous manufacture of artillery, heavy mortars, carriage and buffers for heavy and medium guns, ammunition, small arms, bombs, shells, naval mines, high explosives, depth charges, parachutes, mountain warfare equipment, Shaktiman trucks and heavy vehicles, marine engines, automatic and semiautomatic weapons, alloy steel and even dehydrated food. Some of these items were expected to go into production by the end of 1962 or early 1963. Many stores, inmerable vehicles, that had been idle and resting were reclaimed and reconditioned under his stewardship. It was good housekeeping. Research and Development were activated, scientific and technological skills for the production of sophisticated equipment were sought and encouraged. It was during his ministership that the Border Roads Development Board was set up February 1960 under the chairmanship of the Prime Minister and they both gave the organisation much encouragement in its difficult tasks. A great deal had been started but events proved that it was not enough to have averted the disaster of 1962. Directly relevant to the Air Force was the manufacture in India of the HS-748 and later on the Russian Supersonic Mach 2 fighter, the Mig 21, organised by Krishna Menon. His great drawback, however, was that he got so carried away by his patriotic zeal that practical sense at times was totally absent as in the case of acquiring aeroplanes in 1948 or in compelling me to place firm orders for HS-748 prematurely. The Service Chiefs he treated worse than school boys, with no consideration, fairness or courtesy. Gen Thimayya had the guts to resign in protest in Aug 1959, but Panditji managed to persuade him to withdraw his resignation. Krishna Menon encouraged officers whom he liked to be in direct contract with him, ignoring the Chiefs, and that is not only unethical but a foolproof method of undermining discipline. It was also difficult to understand why he took such pleasure in unnecessary rudeness. I remember attending a dinner at the Air House when Air Marshal Gibbs was the Chief Krishna Menon was one of the guests, Mrs. Gibbs, trying to make polite conversation said, “I have just changed my curtains. How do you like them, Mr. Menon?” “I have seen better”, was the crisp reply. They certainly were not on familiar enough terms for banter… an extremely awkward silence followed.
Undeniably, Krishna Menon’s achievements were great. His love for and pride in his country were genuine. He could have achieved even more if only he had been able to curb his impatience and arrogance
Air India inaugurated its service to Tokyo by a proving flight in the first week of November 1960. Air Mshl Mukerjee and I went on this flight. It was a happy journey. On reaching Tokyo, he wanted to stay in the city while I opted to go to see Mt Fujiyama and Lake Hakone. I enjoyed the trip and then retired for the night at a Japanese Inn where I was staying. Late at night I was called to the phone. The message was a bolt from the blue: “Air Marshal Mukerjee has passed away.” It was the 8th/9th night. I could hardly believe my ears. When I left him the previous evening, he looked perfectly hale and hearty. What could have gone wrong? Was it the heart? I returned to Tokyo immediately. There I was told that he was having dinner at a Japanese Inn with a friend of his, a senior officer of the Indian Navy, when some food went down the wrong way and obstructed his breathing. Before a doctor could come, it was all over.
We come back with his body, a sad journey. He was cremated with full military honours. There was a fly past of fortynine aircraft, one for each of his forty-nine years. The honours and mourning were not merely a matter of form, they were conducted amidst genuine tears. He was the foremost pioneer of military aviation in India and because of his friendly kindly disposition, he was loved by many.
Air Mshl Aspy Engineer was appointed the next CAS and he held the office from 1 December 1960 to 31 July 1964. Memorable events took place during his term of office, what shall we call them-Chinese Checkers?
My five-year term with the Indian Airlines Corporation was coming to a close. I felt a tremendous sense of satisfaction, the airline was no more in the red. Our airline people were now helping out airlines in other countries such as Nigeria and Iraq. I felt I had been away from the Air Force long enough and was longing to return to my service. But Mr. Krishna Menon was the Defence Minister and he had neither forgotten nor forgiven me. And this was his opportunity to thrust his knife into me.
I was informed that my services were no longer required by the Air Force. The Minister for Civil Aviation, Babu Jagjivan Ram, did not require my services either! So I was paid my provident fund, gratuity and pension and put out to grass.
For days I could not eat properly, for nights I could not sleep. My throat had always given me a slight but nagging trouble and I thought it might be cancer. My fears proved to be unfounded. On my last day in office, on 30 September 1962, then Defence Secretary informed me over the telephone that Panditji would like to know if I was interested in a job in one of the public sector steel mills. No, thank you, I replied. For me it was the Air Force or nothing from the government. But that was Panditji, with his guileless, large, kindly heart.
It was not for nothing that he was the much loved hero of India-he was mine too.
When I was in Bangalore, with HAL from 1966 to 1969, I was told by one of our retired Financial Advisers that papers were ready for my court martial at one stage, but ultimately Krishna Menon was
N.E.F.A. WESTERN SECTOR
PART KAMENG DIVISION
NOT TO SCALE
TIBET —
persuaded to drop the charges.
Dr. Bharat Ram with whom I had been in school and college offered me the job of Managing Director in his Rayon Cord Factory at Kotah, Rajasthan, that was just being set up. I accepted it and plunged into the study of chemistry of rayon and the adventure of building a factory from scratch. In this job I had to go to Jaipur to attend a meeting of the Chamber of Commerce. A strange incident occurred there. In a corner of the hall where we were having lunch one day there was a seedy looking individual, unshaven, sitting by himself. As I passed by he addressed me: “Sahib, you will be changing your job within the next few weeks”. He confirmed my lack of faith in sooth sayers but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he must have meant that I had just changed my job a few weeks ago… and it was clever of him to guess that one!
“Do not ride in a new vehicle in the next few months,” he continued. Since I could not afford to buy a new car for myself, nor did I need to, I did not worry about this warning unduly.
Fate has a strange way of settling scores. In October 1962 the Chinese overran Indian defence positions in NEFA. The country was for all practical purposes at war again. I found it difficult to concentrate on rayon cord making while the country was going through its ordeal of fire. I had pledged myself to the service of the country and at this critical point I was a civilian. I did not fly actively in the Kashmir operations but I had in the Burma campaign. I was overwhelmed by a feeling, an urge, I found difficult to describe. I called at Air Headquarters repeatedly. The one person who did not want me in the Air Force was himself relieved of his responsibilities and eventually the Government was pleased to take me back in its fold.
I had been away for three months. This period was regularised as leave without pay and I was reinstated in the Air Force, as Air Officer Maintenance. This was not a glamourous job-it entailed house keeping for the IAF-but it was an essential, important one.
But La Kenzemane
Chung
NDIA
Hot Spring
Tawana
Bleting
AWANG SE-200
ameng
Sepla
Tashigang Dzong
Nyukmadong Dirang
Bomdi-La Rupat
Chakoo Kalaktang
BHUTAN
Foot Hills
Charduar Mis amari • Balipara
Tezpur
BRAHMAPUTRA R
Silghat
Rangia
Mgirabari RS.
Mangaldai
INDIA
Lamingoon RS/
Guwahati
In the summer of 1954, India signed a treaty with China, recognising the “Tibet region of China” and concluding some trade agreements. In the preamble of this agreement the two countries promised to abide by the five principles of “Panch sheel”:
Chinese Checkers
1. Mutual respect for each other’s territorial integrity and sovereignty 2. Mutual non-aggression 3. Mutual non-interference in each other’s internal affairs 4. Equality and mutual benefit 5. Peaceful coexistence
DURING THE FIFTIES INDIA lumbered along on its slow democratic path. The five year plans aimed high and we did manage to achieve some degree of progress in different areas such as agriculture, industry (specially in the public sector), in education, science and technology. Politically the ruling party was firmly committed to socialism and non-alignment; it was determined not to be sucked into the vortex of the two major power blocs. In this respect our Prime Minister, Pandit Nehru was an inspiration for many of the Third World nations of Asia and Africa which were trying to free themselves from the shackles of colonialism. All of them did not emerge as democracies; most of them became dictatorships of indeterminate, varying political ideologies. Political maturity, like maturity in other spheres, cannot be bought cheaply nor overnight.
Some important developments took place in the world which had direct repercussions in India. Pakistan was wooed by the USA to become a part of their power bloc and agreed to be so-at a price. That country became a member of the South East Asia Treaty Organisation (SEATO) in 1954 and the Central Treaty Organisation (CENTO) in 1959 and reaped tremendous benefits from these military alliances in the form of a generous supply of sophisticated military hardware along with the associated facilities for training in using the equipment. India wished to retain its independence of foreign policy and in the bargain had to pay for every item of military equipment it required from the open market at the market rate. However, some developmental foreign assistance was received by India. Moscow assisted in setting up the Bhilai Steel Mill in 1954. The one at Durgapur was set up with British collaboration and the one at Rourkela with German assistance. The supply of American supersonic jet fighters, the F-86 Sabres, and the F-104 Starfighters with Sidewinder missiles, to Pakistan created the: need to acquire something equivalent such as the Mig-21s, but that was during the very early sixties and the deal was not clinched till mid-1962.
Traditionally, Pakistan had been perceived as the ‘enemy’ and it was not recognised till too late that there could be another threat too. The Communist Party of China succeeded in installing itself in power at Beijing in October 1949. In 1950 China more or less celebrated its first anniversary by invading Tibet. On 23 May 1951 a treaty was signed between China and Tibet in which China agreed to allow Tibet freedom in matters of religion and their own way of life. It soon became evident though that the newly emerged Communist China not only acted on the concept that power lies in the barrel of a gun but also resorted to diplomacy of duplicity with great refinement.
In the summer of 1954, India signed a treaty with China, recognising the “Tibet region of China” and
But within a month of signing this treaty, China staked its claim on a border post called Barahoti in Uttar Pradesh, to the east of Mt Kamet north-east of Badrinath giving it a Chinese name-Wu-je.
Three reports were submitted by the Army and Air Headquarters jointly to the Defence Ministry during the fifties indicating their apprehensions regarding the possible threat from China and suggesting measures to counter such a threat. But the political party in power was socialistic and subscribed fully to the sentiment of ‘Hindi-Chini Bhai Bhai’ (Indians and Chinese are brothers). Moreover, the age old belief in the inviolability of the Himalayas continued to nurture a false sense of security. The physical barrier became a psychological barrier. No politician except Sardar Patel, who died in 1950, ever had any insight into this aspect. Nobody was prepared to take any intiative in this direction.
In October 1954 our Prime Minister, Pandit Nehru, was invited to visit China. He took this opportunity to point out to the Chinese Prime Minister Mr. Zhou Enlai that some maps recently published in China showed large tracts on the Indo-Tibetan border as parts of China. In fact not only parts of the Indian border but of other countries also were shown as such. Eastern Siberia, Central Asian Soviet possessions encircling Sinkiang and Afghanistan, Outer Mongolia, Nepal, Bhutan, Sikkim, Korea, Vietnam, and a substantial area of South East Asia were included in these maps as Chinese territories. Pandit Nehru was placated with the excuse that these maps were not new but old which the new government had not had time to revise.
In the summer of 1955, there were Chinese intrusions at Barahoti again and at Niti Pass. The following year they had a look at Himachal Pradesh as well through Shipkila Pass.
In spite of these intrusions Pandit Nehru showed great friendliness towards Zhou Enlai at the Bandung Conference in Java in 1955. Pandit Nehru also continued to advocate for a seat for Communist China at the United Nations.
In September 1956 an Indian Military goodwill mission went to visit China at their invitaion. Maj Gen J. N. Chaudhri was leader of the mission. From the Air Force, Air Cdre M.S. Chaturvedi and I were included in the party. The hospitality-food and entertainment-was lavish, observant, considerate and refined. And it was a great education for us. We saw for ourselves the tremendous effort that was going on and the progress achieved in every field of activity. We were taken to see dockyards, aircraft factories,
Папа сегтсогу, 32 Пшеѕ wеѕt опе Спеѕе тоаа, пеаг пе Копката rаѕѕ.
place which looked like any other open ground. It was barren but dotted with scrubs and shrubs and it had a few irregular ditches like trenches here and there and a few men moving around. “We are well prepared here,” they said. We could see no military installations. Suddenly, at a given signal, small holes in the ground, dugout pits, opened up. They had been covered with wooden planks, well camouflaged, like lids of large boxes with hinges. These wooden boards had light machineguns screwed on the inside, handing upside-down in the pits. Each pit also had a couple of men inside. When these contraptions flew open, the soldiers sprang up like so many “Jack-in-the-boxes”. They took up positions quickly, fired their volleys, sprang back into their pits, closed the lids and everything disappeared from sight. Once again it became an innocent, quiet, barren field. I thought to myself then that it is very nice to have the Chinese as friends but with their intelligence, determination and efficiency they will make, ormidable foes.
During our tour we saw none of the Russian technicians who were helping them with some industries. They stayed in the background but before the year was out, tbe Sino-Russian feud was in the open.
In the winter of 1956 Mr. Zhou Enlai visited India. He gave our government to understand that China had accepted that part of the McMahon line which demarcated the boundary between Burma and China which the committee under the chairmanship of Sir Henry McMahon had fixed in 1914. Regarding the McMahon line in north-eastern India, it would soon be sorted out peacefully they said. This, as boundaries between countries are normally fixed along clearly visible physical features such as mountain ranges, watersheds or rivers, followed a clearly discernible feature which runs between India and China, between the windward and leeward sides of the Himalayas, a range known as the Thagla Ridge, with a small river called Namka Chu flowing along its base in an east-west direction.
Scarcely a few months later, the Chinese appeared for a while at Walong in Lohit, the north-eastern most division of what was then known as NEFA.
In 1957 India became aware of the fact that the Chinese had built a military road, 750 miles long and 12 ft wide, through the Aksai Chin area (the White Stone Desert) in Ladakh from Yarkand to Gartok, to link Sinking with Tibet. Aksai Chin is a plateau at 14,000 ft, desolate and deserted, the caravan route from Khasgar to Hunza crossed it to bypass the mountain routes where passes were blocked by snow in winter. By making this road China gained easy access to Sinkiang on the border of Russia and India only became aware of the road as a fait accompli. By then, the Chinese had fortified positions about 50 miles within Indian territory, 32 miles west of the Chinese road, near the Kongkala Pass.
LADAKH
CHINA
NOT TO SCALE
Haji Langar
Rafakoram posisi Daulat Begoldi/
zil Jila
Chin
Murgoc Nacho Chu
n
Chustu
Dehra L
Dehra La
Panamik
youanne
Galwan R
Samzungling
to use
Shyok R
Tsogstsaly
Shyok
sem
enyor Toogstsals
Aksai Chin Road
s
Phobrang
Ane y
indus R.
Pangong T
Khurnak FC
the Sino-Indian border had not been discussed earlier because “conditions were not right for its settlement”. Later events elucidated this cryptic statement: it was the art of holding out a carrot till the stick was ready. That a crisis was at hand was evident when the Dalai Lama was forced to leave Tibet despite the treaty between Tibet and China. He came over to India through one of the north-eastern passes near Tawang on 31 March 1959 and was granted political asylum.
By August 1959, the Chinese occupied Longju, a frontier post in NEFA, about halfway along the border, close to the Subansiri river, which runs between the Subansiri and Siang divisions. By September China rejected the McMahon Line as the boundary and by November, suggested demilitarisation of the entire Sino-Indian border to a depth of 20 kilometres or 121/2 miles from the line of actual control. The Indian government could not possibly accept this and made some counter proposals. The Chinese government rejected India’s counter proposals.
In April 1960, the two Prime Ministers met again at Delhi, but the talks, as could be predicted, were inconclusive. “Conditions were not yet ripe for settlement!” Further meetings were held between officials at Beijing, Delhi and Rangoon. Simultaneously, intrusions continued to take place both in the eastern as well as western sectors-a continuous and determined nibbling process. Small detachments of the Indian Army also set up forward posts in Ladakh. By mid-1962, the Indians established some new border-posts in an effort to outflank and cut Chinese supply lines. By then a second motorable road had been built by the Chinese and they were deeply entrenched in forward positions.
In the east, by 8 September, south of the Thagla Ridge, the Chinese surrounded our post at Dhola. And on the early morning of 20 October, “conditions were ripe for a settlement”. They struck in force both in NEFA and Ladakh. Their superiority in numbers was six to one and they were supported by artillery and mortars.
Pandit Nehru admitted that India was out of touch with reality and was living in an artificial atmosphere of her own creation. It was a grave error of judgement to have ignored the writing on the wall. India was unprepared, short of men, ammunitions, rations, clothes, shoes, roads, an efficient higher command and even a sensible, national policy. The first phase was fought from the 20 to 24 October 1962. Roads on the Chinese side were ready. Even within India they constructed some roads with lightning speed. In the Lohit division, they came eighty miles down the Lohit river from Walong to Hayuliang.
After the five days’ fighting in October, there was a pause and another Chinese offer withdrawal to 20 kilometres from the line of actual control which was impossible for India to accept. The Lok Sabha was in an uproar. Krishna Menon was removed from the Defence Ministership on 31 October-no amount of shielding by Pandit Nehru helped. He was replaced by Shri Y.B. Chavan.
The second and final wave of the attack came in NEFA from 14 to 19 November and in Ladakh from 18 to 21 November. It was an utter debacle. At NEFA in the Dirang Dzong area the Command and central structure of a force of over 15,000 troops responsible for defending 20,000 sq. kilometres of our territory, was paralysed in a matter of minutes and thus the war lost unfought at about 0600 hours on November 18th (1962). The division which had covered itself with glory during the second World War and had built
Rudok Rezang La
Chiloagkunghia
Nyoma Rap
Dungti
INDIA
Chang La
Koyul
Hanle
Demchok
Chumar
Tashigongo
Gar Dzong
In January 1959, in reply to a letter from Pandit Nehru, Zhou Enlai stated that the question regarding the Sino-Indian border had not been discussed earlier because “conditions were not right for its
operational staff. Six Chinese brigades out-flanked Sela pass, passed Bomdila and threatened Tezpur, 96 miles on a straight line south of the border. This advance took only four days.”*
The unilateral ceasefire was declared by the Chinese on 21 November, but desultory fighting went on till much later. Wisdom was acquired by our senior politicians and government at the cost not only of “blood, sweat and tears” but of frostbites, gangrene, pulmonary oedema and lives of people innocent of the intricacies of politics and diplomacy.
In Aksai Chin, China has installed itself in such strength that it is very likely that they will not move out, nor will it be possible to move them by force. With the roads constructed in the area, it is a tremendous advantage for China vis-a-vis India, Russia and Pakistan as well and as far as Pakistan is concerned “my enemy’s enemy is my friend”. Having demonstrated its power to the world, China very sensibly stopped short of fighting the Indian Army in the plains where the Indians would not have been at a disadvantage. This defeat for India undoubtedly gave Pakistan more confidence in its own military strength vis-a-vis India. India, having learnt her lesson, set about putting her house in order.
The role of the IAF
WHAT PART DID the IAF play in this sad event? A noncombatant role but an important one nonetheless. It was a logistical role, transportation of men and material and supply-dropping with large transport planes and helicopters. In NEFA, an area of high mountain ranges, thick tropical jungles and few roads, flying was the mode of quick communication. During my five-year tenure with the Indian Airlines we had flown in and out of rhat area a great deal, carrying people and supplies. The tribals-the Daflas, Miris, Monpas, Mishmis, Apatanis and others-had seen our Dakotas but they had not seen much motor-transport at that time or even bicycles for that matter. The controversy regarding whether the distant tribal areas should be brought within the orbit of modern civilisation by developing means of transport and communication or, as anthropologists such as Dr. Verrier Elwin who had enough influence with Pandit Nehru suggested, whether they should be left as “noble savages”, the concept of Rousseau, continued. There were no airports, no landing aids; we used the most primitive landing grounds, initially of one’s own choice. It was genuine pioneering. The climate, the weather with the heavy and prolonged monsoons, the winter rains, the fog and the mist rising from the ground specially after the “hoom” (cultivation season), laying a thick pall of smoke, made flying hazardous. Landing or supply-dropping in the plains and valleys was relatively easy but in the mountains landing was impossible, except to a certain extent, for helicopters. Supplydropping was difficult because of restricted manoeuvrability due to the terrain and very small level areas being available as dropping zones. The parcels dropped would roll down the slopes and it was often impossible to retrieve them. Once the fighting started, the enemy’s progress was so rapid that there were no dropping zones (DZD) left to us. And helicopters could not possibly cope with the logistic support required for an entire army division, they were not even sufficient for a brigade.
with the logistic support required for an entire army division, they were not even sufficient for a brigade.
The need for air transportation at this time did not arise only when the fighting began as it did in the Kashmir operations in October 1947. Supplies had been airlifted to certain areas since the early fifties. The Chushul airstrip, at 14,000 ft, in Ladakh was ready for use in 1954. Packets of No. 12 Squadron, stationed at Srinagar during the summer and Jammu during the winter, provisioned essential requirements for the Army in that area. Detachments of Dakotas from No. 43 Squadron and IL 14s from No. 42 were also engaged in these logistic support operations. Enormous quantities of PSP (Perforated Steel Plates) were carried to the important forward bases to construct runways. When China announced the construction of their road through the Aksai Chin region in 1957, and India was taken by surprise by the fait accompli, activity in this area increased. The Army was directed to set up forward posts and since there was a dearth of roads, the men and their requirements had to be airlifted.
Flying in this sector was a fairly strenuous business. Packets, IL 145 and of course the vintage Dakotas were all piston-erigined planes. Their safe, comfortable ceiling of flying was between 12 and 15,000 ft above sea level. But to clear the mountain ranges they had to fly at heights ranging from 17 to 20,000 ft or even more. The planes were not pressurised so oxygen cylinders had to be used and that was a somewhat clumsy and tiring arrangement. The cold in the unpressurised cabin and consequently the bulky clothing required for the crew added to the discomfort. The weather and the wind-pattern often made the flights very bumpy and uncomfortable, specially in the Dras valley, and everyone concerned knew how difficult it would be in case of a need to force-land.
To add to the problems, the route was the same for the journey forwards and back. At most the planes had to go to a few different places radiating from a focal point and pass through the same point for the return journey, with the result that at particular heights there was always heavy traffic. With hardly any flying-or landing-aids in that region at that time, the pilot had to be very alert. While Srinagar had some limited facilities, Kargil had none and Leh had a radio-telephone-with a range of ten miles! At posts like Chushul, Fukche, Thoise, Darbuk there was no aircraft-to-ground communication. Flying and landing had to be visual or “by the seat of one’s pants”. Weather forecast was available only at Srinagar and our Met boys were surprisingly good. The combination of the weather in Kashmir and the topography made each flight an adventure. Each aircraft flew two to three sorties a day. At times it so happened that the weather at Srinagar was good but the weather-man’s prediction was that it would be bad on route and/or at the destination. The crew would sit around at the airport in their flying overalls ready to take off but would perforce have to wait. Often Army personnel would come hoping for airlifts and find the air crew sitting around in fine weather. Even if they did not say so in so many words, the accusation would be in their eyes or in their snide remarks. There were no Sundays, no holidays. Briefing was at four in the morning, take off by four-thirty. In winter when all the heights were covered by snow, landmarks disappeared. To begin with Srinagar was a non-family station, so there were no home comforts either. Later on, they were allowed to make their own arrangements. It was a hard life.
To enable the Packets to develop a little more power in these very difficult circumstances, it was
when the weather improved, he returned, found all his stuff intact and happily proceeded on his journey.
The supply-dropping in this area in the forward posts was done unstintingly without any considerations of cost effectiveness’; even penny pockets where there were hardly enough men to haul away and store the stuff were air-dropped supplies.
By 1961 the Air Force started using Chandigarh which earlier used to be only a civil airport. All the logistic support flying by the transport squadrons was done under the AOC, Jammu and Kashmir, from Chandigarh which became the home base for AN 12s. They carried a lot of material and machinery for the Border Roads as well, when that organisation was formed in 1960. As the tempo of activity mounted, the number of sorties per day went up till at the peak of operations there were as many as fifty to sixty sorties per day, a most impressive achievement. They flew not only to the western sector but to the east as well. The same aircraft would fly to Kashmir in the morning and do another trip to Tezpur in Assam in the afternoon. For a Dakota the flying time from Srinagar to Chushul was about two-and-a-half hours whereas an AN 12 could fly from Chandigarh to Chusul in fifty-five minutes. The AN 12s had the advantage of being able to fly above the weather. Since the AN 12s needed a longer runway than other aircraft, the runways at Leh and Chushul had to be extended. These aircraft performed extemely well under difficult cirumstances. Surely in the country of their origin they did not have to cope with flying over such terrain with such heavy loads and with such rudimentary aids or no aids at all.
engineers at Bangalore with technical cooperation by Steward-Davis Inc of USA. The first successful flight was on 9 November 1961. By June 1962 such an aircraft was ready for a trial in Kashmir. The flight was scheduled from Srinagar to Daulat Beg Oldi in the Karakoram region at 17,400 ft on 23 July 1962. Sqn Ldr C.S. Raje (now Air Marshal) was deputed for it. Daulat Beg Oldi had two runways, one for landing and one for take off because there was not a large enough stretch of level ground to suit both purposes. The runways were on sloping ground and advantage had to be taken of the lie of the land. Aircraft had to take off on the runway sloping down which, incidentally, ended in a precipice. Landing was done up the slope so that it would help to reduce speed. AOC-in-C Western Command, Air Vice Mshl E.W. Pinto, a keen flier, flew up to Srinagar to honour the occasion. The Station Commander also wanted to join the flight. The plan was that San Ldr Raje should take an unloaded aircraft for the first flight, the test flight, with only the AOC-in-C and the Station Commander as passengers. However, in the morning, San Ldr Raje found thirty-odd Army personnel with kit and all already seated in the plane. The Army refused to take them off because they said; that the troops were needed very badly at Daulat Beg Oldi area. Raje obliged. Luckily the flight went off uneventfully-and in fact was something of a record.
The men of the IAF had to develop their own techniques of flying as well as supply-dropping because their aircraft were usually heavily laden and many of the runways were not as long as they should have been. Once airborne they were on their own. Air Movement Control Centre, a wireless unit, could report positions of aircraft but could not communicate with them. In Kashmir it was at Jammu and in the east it was at Shillong. Flying and landing had to be totally visual.
Summer was the main stocking time for the Army in their forward posts in difficult terrain and one could at least be reasonably sure of favourable weather conditions. Apart from arms and ammunitions, medical stores, building material and machines, food-tons of atta, dal, rice and spices, flour, tinned food, potatoes and onions-even live goats in cages attached to parachutes were airlifted. Some of the places had landing facilities such as Leh, Kargil, Chushul and later on Daulat Beg Oldi near the Karakorum pass. At Kargil the landing strip slopes down towards the river and the space available to manoeuvre the aircraft is so restricted that one had more or less to plummet down. Foreign pilots flying UN Observer teams had very seldom been subjected to flying in such conditions and their reactions can well be imagined. Other places had only DZs such as at Galwan and Shyok in the north, Sultan Chushtu, Sasar Brangza, Tsogtsalu and Khurnak Fort north of the Pangong Lake, Panamik in the Nubra Valley not far from the gorge of the Shyok river. From the air the inky blue of the glaciers in the desolate, majestic landscape stood out as an unforgettable sight. There were other DZs like Darbuk, Phobrang, Tartar Camp, Apkar, Bhujang. Nyoma Rap, Dungti and Demchok were in the south-east, and so on. Some places were hardly surveyed and had no place names to go by. They were given code names such as Bismuth, Oscar, Mike or Golf. How Daulat Beg Oldi got its name is interesting. It is on a caravan route and the local people say that within living memory, Daulat Beg, a trader, came by very bad weather at this place. It was so bad that he simply piled up his merchandise in one spot, left it unattended and beat a retreat in search of shelter. After some time when the weather improved, he returned, found all his stuff intact and happily proceeded on his journey.
The Western Sector
ON 20 OCTOBER 1962, San Ldr Chandan Singh’s AN 12, on a flight from Chandigarh to Daulat Beg Oldi region came back hit by LMG (Light Machine Gun) fire by the Chinese. The undeclared war had begun. Our Army, in a desperate situation, wanted five AMX 13 tanks to be airlifted to Chushul. It was a tall order, without precedent, but the Air Force took up the challenge. The problem was how to load the heavy machine into an AN 12. However, sturdy the aircraft the possibility existed that the tracks of the tank might tear up its flooring. Carpenters were set to work on a top-priority basis to construct a floor covering with wooden planking cut to fit the shape of the floor exactly so that the planks would not move. The next question was whether the tail-wheel area of the aircraft would stand upto the weight of the tank as it was driven in. It was too much of a risk to take. An answer was found to this also. A big, strong wooden arch was constructed to give support from below and sand bags were plied between the wooden support and the body of the aircraft to act as shock-absorbers. Having ensured that the aircraft could safely take its large, heavy and yet delicate cargo the next step was to actually load it. A three-man team from the Army worked with the Air Force men for each tank-a man to drive the tank, another to direct the driver to drive the tank very carefully straight into the aircraft and an overall supervisor. This Himalayan Odyssey was planned for 25 October.
On the 24th the Army officer in charge said that one of these tank drivers had to go on leave and he
delicate operation as a team and a new man may spell disaster! They simply could not afford to change the tank-driver at the last moment. Apparently the young driver’s home was in a village nearby and his wife was in labour. It was their first baby and she and the rest of his family had asked him to come home. The Air Force pleaded that he be sent home after the job was done. The driver was not changed. The job was done successfuliy. Five aircraft took off one after the other. The second one after forty-five minutes and the other three at a fifteen-minute interval. When they returned, that driver was presented with a photograph of the baby and his wife beaming with happiness. The commanding officer had sent a doctor from the unit to this man’s home to see that all went well and he brought back the photograph as testimony. The young man was then given leave to go home.
The Indian Army units were in the process of thinning out for the winter when the Chinese struck in force on 20 October 1962, soon after midnight. They overran the Chip-chap river valley to the east of Daulat Beg Oldi by the afternoon and the garrisons had to retreat to Daulat Beg Oldi. On the 22nd the Chinese threatened to encircle Daulat Beg Oldi. Our garrison retreated to Thoise. The same day, Chushul airfield was threatened; 114 Infantry Brigade and 9 Field Company were there to defend it. They laid minefields on the surrounding heights of Lukung (24,000 ft), Gurung Hill (25,500 ft) Maggar Hill (17,000 ft) and Spanggur Gap (14,000 ft) in the bitter cold.
According to the History of the Corps of Engineers:
support to the Army-whether transporting VIPs or evacuating casualties-convey some of the difficulties, hardships and tensions of the situation. The first detachment of four Dakotas of No.11 Squadron was sent from Barrackpore (Calcutta) to Gauhati in November 1961 which earlier had been a civil airport. The crew – flying as well as maintenance, had to live in tents initially. Each aircraft did four to five sorties a day airlifting for Tawang, Khinzemane, Sela and Bomdila. As in Kashmir flying was strenuous and hazardous because of the temperatures and weather conditions, and the unavailability of flying and landing aids. As the work-load increased, more aircraft joined the detachment.
By July 1962, three Packets from No.42 Squadron joined the fray. When the fighting began, Air Vice Mshl Jaswant Singh himself came to Gauhati from Calcutta and lived with the men, supervising and encouraging them, and taking part in it himself. Day after day his was the first aircraft to take off in the early morning mist and haze.
Hostilities were increasing. Aircraft started coming back riddled with bullets. Beginning in September the evacuation of tea planters and foreigners had started which later became a general exodus-terrorstricken men and women fleeing from the advancing Chinese leaving everything but their valuables behind.
The second phase of fighting was as disastrous as the first. It was retreat all along. The Chinese poured into Walong in the north-eastern most part in the valley of the river Lohit on 16 November and again our Army pulled back. The next stand was at Hayuliang. South of Tawang, the Chinese bypassed Sela from the east. At Lagam, south-east of Sela, our troops took a fairly heavy toll of the Chinese but ultimately they had to withdraw to Charduar. On 18 November, the Chinese occupied Dirang Dzong from which the HQ of 4 Infantry Division and 65 Infantry Brigade had pulled out. Arrangements were afoot to evacuate even Tezpur at the edge of the plains at the foot of the mountains. The Air Force personnel, specially the helicopter pilots, working in the area at the limit of their endurance, did not know where or when they would get the next meal. The Station Commander at Tezpur, Wg Cdr Arjun Bhavani, showed initiative which earned him the gratitude of all those concerned: He put guards around the cookhouse so that the cooks would not be able to run away! As it happens the Chinese stopped short of Tezpur….
Prior to hostilities, the airstrip at Chushul was used at the leisurely pace of one aircraft a day. During the hostilities it was subjected to six AN 125 and about eight Packets daily and became unserviceable frequently. Its daily maintenance need rose to 4 tons of RC3 bitumen an item then in acute shortage… By 13 November, 95 AN 125 and 57 Packets had landed at Chushul airstrip, the P S P sheets of which, protesting under the strain, kept disintegrating. At the same time, the siting of Avantipur and Chushul airstrips were undertaken, while the Thoise airstrip became operational when two Packets, carrying plant and machines landed successfully. *
From the morning of 18 November and on the 19th there was intense shelling by the Chinese on Chushul airfield and the surrounding hill-positions. The Chinese were helped by the Aksai Chin Road and the Rudok base close by. The anti-tank mine fields, a troop of AMX tanks and our brave soldiers saved Chushul when the Chinese tried to break through the Spanggur gap.
The Eastern Sector
THE REMINISCENCES OF some of the Air Force men who took part in the eastern sector in giving logistic support to the Army-whether transporting VIPs or evacuating casualties-convey some of the difficulties,
N.E.F.A. EASTERN SECTOR PART LOHIT & TIRAP DIVISIONS NOT TO SCALE
TIBET
Kangri Karpo – La
immediately. Some fighting took place even after the declaration of the ceasefire. One of our valiant soldiers, Brig Hoshiar Singh and some of his troops were killed at this stage. For the helicopter units, the job now was to search for, and pick up, the wounded, demoralised, retreating stragglers. They were able to help many, specially in the eastern valleys of Bhutan, along the small mountain streams at Sakden, Tashigang Dzong, Devnagiri, Donanga and also in the Kameng division of NEFA at Misamari, Chacku, Foothills and Kalaktang. Air Cdre M.M. Engineer did more than the call of duty required. He accompained the helicopter pilots who had to land at difficult places to deliver supplies to the hapless, shattered, fleeing men seeking refuge. He personally carried loads from the aircraft to the men. He ordered a tea shop to be set up at Sakden and even posted a doctor, Dr. Dutta, there. A new base for the operation was established of Amatulla in the same area, Kameng, till the end of the year.
This set-back in 1962 was a painful lesson for the country but it did provide an impetus to our rethinking and reorganising. Perhaps the only aspect of the hostilities, seen from a very broad perspective, where we had no cause to be ashamed was the magnificent role played by the helicopter pilots. And they were able to perform this because the right equipment was available at the right time. A brief review of the development of this branch of the Air Force will not be out of place here.
Yonggyap. La
Tsang Kang-La
Mipio
Koyd – La
Anini LOHIT DIVISION
Etalin
ZAYUL CHU
Al-La
Mrambon
Rima
The Helicopter Units
Dambuk
Nizamghat
Kibithoo
Matengliang
Jachop
Walongo)
Mayuliang
Tezu
No Sadiya LBRAHAN PUTRA
Saikhóa Ghat
ZUHTY
INDIA TIRAP DIVISION!
Talap Rs.
Digboirmy rebedo? Lowass
BURMAN
HELICOPTERS ADDED A NEW dimension to flying although today we take them for granted. S.K. Majumdar was the doyen of helicopter pilots and his contemporaries were Neil Todd, B.S. Jaswal, Late San Ldr V.K. Saigal, M.S. Kapoor, Johnson Berry, K.L. Narayanan, A.S. William, Adlakha and Rajgopal to name but a few pilots of the early days. They went to places where the traditional aircraft could not go and did jobs which the traditional aircraft could not do.
The first helicopters with the IAF were the Sikorsky S55s in 1954. They needed a crew of two and had seating capacity for eight-to-twelve. The first two pilots-S.K. Majumdar and Todd-were trained in the USA and Majumdar then trained others in India. Then came the Bell 47 GIIs in 1957. They were smaller than Sikorskies, needed only one pilot but could carry only two passengers. They were extremely manoeuvrable and could actually do a rooftop landing. They could operate comfortably upto a height of 8,000 ft. Two Sirkorsky S62Bs were also acquired in 1960 but these did not prove very useful for India.
Initially the helicopter unit was based at Palam. Two years later, it was shifted to Kanpur but after another two years, by 1958. it was back at Palam. Majumdar was the instructor and he flew from dawn to dusk. There was no engineering officer or adjutant with the unit but Wg Cdr Kharas, the engineer, and Wg Cdr A.C. Lal the equipment officer, at Kanpur were very helpful. The unit had four machines and it logged between 250 and 300 hours of flying. To train a pilot initially, 50 hours of flying were necessary. The next step was operational duty under training which in due course made him a fully qualified pilot. The unit also managed its own servicing and the serviceability of the helicopters was excellent. The first line of
Likhapani
On 23 November the Chinese declared a unilateral ceasefire but the hostilities did not stop immediately. Some fighting took place even after the declaration of the ceasefire. One of our valiant
ey mae could be and
machine was withdrawn from flying according to the manufacturers stipulation. They even did the third line servicing themselves.
In the summer of 1959, 104 Unit of two Sikorskies and two Bells was moved to Assam, the Bells travelling by Packets. By the end of August, the contingent was built up to two Sirkorskies and four Bells based at Jorhat. Supply dropping was already being done by the Air Force as well as the civil airlines. At this time, the helicopters were meant specially for airlifting Tibetan refugees after the Dalai Lama came to India. It was a new job in a new area, the Daporijo area on the Subansiri river. Majumdar, Jaswal Rajagopal, Adlakha, Johnson-Berry and few others helicopter pilots were busy on the job.
The Refugee Camp was in a place called Limekin, situated in a narrow valley at a height of 5,000 ft or so. The majority of refugees were the richer Tibetans attired in their traditional costumes and hats with magnificent knee-high boots. At times, the pilots found if difficult to take off and gain height even in the nine-seater helicopter with only four passengers aboard. It seemed inexplicable until they realised that these well-to-do people had laden themselves with solid gold. However, not all refugees were rich. There was a young boy who had either lost his family, or any rate lost touch with them, who thought that the helicopter pilot, his rescuer, had become his foster-father. His need for kindness and physical and emotional security overcame the language barrier-for neither Johnson-Berry nor he spoke a word of the others, language.
At times the choppers were stuck at limekin due to bad weather for as long as a couple of weeks at a time. Food would be in short supply and nerves on edge. The political officer’s wife came to their rescue by preparing dishes from local delicacies such as bamboo shoots. In desperation, one of the pilots, Majumdar, determined to catch a fish-with his bare hands. He settld down patiently besides the river and when he saw a flash in the water, he thrust his hand in and came up with a water-snake!
They waited eagerly for an aircraft to bring some meat on hoof, a live goat or two. When it cleared after a long spell of foul weather, an aircraft arrived. As it landed, even before the engines stopped, a friendly enquiry was made of the pilot in sign language: “Have you brought a nice big goat with a nice big beard?” The pilot signalled, pointing to his chin, that he had. The engines stopped; the door opened, and out hopped the sprightly bearded Sikh AOC-in-C of Operational Group I!
By November these helicopters were called back to Jorhat and 105 Unit was raised. Accommodation was still short and the crew still lived in tents.
By January 1960, the VIPs-the Defence Minister, the CAS, the COAS were using the helicopters for their visits to NEFA. The visit of the COAS, General Thimayya, was a surprise to the Army post at Limekin. The Major was away, a Subedar was incharge. How far away had the Major gone? Five days march, five days’ stay for rest and work, five days to come back-a fortnight at least. The General and his staff officer made themselves comfortable. The Subedar began to arrange for lunch. Johnson-Berry suggested that since that would take time, and if the weather turned foul, they would be trapped. After all the General had a schedule so, they settled for plates of pakoras, hot tea and some chitchat. “How many of you have been here for a year?” The General asked. All hands went up. “How many for two years?” About half the
you have been here for a year?” The General asked. All hands went up. “How many for two years?” About half the hands went.up. “How many for more than two years?” Quite a few hands went up. “Make a note,” said the General quietly to the staff officer, “nobody is to live behind God’s back for more than a year, at the most two if need be.”
By December 1960, the IAF acquired some MI 4 Russian helicopters and some pilots were sent to Russia to be trained. In 1961, the French Alouette III came for demonstration. M.Boulet, designer-cumtest pilot, gave a very successful demonstration flight from Kulu to Rohtang Pass and also landed at a height of about 19,000 ft. They made offers for manufacture under licence and of sale. But at this stage the Indian authorities did not think it would be a worthwhile investment.
Then 107 Helicopter flight was raised and moved to Leh. Jaswal, Narayanan, Williams were the leading pilots there. The flight assisted the Pioneer Company from the GREF to construct buildings, runways, hangars and such other structures for the Army and the Air Force. In 1962, the Sikorsky test pilot also gave demonstration flights. But the aircraft was damaged heavily when landing on the snow. Meanwhile MI 4s were also experiencing certain difficulties in the climatic conditions and terrain in which they had to be employed. They need a short runway like a STOL (short take-off and landing) aircraft when they are heavily loaded, specially in rarified atmosphere, which had to be provided. The Bell 47 G 3s felt this strain as well. So at some of our forward Army posts such as at Galwan in Aksai Chin, the helicopters, with the best will in the world, could not give the Army as much help as was needed particularly when they had to fall back before the advancing Chinese forces. For the pilots, activity, and even sleep, in the rarified atmosphere of those bare heights was a problem, often real, sometimes psychological. When it was the latter, even hugging an empty oxygen bottle helped the unsuspecting, causing much amusement among the acclimatised veterans.
The authorities finally made up their minds to invest in Alouette IIIs and some pilots were sent to collect them from France after being trained to fly them by the French Air Force. In view of the increasing tension in Sino-Indian relations, and the urgency of the situation, the Government of India succeeded in persuading the French government to wipe off the Mexican markings on some Alouette IIIs and divert them to India on a priority basis. They were transported in Packets. The Defence Minister, Mr. Krishna Menon, was present in person at Palam airport to meet the first Packet carrying the Alouettes.
In the meantime, No. llo Helicopter Unit was raised with MI 4s at Chandigarh. These helicopters were helping the Border Roads Organisation but when the hostilities started they were withdrawn and diverted for support to the Army in the eastern sector. Based at Tezpur they were extensively used at Tawang and Dhola. Detachments were based at Tawang and Darang and later at Tezu in the Lohit district as well in the Walong sector. But with the rapid Chinese advance, they had to fall back to Tezpur. One of these aircraft was lost near Walong due to enemy ground fire.
The first helicopter casualty in this region was a Bell flown by San Ldr V.K. Saigal, carrying Maj Ram Singh serving with 4 Infantry Division. When they did not return, San Ldr A.S. William, in another Bell, went to look for Saigal in the Tsangdhar region. He located the missing helicopter, its rotar picketed with
care. But the Chinese appeared and shot up his helicopter as well—they got its oil pipeline. He managed to clear the ridge, land on a piece of small level ground beside a stream and was able to run back to his base. The area was soon completely overrun by the Chinese. The Indian Army was routed and the helicopter unit had to withdraw to Tezpur. But they had airlifted suppplies and evacuated troops and casualties to their utmost capacity.
The Alouette IIIs and the pilots trained in France-Johnson-Berry, Rajagopal, Sinha, Dheer-arrived in November during the lull between the first phase of the fighting and the second. They were pressed into service immediately and did commendable work in this sector.
Regrouping
WITH DICKENS WE can say, “It was the best of times, it was the, worst of times”. Worst, obviously, because we were utterly humiliated in front of the world. As President Radhakrishnan said: “They came into our house, slapped us and have gone back.” In October 1962, at Thagla Ridge, Namka Chu and in the Walong sector, our Army was outnumbered and outgunned. We were also in a position of disadvantage, being down in the valley while the Chinese troops commanded the heights and shot down at our men. At Namka Chu, the Army was forbidden to withdraw, not even to a position of advantage. But the loss of morale was such that in November, at Sela and Bomdila, as one of the participants* put it, though our forces were not inadequate in number or firepower and were in positions of advantage, fairly well fortified and victory was not far, yet they were ordered to leave their positions “for unknown reasons, leading to an unparalleled debacle thrust upon them.” There were two schools of thought within the Army regarding its own strength or weakness, will to fight or lack of it, and they were diametrically opposite.
The question of morale is a tricky one. A part of it is intrinsic emotional and intellectual integrity, honesty with oneself and the other part is a kind of face-saving with others. It is a common problem in all wars, in fact not only in wars but also in many difficult jobs. After a determined and serious spell of fighting, even where victory and success may be within reach, the participants are physically and mentally exhausted. Losses, specially of lives-of friends and comrades-are bound to affect the survivors. Then comes the real test of morale which will seriously affect the rest of the fighting and thereby victory will hang in the balance. There are interesting accounts of it relating to the famous Battle of Britain when even “first class material” was seen to be demoralised. Where coaxing failed, Commanding Officers have been known to threaten shirkers with dire consequences in order to force them out of apathy and pessimism and galvanise them into action. I must confess that I have also known this feeling. In the Burma campaign while going on sorties over territories occupied by the Japanese, there was the urge to go, to prove myself, to lead others. But, at the same time, I cannot say that I was never afraid, that I never thought I may not return. However, the job had to be done and done to the best of one’s ability. And done it was.
Why, though, should this time be considered the best of times” as well? Because we were
disillusioned about our capabilities-of thought as well as action; and that was needed badly for our national health. It jolted us out of our self-complacency. The assessment by our eminent political leaders of the Sino-Indian political relationship was quite wrong and the necessary preparations were totally inadequate. This was the first time since the limited fighting in Kashmir immediately after independence that India’s sagacity, strength and resolve were tested and found wanting. This rude and costly shock woke us up to reality. A lot of rethinking, a lot of work had to be done. The Air Force set about building its 45 Squadrons.
Procurement is not simply a matter of buying from a seller in involves a lot of political intrigues and has extensive implications. Different types of aircraft for multifarious duties have to be acquired. The supply of spares has to be ensured. Pilots, engineers, all the technical staff have to be trained. Command and control have to be reorganised from what was a suitable for a smaller, simpler Air Force to a much larger body of a more complicated technological capability. Account must be taken of increased responsibilities with the increase in the perception of threat to our national security and territorial integrity, particularly along the entire northern border which was earlier considered to be physically inviolable and politically secure.
In the way of combat aircraft, we already had the Mysteres, the Hunters, the Gnats, the Canberras and of course the older Vampire and Toofanis (Ouragons) The Mig deal was concluded and put into effect. But induction of new types takes time however, much one may try to hurry up the process. The Maruts (HF 24s) were also on the production line. In transport aircraft, in addition to the sturdy Dakotas and Fairchild Packets (C 1195), we acquired some IL 145. AN les were acquired in 1961. The same year some Super-Constellations were taken over from Air India. Caribous were bought after the war with China. With their STOL (Short Take-off and Landing) capacity, and the same facility of the considerably smaller aircraft, the Otters, these machines have been much used in the relatively inaccessible mountainous regions. We also had a variety of helicopters. One can either marvel at or be amused by the variety of sources of supply specially if one thinks of the complexity of inventories and maintenance facilities required. But of course there are obvious advantages in this situation, specially when the country is not self-sufficient.
Work for HAL multiplied by leaps and bounds. HAL was initially Hindustan Aircraft Limited but from 1964 it become Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd., comprising of not only the old HAL but also Aeronautics India Ltd which had been set up in 1963 to organise the Mig-21 manufacturing complex and the Aircraft Manufacturing Division at Kanpur set up by Mr Krishna Menon, in 1959 under the supervision of Air Vice Mshl Harjinder Singh. The Mig project itself meant three new factories-one each for airframes, engines and electronics. The airframe factory was set up at Nasik, in Maharashtra, the electronic one at Hyderabad and the one for the manufacture of engines at Koraput. One may very reasonably ask: “But where is Koraput?” And thereby hangs a tale.
Koraput is in Orissa. The location was chosen by the ruling party no doubt with an eye on politics and votes: the slogan is “Development of the backward areas, social progress.” So, deep in the heart of the hilly
area of Orissa, where the tribals did not even live by agriculture but by their bows and arrows, where they had not even heard of, leave alone manufacture, even buckets and mugs, where absolutely no industrial labour could possibly have been available, the industrial plant was located. The entire township, including roads, had to be built from scratch.
The charms of the pastoral atmosphere persisted for quite a while. When the construction work of the industrial part was almost complete, even though the residential part was not, the inauguration was celebrated with much fanfare. Guests were invited and put up at guest houses. The managing director’s bungalow was partly up but still far from completion. In the semidarkness of dawn, the chowkidar and the early risers could see a large heavy, dark, hairy quadruped form lumbering around the sitting room of the MD’s bungalow. It was a bear! The poor thing was panic stricken to find itself surrounded by human bipeds and chased.
When dwelling quarters for the workers came up a man passing by the quarters had a big dollop of something soft, brown and smelly land on his head. It was cowdung; somebody had taken his cow upstairs, lodged it there and was enjoying the benefits.
Eventually everything came up as planned. But having the airframe factory at Nasik and the engine factory at Koraput was like having one’s socks upstairs and shoes downstairs: The aeroplanes have been produced but whether by the quickest, most efficient and economical methods is open to debate. With the growth in the size and the responsibilites of the Air Force, the command and control structure had to be reconsidered and readjusted. Originally the commands were organised on a functional basis. The first to be formed was Training Command, on 1 February 1948, with headquarters at Bangalore. Operations was still a Group at Palam which had been formed soon after independence. That was promoted to a Command two years later, on 15 September 1949. Maintenance Command was formed at Kanpur on Republic Day 1955. But even before the Chinese affair, the need for an Eastern Air Command was felt and it was formed on 1 December 1959, with headquarters at Calcutta. Then the operational commands started being formed on a regional basis. In October 1962, with the Chinese threat imminent Number One Operations Group was formed with headquarters at Tezpur in Assam. Operations Command at Palam became Western Air Command in June 1963. Central Air Command was formed with headquarters at Allahabad in Uttar Pradesh. HQ Eastern Air Command was then moved from Calcutta to Tezpur, to be one with the No.1 Operational Group there. Also HQ Maintenance Command moved from Kanpur to Nagpur. By the end of the year 1963 Eastern Air Command moved from Tezpur to Shillong.
In spite of these various moves we did not have enough Air Force stations strategically located to be able to operate effectively. We needed some more in the west and many in the east. Pathankot, Adampur and Chandigarh Air Force Stations were developed in the Punjab; Bareilly, Lucknow, Gorakhpur in Uttar Pradesh; Darbhanga in Bihar; Bagdogra (that is Siliguri) and Hashimara in the north of Bengal. Tezpur in Assam was already in use. Chhabua had been built by the Americans during World War II; it had one of the longest and strongest runways in India meant for their B 29 bombers which operated overland, “over the hump” across to China and Japan. Unfortunately, it had not been kept up. It had to be redone and
revived. Mohanbari was for transport aircraft. Dinjan was also set up. Gauhati was a civil airport to begin with but it was taken up by the Air Force. Silchar (Kumbhirgram) was revived.
When attacked by China, we asked for help from both the USA and UK. From UK we received some ammunition for the army and some winter clothing. From the USA we got some extremely nonlethal assistance-some old Packet aircraft and some spare engines. Since we have had Packets C 119 since 1954 this was of virtually no help at all.
From the USA we also received some old Radar Units, ADGES as they were known-the Air Defence Ground Environment System. A plan for a troposcatter communication system was agreed to mutually. It had hardly got under way when it was suspended after the installation of the first unit because of the 1965 war with Pakistan. Our own technicians managed the rest.
India wanted one squadron of C-130 Lockheed Hercules for transport. A squadron of C-130s did come to Delhi in December 1962. From Delhi they used to fly direct to Leh. The pilots were amazed to see the primitive conditions, the lack of flying and landing aids, in which our men were flying every day. They laid their own communication network and went back home in about six weeks. In this space of time the USA got acquainted with our plans but did not oblige us. We finally got the Russian counterpart, the AN 12 which has a similar carrying capacity, sturdiness and performance. We also asked for F 1045, but without political strings attached. Again the US refused to oblige. They offered us Freedom Fighters for ground attack and air defence but these were really no match for the F 104.
For quick expansion of the force, another measure resorted to was to reduce, or rather compress, the flying as well as technical training courses to half the time. Of course it produced a larger air force in a shorter time. The recruitment of officers and men was also increased frantically. The thought of career planning for the future worried me and I expressed my thoughts and fears to the Chief, Aspy Engineer, who said laconically, “It will be your worry, not mine.” Whether these measures were really warranted by the situation, and whether they achieved the intended efficiency and confidence to win a war, is for an evaluator of future events to judge.
In the post-Chinese-war period, India suffered a loss in the death of Pandit Nehru on 27 May 1964. Whatever mistakes he made, or whatever blindspots he may have had, he was a great man by any standards, a cosmopolitan man, a world figure. In the same year the IAF had a significant gain in having Air Mshl Arjan Singh as the Chief of Air Staff on 1 August 1964. He was, and is, a man of quiet courage, no flamboyance, a rare combination of dignity, modesty, firmness and decision-all sterling qualities. He was a flier till the end of his tenure, with knowledge, perception and experience of the problems as well as the exhilarations of flying. But he inherited the constraints within which he had to work,the responsibility of more than doubling and forging a sophisticated organisation like an air force within the shortest possible time. Air Mshl Engineer had been at it for a year and a half before he retired. Could Air Mshl Arjan Singh imagine when he took over as CAS that the test would come in just another year?
Not long after I was reappointed in the Air Force, I was provided with an opportunity to do some
* Lt Coll.R. Saigal, The Unfought War of 1962, Allied Publishers. New Delhi 1979, p. 70.
* History of the Corps of Engineers, Palit and Palit, 1980, pp. 122-23.
* Lt Col. J.R. Saigal, The Unfought War of 1962, Allied Publishers, 1979.
serious stock-taking-both personal and professional. It so happened that I have always been interested in gliding; I was the President of the Delhi Gliding Club for four years, from January 1958 to February 1962. On the afternoon of the first Sunday in February 1963 I was at the Club, gliding. There was a new glider, Ashwini, to be tested. I decided to take it up. It was an ideal afternoon for this sport. I took off, got a thermal, floated around for a while in the sunny, blue, mild-winter early-spring sky, then decided to land. I don’t know what mental aberration I went through, but after coming in to land I changed my mind-I thought I would stay up for a while longer. Instead of landing, I tried to increase speed and gain height while I was still about eight or ten feet off the ground. However, I had already lost so much speed that the glider stalled. It dropped to the ground, dragged on for a little while and then finally came to a stop and collapsed. It was a sheer error of judgment. One moment a man may feel, and be, right on top of the world – figuratively and literally-and the next moment he may be down in the dumps. The glider was damaged and so was I.
My spine felt the shock. Safdarjung Hospital was next door. I was taken there immediately for an Xray. On a Sunday afternoon, it was difficult to find a doctor, at least in the X-Ray department the man in attendance there asked me, “Sahib where does it hurt?” I pointed out the area. He took an X-ray of that part of my back, and we waited. After the X-ray was developed, he looked at it and said reassuringly, “Do not worry, Sahib, all is well. It may pain a little for a few days, so take some rest.” I came back home and went to bed. But staying in bed for a week did not help. The pain became worse and I was unable to stand.
Finally I went to the Military Hospital where they X-rayed the spine and located the offending vertebra. It was in the lumbar-dorsal region-crushed and cracked and slightly out of alignment. I was not allowed to return home even to collect my nightsuit and toothbrush. I was laid on a stretcher and incarcerated in a room in the hospital. Within a couple of days the doctors tried to put me in plaster, but I fainted in the process. So they gave up the idea and instead ordered me to be flat on my back on a hard bed for the next three months. This totally horizontal way of life needed a little getting used to. The first few days were awful. But it is surprising how much adjustment the human system can take.
I learnt to shave myself in that posture. I had a special stand made which enabled me to read, write and even type in bed. While lying in bed, in pain and discomfort, a flash of conversation went through my mind: “Sahib, do not ride in a new vehicle during the next few months”—the prediction I heard at Jaipur. By “vehicle” I had understood a car. But a glider was also a vehicle and Ashwini was new!
My office more or less moved into my hospital room for the morning hours. Being the AOM meant looking at certain problems of the Air Force from new angles. And lying in the quiet of a hospital room gives one time to mull over problems. Some of those thoughts I put down on paper (see Appendix A). Some of the ideas have been implemented since but there are other points and general guidelines which may still be of help.
I worked as AOM for just under one year. On 24 November 1963 I was posted as AOC-in-C Western Command and on 1 October 1964 I moved to Air Headquarters as Vice Chief of Air Staff.
Indo-Pak War 1965: The Second Round
oly
AIR MARSHAL M. ASGHAR KHAN, the ex-Pakistan Air Force Chief of eight years’ standing, (and CO of No. 9 Squadron of the prepartition undivided Indian Air Force in 1946) called it “The First Round”. It was not so. The first round was actually fought in 1947-48 in Kashmir. This was the second round.
Pandit Nehru, by his policy of non-alignment had hoped to steer India clear of wars which retard the development of a nation, specially where a considerable section of the population is still in the grip of poverty, illiteracy and conservatism: “War is the last luxury that such nations can afford.” Under our difficult economic and social conditions, with a vast population consisting of major and minor sections coming from different ethnic groups, professing different faiths and creeds, elements that contribute substantially to fanaticism, bigotry and factions, the infant independent government of India voluntarily chose the difficult ideal of secularism and, if we may use the phrase, of socialistic democracy. Socialism and democracy, like most other creeds can be of varying shades and hues. Very few terms and concepts are absolute. India did not regress to the path of theocracy and medievalism. Not that there were, or are, no fissiparous tendencies. These are bound to exist in an open society which consists of an amalgamation of varied units such as in our country. But the Government of India chose the task of confronting the problems, of trying to develop a rich harmony from their varying contributions to the matrix of social culture. However, this political philosophy and wisdom has not spared India from being attacked four times since independence. And once Pakistan became a member of military pacts with the USA since 1954 and started receiving substantial quantities of sophisticated military hardware under the Military Assistance Programme (MAP) the hope of bilateral settlement between India and Pakistan receded and the USSR became involved in the fortunes of India.
The strategic importance of Kashmir for India’s self-defence was demonstrated clearly by the Chinese attack on India in 1962. Subsequently, Pak flirtations with Beijing started. Political expedience, indeed, makes strange bed fellows: there are no permanent friends or foes in that world. Sheikh Abdullah and his National Conference Party won the elections in Kashmir in 1951. The Maharaja lost his powers. On 24 July 1952 Pandit Nehru announced in the Lok Sabha that Kashmir would have a special status, different from any of the other erstwhile Indian states. For instance, Kashmiris could, and can and do, buy property anywhere in India but conversely other Indians cannot acquire property in Kashmir. When Maharaja Sir Hari Singh abdicated, his son, Dr. Karan Singh, was elected the first Chief of the State. Article 370 of the
Indian Constitution acceded to Kashmir its special status. But power is a heady wine. Seldom does it fail to change those who come to possess it and this case was no exception. In August 1953, the Sheikh cabinet split. His deputy, Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, along with a few others turned against him and the toppling game started. The Sheikh was removed from his position and arrested. Not that the next government, that of Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad was not corrupt or unscrupulous. In February 1954 the Kashmir Assembly ratified the accession of Kashmir to India and within two months even the customs barriers were removed. Kashmir’s position as part of the Indian Union was endorsed by President Rajendra Prasad on 14 May 1954, observing the legalities of Article 370. The whole affair was formalised by January 1957. In another three years, the Supreme Court assumed jurisprudence over the State. Sheikh Abdullah was in and out of jail during the following years. Pakistan was naturally unhappy with these measures and must have felt that the issue was slipping out of its hands.
In 1962, India’s losing the war with China left parts of the Indian Army in disarray. The realisation by Pandit Nehru of his own miscalculations and lack of judgment left him with a broken heart; he was not the man for political wranglings and wars. He died on 27 May 1964, a disappointed and tired man. His mantle fell on Shri Lal Bahadur Shastri, an individual of similar temperament and political thinking. But this genuine and saintly man did not have the background and international stature of Panditji. He was a modest, honest Indian who discharged his responsibilities efficiently and courageously.
In 1965 Pakistan obviously had the feeling that they were right on top of the world. President Ayub Khan had been at the helm of State affairs in two capacities for quite a while. In January 1951 he became the C-in-C of the Pakistan Armed Forces. He was a powerful man, active not only in the military but in the political sphere as well; he was influential in making their foreign policy.
On 27 October 1958, in a military coup, Ayub Khan had ousted Gen Iskandar Mirza, the president of twenty days’ standing and installed himself in full power. He introduced land reforms and the agricultural growth rate increased. The USA pumped in funds for industrial growth which, however, concentrated its benefits in the hands of a few already rich, influential families which amassed even bigger private fortunes. The press was totally controlled. Jingoism and the anti-India campaign was intensified through every media. “Crush India’ stickers were visible at many places. Internationally President Ayub Khan spared no effort at building up a solid Muslim block and replacing India’s lead and influence in Afro-Asian countries. He courted Nepal on India’s northern border. In his overflow of friendship for the USA in July 1961 in his address to the joint session of the USA Congress, he pleaded the cause of unending American aid to Pakistan for the reason that if there is “real trouble” (meaning Communist trouble?) “there is no other country in Asia where you will be able to even put your foot in. The only people who will stand by you are the people of Pakistan”. Four years later, the same man said in Beijing on 3 March 1965 (as reported by Dawn) that “Pakistan and China were united by a common determination to eradicate the last vestiges of imperialism in all its forms.” He added later: “Friendship with China is for us a long-term policy and not a matter of expedience.”
In January 1965, an election was staged and the military dictator emerged as an elected president.
The opposition clamoured for more political freedom. East Pakistan, with the majority of the population, had many grievances-economic, political and cultural. Anti-Indian propaganda was one of the means of trying to keep the divergent elements of Pakistan together. In Air Mshl Asghar Khan’s book, in Appendix II, is given the translation of a speech made by him in Urdu at Lahore on 22 September 1968, which looks like a commemoration of the war of 1965. He says, “This was a war not only for the preservation of our independence, but for the preservation of our very existence. Pakistan was faced with an enemy who had given ample proof of her bad faith. India had driven away from their hearths and homes over seven million Muslims and pushed them into Pakistan.” This sort of blatant rabble-rousing, malicious, aggressive statement was made not only three years after the war to keep the hatred for India alive but it had been used continuously on the largely illiterate population year after to motivate anti-Indian feelings. It is interesting to compare this attitude and the resulting war-hysteria with the observations of a disinterested, hence impartial, distinguished foreign journalist:
The possibility of Indian military action to occupy all or a substantial portion of Azad Kashmir was never very strong and it had been virtually eliminated by the Sino-Pak border agreement and the establishment of a Chinese bridgehead at Hunza. The probability of Chinese involvement through any Indian attack in the strategic territories near the Chinese positions was logically a sufficiently strong deterrent to quiet the legitimate Pak military fears of any but the most limited Indian military action against Azad Kashmir. Pakistan of course could not afford to lose any of the Azad Kashmir for internal political reasons any more than India could afford to give up any part of Indian Kashmir…. The tacit division of Kashmir along the ceasefire line had persisted without significant domestic difficulties in either country. It probably could have been formalized, as India frequently suggested, without undue trouble. *
communication, engineering and medical equipment and some light infantry weapons for mountain divisions, about half the promised amount was delivered by the USA by around mid-1965 and a little more than that by the UK. Even this help was stopped when hostilities started between Pakistan and India. To partly balance the lavish US assistance given to Pakistan, India succeeded in making the Mig deal with Russia. The Mig deal was on rupee payment and India received the first twelve Mig 21s in early 1965. There was not enough lead time to reap full benefit of this combat aircraft before the fighting started in 1965 (production of this aircraft at HAL factories was scheduled for 1967). The transport aircraft, AN 125 and the helicopters MI 4s, that India bought from the USSR proved useful. But all the help received from the USSR was infinite small compared to the massive American concessions to Pakistan.
The way the Indian Army was deployed in Kashmir, in the Himalayas facing China, and near East and West Pakistan, makes it obvious that it was poised and ready for defence rather than for offensive action. The Pak Armed Forces, in contrast were prepared for a quick, though limited, offensive and were deployed relatively closer to the front. Their aircraft, though fewer in number than those of India, were more up to date. Their tanks had infra-red equipment, the night vision facility, and their artillery had longer range. So the balance was delicate.
With boundless selfconfidence, euphoria and aggressiveness, Pakistan indulged in a probing action in the Rann of Kutch, a marshy area about 300 miles long and 50 miles wide on the western seaboard of India, off the peninsula of Kathiawar. This was Operation Desert Hawk. The skirmishes started when the Indian police patrols met Pakistan Border Guards about a mile-and-a-half inside Indian territory. By early April 1965, the fighting had spread to within 10 miles north-west of the ruins of the fort at Kanjarkot. By 9 April, two battalions of Pakistani regulars attacked Sardar Post near Kanjarkot. Patton tanks and heavy guns took the battlefield. Finally a ceasefire was declared on 29 April. The British Prime Minister’s good offices steered these negotiations. If Pakistan was under the impression that India lacked the will or the capability to fight for her territorial integrity it was very much mistaken as events proved.
A general agreement was signed regarding the Rann of Kutch on 30 June. But even before the final demarcations were made, the border incidents and violations of the cease fire line in Kashmir increased. In the Kargil sector, along the Srinagar – Kargil-Leh road, Pakistan occupied positions of vantage, fortified heights from which their troops could shoot at the Indian Army convoys travelling on that road. In mid May 1965, two of these heights, 13620 (feet above sea-level, it had no other name) and Black Rock, were cleared of the Pakistani troops. To storm a height in this stark, barren, boulder-strewn landscape where there is not a shrub, let alone a tree, to screen one from the sight of the enemy sitting in the security of a fortified hill-top is, to put it midly, not easy. We visited 13620 in the summer of 1972. I asked the army officer showing us around what, in this difficult operation, had been the most difficult part. “Thirst,” came the reply. The bare stones are cold at night in these heights, “stone cold” as the saying goes. During the day when the sun beats down, they become hot, much hotter than ordinary earth. The soldier had to calculate how long would it take him for the final climb by night to complete the assault. The entire operation had to be done under the cover of darkness. The soldiers would have to be at the required
In 1964 Pakistan again asked for a meeting of the Security Council at the UN regarding Kashmir. Justice Chagla represented India and Z. A. Bhutto Pakistan, the burden of the latter’s song being, “India is in perpetual aggression against Pakistan” whatever that word “aggression” may mean in physical, tangible facts. The verbal duel resolved nothing. Meanwhile the border incidents at the ceasefire line (CFL) in Kashmir kept on increasing. The UN peace-keeping forces were fully aware of all this.
In sum, Pakistan had several morale-boosters such as an improving internal economy, a vigorous anti-India campaign to unify the divergent constituent units of Pakistan and a prop in the increasingly powerful neighbour China which exploded its first nuclear device in 1964, a successful foreign policy by which Pakistan managed to get military aid from capitalist as well as communist countries, countries with diametrically opposite ideologies, theories and commitments and the solid backing of the Islamic block which India was also trying to court because of the large Muslim population in India. And in March 1965, a Sino-Pak Border Protocol Treaty was signed.
Of the modest military assistance for India which was agreed to by the USA and the UK during the 1962 conflict with China, consisting of fairly non-lethal items such as spares for transport aircraft,
morning, in the early hours and then lie still under the shadow, or in the shelter, of suitable boulders during the day, hoping and praying not to be detected. The most nerve-racking time was waiting, lying still on these hot bare stones. Movement and liquid intake had to be minimised. I asked what the reaction of the troops was when they managed this very difficult task; when they reached the top and took it after tough hand-to-hand fighting. “Sir, they were too exhausted by the time the battle and the tension were over to feel any elation or triumph. But going through the stock-pile of the provisions there, they found tins of good ghee (melted and clarified butter) for cooking and they said with a wry smile, Sahib, Hind Sarkar gives us only Dalda” (vegetable oi!)!” Everyone of us should know that we owe more than we realise to our Army. In peace time it may be a piece of cake, but they more than pay it back in time of war.
To return to the point, in mid-May 1965 two or three posts were taken after very hard fighting because the Pakistani troops close by would not let our troops use our own road. Yet barely a month later these same posts were handed back to Pakistan after the ceasefire agreement. And the Pale troops returned again to their old tricks. Was this testimony of “good faith”? These posts were re-taken by the Indian troops again after heavy fighting. Yet again they were handed back after the Tashkent agreement in January 1966, much to the chagrin of our troops who had staked their lives and suffered considerable casualties.
Pakistan improved their fortifications, mined the area and placed their guns even more judiciously and used them again in 1971. Again the Indian troops were forced to take them, fighting in the subzero temperature of December; they succeeded against heavy odds and this time these posts were not returned to Pakistan. The fact, that these posts were returned to Pakistan in the first place in 1965 should have been proof enough that India was not planning a large offensive.
The case of Pakistan’s intentions was different. From the information gathered from prisoners taken from among the infiltrators, and corroborated by disinterested sources and the UN Observers, it is evident that the plan for a major infiltration into Kashmir was ready and that preparations were afoot by the end of May even before the final agreement over the Kutch dispute was reached. Kutch was a red herring; it was an attempt to entice a part of Indian forces of armour, artillery and infantry away from the battle grounds of Punjab in the north and keep them tied down in the south.
of transport and communication.
The operation was launched on 5 August. Infiltrators crossed the ceasefire line at well-chosen points and reached deep inside Kashmir before they were detected. Pakistan asssesed that an internal uprising, a revolt in Kashmir would occur and the people were then to be “liberated” by them. The revolt did not take place. The UN observer team, headed by Gen Nimmo, saw all this and reported it to their own headquarters as it came to light later. Why this report was not given more publicity when it might have made a difference in the course of events that followed, is difficult to understand. Did it serve the interest of some influential members of the UN not to do so? Was it the belief, a confidence shared with Pakistan, that however, serious the infiltration and the ensuing fighting in Kashmir, India would retaliate only locally?
By mid-August, a strong Pakistani contingent crossed the CFL and launched an attack in the Jammu sector. Using heavy artillery and mortar, they succeeded in capturing several Indian posts. Within days, they were shelling Tithwal, Uri, Poonch areas. The PAF C-130s dropped supplies for them. In Kargil sector they again started persistent sniping at the Leh-Kargil-Srinagar road. In retaliation, the Indian Army again accomplished the difficult task of retaking the heights that were given back to Pakistan so recently, at the end of the Kutch hostilities. In the Tithwal area, the Indian Army managed to capture the peak Pir Saheb. In the Uri sector, after hard fighting, they took the Haji Pir Pass by an outflanking movement as also the adjoining bulge which provided easy access to the infiltrators. Yet these areas, sources of constant irritation to India and in flagrant violation of the CFL, were again given back to Pakistan at the end of the fighting by the Tashkent agreement.
On 1 September 1965, Pakistan struck in force at Chhamb. This was a most vulnerable area for India, with easy access from Paksitan, an area of great strategic importance. It was a step to cut off the line of communication between Indian Punjab and Kashmir. The Pakistanis used heavy artillery, about seventy to eighty tanks and two Infantry brigades. India had only one-third the manpower and a small tank force, because India had observed the agreement regarding limitations of troops and armour at the CFL. There were, however, more troops in the rear which were moved forward when the heavy attack by Pakistan army was launched.
The IAF was kept informed of what was happening and was more or less ready for ground support but they could not give it till asked to do so by the Government and the Army. A detachment from No. 45 Vampire Squadron at Pune and also from 220 Squadron had moved up to Pathankot on 30 August. On the afternoon of 1 September, the Army Chief, Gen J.N. Chaudhari, asked the Defence Minister to request the Indian Air Force for ground support. The DM’s request came at 4 p.m. By 5.19 p.m. the Vampires at Pathankot were airborne. Twelve Vampires took part in the operation. They had been waiting on alert for such a signal all day. They had to fly westward in the late afternoon, clearly etched in the eastern sky, almost blinded by the setting sun, such was the need of the hour, the importance of the mission. They carried out their mission well. But three of them flew into the sunset of their young lives. Flt Lts Bhardwaj, V.M. Joshi and Bhagwagar lost their lives; and Pathak baled out. The Vampires and the Mysteres flew 28
Operation Grand Slam
IN PAKISTAN-HELD KASHMIR a short, compulsory, military training programme for men between the ages of 16 and 45 years was launched with special emphasis on guerilla tactics. Thus a fairly large force of Mujahids and Razakars was raised and placed under the regular Pakistan Army. ‘Operation Grand Slam,’ as it was called, was the baby of Gen Akhtar Hussain Malik, in command of 12 Infantry Division. The newly-raised forces were armed with light machine guns, automatic weapons, hand grenades, and means of transport and communication.
estimate of the damage was 13 or 14 tanks, 2 guns and 62 vehicles destroyed and some more damaged. But exact figures are always a matter of understandable controversy. Mystere IVAs, subsonic in level flight but supersonic in dives, of Nos. 3 and 31 Squadrons took effective part in this operation. This was the first fullscale test of strength since the Kashmir Operation of 1947-48 which though serious was limited. By this time Pakistan had acquired so much sophisticated weaponry, thanks to the munificence of the USA that any talk of the numerical superiority of the Indian Army and Air Force lost all meaning.
The PAF came forward with the Sabre jets to rescue the Pak Army. About two dozen of them were armed with Sidewinder heat-seeking air-to-air missiles. These aircraft had a formidable reputation. The PAF had a hundred or so Sabres besides a dozen Lockheed Starfighters-the F-1045-similarly armed. What is more, the PAF had had them since about the mid-fifties, long enough to have lead time to master them. India, on the other hand, had received barely a dozen Mig 21s and that too only shortly before the fighting. So, apart from the Mysteres, Gnats and Hunters were the mainstay of the combat force of the IAF. The Gnats were used to provide an umbrella cover, an escort, flying at a higher altitude over the Mysteres as they did their job of ground support at a lower altitude. When the Sabres attacked them, the Gnats, very manoeuvrable specially in vertical dives, took their toll despite the Sidewinders, since they were effective only within some flight-parameters. San Ldrs Trevor Keeler and A.S. Sandhu and Flt Lt V.S. Pathania shot down a Sabre each on the 3rd and 4th in this area. This finally allayed the doubts of some people in senior positions about the feasiblity of the investment in such a tiny, simple aeroplane as the Gnat. In its very first encounter with bigger, more powerful aircraft, the little Gnat, the David, proved its worth agianst Goliath. After this initial success, there was no looking back. Full confidence was established and they were used for bold offensive sweeps.
The Pakistan Army reaped the benefit of initial surprise over the enemy at Chhamb. By 2 September they had occupied about thirty square miles, upto a depth of five miles (8 km) east of the CFL to the Munnawar-Tawi river and six miles north of the border to Chhamb village. They achieved this by an outflanking movement, coming from the east instead of the west as expected. By 5 September they were at the village called Jaurian, on the way to the crucial Akhnoor bridge over the river Chenab. Akhnoor is only about twenty miles from Jammu and if Pakistan had succeeded in covering this distance, they would have cut our life-line to Kashmir. But they could not; they were halted there.
Sibal, and the third was still further south, from Khemkaran in India towards Kasur in Pakistan, under Major General Gurbaksh Singh.
Between India and Pakistan, more or less parallel to the border, the Ichhogil Canal runs north-south for about seventy miles from the river Ravi to the Sutlej. Also known as the B.R.B.- Bambansala-Ravi Bedian, Canal it is a protective moat about ninety to a hundred and forty feet wide and about fifteen feet deep. It has fairly high, steep cement-concrete sidewalls and strong fortifications along its embankments in the way of pillboxes, bunkers, tank-hides and gun-emplacements with numerous bridges across it. They were about six tank regiments on each side. India had a little more of Infantry but Pakistan had more artillery-of better quality and longer range, thanks to the USA. And Pak Air Force air-support was intense.
On 6 September, in the northern-most drive here, the Infantry, 3 Jats, along with the Division Commander, raced ahead of their own armour, crossed the Ichhogil and by ten in the morning reached Jallo where the Bata Shoe Factory was. But due to the action of Pakistani tanks and the Pakistan Air Force, the relatively small advance party had to withdraw. The Division Commander was ambushed near the Canal the next day. He managed to get away but the enemy captured a number of his men and a few jeeps. Maj Gen Prasad had apparently asked for permission to start earlier in order to take advantage of a few hours of darkness but this request was not granted. Also he wanted his Division to be left intact to be effective. But in the over-all plan this request also could not be fitted in and his division was split up. Maj Gen Sibal succeeded in capturing Burki on the eastern side of the Ichhogil about twelve miles from Lahore on 10 September. Maj Gen Gurbaksh Singh’s offensive did not succeed. In spite of fierce fighting, the enemy occupied Khemkaran on 10th and our men had to fall back.
North of the Grand Trunk Road, a little to the south of Jammu in the Sialkot sector, another fairly big four-pronged attack was launched by 1 Corps under the command of Lt Gen P.O. Dunn on the night of 7/8 September. This offensive relieved the pressure of Pakistani concentration in the Chhamb sector in the southwestern corner of Kashmir. The four Major Generals in charge of the four thrusts were Sparrow Rajinder Singh, S.K. Korla, Ranjit Singh and M.L. Thapan. The one that achieved the most was Maj Gen Thapan’s, securing a foothold across the Suchetgarh-Sialkot Road. Each inch of ground was bitterly fought for. Phillaura area was fought over from the 8th to the 15th and was finally secured as was the Alhar railway station, disrupting the rail-link betwen Pasrur and Sialkot. But Chawinda proved a hard nut to crack. Places such as Libbe, Maharajke, Subazpir between Phillaura to the south and Aik Nadi in the north changed hands more than once. Then it became to a stalemate, neither side making much headway.
Although we lost Khemkaran where the Pakistani i Armoured Division had struck, our army, infantry and armour-regrouped a little to the north-east of Khemkaran near a village called Asal Uttar which has now become wellknown in our war history. In this area Generals Gurbaksh Singh and Joginder Singh Dhillon made a determined stand. Here the Pakistani Patton tanks with their redoubtable reputation, their gunrange of 2000 yds or so, their infrared sights for night operation and equipped with a computer-operated weapon-system, were trapped and became bogged down in close formation amidst the
Doubled
OUR PRIME MINISTER have declared unequivocally time and time again, that an attack on Kashmir is an attack on India. So in retaliation India launched an offensive on 6 September in the Punjab with a threepronged drive westward. The one along the Grand Trunk Road was under Major General Niranjan Prasad; the second was a little further south, from Khalra in India towards Burki in Pakistan, under Major General Sibal, and the third was still further south, from Khemkaran in India towards Kasur in Pakistan, under
about thirty Pattons intact, destroyed about fifty and damaged about twenty. In this battle 18 Raj Rifles and 4 Grenadiers covered themselves with glory. Havildar Abdul Hamid won the Param Vir Chakra, the highest Indian award for personal gallantry, (the other recipient of this award, posthmously, was Lt Col Tarapore of the Poona Horse). The battles fought in the Sialkot sector and at Asal Uttar are considered to be some of the biggest tank battles since World War II.
The Pakistanis made an attempt to come towards Amritsar but were thrown back. Fierce fighting took place at the bridge over the Ravi at Dera Baba Nanak. Ultimately the bridge was so damaged that it was impossible for either of the contenders to cross over with heavy vehicles.
In the Rajasthan sector and Sind our Army was not able to make much headway. They lost some posts and territory and gained some too. Intelligence, specially regarding the conditions of the roads in the sandy terrain, was grossly insufficient.
What did the Air Force do? The raison d’etre, the reason for its very existence, is to try to neutralise the enemy’s various war-potentials in wartime, by every possible means and to protect one’s own. This means a plethora of jobs which involve not only aircraft, the air crew and ground crew but a variety of equipment and trained personnel as well. It includes offence as well as defence. One’s own bases have to be protected in various ways, including by radar, by Combat Air Patrols (CAPs), by maintaining part of the force of forward bases in absolute operational readiness, ready to take off in ninety seconds when called “to scramble”. Camouflage and dispersal of machines and men are of prime importance. When we have not realised this, and once in a while we have not, as at Kalaikunda, we have paid for it. But these are all means of defence, whereas. success lies in offence.
Offensive sweeps of fighter-bombers and bombers have to be planned and organised with skill, imagination, and the greatest of care. The success of attacks over enemy airfields, of interdiction missions, of hitting at the enemy’s lines of communication and their supply lines such as railways, roads and bridges, or sources of energy such as oil refineries, storage facilities and gas plants depends as much on intelligence provided and reconnaissance as on the skill in operations and, last but certainly not the least, on the morale of the flying crew pressing home the attack. They form the cutting edge of the service.
All this an Air Force does to fight its own battles. But an Air Force has the unique role of fighting not only its own battles but also participating in those of the Army and Navy as well. It is more mobile and faster than the other two forces and has literally a bird’s-eye view of the whole area. It is no wonder the Army and the Navy are so keen on their own air-arms. Inter-Service planning and cooperation are the Air Force’s prerogative, and it is for the other two services to take full advantage of the available possibilities and capabilities. As in 1947-48 and 1962 so in 1965, the Air Force was willing and ready.
as those at Ferozepur in Punjab and Porbunder in Gujarat were also attacked. The Sabres heading for Adampur were intercepted by four Hunters, the mission did not succeed. At Halwara also, the Hunters took on the Sabres and two Sabres were shot down, only one returned to Pakistan. At Pathankot the enemy managed to do some damage to a few of our newly acquired Mig 21s and a few Mysteres on the ground. But some of our young fighter pilots such as Flt Lt Rathor and Fg Offs Neb and Gandhi did well and earned praise even from the enemy for their courage and dexterity. Retaliating to the first enemy airraid early in the morning of 7 September at 5.30 a.m. six Mysteres raided Sargodha, the most important Air Force station in the Pakistan Punjab, perhaps in the whole of Pakistan. One Starfighter scrambled, attacked the Mysteres and shot one down. But another Mystere succeeded in shooting this Starfighter down, quite an achievement considering the relative merits of the two aircraft. There were four raids on Sargodha that day.
The same morning Calcutta (Barrackpore) and Kalaikunda to the west of Calcutta and Bagdogra in north Bengal were raided by PAF twice. India had launched the attack on West Pakistan in retaliation for the Pak aggression in Chhamb in Kashmir. In order to avoid escalation, there was no aggression on East Pakistan by the Indian Army. Hence, the first Pakistani attack in the east was unexpected and we incurred some losses on the ground. But in the second attack later in the morning, PAF lost two Sabres to our Hunters in the roaring air battle over Kalaikunda. The tall buildings at the Indian Institute of Technology at Kharagpur provided spectators’ galleries for this exciting battle. Once this front had opened there were no holds barred and the IAF paid a visit to Kurmitola, one of the two airports at Dhaka. Pakistan had very substantial anti-aircraft protection at their important airfields such as Sargodha, Mauripur (Karachi), Peshawar as well as at their Radar Signal Units of which Sakesar in the northern sector was very powerful as also at Badin in Sind, at Korangi Creek near Karachi and Dhaka. But in spite of all these precautions, our Air Force managed to bomb the airfields at Sargodha, Risalwala, Chak Jhumra, Multan, Nawabshah, Peshawar and Kohat, deep in enemy territory. In these raids and those on their western border on 7 September none were shot down by ack ack guns. We lost only one Canberra to ground fire over Sargodha on 21 September.
The partnership of the Mystere IVAs for ground attack and Gnats for fighter cover worked very well indeed. No.1 Mystere Squadron gave ground support in the Khemkaran sector at the famous battle of Asal Uttar. No. 31 Squadron struck at the supply line, shooting up trains carrying tanks and other essentials for the fighting. No. 32 Squadron was active along the Ichhogil canal and in the Lahore sector. These squadrons gave ground support in the Sialkot sector as well. Gnats of Nos. 29 and 23 Squadrons under the overall command of Wg Cdr Bharat Singh gave them cover. On 19 September, San Ldr Denzil Keeler and Flt Lt Vinay Kapila of No.9 Squadron shot down a Sabre each in the Phillaura-Chawinda sector.
The Hunter squadrons—7, 20 and 27—were busy doing a variety of jobs such as flying CAPs and interdiction missions, giving ground support in the major battlefields of Punjab. Raiwind Railway Station received special attention from them as did the Kasur-Khemkaran sector, the prize target was Patton tanks at battles such as the one at Asal Uttar.
The first attack on the Indian airbases close to the western border was launched on 6 September by Pakistan in the afternoon, at about five p.m. The targets were Adampur and Halwara from Sargodha, Pathankot and Srinagar from Peshawar and Jamnagar from Karachi. Some of our radar installations such as those at Ferozepur in Punjab and Porbunder in Gujarat were also attacked. The Sabres heading for
on 7 September. As a result there were some losses to both sides. A commissioned chronicler for Pakistan has written: “Although the rest of the IAF jet equipment, apart from the Gnat light fighters, was not particularly modern, it gave India the luxury of being able to afford attrition.” This is a heartless comment to make even against an enemy. It would have been more correct to say that neither party wanted a high rate of attrition.
Some changes and adjustments were made in the tactics- daylight raids were cut back by both sides, although there were some such attacks by Sabres on Srinagar and Jammu on 11, 13 and 14 September. On 13/14 night, the bombing of Peshawar by No. 5 Canberra Squadron was effective enough to lead to the removal of a part of the Pakistani bomber force to Risalpur. Of the relatively fewer day raids on 15 September our Canberras, escorted by Gnats, bombed Pakistan Army positions in the Kasur sector.
Henceforth Canberras of both sides did a lot of night bombing. No. 5 Squadron did the difficult job of ground support as well, along with the Mysteres, Gnats and Hunters. It was not an easy job for the bombers but they performed it well specially in the Chhamb and Khemkaran sectors. The night bombing did some damage to both sides at strategic targets. Although each side claims to have delivered a large tonnage of bombs on the other, luckily or unluckily some of the bombs failed to explode-they were old and had been supplied to the contending parties mostly by the same source. Pakistan admits to increasing the installation of anti-aircraft guns at stations like Sargodha, thus by implication admitting to the effectiveness of the night bombing.
Our Signals Unit at Amritsar, codenamed “Fish Oil” by Pakistan, invited much attention from the PAF. It was honoured with daily visits, morning, and evening, by an inrceasing number of Sabres escorted by F-104s and finally accompanied by four Canberras on the morning and evening sorties of 12 September. After that, the site had to be shifted. Towards the end of the war, on the 19th, the Jammu Signals Unit was damaged. Pakistan’s Signals Unit at Badin was bombed successfully by our own Canberras on 21 September.
Wg Cdr Jog and Flt Lts Rathor and Sinha were in the thick of the action in the Western Sector and have related their experience:
By August 1965, as Indo-Pak relations were hotting up again, the defence services were put on the alert. Officers and men were being posted from training establishments and National Cadet Corps (NCC) to augment the strength of squadrons because in case of a war, the operational readiness has to be twenty-four hours, day and night, round the clock. Pakistan was doing the same. But there were no fighters or bombers in Jammu and Kashmir because by the Cease Fire Agreement, neither the army nor the air force were to increase their strength in J&K. India honoured that agreement, may be foolishly. But outside J&K, air force bases had to be ready. The Mysteres were at Adampur, Hunters were moved to Halwara. No.7 Sqn come from Ambala to Halwara. Serviceability improved. Spares were moved up forward. Attack by PAF was expected. So from the second half of August, CAPs and dawn and dusk patrols were flown.
dusk patrols were flown.
In 1965, although India did get ready for the war, there was not enough time for preparations to be thorough. We had no previous experience of a full scale war. Our intelligence either was not enough or the authorities were so careful and secretive that the information was not fully available even to the people who were to do the actual fighting. We could do with more photographs of strategic reconnaissance. For the air force it was quite a handicap because we had to strike not merely at the border but deep inside enemy territory. There is so little time when the attacking aircraft are over the target that the more detailed the briefing before the flight, the better are the chances of success.
The battle in Chhamb in J&K was going on since the 1st September or even earlier. Perhaps Pakistan hoped that the fighting would be localised in Kashmir whereas India was absolutely committed on the point that an attack on Kashmir is an attack on India. So the Indian Army took the offensive in Punjab on the 6th. That evening, Pakistan unleashed its air attacks along the western border of India. That same afternoon; even before the attacks were launched by the PAF, four Hunters of No.7 Squadron were on patrol duty over the Tarntaran area, south-east of Amritsar. The formation was led by the CO; Wg Cdr Zachariah. His number two was San Ldr A. K. Rawlley (popularly known as Peter), number three was San Ldr M.M. Sinha and No. 4 was Flt Lt S.K. Sharma. They came upon four Sabres in our territory, flying low. On being spotted, they shed their droptanks and started gaining height. Our aircraft also shed their drop tanks and started gaining height in the battle that followed Rawlley lost his aircraft and his life.
A little later the same afternoon the PAF attack was launched on the air force bases at Adampur, Halwara, Pathankot and the radar units at Amritsar, Ferozepur in Punjab and Porbunder in Gujarat. The Adampur and Halwara raids were intercepted, thanks to our radars. The intercepters from Halwara, Flt Lt D.N. Rathor and Fg Offrs Neb from No. 27 Squadron and Fg Offrs Gandhi and Pingale from No.7 Squadron shot down three Sabres. The bombing missions by Canberras were started by both sides that night. On the 7th morning, the fighters took up the gauntlet.
Sargodha is a very big complex of air bases between the rivers Jhelum and Chenab, north-west of Lyallpur. There is Sargodha (main) in the middle with its satellites Chhota Sargodha further west, Wegowal a little to the north and Bhagatanwala, a little to the east. In India, at Halwara the target given to No. 27 Squadron was Chhota Sargodha, TOT (time over target) being 0615 hrs to follow up the Mystere raids launched from Adampur earlier. Travelling time would be about 28 or 29 minutes. These Pak bases were at the extreme range of our Hunters. By 0430 hrs when CO of 27 Sqn, Jog, was preparing for the raid in the operations room, a B 57 Canberra from PAF came over and attacked. Luckily there was no damage done to the runway, only minor damage to the dispersal area. So there was no
Pathankot, Adampur and Halwara, at about 2 a.m. That was a badly planned, futile effort. In the Pathankot area about sixty men were dropped. They landed amid a network of canals and were unable to rendezvouz. Pathankot is scarcely ten miles from the Indo-Pak border but only about ten of these men managed to return to Pakistan, the rest were apprehended. At Halwara and Adampur, some of the soldiers landed in the residential area of the station and some in, the surrounding sugar-cane fields who were caught by the villagers and handed over either to the police or the Army. What this operation aimed to achieve is difficult to understand.
change of plan. Six aircraft were detailed for this mission, the pilots being the CO, Wg Cdr Jog, San Ldr Kacker, Fg Offr Parihar and Flt Lt Choudhuri for attack and two more for escort. Hunters for ground attack and for air defence are loaded differently with ammunitions. Of the two escorts, the engine of one could not be started up. So there was only one as escort, flown by Flt Lt D.N. Rathor. We were not intercepted. We located the low Kirana Hills to our right. But when we arrived over the target, there were no aeroplanes parked in that airfield. Visibility was rather poor that morning. While returning, line astern, we saw another airfield straight ahead, with aircraft parked there. Rathor fired, nose down, but unfortunately overshot. We saw what looked like a factory ahead and attacked it. By then the hornet’s nest was touched. There were Sabres overhead. One on Rathor’s left was aiming to fire at Choudhuri so Rathor turned hard into him. They crossed each other. Homeward bound, Rathor fought a defensive battle. Suddenly he noticed Kackar in front losing speed. Jog reduced speed for the formation to stay together. But Kackar had a fuel problem. His Bingo lights, the fuel warning lights, came on and finally his engine flamed out. He had to eject. Choudhuri’s drop-tanks had been punctured by bullets. As the four of us were flying back, another five Hunters came along and passed us at great velocity, presumably from No.7 Squadron. We did not know of this plan, nor could we warn them that the Sabres and F 104s were on the prowl, because we were not on the same frequency.
It was not a wise plan for the base commander to send the second mission so soon because it could reasonably be expected that the PAF would already have been alerted by the earlier raid. By the time the four aricraft of No. 27 Squadron came to land at Halwara, with very little fuel in their tanks, three or No 7 were already landing. Their mission had been intercepted and aborted. With loss of two they came back. Two more Mystere sorties were done that day on Sargodha, one at about 0945 hrs and one at 1540 hrs.
A doubt lingered in the minds of the pilots of No. 27 Squadron who flew that sortie, “Did we reach the right target?”. With the paucity of information and allowing for an error of twenty-five or thirty miles, it is possible that they may have attacked Wegowal to begin with instead of Chhota Sargodha. The films that Rathor brought back seemed to confirm this doubt later. But as far as the performance of the Hunter aircraft is concerned, the Hunter pilots were confident that they were superior to the Sabres while the Sabres were no better than the Mystere IVAs. The Gnats out-accelerated and out-manoured the Sabres any day but the F-104s were something to be reckoned with.
The aggression in Kashmir was stopped successfully. Pakistan changed the command of their forces in the Chhamb sector from Gen Akhtar Hussain Malik, who had planned and initiated this operation, to Gen Yahya Khan,”changing horses midstream,” as Air Mshl Asghar Khan put it.
One aspect of the Pakistani plan remains puzzling. On the first night when the fighting began, the PAF paradropped from their C-130s a handful of commando forces on the three forward air bases,
India’s gains in these few days of fighting may not have been spectacular. In fact both sides claimed to be victorious. It is known now that Pakistan, having started the war by attacking Kashmir, began to run short of supplies by the end of the first week. Air Mshl Asghar Khan became their self-appointed itinerant emissary and supply-seeker to China, Indonesia, Turkey and Iran. It is possible that the reason for this shortage may partly have been poor planning. To the IAF goes the credit for successfully hitting at Pakistani forces as well as their stores of the necessary war-material and also their lines of communication and supply by blowing up trains carrying these goods. The Indian weapons and related equipment such as radar were not as sophisticated as those supplied to Pakistan by the USA (to stem the tide of communism!) but the IAF soon made the necessary tactical adjustments and prepared itself to fight “for the next six months”. Moreover, whereas Pakistan was fighting on one front, India had to be ready on more than one and therefore, had to divide her resources accordingly. The air force is that part of the defence forces of a country which has tremendous mobility. It is the air force that penetrates deep into a country, far beyond the line of actual fighting on the ground and has the capability to destroy or damage war potentials. And the IAF proved its capability.
Ayub Khan was worried. On 22 September 1965, at the UN Security Council, Z. A. Bhutto ranted: “We will wage a war for a thousand years.” Yet on 23 September-the very next day-the ceasefire was declared. President Ayub Khan is said to have dispensed with the services of about a dozen generals and forty or so colonels and brigadiers…the figures for the Government of India were not quite so high.
Three Mahavir Chakras (Wg Cdrs W. M. Goodman, P. P. Singh and San Ldr P. Gautam) and forty Vir Chakras were awarded. It has been possible to mention only a few names in this narrative; the achievements, the testimony of courage of the other awardees were no less. And the contribution of many, apart from the gallantry award winners, made possible the accomplishment of the job on a large scale.
Claims and counter claims after a war, specially where the outcome has not been very decisive, tend to be exaggerated. The loss or gain of territory is more or less clear. But an honest and correct estimate of the loss of equipment is extremely difficult to ascertain. This is partly due to national pride, propaganda value as well as the practical difficulties of making correct estimates. This happens in other countries as well. It had been said that exaggerated combat claims by both sides are usually in proportion to the number of aircraft in action because several pilots would take a quick shot at an enemy plane and each of them would report it as it went down. During World War II the Big-Wing claimed fifty-seven Germans
down whereas the post-war scrutiny of German records showed that only eight of the raiders failed to get home. * Including destruction and damage both in air combat and in attacks on airfields and by ground fire in enemy territory, Pakistan’s claim is as high as a hundred and ten aircraft destroyed and nineteen damaged. This is wildly optimistic-we actualiy lost about thirty-five aircraft. India claims seventy-three and Pakistan admits the loss of only about twenty of their machines, destroyed or damaged. The same psychology holds true regarding estimates of loss of tanks, armoured cars, artillery pieces and troops. The Indian Army claims to have captured thirty-eight tanks intact and put four hundred and seventy one out of action These figures may be debatable but India gave enough evidence to the discerning and unbiased that we had not, and we still do not have, any intention whatsoever of jeopardising “the very existence of Pakistan” although Pakistan has worked this piece of propaganda threadbare.
The personal experience of M.M. Sinha who took part in the 1965 war shows how misleading some of these claims and counterclaims can be. In 1969 both India and Pakistan had sent officers to the Joint Services Staff College at Latimer in England. One evening at the bar, a Pakistani officer attending the course was speaking to another Pakistani officer visiting him. Talking of old times with great satisfaction, he was recounting what happened at Sargodha in Pakistan on 7 September 1965, the morning after Pakistan launched their preemptive air attack on India on the afternoon of 6 September. The first raid by India at 5.30 a.m. that morning over Sargodha was by Mystere IVAs. The PAF Starfighter F 104s on patrol shot down two out of six. San Ldrs Jasbir Singh and Devayya were killed. The next raid, he said, was by Hunters and five of them were shot down by San Ldr Alam alone, as is recounted by John Fricker in his book Battle for Pakistan in the first chapter, “Thirty Seconds over Sargodha”). The Indian officer on that course, Gp Capt M.M. Sinha happened to overhear this statement.
“It was not so”, he said. “You got only two.” “Nonsense”, retorted the Pakistani officer, “how do you know what exactly happened?”
“I should know” said Sinha, “I took part in that raid. We lost only two, Fg Offr Brar and San Ldr Bhagwat. San Ldr Kackar had to eject because his engine developed some trouble and it flamed out due to fuel starvation. He became a POW”.
There was an awkward silence. “The other members of that raid, or rather two raids, are all still alive. I can give you their addresses if you want to check. One of them, Wg Cdr A.T.RH Zachariah, the former CO of 7 San has an English wife and is right here in England.”
Every situation changes for better or for worse. Hardly anything remains static. But improvement needs effort. The IAF set to doing just that. In 1959 the IAF had only fifteen squadrons. Its approved strength at the end of 1962 was forty-five squadrons. But such expansion takes time. After the 1965 IndoPak conflict, supplies agreed to earlier by USA and UK were switched off. The need for indigenous production was thus looked into afresh. However, for building relatively sophisticated aircraft, the infrastucture in a country has to be ready. It is that technological advance and mustering of resources in a developing country which takes time. Meanwhile procurement from outside had to go on. So the effort continued: the procurement of aircraft and spares, the training of personnel to fly and maintain them, the necessary readjustment in the command and control structures, the planning and setting up of new bases or expanding the already existing ones and so on and so forth.
Mig 21s, the Mach 2 class fighters manufactured at HAL started coming into squadron service. HAL went full swing into the production of the twin-engined, swept-wing jet fighter, the Marut (HF 24). The Sukhoi (S22) fighter-bombers, were procured and inducted into the IAF by March 1968 to gradually replace the outdated old but faithful Mysteres.
The idea of having a centralised Air Force Academy had been thought about and talked about since partition, to be located away from international borders which meant somewhere in the south. But this had to await its turn in the list of priorities of the government. Reconnaissance for a suitable site was started as early as 1948 by the then Director of Training. The project was finally sanctioned in December 1966. Five thousand acres of land were allotted for the Academy at Dundigal, twenty miles north-west of Secunderabad and the foundation stone was laid by President Zakir Hussain on 11 October 1967. It took a little over three years to build and was inaugurated on 16 January 1971. Prior to this, after the three-years’ initial training of the officer cadets of all three services at the National Defence Academy at Kharakvasla, Pune, the Air Force men for flying duties were, and they still are, channelled into two streams. The fighter pilots had their ab initio training at Jodhpur, the intermediate training on Harvards at Ambala and advanced training on Spitfires at Hakimpet while transport pilots were trained at Begumpet, both in Hyderabad. Later the Harvard training was moved out to Bidar. But every time Indo-Pak relations became more strained than usual, and there was the likelihood of a conflict, the training schools situated near the border were disturbed. The obvious thing to do was to remove them from the vicinity of the border; what was needed there instead was an operational base. With the establishment of the Air Force Academy at Dundigal, this requirement was at last fulfilled. Also the shortening of the training period for various jobs that was Undertaken with the aim of quick expansion after 1962 was reviewed with an eye on greater thoroughness and competence. Similar changes took place in training in all branches.
Pakistan had the advantage over us in superior weaponry and readiness to use it. It had acquired Sabre jets as far back as 1956 and already made improvements in the airfields from which they flew such as Peshawar, Sargodha, Chaklala, Karachi and several others. Our jet fighters as well as the bigger, heavier, faster transport planes were acquired later and the lengthening and strengthening of runways had to be done in the western as well as eastern sectors. The PSP runway at Leh had begun to disintegrate
My Diary reads:
Tashkent, 3rd to 10th January 1966. Sequel? Formalities of the exercise correctly observed. At grass roots, Indo-Pak relations at Square one. India’s loss, Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri.
order of Hitler himself as Liddel Hart recounts in The Other Side of the Hill (the tale as collected through personal interviews with the eminent German Generals responsible for this move) the story of Dunkirk might have been a little different.
Inter-Service cooperation, how it works and how it should be cultivated from the very beginning of a service career right through its different stages, is a subject that cannot be disposed of in a few lines. And this is not the place to go into it in detail. Its importance and its possibilities, however, cannot be overemphasised.
At HAL
under the weight of the AN 125 during the 1962 operations. A permanent runway was ready by October 1963. The diversionary airfields at Nal (Bikaner) and Sirsa in Haryana were ready by 1964. Awantipur was ready in Kashmir. Uttarlai Air Force Station came up near Barmer in Rajasthan. So also did Jaisalmer. After the Rann of Kutch incident, Bhuj airfield was extended and improved. The airfields at Car Nicobar Islands in the Bay of Bengal were attended to after the 1965 conflict. In Assam, Kumbhirgram received its share of attention.
Besides having adequate airfields to fly from, to be operationally effective all aircraft need to have their spares, and arms, and ammuntions readily available as when and where they may be needed. In a country the size of India, a central location would cause many problems and delays. So depots or Air Stores Parks had to be established at or close to the bases.
The Indian and Pakistani concepts of defence and offence seem to be quite different. The Ichhogil Canal and the protective works along the border provided their Maginot Line with their armed forces strongholds well away from the border. The IAF had to penetrate deep to hit at Pak bases of power. Pakistan had acquired powerful radar signal units much earlier than India. But with careful plannnig we were able to tackle this problem with a reasonable margin of safety. The Indian air bases by contrast are along the border in the belief that offence is the best defence. But in 1965 our forward bases lacked hardcover shelters for our aircraft, which should ideally will be dispersed and well camouflaged. Also we needed an integrated system of defence including anti-aircraft guns, radar signal units, static, mobile and surface-to-air missiles. We also learnt to tuck away our personnel not on duty at a particular time during actual fighting to relatively safer quarters for their rest. These concepts held good at that time. Today Xray eyes of sophisticated gadgetry may make camouflage rather ineffective, in fact perhaps superflous. But in the developing countries, such as ours, which have conventional arms and equipment, these remain important considerations. This was seen on the evening of 3 December 1971, when the Israeli-type preemptive strike by Pakistan did no damage to our fleet of aircraft at different stations.
The three services—the Army, Navy and the Air Force-are the three dimensions of the military strength of a country. Together they are directly responsible for its territorial integrity. The rule of synergetics or synergism operates-that is the cooperative action of these agencies is greater than the sum of their effects taken independently. Two plus two is not just four but four plus, but may be five or more. Inter-Service cooperation when and where it exists, makes each service stronger and the total result is better than that of each service taken singly. The obvious corollary is that inter-Service rivalry detracts greatly from the possibilities of each service. Let us concede in fairnesss that the Air Forces, by its very nature-its speed, mobility, flexibility-has the potential to contribute a great deal to the efforts of the other two services just as it is accepted that by itself it cannot win a war. War is a terrible phenomenonthe devastation and sorrow it creates should make anybody feel humble. This recognition makes our job, our duty, a pleasure. In World War II, in May 1940, during the German advance through the Ardennes, the miracle of no air attack by the Allies surprised the Germans and contributed tremendously to their success. If their lightning speed progress had not been held back at the last stage for consolidation by the
IN THE POST-1965 period, according to the need of the time, the IAF set about, and achieved to a considerable extent, its tasks of updating its fleet of aircraft, training of personnel to man them, bases to operate from, readjustment in its command structure, improvements in radar, static and mobile and also the communication system. The goal was better performance.
The goal of the country at this time was greater self-sufficiency particularly in the defence industry. One step to achieve this was to shake up the public sector units… and I was deputed to Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd (HAL) as Managing Director in 1966.
Service in a public sector industrial unit is quite different from service in the defence forces where, while there are difficulties and hazards, there are also certain Acts of the Government which protect, support or cushion such service. The challenges of industry or business are very different. The industrialist, whether in the private sector or public, has to work under several different pressures. The collective bargaining power for demands, fair and not so fair, of the trade unions is very considerable. Then one has to cope with senior bureaucracy on the one hand and political pressures on the other. I had to learn many new things in this job-labour laws and tribunal accords being some of the more important ones. The entire business of tackling problems could be done only by considering them from fresh angles.
For a fresh look at the problems of HAL, we decided that a management specialist should be invited from the Indian Institute of Management at Ahmedabad and given the freedom to investigate any and every sphere of activity, to interview whoever he wished-from the top rungs to the lowest level. This was done. The man who came, Shri Baldev Sharma, did a fairly thorough job. Day after day he went from shopfloor to shopfloor, from office to office. This is not the place for a detailed report but one observation is worth recounting since it certainly did not please the upper echelons. The investigator observed that the emotional involvement and pride in their work was generally much more obvious amongst the workers than in the officer cadre. The reason perhaps was that the workers were not transferred from factory to factory or from one division to another in the complex. They grew their roots where they were, and they certainly looked for recognition and promotion. The officers in contrast, were more mobile, ready to move from one concern to another for better prospects. Inevitably their emotional involvement with the job was
* John Fricker, Battle for Pakistan, London 1979, p. 65.
*Related by Len Deighton in Fighter, Triad/Panther Books Ltd. London 1979, p. 240.
much less.
One of the innovations we introduced was a Management Information System for keeping a vigilant eye on key areas of production, finance and administration. A three-tier management system was set up with Managing Directors for the Bangalore complex and the Mig complex which, incidentally, had its factories at Koraput (Orissa) for engines, Nasik (Maharashtra) for air frames and at Hyderabad for avionics. The Bangalore complex had five production divisions each headed by a ganeral manager, reporting to the MD of the complex. The Accessories Project was launched for setting up a factory for the manufacture of instrumentation, air-conditioning and pressurisation units, undercarriages, seats, etc., for the aircraft manufactured by the company. This later led to the establishment of the Lucknow division.
A new production planning and control system was also introduced for better scheduling, effective machine utilisation, and more ecomomic use of materials in general. This led to improved productivity and lower costs. The company started moving over from “cost-plus” quotations to “fixed price quotations” creating greater cost-consciouness. The concept of “profit centres” was also introduced.
For the first time we from the head office started negotiating with all the recognised trade unions in the company simultaneously on all matters relating to company policies affecting personnel. This led to better coordination of negotiations and also to the cutting down of negotiation time in arriving at settlements. The first agreement on revision of wage structure was reached in 1969 simultaneously with all the unions, linking dearness allowance with the CPI (Consumer price Index) which at the time was a new idea.
During 1966-68, corporate policies were framed relating to recruitment, promotion, disciplinary action, conduct and numerrous other aspects affecting management of the human resources of the company. A common company cadre from Grade III and above in order to increase promotion opportunities and mobilities of execution was introduced. A Staff College was established in 1968 in Bangalore to provide management training. We started recruiting talented Indian engineers from abroad for appointment as Design and Production engineers. A revised incentive scheme was also introduced.
Meanwhile the production line of the Mig 21s was improving day by day. We were also producing at HAL Bangalore Pushpaks, Krishaks, HT-2s, Kirans or HJT-163, Gnats, Maruts, Alouette III helicopters and at the Kanpur Division the HS-748. It seemed an irony of fate that I should be responsible for the satisfactory production of the HS-748 now. It was the same aircraft over which Mr. Krishna Menon and I had disagreed when it was in the pre-prototype stage. At that time I was virtually thrown out of the Air Force, and now at the end of my tenure as Chairman HAL I was appointed to head the service as Chief of Air Staff.
*Russel Brines, The Indo Pakistan Conflict (1965), Pall Mall Press, London 1968, p. 229.
The Preliminaries
Part III Conflict 19.71 The Third Round
THEY HAVE STRUCK”, SAID Air Marshal H.N. Chatterjee, Deputy Chief of the Air Staff, as he made his usual quiet entry into my office in Air Headquarters at 5.50 p.m. on Friday, 3 December 1971. Within moments, air raid sirens sounded the alarm and Delhi, along with much of India, was plunged into darkness on that winter evening.
So began the war that General Yahya Khan, President of Pakistan, Chief Martial Law Administrator, Supreme Commander of its Armed Forces, Minister of Defence and Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army, had been threatening against India through most of 1971. According to him, this was to be the ‘final war’ after which India would presumably never dare to face up to Pakistan again. This was the other side of Bhutto’s declaration, made in 1965, that Pakistan would fight India for a thousand years. In the event, Pakistan’s armed forces were defeated, more than 90,000 of its soldiery became prisoner of war and East Pakistan gave way to the new country of Bangladesh, ali in just fourteen days. In India, the lights came on again on 17 December 1971.
Years later, the principal events of that troubled year are as vivid as ever in my memory. I was on tour in Assam when late on the evening of 26 March 1971 news reached me at Jorhat of what was said to be a general uprising in East Pakistan. Returning to Delhi late that night in a jet aircraft, flying high over the Brahmaputra and the foothills of the Himalayas, I could see a storm raging over North Bengal and the plains that stretched south to East Pakistan. Flashes of lightning lit up the clouds below and dark thunderheads reached into the sky. They were symbolic of what was then happening in East Pakistan.
Next morning, the Prime Minister, Mrs. Indira Gandhi, met the Defence Minister, Mr. Jagjivan Ram, and the Chiefs of Staff in her office. The Prime Minister asked for, and was given, an appreciation of the current military situation in East Pakistan. Most of it was public knowledge. The Pakistan Armed Forces in that province had been built up from the time of the elections to the National Assembly in December 1969. In those elections, the first of their kind in Pakistan, Sheikh Mujibur Rehman and his Awami League Party had captured 167 of the 169 seats in East Pakistan as against Mr. Z.A. Bhutto’s Pakistan People’s Party which had won 88 of the 144 seats (6 being reserved for women) in West Pakistan. The Awami League and its Bengali supporters had anxiously awaited the day when they could take control of the country. Having been denied that, they were understandably restive and it was known that disturbances had occurred in Dhaka and elsewhere in East Pakistan. The Government’s reaction had been to bring
more troops into the area and set up strong points in major cities. By early March, it was evident that Yahya Khan’s attitude towards the Sheikh was hardening and that he had the backing of Bhutto in this. Even so, the brutal manner in which Bengali dissidence was sought to be put down, as demonstrated on 25 March, came as a surprise.
The military buildup in East Pakistan had been somewhat hampered by the banning of PIA flights over India with effect from 30 January 1971, following the hijacking of an Indian Airlines F 27 aircraft to Lahore. Amidst much rejoicing, Bhutto had supervised the destruction of the aircraft, and this had been televised for the benefit of those who could not be present on the occasion. Thereafter, PIA had been prohibited from flying over India, and communications between East and West Pakistan were either by sea or if by air via Sri Lanka. Such moves were highly visible and were regularly reported in the press. They made it relatively easy to estimate the numbers of men moving from West to East Pakistan. While the military buildup in the Eastern Wing was significant, there appeared to be no immediate danger to India from that quarter. All we could do was to wait and see how matters developed.
Public opinion in India at that time was divided as to the action to be taken. While everyone condemned the manner in which the Pakistan Government was persecuting its own nationals, there were some who thought that India should take advantage of the disturbances in East Pakistan to neutralise that area militarily. Obviously such a measure would have amounted to interference in the domestic affairs of another country, and our Government did not give any support to it. The official attitude was that the Pakistanis should themselves find a political solution to their dispute. But that gave way to concern, and eventually alarm, with the increasing persecution of Bengalis, both Hindus and Muslims, who came pouring into India, seeking sanctuary. By July, there were estimated to be 7 million of them, living on the Indian side of the international border.
From what we now know of the happenings in East Pakistan, our Prime Minister’s appeals had no effect on Yahya Khan or his Government. Instead, according to the testimony of Pakistani writers, the belief was that the back of the Bengali agitation had been broken and that peace would soon be restored in East Pakistan on terms dictated by the West. Meanwhile, the flood of refugees entering India continued unabated.
I visited Agartala, the capital of Tripura the state on the eastern border of East Pakistan, in July 1971. The flight path was almost along the international border. It was a clear day, with excellent visibility. Over a stretch of nearly 200 kilometres, there was hardly a hamlet left standing on the Pakistan side. Many had been reduced to ashes and some more were being put to the torch that day, judging from the smoke and flames that erupted from them. At Agartala, along the road from the airport to the city, there were streams of refugees.
It was essentially a problem for the civil administration. The influx of refugees, however, created many other difficulties for which assistance was necessary from the armed forces. The Army was often called out to assist the Border Security Force and the Air Force was frequently required to ferry supplies to the areas where the refugees had been housed in camps. Simultaneously, the Mukti Bahini, raised from
volunteers amongst the refugees, was becoming active under the directions of the provisional Government of Bangladesh. At the outset, the Mukti Bahini only had some nuisance value as far as the Pakistani forces in East Pakistan were concerned. Gradually, however, with its strength increased, training improved, and more experience gained, the pressure it exerted began to tell on the Pakistani forces. By the end of July 1971, the Mukti Bahini had begun to fray Pakistani nerves.
Yahya Khan, on the 31st of that month, warned India that a total war was very near. In all the pronouncements of the Pakistani Government and of Yahya Khan, India was of course accused of instigating the Mukti Bahini against what Pakistan considered to be the legitimate Government of the country. Pakistani military rulers gave no credence to the repeated statements by the Prime Minister and the Minister for External Affairs, Sardar Swaran Singh, that India had no desire to seize any part of Pakistan and that the troubles that Pakistan faced were entirely of its own making. Hostility towards India was so deep-rooted that the rulers of Pakistan failed to see any other reason for their troubles.
As the Mukti Bahini’s forays into East Pakistan became bolder, Yahya Khan’s threats against India become more frequent. Almost every time he spoke to the press or made a declaration, he threatened India with war. By October, he was accusing India of making feverish military preparations for aggression against Pakistan, and then while he talked about mediation to settle differences between the two countries, the Pakistani forces in East Pakistan became tougher in dealing with the local people. By then, they had begun to used armoured vehicles and aircraft in resisting the advance of the Mukti Bahini.
Pakistani military activity reached such a pitch by mid-November that its aircraft were frequently crossing the border into India. When diplomatic protests failed to curb such incursions, the Indian Army and the Air Force had to take a hand in putting matters right. The most spectacular such correction occurred on 22 November when IAF Gnats shot down three PAF Sabres over Boyra in Indian territory, a few kilometres north-east of Calcutta. Two of the pilots were captured alive and the third one, whose aircraft was in flames, was last seen heading into East Pakistan. This incident gave ample proof of the manner in which the Pakistani forces were violating the international border in the persecution of their own nationals. Instead of an apology, Yahya Khan declared that Pakistan would be at war with India in ten days. He kept his word.
In the space of about five minutes, between 5.40 and 5.45 p.m. on 3 December 1971, aircraft of the Pakistani Air Force mounted simultaneous attacks on seven Indian Air Force airfields (Srinagar, Awantipur, Pathankot, Uttarlai, Jodhpur, Ambala and Agra) and on a Radar Station along the western border. And, almost at the same time, Pakistani guns began shelling Indian positions in Kashmir and Punjab. The “final war” had begun.
Lessons of Yesteryears
IN OPENING UP the western front to a full-scale war, Pakistan’s military rulers were putting into practice
their firmly held belief that the defence of East Pakistan lay in the west. By December of 1971, that doctrine had to be invoked to compel India to stop the Mukti Bahini’s activities from bases along the international border between India and East Pakistan. Instead of seeking a political solution to the mounting insurgency in that eastern province, Yahya Khan sought to impose it by military means. In another context, an earlier military dictator President Ayub Khan, had also spoken of using “the language of weapons” if the “weapon of language” was unable to deal with a somewhat similar situation. Ayub Khan had not lived to see his neat turn of phrase transformed into brutal fact, but Yahya Khan had done so. Responsibility for the civil war that erupted he laid at India’s door, hence the “final war” that was to teach the Indians how to behave.
The notion of a war in the West saving the East was fostered by the experince of 1965, when Pakistan’s attempt to wrest Jammu and Kashmir by force brought forth a rather disjointed, response from India. Fighting was then confined to the western theatre, and India took no action whatsoever against East Pakistan. Pakistan’s military planners misread the signals of that war. On the flimsy evidence of that conflict, they persuaded themselves that Indian troops were no match for Pakistan’s and the Pakistan Air Force prided itself on its remarkable achievements in the air. Professional writers contributed to these conceits, and so did Pakistan’s politicians such a Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and the former Chief of the Pakistan Air Force, Air Mshl Asghar Khan, who attributed Pakistan’s failure in 1965 to the President, Ayub Khan, while acclaiming the performance of its armed forces.
The myth of military invincibility that they created for Pakistan, combined with the pathological hostility to India displayed by that country’s leaders, go a considerable way to explain the almost total disregard for reality that marked the conduct of Yahya Khan and his henchmen in 1971. It was unfortunate for them and their country that they believed their own propaganda.
By the same token, it would be fatal if we in India were to imagine that the fourteen-day war established our military superiority for all time, for we would be falling into the invincibility trap in much the same way as did our former compatriots. The fact is that, like everything else, military situations and the political environments from which they arise change constantly: that which was appropriate and effective yesterday may not be so today or tomorrow. However, in seeking answers to new problems, we have to be guided by our experience, which is to say that we must learn from our mistakes. Experience of that kind we have collected in fair measure since independence.
our set-up takes its directions regarding purpose from the civil Government, and translates them into practical operational directives for the guidance of commanders in the field. And then it becomes their immediate responsibility to see that the tasks given to them are fulfilled. Prior to independence such policy directions came from London to the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces in India. He was what in modern terminology would be called a theatre commander, with which function he combined those of the executive head of the army in India.
That colonial arrangement changed with independence. Thanks to the breadth of vision of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru and his early cabinet colleagues, on the advice of Lords Mount batten and Ismay the British pattern of higher command was adopted with some local modifications. This pattern was founded on the principle that the three Services-the Army, the Navy and the Air Force, had an equally important contribution to make to the defence of the country, and it was axiomatic that they should work together. As the principal military advisers to Government, the heads of the three Services were expected to meet regularly in the Chiefs of Staff Committee, where they could jointly consider all matters of military importance. In a departure from British practice, each of the Chiefs was also made responsible for the operational employment of his Service. In that capacity the three Chiefs were expected to formulate defence plans jointly and individually, taking into account the total military environment and the capabilities and limitations of each particular Service. To emphasise the equai status of the three Services and their interdependence, the chairmanship of the COS Committee went to the individual who had been Chief the longest, regardless of his rank or the numerical size of the Service to which he belonged. Furthermore, the close relationship that was intended between the Chiefs and their Services was reflected in the inter-Service staff of the military wing of the Cabinet Secretariat that attended to their affairs. These basic concepts of interdependence and equality are fundamental to the proper working of our system of higher command. We ignore them at our peril.
This was clearly understood and firmly set in the minds of the early Chiefs of the IAF, the first three of whom were senior RAF officers with personal knowledge of the working of the British command organisation that helped win World War II. Their Indian successors came to understand this and continued to think and work in the same way Each of these individuals, RAF and IAF, made his own unique contribution to the Air Force, while all of them brought to their jobs a sense of the vital need for the three armed forces to work together.
Air Mshl Sir Thomas Elmhirst was Chief of the Air Force when the Kashmir campaign of 1947-48 was fought. The Chiefs of Staff Committee and the supporting organisation of the Cabinet Secretariat were then in their infancy. Air Mshl Elmhirst therefore, set up, and took personal charge of an inter Service Committee to coordinate the airlift of troops and military supplies into the valley of Kashmir. The IAF’s newly-raised Dakota squadron, though still under training, was pressed into service, along with aircraft from civil airlines. Landing on a hastily improvised landing-ground at Srinagar, they made it possible for the Army to defend the valley against raiders from Pakistan. Likewise, troops were flown into Leh for the defence of Ladakh and to Poonch where the Pakistani push towards Jammu was stopped. IAF fighter
At the stage
It may be useful to recall the development of higher command structure in India. Of utmost importance to any rational activity is its purpose, the manner in which it is to be achieved and the means and methods of bringing it about, all informed by a realistic appreciation of one’s capabilities and limitations. In military terms, this means that there has to be a higher command organisation, which in
squadrons also gave close support to the Army throughout the Kashmir operations. As a result, the Pakistanis failed in their first attempt to annex the State of Jammu and Kashmir. They occupied some parts of it but most of the State remained with the Indian Union, bearing testimony to that early, close and effective collaboration between the Army and the Air Force.
And yet, when it came to fighting the Chinese in 1962, it was as if the combat and strike elements of the Air Force did not exist. On that occasion, the Air Force knew next to nothing about what the Army intended to do to meet the threat that stood out so starkly along the northern and north-eastern borders. The Chiefs of Staff Committee, as became apparent later, had ceased to function. Mr V.K. Krishna Menon then Defence Minister, had taken over, in all but name, the command of the Army and direction of the war against the Chinese. The only demands made upon the Air Force and the civil airlines were for the airlifting of men and material, which they did with commendable despatch. The possibility that the Air Force might be able to help the Army in fighting its battles was ignored.
Whether or not use of the Air Force would have turned the Chinese tide is difficult to say. The point to note is that the 1962 war saw our military competence at its lowest ebb. This was largely because an overconfident Defence Minister set out to direct a war on his own, putting hastily assembled troops in the field without the benefit of consultation with or advice and assistance from the Chiefs of the three Services. Air Mshl A.M. Engineer, the Chief of Air Staff at that time, was an extremely frustrated man in consequence.
Except for minor variations, this story was repeated in 1965, though by then Mr. Krishna Menon had been gone nearly three years from the Ministry of Defence. The Defence Minister was Mr. Y.B. Chavan, a strong and silent man who restored constitutional rule in the Armed Forces, with the Chiefs of Staff being given the consideration that their positions deserved and the assistance that their Services required.
This time there was another dominant personality to reckon with: Gen J.N. Chaudhuri, Chief of Army Staff (COAS) and, Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee. A tall, handsome cavalry man, educated in England, trained for the Army at Sandhurst, with battle experience gained in World War II, well read, much travelled, with a highly sophisticated taste in clothes, food, music and fine-living, a witty raconteur and conversationalist, ebullient and full of confidence in his own abilities, he had led the military operations that secured the State of Hyderabad for India in 1949 and Goa in December 1961. By 1962 it seemed that he had been passed over by Mr. Krishna Menon for the top job in the Army. The Chinese came to his rescue as they did to mine! Along with Krishna Menon went Gen P.N. Thapar, who had the misfortune to be Chief of the Army Staff when the Chinese came into India. Gen Chaudhuri, with his record of successes and impressive personality, was just the man for the job of reviving the Army’s morale and the country’s military fortunes. Soon after becoming COAS he also succeeded to the chairmanship of the Chiefs of Staff Committee. This came about when Air Mshl Arjan Singh succeeded Air Mshl Engineer as Chief of the Air Staff (CAS) and Vice Adm B.S. Soman succeeded Adm R.D. Katari as Naval Chief at about the same time.
Gen Chaudhuri had many more years of service than the other two chiefs and carried his 57 years
lightly (he was born in 1908). Air Mshl Arjan Singh was much younger; he was recruited before World War II began, finished his training at Cranwell in wartime and was commissioned in 1940. Gen Chaudhuri looked upon the Air Force and everyone in it, including the Air Chief, as rather young and inexperiencedfit for his avuncular interest but not to be taken too seriously. The ability of the IAF to play a useful part in the event of a war was not taken too seriously either. In any case, both the Army and the Air Force had much to do to expand their services, reorganise their formations and prepare to meet the Chinese along the northern and north-eastern borders. The Army raised a number of Mountain Divisions, equipped and trained to fight in the Himalayas, while the Air Force set out to increase its strength from 19 to 45 operational squadrons. To take care of the eastern border a new Command Headquarters was created in the east, at Shillong, and fighter bases and a radar early warning and communications network was built up in Assam, north Bengal and Bihar. Faster and more modern aircraft were also required. In 1964 the Air Force began inducting the Mig 21 into squadron service. The air bases in eastern, India and the Mig 21s were legacies of the Krishna Menon days, the former because he had shown us how vulnerable we were against the Chinese in that area, and the Migs because of his insistence that aircraft be made in India in preference to any other. As will be seen later, the Air Force had much to thank him for in 1971.
Until 1962, the only potential aggressor on the horizon, was thought to be Pakistan, and that too mainly in Jammu and Kashmir and Punjab. The Chinese factor added a new dimension to the threat. From being a friendly power in the early fifties when the prevailing slogan was Hindi Chini bhai-bhai, ten years later China’s hostility to India over the question of demarcating borders came as a reminder of the axiom that nations have no permanent friends, only permanent interests. And before long, the truth of the saying that the enemy’s enemy is your ally also became evident. Pakistan had long sworn its firm opposition to communism, including the Chinese variety, and had received generous military and economic aid from the USA in consequence. Yet, within weeks of the Sino Indian conflict, Pakistan was making friendly overtures to China, whose territorial claims to parts of Pak-occupied Kashmir, in the Hunza area, were readily conceded. In return China helped to build the Karakoram highway from Sinkiang into Pakistan. At about this time Bhutto, whose star was on the ascendance, formulated the proposition that in dealing with India, Pakistan had to have a ‘plus factor’, that is, it had to have the assistance of another power. And the Chinese seemed to fill the bill.
With the benefit of hindsight, it seems likely that the Pakistanis judged 1965 to be the right year to force a settlement of the Kashmir issue that had eluded them in 1947-48. The dismal showing of the Indian Army in January 1965 over the border dispute in the Rann of Kutch bolstered their confidence. They took this as proof of India’s apparent military weakness particularly since it came not long after Pandit Nehru’s death. But before that the widespread troubles in Kashmir following the loss of a holy relic from the Hazratbal shrine on 27 December 1963, must have led them to believe the ground was ready to receive the seeds of revolt.
Operation Gibraltar was conceived by the Pakistanis in the belief that their guerillas could instigate the Kashmiris to rise against Indian rule, and that there was no likelihood of such a spontaneous revolt
escalating into a general war. Asghar Khan’s description of the plan, and that of other writers, leaves one wondering at the naivete and ignorance of both the person who conceived it and those who approved it.
It is said that most notable discoveries are simple for they conform to the facts of life. Operation Gibraltar did not, for it failed to assess the temper of the people of Kashmir who did not rise in revolt, nor did it take account of the compulsions working on the Indian Government which could not, under any circumstances, give up Kashmir without a fight.
In the event, having failed to rouse the people of Kashmir, the Pakistanis launched an attack with regular troops, backed by tanks, in the Jammu area. India not only opposed this incursion but replied in kind by carrying the conflict into Punjab. India had always said that an attack on Kashmir would be taken as an attack on India, and lived up to that assertion. When the war ended on 22 September, honours were about even between India and Pakistan. The latter had miscalculated again. Operation Gibraltar was a failure and the situation in Jammu and Kashmir remained as before.
The Rann of Kutch dispute is important in more ways than one. When it was learnt that Pakistani troops had occupied the Indian enclave of Chhad Bett the Army and the Air Force were caught unawares. No one had given thought to the possibility of military operations across the arid sand and salt marshes of the Rann. There were no roads worth the name in that region, and no means of conveying a sizeable force across the inhospitable terrain, where even drinking water was not to be found. Conditions were less unfavourable for Pakistan, for the disputed enclave lay next to its territory, in a relatively developed area, where movement by road and resupply presented no problem. Moreover, the enclave lay at the extreme range of the strike aircraft available at Jamnagar, the nearest IAF airfield. In any case their use was inhibited by the knowledge that the PAF radar station at Badin could call up Pakistani fighters at short notice. No wonder then, that the Pakistanis had things much their own way at Chhad Bett, while Indian forces could do little to oppose them. Eventually, the British Government intervened and brought about a settlement of the dispute.
I mention the Chhad Bett incident at some length because it was later said by Gen Chaudhuri that it had given him a clear indication of Pakistan’s intentions in regard to Kashmir. If so, he did little to alert the other two Service Chiefs about the danger ahead. In the National Security Lecture that he delivered in January 1971, he stated that, “It was on the 5th May, 1965 that the larger pattern of Pakistan’s intentions to seize Kashmir… became apparent”. * He goes on to say that he discussed the pros and cons of this possibility with the Prime Minister and the Defence Minister and the necessary sanction was obtained”, though precisely for what is not clear. Some time later, the Air Chief was also informed of what was going on. This was done through informal meetings from which the Naval Chief was excluded “for the Navy’s role did not look like being a very big one”. To ensure security, the General applied the ‘need to know yardstick so thoroughly that the Chiefs of Staff Committee and the joint intelligence and planning staff were completely bypassed. No contingency plans were drafted, nor were the three Services asked to define the parts that they would have to play in the event of a war.
Gen Chaudhuri speaks with satisfaction of the freedom with which views were expressed at his
informal meetings with the Prime Minister and the Defence Minister, and the speed with which decisions were taken. It comes through clearly from his statements that he treated the whole business as his personal affair, or at any rate that of the Army’s alone, with the Air Force as a passive spectator and the Navy out of it altogether. He ignored the basic concepts of our higher Defence organisation and displayed what may be called the ‘Supremo syndrome’, a disease that grows out of the belief that one head is better than three. The origin of this disease can be traced to pre-independence days, when the Army Chief was also Commander-in-Chief of all Armed Forces in India.
When the guerillas failed to provoke an uprising in Kashmir, the regular Pak troops, supported by tanks, came into Indian territory at Chhamb and blew to bits any hopes that there might have been of localising the conflict. The Indian ground forces were outnumbered and outgunned. It needed only to overpower them and the Jammu-Srinagar highway, the lifeline of the Kashmir valley, would be open to the Pakistanis. It was only when this seemed imminent, on the afternoon of 1 September, that Gen Chandhuri burst into the office of the Defence Minister who was discussing plans for the modernisation of the Air Force with the Air Chief-and demanded air support for his beleagured forces.
A strike mission of four Vampires went out from Pathankot within the hour. It halted the Pakistani advance at Jaurian for the loss of three aircraft. While that was going on, Gen Chaudhuri argued in Delhi that the only way to save Kashmir was to attack Pakistan in Punjab. Late on the evening of 1 September, Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri accepted that advice but directed that the Army and the Air Force attack only military targets in West Pakistan. East Pakistan was declared out of bounds.
The possibility of having to fight a full-scale war had not been foreseen by anyone, far less studied in detail. The army was at a particular disadvantage, for many of its troops were dispersed in the old-time British cantonments across the length and breadth of the land. Getting a fighting force together within five days in these conditions was a remarkable achievement. On the morning of 6 September, our troops crossed the international border in Punjab, and also from the north towards Sialkot. The Air Force acted in support, bombing what were believed to be troop concentrations, or points vital to the Pakistanis. The air effort was also aimed at grounding the PAF, or at reducing its ability to fight; this involved low-level attacks over considerable distances against PAF air bases. Many fine men were lost on such sorties, most of which were mounted with insufficient information about targets and the results of which were often impossible to determine. But for the fact that they caused some trouble to the Pakistanis, their value did not, I fear, match the expenditure of life and effort that went into it.
An important area of activity in which the Air Force was found wanting was that of close support to ground forces. The procedure for demanding air support was taken from the Allied practice during World War II, when self-contained Tactical Air Forces operated closely alongside Army formations. Lacking such forces and organisation, and without a highly developed communications system, the text-book procedures were next to useless; if anything, they created chaos and confusion and left the troops on the ground bewildered and frustrated. These feelings were further embittered by the sight of PAF aircraft providing prompt and effective support to their forces. The 1965 war demonstrated, in practical terms, the
In all fairness to Gen Chaudhuri and to Air Mshl Arjan Singh and the forces that they commanded, it has to be said that while there were failures on points of detail but taking the war as a whole they succeeded in foiling Pakistan’s designs on Kashmir. They also restored in good measure to India’s armed forces the morale and fighting spirit that had been so severely battered by the Chinese in 1962. In Pakistan, the 1965 war had been described as the First Round with promise of more to come.
* See National Security Lectures, USI 1973, p. 13.
Ibid, p.44.
deficiencies in the Army-Air Force link-up at virtually every level of command and control. Much work had to be done to improve interservice cooperation in the years between 1966 and 1971.
Another serious shortcoming that came to light was the absence of operational bases in Rajasthan. Pak ground forces were able to penetrate into Indian territory as far as Gadra Road without any interference from the IAF. This was because the only air base in Rajasthan was the Flying Training School at Jodhpur. A few operational aircraft were moved to it when the fighting began, but they had neither the numbers nor the firepower to make any difference to the war on the ground (for which, incidentally, the Army was also unprepared). In the aftermath of the war, the Air Force Academy was moved out of Jodhpur, which became a major operational base and new airfields were built at Barmer and Jaisalmer.
Yet another deficiency was the total absence of a joint Naval-Air Plan for the defence of Naval bases. The Pakistan Navy was able to bombard a naval base in Saurashtra with impunity almost under the nose of the Air Force at Jamnagar. There was a lesson in this for the Navy and the Air Force. They did not permit such a thing to happen in 1971.
A sharp lesson in the protection of aircraft on the ground was taught by the PAF in an attack on an IAF base near Kharagpur. While the IAF was prohibited from taking any offensive action in East Pakistan, there was no such restriction on the PAF. In the one raid that it mounted, it destroyed several Canberra bombers and Hunter fighter aircraft on the ground. It was cold comfort to know that a couple of PAF Sabres had been shot down by our fighters. We then realised that parked as our aircraft were in World War II type open blast pens they presented easy targets for attacking fighter aircraft. The blast pens might give some protection from bomb blast and splinters but they were no protection at all against low flying aircraft that attacked with guns and rockets. This led to the development of hard shelters, protected with concrete and earth works, within which aircraft could be parked and serviced with relative immunity from air attack.
Such, then, were some of the lessons of the 1965 war and they paid dividends in 1971. The heartsearching provoked by that conflict reached into virtually every aspect of the Air Force’s life and work; the examples given here are illustrative, not exhaustive. But most of all it was shown that no matter how able or intelligent a senior commander might be-and Gen Chaudhuri was an outstanding person in all respects-he could not expect to fight a war on his own. Planning must be carried out through the Chiefs of Staff Committee, and the Navy and the Air Force must be taken into confidence. They must be given the opportunity to contribute their ideas and expertise to the development of contingency plans. Had Gen Chaudhuri done so as Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee the outcome of the war might have been very different. As it was all three Services suffered, the Army perhaps most of all. However, the war marked a turning point in military thinking and preparedness, for it brought out the shortages and deficiencies to be made good in organisation and procedures and in terms of equipment and resources.
For the Air Force, the year 1965 was invaluable in the sense that coming so soon after the Chinese incident, it enabled the IAF to further develop and refine its ideas of what it should do, and how it should do it.
Planning for Operations
TWO OUTSTANTDING POLITICAL LEADERS were at the helm of affairs in 1971 and any account of the 1971 war would be incomplete without complimenting them. First and foremost was Prime Minister Mrs. Indira Gandhi whose ability to appraise complex situations, identify major problems and define clear-cut lines of action was exceptional. The second was Mr. Jagjivan Ram, who held the office of Defence Minister with distinction from 1969 to 1973, who ably supported her. As Chief of Air Staff during this period, I had the privilege of seeing him work at close quarters: he was a model of what I imagine a Minister should be. He had complete confidence in the Chiefs of Staff and his secretaries; he was unambiguous in making known Government’s aims and intentions and, having done that, left it to the people concerned to get on with the job. He was cool, unflustered, quick-witted, cheerful, with a sense of humour and he did not talk down to people.
The Chiefs were kept in constant touch with developments in the subcontinent and what the Cabinet was thinking about them. There was full and free exchange of ideas amongst the Chiefs. The period of watching and waiting, from 26 March to 3 December was well spent during which the Chiefs of Staff Committee, the inter-Service Committees, the Service Headquarters and the Ministry of Defence worked in a smooth and coordinated manner. The armed forces were therefore, as well prepared as they could be when Pakistani aircraft attacked our airfields on the evening of 3 December 1971.
When talking about planning for war, one tends to think in terms of Staff College exercises for set situations, of the several factors that have to be taken into account and of preparation of a plan of action, a suggested plan of action, which shows every sign of being successful. The whole exercise is cut and dry. It is rather an exercise in logical thinking than in actually fighting a war. When it finally comes to fighting a war, one is faced with imponderables and unknown factors, with situations that cannot be foreseen in advance. The principal question, of course, is how the likely enemy is going to behave. Intelligence can make some intelligent guesses no doubt, so can the Commanders of the opposing forces, but it is virtually impossible to establish with any certainty precisely what the opponent is going to do, where he is going to do it, or how, or when. So, in planning for operations, one has to be prepared to meet a variety of contingencies, not the least of which is that the most unexpected thing is likely to happen.
In the 1971 war, this was demonstrated time and again. To begin with, the information coming in from newspapers, from foreign correspondents, and all other open information indicated a considerable
buildup of the Pakistani Army in East Pakistan. At the same time, it was obvious that preparations for war were going ahead in the West. Gen Yahya Khan made no secret of it. In fact, every few weeks he made some pronouncement or the other to the effect that unless India behaved itself, stayed out of the mess that he was making in East Pakistan, he would have to teach India a lesson. All the information we had indicated that he was preparing for precisely that, to punish us in the West as a counter to his own troubles in East Pakistan. However, the full scale of such preparations could only be guessed. We could not arrive at any clear estimate of what exactly he was planning to do, where he would attack and with what forces. Bengali officers and men fleeing from the Pak armed forces came into India with reports that confirmed these suspicions, but their information was disjointed and scrappy for none of them had held positions in which they could have had a hand in the framing of operational plans. Those Bengalis who did hold positions of responsibility in the Pak armed forces were presumably locked up, in West Pakistan and in the East, for not many of them come across.
We got a picture of a discontent, of the disturbances in the East, the desertions from the Pakistani forces of Bengali officers and men in the West, but it was hardly a sufficient basis on which to draw up a sound plan. Inevitably, therefore, while proceeding with whatever information that came our way from open sources and from intelligence, the plans of the Armed Forces in India had to be revised and updated.
A crucial factor that had to be considered was the timing of the operation. If Pakistan decided to attack during the monsoon season, then the areas in which it could possibly do so would be limited. The activity that we could undertake in East Pakistan would also be limited because of the fact that the rivers would be swollen, ground would be marshy, the rice fields would be full of water and it would be virtually impossible for our transports to move. In the West the effect of the monsoon is not quite so great, but it would limit the area of operation to relatively dry land, to operating on main roads and highways and perhaps in the desert. If the Pakistanis launched their attacks after the monsoon, in the autumn, then the scenario changes, and the disposition of our forces would have to match the changed scenario both in the East and the West.
The likelihood of a war in winter, when the passes are snowbound and Chinese help unlikely to be so easily forthcoming to Pakistan, was yet another possibility that had to be considered. The Chinese could come in at any time before the passes along the northern border became snowbound; but they could not come in winter. So again the disposition of our forces to meet the threat from Pakistan and the possible threat from China, had to be considered and provided for.
The variety of circumstances and of situations in which the armed forces could be called upon to fight, led to the preparation of a number of plans. The preparation of such contingency plans had necessarily to be done at a fairly high level, at the level of Service Headquarters. This was done, of course, in consultation with the people on the ground; the field commanders, the General Officers Commandingin-Chief of Western Command, Eastern Command and Southern Command, who in turn consulted their Corps or Divisional Commanders. So, from the time that the threat of a war with Pakistan became more than simply a threat, when it became a probability rather than a possibility, this process of planning,
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plans and revising them continued ceaselessly.
One feature of this, as far as the Army’s planning was concerned, was that it seemed to have been controlled largely from Army Headquarters. In the case of the Air Force, the problem was that of organising a smaller body of men. The advantage was that the aircraft operate from fixed bases which can achieve operational readiness quickly, and targets were relatively easy to define in so far as a counter air attack was concerned particularly on any transportation systems. However, what the Army would need, or the Navy, as air support would depend on their plans and would be known only later. Thus, the basic disposition and deployment of the Air Force could be decided upon and implemented without too many changes being necessary.
In providing support to the Navy, the Air Force faced yet another kind of situation… the Navy is not known as the silent service for nothing! They value the secrecy of their plans very greatly; they conduct their operations in an area which is vast; they are highly mobile they can change their locations by hundreds of nautical miles within 24 hours; they can attack or they can disappear beyond the horizon far more easily than can the troops on the ground. Keeping up with the Navy, therefore, presents problems of a very different kind of operation. Moreover, the commander of a fleet, or even the commander of a ship, has to take decisions as the situation develops and with the mobility that he has, with the firepower that he has, he can engage in battle without all the paraphernalia and supporting services which the Army must have before even a brigade goes into operation. The area in which the Navy can operate out at sea is limited only by its capacity to carry fuel, water for its men, and victuals as they call food. Since, the Air Force operates from fixed bases, it can cover the seas only up to a certain distance. Its limitations of fuel, the radii of action of each type of aircraft, determine the kind of support that the Air Force can provide to the Navy. Given the characteristics of the Naval force, the kind of support that the Air Force can give is limited.
The problem of planning joint operations for the three Services is, therefore, a complicated one, determined by the characteristics of each. The Army is bound down by the enormous weight of manpower, of vehicles, of supplies, of facilities that it needs on the ground. The area within which it can operate is limited. The areas and the plans of operation often change according to the season, the weather, the prevailing situation, enemy action and so on. The Navy is more versatile, and has a for greater range of action than the Army.
The Air Force has static bases where it can build up supplies, can provide for proper support for its aircraft provided it knows where the aircraft are to operate from. In wartime, however, detachments may well have to operate from forward bases also. Generally it can maintain its activities in a relatively more stable environment than either the Navy or the Army. Getting the three to work together is not so much a question of writing out detailed plans till each one knows precisely what the others will do at any given time or place but to arrive at an understanding of what each is capable of doing; to know what each may do in given contingencies, and for each to support the other to the extent possible within those general limitations. The factors that make for effective inter-Service cooperation are improvisation, quick
decisions, mobility, flexibility. The most fundamental requirement is that the Services should be willing to, should wish to, cooperate; that they both seek such cooperation and be ready to give it wherever it is necessary. It is when the understanding amongst the commanders at the higher level of command exists that this kind of coordination can be developed in the activities of the units and formations at lower levels.
In the 1971 war we were able to bring about, to some extent, an understanding of each other’s capabilities and limitations, and use the potential of each force to good purpose.
Here, I must clarify one doubt which had existed in my mind, and also in the minds of others, as to what the objectives of the 1971 war were. As defined by the Chiefs of Staff and by each respective Service Chief, it was to gain as much ground as possible in the east, to neutralise the Pakistani forces there to the extent we could, and to establish a base as it were for a possible state of Bangladesh. In the west the objective was to hold the Pakistani forces. We realised that the war could not go on indefinitely, not so much because of limitations of supply or manpower or aircraft but because the UN Security Council and other influential bodies were bound to intervene. We realised that any gains that might be made in territories in the West would most likely, as earlier, have to be handed over to Pakistan at the end of the fighting. It was clear from the beginning that our government did not intend, at any time, to destroy the power of Pakistan in the West or to take over large chunks of its territory. We did intend, however, that the people of East Pakistan should determine their own future to the extent possible. And it was for this purpose that a base had to be established for them in the East. The possibility that the Pakistani forces in East Pakistan would collapse altogether, as they did, that Dhaka would fall and that the whole country would be available to the leaders of the freedom movement in East Pakistan, was not considered something that was likely to happen. Caution dictated that the people commanding the East should work to limited objectives, but go about achieving them as rapidly as possible. It was feared that even a delay of two or three weeks would inevitably bring in the UN Security Council and compel the two sides to come to some sort of ceasefire such as in Kashmir. We did not want such a thing to happen. Whatever we did, we wanted it done quickly and on that we had all agreed.
With that as the basic understanding between the three Services, the Army, the Navy and the Air Force, they were then left to plan their activities as they thought best. The Army deployed its forces in strength in the East believing that there was a large Pakistani force in that area. After the war we realised that some of the divisions which were believed to be in Pakistan were actually nothing but number-plate formations—they had been raised perhaps to deceive us. They did manage to draw like a magnet a very considerable force of Indian troops and tanks into that area. This was done at the expense of Western Command, whereas, originally the thinking was that the Indian Army in the West would go in an offensive role. But as more divisions and more troops were moved to the East, it became inevitable for the Army command in the West to shift to a defensive posture. There were, however, some offensive operations, such as that in the Shakargarh area, but the emphasis was on defence.
The Navy which had taken no part in earlier operations was determined to make good on this occasion. If we went to war, the Navy under the leadership of Adm Nanda, the Chief of the Naval Staff,
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Adm Kohli, the Commander of the Western Fleet, and Adm Krishnan, the Commander of the Eastern Fleet, had decided to employ its forces in an offensive role. As we know, Kohli’s force went in against Karachi and Krishnan’s force, which was built up around the aircraft carrrier Vikrant, went in against East Pakistan.
The Air Force’s function in support of the Army and the Navy was defined quite clearly by the Air Force itself. Having learnt our lessons from the war of 1965, the Commanders of the Air Force sat together and decided to alter their operational priorities. The original thinking in the IAF was based on the philosophy of the RAF which believed right up to World War II and even beyond, that the bomber was the principal weapon of the Air Force, the weapon which would destroy the enemy’s ability to make war. The fighter was seen as a defensive weapon. But in 1965, we had discovered that overemphasis on the role of the bomber, and faith in its effectiveness, had led the Air Force not to give enough importance to the need for supporting the Army in the field with tactical air support. This despite the fact that during World War II, the IAF had essentialally provided tactical air support to the Army in Burma. The bomber was hardly seen in the Burmese theatre. There were a few Mitchell bombers operated by the Americans and, of course, there were other long range bombers operating out of India which went on missions against targets in Japan. The role of the Indian Air Force, the ten squadrons that we had towards the end of the war, was to support the Army and to provide what would be air defence against possible Japanese air interference.
It is ironic, therefore, that in planning our own operations independently of the Royal Air Force, we should have reverted to the traditional classic concept of the Air Force being bomber-oriented, the bomber being its principal weapon. In 1965 that is how we tried to use the Canberras, but admittedly not with any great effect. To an extent we did tie down the Pakistan Air Force to the defence of its own bases. The bombers, however, could only be used at night because they are very vulnerable in flight by day. Even at night the Canberras approached their target at low altitude and in order to drop their bombs they had to pop up to something like 6,000 ft or so before they dropped their high explosive bombs. If they dropped them any lower, there was a good chance of their being blown up by their own bombs. While they were flying, when they popped up and flew in straight and level to take aim at their targets, they were extremely vulnerable to ground attack, to anti-aircraft fire. The accuracy and effectiveness of such bombing could not be very great.
After the 1965 operations there was considerable heart searching in the Air Force. Early in 1969, at the Commanders’ Conference, we decided that the priorities for air operations had to change. Air defence of our homeland and the air bases remained priority one. The next most important job was support of the Army and the Navy, the Army taking precedence over the Navy. Bombing, specially as a weapon to neutralise or counter enemy air, came third in our list of priorities. The other operations like paratrooping, transport and so on came thereafter. This alteration in the priorities that we assigned to our commands also brought about a change in the organisation of those commands. As we saw it, the Air Force was primarily, and essentially for air defence. So each of the two major fighting commands-Western Air
Western Air Command and Eastern. Air Command- took that as their primary responsibility.
The next most important task for which they had to prepare and this happened long before 1971 or before the troubles began in East Pakistan, was that of support of the Army. And then, to the extent possible, came support to the Navy.
In my opinion the air defence and Army support tasks were of sufficient magnitude to justify their being separated from other activities such as maritime support, paratrooping, transport and bomber operations. So Central Air Command, covering most of the UP in the Gangetic area up to the border of Bengal in the East and up to the borders of Delhi, Haryana and Punjab in the West, was given the task of looking after the bomber squadrons in war, the transport squadrons and providing support to the Navy. This redefinition of duties was an important factor in contributing to the success of our 1971 operations.
Previously Eastern Air Command had been responsible for Assam or points outside Bengal and east of it. Now it was made responsible for the air defence of Calcutta area and West Bengal as well instead of Central Air Command. Eastern Air Command had the job of working with Eastern Army Command which was placed at Calcutta for support of ground troops. With the redefinition of the boundaries of the commands, the area of the responsibilities of Eastern Air Command, though the HQ of this was at Shillong, and of Eastern Army Command, based at Calcutta, was the same.
In the West, there was a similar separation of the two HQ of the Army and the Air Force that were to work with each other—the Army being at Simla in normal peace time and the Western Air Command HQ being at Delhi. In operations, it was the intention that Western Army Command HQ should move down to the plains, in Jalandhar or Amristar or wherever it was found convenient, while Western Air Command remained at Delhi.
In order to establish close cooperation and understanding between the Army and the Air Force, we had Advance HQ of Western Air Command and Eastern Air Command alongside their respective Army Commands. The Advance HQs were under the command of Air Commodores who were made responsible for providing support to the Army as required. With each Corps HQ under Western Army and the Eastern Army, there was a Tactical Air Centre commanded by a Group Captain who reported direct to the Advance HQ of Western Air Command and Eastern Air Command. And further forward in the field were what were called Forward Air Controllers-men who were made responsible for directing strikes of aircraft that were called out in support of the Army.
In this fashion, the entire organisation for the support of the Army was strengthened. In 1965, we had Advance HQ of Western Army Command, but further extension of this into the Corps and down to the level of Bridges, where Forward Air Controllers operated, was not established. Those tentacles did not operate. The result was that the Army’s demands from the forward area came directly into the Advance HQ. There the messages piled up in baskets without the Army or the Air Force officers being able to sort out the important from the unimportant ones or assign priorities for the different demands. There was considerable amount of confusion in 1965 but it was greatly reduced in 1971. There were situations in which there was confusion but, by and large, the system had been improved by 1971. Tactical Air Centres
alongside Corps and the Advance HQs alongside Army Commands could distinguish between important and less important demands that came and we could assign the air effort accordingly.
In 1965 again, there had been no specific earmaking of squadrons or units for support of a particular Corps or area. In 1971, we were conscious of that shortcoming so aircraft were assigned for particular types of tactical support to specific areas and the fact that these aircraft were available was known at the level of the Tactical Air Centres (TACs), and even down to the level of Forward Air Controllers (FACs). Of course, this entire network of air support was dependent on good communications: the base commander had to know when the need for them arose, the pilots of the aircraft had to be briefed for the kind of job to be done, and it needed to the ensured that the right weapon was carried.
The American Armed Forces have a saying that the Congress appoints the Generals, but the Signal Corps makes Commanders! Previously it had taken the Army a whole day or two days to get the demand through from the forward area to the Air Force. But for the Air Force to send out supporting aircraft in 1971 along the Western border, the average time taken for a sortie to be airborne after it was demanded by a unit, a field unit or a forward unit, in contact with the enemy, was between an hour and an hour-and-ahalf. This kind of arrangement is vital for effective air support.
Some operations can be preplanned but when the Army is in contact with the enemy there are many situations that may arise but which cannot be foreseen. Then the Air Force has to be called out at short notice. Inevitably such situations arose and the understanding between the two Services, specially at the higher level, brought about effective performance. To achieve this there has to be mutual trust, there has to be the confidence that demands are not frivolous, and that the situation does require the kind of support that the Air Force has been called upon to provide. This is the ideal. But it does not always happen like that. There were instances in 1971 where aircraft were wasted, when the air effort was squandered by commanders in the field. However, such a confusion, or mistakes, are perhaps inevitable when men are locked in battle. When emergencies arise, when the fog of war envelopes the whole area and it is not quite clear whether you are winning or losing the commander in the field tends to call on every available resource to fight his battle. And that was how we went about it in the 1971 war.
On the other hand, there are many outstanding examples of air support during the 1971 war which merit consideration because of the contribution they made to the eventual outcome of the conflict. In the East, the Army’s 4 Corps, led by Lt Gen Sagat Singh, became a highly mobile strike force, the activities of which spread from Sylhet down to Feni and beyond. This Corps was operating east of the Meghna river. They came from Agartala in Tripura, moved westward to the Meghna, crossed it to advance rapidly on Dhaka. It had already got to Narayanganj on the outskirts of Dhaka when the war ended. The mobility of 4 Corps was due very largely to its intelligent and bold use of helicopters. Besides it had its own road transport and the use of boats and barges. Improvisation was the key to the whole business. They improvised in order to move, in order to strike, in order to get as close to Dhaka as possible. Undoubtedly the manner in which the Air Force and 4 Corps worked together contributed a great deal to the collapse of the Pakistani opposition in East Pakistan.
The Air Force’s major contribution in that area was that it knocked out the Pakistan Air Force within the first two days of fighting. A number of aircraft of PAF were shot down and the others were rendered useless when we bombed the runways of the bases from which these aircraft operated-Kurmitola and Tejgaon, both near Dhaka. The initial bombing by Canberas was not too effective. The airfields were repaired and brought back into use without much delay. That is where some brilliant improvisation came into its own. The Mig 21, essentially a supersonic high performance fighter, was used. These were loaded with bombs and sent out to attack the two runways. by day. They could, if necessary, fight their way out again if they encountered any Pakistani aircraft. If they did not meet any they could go about their bombing undisturbed as most of them did. They could bomb with very considerable accuracy and both Kurmitola and Tejgaon were put out of operation within 48 hours by the Migs. It was the complete command of the air without any danger of interference by the PAF that enabled our Army to move as freely as it did, and for our Navy to operate as freely as it did in and around East Pakistan. It was one of the major factors to bring about the victory which led to the downfall of General Niazi and the liberation of Bangladesh. This is one of those unforeseen eventualities, and an unforeseen success. One could rationalise this in retrospect and say that it was our objective, but it was not so. In fact, we had not expected to take Dhaka. However, the intelligent use of the Air Force and the cooperation between the Air Force and the Navy, led to the downfall of the Pakistanis in that area.
In the West similarly, where the Army and the Air Force collaborated we brought about very effective and significant results. One of the most outstanding of them, of course, was the destruction of Pakistani tanks and troops in the desert area northwest of Jaisalmer. On the night of 4 December, the Pakistani force came in from the west against the major Indian Army supply point at Ramgarh, north of Jaisalmer. North of Ramgarh, at Kishangarh near the border, 12 Infantry Division under Maj Gen Khambata was positioned for an attack into Pakistan-its objective was the capture of Rahimyar Khan, an important point on the railway that connects Karachi with Punjab. The division had its main supply depot at Ramgarh. Had the Pakistani tanks, which came in brigade strength supported by infantry, been able to get behind Kishangarh, they could have deprived that Infantry Division of much of the supply support that was required by it to operate. As it happened, in order to get to Ramgarh the Pakistani force had to go past a small outpost of the Army called Longewala. The Pakistanis came at night. It was bright moonlight. They did not come across the desert navigating in the moonlight, but on the longer road that had been built by us towards Longewala and then turned towards Ramgarh. The Company Commander at Longewala, Maj Kuldeep Singh Chandpuri, raised the alarm and informed his Divisional Commander of Pakistani tanks that seemed to be heading for Ramgarh. First his report was ignored. It seems the Division thought that he was panicky; they expected that the enemy force would come from the northern area, from Rahimyar Khan. The Pakistani tanks went past Longewala but then turned back towards that post. The exact reasons for their turning back are not known, but it is presumed that the lead tanks and the tanks in the vanguard were going too fast for the rear, specially the infantry, to keep up with them. When they turned back to look for the rest of their party they reached Longewala by early morning, and the Company Commander
was able to confirm to his Divisional HQ that there was a considerable force of Pakistani armour in the neighbourhood. The Company Commander himself could do nothing. He was supplied with only a couple of anti-tank guns-hardly enough to hold the movement of 60 or 70 tanks and a whole brigade of infantry.
The Air Force unit stationed at Jaisalmer, which is about 10-15 minutes flying time from Longewala, was alerted. At that time six Hunter aircraft were based there. This forward airfield had been built in consequence of the 1965 operation when we had no operational airfields in Rajasthan except Jodhpur which was a flying school. This, incidentally, in 1965 took quite a beating from the Pakistanis as the operational aircraft based there were relatively ineffective. Besides Jaisalmer we had also built a new airfield at Uttarlai near Barmer to provide air defence cover and cover for the Army if it should have to operate in that area again. Jaisalmer came in particularly handy. We had moved aircraft to it from the Armament Training Wing at Jamnagar when the war broke out. Two of the six aircraft were Hunter trainers which were used in the Armament Training Wing training pilots how to operate combat aircraft, and four were single-seater fighter combat aircraft. These four aircraft went out in relays, two at a time. Through the 5th and the 6th, between them, they destroyed/damaged about 40 tanks and chased the Pakistani Infantry over the desert, shot them and immobilised transport in the area.
It was a complete rout. The Army played very little part in it except for one aircraft from the Air Observation Post (AOP) which also operated out of Jaisalmer. This aircraft dived very much lower and flew slower. It could examine every bush in the desert, every sand dune and direct the Hunters on to their targets which were the tanks and the trucks carrying the infantry. That was the first major demonstration of how air power, tactical air power, can neutralise ground forces. Of course, it was a very special situation and would not be possible everywhere. We could not do it in a jungle for the men could have been hidden or the tanks could have been camouflaged and perhaps not have been seen from the air. But in the desert, it was absolutely fatal for the Pakistanis to arrive without any air cover of their own. They were completely exposed to our four combat aircraft each of which claimed an average of about 10-12 tanks destroyed in this operation. The advance towards Ramgarh and the threat to Jaisalmer was thereby neutralised.
Another major event which played a decisive part in the outcome of the 1971 war was the support to the Army in the Chhamb area and the Poonch area in J&K. In Chhamb, the Army had taken what it believed to be an offensive posture. They were preparing for the offensive but numerous changes of plans occurred and, just three days before the Pakistanis started the war in the West, the Division which was supposed to be in an offensive posture was told to be on the defensive. It just did not have time to redeploy its forces. Its artillery was well forward west of the Munawar Tawi river. It also had a brigade west of the Munawar Tawi, and large supplies of ammunition and other stores in preparation for the offensive. In fact it was still preparing to lay minefields and preparing defensive positions west of the Tawi when the Pakistanis attacked.
For two days 196 Brigade, commanded by Brig (now Lt Gen) R.K. Jasbir Singh, held out, that is on 4th and 5th. On the 6th they could no longer resist the far superior forces of the Pakistanis and had to fall back east of the Munawar Tawi where prepared defence existed, where they were well lodged and from
where they could fight to keep the Pakistanis away. They did not allow the Pakistanis to gain a foothold east of the river. During this period of confusion, when 191 Brigade was west of the Tawi and was being attacked and mauled by the Pakistanis, the Air Force was called out in support. The support that could be given to 191 Brigade was per force limited. The situation in the brigade’s area was so confused, Indian troops and the Pakistani troops virtually locked in close quarter battle, that it was difficult to define a line beyond which the Air Force could act with impunity. There was a danger, and it indeed happened, of our own troops being attacked by our own aircraft…it was perhaps inevitable where the situation was so fluid. The Air Force, therefore, attacked behind the Pakistani lines, to prevent reinforcements from coming.
These two examples quoted should suffice for the present to explain the role of the Air Force, specially in the context of its relationship with the other two Services. The two indispensable factors, of equal importance in winning a war it is stressed again, are firstly efficiency within the limits of one’s own responsibilities and secondly cooperation among the three Services from the beginning till the end, from the training and planning stage to the implementation and execution, from the seniormost level to the juniormost.
Sometime after the crackdown on East Pakistan, on 25/26 March 1971, when the situation in the subcontinent became unstable, a delegation headed by the Vice Chief of Air Staff (VCAS) was sent abroad to look for deep penetration strike aircraft (DPSA) to replenish our ageing fleet and also for missiles for air defence. But whether it was Mirages from France or other aircraft from Russia, we could not get what we really wanted or needed which was suitable for immediate use. So we had to tighten our belts and continue with the resources we already had. We were not going to be browbeaten into accepting that which was not suitable such as the TU 22. It was better to fight with what we had, and with which we were familiar, rather than be dumped with aircraft which were totally unsuitable for our requirements. Therefore, we resisted acquiring millstones around our necks and managed nevertheless to keep the Air Force trim and well prepared.
The Air War
I MUST NOW speak of the operations undertaken by the Air Force on its own as distinct from those in support of the other Services. In 1971, through a process of discussion amongst the joint planners and the Chiefs of Staff and amongst senior Air Force Commanders, a ‘target system’ was evolved for what may be termed the air war. Since the Pakistanis came to know it only too well, I shall not be revealing any secrets by giving it here.
The basic requirement of air warfare is air superiority: in other words the freedom to operate where one pleases without undue interference by the enemy. Absolute superiority, such as that achieved in East Pakistan, is rare; in most cases the battle for it goes on along with other operations. This involves the use of fighters to guard one’s own air spaces and to attack the defences of the enemy, along with attack by
of geography clearly make it futile for Pakistan to wage war with India.
fighter-bomber and bomber aircraft on vital targets often deep inside enemy territory. This dangerous business, expensive in human lives and aircraft was undertaken in full measure in 1971, covering virtually all known PAF installations in both West and East Pakistan. The fact that there was relatively little or no interference by the PAF with our land and naval forces in most sectors was largely due to this effort.
The second most important item of the ‘target system’ expressly identified by the Air Force was energy in every shape and form. This included the fuel storage tanks in Karachi harbour, the Sui gas plant in Sind, the Attock Oil Refinery and its storage tanks and power stations such as the Mangla Hydroelectric power plant in Punjab. The precise extent of the losses sustained by Pakistan are not known but this much is certain that during the war its fuel supplies became extremely scarce and fuel had to be imported in tankers by road from Iran. The Attock Refinery declared no dividends for 1971-72 and Sui resumed supply of gas to its consumers only in March 1972.
The third and last item was transportation, both road and rail. West Pakistan’s geography limits it to having just one major seaport at Karachi through which almost all its imports and exports must pass. The hinterland of Punjab and the North West Frontier Provinces where most of Pakistan’s food is grown and people live, and where most of its military installations are located lies 400 to 700 miles to the north. About 300 to 350 miles north-east of Karachi the Indian frontier bulges into Pakistan. Opposite this bulge hilly terrain comes down close to the west bank of the Indus thus the passage between north and south Pakistan lies east of the river and is only about a hundred miles or so wide. All roads and railways must pass through this neck. The roads and railways thus lie broadside to the Indian frontier, well within reach of our forward bases. One of the facts of Pakistan’s military life is that its communications from Sukkur to Sialkot, over a distance of 500 miles or so, can be dominated by the Indian Air Force as they were in 1971. Even if Pakistan builds air bases to provide protection, it would not be feasible to keep every mile of road and railway under air surveillance all the time. It needs only a few well-placed bombs, or a salvo of rockets, to put the rail-track out of commission. In 1971 obsolete aircraft such as Vampires and Harvards were able to seriously interfere with road and rail movements at night. In India, on other hand, the roads and railways serving this frontier lie head-on to Pakistan and in order to attack vital ports, the PAF must travel deep into heavily defended territory.
Whether Pakistan can obtain supplies from the north over the newly made Silk Road from China, or by air either from China or elsewhere is a moot point. Considering that China’s main industrial centres are on the east coast of Asia, some 2,000 miles away, and the Silk Road winds its way through high mountains that are snowbound for months at a time, the possibility of substantial supplies coming by that route appear remote. As for air transportation, that may suffice for limited quantities of small arms and light equipment but no heavy armaments are likely to travel that way. For some time to come, Pakistan’s armed forces must continue to depend largely on the existing transportation system that links Karachi to the hinterland and there is little that can be done to make it less vulnerable than it is.
This then was the target system on which the air war was mounted in 1971. Changes in detail there are bound to be, but it is my opinion that its main features will remain valid for many years yet. The facts of
The Eastern Sector
was caught sending out reports about the IAF by wireless using wartime procedures and codes.
In the East, the Prime Minister of the Bangladesh Government in Exile, Mr. Tajuddin Ahmed, officially announced the formation of Mukti Bahini, the Liberation Army, in April 1971. Col M.A.G. Osmani from East Bengal Regiment (EBR) was appointed its Commander-in-Chief. His job was to coordinate the activities of the far-flung groups. May was a relatively quiet month when the forces of resistance were getting organised. By June, they started their guerrilla activities. By August, as they gathered more experience, they became more effective—the local people were used to the climate of a heavy monsoon in the eastern part of the subcontinent and the West Pakistanis were at a disadvantage. It started telling on their nerves. By October the Mukti Bahini were effective also at the ports, at the borders and, to some extent, in the interior. “The Pakistani, Soldier was beginning to lose his aggressiveness in patrolling and tenacity in fighting” admits a Pakistani chronicler. * In the nibbling forays near the border, such as at Boyra close to Jessore, at Hilli and Pachagarh in the north-western sector, at Kamalpur in the northern sector, at Chhatak, Atgram, Zakigram in the tea garden area in the north-east near Sylhet, at Akhaura and Belonia salient, the Mukti Bahini had the upper hand.
Eastern Air Command
THE CRACKDOWN ON EAST PAKISTAN happened on the night of 25/26 March 1971 by West Pakistan. The resistance of the rebels in different parts of the country was put down firmly by the end of April. In certain areas such as Chittagong on their eastern seaboard and at Benapol, Jessore, Jhenida, Kushtia, Pabna, Rajshahi in the west, there was tough fighting. At Chittagong the West Pakistanis had to use not only troops but a naval destroyer, some gunboats, tanks, a heavy mortar battery and Sabre jets to knock out the rebel strongholds at the radio transmitters, East Pakistan Rifles Headquarters and the Reserve Police Lines. It was a ruthless, exercise. Sometimes there was cruelty on both sides, but one certainly does not cancel the other. That is how East Pakistan was “neutralised”, “secured” and “pacified” for the time being.
The refugees poured into India across the border with East Pakistan in an unprecedented stream. They came in at Tripura in the east, and Cooch Behar and Siliguri areas in the north. As the pressure on our socio-economic system and stability increased, so did the tension between India and Pakistan. To take care of this huge hapless migrant population, arrangements for the basic minimum requirements of food shelter, sanitation, medical aid, the prevention of epidemics or possible civil disturbances, were made but it was a colossal administrative and financial problem for India. Under such conditions it was imperative that the Government of India remain alert and prepared with contingency plans for all eventualities. As the days went by, Yahya Khan became increasingly blatant and vociferous about his warlike intentions. Such a declaration was reported by the Financial Times of London on 19 July 1971: “I shall declare war, let the world note” and added that he would not be alone in this war either, may be he counted on the active participation of China and the USA. These threats were again expressed on 1 September 1971 during an interview by Pierre Bois, special correspondent of Le Figaro, Paris. The last threat was pronounced publicly ten days before the war, at a banquet given in Pakistan to a Chinese dignitary. India could not but heed the warning and get ready. One of the sources of information regarding the moves of Pak forces to war locations was the defecting Bengali military personnel from East and West Pakistan. Also there was radar evidence of their air activity along the borders. They meant business.
In early November an AN 12 strayed into West Pakistan air space while on a flight between Ferozepur and Bikaner because of an error in the radio compass setting. Aircraft were immediately scrambled by the PAF. Fortunately the AN 12 returned to Indian territory before the PAF could intercept.
Activities of spies increased. A cut-piece cloth seller running a small shop close to Adampur airfield
AT THE HELM of Eastern Air Command (EAC) was Air Mshl H.C. Dewan, the AOC-in-C. His Senior Air Staff Officer (SASO) was Air Vice Mshl Devashar, Air Cmde K.M, Ram was Air 1, responsible for Air Operations. Wg Cdr S.K. Mehra joined the team at the Headquarters a couple of weeks before the operations started. The upheaval in East Pakistan was a danger signal for India; the Government was alert as were the Service Headquarters and so it went down the line in each Service. Contingency plans were drawn up according to the intelligence reports received. As the situation developed, the plans had to revised. Air Headquarters continued to up-date the plans till the last, and the most up to date one was delivered by the Deputy Chief of Air Staff, Air Mshl H.N. Chatterjee, personally to AOC-in-C EAC the night before the war started. Air HQ took care to leave enough leeway for the commanders in the field to use their initiative and imagination tactically. Regular daily feedback from the stations to the Command HQ and from Command HQ to Air HQ was absolutely essential. Strategic targets had to be identified at least 24 hours in advance. The primary task was air defence and neutralising the PAF as much and as fast as possible. Equally important was giving ground support to the Army. Demands and requests from 4 Corps came to EAC Headquarters at Shillong, and later to Gauhati, and those of 2 Corps to Advance Headquarters at Calcutta. No demands were turned down throughout the operations. About 60 per cent of the air effort was allotted for close support to the Army. Cooperation with the Navy left a little more to be desired. For instance, when the UN aircraft flew into Dhaka, Sea Hawks from the Vikrant fired on the C 130 despite the advice from EAC HQ. Luckily they missed.
The radar cover at EAC was good but so was that at Dhaka. Every raid of the IAF was anticipated by
During wartime, as soon as any aircraft coming into our airspace is (or are) identified as belonging to the enemy, it is the Sector Director’s responsibility to choose the correct weapon to deal with this intrusion. The first choice is aircraft, depending on the range. If it is too close for that, then, missiles may be employed if they have been deployed appropriately for the purpose. Apart from the missile itself, the missile squadron has an Acquisition Radar and a Firing Radar or Missile Guidance Radar (MGR). The third weapon would be anti-aircraft (ackack) guns. The Sector Director has an artillery officer with him to advise him. The guns deployed are in contact with each other and with the Centre by radio telephone.
Once the Sector Director decides that the enemy aircraft should be intercepted, and he has to make up his mind quickly, a scramble has to be ordered. The aircraft that have to be scrambled are already waiting on the Operational Readiness Platform for such a call. He starts giving the pilots information regarding the enemy aircraft’s speed, direction and position, by clock-code and distance, and what type of aircraft it is— fighter or bomber. The interceptors have to be off in ninety seconds. When they are in visual contact, close enough, the Sector Director gives the pilot his position and manoeuvre and tells him to shoot. Once that is done, the interceptor and the intruder are on their own, locked in battle.
Gnats
the PAF and the latter scrambled to intercept our aircraft during the first two days of the war. Our communication system, the land line with radio telephone (RT) standby was excellent throughout-a great improvement on the 1965 effort.
EAC HQ planned the offensive, allotted tasks to its squadrons and organised the administrative and logistic support with commendable attention to detail. Some squadrons were posted to Kalaikunda to the west of Calcutta so that one or two of them could be moved up further east quickly if the requirement arose. Their logistic support was stocked up at Dumdum, the airport at Calcutta. Similarly, the famous heli-lifts for 4 Corps were organised EAC HQ-not by the Air or Army HQ nor at the instance solely of that very eminent soldier, Lt Gen Sagat Singh, GOC-in-C 4 Corps. The occupation of Dhaka as an objective was not spelt out expressly early in the plans. But Lt Gen Aurora, Lt Gen Sagat Singh, and EAC HQ as well, were fully aware of the shortage of bridging equipment in this land of numerous and mighty rivers and a corresponding need for air transportation.
Gp Capt Chandan Singh was Station Commander Jorhat, a transport base in the extreme east which was not too busy at the time. He was a very good organiser with plenty of initiative and drive. He had transformed Jorhat from a hardship station to a coveted posting by providing self financing amenities, but not at the cost of the main job-flying. A few weeks before the war started, EAC HQ sent Gp Capt Chandan Singh as a precautionary move on a temporary attachment to 4 Corps. Meanwhile, Lt Gen Sagat Singh was also thinking and planning. The cooperation between the Air Force and 4 Corps was exemplary, of which more later: it was one of the highlights of the war.
In the eastern sector, there were repeated intrusions into Indian territory by Pak Army and Air Force in the course of chasing the Mukti Bahini out of East Pakistan territory. In fact there was exchange of messages between the PAF Chief and myself to try and stop such aerial intrusions but to no avail— they continued. It was in this connection that the IAF hit the headlines in the news on 22 November 1971: In the airspace over Boyra, an Indian salient just 3 km wide tapering off into East Pakistan, four Gnats of No. 22 Squadron scrambled and took on four Sabres. Three Sabres were shot down. Only one got away.
To read of such a ‘scramble’ is exciting and dramatic and generally the layman has no idea that to organise it takes weeks and months, while the actual job is accomplished in minutes and seconds. There are Air Defence Direction Centres (ADDCs), positioned sectorwise around the target area or along a border. In this case they were to the south-west, north-west, north and extreme north east of East Pakistan. East Pakistan must have had similar setups. The task of the ADDCs is to detect, track, identify, evaluate and take tactical action against intruding aircraft. Their main equipment is radar and a completely reliable R/T communication system. The Air Force Movement Liaison Cell (AMLC) works along with the ADDCs keeping them informed of the movement of civil aircraft. No civil or transport aircraft is to be touched unless it is engaged in doing something that is positively hostile. Those who man the ADDCs are not pilots; they are officers of the administrative branch who are given special traning at Air Defence College at Lucknow. In 1971, the top man, the Sector Director, used to be a Flying Officer or a Flight Lieutenant. Now they are Squadron Leaders or Wing Commanders.
THE USUAL PATTERN followed by PAF Sabres was to come low from Tejgaon (Dhaka), rendezvous over Jessore (which is about 110 kms from Calcutta) form into a stream and then pull up in a north-westerly direction towards the border. Their objective was Boyra, on the border in Indian territory close to Jessore, a little salient jutting from India into East-Pakistan the width of this salient is only about three kmswhere Mukti Bahini forays were frequent. The Sabres would come to the border then take a 180° turn to a southerly course, strafe or do diving front gun attacks and go away low to Jessore. This pattern was repeated seven to eight times on each sortie-the route was in the shape of a heart lying sideways, the apex point being over Jessore, the base being along the border.
No. 22 Squadron, commanded by Wg Cdr (now Air Marshal) B.S. Sikand, which had been based at Kalaikunda, September onwards was operating from Dumdum airport which had been activated well enough to take military aircraft-fighters. The first few times our air defence setup was unable to intercept the intruders. On 21 November a battle was raging on the ground with tanks and artillery. The Indian Army managed to destroy 13 Pak tanks. On 22 November the first Pak sortie over this area from Tejgaon was picked up near Jessore by our radar at 0811 hrs. Four Gnats of No. 22 Squadron scrambled and intercepted them. The Sabres beat a hasty retreat and they were not pursued. The Indian intention was a warning-a “flagshowing”. The second sortie came at 1028 hrs and the same action was repeated. The third sortie was picked up by the radar over Jessore at 1448 hrs. They pulled up in a northwesterly direction to 2,000 ft (600 m), they were on the radar for only one or two minutes, and then they would dive and attack. The scramble order was given at 1449 hrs. Four Gnats were airborne at 1451 hrs from
Location 2942
Dumdum. Our fighters were at 4,000 ft (about 1,200 m). The Sector Director, Fg Offr K.B. Bagchi, told the formation leader, Flt Lt R Massey, “One o’clock, 10″ (nautical miles). Massey replied, “Contact, see them pulling up, but still within their territory turning south for the pass”. In the seven or eight minutes it took the Gnats to reach Boyra from Dumdum they had made six or seven passes already. The Sabres were descending from 600 m to 150 m or so for another pass-and the Gnats had to catch them in the 3 km width of the Indian bulge.
“Right wing over attack”, shouted Bagchi, “half twelve, thousand yds.” “Contact,” replied Massey. “Request type,” said Bagchi. “Sabres.” “Shoot.” It was 1459 hrs.
Flt Lt M.A. Ganapathy and Fg Offr Lazarus, were numbers 3 and 4 of the formation. At 1500 hrs Ganapathy shouted over the R/T: “Murder! Murder! Murder!” The Sabres had unwisely pulled up and loomed large in front. Ganapathy and Lazarus did not let the opportunity slip by. They fired at the Sabres and hit one each. They saw the pilots’ bale out and the wreckage fall in Bongaon.
Massey’s target flew back towards East Pakistan emitting a lot of smoke and finally fell into a pond in Chaugacha. The pilot, it turned out later, was Wg Cdr Choudhuri. The two who ejected became Prisonersof-war: Flt Lt Parvez Mehdi Qureshi and Fg Offr Khalil Ahmed. One Sabre got away. Our four Gnats returned safely to base. It was a very fair battle, four Gnats against four Sabres, not eight Gnats as a Pakistani General reports, nor ten as given in the History of the PAF.*
To guard against possible retaliation, the Sector Director had Combat Air Patrols (CAPs) flying over Dumdum, Panagarh and Kalaikunda till dark that day. There were Gnats based at Dumdum and Migs at Panagarh and Kalaikunda. Migs from No. 30 Squadron had come from Tezpur in Assam to Kalaikunda and four Migs were positioned at Panagarh for CAPs and ORP (Opera Readiness Platform) duties. I visited Barrackpore and Dumdum shortly after the incident and congratulated the boys on the good beginning. It seemed as though we had won the air war even before the actual war had started! The Gnats were sent back to Kalaikunda for a while because of the shortage of hardcover pens at Dumdum, but in due course they were brought back again. The loss of three Sabres did not deter the PAF: the next morning, another four Sabres came and strafed the border for 12 minutes. Two Migs from Panagarh and two from Kalaikunda were scrambled. It took them 13 minutes to reach. The Sabres got away.
After this incident, the President of Pakistan declared National Emergency on 23 November 1971.
The preemptive strike came on the western border of India late on the afternoon of 3 December 1971. Strangely enough Yahya Khan did not inform East Pakistan about it even by any coded message. They heard the news over the radio, as reported by Mr. Siddiq Salik. * An Order of the Day was drafted, telling the troops “no holds barred”, that they were free to trike the enemy wherever they found him, without any regard for the international border. It also reminded them that they must fight to the last as there was no land, sea or air route by which they could withdraw from East Pakistan. This message-was drafted and
duplicated the next day but could not be distributed to the troops for lack of transport. All the copies later had to be burnt!
I have been asked why it took us six-and-a-half hours to hit back-the Government had already given the directive to the Chiefs of Staff in October authorising them to take punitive, measures if Pakistani forces encroached on Indian territory. They started their operations at 5.45 p.m. and our first aircraft reached Pakistan between 10.30 and 12 p.m. They were bombers from the base at Agra but we had dispersed them over one or two other airfields. Also, it is worth remembering that the bomber aircraft is not fully bombed up and ready to operate at the word “go”. Bombs are stored in an inert condition. Before they can be used, they have to be fused armed and then fitted before they can be dropped. The bomb is carried on to the transporter, taken to the aircraft and then laid one-by-one on to the aircraft. Each step takes time.
Mrs. Gandhi returned from Calcutta that evening. The Defence Minister returned from Patna. A meeting was held at about 11.30 at night. The action taken was reported to the Cabinet and it was supported. If we had waited till the final word was given and then started preparing the bombers, there would have been further delay.
In the East, we had, over the years, built up a complex of bases which virtually encircled East Pakistan. These also provide cover for our northern borders. We have a base at Kalaikunda; another one in Calcutta; we made a temporary one at Panagarh to the west of Calcutta; we have one at Bagdogra and one at Hashimara, in north Bengal; in Gauhati in Assam; the one at Imphal was not used; and there was Kumbhirgram near Silchar, the base we used in the past for supplies to the Mizo Hills and Nagaland.
The permanent bases were maintained with a higher state of alert and during October 1971 we brought in some additional aircraft to Panagarh which was only a temporary base. When fighting began on the night of 3 December we bombed Tejgaon and Chittagong. From the morning of 4 December, we went in with fighters to sweep virtually all those airfields from where the PAF could operate. We applied a vacuum cleaner; fighters from the north and fighters from the west. The main Pakistani bases were Tejgaon and Kurmitola, both near Dhaka. Later on we found eleven aircraft on the ground some of them were destroyed by air action and some possibly were destroyed by the Pakistanis themselves.
The Pakistan Air Force in East Pakistan was very small, and it ceased to exist within the first 48 hours. Thereafter, we had complete freedom of the air in the East. We used it to support the Army to hasten its march on Dhaka.
A little more about the Gnats to complete their story. The war record of No. 22 Squadron was excellent. Serviceability was 100 per cent. All its twelve aircraft flew every day during the war, a total of over 250 missions. Their task was air defence and ground attack, not bombing. After the first two days of air defence, they engaged in close support of the Army. They flew over Jessore, Ishurdi, Sathkira, Goalando-ghat, Kusthia, Hardinge Bridge and Barisal. They took part in providing air cover for the paradrop at Tangail and also for Canberra bomber day sorties. From 12 to 15 December, No. 22 Squadron flew a number of sorties against country boats and river craft because Pakistanis were running away in
ackacks.
Hunters
disguise in these boats or trying to get supplies in at Khulna and Chalna. The Mukti Bahini reported these movements and they were also visible from the air.
The other Gnat squadrons in the area were No. 15 commanded by Wg Cdr (now Air Marshal) M.M. Singh and No. 24 commanded by Wg Cdr Badhwar. The former operated further north but was later moved to Agartala.
Near the eastern border of East Pakistan and India, that is in Tripura, we had no airfield or runway that could take fighter aircraft. Moreover, Agartala was too close to the border. When Yahya Khan’s threats of war rumbled across the subcontinent, we started wondering what could be done about this particular difficulty. The only fighter aircraft which could even attempt to operate from Agartala was our Gnat. The Commanding Officers of the two squadrons nearby-15 and 24-were asked to investigate the problem. Wg Cdr M.M. Singh, CO of No. 15 Squadron, went to the area and made a survey. At Bagdogra (Siliguri) in north Bengal he had a length of the runway equal to that of Agartala marked off, about 1,500 or 1,600 yds. He personally tried out take-offs and landings within that length and then accepted the responsibility. The squadron boys had to practise this exercise for the eventuality of war. From Bagdogra they flew CAPs and gave close support to 20 Mountain Division when they were operating in that region near Hilli. Then for sometime they moved to Dumdum and along with No. 22 Squadron gave close support to the Army at Chalna, Khulna, Barisal, Jhenida, Magura, Chandpur, Dhaka, Kushtia and Hardinge Bridge. They also shot up a lot of river steamers and sank a fair number. The Navy had claimed that the port of Chalna was well-blockaded, but the recces done by these squadrons found that it was not so. Both passenger and cargo boats were plying, which they shot up. The speed of the Sea Hawks from Vikrant was about the same as that of the IAF Vampires, that is much slower than the Sabres. So they did not really have a chance to shoot up riverine traffic till the IAF took care of the Sabres within the first two days.
No. 24 Squadron, “the Hawks”, was posted at Kalaikunda. From there it was sent to Tezpur to change places with No. 30 Squadron which was sent to Kalaikunda. From Tezpur, San Ldr Jaikumar, one of the Flight Commanders, was detailed for a recce of Kumbhirgram (Silchar) to check on the necessary facilities such as communications, shelter for the aircraft, facilities for repair, pens, accommodation and the like. Their tasks mainly were air defence, escort duty and close support. In close support from Kumbhirgram some of the young pilots such as P Offr Shaheed and Fg Offr Sunil Mehta did their jobs with great courage and determination. No. 24 Squadron moved to Agartala on 12 December when it was certain that there would be no interference by the Pak Army, specially the artillery. No. 15 Squadron moved to Agartala on the 15th.
Even when the runway at Agartala was ready, so to say, it was still somewhat short, specially for landing. So a mark was made on the runway where the pilot should apply his brakes. As soon as the aircaft slowed down to a non-lethal speed, men standing on the side would catch hold of the wings to stop its momentum. There were no accidents or injuries and not a single aircraft from these three squadrons was lost due to enemy action there were no missiles in East Pakistan but plenty of Chinese multibarrel ackacks.
A PROFICIENT PILOT can become very devoted to his aircraft, he becomes one with his steed as if it were alive, and has great confidence and pride in his mount. If you talk of a Mig escort for Hunters the Hunter pilot will bristle with righteous indignation. “Hunters don’t need escorts. They fight their own battles,” as Air Cmde Chatrat, who commanded No. 17 Squadron in 1971 as a Wing Commander, said. No 14, under Wg Cdr Sunderesan was in Kalaikunda and later was moved to Jessore. Wg Cdrs Chatrat and S.K. Kaul, commanding Nos. 17 and 37 respectively, were at Hashimara, the new station that had come up in north Bengal.
The Hunters had the range to fly from Hashimara to, Dhaka, giving about ten minutes over the airfields to disengage and return. This could be done with four drop tanks, the carrying capacity of each tank being a hundred gallons.
The task for the Hunters was primarily to wipe out Pak air power in the east by attacking their airfields and by drawing them out to fight. The second important task was close support and ground attack. Hunters can carry bombs and rockets in addition to their four guns. The job of planning and coordination of the strikes in detail was the responsibility of HQ EAC. The HQs of Nos. 17 and 37 Squadrons were at Hashimara and one flight of 8 to 10 aircraft of No. 17 Squadron was to remain there. The other flight led by the senior Flight Commander, San Ldr Lele, was moved to Kumbhirgram on the morning of 4 December. Operating from there would allow them range to go deeper into East Pakistan, down south to Chittagong and anything that come within that distance. And there was plenty that was done there.
HQ EAC had detailed these two Hunter squadrons to put in the first strikes at Dhaka to catch the Sabres on the ground. Wg Cdr Chatrat led the first strike of a formation of two pairs of aircraft. However, the subsection leaders’ aircraft developed some mechanical trouble-the undercarriage would not retract -so he went back to base. The sortie was not given up. The three aircraft set out on their lo-lo mission to Kurmitola-one of the airfields at Dhaka. They went almost skimming the Ganges, called Padma in that part, flying low over the river in spite of the morning fog which made the visibility poor. Near Dhaka, in addition to the radar there were Mobile Observer Units (MOU) with their wireless sets, on the watch. The Hunters were reported in advance and were intercepted by four Sabres about 20 nautical miles north of Dhaka.
The Hunters jettisoned their drop tanks to increase speed and manoeuvrability, the only way to fight an air-to-air battle. The Sabres were on the Hunters’ port (left). The Hunters took up combat position. Each Hunter had to be on its own in this unequal battle of three against four. The combat was at tree-top level, and lasted for four or five minutes. Chatrat managed to put some gunshots into his opponent and he
ground in battle specially when the antagonists look very alike and use similar equipment.
After the 6th, the squadron’s role was attacking shipping in the rivers and at sea, coastal shipping, railway yards, cantonments and airfields such as Kurmitola, Tejgaon, Bogra which was HQ for 16 Pakistani Division, Rangpur and such other targets. In giving close support the Squadrons felt that they had to expose themselves to heavy flak more than was really necessary. They received orders from HQ EAC not to take unnecessary risks. No. 17 Squadron lost three aircraft and pilots and had two Sabres as kills in addition to all the damage they did in close support. The loss for No. 37 Squadron was a little more but the contribution of both squadrons was considerable.
Sukhois
ejected.
The other two pilots, Flt Lts Bansal and Dixon, by last ditch manoeuvres, managed to disengange and return safely to base. The Sabres besides their guns were also armed with Sidewinder missiles whereas the Hunters had only guns. The Statesman came out with the apt caption, “Hashimara Sabre Hunters, not Rattlers”.
From these two bases, Hashimara and Kumbhirgram, the flights gave very good support to Maulavi Bazar, Akhaura, Brahmanbaria, Laksham and Mainamati complex and Lalmai to the east of Dhaka. In the north they had two hard nuts to crack, one in Kamalpur on the border and one at Jamalpur, between Kamalpur and Tangail, where there were concrete fortifications and bombs had to be used.
On the first day, No. 37 Squadron lost two Hunters from Hashimara over Dhaka, one by ack-ack and one in combat with a Sabre.
Later, in the Hill area, the squadron lost Flt Lt Dixon in the course of operations. There were also losses from the flight at Kumbhirgram. These young pilots, in their enthusiasm to do a job of work well, took more risks than they should have and tempted fate. After 6 December there were no more Sabres to fight, the runways at the two airfields at Dhaka having been made unserviceable by the Migs. The TACs and the FACs worked well. Each squadron had its own FAC because of heavy commitment for close support.
Late on the afternoon of the 6th Wg Cdr Chatrat took as his No 2 Fg Offr Arora from No. 37 Squadron and went for his last close support sortie of the day towards Hilli. The Ground Liaison Officer (GLO), Maj Dhawan, gave them the bomb-line on the map. About five miles short of Hilli a huge cloud of dust was rising east of the bomb-line from a column of tanks and armoured vehicles. From the GLO’s briefing, that area was in our hands. The two Hunters were flying between 6,000 and 8,000 ft. They came low to have a look and find out whether this convoy was Indian or Pakistani. It was not easy to make it out from the air. They seemed to be Pakistani for they opened fire. So the aircraft made a circuit. Chatrat made the first pass. They were carrying four T 10 rockets each and they had four guns fitted in the aircraft. Chatrat’s first rocket missed a tank moving towards a clump of trees for shelter, but the other three rockets hit two tanks and left them burning. Arora also hit a tank. They expended all their ammunition on this convoy and came back.
Back at base, they reported their encounter to the GLO at debriefing and showed the pictures taken by the camera fixed in the aircraft. The GLO was convinced that they had hit our own convoy. Naturally both the pilots were upset. They said they had made repeated passes to make sure that it was a Pak convoy and not ours; and after firing, they had climbed up to 7,000 ft (2,000 m) and marked the area carefully on their own maps. They suffered a terrible feeling of guilt and of helpless inefficiency. The GLO consoled them by saying it couldn’t be helped now and that such things happen in war. But by midnight came a grateful, congratulatory message from HQ 33 Corps: “Thank you, well done!” The pilots heaved a tremendous sigh of relief and had a drink. It is not an easy job for pilots to give close support on the ground in battle specially when the antagonists look very alike and use similar equipment.
OF THE AIRCRAFT that took part in the operation in the eastern sector, how they honed themselves up for the “do” is worth recording. Here is the story of Wg Cdr Shridharan who commanded No. 221 Squadron of Sukhois. These aircraft came into squadron service by mid-1968. Shridharan served as a Flight Commander in the Squadron before he took over the command in July 1971. He was given the choice by the AOC-in-C Central Air Command between Gauhati in Assam and Panagarh in West Bengal, west of Calcutta, as to which station he would like as his base. He chose Panagarh in spite of it being a temporary station with spartan accommodation. His reasons? One reason was logistics. Movement, transportation of men, equipment and fuel to Gauhati was much more difficult than to Panagarh. The railway connection to Gauhati necessitated a transshipment from broad to metre-gauge and it took much more time. The advantage, in case war broke out, was that the distance to important parts of East Pakistan such as Dhaka would be less than from Gauhati, allowing the aircraft to use more fuel for sorties. He was requested to be the base commander along with his job of being the squadron commander. He thought he would not be in a position to do justice to either responsibility fully so he declined to be the base commander.
The squadron moved in October, from Bareilly. There were no hard cover pens for the aircraft. For some pens there were walls of stacked-up sand bags and for the rest camouflage nets were used. For defence there were six or eight ack-ack guns. Since the runway at the AF Station Barrackpore was not long enough, Dumdum at Calcutta was geared up to take the aircraft specially on their return from sorties.
I visited the station, met the boys and asked the CO what his plan of action would be in case of a war. He asked what the task allotted to the squadron would be. The task was given as counter air operations, photo-reconnaissance and close support. Normally these fighter-bombers operate in formations of four but Shridharan said he would operate in pairs in very quick succession, may be just at a minute’s interval. Fuel would be a restricting factor so he would not insist on a fight but do his job and come away. There was another innovation in his plans. About 10 km away from the given target, the pair would separate and attack from opposite directions. Why? To mislead the ack-ack. Would there not be a likelihood of a midair collision in this technique of attack? Shridharan said that he would see to it that there would not. He
There was only one loss. That was San Ldr Bhutani’s aircraft. Bhutani, one of the flight commanders, was shot down by ack-ack. He ejected and was taken prisoner. Flt Lt Chawla was injured by a bullet in his leg, by ground fire, while doing close support for the Army. His injury was attended to and the aircraft was repaired, made “flying-fit” and “fighting fit” in a couple of days.
On the first day’s attack, on 4 December, the Squadron claimed three Sabres on the ground at Tejgaon, five steamers and a number of field gun positions. The Mukti Bahini provided a lot of very useful intelligence.
They were busy with the task of close support in the Jessore, Jhenida area on 5, 6 and 7 December when these places fell. They were guided in their tasks by 9 TAC which was with 2 Corps.
Maj Gen D.K. Palit, in The Lightning Campaign (pp. 119-21) quotes from an account that appeared in the Sunday Times, London, by a reporter who accompanied the Indian troops on 7 December southwards towards Khulna after the fall of Jessore. He describes an instance of smooth, prompt and effective close support by the Sukhois that he witnessed. This was most likely on 8 December. A large Pak column was retreating southwards, some of the Pak troops fighting a good rearguard action which held up the progress of the Indian troops. So the Lt Col in command called for air support. “Radios crackled impressively and map references were busily exchanged and checked” must obviously have been 9 TAC at work. Fairly soon two Sukhois appeared on the scene. After circling for a few minutes at a height, they swooped down and straightened out low at tree-top level, strafed the Pak gun positions and went away. The Pak guns were silenced and the Indian columns resumed their move.
This routine went on for the next three days in the Kushtia area. The spectacular bombing of Hardinge Bridge over the Ganga, blowing up two spans, occurred on 11 December.
They flew more than 150 missions upto the 14th. After that they shifted to the Western sector to relieve No. 32 Squadron at Amritsar.
Sukhois were the best aircraft for photo-reconnaissance, specially for strategic purposes. They took pictures between noon and say 1430 to 1500 hrs, in good light, which would be processed the same evening and delivered the next morning to Command HQ, both Army and Air Force, where they would be interpreted. For instance, to gauge the damage done to the runways at the airfields at Tejgaon and Kurmitola by the Mig 21s the Sukhois took the best pictures. From these photos the effectiveness of the weapons would be evaluated. That is how the use of rockets was stopped and bombs were used on the runways. Tactical photographs, for instance those taken by the Hunters, were delivered direct to the formations, within an hour-and-a-half.
Bishnoi. They were initially at Tezpur but, as planned earlier, at the commencement of the war, they moved to Gauhati. No.4 Squadron was also at Gauhati. They were doing their normal night flying when at 2200 hrs the coded call-sign came—“All systems go”. The war was on.
The tasks for No. 28 Squadron primarily were counter air and close support. They also provided escort to other aircraft, combat air patrols and flew offensive air missions. Four Migs from No.4 Squadron at Gauhati provided top cover for the three Hunters from Hashimara led by Wg Cdr Chatrat in the first fighter strike of the war-against Kurmitola airfield at Dhaka on 4 December. The Hunters were intercepted by four Sabres one of which was shot down. The Hunters and the Migs returned safely. The second sortie that morning was launched within five minutes of the return of the first and was led by Bishnoi. The pilots returning from the first sortie warned him over the radio: “Be careful”. Bishnoi’s was the first Mig strike to be launched from Gauhati. The objective was Tejgaon: his formation used rockets to shoot the Sabres on the Operational Readiness Platforms. During this sortie two Migs acted as escorts; they were led by San Ldr Manbir Singh. While pulling up, Bishnoi saw a Sabre on the take off run and he drew San Ldr M. Singh’s attention to it. The latter fired the two K 13 missiles he was carrying and reported “Contact”. However, both missiles missed.
While heading back for base, after using his weapons, Bishnoi heard escort No.2, Flt Lt Subaiya, who was in combat with a Sabre saying that he had seen another Sabre during his second attack. Bishnoi gave a call for him to check his fuel. The response was, “900 litres”. Bishnoi asked him to disengage and go back to base. Bishnoi’s formation reduced speed and spread out to look for the second Sabre. He repeated to Subaiya, “Go up to 3 km and fly for range”. Subaiya obeyed. He reported 50 litres of fuel when he was over Shillong. He made a straight approach and landed at Gauhati with no fuel-his engine flamed out. As a matter of interest, with the afterburner a Mig 21 uses about 500 litres of fuel per minute as against the normal cruise consumption of only about 50 litres per minute at low level and about 30 litres per minute at a higher level. In fighters, the fuel allows only about three minutes for combat. The Squadron Commander was all praise for the younger pilot’s discipline in following the leaders instructions, and his cool courage. It saved the valuable life of a trained pilot and conserved an expensive aircraft to fight another day. It was indeed a good beginning on the very first sortie.
Pilots from No. 28 Squadron flew two to three missions per pilot per day right through the war, logging over 320 missions (firing weapons) during this war. These figures do not include escort flights.
Intelligence gave no information regarding the actual location of dispersal area and aircraft pens. The use of rockets, therefore, could not be optimised. The pens were discovered, with just nets on top, only after the surrender. It is rather difficult to attack some of the targets in a “single pass”. Generally, in the first pass the target is located and in the second, the pilot aligns himself to aim correctly. Unless he can do both, all the effort, the time, the fuel, the entire risk taken in flying that particular sortie are wasted.
Bishnoi came back from the first mission with two bullet holes from small calibre ack-ack guns possibly of Chinese make. On the third mission he got a Twin Otter (a STOL, that is Short Take Off Landing, aircraft) parked near the main hangar near the Flying Control. He saw it at the first pass and got
The Migs
COMMANDING NO. 28 SQUADRON from June 1970 till September 1973 flying Mig 215 was Wg Cdr B.K. Bishnoi. They were initially at Tezpur but, as planned earlier, at the commencement of the war, they
Dear Brigadier,
1. Hoping this finds you in high spirits. Thanks for the letter.
2. We here in Jamalpur are waiting for the fight to commence. It had not started yet. So let us
not talk and start it.
3. 40 sorties, I may point out, are inadequate. Please ask for many more.
4. Your remark about your messenger being given proper treatment was superfluous, shows how you under-estimate my boys. I hope he liked his tea. Give my love to the Muktis.
5. Hoping to find you with a sten in your hand next time instead of the pen you seem to have so
much mastery over I am
Your most sincerely
Comd, Jamalpur Fortress.
it with his rockets on the second.
The next day, on 5 December, the squadron flew another mission to Tejgaon and fired rockets. The Squadron Commander realised, however, that the rocket attacks on the airfield were ineffective, they did not cause enough damage to the runway. So the Base Commander Gauhati, Gp Capt M. Wollen, recommended the use of bombs. The other missions of the day were close support at Maulavi Bazar to the north-east of Dhaka, south of Sylhet.
On the morning of 6 December, between 0900 and 1000 hrs Bishnoi led the first bomb attack on Tejgaon. The formation came in low as usual, pulled up and then dived along the length of the runway, making direct hits with all four sets of bombs. It was a very good example of steep glide bombing, making craters 20 ft deep and 40 ft wide which rendered the runway unserviceable. Usually the bombing run is done at an angle to the runway to avoid ack-ack guns which are placed along the runway. Therefore, if the aircraft flies straight along the runway, the chances of being hit by the ack-ack are much higher-and Tejgaon had very heavy ack-ack protection. Evaluating the need of the hour, the Squadron Commander considered it necessary to take that risk. That afternoon he led another sortie for the same purpose. It was just as well they did because they found big reddish patches on the runway where the craters made in the morning had been filled up with quick drying cement. They attacked in the same way-more craters, each pair of holes touching the other.
Kurmitola, the other airport of Dhaka was similarly bombed and put out of action. No. 4 Squadron also took part in these bombing sorties. The craters at Kurmitola though were not filled.
On the 7th morning, Bishnoi went again to bomb Tejgaon and found that craters made the previous afternoon had once again been filled up. From the 7th onwards there was no more repair of craters: the runway was definitely out of action.
On the 8th, the Squadron bombed the Jaidebpur Ordnance Factory north of Dhaka and scored direct hits. On the 9th, Dhaka radio station was silenced though it was difficult to locate the radio units. The rest was ground support work.
From the 11th onwards Comilla, Sonamura, Maulavi Bazar were attacked with rockets and so were Lalmai and Mainamati. Rockets were good enough for bridges and gun positions but not for the hardened concrete fortifications for which ultimately bombs had to be used.
An important close support job was done in the Central Sector by the Migs from Gauhati when 95 Mountain Brigade under Brig Kler had laid a veritable seige around Jamalpur, north of Tangail. A number of air strikes (rocket attacks) in support of the Army were mounted between 5 and 10 December 1971. According to mission reports, two trains at Jamalpur railway station with army equipment and troops, a number of bunkers and gun positions were destroyed during these attacks. As a consequence of the damage inflicted and the seige there was an exchange of messages on 9 December between Col Sultan Mahmood, OC Jamalpur, and Brig Kler who had sent a message with a white flag suggesting surrender instead of loss of life in the face of certain defeat. Col Mahmood, inspite of having his back to the wall, sent a spirited reply:
The Colonel seemed to have equal mastery of the pen and the gun. It is an extremely well-written defiant letter.
The heaviest air attack against Jamalpur was on 10 December 1971. On the night of 10/11 December, when Brig Kler’s troops were lying very quiet in the dark, the Colonel sent out small parties to explore, to survey, the safety of the route from Jamalpur to Dhaka. According to instructions, the Indian troops held their fire. There was not a sound. The Pakistanis went back to the Colonel and reported. As a result, the main column ventured out. Kler’s troops held their fire till they were at almost point-blank range and then they let go. It was a massacre.
On the night of the 11th operations were reported from a “Ghost airfield”. The next day Wg Cdr Bishnoi with two other aircraft went out to investigate. They discovered a short airstrip, about 1,200 yds or so, about 20 miles from Dhaka. They bombed the runway very accurately with direct hits. Perhaps the operations were those of the Pakistani 4 Army Aviation Squadron of eight helicopters, (4 M 18 and 4 Alouttes) that Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan refers to in his book Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership.
Another mission flown by No. 28 Squadron was led by San Ldr Gill to bomb Tejgaon again and he was hit by ack-ack. He climbed up and headed for Agartala in Tripura but could not make it. He ejected four miles inside East Pakistan but was saved by the local people and delivered to the Agartala Hospital within a few hours. Thus there was loss of two aircraft due to enemy action.
The achievements of the boys of No. 28 Squadron reached a climax on 14th morning. Bishnoi had led
2 Corps in the Jessore-Khulna sector and beyond that too, right up to Dhaka. Then they were moved to the Western sector.
The Joint Venture with 4 Corps
his formation to Mainamati that morning, firing rockets into pockets of resistance for close support. They came back to Gauhati and were refuelling when they were told to go to Dhaka and fire rockets at the Circuit House where, he was told, a cabinet meeting was in progress. This information came from a radio message between East and West Pakistan intercepted fairly early in the morning. Since they had already done some rocket-firing on other targets at Dhaka they knew the location of the Circuit House. Also tourist maps of Dhaka were procured to pinpoint the target. It was a four aircraft mission, Mig 21s with rockets, led by Bishnoi. Rockets were to be used and not bombs because the aim was not destruction. It was more for psychological effect-to bring home the fact that East Pakistan had really lost the war. As Bishnoi was starting up his engine, an officer came running to him. He brought a very important message: “Not the Circuit House but Government House, the south-western part of it.” For security reasons, Bishnoi kept this information to himself for the moment. When close to Dhaka, he informed the other three aircraft of the change of target They made two passess each, that is eight attacks. The Times of India quoted a BBC report describing Governor Malik’s reaction: The inmates of Government House ran for the air raid shelters. The venerable old man said his prayers then managed to procure a bit of paper on which, with a shaking hand, he wrote out his resignation. As soon as the raid was over most of these officers moved into the Intercontinental Hotel which was Red Cross territory and therefore neutral ground.
There was a moment of dramatic significance during this mission. When the formation of Migs passed over some other aircraft an anxious voice over the R/T was heard: “Boss, 4 Phantoms low, at 4 O’clock, may be from the 7th Fleet.” “Shut up, stupid,” snapped another, “they are our Sukhois.” The importance of aircraft recognition!
On the 15th both No.4 and No. 28 Squadrons pounded Dhaka University area three times during the day-the place had become a military concentration. They flew over Dhaka at night as well, not to fire their guns or rockets but to harass and frighten the enemy.
Gen Niazi, Commander of the East Pakistani forces, surrendered on 16 December. On the 17th morning Wg Cdr Bishnoi went to Tejgaon. He visited the crew room and found that on the blackboard briefing upto 5 December had been chalked. Nothing after that. He met some of the Russian Embassy staff who said they were most impressed by the accuracy of the Indian bombing and enquired if they were guided by computers. They found it difficult to believe that it was purely by the pilot’s own judgement.
A similar reaction came from the American General in West Pakistan who grilled the Indian pilot POWs specially the senior most of them, San Ldr D.S. Jaffa, regarding the accuracy of bombing by the Sukhois. He also found it difficult to believe that it was “nothing more and nothing less than two Indian eyes in an Indian skull”.
One Mig of No.4 Squadron was lost purely by accident and not by enemy action. San Ldr Rao asked Air Traffic Control Gauhati for homing, but by mistake he overshot. There was no fuel left and he had to eject. He ejected and fell into the compound of the Gauhati Hospital. He suffered no damage but the aircraft was lost. So the enemy can claim only two Mig 21s.
The other Mig Squadron-No. 30 based west of Calcutta-did its share in air defence as well as helped
DURING THE 1971 operations against East Pakistan, the area of responsibility of 4 Corps stretched along the entire length of the eastern international border between India and East Pakistan from Dawki and Sylhet in the north to Cox’s Bazar and beyond in the south. Along a length of some 8 kilometres the Corps area was bounded in the west by the Surma and Meghna rivers.
The task given to Lt Gen Sagat Singh, GOC 4 Corps, was that of occupying as much of this area as possible. In the process, he was expected to neutralise sizeable Pakistani forces that lay along Akhaura, Brahmanbaria and Ashuganj, the last point being where the bridge crosses the Meghna river. Simultaneously, he was expected to push south towards Comilla, Laksham and Chandpur. The drive to Chandpur was important because that town, located on the east bank of Meghna controls the waterway that serves Dhaka. Its capture could, therefore, deny the use of their waterway to the Pakistanis either to reinforce their positions in East Pakistan or to evacuate forces from there.
Air Force support made available to the Corps consisted of two squadrons of Mig 21s operating from Gauhati near Shillong and Hunters from Kumbhirgram. The radii of action of aircraft limited the area of activity mainly to the area north of 23° latitude which meant that a point south of Feni was virtually out of their reach. This applied particularly to the Mig als though the Hunters could operate as far as Chittagong with long range tanks in which case their armament is limited to 30 mm front guns and perhaps two pairs of rockets under each wing. There are a number of airports in Tripura including the principal one at Agartala, but none of these could be used because of their proximity to the international border. Indeed, in the case of Agartala, aircraft landing in an easterly direction, virtually passed over the international border.
In addition to the Hunters, the Corps was also allotted the services of two Helicopter units-Nos. 105 and ilo-both, equipped with MI 4s of which they could muster eleven at any one time between the two units. Later two helicopters from Unit No. 111 also joined the fleet.
In normal times, the Corps and the Mig squadrons that were assigned to its support were located at Tezpur north of the Brahmaputra. While the Helicopter units were located at Hashimara, the Hunters which were not native to Kumbhirgram, near Silchar in Assam had to be brought from Hashimara in north Bengal. During the planning period, it was agreed that the Mig squadrons would operate from Gauhati which would enable them to operate in support of the Army west of the Meghna as well as provide support to 4 Corps. The Hunters and MI 4s were exclusively for the use of forces east of Meghna.
In the course of developing his plans for the war which appeared inevitable, General Sagat Singh decided that he would launch his offensive in East Pakistan from Tripura. Much of the countryside is
underdeveloped and there are few roads. Moreover, the border areas of the State were thickly congested with millions of refugees who moved into it from East Pakistan. While imposing an unbearable strain on the economy of the State, these refugees represented a sizeable labour force that could be used for their own relief and for the eventual launching of the 4 Corps offensive. This was done by getting them to build a network of roads from the interior of Tripura up to the border of East Pakistan, since the railway line ended at a place called Dharmanagar north of Agartala. Before the hostilities began these roads were used to convey relief materials to the refugee camps. With the commencement of hostilities, the Army was enabled to move forward at speed. When the Army crossed the border, the labour force of refugees went with it to build more roads in the areas through which 4 Corps had to operate.
There was one serious deficiency from which the Corps suffered and that was the absence of photo cover of the areas in which it had to move. It was realised of course that no such photographs could be made available before the actual hostilities began, because the Air Force could not be expected to indulge in flagrant violations of air space across the border. However, even after the commencement of hostilities, the photo cover was very slow in reaching the Corps and no photographs were taken of points beyond Comilla. It was fortunate that the maps of the East Pakistan were accurate….
Since the Corps was expected to fight mainly a moving battle, General Sagat Singh insisted that all air strikes should be controlled from the ground by Forward Air Controllers.
According to him, the only occasion when contact was not established between the ground controller and the aircraft was when Hunters from Kumbhirgram were called out for offensive action against Akhaura. Both the ground controller and the aircraft tried to contact each other but without success eventually the sortie had to be abandoned. This was the only occasion when the aircraft were unable to carry out the allotted task for lack of communications. Apart from this, all the other offensive sorties (of which there were 409) went without a hitch. The system of communications between the ground forces and the controller air bases and the aircraft worked extremely well throughout the campaign in this sector.
Launching its thrust to the north from Agartala, the first major obstacle that the Corps faced was small rivers. There were about two enemy brigade groups in this area, well dug in strong defences with overhead protection against artillery and air strikes. It was discovered later that such defences had been built by labour that had been paid in cash and kind out of the international aid given to East Pakistan after the disastrous cyclone of 1970. The weapons used by the Air Force were napalm bombs which were expected to literally smoke the defenders out of their bunkers and covered trenches. However, it was found that the napalm did not ignite on its own. Having dropped the napalm containers the Hunter pilots had to fire at them with their 30 mm cannons in order to ignite them and create a blaze. This shortcoming was later rectified but at the cost of effort which might have been used better elsewhere.
The lack of air cover in the southern region was a source of constant worry to the Corps even during the planning stage. At that time, assurances were given to the effect that aircraft operating from the Vikrant in the Bay of Bengal would provide offensive support. When hostilities began, however, no such support was available because the Naval authorities said that their pilots had not been trained for the
support was available because the Naval authorities said that their pilots had not been trained for the support of forces in the field. It was, therefore, imperative to move the Hunters further south as quickly as possible. For this purpose, the Corps had earmarked Shamshernagar airfield opposite Kailashahar as a suitable location for the Hunters. However, when the Army moved in, they discovered that the airfield was suitable only for Dakotas. The Hunters, therefore, continued to operate from Kumbhirgram. By this time, the MI 4s had been moved to Kailashahar which had been previously stocked with fuel and maintenance equipment for their operation.
The first three days of the war had been spent by the Air Force in neutralising the Pakistan Air Force. The air superiority gained was used to great advantage by Lt Gen Sagat Singh whose task it was to prevent the Pakistani forces at Maulavi Bazar from moving towards Bhairab Bazar where their Divisional Headquarters was located. He therefore, applied a feint to attract as many Pakistani troops as he could from Maulavi Bazar to Sylhet.
The airlift of a battalion of troops, by the helicopter force from Kailashahar, to a point north of Surma river virtually in full view of Sylhet to the south of the river, began late afternoon on 7 December. The noise of the helicopters and the fact that they continued to land the troops late in the night gave the impression of a large force having been brought in by air. This helilift continued during 8 and 9 December. The Pakistani brigade at Sylhet and another brigade had moved on rapidly from Maulavi Bazar. This Pakistani force spent the rest of the war ‘holding’ a heliborne battalion which never launched an attack against the town. This feint locked up the Pakistanis in an area of no great tactical importance and also cleared the way for a battalion to move towards Sylhet from Dawki in the north.
The major area of combat was further south in the region of Comilla and Lalmai. Sand hills rising to heights of 150 to 200 ft stretching from north to south had been made into strong defence positions, again with the international aid given to East Pakistan. From these, the Pakistani forces commanded the routes leading to Laksham and Chandpur. Air attacks against the defended positions produced little damage, but they had a considerable psychological effect. Brig Attri, the Pakistani Commander in this area, admitted as much after the surrender. He said that the constant presence of aircraft overhead dropping napalm and firing rockets and guns caused the Pakistani troops to ask what their own Air Force was doing to protect them. It was a battle of nerves to which the Pakistanis eventually succumbed. The Indian forces had already moved from Lalmai. They also moved from Comilla to Daudkandi north of Chandpur. On a visit by helicopter to Daudkandi, General Sagat Singh wanted to have a look at Chandpur to see how our forces were doing. Following the river, flying at a height within small arms range, he expected some sign of activity at Chandpur. Flying over that town, he discovered a large number of flags being waved. He asked his pilot to land in a field where a few men were standing. He learnt from them that Chandpur had been vacated by the Pakistanis. The General flew off immediately to the nearest Indian Army post between Laksham and by the same evening (7 December) Chandpur was in our hands. Subsequently the General was credited with having captured Chandpur single handed!
Full use was made by 4 Corps of the air support available to it despite its limitations. Any target that
for air attack for aircraft that came out for offensive support but could not find a suitable target. Thus the Lalmai hills were known as Range ‘A’ and the Divisional HQ at Bhairab Bazar was known as ‘B’. These took the brunt of the air offensive when support was not required for any specific target. In open pattern forces, the ground controller had to tell the pilots to attack Range ‘A’ or Range ‘B’ depending on the location of the aircraft and endurance. In this, manner, it was made certain that no sorties were wasted and every sortie available to the Corps was utilised in a purposeful manner.
On 11 December, the Air Force made a sizeable contribution to the success of our ground forces. As usual a number of Hunters and Migs were in the air for preplanned sorties when our forces near Comilla discovered that the Pakistanis had brought up Chafee tanks and a brigade, presumably for a counterattack. A call for offensive support on R/T network produced immediate results. Within minutes, there were Hunters and Migs overhead; their attacks on the Pakistani forces put an end to any offensive intentions of the Pakistanis.
By 12 December, the airfield at Agartala was quite secure from enemy interference. A squadron of Gnats moved into Agartala and became effective the following day. By this time having immobilised a sizeable force in the Sylhet area in the north and in the Comilla-Lalmai areas in the south, the Corps was ready to move to the Meghna. One of its objective was to capture the bridge at Ashuganj over the Meghna, but the Pakistanis blew it up before our forces could reach. Bhairab Bazar, overlooking the bridge, was a Pakistani stronghold with a considerable force of artillery located there which proved a nuisance to our forces moving forward from Brahmanbaria. It was realised that the Pakistani artillery had located an observation post on the top storey of a tall reinforced concrete grain-silo from which they were directing fire with much accuracy. Our own arms and mortars were unable to dislodge this artillery observation post. The Gnats were, therefore, called out from Agartala to take care of this problem. The top storey of the silo had a number of windows and the Gnats shot their 30 mm cannon ammunition right into them. The Pak artillery was blinded giving much respite to our troops. This happened again a couple of days later at Narayanganj, where an artillery observation post had been sited on the top floor of the four storeybuilding of Adamjee Jute Mills. The Gnats took care of that as well.
With the battle moving forward at speed, the Corps Commander decided not to stop on the east bank of the Meghna but to get across if possible to Dhaka. The bridge across the Meghna having been blown up, it was left to the helicopters to lift a sizeable force across the river. Lt Gen Sagat Singh and San Ldr Sandhu, OC Helicopter Unit, had already worked out out a plan to meet such a contingency. Even before the hostilities began, the CO of the Helicopter Unit had been asked if he could operate at night. This was an unusual request because in the normal course of training, the Air Force had not envisaged a night operation on such a large scale and certainly none in the forward areas where ground facilities are minimum. Nevertheless, after some thought, the Squadron Commander came back with an affirmative saying that he would need something like 80 hand-held battery-powered torches of the kind normally used in any household. These were obtained and fixed in the ground in the figure of an ‘H’ in an area suitable to be a Helipad. At a distance of 200 metres from the ‘H’ was the figure ‘l’ and at another 200
suitable to be a Helipad. At a distance of 200 metres from the ‘H’ was the figure ‘l and at another 200 metres the figure ‘2’ and so on till they had four specific locations at least 200 metres apart where helicopters could land. On the first trial, it was found that the beam of the torches was so bright that it blinded the helicopter pilot during the touch-down phase. The solution was simple: they merely removed the reflectors from the torches which then left only the glow of the bulb to guide the pilot. This device was used to land troops by helicopters at Sylhet at night and it was employed again for crossing the Meghna.
The helicopters had moved from Kailashahar to Agartala having helilifted the battalion to Sylhet. By then Gp Capt Chandan Singh, who had been specially sent from Jorhat to help out and had done a reconnaissance of the Sylhet landings, also found a suitable point at which to cross the Meghna to Narsinghdi. On 10 December, Lt Gen Sagat Singh was out on one of his usual ‘sight-seeing’ tours in an Alouette when his aircraft was struck by some stray Pakistani shots. Fortunately, apart from a few grazed knuckles and cheek bones, and a map folder riddled with bullet holes, they managed to get back to Agartala without any loss of life.
The operation to cross the Meghna began shortly before last light on 10 December, when about 100 troops were ferried to the landing pads Nos 1,2,3 and 4. By the time the second wave of helicopters arrived it was quite dark but the aircraft landed and the troops disembarked without any incident. Thereafter, another two companies were landed. As a precautionary move the advance party moved the helipad forward by a kilometre or two. By doing so it was hoped to prevent the Pakistani artillery, concentrated around Bhairab Bazar, from locating the precise area of the landing and fire at them. The movement of troops continued in this manner throughout the night and again the next day. The normal capacity of a MI 4 is to carry 14 troops but as fuel was consumed, so the number of troops was increased to 23 men per trip. For refuelling, the helicopters had to go back to Agartala. The pilots worked without relief but to ease their rigours the Corps had arranged for the Mukti Bahini to have hot coffee and biscuits ready for the crew of each aircraft at the landing site. At the same time heavy equipment and stores to further reinforce the manpower was to be brought down by barges and boats from Rajpura to Narsinghdi. By the morning of 11 December, the crossing to Narsinghdi had been completed with the helilift about 650 troops and some equipment.
The helicopters then moved down to Daudkandi where they were employed from 11 December, to move a battalion across the Meghna to Baidya Bazar barely seven miles from Narayanganj on the outskirts of Dhaka. At the same time, boats and barges moved additional forces into Baidya Bazar building it up to bridgade strength. Dhaka was thus beseiged from the east and south-east.
From the time that the helicopter-borne operations into Narsinghdi began on the evening of 10th until the landing of a battalion at Baidya Bazar, the crew of the helicopters had flown for 36 hours continuously doing a total of 409 sorties. The helilift of troops at these three places-Sylhet, Narsinghdi and Baidya Bazar-was accomplished without a single casualty. A total of over 5,000 men and about 51 tons of equipment was ferried. The MI 4 proved remarkably sturdy in the operations and none of them went unserviceable despite such intensive use.
demonstration of how well the two Services could work together. This was possible due, in large measure, to the fact that GOC of the Corps was himself a paratrooper, who had lived and worked in close proximity with the Air Force for many years. Moreover, he developed a close relationship with the Air Force at Tezpur when he used helicopters in the course of his normal duties. There was obviously a good deal of understanding on both sides of each others capabilities and limitations. 4 Corps never asked the Air Force to do what it could not and whatever the Air Force was called upon to do, it did most effectively. During the final push, Gnats from Agartala were called in again and used most effectively against Pakistani positions in the built-up areas of Narayanganj.
Another comment he made, and also a valid one, is that organisation of air support to the Army does not appear to receive the kind of attention that it should. He said this with particular reference to command appointments of Navigators and Signallers to Tactical Air Centres attached to each Corps. While they were worthy men in every way they just could not command the confidence of the Army officers with whom they had to deal, nor on occasion that of the Air Force units which had to be summoned up in support of the ground forces. He thought that officers selected for appointment as Commanders of Tactical Air Centres should have flying experience as pilots and not only as air crew such as Signallers and Navigators. Furthermore, they should have an understanding of the particular aircraft with which they have to deal and be able to guide both the Army commander and the Air Force commander in their support to each other.
Both these are valid comments and need to be considered. I mean no adverse criticism of the Air Force officers who worked closely with the Army during the 1971 war, but better results could have been achieved if the Air Force representation at the Tactical Air Centres had followed the lines suggested by General Sagat Singh.
Paradrop at Tangail
Just as 4 Corps was poised to enter Dhaka that honour was denied to them by the fortunes of war. Even so the contribution that the Corps made in the neutralisation and destruction of Pakistani forces in their enormous area of responsibility was most notable. And this was made possible by the close cooperation between the Air Force and the Corps which was due largely to the personal support and understanding displayed by both the senior Army Commander and Airmen working with him.
A feature of the psychological war that was waged by the Corps is noteworthy. This was the use of Caribou aircraft as bombers. At the General’s request, the Caribou aircraft which had been attached to his forces for casualty evacuation were equipped with a device that enabled bombs to be dropped from within the aircraft in the same manner as supplies are dropped. Having done their casualty evacuation, they were to load up with bombs of 500 lbs and fly over areas where the Pakistani forces were concentrated-in Maulavi Bazar, Bhairab Bazar and Lalmai and elsewhere. The Caribou flew at high altitudes, out of the range of small arms fire, and circled over particular targets and every once in a while dropped a bomb. It was not the destructive effect that was sought by such bombing but continuous harassment,the purpose was to keep the enemy forces awake and anxious. It was part of the psychological warfare that is a complement to the shooting war. The noise of MI 4 helicoptors is usually greatly magnified at night so that even one machine sounds like many. The movement of a number of helicopters in an area, therefore, can create an impression of a large force being brought in and this again creates the conditions in which the enemy is less willing to fight, as happened at Sylhet and possibly at Narsinghdi, where there was no interference from Pakistani troops even though they were concentrated in considerable number at Bhairab Bazar.
WHILE THE SPECIAL heliborne operation of ferrying troops and equipment of 4 Corps across the river Meghna was taking place in the eastern part of East Pakistan, at the same time, another important job was being done in partnership between the Air Force and the Army in the central part of the country.
Army HQ had put at the disposal of Lt Gen Jagjit Singh Aurora, the GOC-in-C Eastern Command the use of a para battalion from the Para Brigade under Brig Mathew Thomas during the contingency planning stage. The Para Brigade less this battalion was Army HQ’s reserve, kept in the area of Eastern Command. Lt Gen Aurora could split the battalion as he thought best to serve the purpose in his overall plan. By October, Lt Gen Aurora had worked out the details and the final touches were added in November. He had originally planned to put one company with 2 Corps under Lt Gen T.N. Raina at the approach from the south-western side of East Pakistan and the rest of the battalion was to reinforce the threat from the north, 101 Communication zone, in case of war. In this plan 7 and 8 Para Battalions, along with the necessary complement of field regiment, signals, medical company, provost section and the like were earmarked to assist 9 Infantry Division in capturing Jessore starting from Chaugacha.
There was plenty of bitter fighting at the border. The entire assortment of aircraft-Canberras, Gnats, Hunters, Sukhois and the Migs-from various squadrons gave Jessore and the entire sector a terrific pounding. As a result, the strongly held, well-fortified town of Jessore fell without firing a shot,the Pakistanis put up no defence, they simply withdrew. The Indian Army walked in there on 7 December 1971. The Pakistani forces there split up, part of a division going south towards Khulna and part going north towards Kushtia. The Indian 4 Division took Jhenida north of Jessore. Part of the Pak garrison
General Sagat Singh had two points about the air support. Firstly, he felt that training of army formations and units did not take into account the resources of air power that would be available during the war. This is possibly a hangover from the days when the army looked upon air support as a bonus. Nor, on the other hand; should they depend solely on air power. The training of both Army and the Air Force should be such that they can understand the capabilities and limitations of each and work out plans for the exploitation of their potential.
Another comment he made, and also a valid one, is that organisation of air support to the Army does
Location 2200
fell back 18 miles further east, our troops chasing them to Magura.
With the fall of Jessore the only obstacle in the race towards Dhaka was the Brahmaputra river other than the Pakistani forces. To overcome this an airdrop of troops east of the river was planned. 2 Para Battalion was selected for a possible airdrop at Tangail on 11 December at 1600 hrs. It may well be asked: Why Tangail? Why 11 December? Why 1600 hrs?
The Indian Army deployed to approach East Pakistan from the west, north-west and east was in Corps strength. From the north, however, that is from Kamalpur-Jamalpur and Mymensingh towards Dhaka there were only two brigades. This approach needed a little reinforcement and Tangail was almost astride this axis across the river.
Tangail had the advantage of having a friendly population; according to Mukti Bahini’s information the local population as well as the Siddiqui group of the Bahini would come to their help to act as guides and to fetch and carry. They would thus have a more than reasonable chance of landing safely and linking up with the main ground forces in the area. Also since Tangail is on the road linking Jamalpur and Mymensingh to Dhaka, the battalion would have a good chance of intercepting Pak troops falling back from the north towards Dhaka. This would serve two purposes, one being to stop reinforcements reaching Dhaka for its defence, and the other being to “neutralise” these forces, overpower them and perhaps take them prisoner.
Why on the 11 December? General Aurora’s estimate was that our forces from the north would need D plus 7 days to reach the area. And why four o’clock in the afternoon? Originally a night drop was considered but when the PAF in East Pakistan had ceased to function, it was unnecessary. Late afternoon was the best time: in winter, in the eastern part of the subcontinent 4 p.m. is about the last light. The troops would have some daylight in the new, strange place to find their feet and then the cover of darkness. Since darkness would follow soon, the enemy, if there was any around, would find it difficult to locate them immediately, specially when the local population was in sympathy with the newcomers.
The drop was a well-guarded secret and in spite of a large body of men being involved the element of surprise was not lost. Even when the drop took place, very few people could make out the actual strength of the drop. Many newspapers, and the BBC as well, reported that a whole brigade had been paradropped. Actually it was a battalion of about 784 including officers and men.
Early in November, a Joint Coordinating Headquarter was set up at the Advance HQ of Eastern Air Command at Calcutta which worked under the Directorate of Operations for Transport at Air Headquarters. Gp Capt Gurdeep Singh, an AN 12 pilot, was the commander of the Air Transport Group. With him worked Wg Cdr Ralli, Sqn Ldr Maini the navigator, and San Ldr Vania the Para-Jumping Instructor (PJI). A force of fifty transport aircraft was marshalled; twenty-two Dakotas twenty Fairchild Packets, six AN 12s and two Caribous. Brig Mathew Thomas, the Para Brigade Commander, had conducted a number of war games to work out the technique and drill of the entire operation. There were some men who had jumped from Packets but not from Dakotas. So courses were immediately arranged for them. Lt Col Kulwant Singh Pannu was the battalion commander.
The Dakota contingent was managed by Wg Cdrs Sunil Roy and J.K. Seth at Kalaikunda, the Packets by Wg Cdr S. Chand at Dumdum and the AN 12s were led by Wg Cdr J.S. Sawhney. August onwards these AN 12s had shifted from their original home at Chandigarh, which is too close to the border for comfort, to Nagpur. When the war started, they were shifted to Gorakhpur in the eastern part of Uttar Pradesh. The other AN 12 squadron was at Bareilly. Their common maintenance base was Allahabad. To begin with the planners wanted a Vic formation but the pilots preferred a “Line Astern”, one aircraft following the other. The AN 125 practised at Nagpur, the Packets at Phaphaman at Allahabad and the Dakotas at Kalaikunda.
Since it was obvious, by the end of the day on 4 December, that the PAF in the east was not on the offensive No. 25 Squadron flying AN 125 was given the task of shifting the L70 guns. deployed at Hashimara in north Bengal to Agra. They did this job on 5 December. On the 10th afternoon, they were ordered to report to Dumdum the next morning which they did along with the Packets. They were briefed there, and given maps and photographs of the target area.
By 0930 hrs on 11 December, there was an impressive line-up of Dakotas at Kalaikunda airfield. Such a line-up had also been seen earlier: on 29 April 1945, in the last year of World War II, when thirty-eight Dakotas carried the 22nd battalion of 77 Para Brigade from Kalaikunda to Akyab.*
Even though the PAF had completely ceased to operate in East Pakistan from the morning of 6 December, our contingent was still provided with fighter escort by Gnats from Dumdum. In Calcutta, the Para Camp was at the Botanical Gardens, a picnic spot by the Ganga.
The total drop, from fifty aircraft, took fifty minutes as it was supposed to. With aircraft of different speeds, the departure schedule had to be very carefully calculated as also the routes to follow and heights to fly at. Two pathfinder Packets left twenty minutes ahead. The Dropping Zone (DZ) was about five miles north-east of Tangail, astride a track from Jamalpur and Mymensingh that led to this spot across a ferry on the Lohajung river.
It was a windy day with a 12 knot breeze blowing. The Caribous were the first to reach; they dropped dummies a little distance from the actual DZ to mislead the enemy on the ground. Then the rest. The drops was spread out over a two-and-a-half square mile area. First to be dropped were the supplies, then the heavy equipment neatly packed and tied on to platforms, and lastly the men. Each soldier carried food to last him for four days; with guns and ammunition the pack that each man carried was about 55 lbs. The drop went smoothly though there were some minor mishaps. There was one case of a hang-up from a Packet, Mahadeo Gaurav, but his life was saved. One Junior Commissioned Officer (JCO) along with eighteen troops landed some eleven miles north of the DZ. They were fired upon during their descent and had to fight their way out to join the main body. It took them a day to do that. One Packet dropped a howitzer and two jeeps four miles south of the DZ. Four jeeps landed in a pond which, luckily, was not too deep. And one Packet with one officer, one JCO and thirty-eight men abroad developed engine trouble and had to go back to Dumdum. They were dropped the next day along with further dropping of supplies. One AN 12 was hit by ground fire.
In the encounters that night and the following day with the retreating Pak troops, the Pakistanis
suffered heavy losses. The paratroops linked up with the lead battalion of 95 Mountain Brigade coming from Jamalpur in the north the next day in the afternoon. The Siddiqui group also contacted them a day after the landing. Our losses in this action were very little. The rush to Dhaka was on but our victorious Army was rather short of transport. So making use of what was available, many of our men rode in cycle rickshaws-the poor man’s Rolls Royce. A slight change from air transport!
13
The Western Sector
The surrender ceremony has been described in such detail by so many that there is no need to dwell on it here. It was the theatre commander’s day. The Air Force contingent with the AOC-in-C EAC arrived in a number of helicopters. Gp Capt Chandan Singh had also come. Air Mshl Dewan, in the course of his conversation with Gen Niazi, asked the General why, when some of his troops were still ready and willing tohold out a little longer, he had surrendered. Gp Capt Chandan Singh was standing close to Niazi. Pointing to the wings on his chest Niazi said, “This (meaning the Air Force) has hastened the surrender. 1 and my people have had no rest during day or night, thanks to your Air Force. We have changed our quarters ever so often, trying to find a safe place for a little rest and sleep so that we could carry on the fight, but we have been unable to do that.”
The lightning campaign in East Pakistan was over but battles were still raging in the west.
* Siddiq Salik, Witness to Surrender, Oxford University Press, Delhi 1979, p. 118.
*See Maj Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan, Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership p.164; and History of the PAF 1947-1982, Syed Shabbir Hussain and San Ldr M. Tariq Qureshi, PAF Press Mastoor, Karachi 1982, p. 181.
*See Siddiq Salik, op. cit., pp. 129-130.
AIR MARSHAL M.M. ENGINEER MVC, DFC, the only theatre commander with two gallantry awards, was Air Officer Commanding-in-Chief (AOC-in-C) Western Air Command. AOC Advance HQ was Air Vice Mshl Lazaro and AOC Jammu and Kashmir was Air Cdre S. Banerji.
In the west the Indian and Pakistani forces were pretty evenly balanced both on the ground and in the air. Of their total strength of twenty-two squadrons of combat aircraft they retained about twenty-and-ahalf in the west and we know that they had reinforcements from other countries. Our Western Command was roughly the same. There is very good evidence to show that Jordanians supplied some aircraft including F 104 Starfighters, possibly for the defence of Karachi area. We had the satisfaction of shooting down four of them.
I met Lt Gen K.P. Candeth, PVSM (Retd), who was General Officer Commanding-in-Chief (GOC-inC) Western Command during the 1971 war with Pakistan, to seek information about the defence of the western border at that time.
My first enquiry was regarding joint planning. He said that initial consultations took place between Western Command and Western Air Command and on the basis of these the latter allotted specific Tactical Air Centres (TACs) and squadrons for support of the Army in the field. However, no detailed plans were drawn up for offensive operations to be mounted jointly by the Army and the Air Force. The only exception to this was the plan for 1 Corps which was to strike towards Shakargarh. Those squadrons which were allotted in support of this Corps were used during the operations.
To begin with, Army HQ allotted to this command certain forces to be used on the western front. Plans were prepared accordingly, the thinking then being that Western Command should defend the border by taking the offensive in the event of war. Subsequently two divisions allotted to Lt Gen Candeth, 4 and 9, and an Armoured Brigade, were ordered to move to the East. When he protested he was told that Eastern Command, under Lt Gen Jagjit Singh Aurora, had the higher priority. The long and the short of it was that the strengthening of Eastern Command cut into General Candeth’s plans which had to be recast. By the time that had been done they were further changes in what General Manekshaw, the Army Chief, desired Western Command to do. Therefore, its plans had to be revised again. In such fashion, said General Candeth, he produced some fifteen plans without any being finally accepted by his Chief. It was this continual process of change that prevented him from evolving a firm joint plan of action in
*K.C. Praval, India’s Paratroopers, Thompson Press, New Delhi 1974, p.90.
From left: Flt Lt R.Massey, Flt Lt M.A. Ganapathy and Fg Offr D.Lazarus the three Gnat pilots who took on four Sabres of the PAF over Boyra on 22 November 1971. in the Eastern Sector, and shot down one each.
consultation with Western Air Command.
Lt Gen Candeth, in his book The Western Front, Indo-Pak War 1971, says that there were warnings of a possible Pak attack from the second week of October from our own High Commission in Pakistan, from other sources of intelligence and also from the Captain of a ship which passed through Karachi. Candeth also received such a warning from his Chief on 14 October 1971 and he writes, “All I could say was that if the professed attack materialised, we were in for a bad time as our own defences were far from ready.” From then on, efforts were made in earnest for troops to be moved expeditiously to their places of deployment.
The allotment of additional forces to Eastern Command is understandable, to some extent, because the threat in the East appeared to be developing fairly rapidly. We did not know at that time that many of the formations in East Pakistan were virtually number-plate formations created possibly to bolster local morale or to deceive India or both. But we did know that troops were being moved from West to East Pakistan by air and sea. We did not have to look far for this information; these movements were public knowledge. Lt Gen Aurora and his staff could not ignore the buildup of Pakistani forces in the east and their increasing belligerence. As the threat in that area seemed to grow, so did Aurora’s demands for more troops and tanks.
Howker Hunter firing rockets.
Gnat taking off
defining the task and leaving it to the Air Force to decide the number of sorties required. This process had begun in 1969 and the procedures were developed and refined by 1970. The problem was of identifying the location of the Air Control Team (ACT) and then take directions to the target in relation to the ACT. The Air Force conducted exercises at Patiala to practice this by arranging competitions amongst squadrons to locate and attack camouflaged targets. Inititally the reaction time for calling up. immediate air support was about two hours, but by repeated army/air force exercises and improved procedures it was reduced to one-and-a-half hours.
All Army demands came by W/T in ASSU (Air Support Signal’s Unit) code. This delayed the receipt of the message by the air base designated for air support. Book cyphers are time-consuming and quite impractical. The effective means of quick communication is secure land-lines. In the 1971 war the Post and Telegraph Department did a magnificent job in that respect.
Air Vice Mshl Lazaro assigned air efforts to Tactical Air Centres with the advice to use them with care. Effort was to be conserved to deal with the Pak Armoured Division once the main attack was identified. Forward Air Controllers with brigades in forward areas proved very useful most of the time. Once in a while they did not, and that led to confusion as in Chhamb. The efficiency of the Mobile Observation Posts, however, was rather erratic; at some bases their warnings proved useful but it was not so everywhere. That was due to the fact that their training and experience was not adequate.
IE1078
Kashmir Sector
Pilots ‘scramble’ to Gnat fighters, I first flew this aircraft in 1956, in England, and it was inducted into the IAF in 1958. Extremely manoevrable, it came to be known as the Sabre Slayer.
The Army did spell out its requirement for photo-reconnaissance, but obviously this was not possible before the commencement of hostilities. As it turned out, not enough photo reconnaissance was available to the Army even after the offensive began. Photo-reconnaissance processing was done at station level, interpretation at Air HQ and then it was sent to Army HQ. The result was that the information was slow in reaching forward units. Had it not been so it may have made a more effective contribution to the war. This was a weakness that needed to be made good and in fact a new photo section was set up at Panagarh.
The process of liaison between the Army formations engaged in battle and the Air Force, that is the Tactical Air Centres and Forward Air Controllers (FACs) had to be worked out in detail. Air Vice Mshl Lazaro, AOC Advance HQ made a considerable and sustained effort in this respect. He ran training cadres for Western Command to familiarise Army officers of Brigade level and above in how to obtain air effort in support of the Army. But the Army at the time did not seem to be overly interested unlike during the time of Generals Bhagat and Satarawala who took the Air Force much more seriously. Incidentally, it was Lt Gen P.S. Bhagat who had run the joint Army-Air Force Exercise-with his sense of humour calling it “Midsummer Madness”.
The tendency was for the Army to ask for sorties by number. Lazaro emphasised the importance of
When taking stock of the actual fighting, let us start with Kashmir, the original bone of contention ever since the subcontinent was divided into India and Pakistan in 1947. In 1965 we did not post our fighters to Srinagar or Jammu; only some transport planes were there. In 1971 we positioned a couple of squadrons of Gnats there and some Vampires too. In the Partapur sector in Ladakh, there is a fair weather airfield for the benefit of the army posts in the valleys of the Shyok and the Nubra rivers. Mostly the Ladakh Scouts and the Nubra Guards operate there. Their military training, arms, ammunitions and equipment are somewhat limited, but their great asset is their ability to live and fight at sub-zero temperatures. From that region, at that time, there was only a pony track to Leh over the 18,000 ft high Khardungla Pass and that too became blocked in winter by snow. The area is, therefore, very dependent on airdrops. During the 1971 fighting, they managed to advance some twenty kilometres and occupy about eight hundred square kilo metres of Pak territory.
Kargil
In the Kargil sector, there was some very tough fighting. The vital road link between Srinagar and Leh lies through this region. As related earlier, certain Pakistani posts such as Point 13620, Black Rock and a few
others had changed hands twice during 1965. In December 1971, the Indian Army accomplished this difficult task a third time. Under the leadership of Brig M.L. Whig and Lt Col R.B. Gurung, the troops secured Point 13620 on the north bank of the Shingo river, a tributary of the Indus, attacking from the rear, cutting off their supply line and their source of water. Our ancient Vampires from Srinagar operated in close support, specially on 8 and 9 December. In this region, on either bank of the Shingo river, on the Brachil Pass, on the Bielargo Ridge, Wali, Hathi Matha and several other well-fortified posts were attacked and the well-entrenched enemy was cleared bunker by bunker.
Since orders are orders, 191 Infantry Brigade was deployed west of the river to hold the area through which two other brigades were to push forward in the event of hostilities. Maj Gen Jaswant Singh, commanding the division, took up this idea with great enthusiasm. Artillery and quantities of military stores were positioned well forward for the expected offensive.
It became apparent later that 191 Infantry Brigade did not have the wherewithal to build bunkers or other protective works west of the river, nor were such precautions deemed necessary by the higher authorities. This in spite of our having taken a beating there in 1965. If I may quote General Candeth:
Srinagar
In the valley at Srinagar, the Gnats were carefully protected in hard-cover pens. The Vampires, however, were more visible-they were difficult to tuck away. Knowing the capabilities of the Gnat, the PAF seldom sent their Sabres to Srinagar, they sent mostly their Mirages and F 104s. Interception was difficult at Srinagar because radar was not effective enough amidst the high mountains. Observer Posts had been set up every thirty to thirty-five kilometres. The men were equipped with single side-band radio sets procured just before the war, but their aircraft recognition was generally poor. Also the warning they could give allowed barely a couple of minutes before the raid. Missiles would have been effective except we did not have them there then. One of the Gnat pilots, Fg Offr Nirmaljit Singh Sekhon earned his Param Vir Chakra posthumously for his personal gallantry here.
During the whole of November, intelligence sources and forward troops reported increasing activity and the arrival of fresh troops opposite them. I was apprehensive about the security of our troops and represented that we must be allowed to prepare defences by laying mines and that in view of the Pakistani threat we would no longer be bound by the Karachi Agreement. This was accepted by the Government. Meanwhile the Chief Military Observer, Lt Gen Tassara, had been viewing our move forward with concern and had told the Corps commander that we were violating the Karachi Agreement. I then met him and told him that in view of the Pakistani build-up, I could not abide by the Karachi Agreement and in future his Observers would not be allowed to visit and inspect our positions. Gen Tassara told me that he would have to report to the UN and to our Government. I told him that he could do so and though in his official position he could not approve of our action, I think that as a soldier he understood my position.
Chhamb
As in 1965, so in 1971, Chhamb in the south-western corner of Kashmir was an area of bitter fighting. General Candeth confirmed that the original directive from the Army Chief was that 10 Division should launch an offensive from there and drive towards the important military base at Kharian about 75 kilometres to the west. But since the Government of India did not want to be branded the aggressor we would have to wait for Pakistan to strike. They would do so at a point of time and place of their choosing and in the process have a certain initial advantage. In that case, our forces might be expected to fall back to begin with. And if this was the plan then only light forces would need to be deployed west of the river Munawar Tawi, their task being to delay the enemy while slowly retreating to their main defences east of the river. While doing so they would inflict a certain amount of damage on the enemy and draw them into our own territory. The next move would be to launch an offensive which would take our forces across the ceasefire line into Pakistan in the direction of Kharian.
During October, General Manekshaw visited 10 Division and this plan was discussed in some detail. On 1 November the order came from the Army Chief: “… Neither I, nor the country can accept the loss of any territory.”
Thus, 191 Infantry Brigade was west of the Munawar Tawi, with 52 Brigade holding the main defences east of the river and 68 Brigade in reserve at Akhnoor.
191 Infantry Brigade was the advance party of the main force. Its job was simply to hold ground through which the strike was to be launched. That was the understanding when General Manekshaw accompanied by Shri D.P. Dhar visited 15 Corps on 30 November. Thereafter, at a meeting with Lt Gen Candeth, it was decided that instead of taking the offensive, 10 Division should be to on the defensive. Orders to this effect were issued by Western Command on 1 December.
The change of plan meant that the deployment of forces would have to be altered again, artillery and stores moved to the rear, minefields laid and other measures taken to establish strong defensive positions west of the Munawar Tawi. It caused a good deal of confusion which had not been sorted out when the Pakistanis struck on the night of 3 December.
Heavy vehicles were heard moving to the south of Chhamb on the night of 2 December and many tanks were seen around Tanda the next day. On the evening of 3 December when the Pakistanis launched their offensive, heralding it with a heavy artillery barrage followed by an attack by tanks and troops they caught our Army on the wrong foot. 191 Infantry Brigade had to stay where it was in an attempt to check the Pakistani advance. The Pakistanis had prepared their attack with some care; they moved their artillery up to Burejal, a village on the ceasefire line to the south-west of Chhamb, from where they continued to
pound the Brigade’s positions. Pakistani tanks came not from the south, as the show of strength the previous evening had suggested, but from the west and they came in force. The PAF also was active. 191 Brigade put up a brave fight but it was just not prepared for defence. It could not hold out for long. By the evening of 5 December, the brigade was in a state of disarray. On the 6th it withdrew east of the river to strong defensive positions that had been prepared well in advance. And there it stayed till the fighting ended on 17 December.
General Candeth confirmed that tactical air support was given to the Army in the Chhamb area whenever it was needed. There was never any shortage of aircraft, they were always readily available and they did whatever they were asked to do, According to operational reports, the Air Force mounted twenty sorties in support of the Army in Chhamb on 4 December, twenty-eight on the 5th and thirty on the 6th. The demands made upon the Air Force were well below the fortyfive sorties per day that were available in this particular sector. However, only three missions operated in direct support of 191 Brigade during the first three days. More could have been mounted as far as the Air Force was concerned but the situation on the ground was so confused that it was difficult for a pilot to tell friend from foe, so the calls that went out for direct support were not many. Most of the sorties were against targets in Pakistan their purpose being to prevent Pak reinforcements from reaching the Chhamb area. This seemed to meet the Army’s requirements, as confirmed by both Lt Gen Sartaj Singh, GOC 15 Corps and Lt Gen Candeth. In view of this, it is difficult to understand why an Indian journalist of repute should have said about this battle that “the Indians were without air support at this stage.” This is nothing short of irresponsible reporting.
According to Lt Gen Sartaj Singh, there was some confusion in 10 Division when 191 Infantry Brigade withdrew east of the Munawar Tawi. Maj Gen Jaswant Singh, the Division Commander, seemed to lose his grip on the situation and Lt Gen Sartaj Singh said that he had to virtually take over command of the battle himself. Even so, and this is confirmed by General Candeth, there was never any danger of the Pakistanis posing a major threat after the first three days, for by then they had shot their bolt, that process being hastened by the air strikes against the Pakistanis well behind the front line.
There was a close personal relationship between Air Mshl M.M. Engineer and Lt Gen Sartaj Singh who had been in the National Defence College together. The General understood well the limitation of air support in Chhamb. Why then, I asked General Candeth, when matters were being brought under control and adequate air support was being provided, did General Manekshaw demand on 6 December that every available aircraft be sent to the support of the Army in Chhamb? He replied that the panic in Army HQ was created by a Liaison Officer who had been appointed by the Army Chief in this area. This LO’s job was to report the progress of the battle direct to the Vice Chief of Army Staff, bypassing the Divisional and Corps Commanders and the GOC-in-C Western Command. Seeing that 191 Infantry Brigade could not hold out much longer on the west bank of the Munawar Tawi, the LO took it upon himself to say that the battle was being lost, one of the reasons that he presumably gave being lack of air support.
On this report reaching Army HQ, the Army Chief demanded that all available aircraft be diverted to Chhamb to the aid of the embattled ground forces. The demand was received by Air Mshl Chatterji who
said that such a diversion was not possible, and as far as he was aware the effort allotted to the area was sufficient for its needs. As far as I know, this was the only occasion when there was any serious disagreement about the Air Force’s effort in support of the Army. And even that was shortlived, for the Army Chief soon discovered that 10 Division and 15 Corps were receiving all the air support that they could use. The upshot of all this was that the LO, a Brig Mathur, was prohibited from making any further reports to Army HQ without the knowledge of the GOC-in-C.
In sum, a total of 78 sorties were flown in support of the Army in Chhamb on the first three days; had the Army wanted more, a total of around 135 sorties were available. It was only after the front had stabilised on 7 December that it became possible to increase the air effort, which went up to an average of around 40 sorties per day. The river then served as a line of demarcation between our positions and those of the Pakistanis. Everything west of it could be, and was, attacked without endangering our own forces. Ground attack aircraft scoured the area throughout the day, looking for worthwhile targets. These were difficult to spot until Lt Gen Sartaj Singh, on a helicopter flight along the front, saw Pakistani vehicles and tanks camouflaged and hidden in mango groves. Once this became known, the ground attack aircraft found an abundance of targets and hardly a mango tree escaped the strikes that followed.
One of the actions was night-bombing by Canberras of No.5 Squadron. They had an area indicated to them as being occupied by the Pakistani’s Supply Organisation-fuel, ammunitions and so on-well behind Chhamb. We managed to hit that in a night raid; there was a lot of fire and explosions. From 9 December onwards, the pressure on our troops decreased.
Some measure of the Air Force’s contribution to the battle of Chhamb can now be made. In retrospect, it is clear that the Army’s changeover from the offensive to the defensive at the last moment was the principal cause of the initial reverses suffered by it. Despite that, the situation was not allowed to get out of hand because of the prior preparations made for defence east of the Munawar Tawi. Credit for halting the Pak offensive in its tracks has also to be given to the Air Force’s strikes against the Pakistan ground forces inside their own territory. Functioning in the interdictory role and attacking the Pakistanis hiding in the mango groves, the Air Force played a vital part in the battle of Chhamb.
The Pakistan Air Force was fairly active during the first three days of the fighting, but thereafter did little to support its ground forces. It was deterred possibly by the fact that while our strike aircraft were attacking ground targets, our fighters maintained a continuous air patrol over the tactical area. Also, after suffering losses of several Sukhois and Hunters, Mig escorts were provided for strike aircraft going deeper into Pak territory. This caused the PAF to sheer off but ground fire continued to be heavy. Wg Cdr Mangat and others suffered severe damage to their aircraft in such attacks.
The views stated so far are those of the senior officers. But the man who bears the largest responsibility in this job of close support is the TAC Commander. The Commander of 4 TAC which was with 15 Corps was I.S. Chhabra, now Air Marshal. The TAC was based at Udhampur alongside HQ 15 Corps. His responsibility extended from the valley of the Shyok river in the north-east in Ladakh to Jammu in the south-west. The Corps Commander, Lt Gen Sartaj Singh visited the TAC once during the
operations.
Neither the Division nor the Corps Headquarters ever vetoed or assigned priorities to any of the demands that came into the TAC. A Major of the general staff of the Corps was meant to liaise with the TAC but he was quite unable to filter out demands and assign priorities to them. Nor was an accurate estimate of Pak strength available. The Chhamb battle was fought on the basis of spot estimates and the feel of the situation.
According to the TAC Commander, in any case the diversion of additional aircraft to Chhamb demanded by the Army Chief made no great difference to what the Air Force could do because the front was barely ten miles wide allowing not more than two aircraft to operate in the area at anyone time. Since demands were coming in with no guidance from the Division or Corps HQ to allot priorities, Chhabra set up a “search and strike” routine over the area. Allowing half-an-hour for each such mission, and mounting them from the time that the ground haze cleared (by about 0800 to 0830 hrs) to dusk, he was able to fly about 17 to 20 ground support missions each day. This he could have done with the forces at the disposal of the TAC even without reinforcement. In fact as stated earlier, the TAC somehow managed to squeeze in 28 sorties on 5 December and as many as 30 on the 6th.
The “Search and Strike” strategy could be mounted with good effect because the Munawar Tawi provided a good “bomb line.” With the withdrawal of our own troops east of that river, anything that moved or was visible on the west bank and beyond was a legitimate target for the Air Force.
The TAC Commander was critical of the manner in which the Army shifted responsibility for its loss of ground in initial stages to the Air Force. In fact more air support could have been provided at Chhamb with the resources allotted to 4 TAC if only the Army had asked for it in that sector. Complaining to the Chief was not necessary. What the Corps should have done was to liaise with the TAC Commander and divert more effort where it was required. Instead the complaint went to the COAS, whose Director of Operations spoke to the Deputy Chief of Air Staff who said that adequate air effort had already been assigned to 4 TAC. The COAS then spoke to the Prime Minister who called me. I asked the AOC-in-C Western Air Command, Air Mshl M.M. Engineer to give more air-support to Chhamb and he diverted more aircraft to that sector. It was in this way that eventually OC 4 TAC learnt that he was falling short of army expectations. The moral of the tale: Some Army commanders tend to use the Air Force as a whipping boy if the Army fails to do its job. If it succeeds, the credit goes to the Army-with the Air Force providing a bonus. However, the reason for this particular misunderstanding has already been explained. Let us hope that any such will not recur in the future. And perhaps it may be better, if possible, to appoint a fighter pilot as a TAC commander rather than a navigator because by training and experience he may be in a better position to assess the need of a critical hour, ask for the right kind of close support and direct it to the maximum advantage. A victory, luckily, wipes off all shortfalls.
According to intelligence reports, a big Pakistani thrust was in the offing in the Poonch area, south of the Haji Pir bulge (Pak 7 Infantry Division was supposed to be there). There was considerable build-up during October and November around. Kahuta, overlooking Poonch, which had been made a base for a major artillery barrage on Poonch. By December, Poonch was besieged. Maj Gen Kundan Singh, GOC 25 Division had the responsibility of looking after the area. The Pakistanis undoubtedly had some offensive intentions against Poonch though General Candeth discounted the likelihood that our troops were in serious danger of being routed. We had established strong defensive positions all along the border during the past twenty-four years and to dislodge us from them would be no easy task. Nevertheless, the Pakistanis did try, far they infiltrated some commandos into our territory on the night of 3 December while shelling Indian positions. The commandos were to be followed by a couple of battalions, presumably to wipe out some of our vital bunkers and observation posts and clear the way to Poonch. The commandos were intercepted and the battalions that followed them more than met their match in the Sikhs, the Jats, the Mahars and the Jammu and Kashmir Rifles who were guarding that part of the ceasefire line. The Mahars had the honour of capturing the Pakistani CO. There was fighting on both banks of the Mendhar river as well, a little to the south of Poonch where the Pakistanis were thrown out by the Rajputana Rifles. The Pak attack in this area was a minor nuisance: It never really threatened to break our defences.
The artillery barrage started on 4 December and continued on the 5th. We put in some attacks by Vampires based in Srinagar but they had little effect. That is understandable, for these, the oldest of the IAF jets, were too fast for operation in narrow, wooded valleys where targets are difficult to spot. The Harvards-No. 123 Squadron had a total of six pilots and four aircraft-were used more effectively. They were slow enough to operate in narrow valleys, and they could be seen both by our troops and by the enemy, improving the morale of the former and depressing that of the latter. Initially four pilots and three aircraft operated from Poonch. Later the Sirsa detachment of two pilots and one aircraft also moved in there. But the aircraft that really carried a punch to Poonch was the AN 12 used as a bomber. These transport planes, designed for dropping supplies out of the tail end of the aircraft, were adapted to drop bombs. This was the first time that these big, clumsy aircraft were put to such use. On the night of 6 December six AN 125 went from their base at Bareilly in Uttar Pradesh via Rohtang Pass and Srinagar, flying by bright moonlight, they attacked individually at staggered intervals. The firing of Pak guns gave away their position. We used World War II 500 lb bombs. Forty tonnes were dropped at Kahuta but, being so old, 40 per cent were duds. Even then, I was told by no less a person than General Candeth himself, thereafter the Indian Army had no further trouble with the artillery barrage. He could not give details of the exact damage to Pakistani troops or guns, but villagers reported that the bombing caused landslides which blocked the only road serving the area. That was enough to prevent the movement of supplies and artillery to the forward troops and virtually ended the battle of Poonch. On their way back, two Mirages chased them unsuccessfully-all six came back, safe and sound. For this exploit and others to be described later, the commander of this squadron, No. 44 “The Himalayan Geese”, Wg Cdr V.B. Vashist was awarded the Maha Vir Chakra and San Ldr C.S. Ahluwalia the Vir Chakra.
Poonch
Shakargarh
The only major offensive action planned by the Army in the area under Western Command was to be mounted by 1 Corps under Lt Gen K.K. Singh. The role of the Corps was quite specifically offensive. Lt Gen Candeth was responsible for getting 1 Corps to launch the offensive-he ordered that operation without prior approval of Army HQ whereas Gen Manekshaw’s directive was that no offensive operation should be undertaken without his express approval.
Shakargarh is a town close to the tip of a Pakistani salient jutting into Indian territory south of Jammu. The shape of this salient is roughly triangular, if laid on its side the apex is east of Shakargarh. The other towns in this salient are Zafarwal to the north-west of Shakargarh, closer to the northern border than to the eastern, and Narowal to the south-west. On our side, from Jammu in a south-easterly direction are situated Samba and Kathua and then Pathankot almost facing the tip of the bulge, just about ten miles away from the border. Pakistani 8 Division under its 2 Corps, said to be their strongest, was ready with its complement of tanks and artillery hoping and expecting, according to Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan, the Indian Army to step into the bulge. Their 15 Infantry Division was deployed slightly north in the Sialkot sector.
Ranged against the Pakistani deployment was our 1 Corps under Lt Gen K.K. Singh with three infantry divisions under him, two armoured brigades and one artillery brigade. There was 54 Infantry Division under Maj Gen W.A.G. Pinto with his armour and artillery based at Samba to the north of Shakargarh. There was 39 Infantry Division under Maj Gen B.R. Prabhu a little further to the east. One brigade of this division was moved to Ramgarh to strengthen a slightly stretched defence line that was considered to be a weak link. 39 Infantry Division was to hold the base line.
At the end of November, Lt Gen Candeth was obliged to move one brigade of this division to Poonch thus splitting up 39 Division into three. Finally there was 36 Infantry Division under Maj Gen Balwant Singh Ahluwalia to the south of the tip of the bulge, south-east of Shakargarh.
What was the overall plan for 1 Corps? Basically it was to ensure the safety of this highly sensitive area, to secure the main line of communication with Jammu and Kashmir, and to cause as much attrition as possible to the enemy. And how was this to be achieved? By only leaning on Pakistan or by trying to capture specific objectives such as Zafarwal, Shakargarh, and Narowal? If it was the former, then i Corps can be considered very successful. If it was the latter then 1 Corps was not very successful. There was a difference of opinion between the Army Chief and the Theatre Commander on this matter. When the Chief, alongwith Shri D.P. Dhar, met Lt Gen Candeth on 30 November 1971 he briefed Lt Gen Candeth not to be on the offensive till he was ordered by Army HQ. But General Candeth felt differently. He writes: “Offensive action was the only way to relieve pressure on other fronts whereas Army HQ wanted Western Command to remain on the defensive without losing ground” He decided to go for a “limited offensive”.
There was no Pak offensive here. Our 1 Corps started its offensive on the evening of the 5th. There are a number of streams in this bulge running from north-east to south-west which finally join the Ravi. The
eastern-most is the Bein river, joining the Ravi north of Dera Baba Nanak. Further west is Basantar, flowing east of Zafarwal and Narowal but west of Shakargarh. Even further west in Degh Nadi, flowing west of Zafarwal and Narowal.
39 Division inched forward between Basantar and Degh Nadi towards Zafarwal and Passur but hit a minefield on the afternoon of 7 December. Maj Gen Prabhu tried to outflank it by going a little to the east but by the 11th he was bogged down again and halted. The thrust by 54 Division also progressed up to the 11th and then was stopped, at least temporarily, by the minefield. Thrusts were made by 36 Division striking east to west towards Shakargarh. Pakistani troops vacated Nainakot on 9 December and fell back but still the progress was slow. On 11 December Lt Gen Candeth directed Lt Gen K.K. Singh to put two armoured brigades and one more infantry brigade at the disposal of 36 Division since they seemed to be in a better position to go forward and attack Shakargarh tentatively by the the 13/14 December. 54 Division was to threaten Shakargarh from the north. From this division, 91 Brigade was able to maintain its progress upto the evening of 15 December. Big tank battles were fought. Major Hoshiar Singh and 2nd Lt Arun Khetrapal of 3 Grenadiers of 74 Infantry Brigade of 54 Division won their Param Vir Chakras posthumously. Meanwhile the engineers of 72 Infantry Brigade of 39 Division managed to establish a bridgehead over the minefield in a lane of weak spots.
On 14 December, an Air Observation Post with 36 Division reported the movement of many vehicles going west from Shakargarh. Instead of keeping their minds open to all possibilities, the Divisional HQ interpreted this optimistically. They thought that the enemy was falling back from Shakargarh as they had done from Nainakot and decided to attack but, in fact, reinforcements had been brought in. Our troops could make no progress so the attack was called off. The next attempt was scheduled for 17 December but the ceasefire forestalled it. 54 Division, however, was about four miles from Zafarwal dominating the Zafarwal-Shakargarh road.
I asked General Candeth why i Corps had made such poor progress in its advance into the Shakargarh bulge. This was a question I often asked in the daily meetings of the Chiefs of Staff during the war as later did members of the Air Force units which took part in the operations. Could it be that the Air Force had not given the support required by the Army?
According to General Candeth, K.K. Singh was an extremely cautious person. He was a good staff officer but lacked the dynamism required of a fighting general who could drive his forces forward. His advance on Shakargarh was conducted according to the text book and was admittedly slow. Lt Gen Candeth felt that
more could have been achieved had 1 Corps not been so concerned about the gap between themselves and 26 Infantry Division and moved faster. In that case it is doubtful whether reinforcement from Pakistani 33 Infantry Division would have reached Shakargarh in time to take part in the defence of the town, and opposition would have been lighter. Thus not only would its capture have been easier but the tempo of our advance would have been accelerated and we would have been able to go deeper into the salient.
been asked to take on tasks that were patently unproductive, he replied that if certain facilities are available to a commander then he is inclined to use them, whether he needs them or not. This is apparently what happened in the Shakargarh battle. Air support was available in plenty and i Corps often used it in a wasteful manner, expecting it to perform jobs that would have been better done by the ground forces themselves.
Elaborating on the defensive tasks of Western Command, General Candeth said that 26 Division had been held in the Jammu area, without taking part in any of the earlier operations, and was scheduled to go into Sialkot on 18 December. But the unilateral ceasefire was declared before that could be done.
8 TAC
Moreover, the offensive was undertaken on Lt Gen Candeth’s orders and not on the Army Chief’s who would have preferred the Corps to just hold the line between Samba and Pathankot without moving forward at all.
In extenuation of I Corps’ slow rate of advance, General Candeth said that its vanguard ran into the dense minefields on the approaches to Shakargarh. On this I drew the General’s attention to the fact that the late Maj Gen Sukhwant Singh, in his book Defence of the Western Border described the minefields as not being formidable at all. According to him, the mines had been planted by village labour under the direction of the Pakistan Army; their location was indicated by pegs, which showed where clear paths ran through the minefields. This General Candeth refused to accept. Instead he showed me a sketch of the minefields that had been located by our troops in their advance in the Shakargarh area. The first line of minefields was approximately 2,000 yds from our territory inside Pakistan. The next line of minefields lay five or six miles beyond the first one. Strong defensive positions with anti-tank weapons, overlooked the second line of minefields and it was these, defences that caused considerable damage to our armour. Our intention was to encircle the defensive positions from the south and the north, but in the event only one threat from the northern side managed to get anywhere close to it. He was unable to give the precise number of tanks lost in this effort and said that the casualties amongst troops who had attempted to cross the minefields at night amounted to about fifty. The movement of tanks was also impeded by the fact that the lead tanks which were meant to clear the path through the minefields were themselves damaged and immobilised. The toll taken of Pakistani tanks, according to Maj Gen Sukhwant Singh, was 43 destroyed and 20 captured in this operation. The casualty in personnel given by him was 222 killed, 900 wounded, 60 missing of the enemy and 169 killed, 506 wounded, 17 missing of ours.
The minefields and the defensive fortifications show how well prepared the Pakistanis were for an Indian advance in the Shakargarh bulge. Our attack which, in any case, came two days after the fighting started lacked all element of surprise and was evidently bogged down in the strong defences that had been prepared by the Pakistanis.
I know that the Air Force was called upon to bomb the minefields in the hope of detonating the mines. However, it was not possible to assess the effectiveness of such attacks for it was difficult to distinguish between the explosions of bombs and mines. Moreover, other than the destruction of a mine by a direct hit, which could only be a matter of chance for they were not visible to pilots of ground attack aircraft, it is most unlikely that the clods of earth thrown up by bomb explosions would cause anti-tank mines to detonate though they may conceivably cause the odd anti-personnel mine to explode. Asked about the effectiveness of air strikes on the minefields, General Candeth agreed that they should not have been used. In fact, in his opinion, such bombing must have complicated the situation further by covering some parts of the minefields with debris and making other mines more sensitive to the advance of both tanks and personnel.
While General Candeth admitted that the progress of 1 Corps was slow, in his opinion that was not due to any lack of support from the Air Force. In reply to my question as to why the Air Force had often
The Tactical Air Centre that liaised with 1 Corps in 1971 was No 8 TAC under Gp Capt S. J. Singh, since retired. Before the war 8 TAC was at Mathura in Uttar Pradesh about a hundred miles south of Delhi with HQ 1 Corps. The divisions of 1 Corps, however, were spread out over a vast area-one was located in Saugar in Madhhya Pradesh and another in Jhansi in Uttar Pradesh. Here the TAC was under Central Air Command whereas Adampur and Pathankot, which were the bases meant to support this TAC, were, and still are, under Western Air Command. Then 8 TAC was placed under WAC and aircraft from Hindon were sometimes sent to take part in joint Army Air Force exercises. But even these exercises were hardly realistic. Often the peace time exercises were without aircraft and even the communication system that was supposed to be under the control of the TAC was not satisfactory. Preplanned support could be arranged but offensive support at short call did not work out for various reasons. Firstly, Hindon was an air defence base. Secondly, aircraft from Hindon took too long to get to the target. Thirdly, the pilots were unfamiliar with the area.
Before the move of the Corps and the TAC from Mathura, offensive support exercises were held in Punjab under the direction of Air Vice Mshl Lazaro of Advance HQ of WAC. They were live exercises with aircraft to work out the tactics for air support, to sort out problems of how the FAC (Forward Air Controller) should take over aircraft and direct them on to targets. Formal procedures were not prescribed and the arrangements were somewhat adhoc. The problem of limited range of communications from ground to air, and limited time, was aggravated by the low-level approach of the aircraft flying at high speed. Identification of target was also difficult. At that stage the FAC was effective for only about 20 per cent of the total number of sorties.
During the fighting, the number of sorties allotted to 8 TAC was 16 per day. Three or four of these were reconnaissance sorties flown every day, the rest would be for close support or strafing and bombing. The Corps was free to ask for more if they needed to. They wanted CAPs to be on call at the combat area and they were provided. Quite often, all the sorties were not utilised and were surrendered to Advance HQ. Sukhois of No. 26 Squadron from Adampur and Hunters from Pathankot flew for 1 Corps. Mostly
these aircraft were escorted by Mig 21s. The Air Contact Team (ACT) from the squadrons worked with the Army Liaison Officer, the Brigade Major at the Brigade HQ. They, however, had to wait for the call to come from the Battalion. To travel through all the channels of communication sometimes it took too long to be effective. The tonnage of bombs dropped was high but whether they were delivered on the right target was not quite certain. Pakistan’s camouflage was good. Their armour was not visible. It was only when they fired their guns from the groves of trees that they gave away their positions. Preplanned support demands were sent out on land lines but without mentioning the target or the “Time Over Target” (TOT) which were sent by W/T cypher. Immediate support demands were orginated by the Corps HQ based on situations as reported to its operations room which functioned as Joint Operations Room for all practical purposes. Aircraft were sent out as decided by Corps and TAC bypassing prescribed procedures. Attacks were based on area identification. There were hardly any specific targets, with the result, possibly, that not very great damage was done. Likewise, the PAF attacks, twenty or thirty sorties in all, did no damage to Corps HQ and the support they gave to their frontline was not very effective.
On 10 December, 11 Corps from further south reported movement of arm our north-east towards 1 Corps. Our airreconnaissance did not discover anything despite Air Vice Mshl Lazaro’s efforts to locate it. Our Army activities were not seriously hampered by enemy air attacks but the movement of our forces in this sector was somewhat inhibited and defensive.
I interviewed this TAC Commander and the strain of frustration he had felt was evident. One has to admit that there is always scope for improvement. However, that may be, in the Shakargarh-Chhamb area we did manage to establish complete air superiority. The enemy did not challenge it either. On 16 and 17 December our aircraft flew into well-defended targets such as the railway yard at Lahore. There was no response. Also we went in against Wazirabad. Again there was no response. If they had not withdrawn, they were keeping their eyes shut.
administrative and functional control was meant to be under Air HQ but it was mainly exercised by HQ Western Air Command. This dual control did cause some difficulties which affected the progress of the Establishment in fulfilling its charter of duties. However, such teething troubles often beset new ventures and sort themselves out as difficulties arise.
The TACDE was set up with Wg Cdr A.K. Mukherji as CO who had done his Day Fighter Leader’s Course in UK. The two types of aircraft with which his unit dealt at the time were Sukhois and the Mig 21s. The two flight commanders were San Ldr D.K. Dhiman for Sukhois, and San Ldr O.P. Sharma for the Migs. They had no aircraft assigned to them, the aircraft and pilots were borrowed from the squadrons. Gp Capt A.L. Michael in the Directorate of Offensive Operations at Air HQ under the Deputy Chief of Air Staff (DCAS) pushed through all the paper work to form this unit.
In April 1971 the unit moved to Adampur. They were engagaed in evolving tactics for strikes as well as CAPs. By mid-May they were conducting gunnery trials at the Armament Training Wing at Jamnagar. Research and experiments were taken on. For instance, how strong were the blast pens? How much ammunition, how much of a beating, would they take? It took sixteen rockets, four attacks, to damage them seriously. Exercises went on during May, June, July. In July they were directed by HQ WAC to train themselves for night operations. At that time, fighters did not have the instrumentation for night operations as is now available in Jaguars or Mirage 2000s. But in spite of this, they started navigation sorties, dummy attacks by rockets and bombs and night aerobatics at low level. At night, specially when there is no moon, land marks are difficult to make out,they simply get obliterated in the darkness. So the straighter the route, the fewer the turns, the better is the chance of reaching the correct destination. The course, the speed, the height had to be carefully monitored. Even the lights inside the aircraft had to be as dim as possible for better night vision. Larger capacity long-range fuel tanks were needed for long trips for the Sukhois. Procedures were written up, seminars were held. They were using Ambala also as a base. But there was shortage of accommodation at Ambala, so it was decided that they should operate from Amristar. Another important factor was that in case of a war, Amritsar was closer to the border.
San Ldr Jog, OC Flying, Ambala, was appointed the base commander at Amritsar, and entrusted with the task of getting the infrastructure ready for the efficient operation of this prestigious little unit. A couple of helicopter detachments were also lodged there. To begin with there were only two officers and fifty or sixty men. Tents were put up. Bunkers were built. Mobile Echelon Maintenance Units (MEMUS) were set up. There were no Bulk Petrol installations. Indian Oil Corporation put up one, and it was supplemented with rubberised fuel tanks. There were no underground bombdumps. So large bunkers were constructed to store ammunitions and bombs. In case of war operations could cover Adampur, Pathankot, Amritsar, Ambala and Halwara, according to need.
A problem was foreseen regarding communications. During night or day, radio VHF (Very High Frequency) communications is an effective aid. But TACDE aircraft were expected to go deep into Pakistan and air defence of Pakistan was very alert in picking up such communication. The use of homing beacons was out of the question because they would give away our position to the enemy.
Tactical Air Combat Development Establishment (TACDE)
In addition to the regular squadrons there was another unit, small in size but not small in its contribution. Some of our senior fighter pilots of promise were sent to the Day Fighter Leader’s Course in UK for training in leadership, to lead formations into combat and develop tactics for various situations. Pakistan used to do the same. We had started a Pilot’s Attack Instructor’s School under the Armament Training Wing at Jamnagar in Saurashtra. But we wanted, we needed, an establishment of our own on the same lines as the one in UK. So Tactics and Combat Development and Training Squadron (T and CD and C Sqn) came into being at Ambala in February 1971. Its charter was to develop new methods of combat and attack with fighter and fighter bomber aircraft to make the Air Force more effective. When this unit was established, the Pilot’s Attack Instructor’s School was not needed any more and was abolished. Later, the name of the unit was changed to TACDE, that is, Tactical Air Combat Development Establishment. Its
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Air Mshl M.M. Engineer thought up an ingenious innovation. It was to use a Mig 21 as a relay station. The call-sign was “sparrow” and the aircraft would pass on necessary information from the signals units to other aircraft flying in the region and specially help those returning home at night. RT procedures were abbreviated and coded for the purpose.
Punjab
When the runway at Pathankot was bombed by Mirages and needed prompt repair, CAPs were flown by aircraft from Adampur so the job could be quickly done. In the battle for the Shakargarh bulge, aircraft from Pathankot, Adampur and Halwara did the job of close support. Since the radar at Pathankot was not very effective and powerful, air defence was done in coordination with Amritsar.
There were more than thirty night raids on Pathankot by B 57 Canberra bombers during the fourteen days of fighting. Day raids by Mirages were relatively few, may be only four or five. Sabres or F 1048 seldom came to this area. Our CAPs were flown either by Gnats or by Mig als and we felt the need for improved infra-structure for air defence in the way of more powerful and low-looking radar. We had very few radar controlled guns, operated, of course, by army units.
The railway marshalling yards in the Lahore-Rawalpindi and Montgomery-Raiwind-Lahore sectors were effectively raided to upset the enemy supply-line of war material. Sialkot sector was not spared either. In organising these raids, the radar helped us to avoid enemy CAPs which they flew in an oval pattern.
OUR MAIN BULWARK in the Punjab are the bases at Pathankot, Adampur, Halwara and Amritsar. Pathankot is the oldest, barely sixteen km or ten miles from the border in the west with the state of Jammu and Kashmir to its north. Pakistan honoured them with great attention both in the 1965 as well as the 1971 conflict.
Pathankot
Halwara
Air Cmde L.M. Katre (the late Air Chief Marshal) arrived at Pathankot and took charge of the base from 6 December 1971. The station had received its first peppering by the PAF on the preemptive strike on the evening of the 3rd, without much damage. The attack was repeated on the 4th and managed to damage some equipment but there was no loss of life. A couple of Hunter squadrons, one of Gnats and a detachment of Migs were already there, well dispersed, and protected in their hard-cover pens. By the 7th one more squadron of Hunters and one of Migs joined the fray. Though there were some losses morale was high. Commendable effort was put into counter air, interdiction and offensive air support close to the line of contact from Pathankot and Adampur, specially at Chhamb. Deep penetration strikes were carried out in Pakistan by our Hunters not only on nearby airfields such as Chander and Walton near Lahore but on more distant airfields also such as Murid, Chaklala, Chakjhumra, Mianwali, Peshawar, Kohat and their powerful signals unit at Sakesar. Wg Cdr C.V. Parker, OC No. 20 Squadron, earned his Maha Vir Chakra by leading his Hunters skillfully to perform feats of daring, determination and gallantry. One highlight was the attack on the Oil Refinery at Attock situated far to the west on the river Indus, on 6 December by a formation of three aircraft. Their tactical routing was inspired. They flew beyond the target and then turned around to approach and attack from the west. It was a well defended area but thanks to their clever flying, the anti-aircraft guns did not succeed in bringing them down. Two days later they put in a repeat performance on these targets, that is, the Oil Refinery at Attock and the airfield at Chaklala.
One of Parker’s Flight Commanders, San Ldr R.N. Bharadwaj won his MVC in this sector. He shot up PAF aircraft on the ground and also in the airbattle over Chhamb. His formation bombed and damaged the Mangla Dam and its Hydro-electric power house which was heavily defended by ack-ack guns. They were hit by ground fire, but the formation returned to base without any loss.
Halwara is situated south-west of the industrial and prosperous township of Ludhiana in Punjab, in the agricultural belt. Gp Capt C.V. Gole (later Air Marshal) had been the base commander for a couple of years already before the war began. This relatively long stint gave him time to gear up the station-not as a response to a crisis situation, it was just his way of administration. Since the base is not far from the border, he had organised what is called “pattern camouflage” as a matter of routine. The crop of the surrounding area being mainly wheat, he had wheat planted in 200 acres of land within the periphery of the airfield, running fairly close to the shoulders of the runway so that the runway would merge with the surrounding landscape as much as possible.
There was a squadron of Gnats, No. 9, at Halwara. Two squadrons of Sukhois, Nos. 222 and 108, arrived in August. A detachment of four Mig 21s from Hindon joined later. Some of our obsolescent Vampires were also ordered to take up residence there. Accommodation both for aircraft and men was short. There was a shortage of officers as well. There was no chief technical officer for eight months, no chief administrative officer for four and no OC Flying for about four or five months. There were not enough hard cover pens for all the high-tailed Sukhois or even for all the Gnats. Pens for some of the Sukhois were improvised with steel structures. The Gnats had to make do with being on paved platforms under trees, protected on the sides by sands bags and/or covered with camouflage nets when necessary. For each Sukhoi squadron there, about 520 men had to be accommodated on the station.
GP Capt Gole’s emphasis was on low-level air defence. Low-level radar would have helped but, as he pointed out, we did not have it. Mobile Observer Flights were organised, each flight comprising of a number of units or posts. Those who manned them were given training for about three months, provided
with single side-band radio sets to give whatever early warning was possible by visual observation and they were fairly useful during the conflict. Later in the year, but before the fighting started, exercise Cactus Lily was launched for training in low-level flying and fighting. Different techniques were tried out. Base Air Defence Centres (BADCs) were set up with Base Air Defence Officers (BADOs). Codes were simplified for quick response such as ‘Go’ or ‘No Go’. Reports from the Mobile Observation Posts came to the BADC which had a panel arrangement to receive these calls, like call bells. The state of readiness was excellentthis depends on the time allowed for scrambling-on the length of time for stand by, whether 15 minutes or 5 or 2. Gnats can scramble in 45 seconds and Migs in 1 minute and 45 seconds. The Operation Readiness Platform (ORP) was controlled by the BADC. There were two missile squadrons also controlled by the BADC. Our own aircraft returning from simulated or real sorties were required to use a call sign to the BADC through the Mobile Observation Post for identification, so as not to be shot up by our own guns or missiles by mistake. The COs of other bases such as Pathankot, Adampur and Chandigarh were advised to put their heads together and benefit from each other’s ideas.
The second task for the station was close air support specially in case of a breakout at Fazilka or Suleimanke. This did happen in both places, and the Sukhois acquitted them seleves very well there and at other targets also. No. 222 Squadron led by Wg Cdr D’Costa flew against the airfield at Risalwala near Lyallpur on 4 December, in the morning, and later gave close support at Suleimanke and further north along the river at Hussainiwala and Dera Baba Nanak and at Narowal in the Shakargarh bulge. They flew interdiction missions against Chistian Mandi on the main railway almost due west of Ganganagar and also on the Kasur, Raiwind-Lahore railway track and the marshalling yards destroying both war material as well as lines of communication.
The first attack, on the evening of 3 December, though claimed to be aimed at Halwara by the PAF was on neighbouring Faridkot to the west of Halwara. The second wave bombed a village south of Halwara. The third wave, consisting of one aircraft, made a more determined effort around midnight and did manage to locate and reach Halwara. The Barnala Signals Unit picked it up 6 or 7 minutes before it came overhead. The first pass overshot the airfield but the aircraft came back and the guns and missiles opened up. The Sikh Light Infantry unit managed the ground defence guns but unfortunately the Gurkha Artillery regiment which had trained for three months during the exercise Cactus Lily had been moved out, leaving this important work to be done by a Territorial Army unit. The B 57 Canberra dropped eight bombs, three of which landed on the runway making two major craters while some failed to explode. One of these bombs exploded when an army officer, a Major of the Territorial Army, kicked it. He lost a leg and a navigator from a missile unit was killed. Shrapnel hit the base commander also, but luckily it was a minor injury. Three missiles were fired at the Canberra; one hit the aircraft when it attempted another pass. The PAF Chief, Air Mshl Rahim Khan, admitted this loss. The aircaft managed to fly over Ferozepur into Pakistan and crashed there. The pilot apparently ejected. This kill was not granted to our side for lack of actual evidence, for example aircraft wreckage, although we had evidence of it on radio-monitored tapes.
Three days later a sizeable force of six Mirages came and dropped bombs near a village called Khanna, east of Halwara. This is a wheat market on the Ambala-Ludhiana road. The military significance of attacking this mandi for agricultural produce was not clear. Later the PAF attacked Bhatinda also, to the south-west of Halwara. Out of eighteen bombs that landed there, only two exploded.
On Halwara proper, there was only one attack, the one around midnight of 3 December. The craters were filled up that night with aggregate and quick-drying cement kept ready for the purpose. There was some debris-a layer of mud and dust-on and around the part of the runway that was hit. In spite of that damage, on the 4th morning, 14 missions flew out to do their assigned jobs. It was a very busy time up to the 12th when the Prime Minister addressed a huge gathering in Delhi and CAPs were flown by Migs to ensure the safety of the occasion.
The principal task of the Gnat squadron was air defence of the base along with Migs. This involved cockpit readiness for low-level intercepts, dawn to dusk. CAPs were flown on warning or to cover returning missions. Strike missions were undertaken by the Sukhois. This lasted till the 9th. Thereafter, high level sweeps were flown in pairs along the border right down to Ganganagar area to assist our strike aircraft or to intercept the enemy. Flying time was up to twenty minutes, during which low-level strike missions operated in Pakistan territory. Later, coordinated sweeps were flown to point IAF aircraft on Pak radar in order to induce PAF fighters to come out and fight. There was, however, hardly any response. The squadron also operated escort missions with Sukhois. They took part in strike missions. on close support as well. On 9 December, two Gnats met four Sabres in the Kasur sector. Unfortunately they could not fighter because their guns jammed due to some mechanical failure.
There was a plan to give close support from Halwara to No.1 Armoured Division under Maj Gen Gurbachan Singh if he was ordered to spearhead an offensive. For a quick response of from twenty to thirty minutes, OC Halwara made arrangements for direct contact instead of going through the TAC and the FAC. He sent his officers to the Division so that they could get to know each other personally and build up a relationship which would make working together easier. Ultimately, the Division received no orders and remained as the Army HQ Reserve.
Adampur
Adampur is close to, and to the north-east of, Jalandhar which is an important army cantonment. Lodged there were two Sukhoi squadrons, Nos. 26 and 101, and one of Migs, No. 1. The base was commanded by Air Cmde Randhir Singh, No. 26 Squadron by Wg Cdr R. Batra, No. 101–The Falcons-by Wg Cdr Khanna and the Migs by Wg Cdr Upkar Singh. The station was well-prepared. The operational training with dawn flying, dusk flying, night flying, low flying, various ways of attack was in full swing. The runway was camouflaged. The aircraft were tucked away in hardcover pens. There was a radar, a missile unit, and Mobile Observation Posts. No air-attacks at all were made on Adampur during the conflict. However, on 5
December, the sound of a terrific explosion was heard about three miles to the north but the radar picked up nothing nor did the Observation Posts report anything. There was no warning at all.
Adampur had to cope with a dirty trick played by Pakistan. They flew a number of balloons which were picked up by our radar and a few missiles were wasted on these spurious tar-gets. Also there was a sad accident. Our Migs were chasing an enemy aircraft one night in the area. There was some confusion about their identity and one Mig was shot down. We lost Flt Lt Dhavle.
The task for the Sukhoi squadrons was close support: Shakargarh and Sialkot areas for No. 26 and Chhamb in addition to that for No. 101. The Migs were for flying CAPs and escort duty. On the 5th and 6th, No. 26 Squadron was called to Hussainiwala. Then they were back again at Shakargarh. As expected, Shakargarh was very well fortified. On the ground, there were three minefieids at intervals which bothered the Army. From the air structures like mounds, or large moulds, with minaret-like watch towers close to them could be seen. These mould-like structures were so strongly built that our weapons hardly made ardent on them. There seemed to be basements in them into which their tanks and other vehicles disappeared. An important target was an army concentration and fuel dump south of Shakargarh in a wooded area. A photo-recce thirty-six hours after the air attack showed the place was still burning. The Indian Army commander who was to attack that area rang up to congratulate the squadron for the accuracy of their aim.
Both squadrons, 26 and 101, acquitted themselves extremely well. They averaged about a dozen missions per day, some of four aircraft and some of two or three. Each aircraft flew two to three sorties a day which is a strenuous effort and a good record. Each squadron flew a total of about 250 missions during the war. Most missions of No. 26 Squadron were not preplanned but immediate, on call. They tried to bait the PAF to come out and fight but there was no response. No. 26 Squadron lost four aircraft, all due to ground fire and the losses of No. 101 were about the same.
Two of the young pilots of No. 26 were those who were loaned to TACDE-FLt Lts Kadam and Tambe. The third was my ADC, San Ldr D. S. Jafa, who insisted on giving up his safe, secure and prestigious job at Air HQ and going back to his squadron. He wanted to be with his flight when the crucial hour for testing courage, training, efficiency, and the moral test of sharing risk and danger came along. On 5 December, he was hit by ground fire when flying close to Lahore. He had to eject and in the process his spine was injured. He was taken prisoner and in Pakistan he had to be in plaster for months. The injury was such that finally he had to leave the Air Force. But let Jafa speak for himself.
College Bracknell, UK. The Chief gave me a variety of tasks and my duties developed more along the lines of an operational staff officer rather than a mere ADC.
I was with the Chief in Jorhat on the fateful day–25 March 1971–the day the Pakistan army began its crackdown in Bangladesh. An urgent summons from the Prime Minister brought us back to Delhi the same evening. As the crisis deepened the Indian armed forces alerted themselves to the changing scenario and prepared to face the inevitable. Working for the Chief till rejoined my squadron was the most rewarding experience of my life.
I have been asked time and again why I should have left a prestigious appointment which was bound to give a tremendous boost to my career, and run off to fight a war and possibly get killed. I have usually shrugged off such queries with the remark, “Well, that’s our basic job, isn’t it.” The real cause perhaps lies deep within oneself and usually sounds pompous when expressed.
In early November it was clear that the war would be upon us before the end of the year. It was time for me to take the personal decision to go to the war and then make a bid to be sent to my operational squadron. I also had to broach the subject to my wife. It is indeed curious how adaptable Service wives get to be. If the husband is posted at an operational unit she simply accepts the fact that he will go to war. There are no tantrums, no weakening of the spirit, just the silent acceptance of whatever fate has in store for her. But the same woman on a non-operational assignment would equally easily accept the fact that she is not immediately threatened. Instances of weakening sometimes do happen when the husband is suddenly called out from a safe assignment and thrust into a dangerous job.
During our long evening strolls we discussed the gathering war clouds and the international forces that could be arraigned against us. There was no doubt about our excellent training and morale, and in spite of the more sophisticated weapons of the enemy we were confident of coming out on top. The disturbing factor was the uncertainty about the likely intervention by certain foreign powers. It was, therefore, imperative that we go all out and clinch the issue in the shortest possible time. To this end all resources, particularly human ones, had to be mobilised and anyone, anywhere, who could contribute towards this endeavour had a moral duty to do so. And this is where I came in as a person and a fighter pilot.
My wife was only too well aware of my self-esteem as a fighter pilot and it did not take her long to understand that everyone at some time in his life comes to a point where his life’s work stands to be affirmed or negated. A push or a nudge from the person closest to you can be the decisive factor. I am happy to say that I got that push in the right direction.
The second task was to tackle the Chief. A person holding supreme responsibility often comes to depend a great deal upon individuals who provide him a welter of services that facilitate his work and decision-making. Allowing me to leave at this juncture meant a diminution in the services that he most needed.
In my relationship with the Chief, personal matters were never brought up in the office. For myself, I had found the time spent in the isolation of elevators ideal for this purpose. The first time I broached the
Individual Initiative [San Ldr Dhirendra Singh Jafa, Vr C, VM]
I joined the staff of Air Chief Marshal PC Lal as ADC in Jan 1971– after graduating from the RAF Staff
subject I gently mentioned that perhaps it was time that individual placings be completed. A quizzical look and silence was all that I got. The second time, I suggested that pilots in ground jobs ought to put in a few sorties, just in case. “You think so?” was the only comment. The third time, on 26 November, I made bold to say: “Sir, will you permit me to rejoin my squadron?”
“You haven’t flown for two years. Besides, isn’t this job important enough for the war?”
“Sir, it’s something like this. I feel that I should be there when the shooting starts, otherwise I shall never be able to look the younger pilots in the eye again. I am of the right age and seniority and I must volunteer.” I said this with some heat and wondered if I had said too much.
Half-an-hour later the inter-com buzzed, the Chief was on the line, “Which Station am I visiting this afternoon?” he enquired. “Pathankot, Sir.”
“Well, change that to Adampur… Isn’t that where your squadron is? And, by the way, you may pack your bags.”
I was stunned for a moment. So, this was it-the war for me. I got about twenty minutes to collect my kit and bid farewell to my family.
Incidentally, the CAS himself, as a Flight Lieutenant, had done the same in October 1943. He insisted on being posted to a squadron when he had been an instructor at the OTU (Operational Training Unit) at Peshawar for almost a year and at Ambala before that. He was posted to No.7 Squadron which he had instructed for several months and was appointed a flight commander, and moved to Assam in March 1944.
At Adampur there were two SU-7 ground attack squadrons, No. 26, that is mine, No. 101, and one air defence squadron, No 1. When two units of the same type and with the same role are based on a station a certain competitiveness is unavoidable. The number of hours flown, the standard of training, the capabilities of the individual pilots, the rates of accidents, are some of the areas of healthy competition.
For the next six days I flew practice sorties, also a few at night, with almost all the pilots. We revived our old operating procedures, which are like understandings in any given situation, and quickly formed excellent teams.
such a vital target. Finally, I called ‘Last Attack’ (I think it was in the eighth attack) and after firing the remaining rockets I pulled out. I found that my aircraft seemed to be getting hit from below as if with incessant rain. In just a few seconds I began losing control and huge flames broke out around the cockpit. I knew I should have to bale out but having turned homewards I wanted to delay getting out-the border was less than two minutes flying time away and I wanted to cross it. On the radio my No. 4 (Late Flt Lt Mohan) was calling out: “Eject… bale out… Jafa…eject.” By this time the aeroplane was spinning, hopelessly out of control, the flames were frightening, and I pulled the ejection lever.
Those two minutes of flying time cost me one full year in Pakistani jails and an unattended injury that led to my permanent medical unfitness.
Later I learnt that the boys in No. 26 Squadron put up a very fine show. This was one of those squadrons which flew the highest number of operational missions in areas where the fighting and the risks were heaviest. It also suffered the highest number of battle casualties.
During the post-mortems that each mission is subjected to both officially and unofficially in crew rooms and mess bars the verdict on my being shot down was that I had over-stretched the time on the target. There are many proponents of the two-pass theory, yet many feel that target acquisition being a very uncertain task under conditions of total camouflage and heavy anti-aircraft fire, one may have to risk more passes in order to suitably destroy a target that has been acquired. In one sense the fact that I carried out eight passes could be dubbed as indiscipline.
My own view is that having reached the target and spotted it, when ack-ack has opened up all around, when you are loaded with ammunition and fuel, when each one in your formation is hitting something or the other, when you can see fire breaking out on the ground, it is difficult to hold back. When you are in the heat of the battle and are on top of the fight, how can you back out while you still have ammo and fuel? Ask anyone in any kind of fight and you will get the same answer.
No one can premeditate an ‘act of bravery’ or go out to earn a Vir Chakra. It happens in the heat of battle!
Amritsar
At first light on 4 December, the squadrons were launched into the war. I flew three missions into Pakistan that day. On the 5th I made an early morning sortie and on return to the Ops Room heard San Ldr Fernandez report the sighting of a large Pak artillery battery north of Lahore. This was conveyed to the Army who desired an attack on this target. I detailed myself to lead four aircraft into the attack. On the way to the aeroplanes I had another idea. These big guns are usually extremely well camouflaged and pinpointing them from the air can sometimes lead to a waste of valuable time amidst heavy fire from below. So I asked Ferdy to lead and take us right to the target; in a well knit team such changes are effected with perfect ease and understanding.
On sighting the target we went into the attack. Each one of us hit something or the other of value in the first pass itself. We were well loaded with rockets and there seemed to be no reason to stop hitting
The attack on 3 December, at Amritsar started with a visit by four Mirages. But the damage, surprisingly and luckily, was not much. There was no warning at all. An AN 12 had just taken off. And then it started, an attack a minute. They seem to have come over Raja Sansi airfield. They made four or five craters. from the beginning of the runway to about 600 m. By the time the ack acks opened up, they were gone. There were a few Gnats airborne doing routine flying. They were told to stay out of the range of the ack acks. When the guns stopped firing, they came down safely. The AN 12 which was to go to Chandigarh was diverted to Palam.
A call came from AOC Ambala, “Could TACDE start operations?” Yes, of course. This is what TACDE
was getting ready for! San Ldr Jog asked for eight Sukhois and eight Migs by 2200 hrs. Within the hour the runway was repaired. But the AOC-in-C WAC decided that the attack should be launched from Adampur.
The return courtesy started by midnight. Sukhois paid two visits to Chander, close to the border. The next morning’s raiders saw the runway being repaired, so it must have been hit at night. Migs bombed Shorkot (Rafiq) at a distance of about 200 km from Amritsar, deep in Pakistan, north-east of Okara. Each Mig carried two bombs of 500 kg each. Migs as well as Sukhois visited Risalwala, the base close to Lyallpur, about 180 km from Amritsar. They also attacked Gujarat, Murid (near Sialkot) and Chakjhumra, the last being southeast of the big complex at Sargodha. Navigation was mainly by DR (Dead Reckoning) at low level. Zero on the altimeter at high speed meant a height of around 150 to 200 m. And it was accurate flying through check-points. John Fricker’s reference to “Spiders” in an article in the International Defence Review of May 1975 confirms the accuracy of the night operations by the IAF, which are attributed to the use of “Moss” a Russian airborne warning and control system (AWACS) aircraft. Russia thereby gets the credit for advanced electronic technology-of which we had no benefit in 1971.
In this context, another compliment paid unwittingly to the accuracy of bombing and gunnery by the Indian pilots may be quoted here, although it was not to a TACDE pilot. It was the experience of another Sukhoi pilot, San Ldr D. S. Jafa, who had to eject in Pakistan and was taken prisoner. In captivity he was interrogated not only by Pakistani, officers but also by an American officer, Brig Gen Charles E. Yeager. He was eager to know what was the mechanism used by the Indian pilots flying the Sukhoi fighter-bomber which enabled them to hit targets deep in Pakistan, time and again, with unerring accuracy, flying singly or in formation, at low altitude, day or night. Jafa said there was a magnetic compass and a clock and nothing more. The questioning went on and on. Jafa stuck to his statement. Both parties were losing patience. Ultimately, according to report, Jafa retorted, “The only other aid our pilots have, in addition to the magnetic compass and a clock is Eyeballs Mark II installed in an Indian skull!”
The blackout at the Amritsar airfield was not, nor could it be, as strict as in some other airfields. There were so many takeoffs and landings that partial lighting was necessary for short periods.
With one lane of the runway serviceable, Dhiman and Doraiswamy took off in their Sukhois. Immediately after that a PAF Canberra came and dropped bombs.
Early on the morning of 4 December, in very poor visibility due to fog, four Starfighters attacked Amritsar with guns. Again there was no time for air-raid warning reaction. But there was no further damage to the runway.
On the night of 4th Dhiman did three sorties in a Sukhoi, two over Sargodha and one over Lahore. Approaches to the Sargodha complex were not considered difficult by our pilots. It is situated across the river Chenab with the low Kirana Hills, rising to a height of 1000-1500 ft to the south-east. The runway was not camouflaged; it was shiny and easy to pick out. The ack-ack was formidable; for the first pass it would be random firing but thereafter the firing would be better aimed and concentrated. The major
problem for our pilots was the inadvisability to use the after-burner because it gives away one’s position too easily. And without it the result is a comparative lack of power. More difficult to approach was Chander although it is so close to the border, since there are no distinctive features and hardly any landmarks in it vicinity.
There was no loss at all during the night operations in the first three or four nights. However, TACDE’s night operations had to be cut back because Canberra bombers were also operating at night and block timings had to be given to both to synchronise their operations. The fact that the real base of TACDE was Ambala created some difficulties. For convenience of operation as well as accommodation they were provided with all the facilities necessary at Amritsar. But often they had to land at Adampur. This sort of flexibility is an advantage at times but it also creates problems. For instance, there may be shortage of manpower for quick refuelling and recharging of air and oxygen bottles. This happened to other, squadrons as well when they were moved around in detachments at short notice. Some of the problems were due to the depletion of manpower from the Forward Base Support Units. (FBSUs) of regular stations and reinforcements from training schools of men not fully conversant with operational duties. But inspite of all these difficulties TACDE’s contribution to operations was considerable.
On the 5th or 6th December, evening, a PAF B 57 came for a raid over Amritsar and was shot down, by our ack-ack. On the 7th morning two F 104 Starfighters came of which one was shot down. The pilot ejected and landed in the neighbouring village. A jeep was sent out immediately to retrieve him. He seemed to be an experienced pailot who was earlier an instructor in Iraq. He was extremeley distrustful of the medical aid he was offered-which he needed-and was sent to Delhi the same night. The first loss from TACDE was Flt Lt Kadam in a day raid over Risalwala.
In day duties, Sukhois fitted with special cameras did a lot of photo-recce trips. TACDE was used for close support as well, specially when instructions came for increased air support for Chhamb. A change of role though is not always conducive to maximum efficiency. For instance, two Mystere squadrons which were trained for counter air and interdiction did well from 3 to 6 December. Then they were switched over to close support of the Army, particularly at Chhamb. The squadrons had to move away from their permanent bases which made maintenance difficult. Besides they were not trained to work with TACs and FACs and this caused some confusion and loss of efficiency.
Based at Amritsar was another Sukhoi squadron-No. 32 commanded by Wg Cdr Harcharan Singh Mangat. On the morning of 4 December, they went into action with a raid on Shorkot, claiming one Mirage, a couple of B 57s and a couple of Sabres on the ground. They also tackled the Sargodha complex later. They shot up railway marshalling yards and goods trains carrying war-supplies. They also did a lot of photo-reconnaissance work. In the process, Wg Cdr Mangat’s aircraft was badly damaged by ground fire. Instead of abandoning the aircraft and ejecting, he took the risk of flying back to base. After a week, they were required to give assistance to the Army in the Chhamb and Shakargarh sectors.
In the same Sukhoi squadron there were youngsters such as Arun Sathaye who had done his solo on Sukhois only on 2 December 1971. His second solo, night flying, was scheduled for the 3rd evening.
Location 4122
Pakistan’s first air-strike started when the briefing going on. The squadron on that day was at Ambala. A Pakistani B 57 bombed Ambala that evening but there was hardly any damage. On 4th morning, the squadron moved to Amritsar and from there attacked Shorkot, deep in Pakistan, at 1000 hrs.At their first pass there was no opposition but at their second, the ack-ack guns opened up. Sathaye hit a Canberra B 57 on the ground. The CO of the squadron, Wg Cdr Mangat, took the check-photo. Young Arun Sathaye earned his Vir Chakra on his third solo flight on Sukhois.
Further south in the Ferozepur sub-sector, is the Hussainiwala Bridge over the Sutlej. Even before the hostilities started, a company of soldiers was deployed at the bridge on the west bank of the river. As the war clouds gathered, the strength was built up to one battalion with one field regiment, and a squadron of cavalry was earmarked for going to the west bank. 15 Punjab was there, a fine unit which earned praise even from the Pakistanis. On 3 December, by 1830 hrs an intense artillery barrage started. The Co, Col Shastri, was attending a party at this time. Panic ensued. By 0300 hrs the next morning, the bridge was demolished with some of our troops still fighting on the west bank of the river. The Air Force was called up to help and we managed a massive retaliation during the day, that is on 4 December. About two dozen sorties were flown by Sukhois from Halwara in that confined area which enabled our troops to withdraw across the river by nightfall. The Air Force knocked out several enemy tanks. Maj Gen Freemantle, commanding 7 Division was a good and conscientious man, “living, working, fighting in Spartan conditions”, but he was not effective or successful in this area. “He was sitting too far away to know what was really happening,” was the feeling of the TAC commander.
The Punjab Border
IN PUNJAB SOUTH of the Shakargarh bulge, the territory was under Lt Gen N.C. Rawlley, commanding 11 Corps with 7 and 15 Divisions and the Foxtrot Sector. The border extends about 700 km from the Pathankot-Gurdaspur area, along the river Ravi for some distance, through Ranian, Hussainiwala, sometimes just east of the river Sutlej, through Suleimanke and, Fazilka to Rajasthan.
Fazilka and Suleimanke
Dera Baba Nanak
86 Infantry Brigade under Brig Gaurishankar along with one armoured regiment and some artillery was deployed at the Dera Baba Nanak sector. There was a bridge across the Ravi. It was a Pakistani enclave to the east of the Ravi that the Brigadier was directed to eliminate. The Pakistani soldiers were extremely well-entrenched in concrete bunkers, pill boxes, with machine-gun emplacements and observation towers. Since a head-on frontal attack would have meant a lot of casualties, he adopted the strategy of attacking from the flank along the line of the bunkers. The fighting was tough but our troops succeeded and then they blew up the bridge from our side. This offensive took place from 5 to 7 December. We lost the Dharm enclave though, to the west of the river, on the very first evening of the fighting.
No. 6 TAC under Gp Capt Gajjar, which in peace time was in Leh with 15 Corps, was moved in October, 1971 to Jalandhar to 11 Corps and their operational location was Amritsar. The TAC took part in the Dera Baba Nanak as well as Hussainiwala operations further south. The TAC commander was all praise for the army officers who led the attack on Pakistani positions at Dera Baba Nanak and the men who carried the day. They were fearless and bold. Of the aircraft that were used in close support, two were lost to ground fire. This can possibly be attributed to over-enthusiasm; if they had limited themselves to fewer passes per sortie, they may have lived to fight another day. The same thing happened to some of our overly keen Hunter boys in East Pakistan.
In the southern part of the border under Western Command is Fazilka area and Suleimanke. It is true that 11 Corps was spread out to defend about 700 km of border; and the directive from Army HQ was not to be on the offensive till expressly told to be so. Still, Lt Gen Rawlley was “so defence-oriented that under his direction nearly 160 bridges were prepared for demolition some deep in our territory”* and many were actually demolished. At Suleimanke there was a very good bridge for heavy traffic. Also Pakistan had the advantage of possessing enclaves of a fair size east of the Sutlej in this area. Thus, undertaking an offensive thrust was not difficult at all for them. It was the responsiblility of the garrison at Fazilka to guard against this possibility. Sukhois from Halwara did photo reconnaissance of the area.
The first three days of December, 1971, there was much movement of tanks and vehicles on the Pakistani side in this forward area. At the same time loud, music was played by their Border Posts obviously to distract from the noise of the movements. On 3 December, punctually by 1830 hrs, the attack started. Some of our men retreated. Many were taken prisoner, bridges were blown up by our Army. The Pakistanis occupied Mauzzim to the north of Fazilka, Pakka to the south-west and came right up to the Sabuna Drain in our territory. The Brigade Commander, Brig S.S. Choudhry, wanted to fall back even further. According to Lt Gen Candeth, Lt Gen Rawlley was prepared to give up Suleimanke on the Sutlej and move his troops further to the east to take up a defensive stand in the area of the Eastern and Bikaner Canals. This was totally unacceptable to General Candeth. On the evening of 4 December, he countermanded General Rawlley’s orders to his troops to abandon Suleimanke and insisted that they stand up to any further Pakistani attack that may materialise. He argued that the most the Pakistanis could bring up against our troops at anyone time was a brigade. We too had a brigade and if we did not
Hussainiwala
Command) took part each night for three successive nights-on 3rd, 4th and 5th December. Pak armour was found concealed under camouflage nets along the Eastern Siddiqui a Canal. It was attacked from the air and much of it destroyed. However, the occupation of Indian enclaves by Pakistanis in the Suleimanke area enabled Pak gunners to use seven observation towers that had been built by the Indian Army Engineers to direct Pak artillery fire against Indian targets. Mysteres attacked and destroyed these towers. R/Ps (Rocket Projectiles) from Mystere belly launchers proved to be potent weapons when fired in salvos. Shri Pushpinder Singh has paid a fitting tribute to the Mystere IVAS:
Providing close support to troops in the Foxtrot Sector, more than 300 sorties were flown by day concentrating on Pak armour, dumps and lines of communication in the area of Fort Abbas, Bhawalnagar and Haveli. Intelligence had reported about 300 tanks of the Pak Armoured Division concentrating between Suleimanke, Haveli and Amruka and Mysteres flying lo-lo were subjected to heavy anti-aircraft fire as they sought to destroy the armoured threat, many aircraft being recovered with extensive damage in the wings and the fuselage opposite the 67 Infantry Brigade at Fazilka, Mysteres continously attacked the wooded area around Haveli and succeeded in immobilising Pak armour and shooting up convoys and rail tankers. *
advance, we could at least stand our ground and hold on to our positions. However, he did order the brigade to be reinforced and replaced Brig Chaudhry. In the event, that is what our ground forces didthey held their positions with the support of the Air Force: mainly Sukhois from Halwara and Mysteres from Sirsa. As elsewhere, so at Suleimanke, apart from close support, the Air Force struck at the Pakistanis in their own territory and prevented them from moving in reinforcements, specially of armour into the battle area. In Lt Gen Candeth’s opinion, this blunted the Pakistani assault.
The Air Force, though, has reason to be grateful to Lt Gen Rawlley according to Gp Capt J.C. Sen Gupta, the commander of 1 TAC: he recognised and valued the help given by the Air Force. HQ 11 Corps moved from Jalandhar to Kot Kapura south of Faridkot in mid-November 1971. The HQ split into two, one taking up position at Amritsar under General Gehlot. General Rawlley operated from both places, moving back and forth by air. So No. 1 TAC also split into two with a Wing Commander alongside Lt Gen Gehlot while Gp Capt Sen Gupta was at Kot Kapura with Gen Rawlley. The TAC had available to it Mysteres from Nos. 3 and 31 Squadrons from Sirsa in Haryana, Sukhois from Halwara and Mig 21s and Sukhois from Adampur and Amritsar in Punjab and some Hunters from Nal near Bikaner in Rajasthan. No. 7 Squadron with their Hunters were switched over from the eastern theatre to the west and they operated from Nal.
The task of 11 Corps was to defend VAs (Vital Areas) and VPs (Vital Points) along its front. Of the latter, the most critical was the bit of territory around the Suleimanke Head-works west of Fazilka. The Pak forces had moved up close to the border with armour along the Eastern Siddiquia Canal and had artillery lined up alongside. A breakthrough at Fazilka would have enabled Pak armour to pour into Indian territory. Three bridges had already been constructed by Pak Army Engineers over the Sutlej and the canals in their own territory to facilitate the rapid deployment of armour through Fazilka bridgehead when won. Likewise, long-range artillery could cover Pak advance deep into Indian territory.
As described earlier, on the night of 3 December, the Indian defence at Suleimanke was overwhelmed by concentrated Pak forces. Though Lt Gen Rawlley and presumably Western Command and Army HQ had foreseen the possibility of localised gains by Pakistan, 11 Corps was ordered to make good the loss at Suleimanke immediately. This it found difficult to do, for its. Divisions were spread out over a vast front and there were hardly any reserves that could be brought in to give the Indian forces superiority of numbers at Suleimanke. It was here that the IAF stepped into the breach, mounting heavy and continuous attacks on Pak forces at Suleimanke and in the interior, at the rear of the enemy forces so that they could not bring in reinforcements. The Air Force provided the counter-force.
The Indian air attacks forced the Pakistanis to dig in, inhibiting further moment forward. The Air Force also mounted tactical reconnaissance missions along the front with particular attention to roads and railways. Mysteres destroyed a train with about fifty tanks between Okara and Montgomery. Other trains carrying tanks and fuel were shot up and destroyed at Chistian Mandi on 5 December. Likewise attacks by Mysteres and Sukhois on Changa Manga forest set fuel dumps ablaze. This area was also bombed at night by Canberras as well as AN 125. At Changa Manga six AN 12s from Bareilly (Central Air Command) took part each night for three successive nights-on 3rd, 4th and 5th December. Pak armour was found
Railway yards at Pak Pattan and Dunga Bunga were also attacked.
After the fighting began, Lt Gen Rawlley did try to organise some offensive forays into Pakistan territory. In fact none were mounted as Indian commanders appeared to be a bit nervous of possible PAF attacks. The PAF, however, hardly operated in the area. Apart from the initial preemptive bombing of Faridkot near the Corps HQ and a few attacks on Ferozepur, the PAF was remarkably inactive and gave no support to its forces at Suleimanke.
Around 11/12 December, Lt Gen T.N. Raina commanding 2 Corps moved in from the eastern theatre. He set up his Headquarters at Kot Kapura and took Fazilka and all territory south of it in his charge. Lt Gen Rawlley then moved up to Amritsar with 11 Corps, his area of responsibility reduced by haif. Since the Pak 1st Armoured Division was waiting to exploit a possible breakthrough at Fazilka, the Indian Armoured Division was held in reserve near Faridkot to deal with it. It was not called in because the IAF prevented the Pak breakthrough and immobilised the Pak 1st Armoured Division. The IAF suffered heavy losses in this sector specially Mysteres which were excellent for ground attack but had limited capability as a fighter aircraft.
Most of the Air Force’s action was preplanned. There was very little in the way of immediate air support because only a small segment of 11 Corps forces were actually engaged in battle-most of the Corps forces were strung out along the lengthy border. The loss of territory in the area of responsibility of Lt Gen Rawlley and 11 Corps were at Kassowala, Hussainiwala and some area near Fazilka and the gains were at Dera Baba Nanak, Sehjra and Mamdot bulges.
location 4220
its battle plans. This attitude was fostered by Lt Gen Prem Bhagat Vr C, VC during his command of the Corps. I saw this for myself when in May 1970 at Prem’s invitation, I attended a Corps exercise in Punjab that he called Midsummer Madness. Navin Rawlley continued that line of thought. He treated OC TAC as the equivalent of a brigade commander and gave him Brigadier’s (equivalent to Air Commandore) quarters at Jalandhar even though the OC was a Group Captain (equivalent to a Colonel). This acceptance of the Air Force as a necessary and useful partner permeated right through the Corps and conditioned its action in battle.
If anything, the need for air support was so deeply felt that army commanders were reluctant to venture out of their defensive positions unless they could be assured of defence against the PAF and given air support by day and night. The TAC was able to reassure them of air cover by day, but since it could not do so at night, army commanders undertook no forays into enemy territory by night. Indeed, they practised defence in its most static form, without taking advange of the IAF’s air superiority in the area and the damage inflicted by the IAF on Pak armour and to some extent on their artillery. In this they were possibly influenced by directives from Army HQ and perhaps the uncertainty of reinforcements being available if they ran into difficulties. Holding the Indian Armoured Division at Faridkot in reserve to meet the Pak Armoured Division in the event of the latter’s breakthrough, into Indian teritory meant that a large force of Indian armour could not be counted upon to support 11, Corps. Altogether the Army’s policy seems to have been to play safe, and not carry the war into Pakistan in the area opposite 11 Corps despite the terrain being favourable for such action.
Army HQ was most reticent in discussing its plans in detail, with Air HQ, before or during the war. While the broad scope of its defensive arrangements were made known, there was no discussion of contingency plans either in the event of our suffering reverses or of a situation developing where we could take the offensive. This was a failing perhaps of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, which should have gone into these possibilities in some detail as part of its contingency planning. Failing to exploit favourable situations is in balance, as reprehensible as not being able to fight effectively.
A notable feature of the operations on this front was the absence of the PAF in support of its land forces, even though Shorkot (Raffiqui), Risalwala and Montgomery were close to the front. This could have been due to the counter air operations of TACDE, Canberras and AN 125 at night and Mysteres, Hunters and Sukhois by day.
I asked General Candeth about the possible repercussions of a Pakistani breakthrough at Suleimanke to Fazilka and beyond. In the meetings of the Chiefs of Staff during the war the possibility had been considered of the Pakistanis coming through with their Armoured Division, in which case they might move towards Bhatinda and then up north, behind Fardikot and Ferozepur, up the Beas river. In his opinion, the likelihood of the Pakistanis succeeding in such a venture was remote. Our Armoured Division had been positioned in the Faridkot-kot Kapura area to counter such a threat, which it could have done quite effectively.
The Pakistanis having been held at Suleimanke why, I asked, did our forces not go on the offensive
The Pakistanis having been held at Suleimanke why, I asked, did our forces not go on the offensive with the aid of our Armoured Division? Why was that potent strike force allowed to stand idle when it could have been carrying the war into Pak territory? The answer to these questions was that the Vijayanta Tank, the principal weapon of our Armoured Division, was not suitable for mobile operations in sandy terrain. Its guns and sighting system were excellent but the engine and tracks gave trouble. The former because, when on the move, the oil, fuel and air filters were soon clogged with sand and dust and the tracks wore out rather quickly. In fact, at the end of one exercise only eight tanks were left serviceable out of a Division strength of nearly 200. Obviously such a force was unsuited for mobile warfare. It could, however, give a very good account of itself in a defensive role of the kind envisaged in 1971. In any case, the Armoured Division was a part of the Army HQ reserve and was not under Western Command.
I also asked General Candeth if the air attacks that had been mounted in the Changa Manga forest area by day and by night were of any use at all. This had been done at the Army’s behest, based on reports to the effect that the Pak Armoured Division was assembling in that area. If that were true then it constitituted a major threat if they succeeded in entering our territory in the Fazilka sector. He could give no factual information about the damage done by the Air Force in its attacks on the forest, but he said that they could reasonably be expected to produce some positive results for the Pakistanis were known to have built up a supply base there, including an Ordnance Depot holding quantities of fuel, ammunition and other military stores. Given the intensity of air attacks and the weight of bombs, rockets and heavy calibre ammunition expended, it was likely that some damage was done and that Pakistan’s ability to fight was reduced although there may be a difference of opinion regarding the extent of the damage. This could be the reason why they made no major breakthrough along the western border.
Air Interdiction
I enquired of General Candeth about the movement of Pak armour by rail between Sukkur and Montgomery. Our aircraft had intercepted several trainloads of tanks, which had been shot up and immobilised. The railway, starting from Sukkur and going virtually up to Sialkot, runs practically parallel to the border and it is essential for the support of their armour and forces. This railway line was put out of use by our attacks. It is almost certain that hardly any traffic moved between Sukkur to Sialkot through Montgomery, Okara, Lahore, Wazirabad. What, in the General’s opinion, was their likely destruction and what effect did their destruction or immobilisation have on the war? The General was unable to give any definite information on the subject because the intelligence coming in to him was rather poor. He had to base his assessment of the damage done to Pak armour on whatever information the Air Force was able to bring back. It was clear throughout the operation that the Air Force was effective in largely stopping Pak reinforcements from reaching the front line and in reducing its movement of weapons and supplies all along the front. Apart from providing close air support to our ground forces, functioning in its classic role
Pak assaults and except for the loss of some territory at a few places (and gaining it elsewhere) preserved the integrity of our western border with Pakistan.
Intelligence
Regarding our intelligence services, the opinion expressed by General Candeth was that they just did not know what was going on in Pakistan. According to Intelligence reports 7 Division of the Pakistan Army was in the Haji Pir Pass, at Sailkot, at Kharian in Chhamb and in the Changa Manga forest! Intelligence threw its net wide and found 7 Division just about everywhere. Little credence could be given to such information. Instead, our forces had to fight the Pakistanis wherever they appeared with little idea of the weight and capability of the opposing forces. A central intelligence agency with a genuine and intimate participation by the military is a great necessity, specially where intelligence of military value is required. The agents must also have, or be given, some training and be able to identify military formations. In central processing, the military knowledge of agents at this time was almost nil.
Chandigarh
Chandigarh was, and still is, our transport base in the northwest, commanded in 1971 by Air Cmde E. Dhatigara KC. That is where our AN 125 were normally based. In preparedness for all eventualities, these AN 12s helped the squadrons to move to their appointed bases. Before the war, as well as during the war, it was the home of the rear supply organisation which flew missions to stations in Ladakh, specially in the Nubra valiey north of Thoise. The bombing of Skardu on the last day of the war was staged from Chandigarh. Also, Chandigarh had an elaborate system of missiles to protect the entire area, both air bases and army installations. These missiles, though not computerised at that time, were an effective deterrent.
Delhi. In July they started operating from their detachment bases, one flight from Jodhpur and one from Sirsa. First line servicing was at the detachment bases, further servicing at Hindon. Living conditions at Jodhpur, being a much older station, were good; there were messes for officers and men. At Sirsa there were only underground rooms with tent-sheets on top for camouflage. The ORP room for pilots was one such room. The jobs for the Migs were air defence and cover for strike forces of Nos. 3 and 31 Mystere Squadron and HF 24s or Maruts. There were Maruts also at Uttarlai. The Migs flew CAPs when directed to do so by the Signals Units(SU) and the ADDC (Air Defence Direction Centre) at Barnala. There was an SU at Sirsa as well and it was good to fly CAPs after the two SUS checked with each other. Even before the war broke out there were a number of scrambles and CAPs were flown.
To begin with, the evening of 3 December 1971 was no different from any others. The station was ready but fairly relaxed. Some of the off-duty personnel had gone to the movies. Sirsa was not attacked that evening but everyone was immediately put on the alert. Wg Cdr K.K. Malik was the base commander. Wg Cdr K.C. Sawardekar was the Mig squadron commander. The flight commanders were San Ldrs K.C. Sekhar and U.V. Lagad.
On 4th morning, a message was intercepted that the Pak Army had attacked some Indian tanks west of Ferozepur and they were calling the PAF to come and finish the job. Four of our aircraft were scrambled, led by the CO. It proved to be a wild goose chase, they did not meet any PAF. A few offensive sweeps were flown to draw the PAF out but they evoked no response. The Migs were fully armed with two K 13 air-to-air missiles, rockets, two 500 kg bombs each and a gun. But the guns were newly fitted and not all the pilots were fully trained in their use.
There was a scramble at 2000 hrs that evening. San Ldr Lagad and Fg Offr Krishnan took off. Flt Lts Gulati and Harish Sinhji took their places on the ORP. A Canberra came over the base with its lights off. Obviously it was not ours. But the ADDC said, “Guns tight”, perhaps not wanting to give away our position at the moment. However, Gulati noticed a rocket, or a device like a Verey light, being fired from the ground just outside the airfield. It seemed that somebody was guiding the Canberra. It came to light later that this had happened near some other airfields also but in the search conducted in that area no incriminating evidence was found. The Canberra flew north-south and bombed the runway. Part of the runway was hit but most of the bombs fell outside it. It was enough though to make the runway unserviceable for the night. Lagad and Krishnan had to be diverted to Hindon to land.
The ADDC asked the ack-ack to open up after the bombing but the Canberra got away. The bombs had time-delayed fuses and kept on exploding at intervals till dawn delaying clearance and repair work.
Flt Lt Harish Sinhji of No. 29 squadron who did not get a chance for a sortie on 4 December, was on ORP duty with Flt Lt Dawar when a scramble was called at 1430 hrs the next day. Dawar had a little trouble starting up so Sinhji did a couple of circuits till Dawar was airborne. They were directed to go along the border and try to draw out the PAF. The PAF refused to be drawn out so the mission was changed to “search and strike opportunity targets” and they were told to go towards Suleimanke Headworks. After that the Signal Unit’s R/T was silent. Sinhji took it for granted that it was a safety
Haryana
Sirsa
Sirsa was another of our relatively new bases close to the western border in Haryana, not far from Hissar, with Punjab to the north and Rajasthan to the south. On 19 July 1971 when Yahya Khan made his warlike public declaration to the Financial Times of London: “I shall declare war, let the world take note,” etc., it was time for our preparations to go ahead and they did. No. 29 Mig Squadron was based at Hindon near Delhi. In July they started operating from their detachment bases, one flight from Jodhpur and one from Sirsa. First line servicing was at the detachment bases, further servicing at Hindon. Living conditions at
Location Ann
facing west. Sinhji followed. But there was an explosion and a big jolt and he found that his aircraft was on its back. Ground fire had hit the hydraulic pipe line and the controls were jammed. There was a tearing, sound. He pressed the rudder manually. The aircraft levelled out and then went into a shallow dive. The ground was about 800 m below. It was over Haveli and there was heavy ack-ack fire. Sinhji delayed ejection. He could see the leader, Dawar at a distance-a speck in the sky going southwards. He called over the R/T, “Dawar, I am ejecting,” not realising that the R/T had failed. He survived but was taken prisonerof-war. (See Appendix B for his experience and the attempted escape).
San Ldr A.V. Kamat in his Marut was hit by ack-ack near Hyderabad, Sind, and had to eject. He was too low thus in ejecting he broke both his legs. He was also taken prisoner and was looked after in Pakistan.
Flt Lt Menon, a Mystere pilot, was luckier he and his, aircraft were hit by small arms fire. He started bleeding profusely and began to lose consciousness and control of his aircraft. Wg Cdr Sawardekar was escorting him in a Mig and instantly realised what was happening-that Menon was sinking into, unconsciousness and was unable to think or act for himself any more. Sawardekar began to yell instructions to Menon over the R/T trying desperately to hold his attention and to make him use whatever remaining energy he had. He succeeded. Menon just managed to land back at the base, shepherded by the senior man, and sank into oblivion. He was rescued and nursed back to life, thanks to Sawardekar.
March 1971, when it was time to make contingency plans, the study was taken out and became a guide to sensible postings. By September most of the pilots were posted to the units with which they were to fly but not Jasjit Singh and Jafa who were in staff jobs. The urge in both these men was the same, not to be called “yellow”, they wanted to prove themselves. The SASO at WAC, Air Vice Mshl Subaya as well as the AOP (Air Officer Personnel) Air Mshl Teja Singh Virk objected to Jasjit Singh being posted to a squadron on the ground that he knew too much. If by any chance he became a POW, he would be a security risk. He did not accept this and went to see the AOC-in-C WAC, Air Mshl M.M. Engineer, and he came to me. He persuaded us and finally got his posting to No. 3 Squadron, then at Hindon. He had great faith in Mysteres. I sympathise. A little bit of my heart also has been left permanently with this beautiful aircraft which I had tested in October 1954.
The Mystere IV A originally had instrumentation for night bombing as well but that was never used, and things that are not used fall into disuetude and finally they tend to disappear. Serviceability bad gone down, but by November it improved tremendously, up to 100 per cent. From Hindon one flight of Mysteres was sent to Sirsa and Jasjit went with it. But towards the end of November, he was back at Hindon to practice night attacks at Tilpat Range. On the evening of 3 December, they were leaving for the range when the war started. Two Mysteres were sent back to Sirsa but Jasjit was not given an aircraft to fly back. Undeterred, on the evening of 4 December, he cadged a lift in a hired truck that was carrying ammunitions and spares to Sirsa. They travelled through the blackout, in moonlight, at a speed of 30 kmph and reached Sirsa the next morning. Sirsa being a small base, there were not enough hardcover pens for all the aircraft, so some were put under camouflage nets, protected by sandbags. He came through the war unscathed, operating from Sirsa, having acquitted himself very well.
The Mystere losses from Sirsa were San Ldr J.D. Kumar killed, Sqn Ldr Anukul ejected and Flt Lt Das, whose engine flamed out, also ejected. Wg Cdr Coelho, OC No.7 Squadron (Hunters) posted at Nal (Bikaner) was shot down in the Haveli area. He had to eject and was taken POW as was Flt Lt Aditya Vikram Pethia also from Nal.
The citizens of Haryana became quite emotionally involved in the war. In Hissar, for instance, they offered pilots of the Air Force an Ambassador car for shooting down a Mirage. The Sabre, however, rated only a motor-cycle!
The exploits of the Mysteres based at Sirsa in close support of 11 Corps in the battles in the Fazilka and Suleimanke areas and their interdiction missions on Pak railway trains carrying war material as directed by 1 TAC have already been related in detail. The credit for this efficiency, dedication and team work belongs to the entire squadron, led ably by the squadron commanders and the flight commanders. One name however, deserves to be singled out-San Ldr Jasjit Singh (now Air Commodore). Apart from San Ldr D.S. Jafa who insisted on going back to his squadron (and his squadron commander had been asking for him), Jasjit was another such man. Originally a Mystere pilot but with one thing or another, he had been away from squadron flying for ten years. He was mainly on Staff jobs and during the 1965 war he was an instructor in Iraq. He converted to Migs in 1969. Then he was in the P Staff. In 1965 wartime postings for pilots were done in a somewhat ad hoc fashion-the war came so suddenly-in 1971 we had enough warning and preparation time to improve upon this. In 1970, Jasjit was in the directorate headed by Air Cmde Dani, which worked on the Manpower Augmentation plan. It consisted of compiling the biodata of all the pilots so that their postings could be done judiciously. A prime requirement was that they should have enough experience of flying particular types of aircraft. This was to ensure that they should be entirely familiar and happy with the aircraft so that the risk factor, particularly when fighting, was reduced to the minimum. Moreover, this way would get the best and the most out of them. This study was ready, marked “Top Secret”, and had been put in cold storage. After the crackdown in East Pakistan in March 1971, when it was time to make contingency plans, the study was taken out and became a guide to sensible postings. By September most of the pilots were posted to the units with which they were to fly but not
*Maj Gen Sukhwant Singh, Defence of the Western Border, Vikas, New Delhi 1981, p. 136.
*Pushpinder Singh, Aircraft of the Indian Air Force 1933-73, English Book Store, New Delhi 1974, p. 110.
South-Western Sector
COMMAND AND CONTROL OF the Air Force in the border states of Rajasthan and Gujarat presented a problem. For air operations they were within the area of responsibility of Western Air Command, but the Army’s Southern Command, based at Pune, was responsible for their defence on the ground. Thus the AOC-in-C, WAC, had to deal with two Army Commanders: Western Command for the States of Kashmir and Punjab and Southern Command for Rajasthan and Gujarat. Since the area of prime importance in any war was likely to be that of Western Command it was but natural that the AOC-in-C Western Air Command should devote most of his attention to that part of the border, while a deputy looked after Rajasthan and Gujarat. An AOC Rajasthan was therefore, appointed with his Headquarters at Jaipur, alongside the Advance HQ of Southern Command. He was made responsible for both air defence and support of the Army. In this manner, while the AOC-in-C, Western Air Command, held overall charge of the entire western border, detailed control of operational activity in the Rajasthan and Gujarat sectors was delegated to an AOC subordinate to him. Learning from the experiences of the 1965 war, an independent South-Western Air Command should have been set up when the command boundaries and operational priorities were revised in 1969, but the need for it was over-looked, resulting in a somewhat makeshift arrangement in 1971. The independent South Western Air Command was finally created in 1981.
Jodhpur could be converted into a fullfledged operational base. The construction of the new airfields and reorganisation of Jodhpur was completed by early 1970.
Jaisalmer and Uttarlai were meant to be forward airfields, to be supported from Jodhpur and used only in the event of war. No operational units were to be permanently based on these airfields, which were to be in the charge of a small Care and Maintenance Unit consisting of a Flight Lieutenant and a dozen or so men. For transport, each of the C & M units had a Jeep and a 3-ton truck. Accommodation was in hutments and, at Jaisalmer, the water source was 15 km away. No arrangements existed for the storage of fuel or ammunition and explosives, nor did they have any service inter-communication facilities, being linked to Jodhpur and beyond by a not too reliable land line civil telephone. They had no R/T equipment not even for flying control. Neither Uttarlai nor Jaisalmer were ready to fight any kind of war, even on the most limited scale, early in 1971.
Gen Yahya Khan helped to make good their deficiencies. His increasingly bellicose pronouncements made it necessary to review the preparedness of the Air Force for war. In the course of this review, forward airfields were subjected to detailed studies. Jaisalmer was visited by Wg Cdr M.S. Bawa, VM, then Chief Instructor at Armament Training Wing at Jamnagar. In due course, in the month of July, he visited both Jodhpur and Jaisalmer to take a measure of the problems that he would have to tackle in the event of forward airfields having to be activated. What he saw gave him no comfort for he realised that Jaisalmer was deficient in operational facilities except for the runway, some residential accommodation and a number of hard shelters for aircraft. Just about everything else would have to be brought in before any combat aircraft could use the forward airfield. The first and most essential requirement of course, was that of additional manpower and then the provision of communication, radio aids, transport, arrangement for ground defence, air defence and the like.
Towards the end of August, an incident occurred which brought home the importance of the Rajasthan sector and made us aware of the preparations that seemed to be in hand in Pakistan for mounting an offensive in the area. The incident involved the interception by the Border Security Force of a man on camel-back who was trying to cross over from India to Pakistan. The man and his camel were taken into custody in the belief that he was a smuggler, for the desert offered almost unlimited opportunity for the movement of contraband, especially gold. Amongst the camel rider’s possessions was an unused cake of soap which he had wrapped with care and tucked into his clothing. This seemed odd, to say the least, since the inhabitants of the desert are not reputed for their use of soap-if and when they did have a wash. On being closely examined, the cake of soap was found to have a hollow interior within which lay a slip of paper. When deciphered, it amounted to a report on the location and layout of the airfield of Jaisalmer. Further questioning uncovered a Pakistani espionage system that extended across Rajasthan and into the Punjab. The effect of these revelations was to speed up the preparation of forward airfields for war.
Wg Cdr Bawa took up the duties of Officer Commanding, Jaisalmer, on 10 September and set about getting the airfield ready for whatever the future might hold in store. To supplement the few men that he
The Indo-Pak War of 1965 revealed a basic weakness in our defence of the western border in the state of Rajasthan. Then there were no combat aircraft for air defence and support of ground operations. The only major military airfield in the state was at Jodhpur, and that was occupied by the Air Force’s Flying Training School.
In the course of the 1965 operations, some combat aircraft were moved to Jodhpur at short notice but they could do very little against night attacks by B 57 bombers: nor could they provide effective support at long range to the Army which, in any case, was rather thin on the ground. As a result, the Pakistani army was able to mount a successful thrust from the Naya Chor area, entering Indian territory at Munabao and Gadra Road. Jodhpur also suffered damage from Pakistani bombing.
Having learnt its lesson, the Air Force took up the construction of two new airfields-one at Uttarlai, near Barmer, opposite the area from which the Pakistani forces had entered India in 1965, and the other at Jaisalmer. The Flying School, was also moved to Dundigul, near Hyderabad in Andhra Pradesh, so that Jodhpur could be converted into a fullfledged operational base. The construction of the new airfields and reorganisation of Jodhpur was completed by early 1970.
Maintenance Commands, in order to give them some idea of what to expect in the event of war, and also to help the forward airfields to prepare for such an eventuality. The short periods that they spent on such duty affected the continuity of work at the forward airfields, but that disadvantage was more than offset by the parent units continuing to function normally and also because the families of the men concerned were not uprooted. Furthermore, the largest possible number of individuals from the non-combatant units were thus exposed to conditions at forward airfields, and so were mentally and physically prepared to support any operations that they might be required to undertake. While at the forward air fields, the officers and airmen were kept fully employed setting up storage facilities for fuel, ammunition and explosives, installing and activating radio and land-line communications, and generally providing the infrastructure required for operations.
Living conditions were difficult at Jaisalmer because of the lack of water. The local authorities pleaded their inability to supply more than a very limited quantity, which was barely able to maintain 100 or so men at the airfield. It became imperative, therefore, to find a source of water which would enable the manpower strength of the base to be increased. Without more water all other efforts were pointless. At Jaisalmer Air Cmde Sundaresan came to the rescue.
Sundaresan was a highly qualified technical officer who was then commanding a major aircraft repair and maintenance unit. Besides his technical qualifications, he was also a water-diviner, a power that he had earlier successfully demonstrated on several occasions. Arriving at Jaisalmer, he spent several days walking barefoot over the sands holding a Y-shaped tamarind twig in his hands. Finally, he located a spot on top of a sand dune where he said water would be found. Officers of the Military Engineering Service dismissed the notion and refused to have anything to do with boring a well at what seemed to them a most unlikely spot. The Rajasthan Government, however, was more cooperative. It supplied a drilling rig which, after an effort of several weeks, struck water at a depth of 905 feet. The water was of good quality and plentiful, enough to support the several hundred men who would have to man the airfield in war. This was towards the end of September, when the war cries of Yahya Khan were becoming louder and more frequent.
The next step was the positioning of aircraft at Jaisalmer. Two Hunters from the Armament Training Wing, Jamnagar arrived there on 15 October. Normally employed for the armament training of fresh pilots prior to their induction into front-line squadrons, in the hands of flying instructors the aircraft were ready at all time for operational tasks. For administrative convenience, the Hunters from ATW were designated as No. 122 squadron. The reason why only two aircraft were attached from Jamnagar to Jaisalmer was that the ATW still continued with its training programme and could not part with more aircraft, and yet it was essential that aircraft should operate from Jaisalmer in order to bring the ground organisation to an acceptable level of efficiency. Simultaneously with the arrival of the aircraft, the Army detailed a company of the Madras Regiment for the ground defence of Jaisalmer, though this unit was later replaced by an Infantry Battalion of the Territorial Army. By the third week of October, a troop of anti-aircraft guns also took up positions around the airfield. The air defence setup was completed by the arrival, soon after, of a
later replaced by an Infantry Battalion of the Territorial Army. By the third week of October, a troop of anti-aircraft guns also took up positions around the airfield. The air defence setup was completed by the arrival, soon after, of a mobile radar unit, which was essential for surveillance of the air space around the airfield and for recovery of aircraft operating over the desert.
At about the same time as the Air Force was building up the base at Jaisalmer, the Army moved 12 Infantry Division under Maj Gen R.F. Khambata into the Kishengarh area. Aircraft of No. 12 Air Observation Post Flight were thus available in addition to the two Hunters at Jaisalmer.
Activating the forward air bases at Jaisalmer and Uttarlai and raising a new HQ, the month of November was spent in knocking the Air Force in Rajasthan into shape. The process was given a sense of urgency by the developments that were taking place in East Pakistan. Each passing day seemed to bring the threat of war nearer, and this feeling reached its peak on 22 November, when a flight of four Gnats shot down three Pakistani Sabre aircraft over Indian territory at Boyra, a few miles north-east of Calcutta. The Pakistani aircraft had been engaged in beating up refugees from East Pakistan in Indian territory and such intrusions had been increasing. Formal protests had brought no response from the Pakistani authorities so direct action was taken. When three Sabres were shot down, Gen Yahya Khan declared that night at a banquet for a Chinese dignitary, that he might not be in Islamabad ten days hence for he could be away fighting a war. There is no evidence to the effect that the General took up arms in person, he was nevertheless true to his word for for almost exactly ten days later, on the evening of 3 December, the Pak Air Force and Army launched their offensive in the west with preemptive strikes on eight airfields and an intense artillery barrage on Indian positions in the Chhamb and Poonch areas. By then, thanks to the General’s warning, six Hunters had been moved from Jamnagar to Jaisalmer: two-seater trainers and four single-seater fighters. The aircraft being there helped to activate No. 14 CMU (Care and Maintenance Unit) at Jaisalmer.
Longewala
WG CDR BAWA at Jaisalmer learnt of the commencement of the Pakistani offensive within minutes of its taking place. The news came to him by way of a flash call at about 1800 hrs from Air Cmde Kanwar Singh, AOC Rajasthan Area, followed soon after by a message from HQ Western Air Command and the announcement over All India Radio. The station immediately went on war alert. The night was spent
t was thought, would strike with his bombers or stage commando attacks on the ground, or both. In the event, the Pakistanis did not show up either in the air or on the ground.
The following day, 4 December, while the two Hunter trainers stood by for air defence, the four single-seater Hunters attacked the airfields at Jacobabad and Rahimyar Khan, and provided close support sorties to 12 Infantry Division, which was expected to launch an offensive to capture Sakhirewala Khu and Islamgarh, enroute to Rahimyar Khan. That night, while 12 Infantry Division was looking northwards, the
command. It said that Pak forces had suffered 40 per cent casualties in men and material, and an SOS call was, sent out for close air support without which any advance was considered completely impossible. The Pakistani message was recorded by 12 Infantry Division:
DUSHMAN KI HAWAI FAUJ NE NAK ME DAM KAR DIYA HAI EK: HAW-AI JAHAZ JATA HAI AUR DOOSRA ATA HAI AUR BEESBEES MINUTE OOPER NACHTA HAI CHALIS FISADI FAUJ AUR SAMAN HALLAK AUR TABAH HO CHUKA HAI AGHE JANA TO KYA PEECHE MURRNA BHI MUSHKAL HO GAYA HAI JALDI HAWAI FAUJ MADAD KE LIYE BHEJO WARNA VAPAS MURNA NAMUMKIN HAI *
At the end of the day, the Air Force claimed the destruction of 15 tanks, one Armoured Recce vehicle and damage to the 23 other tanks in the Longewala area.
In addition to our Tac R sorties operating in the Rahimyar Khan area, they also attacked and damaged at least seven railway trains, carrying a large number of tanks, guns, armoured personnel carriers and troops. The success of the day’s air effort was acknowledged by the GOC 12 Infantry Division, Maj Gen R.F. Khambatta, who sent a message:
Pakistanis came into Indian territory from the west with a regiment of armour and a brigade strength of troops, crossing the border near a Border Security Force check-post. The vanguard of the force travelled cross-country till it hit the Ghotaru-Longewala road. Thereafter it drove on towards Ramgarh, ignoring the cutpost at Longewala which is a very small place on the caravan route popular with traders and smugglers. This movement was heard rather than seen by the company commander at Longewala, Maj Kuldip Singh Chandpuri, and reported to HQ 12 Infantry Division, who doubted its authenticity. However, a few kilometres short of Ramgarh, the column of tanks turned about, presumably because its rear echelon was falling behind. This proved to be fatal and possibly it changed the course of the war. Had the tanks carried on, they could have easily over-run Ramgarh which had no defences to speak of even though it was the principal supply base for 12 Infantry Division. From there, Jaisalmer lay only another 60 km ahead, again with weak ground defences. Pak intelligence apparently gave them a fair idea of Indian concentration at Kishengarh and Tanot. Had the Pak armoured thrust not been stopped at Longewala they could have been at Ramgarh, where they expected to replenish supplies, and Jaisalmer fairly quickly.
The return of the lead tanks towards Longewala and the noise of more tanks rolling in, brought another warning from the commander of the outpost to 12 Division. This time, the GOC tried to get through to the Air Force at Jaisalmer but was unable to do so for the telephone lines had been cutobviously by the mujahids of whom the camel rider was one. By early morning 5 December a radio link had been established between the GOC and the Base Commander at Jaisalmer. The Base Commander then learnt of the Pakistani incursion. Immediately the four single-seater Hunters were made, ready for tactical reconnaissance missions to be carried out at first light. The sense of urgency was greatly increased by repeated calls from GOC 12 Infantry Division who left no doubt in the mind of the Air Force commander that the army outpost at Longewala was quite helpless in the face of an overwhelmingly superior force. The battlion commander, Lt Col Mohammad Khurshid Hussain, sent them two anti-tank guns. The battle started at about 0400 hrs.
Arriving at Longewala at about 0715 hrs on the morning of 5 December, the first mission of two Hunters reported the presence of T59 tanks which was confirmed by an Air OP air-craft that had also been sent out to that area. The Hunters set about engaging the tanks with guns and rockets. Their R/T transmissions were monitored at Jaisalmer, from where subsequent strikes were launched without any delay. Missions of two aircraft each followed one another in quick succession, their purpose being to seek out and destroy Pak tanks and troops wherever they could be found. As recorded in the War Diary at Jaisalmer, this was “a clean battle, the only one of its kind, between Pakistani armour and the Indian forces”. It was clean in the sense that the Air Force alone fought the Pakistani ground forces because apart from the small company deployed at Longewala there were no Indian troops to oppose the Pakistanis. With a total of four Hunters, Jaisalmer was able to launch 17 sorties destroying some 50 per cent of the enemy’s armour around Longewala. This was confirmed by the number of tanks seen ablaze by both the Air Observation Post and the, men of the Longewala outpost.
Later that evening, the Army intercepted a R/T message from the Pakistanis to their higher
PERSONAL FOR WGCDR BAWA FROM GOC ( WE HAD EXCELLENT COOPERATION AND SUPPORT TODAY ( SHOOTING BY YOUR BOYS HAS BEEN MOST ACCURATE RESULTING IN DESTROYING NUMBER OF ENEMY TANKS AND BLUNTING HIS ATTACK (.) PLEASE CONVEY MY APPRECIATION AND THAT OF MY TROOPS TO PILOTS (.) CONGRATULATIONS ON EXCELLENT PERFORMANCE O
The night of 5 December was again spent in waiting for an attack on Jaisalmer airfield. The need for this was emphasised by the Divisional Commander who, speaking with Bawa, said that since the Air Force based at Jaisalmer was hurting the enemy most, it was quite likely that the Pakistanis would attempt to thrust the squadron of tanks to neutralise the airfield. The Divisional Commander expressed his inability to offer anything to counter the thrust, but left it to Bawa to do what he could to protect his airfield. Since the Hunters were of little use for night attacks on enemy armour, the most that could be done was to get the ack-ack guns to stand by to counter any armour threat if it developed at night.
During the course of the night, a report was received from the Army to the effect that a bomber air raid could be expected shortly at Jaisalmer. The time then was 0440 hrs. In due course the noise of aircraft engines was heard from which it appeared that the bomber was powered by piston engines. The ack-ack guns opened fire whereupon the aircraft off-loaded its bombs, some thirty in number, outside the airfield and beat a wasty retreat. One of the bombs hit the underground power cable and the telephone pole thus disrupting both telephone communications and mains power supply to the station, For the next six hours, Jaisalmer operated on its standby generator and was without telephone facility.
At first light on 6 December, Tac R sorties were sent out on all routes leading into Jaisalmer to ascertain if any armour thrust was being mounted on the airfield. No such threat was seen, so the aircraft were switched back to the support of Longewala. As on the previous day, the Pakistani tanks were picked
up one by one and were hit repeatedly till they started to burn. By the evening, nearly 40 tanks lay burning or damaged in the desert. To all effects the battle of Longewala was over and with it the safety of Jaisalmer and possibly a large part of the State of Rajasthan was ensured.
The plan of 12 Infantry Divison to attack Rahimyar Khan misfired. In fact it was discovered that the route it had proposed to take was heavily mined-good Pak intelligenceand there was no likelihood of its reaching Rahimyar Khan in 48 hours as planned. 12 Infantry Division hardly fought at all but its GOC, Maj Gen Khambata, was given PVSM (Param Vishisht Seva Medal). Likewise the brigade commander Tanot, who was most reluctant to move against Pak armour at Longewala, was given an AVSM (Ati Vishisht Seva Medal). Maj Chandpuri the company commander who took the brunt of the attack and fought with great grit, courage and determination was awarded a very well-deserved MVC (Maha Vir Chakra). Though 12 Infantry Division had nothing to do with the stopping of the Pak tank force at Longewala, it nevertheless observes a Longewala Day in celebration of its victory. Do we?
At the request of 7 TAC more Hunters were moved to Jaisalmer from Eastern Air Command, but they arrived after the main action had taken place.
Jaisalmer did not rest on the laurels earned on 5 and 6 December. From 7 to 17 December ten to twenty-four sorties a day were flown in interdiction of railway trains carrying war material such as tanks, pounding enemy positions and for casualty evacuation. By 8th more Hunters had joined from Jamnagar, raising the total number of aircraft to fourteen. The base commander, Wg Cdr Bawa, sent a message to the TAC commander at Jodhpur: “Not being utilised fully. Request more utilisation.” They put pressure along the Rahimyar Khan-Rohri axis to help our 11 and 12 Divisions to move forward but they did not. As Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan said: “Mercifully the Indians did not pursue.”* There was air opposition further south at Naya Chor by Mig 19.
On 15 December, about an hour before sun down, a message came from GOC 12 Infantry Division that two F 104, Starfighters were heading towards Jaisalmer. Since, the base had no aerial combat so far, the base commander immediately had six Hunters ready to welcome them. But the enemy did not show up. So the CO sent a reply to the GOC, “Thank you for the information. Reception Committee of six Hunters disappointed”.
The base commander, Wg Cdr Bawa, was awarded an AVSM. Wg Cdr D.M. Conquest won an AVSM as well as a Vir Chakra. Seven other pilots of the Air Force and a Major and a Captain of No 12 Air Observation Post won Vir Chakras. Ten persons won Mention in Despatches. It was a job well done.
General Staff, (BGS) expected OC TAC to work under him. But Lt Gen Bewoor and his Chief of Staff (COS) Maj Gen Satinder Singh sorted that out. They recognised that the Army and the Air Force would be operating jointly, rather than the Air Force under the Army.
Lt Gen Bewoor launched his offensive from southern Rajasthan towards Naya Chor in Sind. Gadra, on the border, was taken easily and so was Mulla Feroze. But the Ground Liaison Officer (GLO), Dastur, in his enthusiasm drove so far ahead on his own instead of staying with our forces that he was captured by the Pakistanis. The Army advance stopped at Naya Chor (Parbat Ali). Air support was offered from Uttarlai for places even beyond Naya Chor but it was not availed of. Air reconnaissance showed Pak armour to be well camouflaged in the Naya Chor area.
Army columns were also sent in a south-westerly direction towards Nagar Parkar and Lt Col Bhawani Singh’s commandos showed a great deal of dash. No air support was caned for in this area.
Reconnaissance and immediate support missions were mounted on demand from the Army. The acceptance or rejection of these demands was left to the discretion of OC TAC. The COS, Maj Gen Satinder Singh, was often in the Joint Operation Centre with the OC TAC. Counter air missions began after Longewala had been taken care of HF. 24s (Maruts) went across to Hyderabad (Sind) and Nawabshah. Interdiction of rail movement was undertaken between Rahimyar Khan, Sukkur and Hyderabad. In communication, both the land line as well as the Air Force links worked well.
Uttarlai
Uttarlai was the new Air Force Station near Barmer which had its first experience of war, its baptism of fire, in 1971. Wg Cdr V.K. Murthy was the station commander. As is usually the case, he was somewhat short of resources as well as manpower. So he took every opportunity to use help whenever it came his way. Shortly before the war started, the District Collector, Shri Srivastava, visited the unit and he took him for a joyride over the airfield. The smooth stretch of the tarmac runway shone like a beacon from the air. Murthy remarked to the DC that it would be a very easy target for the enemy. The DC suggested camouflaging it and Murthy said he had nothing to do it with. The DC very kindly arranged to send some old, used oil to be slapped on the runway-and labourers from some local mines to do the job. The Commissioner of Police, Shri Shantanu Kumar, also contributed his share by providing material and men to construct a dummy runway. Despite these precautions the enemy was not fooled. The runway was bombed thrice on the very first evening of the war. Such a possibility had been envisaged and Murthy had trained the pilots of his station to take off from and land on the taxi-track That is how they operated for the first six days of the war. They flew about three hundred sorties with great gusto and style—the Maruts, Gnats and later the Migs.
Uttarlai got it in the very first wave of attacks and had two more the same night. The first attack was by a solitary, Canberra B 57 which came with its navigation lights on. The people on the ground thought it
Close support to Southern, Command
IN NOVEMBER 1971, when Lt Gen G.G. Bewoor, GOC-in-C Southern Command moved to Jodhpur from Pune, 7 TAC with Gp Capt M.M. Arora (now Air Commodore) in command was already in position with staff and communication built up from September onwards. To begin with Brig Suri, the Brigadier General
Naya Chor sector. On 5 and 6 December they complemented the Hunters at Longewala. In the way of interdiction they strafed the railway line from Rohri to Khanpur and the marshalling yard at Mirpur Khas. This was their debut in war and they acquitted themselves very well though, unfortunately, their rate of attrition as high, in fact the highest amongst the fighters, due more to ack-ack than air action.
Jamnagar
was our own aircraft. On the second circuit it switched off its lights, thus removing all doubts, and at 1925 hrs delivered the bombs. The ack-ack, opened up. The bombs fell on one side of the runway leaving the rest of it intact. The second attack came even before the debris could be cleared. Again the ack-ack opened up but a third attack followed.
The work of clearing the runway had to be started as soon as possible and done fast. People ran for shovels and any other suitable implements. But this was taking time. Subedar Labh Singh of the MES had an inspiration. He undid his turban, said his prayers and asked God’s pardon for what he was about to do. He asked another man to hold it taut and with the turban thus stretched they started sweeping the debris off the runway. He received a Mention in Despatches and an honorary commission for this innovative and personal contribution.
Fighters started roaring off by 0630 hrs on the 4th. Gnats for close support of 11 Division and CAPS and Maruts to attack Hyderabad and Nawabshah airfields in Sind. The first formation of four Maruts was led by the Commander of No, 10 Squadron- The Falcons,Wg Cdr Aggarwal. The second was led by Sqn Ldr ‘Joe’ to attack Gazi Camp. All went well with the first formation but in the second one we lost Flt Lt P.V. Apte. His aircraft was shot by a Sabre and while ejecting he himself was shot. It was possible to recover his body and he had bullets in his back. Anotber Marut was lost over Naya Chor and the pilot, Flt Lt Bhargava, was taken prisoner.
On 7 December San Ldr K.K. Bakshi in his Marut shot a Sable south-east of Naya Chor. His number two, Sekhar, and the Army confirmed the kill. One Marut was shot up on the ground at Uttarlai.
On 10 December a Starfighter come over Uttarlai as Fg Offr S.C. Sharma was about to take off in a MI 4 helicopter on a casualty evacuation mission. Sharma reacted instinctively: he moved over to a very dusty patch and started hovering low with the rotors going full blast. It raised such a whirlwind of dust that the Starfighter failed to take aim while the ack-ack guns opened up.
Migs came to Uttarlai towards the end of the war, for the last three days. Two Mig 21s escorting four Maruts on a strike mission towards Naya Chor-Mirpur Khas met three Mig 19s and managed to shoot one of them with a K 13 missile. On the last day of the war, that is on 17 December, two Starfighters came to raid Uttarlai. Maruts and Migs were already up in the air. San Ldr I. S. Bindra and Flt Lt A. K. Dutta shot down one Starfighter each. Bindra shot his prey down in full view of Uttarlai base. The two K13s missed but he got him with his guns.
Also on that last day, two Maruts on their way to Hyderabad air base, spotted two Sabres. While chasing them a third one materialised from above and tried to get on to the tail of the second Marut. Fortunately he overshot and loomed up in front of the leading Marut. Presented with a perfect target Joe lost no time in shooting it down.
Mrs Barkatullah Khan MP, wife of the Chief Minister of Rajasthan, took the trouble to visit the forward outposts. It was a great morale booster for everyone.
Maruts are multi role aircraft. They did counter air sorties against air bases in Sind, going in 200 miles into enemy territory with 2000 lbs of bombs. They gave close support to 11 Infantry Division in
Situated on the sea coast in Gujarat, Jamnagar is an important bastion of defence for India particularly for the Air Force and the Navy. In 1971 Gp Capt P. W. Wilson a pilot who won a Vir Chakra in 1965, was in command of the Air Force base. He set up his Advance Control Centre out in the open, protected only by sand bags. The Centre was in contact with the entire airfield, a dug-out acting as a well protected operations control room. He had a false runway built at the firing range. Jamnagar being an Armament Training Wing, and had the main runway camouflaged with coats of tar and oil as was done at Uttarlai. The lights along the runway were dimmed by using torches run on old car batteries. He forbade the ackack guns to fire unless specifically ordered to because they give away the positions easily. With all these precautions, the runway was saved when the actual attack came-neither the genuine nor the false runway came to any harm.
He also tried to work out how best to intercept a Canberra. The radar could pick it up only at a height and it was certain to come low. He thought of using Mig 21s which have built in radar but that was effective only if the Mig could align itself behind the Canberra…. These attempts and trials were not very successful.
The main base of the Migs of No. 47 Squadron was Hindon but they were split up into four detachments. Two aircraft were at Hindon, two at Palam, four at Halwara and six or eight of them, that is the majority, were at Jamnagar with the CO, Wg Cdr H. S. Gill. Their main role was air defence, ORP duties day and night, and interception, but they were to go for air strikes and ground attack also as and when required. So rocket-pods were flown in for them with armament. The main target was the Signals Unit at Badin and also they could attack opportunity targets such as a power house, operations room or radar station. However, if they carried bombs, that would restrict the amount of fuel they could carry and so cut down on range.
The other unit there was the Operational Conversion Unit (OCU), earlier known as Operational Training Unit (OTU) reminds me of the OTU at Peshawar in the early forties. Hunters were there, commanded by Wg Cdr D. M. Conquest. To begin with, Conquest did not have much faith in the Migs because they took longer than the Gnats and Hunters to scramble. But the Migs demonstrated in exercises that they could manage to scramble in 1 min and 45 secs to intercept the Hunters, so they were honoured with new responsibilities, new deployments.
The Hunter pilots were divided into two sets of crew with predetermined targets. One set of targets
*The translation reads, “The enemy Air Force has made our life miserable. The attacks are carried out by single aircraft and last upto twenty minutes each. 40% of our troops and equipment have been destroyed. Let alone advance further, even retreat has become difficult. Provide air support immediately, otherwise retreat will be impossible.”
*Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan, Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership. National Book Foundation, Islamabad 1972, p. 212.
was the Karachi harbour and the air bases close by, the other one was the Signals Unit at Badin and the new airfield Talahar north of Badin.
When the war started, the first strike was launched on the 4th at dawn by four Hunters led by Wg Cdr Conquest. The targets were the oil storage tanks at Karachi harbour. They hit the tanks successfully. There was so much smoke that the last aircraft could hardly see the target. For a few days they burnt furiously. Simultaneously, another formation of four Hunters flown by four Squadron Leaders- Cowasjee, F. J. Mehta, Hingorani and S. K. Gupta-launched an attack on the Badin SU. The attack on Badin was repeated the same evening. The attack on the oil tanks was repeated the next morning, that is on the 5th. Meanwhile the Migs flew CAPs over Jamnagar to preclude retaliation.
The Migs certainly proved their worth later when two F 104 Starfighters attacked Jamnagar. They came in low, the radar could not pick them up but the Observation Posts gave the base three-and-a-half minute’s warning. So the CAP controller scrambled two Migs against them, flown by Flt Lts Soni and Saigal. Both got their targets with their K 13 missiles. The aircraft that Soni shot fell into the sea in public view and the pilot also ejected into the sea. Rescue teams were sent out but he, or his body, could not be found. However, a price was paid by Jamnagar. Wg Cdr Gill was shot down on one of his attacks over Badin.
Pilots, specially fighter and bomber pilots, the cutting edge of the Air Force, take the greatest risk and win the greatest honours. But they are tremendously dependent on the efforts of those unsung heroes who maintain the aircraft and keep the turn around time to the minimum. Also the civilian non-combatants who, undaunted by the air-raids, kept the services going. Food, for instance, was usually good and served timely at the messes and that goes a considerable way in helping people to do strenuous jobs.
Certain other contributions also deserve a mention. One such was from the small community of Kanbi Patels who are residents of Bhuj in Gujarat. There is an airfield at Bhuj and the PAF bombed the runway fairly accurately. The Air Force CO found it difficult to get together enough labour to repair it. So he sought help from the DC. The DC contacted the Kanbi Patels for whom one of the means of livelihood is construction work. The standard of their work is much better than that of the ordinary run of such workers and they charge more. Because they are much in demand they are well-to-do people. At the DC’s request, their team came in their own bus, bringing with them their own implements. Men and women worked and the job was done fairly quickly and very satisfactorily. Then came the question of payment. The Air Force CO of the station and the DC asked, “How much?” Their reply was, “Nothing, thank you.” But why? “If our men are prepared to lay down their lives for our country, the least that the Kanbi Patels can do is to contribute their labour for the same thing.” But how could the Air Force thank them? The DC suggested, take a few baskets of fruits and sweets to their temple and offer them to God and their Guru Narayan Swamy who taught them simple living and honest work. That was done and then the fruits and sweets were distributed as prasad. Wish that there were more followers of Guru Narayan Swamy all over India!
Central Air Command
HEAD QUARTERS CENTRAL AIR COMMAND (CAC) was, and still is, at Allahabad in Uttar Pradesh, the city at the confluence of the Ganga and the Jamuna. CAC’s duties were four-fold. They were responsible for all the bomber squadrons, the transport squadrons, maritime operations and strategic photo-reconnaissance.
Our bombers are mainly the Canberras, although the other aircraft-Mysteres, Hunters, Sukhois, Migs and even Gnats-can, and do, carry a small amount of bombs. The bomber version of the Canberra carries a load of 8000 lbs of bombs. The interdiction version carries a mix of bombs, rockets and four 20 mm machine guns. A squadron of Canberras was stationed at Gorakhpur to serve the east, another at Pune to serve the south-western sector and the Navy and another at Agra to serve the western front. One squadron of AN 125 was converted into bombers, for the first time in the history of that aircraft. These bombers were the first aircraft which spear headed the response to the challenge of the preemptive strike on the evening of 3 December 1971.
The bombing targets were planned at Air Headquarters in consultation with me. The plan was then passed on to CAC for implementation. Requests from the Army and Western Air Command for bombing were also vetted at Air HQ and tasks allotted to CAC with the user command being kept in the picture. All bombing operations had to be coordinated with the respective commands as these aircraft were to use their airspace. Most of the bombing done by Canberras and AN 125 was at night when airspace was not cluttered up by the fighters and fighter-bombers.
The AOC-in-C, CAC, in 1971 was Air Mshl Maurice Barker. Air I was our distinguished Canberra pilot Gp Capt (now Air Marshal) P.P. Singh who had earned his Maha Vir Chakra in 1965. He was in charge of air operation and he assesses:
Canberras of No. 5 Squadron were busy in the west, striking at the enemy airfields and lines of communication in the Chhamb Sector, Shakargarh, Zafarwal and other enemy bases and concentrations further south as well as west. On 11 December, when the river Munnawar Tawi served as the bombline, they disgorged 36,000 lbs, that is over 16,000 kg, of bombs on Pak concentrations including artillery and armour near Burejal. They dropped anti-tyre steel-tripod bombs on Mianwali runway to put it out of commission. This experiment unfortunately was not very successful because there was not sufficient time to allow the adhesive base to congeal. Interestingly, some other countries enquired about these bombs after the war! Canberras of No. 16 Squadron were busy in the east, bombing the Jessore sector to help 2 Corps, Tejgaon and Kurmitola airfields at Dhaka, Chittagong and Lalmai and doing a lot of interdiction as well. No. 35 Squadron commanded by Wg Cdr K.K, Badhwar was at Pune in order to coordinate with the Navy and be of service in the south-west.
I spoke with Air Cmde K.K. Badhwar and Air Chief Mshl Dilbagh Singh who in 1971 was Station Commander, Pune, about the bombing of oil installations at Karachi on the night of 9 December 1971.
It had been my belief that the attack on the oil installations had been worked out well in advance by CAC and that it had been coordinated along with the Navy’s attack on Karachi harbour that night. Talking with Badhwar I learnt that it was otherwise. The attack on the oil installations was carried out by him on his own initiative and not on directions from either AOC Pune or AOCin-C Central Air Command.
According to Badhwar, his Canberras were allotted two principal tasks: one was to maintain a strike force of interdictor aircraft to assist the Navy in dealing with enemy shipping; and the other, to provide aircraft for bombing missions directed against the airfields at Karachi and in its neighbourhood.
In the event, the interdictors were never called out to support the Navy, but the bombers were engaged in counter air missions very frequently. Badhwar personally led attacks on Masroor air base on the nights of 4, 5 and 6 December, and against Drigh Road on the night of 8 December. Routing of the aircraft for these missions was to approach Karachi from the north, attack targets, and then make a quick getaway by flying out to sea before returning inland to Pune.
Badhwar recounted that during the period of these attacks the weather was fine and the bombing was carried out in bright moonlight and that he was struck by the fact that there was a long line of oil storage tanks bordering the harbour area. They presented a most attractive target for his bombers… He requested that he be allowed to attack the oil tanks, but his request was turned down by both the Station and the Command. He was told that he must keep to the targets designated, which were the airfields around Karachi, and not be diverted to anything else. The damage inflicted on the airfields by Badhwar’s estimate was minimal. He believes that there was one lucky strike on a culvert at Masroor, on the very first night, which prevented some ten Pakistani B 57 aircraft from crossing over to the main runway and thereby rendering them inactive for a while. Apart from this, he does not believe that any major damage was inflicted on the Pakistani Air Force or its installations though Intelligence reports later indicated that a hangar was destroyed and with it an electronic counter measure aircraft which had been parked inside it.
As a rule Badhwar had only four aircraft for counter air missions. On the night of 9 December,
We had sufficient time for preparation. In 1965 we did a lot of ad-hoc work. In 1971 we were far more organised. As compared to the Army, everything is preplanned in the Air Force. We know which targets to bomb. Air support was available to the Army on call. The Army, however, cannot be certain as to what exactly is going to happen. So it is an earmarking of certain efforts for them. For the Air Force, everything is marked, even to the extent of loads and fusing. And the Canberras have gone in both as bombers as we all as ground attack force when required, as in Chhamb.
however, eight aircraft were released for operations against Karachi. The targets assigned to the squadron that night were the airfield at Drigh Road and installations in the harbour. He detailed four aircraft for the airfield and the other four he led personally for an attack on the oil tanks in Karachi harbour. These four aircraft were fitted with tip tanks and carried six 1,000 lb bombs each. Badhwar recalled that the very first bomb blew open a number of tanks and he could see oil spilling from them across the shore and into the sea. The tanks also caught fire and were well ablaze by the time the other three aircraft followed him in. They also dropped their bombs on the oil installations.
The night of 9 December, was the only occasion when Badhwar was directed to attack Karachi harbour. Earlier no such attacks had been allowed by CAC apparently for fear of damaging foreign ships. The attack on the night of the 9th took place at about the same time as an attack by our naval force on Karachi harbour. Badhwar himself did not know that our Navy was taking part-he had not been briefed about it. This arrangement had been made between Air Vice Mshl Pandit and the naval commander in Bombay. The Navy eventually claimed that it had set Karachi harbour on fire. Badhwar disputes that: he maintains that the first attacks on the oil installations from CAC were launched by him personally. That area had also been attacked on the morning of 4 December, by Hunters from Jamnagar under WAC.
Air Chief Mshl Dilbagh Singh confirms that the oil tanks were never specifically indicated as targets for Badhwar’s squadron. He also confirms that the Canberra attacks were directed mainly at airfields around Karachi and also the airfields at Nawabshah and Hyderabad, Sind. The strategy appears to have been to harass the Pakistani Air Force by night, so as to prevent its operations by day. The value of oil as a strategic target had apparently not been appreciated by CAC and was therefore, not listed as one of the objectives for Badhwar’s squadron. Badhwar’s attack on the oil tanks was on his own initiative. Badhwar’s tactics were his own too, in that he bombed in sticks rather than all bombs on one-point target. Tactical routing was also worked out by him, so also the fusing policy. Instead of instantaneous fusing, he used delays of 0.24 seconds. Nose-hardened bombs were required but were not available.
The fact that the oil installations had been hit was borne out by Badhwar and other members of his squadron. This information was passed to Central Air Command immediately with the suggestion from Dilbagh that it be made known to Air Headquarters and that the strikes against oil installations be clearly claimed by the Air Force. He does not remember whether that was done.
I wrote to Air Mshl Barker, the then AOC-in-C Central Air Command, asking him about the planning of targets for strategic bombing. While he laid claim to having done a great deal of such planning, he made no specific statement to the effect that the oil installations at Karachi were included amongst them.
On balance it would appear that Badhwar’s claim to have taken the initiative in bombing the oil installations is correct. On the night of 9 December, he had been briefed by CAC to bomb Karachi harbour and its installations of which the oil tanks were an important part. He was, therefore, fully justified in attacking them. The resulting destruction of large quantities of oil, and the effect that had on the morale of the local population, made a very significant contribution to the winning of the war. A year or so after the war I heard about this from a very reliable Pakistani friend, who was in Karachi in December 1971, who
greeted me with: “Pratap, this time you bombed the daylight out of us.”
Reports heard from others who were in Karachi at the time confirm that the air attack by Hunters on the oil storage tanks in the harbour area on the morning of 4 December and subsequent bomber raids on the military airfields at Masroor and Drigh Road brought home the realisation to the civil population that the war was on. These caused some local disturbances, no doubt, but did not seriously affect the sense of security that prevailed in Karachi. The people of that city firmly believed that the Pakistan Air Force and Navy were more than adequate to protect their major sea port; nor did they credit the Indian Air Force and Navy with the ability to seriously threaten Pakistan. This belief was rudely shattered on the night of 9 December, when the Navy and the Air Force simultaneously, launched an attack on the harbour installations at Karachi. The Indian naval force of seven missile boats had set out for Karachi a few days previously, each vessel taking a different route to the rendezvouz point. The small armada was under the command of Rear Adm E.C. Kuruvilla who directed the operations from INS Mysore but did not accompany the task force. The force operated under Commanders K. P. Gopal Rao and P. B. Yadav. After forming up at its RV on the night of 8/9 December they boldly set course for Karachi harbour at 2100 hrs. Meanwhile the Canberras of No. 35 Squadron under command of Wg Cdr Badhwar were on their way to the same area. The targets assigned to them were PAF maintenance depot and airfield at Drigh Road and the harbour installations at Karachi. The fact that the harbour was also to be attacked by the Navy was not known to Badhwar. The joint operations had been planned by the commander of the Maritime Air Operations Centre, Air Vice Mshl Pandit and his naval counterpart. The Navy and the Air Force, therefore acted in close collaboration with each other, though the aim to launch their respective attacks from the air and from the sea was not known to either of the participants. The Navy’s main targets were Khyber, a battle class destroyer which was hit, ShahJehan, another destroyer which was damaged but which moved away and thirdly a tanker. In retaliation, the PAF tank a torpedo boat which in fact was an Arabian boat lent to Pakistan. As far as Karachi was concerned the issue of the war was settled on 9 December.
The IAF reconnaissance aircraft which penetrated as far as Qatar and up to the international boundary with Iran reported seeing road tankers bringing fuel into Pakistan from the west. The loss of prabably millions of litres of oil was undoubtedly a major factor in the growing realisation amongst military commanders in West Pakistan that they could not fight a war of any duration against India. It gave them justification for ending the war when that opportunity was offered by the Indian Unilateral Declaration of Ceasefire on 17 December.
AN 12s as Bombers
THE USE OF AN 125 as bombers was a very successful innovation. The project of the modification of the big, powerful, four-engine freighters started under the stewardship of my predecessor, Air Chief Mshl Arjan Singh. Initially the aircrew resisted it but he insisted that they give it a fair trial. In 1971, No. 44 AN 12
Squadron, “The Himalayan Geese’, commanded by Wg Cdr V.B. Vashisht was formidably, devastatingly effective. Bareilly in the western part of Uttar Pradesh was their wartime base although their original home base was Chandigarh in Punjab.
Till 1969, the squadron was commanded by Wg Cdr V.C. Mankotia and Vashisht was a flight commander and subsequently, till August 1971, he was OC Flying at Chandigarh. Work was going on regarding the design technicalities for the conversion of the aircraft into a bomber. It could be on a skidboard as was used for supply dropping. Air Cmde C.K. Singh and his team, however, improved upon this by designing a cradle for the bomb which would slide down a conveyor belt installed in the aircraft. Meanwhile, practice and training were going on at night flying and low flying. Then came a tragedy. On a dark, rainy August night in 1971 an AN 12 on an exercise crashed into a hillside in Pune killing the pilot, Wg Cdr Bhattacharya, the co-pilot, the navigator, the gunner and also Gp Capt J.B. Lal, who was Air II in air operations at Western Air Command, who happened to be in the aircraft. Morale plummeted.
Vashisht was appointed the new CO of the squadron. Preparations for a possible war continued. Out of thirty or so pilots of the squadron, Vashisht selected eight pilots and the same number of navigators to train for low flying, down to about fifty feet above ground level, that is, at tree-top height, at night and in blackout conditions with only the runway lights turned on for a few seconds. Thus, the aircraft is guided by using only its instruments and the stars if the latter are visible. Apart from technical problems, there were psychological problems to overcome. The transport pilots had no experience of bombing since that was not their job. Besides the skill, confidence and morale of the pilots the serviceability of the aircrafts also had to be built up. In August only three or four out of ten aircraft were serviceable at a time, but by November serviceability was 100 per cent and so it remained during the war.
The detachment was ordered to move from Chandigarh to Bareilly on 30 November. The advance party under the senior flight commander, Sqn Ldr G.S. Aluwalia moved on 1 December. Gp Capt Raghavendran was the station commander at Bareilly. The main body of the detachment moved on the morning of 3 December and the fighting started the same evening. Out of 450 or so airmen of the squadron, only about 125 were brought to Bareilly. Under the leadership of Master Warrant Officer Samuel, they worked round the clock. Even fourth line repairs, which are normally done at Base Repair Depots, were done on the station. The airmen put in much more than their routine duties in time and effort. The achievements of the squadron were, to a great extent, due to their efforts.
Late in November, Air HQ and AOC-in-C Eastern Air Command had considered posting this detachment to the eastern sector, in Jorhat, the proposed targets being the Chittagong complex, the two airfields at Dhaka and the Jaydebpur Ordnance Factory north of Dhaka. Wg Cdr Vashisht did a recce of the area and found that there were a number of difficulties. The availability of fuel for a number of such large aircraft posed a problem, another being the frequent morning fogs in that damp climate and, thirdly, the hilly terrain would make night operations at low altitude difficult. The proposal was, therefore, dropped.
Initially it was intended to organise the sorties taking advantage of the moonlight. But since that
advantage in the early part of the night was available only for two or three nights dawn or dusk attacks were also planned. Finally they did daylight attacks as well.
On the night of 3 December, they were out for their first operational sortie: six aircraft led by Wg Cdr Vashisht, each aircraft armed with 20 x 500 lb bombs and some napalm ones as well. Their target was the reported ammunition and POL (Petrol, oil and lubricants) dumps, tanks and whatever else there was in the Changa Manga Forest, time-over-target (TOT) being approximately midnight. They entered Pakistan from the Hussainiwala area, but at the border the leader was fired upon by our own troops on the ground. He asked the other five aircraft to change course slightly and they continued to the target area towards the sectors which he had assigned to each of the aircraft.
During the trials earlier it was found that when the aircraft flew past at low level, people on the ground heard the sound a split-second later. Therefore, Vashisht decided to release their bombs from a low level-about 180 ft-taking into account the trajectory, about a 1000 yds short of the target. The conveyor belt in the aircraft moved fairly slowly, so the rate of release of the bombs was controlled by the speed of the aircraft. They visited the same target the next night also.
Vashisht had been flying AN 12s since November, 1967 and also he knew the terrain in Kashmir well. He was asked to bomb the area around Kahuta in the Haji Pir salient near Poonch where the enemy was launching an offensive. This needed to be done on 6 December. Vashisht was told to attack two areas 4 km each. Six aircraft took part, line astern. The routing was from Bareilly over Sarsawa in UP near Saharanpur, Kulu, Rohtang Pass, over Srinagar where Vashisht wanted the Instrumental Landing System (ILS) put on-not that they would land but for location-and then Poonch. He had told AOC Jammu & Kashmir, Air Cdre S. Banerji, and also the TAC commander to put a few men on the ground holding torches to form an arrow indicating the direction of the target, using one torch for every 500 yds approximately. This task was done by the Army which was under great pressure in that sector.
Vashisht worked out his own flight plans, telling only those who were to fly: only those who needed to know. He did not use any other device but a stop watch to regulate the release of the bombs, “Lights on” was the code word. He varied the timing of each aircraft to spread out the bombs to cover the whole area so that all the bombs did not land at the same place at the same time. He also ordered the guns at the rear of the aircraft to fire. The area was a narrow valley, like a bowl, where the bombs were dropped from about a 1000 ft (about 300 AOL, that is, “above obstruction level.” It was a four-hour job-departure time about midnight, bombing at 0200 hrs, back by 0400 hrs. The mission was very successful. The next day, the Army Chief conveyed his appreciation to the squadron. After the war, the GOC Jammu & Kashmir, Lt Gen Sartaj Singh, personally told Vashisht that the Pakistani brigade that was concentrating for a thrust next morning was wiped out by this attack.
The next target was the Headquaters of 18 Division at Fort Abbas, in Pakistan, located due west of Anupgarh in India which is south-west of Ganganagar, and north-west of Bikaner. Two aircraft did the job of bombing and strafing. The next was Suliemanke Headworks, followed by the attack on the Pak army installations at Bahawalnagar, west of Ganganagar.
At Suleimanke Headworks and the surrounding area, that is near Fazilka, where Pakistan had a foothold on the east of the river Sutlej, our Army suffered a reverse initially. They stabilised later largely due to the efforts of the Air Force. The daylight attacks in close support were flown by Sukhois from Halwara and Mysteres from Sirsa and the night attacks by Canberras from Agra. Some Sukhois and Mysteres were lost. Here, too, No. 44 Squadron, the Himalayan Geese, were asked to do some area bombing at night. Wg Cdr Vashisht led a formation of four aircraft. They refuelled at Jodhpur. The leader flew at low level at 180 ft, the other three aircraft high, at 6,500 ft well beyond the range of enemy L60 and L70 guns. Vashisht flew down the river luckily unhit by ground fire. The other three aircraft came from a slightly different direction and dropped their load of bombs at 10 second intervals. The ground fire at the leader helped the other three aircraft to pinpoint their target.
On 11 December, some of them went east and helped in the paradrop at Tangail. The next day, on 12th, they bombed the Ordnance Factory at Jaydebpur. There was no air opposition but there was ground fire. They carried out this raid in day-light, at 1400 hrs, and then returned to their base.
On 13 December, their job was to attack the railway marshalling yard at Rohri. This was a dusk attack by two aircraft. They took off from Barelly refuelled at Jodhpur and reached their target by tactical routing when there was still some daylight. Then they gained height and did pop-up bombing. There was ground fire from L70s, that is, up to 4,500 ft approximately. The leader made the first probe. The second aircraft came ten minute later and the leader told him at what height to come. On 16th they revisited Rohri.
On 14 December, the target given to them was the Sui Gas Plant in Sind, a Rs 500 crore project an important source of Pakistan’s power and energy. It was another dusk attack by three aircraft. Again, they refuelled at Jodhpur. Flying low-level over the desert at dusk or at night has the hazard of a hallucination, a mirage. With the horizon visible in the distance, the tendency is to ignore the instruments and lose height. Ideally the pilot and the co-pilot should both fly the aircraft to keep a check on each other. At Sui, one aircraft got the main plant, one the storage tank and one the area in between. They came back lowlevel to Uttarlai near Barmer in Rajasthan, then pulled up and flew to Jodhpur on their way back to Bareilly. It was reported later that it took six months to restore the plant at Sui, to even produce half its rated capacity.
On 16 December, Gen Niazi surrendered in East Pakistan, but the war was still on in the west. On 17th Vashisht did his last sortie of this war. It was a sortie with a difference. Instead of leading a formation of AN 125 he led a formation of Canberras to Skardu airfield in the northern reaches of Kashmir. Why the Canberras? Air Mshl Barker, AOC-in-C, CAC, was of the opinion that bombing by Canberras would be more accurate than by AN 12s. In the event, out of thritysix bombs carried and delivered by Vashisht’s AN 12, twentyeight fell on the runway and two within a yard of it. It was shallow-glide bombing from 170 ft. The navigator of the Canberra that was following the AN 12 testified to this accuracy and Vashisht himself took photograhps as well. Skardu had no ack-ack guns but after the attack, the gunner reported that there were two Pakistani Mirages chasing Vashisht. He chose a valley and kept on circling slowly there for about twenty minutes. It was not possible for a high speed fighter to follow him there. Having successfully
avoided the Mirages, he came out of the valley and flew back to the home base. The breakaway plan was that after the attack each aircraft should return separately.
The Canberras that participated in this raid were from No. 5 Squadron based at Agra; the squadron commander, Wg Cdr Talwar, also took part. The ceasefire was declared soon after they returned from the mission. The effectivenss of the Canberras as bombers was perhaps reduced by the fact that the 500 lb bombs were of World War II vintage. They were so old that 40 per cent turned out to be duds. The usual bomb-load was to 24 or 25 x 500 lbs fitted with bigger tail cones. But after 10/11 December, the bombload was increased to 36 x 500 lbs fittted with smaller tail cones. The aircraft suffered minor damages from ground fire but there were no casualties, no aircraft loss. The CO earned a Maha Vir Chakra, two others earned Vir Chakras.
The deficiencies in the equipment were more than compensated for by the skill, dedication and enthusiasm of the men who flew these machines. In No. 44 Squadron there was, for example, Warrant Officer Godfrey, an Anglo-Indian Air-Gunner who was ready to migrate to Australia-his release had come with effect from 30 November 1971. He sensed that war was coming and having served the IAF all these years wanted to play his part in it. On 26 November he requested that his release be withheld and subsequently gave an excellent account of himself during the war earning a decoration, the Vayu Sena Medal (VM).
Similarly, San Ldr N.S. Arora who was attached to No. 44 just before war broke out, proved his worth. He asked Wg Cdr Vashisht to be allowed to fly the AN 125 converted as bombers. Vashisht tried to put him off by telling him that it required special training to fly them, which was true. Arora requested that training be given as soon as possible. The thought of flying those sluggish planes several hundred miles inside enemy territory did not deter him. In fact, his enthusiasm was so sincere that Vashisht himself started training him. On 6 December, he got his baptism of fire when he was allowed to fly a mission. Wg Cdr Vashisht used him as co-pilot and subsequently also sent him as the leader of a raid. Arora also won a VM.
Flt Lt Balasubramanian a quiet, unassuming man was the Armament Officer. When the war came, Bala saw to it that all the guns were in perfect order, stores loaded on to the aircraft on time and everything that goes with the job of an armament officer worked to perfection. And he always went on every mission. He exerted himself so much that by 12/13 December, Vashisht tried to rein him in and get him to rest. But Bala had become confident and replied forcefully: “I am the armament officer, I decide who goes and who doesn’t.” He too won a VM.
How misleading a superficial assessment of a man’s character can be is illustrated, by the experience of Flt Lt Mathur who displayed none of the dash and verve associated with a pilot’s personality. Vashisht was unsure of him so when missions were mounted deep into Pak territory, he was not utilised and his mild protest was taken as a face saving gesture. One day Flt Lt Mathur insisted that he be allowed at least one mission to Fort Abbas. Vashisht could scarcely refuse point blank. Reluctantly he detailed him but told him to turn back in two hours whether he got the target or not, and hoped for the best.
Types of Aircraft
Max Speed Mph Kmph
Four hours later Mathur had not returned and they feared the worst. Apparently the navigator had somehow lost the way and his bearings. For almost two hours they had circled and zig-zaged over enemy territory without locating the target. Time was running out. Mathur insisted that they return to the point where they had crossed the border and set course again. With the time and the risk factor, the navigator was reluctant. But Mathur was adamant. They finally did locate Fort Abbas and bomb it. Luck favoured this Himalayan Goose… the fuel lasted and they returned safely though two hours late.
Range Miles Kms 1500 2413
230
370
Dakotas or DC 3s 2 piston engines Packets C 1195 2 piston engines + 1 turbo jet
Year of Capacity or Induction Payload 1946 20 to 28
persons 1954 10,000 lbs or
4,540 kg or
3 jeeps at a time 1961 44,092 lbs or
20,020 kg
296
476
2000
3218
The Transport Squadrons
444
2113
3399
AN 12s 4 turboprop engines
714 (cruising 670)
216
348
1307
2102
1963
Caribous 2 piston engines
BEFORE THE 1971 operations started, we introduced a daily courier service, for movement of stores, wherever and whenever they were needed. Responsibility was given to Maintenance Command (MC), Headquarters at Nagpur, to coordinate and utilise these services to bring up serviceability and position adequate reserves for the front lines. The responsibility of both these commands, CAC and MC, stretched through the length and breadth of the country. The MC is responsible for all the Equipment Depots, Base Repair Depots (BRDs), all the Repair and Salvage Units (R and SUS) earlier known as Care and Maintenance Units (C and MUS) which are allocated to the various operational commands, the Armament Maintenance Units and the Explosives Storage Units. They cover areas as far as Digaru near Gauhati in Assam in the east, Madras and Sulur in the south, and close to the border in the west. For CAC, Maritime Operations cover the naval bases on the east and west coasts. So the area covered by CAC and MC is in fact, the entire country.
Our unsung workhorses, the transport planes have under-gone quite a transformation over the years in speed, range and capacity or payload.
The following chart will give some idea at a glance:
5,152 lbs or 2,340 kg or 32 troops or 26 paratroops or 22 stretchers or 3 tons of cargo or 2 fully loaded jeeps
370
595
4620
7432
1961
62,430 kg
Super Constel- lations 4 piston engines
1962
The function of transport aircraft is to fetch and carry according to their capacity. The earliest transport planes the Dakotas were used for a variety of other purposes too. For instance Coastal Flight training, training of pilots, navigators, air signallers, paradrops, target-towing, survey, photo-recce, airmaintenance, logistic support, flood relief, and aid to civil power. During the blood-bath at the partition of India, Wg Cdr Meher Singh packed a record number of refugees into each flight of his Dakota and ferried them to safety across the border. The Kashmir Operations of 1947-48 would have been impossible without them. Opening up of NEFA (Arunachal of today) would have also been impossible without them. The inhabitants of those inaccessible areas became familiar with the Dakota long before they saw any terrestrial vehicles. For the logistic support in 1962 during the conflict with China, they were invaluable. In December, 1971 they took part in the Tangail paradrop along with their more modern sophisticated, faster, bigger counterparts.
In the east, transport support was given to the Army between 3 April and 30 November, 1971, flying nearly 2,400 hrs, lifting 3,700 men and 1,034 tonnes of other load. This was in addition to normal air maintenance in Ladakh, Nagaland and Mizo Hills plus flood relief in three states and cyclone relief in a fourth.
The AN 12s and Super Constellations have done thousands of miles of low-level maritime, reconnaissance and Search-and Rescue Operations over the sea. The Caribous with their STOL (Short Take Off and Landing) capacity are specially suited for operations in the hilly areas of Arunachal, Nagaland and Mizoram. In the 1971 war, Caribous of No. 33 Squadron did some bombing for its psychological and nuisance value. They took part in the paradrop as well. Later when East Pakistan surrendered, they were amongst the first to carry people and land at the Tejgaon airfield at Dhaka, still with its gaping craters made by the Mig 21s.
The Super-connies, taken over from Air India, replaced the Liberators in the job of maritime reconnaissance in addition to being modified as freighters. However, since they were not armed they could only report sighting enemy shipping and the enemy had every chance of getting away. In Southern Command, a flight of Canberras stood by at Pune to launch an attack when necessary.
Some AN 125 were used for long-distance low-level Maritime Reconnaissance and Search and Rescue Operations over the Arabian Sea. One was equipped as a mobile Air Defence Control Post to monitor and help direct interception of intruding enemy aircraft.
To sum up, our transport squadrons did extremely useful albeit unglamorous jobs.
the Navy as and when required but unfortunately there had been no consistent training for this sort of work. Coastal reconnaissance and harbour reconnaissance were done. The AOC MAO had very little force at his command and usually had to ask the AOC-in-C CAC at Allahabad. A Manual of Joint Sea/Air Warfare was written up and finalised in 1970 on the lines of the Royal Air Force/Royal Navy setup.
The status of AOC MAO became a point of controversy: The Air Force considered him as equal to the Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief (FOC-in-C) but the Navy gave that status to AOC-in-C CAC, and considered the AOC MAO as equivalent to Chief of Staff to FOC-inC. This situation would not have arisen if the AOC MAO had adequate maritime reconnaissance and strike forces under his command. The Navy has since acquired maritime reconnaissance and strike aircraft of its own and is no longer dependent on the Air Force for these functions. Their air-arm includes Sea Hawks FGAbs, Alize 1050s, Alouette IIIs, Sea Kings, Kamors, IL 38 and Sea Harriers and for training BN2 Islanders, HT2s, Devons, Hughes 300, HJT16s (Kirans) and Vampire T55s. The Sea Harriers have a formidable reputation: in the Falkland War of 1982, 28 Sea Harriers are believed to have destroyed 27 enemy aircraft without loss.
In 1971, the definition of naval plans and requirement of fleet and maritime reconnaissance and strike aircraft were not clear. Though joint planning left much to be desired, on the night of 4/5 December when Operation Trident was launched by the Navy on Karachi harbour, the PAF from the two airfields at Karachi were tied down by the Canberras of No. 35 Squadron.
Around 8/9 December there was a report of a “fast moving ship in 8° Channel” and some Canberras from Pune were positioned at Banglore to deal with it. This was later identified as HMS Albion. Also on 8 December all anti-aircraft guns opened up at Bombay on a false report of “lights moving”. There was a great deal of excitement for ten or fifteen minutes but no serious damage occurred. It was on this night that Canberras of No. 35 Squadron, in Pune, bombed the oil storage tanks at Karachi harbour successfully.
One Alize was lost on 10 December. The Navy reported contact with an unidentified vessel off Kutch. A Super-connie left Pune at about 1600 hrs to investigate. Meanwhile Iyer asked the naval aviators at MAO at Bombay if an Alize from Jamnagar could have a look till the Super-connie arrived there. So a naval aircraft took off from Jamnagar without air defence clearance from Air Force, Jamnagar. Then Pakistan announced the shooting down of an aircraft, most probably this was a chance pick-up by the Pak aircraft that came over Okha daily. The Navy reported that it presumably came on recce looking for missile boats. The Pak aircraft must have approached low and fast, scored the hit before there was time to react, and disappeared as it came.
Separate, independent operations by different services or by different commands of the same service for the same objective but without coordination will hardly produce the best results. The maritime recce patrols by Super-connies were flown at 500 ft to 1000 ft ASL. They had no fighter cover.
We lost the anti-submarine frigate INS Khukri on 9 December at 2055 hrs. Khukri had come to Bombay for repairs after which it, along with INS Kripan were sent to investigate a reported snooper off Diu. While on this mission, INS Khukri was torpedoed. A Super-Connie was despatched on a search and rescue mission immediately. The next morning it located. INS Kripan forty miles from where Khukri was
Maritime Air Operations 1971
AOC, WEST INDIA was moved from Pune to Bombay during July/August 1971. The post was redesignated AOC Maritime Operations. Air Vice Mshl Pandit was appointed in command. An Air Force liaison officer was left with the Southern Army Command HQ where Lt Gen G.G. Bewoor was the GOC-in-C. There had been an Air Force Element at Bombay since 1948. Wg Cdr V.S. Iyer took over the command of this in 1968 and was later absorbed on the staff of AOC MAO while San Ldr Chawla took over the Air Force Element (AFE). Both Iyer and Chawla looked after the maritime operations room during the 1971 war. Shortly before the war, Gp Capt G.J. Shaw joined MAO as SASO (Senior Air Staff Officer).
Maritime Air Centres were activated at Vishakhapatnam and Cochin in addition to Bombay. Thirteen to fourteen aircraft were allotted to each Centre. Nearly a hundred missions, 545 hours, were flown by these aircraft between 14 October and 3 December, that is just before the fighting started.
The tasks for No. 6 Squadron Super-Constellations stationed at Pune were transport and maritime reconnaissance with priority to the former. As a result the latter responsibility suffered. The Super-connies did some long hauls to Nicobar Islands for the Navy. The IAF had no suitable aircraft for anti-submarine warfare and strike. Canberras of No. 35 Squadron based at Pune were to undertake sorties for the Navy as
4 Dec
lost. Contact was reported by M/R on the evening of 10 December. The Navy diverted some ships from its force off Karachi to this area. They obtained sonar contact and dropped antisubmarine weapons but without results. The search for the enemy submarine continued till 13th after which Operation Falcon was called off.
The Navy preempted the Air Force control of civil aircraft at Bombay by requisitioning the private helicopter from Khambatas.
Strategic Photo Reconnaissance
As soon as the fog lifted appreciably, both aircraft completed the task successfully. Using our normal tactics, we did not encounter any air opposition. Haphazard ground firing did not affect us during our photo-runs. The Unit photo-section, working on a war-footing, developed and printed the negatives numbering thousands overnight and we were able to deliver the results the very next morning.
In the evening when we returned to our base, we were told that a lone enemy aircraft had made a single low bombing pass on our runway as part of the organised preemptive attack on seven other airfields the day before. There was, however, only superficial damage which was cleared immediately. That night we were told that our sister squadron (Bombers) was running short of one set of crew for a bomb raid on one of the airfields in Pakistan. Flt Lts Sandhu and Dixit from our Squadron volunteered for this vital sortie. They had not flown the Bomber version of the aircraft for quite some time but both were very experienced aircrew. After a very successful mission they unfortunately encountered hydraulic failure on their return, but to their credit, they landed back safely though the airfield was under blackout conditions at the time. Both officers were later decorated for other acts of bravery.
STRATEGIC PHOTO RECONNAISSANCE is done by every country that can manage it. It is a very essential means of gathering intelligence. It involves considerable risk and yet, in the interest of the nation, it must be done No. 106 Squadron did this job under the able guidance of Wg Cdr R.S. Benegal during 1971. Such work is indispensable before the actual fighting starts, yet no country can possibly admit to it. What can be disclosed, if at all, is what is done during the confrontation. Requests from all three Services are vetted at Air Headquarters, the Chief of Air Staff consulted and then the tasks are specified to the Squadron Commander.
Wg Cdr Benegal (now Air Commodore) recounts the role of No. 106 Squadron during the fourteen day war.
5 Dec
Reconnaissance Missions Air Cmde R.S. Benegal MVC, AVSM
Apparently, a diplomat from a foreign (neutral) Embassy, had sent in the alarming piece of news that the Chinese-built road across the Khunjerab Pass which joins the Pak-built counterpart to Hunza and Gilgit was fully operational, and that heavy traffic was reported from China, carrying arms and ammunition and other supplies to Pakistan.
The Chief was a bit sceptical of this report, realising that it was the month of December and that snow and ice could render the road unoperational, but the Government wanted photographic evidence since, if it was true, it would be very serious matter indeed. I was therefore, told to cover the road starting from Khunjerab Pass to as far a distance as practicable, depending on the weather in the area and enemy action if any.
3 Dec
6 Dec
On this day I was attending a briefing at Eastern Air Command, Shillong, when we received news of Pakistan’s preemptive strike on a number of our airfields, thus forcing us into action. It was around 1815 hrs in the evening that the news filtered through and without much ado preparations commenced for a strike back. The valley was shrouded in thick fog that night, but San Ldr Charanjit Singh, one of the Flight, Commanders of the Squadron, managed to fly-in another aircraft to one of the bases here although visibility for landing was just a couple of hundred yards. Since we had made it a regular practice to have all our serviceable aircraft fully loaded with cameras and associated equipment at all times, the aircraft I had brought earlier for attending the briefing was also fully operational.
The first Task given to us was for the Army which wanted urgently aerial photographs of two fairly long strips of ground where the enemy had its concentrations which could pose a hazard when our Army advanced into East Pakistan.
The sortie was long, tiring and frustrating to begin with but later become eventful and then extremely lucky. Due to a western disturbance approaching that area, the entire sector was under a thick layer of cloud rising up to 40,000 ft in places. From a distance of around 180 nautical miles from the target we were in cloud. Keeping to a minimum safety height of 27,000 ft, since the peaks below averaged 22,000 ft, we pressed on hoping for a break in the clouds but there was no let up. There was no question of descending to find out if it was clear below. I climbed upwards to 35,000 ft and there was still no blue sky above. We had been up for over half an hour flying as accurately as possible on instruments. When we were approximately a minute away from the target and still in thick cloud, I considered abandoning the
sortie and suggested the same to my Navigator, Flt Lt Rajwar. He replied, “Sir, let us wait another 3 or 4 minutes.” I maintained course and 30 seconds after crossing the target there was an unbelievable gap in the clouds-and the ground below was visible! A turning dive through this ‘hole’ brought us directly over the Pass and in seconds we had started the photo run. Though the top was still overcast, the valley below was clear and this enabled us to follow the road without much difficulty. The Khunjerab Pass itself is at 10,190 ft but the peaks on either side of the valley rise to 20,00 ft and above. The road winds along the side of the Khunjerab River to Gilgit via Hunza, a distance of over 150 miles. We needed to photograph only a third of the distance to prove beyond doubt that the road was unusable due to snow, snowdrifts and landslides. We had been briefed not to expose ourselves too long in the area, so as soon as the task was completed we took advantage of the clouds and flew back to base safely. The photographs when developed and printed were very clear despite the poor light conditions due to the overcast sky. The mission finally laid to rest all speculation on the diplomat’s unfounded report.
I was coming in from the direction of the enemy and that too at a fast speed and suspicious manner, it was quite understandable that they mistook me for the enemy. I yelled out on the R/T and identified myself, but it was a close shave…. These same aircraft then escorted me back into the battle area and kept watch while I completed my mission and got all the photo coverage that we wanted.
The results were excellent and two particular prints showing a crisscross of tracks in the sand made by the enemy tanks as they desperately tried in vain to escape the accurate firing by our Hunter pilots were released for publication and were prominently printed and highlighted in a number of magazines.
Photo recce missions in East Pakistan were completed by three aircraft simultaneously, with the same TOTS (Time Over Target). One aircraft took photographs of Kurmitola and Tejgaon airfields. During the photo-run there was light to heavy ack-ack fire from enemy guns around the airfields, but no damage was done. The extensive damage caused on the runways by the remarkably accurate bombing by our Migs was clearly visible in the photos.
At the same TOT a second aircraft covered Cox’s Bazar airfield, near the Burma border, and then Chittagong airfield and the harbour area. This was a Naval requirement. The results proved that there were no enemy aircraft on these airfields nor much semblance of either air defence or naval ships in the area.
A third aircraft, again at the same TOT, covered Ishurdi and Jessore airfields, and a large area around Jessore where our Army was successfully pushing forward against the enemy in a pitched battle. This sortie was a combined Air Force/Army requirement.
7 Dec
Two areas were provisionally chosen by the Army, of which one would be finally selected, for a paradrop of men and material to add impetus to our Army’s push towards Dacca. We used two aircraft and simultaneously, covered both areas. The final choice fell on the Tangail area and the actual drop, the first of its kind under operational conditions in India, was carried out by a battalion of the 50th Independent Para Brigade with the help of Packets and Dakotas of the Indian Air Force. It was an unqualified success. The Para Brigade Commander sent us a congratulatory message stating that the photo coverage provided was excellent and helped a great deal towards the success of the operation.
10 Dec
8 Dec
At Longewala, near the Rajasthan border with Pakistan, when a large contingent of enemy T-59 tanks made a concentrated effort to advance across our border, they were completely frustrated by our pilots operating with Hunter aircraft. Reports of the rout and the destruction of scores of enemy tanks prompted our authorities to call for photographic evidence, both from the point of view of authentication and for publicity and as a morale booster. An added task given to me was to recce and photograph to find out whether any enemy tank reinforcements were regrouping across the border for yet another attack in that area.
After contacting our own Radar for surveillance I crossed the border and saw a number of tracks which led up to disabled tanks, easily recognizable by the burnt oil stains around them. We started clicking our cameras and had got in a few good shots when I was warned by our Radar that enemy aircraft were airborne and approaching the area. Since ours is an unarmed aircraft, I beat a hasty retreat. As I recrossed the border I spotted two Hunter aircraft positioning themselves for an attack on our aircraft. I was on the same Radio Frequency and heard the leader call out to his No 2 to prepare for the attack. Since
Naval intelligence had received reports that the bulk of the Pakistan Navy had escaped from around Karachi harbour and was taking shelter at Guadar Bay, near their border with Iran. We were asked whether we could recce and photograph the area. The sortie needed very careful planning, taking into account the distance involved, a profile to avoid enemy radar especially near Karachi and for safe landing with marginal fuel on our return.
We used two aircraft for this mission. Refuelling at a forward air base, we set course in loose formation pursuing a profile for avoiding detection by enemy radar. The sortie was a long and arduous one.
As we were approaching the target, we passed over an Iranian oil tanker heading towards Karachi and when we reached the target we found no ships in the entire Bay. The only bonus point, apart from confirming that the Pakistan Navy was not hiding there, was that we discovered and photographed an active landing strip where an Iranian transport aircraft was busy offloading supplies.
On completion of our task we returned with critically marginal fuel to Bombay and unintentionally caused a scare at the airfield. Since we had requested the airfield Air Traffic Control to keep the circuit clear for an emergency-type direct approach and landing (we could not have carried out an over-shoot due
to lack of fuel), the pilot of a Swissair aircraft which was taxing out misunderstood the instructions from the Control Tower, and thinking that we constituted two Pakistani aircraft about to bomb airfield, taxied back to the parking area hastily and off-loaded the passengers in a panic.
13 Dec
Summing Up
The Army was planning the final three-pronged assault on Dacca and an ultimatum had already been given to the enemy Commander to surrender to prevent further bloodshed. We were asked to provide adequate photo coverage for pinpointing enemy gun-positions, enemy static defences and any other obstacles on the three routes. We used three aircraft, on a for each of the three assault routes, and also took detailed pictures of the defences in and around Dacca. The photographs revealed an elaborate defence system with a maze of trenches and gun-positions surrounding the outer perimeter of Dacca. Some of these photos were later released for publication by the Government.
The films exposed during these three aircraft sorties were developed and printed in record time and delivered. They were however, not of immediate importance since the surrender took place shortly thereafter.
HOW DID WE PERFORM in December, 1971? Well, we can generally say we did not do too badly. In fact we did rather well: we won the war. But that is a blanket statement which glosses over the deficiencies.
We flew something like 7,346 sorties in 14 days, averaging more than 500 sorties per day. If necessary, we could have stepped it up for short periods. Combat sorties numbered nearly 5,400. On the very first night, that is 3 December, the IAF responded to the challenge of the PAF by sending out two dozen Canberra sorties, one AN 12 sortie and also some sorties by the Sukhois and Migs of the Tactical Air Combat Defence Establishment (TACDE). To give some idea of our sorties, during the 24 hours from 0700 hrs on 4 December, to the same hour of the 5th, we mounted 502 sorties, 279 in the eastern sector and 223 in the west. The second day the total was 489 sorties with 205 in the eastern sector and 284 in the west. The breakdown is:
14 Dec
Fresh photographs were taken of Kurmitola and Tejgaon airfields. Surprisingly, even at this late stage there were still pockets of resistance in the form of sporadic ack-ack fire although both airfields had been pounded relentlessly by our fighters and bombers and their runways rendered totally unserviceable.
While the PR Canberras were engaged in recce missions from 3 to 17 December, the three Dakotas of the squadron carried out a number of communication and liaison flights for Command Headquarters.
Total
WAC 164
The first day: Counter air Air defence Offensive support
EAC 112 111
276
36
147
57
223
280
The news of the Pakistani surrender and the cessation of hostilities was flashed across the country on 17 December. That same night, the 11 o’clock news featured the announcement of the first batch of defence personnel decorated for gallantry. It was a very pround moment for me, indeed, when the first name from the Air Force for the award of Maha Vir Chakra was announced. It was from the Squadron-and it was mine! In all, the squadron received 1 MVC; 4 VrCs; 4VMs and 4A0C-in-Cs Commendations.
The second day:
WAC
54
EAC
52 42
Counter air Air defence Offensive support
106
149
191
81
111
192
284
205
489
And thus it went on. The highest number of sorties were flown by Snats, about 1,275. Yet they had the lowest number of
losses none in the east and only two in the west. The next highest number of sorties were flown by Mig 21s. Considering that, their rate of attrition was also not bad, only 0.5 per cent. Two were lost in the east and six in the west. Canberras come next, then the Sukhois, Hunters and Mysteres, in that order, just over 2 per cent compared to the 1965 war. The attrition rate for Mysteres had gone up slightly in 1971 whereas that of Hunters had come down, possibly due to better tactics. The Mysteres were phased out in 1976. Considering the number of sorties flown, the loss of Maruts was the highest.
In comparison with the rate of attrition of another small but very efficient air force, that of Israel, ours in 1971 was a little higher. In Israel for the six-day war of June 1967 it was 1.4 per cent, and for the Yom Kippur war of 1973 it was 1.1 per cent. Approximately 92 per cent of all aircraft on strike missions were damaged by ground fire, that is, air defence artillery. In addition, debris from our own weapons also caused damage to 40 per cent of aircraft on strike missions. A review of tactics was certainly indicated. Techniques and tactics have to be evolved for newer, faster, more efficient aircraft progressively and continually as they are acquired. As for the human element, some enthusiastic, dedicated young pilots, in the heat of the battle do not do exactly what they are briefed to do. They take more risks than they should. They may get away with it in a number of passes, but too often ultimately they pay for it. Missionwise our losses have been highest in counter air; interdiction comes next and close support the lowest. In 1965, PAF B 57s (Canberras) did fairly well against Pathankot, Adampur and Halwara but not so in 1971. In 1971 Adampur had no attacks, Halwara had only one on the very first night. Pathankot had a number of attacks. On the whole, the attacks looked somewhat unplanned and were not really pressed home. They showed lack of accuracy and determination, and reflected adversely on morale and training. Possible causes may have been interference in, and negligence of air force matters by seniorarmy generals in power. This is a view point I have already expressed: the disadvantage of a Chief of Defence Staff, a “Supremo” in the Chiefs of Staff Committee. Also the PAF maintenance and operational organisation were possibly somewhat weakened by defection of Bengali airmen and pilots. The PAF Prisoners of War said there was shortage of spares for Chinese Mig 19.
The tally of loses shared by the three services, as given in the press handouts on 17 December, 1971 was as follows:
Pakistan
India Aircraft Tanks Field guns Destroyers
1 (Frigate) Minesweepers Submarines Gunboats Other vessels
and some by aircraft. One of the heaviest tolls was taken by the Hunters from Jaisalmer at Longewala. Another heavy loss for Pakistan was on the last two days of the war west of Sialkot between Shakargarh and Zafarwal. But during a war the opponents tend to make exaggerated claims which are not always easy to check.
In the east, every airfield was attacked by the IAF. The main air bases of East Pakistan were the two at Dhaka, viz, Tejgaon and Kurmitola and also Jessore on their western border. A little to the north of Jessore is the one at Pabna; to the north-west are Dinajpur, Thakurgaon and Lalmonirhat; to the southeast is Chittagong; and there were two or three more small ones. Apart from these bases, there were nine or ten airstrips, some of which were important such as Shamshernagar near the northern border of Tripura, and further north Sylhet.
In the western sector, the major air bases that we attacked were Sargodha, Mianwali, Murid, Peshawar, Chakjhumra Shorkot (renamed Rafiq), Chander near Hafizabad close to our border and the two near Karachi-Masroor (earlier called Mauripur) and Drigh Road and also Talahar north of Badin and Nawabshah. The two Signals Units-Sakesar in the north near the Salt Range and Badin in Sind-also received many visits from our fighter bombers.
The interdiction missions successfully destroyed or damaged about 50 trains in the western sector, 20 locomotives and about 400 wagons. When trains carrying war material were spotted, the technique was to immobilise the engine at one end and the last wagon at the other and then attack the rest between them, one by one. We also attacked nine railway junctions. In the east, the entire railway system was paralysed. About 180 river-craft were attacked, and were either destroyed or damaged. In India we are not so conscious of the importance of riverine communication and traffic, but in Bangladesh it is an important feature since there is a river, usually of no mean dimension every 10 km or so, flowing from the wide catchment area in the north to the narrow delta area in the south.
About 92,000 prisoners were taken by India. The Indian prisoners of war numbered about 1,000, although Pakistan said they were about 640. The rest could not be accounted for.
Our Defence Forces captured abut 3,200 sq kms in Ladakh but lost Chhamb in the south-west of Kashmir on the Pakistan border. Gains in the Shakargarh bulge were limited. We captured about 1,200 sq kms of area in Sind. Of course all the territory had to be given back.
Our main difficulty was lack of low level radar cover in both lair defence and close support. A visual observer system with radio sets gave some help, but that was introduced very late, on 1 December, in the west and on 2 December, in the east, using men drawn from the clerical trades. Precise information regarding targets enables the attacking aircraft to choose the right weapons and tactics. For this good intelligence is essential.
Fighter bombers and ground attack aircraft, specially when escorted by interceptors were quite effective in attacks on airfields and aircraft parked there. The problem was that of maintaining the pressure at night. The low-level pop-up bombing technique of the Canberras did not prove very effective against runways. Sukhois and Migs of TACDE proved effective but they had to be diverted from night
86
42
226
81
185
ano
In fact the figure for tanks as given by Air HQ intelligence is 253, some destroyed by ground action
Location 5088
operations to other jobs after the first three nights. It was found that limiting pilots to two sorties per day helps to keep up their stamina and efficiency.
Forward bases were built up with manpower from Training Command; 4,000 to 5,000 technicians were airlifted by the end of October. About 80 aircrew from Staff appointments and instructional posts were sent to squadrons.
Photo-intelligence is extremely necessary and valuable. An attempt was made in 1971 to make this good by fitting cameras on fighter aircraft-Hunters, Migs and Sukhois. Some photoinformation was obtained but more cover would have been helpful and welcome. More and better facilities for quick developing, printing and interpretation in the field should be arranged.
Since Advance HQs of the Air Force have to work with the Corps HQ and the Corps Commander is a Lieutenant General, the AOC of the Advance HQ should be an Air Vice Marshal and the TAC commander should be an Air Commodore (and preferably a pilot) to enable him to work harmoniously with his opposite number in the Army. Should air defence and ground support both be under the AOC Advance HQ? This was not so during 1965 but it was in 1971 with better results.
These are just a few thoughts from the technical aspect on how we could improve our operational efficiency. There are also certain psychological aspects to consider, which are inherent in the conditions of a pilot’s job. In a nutshell: An airman fights alone, the soldier and the sailor alongside many others.
Over enemy territory, and that is where the pilot of a bomber or a strike aircraft is most of the time, he must rely on his own judgement and skill to complete his task. He needs courage in himself and confidence in his machine. At best a bomber aircraft may have a crew of two or three; each has his task to perform, and they all depend on the Captain of the aircraft to get them to their target and back.
The army man, be he an infantryman or a modern cavalry man, fights in company, under orders of commanding officers and JCOs. He has others to share his danger with and from whom to take courage if need be. And he has, in most cases, means of taking shelter, deceiving the enemy or evading him.
Not so the airman who is exposed to enemy view from the moment he is airborne to the time he lands. To evade detection he flies low and fast: while reducing the likelihood of radar detection, it increases the chances of accident and damage from ground fire. About 92 per cent of all IAF aircraft engaged in strike missions suffered such damage. Pressing home an attack, as an airman must if he is to succeed in his mission against opposition, he has to summon up his innermost reserves of courage and fortitude. He needs a special kind of temperament and very intensive, demanding training. Another important factor is the inability of the airman to assess the results of his efforts. On the ground, and to some extent at sea, results are readily and clearly visible. But the ground attack and bomber Pilot can rarely see whether he has been successful or not in dealing with a target. For that he has to rely on reports from ground observers. A fighter pilot, by comparison, can have the satisfaction of seeing his opponent going down unlike the ground attack or bomber crew.
On many occasions, the airman is used to instill fear into the enemy, regardless of the damage that he may or may not inflict. Indeed, from the kinds of demands made on the IAF it would seem that a good
number are meant for that purpose, for even as they compel the enemy to keep his head down they serve as morale boosters for our own troops. This is an important consideration but such psychological gains have to be weighed against the possible loss of aircraft and aircrew. Unless there are compelling reasons to the contrary, ground targets close to the front line should be tackled by weapons organic to the Army, instead of being allotted, in the first instance, to the Air Force.
Apart from the technical and psychological aspects peculiar to each Service, there is another lesson for the three Services. The Bangladesh war demonstrated that with the three services working closely together, our armed forces were strong and decisive in their actions. Inter-Service cooperation was indeed the most important lesson of that war. Sinking Services differences, assisting one another to do the best of which each was capable, the three Services acted as one while each retained its own particular character and capabilities. I personally visited each Army Command just before the war, for personal contact and to tie up loose ends. I visited the Headquarters of Westem Command at Simla on 4 October, Southern Command at Pune on 10 November, and Eastern Command at Calcutta on 19 November. Having worked so well together it was to be hoped and expected that they would continue to strengthen these bonds. Mostly these intangible bonds consist of close personal relationships at all levels, from that of Chiefs of Staff through formation and unit commanders who have to work together, to the men on the battlefield, at sea and in the air. The National Defence Academy is an instrument for this and provides the environment in which the officer corps of the three services can develop such an understanding and relationship.
Yet, in the event, things turned out differently. Even during the Bangladesh war, with every successful action in the East, the Army Chief made public announcements and declarations that implied that he, and he alone, was responsible for whatever had been achieved. His tone become increasingly peremptory and he went so far as to say that he would “order his Air Force” to do this and that (on 14 Dec) unless Niazi surrendered. A charitable explanation would be that, the statement was made at a time of great stress and to take it to have been a slip of the tongue, a loose expression employed to intimidate the enemy. That may have been so but nevertheless it seems as though such an expression grows out of feelings that the Army is the senior service and numerically the largest, that the threats to India’s security are from its land frontiers, and that the country’s defence has to be in the hands of the Army. It follows, therefore, according to this line of thought that the Air Force should be made part of the Army and the Navy reduced in size if not liquidated altogether. Maj Gen Habibullah makes out a muddled but eloquent case for such a reorganisation in his book The Sinews of Indian Defence.
Closely linked to this line of thought, and flowing from it, is the belief that the Services would be better able to do their jobs if there were a Chief of Defence Staff to sit in permanent superiority over the three Service Chiefs. Gen Chaudhuri has made out a case for such a supremo without actually recommending one in so many words, and other army officers both before and after him have done the same. From the way Manekshaw carried on in 1971 and in the publicity that was showered on him both during the war and after, the imperession was created that he was, in fact, operating as a de facto Chief of Defence Staff even though he was at the time Chairman of the COSC (Chiefs of Staff Committee) in which
capacity he was one of three equal partners. In our daily Committee meetings his behaviour and conduct was friendly and cooperative, though he tended to ask for more information about the other two Services than he gave out about the activities of the Army, and he often made demands upon the Air Force without offering full justification for the diversion of effort from one target system to another, giving the impression that he was more concerned with ‘using the other Services to his own ends rather than collaborating with them put both Nanda and I recognised the demands being made upon the Army and the stress and strain through which Manekshaw was passing so we did not object to the way he did his work. Thus our questions about the progress, or lack of it, on the western front, in the Punjab sector, brought forth little useful information, nor could we elicit any alternative plans that the Army might have had to break the deadlock. At times it seemed that the Army could do as it wished and the Navy and Air Force would just have to help as best as they could. That we did, in full measure, for personal feelings were not allowed to interfere with the conduct of the war; the Army’s commitments were our commitments and we accepted them and acted upon them to the best of our abilities. Manekshaw’s mannerisms, as we took them to be, were not to be allowed to interfere with the work in hand.
But the supremo idea, embodied in the appintment of a Chief of Defence Staff over and above the Service Chiefs, was not far below the surface, as became apparent soon after the end of the war. I was at Chabua, near Dibrugarh, on 24 March 1972, when a telephone call came through from Delhi. Mr. P.N. Haksar, Principal Private Secretary to the Prime Minister wished to speak with me. He said that Government was considering the creation of the post of CDS and appointing Manekshaw to it in recoginition of the manner in which he had directed the Bangladesh war. My views were invited before a final decision was taken.
My comments went to Haksar that evening. I drew attention to the fact that the three Services had operated as equal partners in the Bangladesh war, and that they had demonstrated their ability to work effectively together without having a Super Chief sitting over them. I could not accept the argument that a CDS was necessary to resolve disputes between the Services because he could be expected to be impartial in his judgement. This might seem to be one way of sorting out interservice problems, but such imposed solutions were unlikely to produce satisfactory results. With such a solution, the Chiefs who had been overruled, rather than convinced through study and discussion, were unlikely to implement the CDS decision in the most effective manner. Indeed, I saw in the proposed arrangement a positive danger to frank and free discussions particularly if the CDS happened to be excessively assertive and intolerant of the ideas of others. The important thing, I maintained and do to this day, is that the Service Chiefs should function as equals and sort out their inter-Service problems, both administrative and operational, amongst themselves. Manekshaw Nanda and I had, in fact, agreed upon that at the very outset of our respective terms as Service Chiefs, and that is the spirit in which Nanda and I worked throughout the Banagladesh war and till the time we retired from our Services.
Manekshaw carried a somewhat heavier burden than Nanda or I during the war, for as Chairman of the COSC he not only presided at the daily meetings of that Committee, but also represented the Chiefs at
meetings of the Foreign Policy Planning Committee headed by D.P. Dhar. He also took it upon himself to be the COSC spokesman, a task that naturally, brought him into the limelight. But apart from the publicity that it gave him, these additional duties did not, and could not, change the nature of the COSC and the manner in which the three Services worked. For the service that he rendered to the military establishment and the nation he fully deserved the recognition given to him by his appointment as a Field Marshal. If ever a military officer deserved such a rank it is he, for he combines a quick intelligence and ready wit with a remarkable capacity for hard work and the ability to quickly grasp the ramifications of a situation. With all this, however, I do not think that he should have been appointed CDS, as was the intention early in 1972. The Chiefs of Staff Committee continues to function as before though with varying degrees of warmth or coolness between its members. It has been said that the manner in which the committee works is wholly dependent on the temperament of each Service Chief. That is true, and proof of it has been given in the last few years. Each Chief is under pressure from his own Service for its advancement in terms of equipment and manpower and, in consequence, more funds. However, physical and financial limitations together with the needs of defence, make it necessary to find acceptable solutions that may fall short of the total demands of each Service and yet provide a least-cost and best-results compromise. It is when the demands of the Services have to be assessed in this fashion that the likelihood of friction between them is the greatest; and that is the time when the Chiefs must display the understanding, tolerance and good faith that are the essential ingredients of inter-Service cooperation without which a free and frank exchange of ideas is not possible.
A conflict that reflects the absence of these qualities arose in the recent past over the improvement of the strike capability at sea of the Air Force and the Navy. Over the years, the Air Force provided the Navy with airborne maritime reconnaissance. This arrangement was accepted by both Services and continued till 1977. Special units were earmarked and trained for the purpose by the Air Force, and an organisation was built up for the planning and control of joint Navy-Air operations. These worked well in 1971 though the war showed up the limitations of the type of equipment being used for M/R. Radar-equipped Super Constellations and Avros could spot shipping at sea, but could take no offensive action if that was required. It was obvious, as it had been for many years before 1971, that a suitably equipped M/R aircraft was essential to the proper support of the Navy.
In the hands of the then Chiefs of Naval and Air Staff, this issue acquired many aspects other than that of simple re-equipment. Where the two Chiefs should have found a way of satisfying the need of the Navy while ensuring the least cost to the nation, they made the matter one of personal prestige and carried on some propaganda, each demanding that the new aircraft be placed in his Service. Eventually the dispute was referred to the Ministry of Defence, which awarded the new M/R aircraft to the Navy while the bulk of the strike element, which has no M/R capability, remained with the Air Force. Today there is an uneasy truce between the two Services, for each feels that the other has encroached upon its jurisdiction, and the tendency is for each to keep away from the other. A sorry state of affairs which, if allowed to go unchecked, could lead to further fragmentation of the Air Force since the Army has been
pressing for some time for a separate air arm under its own control.
It takes a war to make our people work together. Peace breaks them up into narrow sectional pieces. We must learn to rise above sectarian interests and work for what is best for the country.
Epilogue
For my own part, I had spent my life in the service of my country. I believe I served it sincerely and to the best of my ability. The Government gave me a Padma Bhushan for the 1965 operations and the Padma Vibhushan in 1972. When I retired from the IAF on 15 January 1973, I recieved many touching farewell messages and I felt amply rewarded. The most touching was from Wg Cdr. K.L. Johry, OC No. 33 Squadron, and the personnel of double three:
You made us touch the skies with glory and paint it with shades of red (Lal). The colours shall be fast forever. Our Pratap shall be our light in all weathers.
WITH TODAY’S COMMUNICATION NETWORK, hardly anything of importance happens in isolation no event can remain in a watertight compartment. When the massacre by West Pakistan took place in East Pakistan on the fateful night of 25 March 1971, the shock-waves were felt by the immediate neighbour, India, instantly. The ripples reached far and wide soon enough. And then the human waves followed: the halpless, homeless refugees. Averaging over 40,000 a day, an exodus of unprecedented magnitude, they numbered approximately ten million in eight months. Apart from the inhuman cruelty and sheer immorality of this genocide, it was not possible for India to accept indefinitely the socio-economic burden imposed by their presence. On 31 March 1971, the Prime Minister said in the Lok Sabha:
Farewell, Sir.
The tragedy which has overtaken our valiant neighbours in East Bengal soon after their rejoicing over the electoral victtory has united us in grief for their suffering, concern for the wanton destruction of their beautiful land and anxiety for their future… We are deeply conscious of the historic importance of the movement…. I would like to assure the honourable members who asked whether decisions would be taken on time that, obviously, that is the most important thing to do. There is no point in taking a decision when the time for it is over.
Later she said, “I must share with the House our disappointment at the improbably long time the world is taking to react to the stark tragedy.”
Again, she said:
We are convinced that there can be no military solution to the problem of East Bengal. A political solution must be brought about by those who have the power to do so. World opinion is a great force. It can influence the most powerful. The great powers have a special responsbility. If they exercise their power rightly and expeditiously, then only can we look forward to durable peace on our subcontinent. But if they fail, and I sincerely hope they will not, then the suppression of human rights, the uprooting or people and the continued homelessness of a vast number of human beings will threaten peace.
The Democratic Senator from the USA, Edward Kennedy, visited the subcontinent to make an on
spot study. “It is our military hardware, our guns, tanks and aircraft”, he said, “which are contributing to the suffering and this is being done in violation of negotiated agreements on the use of US military aid.”
In Pakistan, General Fazal Muqeem Khan has written:
June onwards there was no purpose in a military action and the futility of the fight was becoming obvious. East and West Pakistan could not be kept together by force alone… The President had placed himself in an extremely difficult political position. Having declared Mujibur Rahman a traitor and dispersed the Awami League’s Higher Command, he could not easily fill the vacuum…. However, the urgency of the situation seemed to escape the President. Later he did try to make a halfhearted attempt to recreate the central authority in the province but only with the rejected people and that too when it was too late. *
and massive problems, is probably emerging as an independent country. There is much that the US can do …” This was not the only time that the ambassador sent such a message. But the US ambassador to Pakistan, Joseph S. Farland, fell in line with Mr. Nixon’s policy.
Keating advised Rogers to Cuse the US influence on Pakistan to end the policy of military repression against the Bengali majority in East Pakistan, make a clear statement of its displeasure at the use of American arms there and insist upon the release of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, their elected leader.” He also recommended that, “termination of American military supplies and suspension of economic assistance would have a sobering effect… In short, the US has interests in India, West Pakistan and Bangladesh which probably cannot be equally served. Where the necessity for choice arises, we should be guided by the new power realities in South Asia which fortunately in the present case, largely parallel the moral realities as well.”
Foreign journalists and reporters were quickly removed from the scene in East Pakistan. But before they left they were witness to the killing of thousands of people. They heard the continuous clatter of machine guns and small arms fire and also saw large areas being put to the torch, The US Consul General sent reports of the killings which were taken to be exaggerations. The officials of the Consulate sent a petition to their own government. Blood did not sign it but he forwarded it to the appropriate authorities. Blood went home on leave in June and was not allowed to return to Dhaka to complete his tenure.
Sardar Swaran Singh, our minister for External Affairs, said that:
Pakistan was all along trying to mislead world opinion by asserting that Pakistan’s problem was with India and not with Bangladesh. Pakistan must realise that only a settlement with the representatives of Bangladesh would solve the problem. So long as it does not realise this, the activities of Mukti Bahini would increase. And if Pakistan made this an excuse to launch an attack on India, we will defend ourselves.
The Indo-Soviet Treaty of Peace and Friendship was signed on 9 August. USSR made a similar offer to Pakistan, provided they got out of SEATO, CENTO and MAP; Pakistan rejected the offer.
Mrs Gandhi went on a three-week tour, beginning 23 October, to the UK, France, West Germany, Belgium, United States and Australia. She asked for aid for the refugees and she also pleaded with these countries to use their influence to persuade the Pakistani President to work out a political settlement. But she came back disappointed.
The United States is a superpower but it did not help. The US President Mr. Richard Nixon and his political advisor, Henry Kissinger, were so keen on a rapprochement with China, and to make China an ally against the USSR, that they ignored all other considerations. The Pakistani President arranged for Mr. Kissinger’s trip to Beijing in July. Mr. Bhutto went there in November. Pakistan’s confidence in threatening India with war was thus bolstered by the US and Chinese support. Seldom or never in history has there been such a tremendous difference in attitude between the government of a country and informed public opinion.
Mr. Kenneth B. Keating was the US ambassador in Delhi in 1971 and Mr. Archer K. Blood was the US Consul General at Dhaka. A report made by Mr. Laurence Stern, Washington Post staff writer, on 6 January, 1972 discloses that a secret cable came in mid-April 1971 from Mr. Keating to the US Secretary of State Mr. William P. Rogers, which said: “Pakistan is probably finished as a unified state. India is clearly the predominant actual and potential power in this area of the world. Bangladesh, with limited potential
Why did things happen this way? The reasons given are two. One is, “President Nixon’s paramount interest in a successful Peking summit next month” [it came in February]. The second is, the “Metternichian approach of presidential foreign policy adviser Henry Kissinger, which would call for a balancing of adversary forces in Asia in a way that provide the greatest leverage for American interest.”.
Early in December, Washington suspended licensing of arms shipment to India-not that they were giving us much. When the war started, the US delegate, Mr. George Bush, at the Security Council meeting branded India as the aggressor. The Chinese delegate, Mr. Huang Hua, kept on talking about India’s interference in the internal affairs of Pakistan. China wanted a ceasefire immediately, the withdrawal of troops and UN observers to be posted there. There were fierce arguments between him and the Russian delegate, Mr. Jacob Malik. When it came to voting on the proposals, Britain, France and Belgium abstained-but France at least spoke up for Bangladesh.
Apart from the meetings of the UN General Assembly and the Security Council, the Washington Special Action Group (WSAG) had its meetings at the White House on 3,4,6 and 8 December.
The United Nations wanted to evacuate their own people from Dhaka. So on the 7th, a C 130 was given clearance by India from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m. to land at Tejgaon airport. The IAF was ordered to stop bombing, which it did the previous night, so that the craters made by the Mig 21s could be filled up. Another evacuation mission was again arranged on 12 December. The aircraft had to be cleared at Calcutta and then land at Dhaka. Similar arrangements were made at Karachi also on the same day between 8 a.m. and 12 noon.*
MY YEARS WITH THE IAF
in not exercising restraint on the military junta of Islamabad, was responsible for the tragedy in Bangladesh. She also told him that India was deeply hurt by the innuendoes and insinuations that we had precipitated the crisis. She pointed out that world powers had but paid lip-service to the need for a political solution but not a single worthwhile step was taken to bring this about.
So the war was over. Then came the revelation of the Anderson Papers-the secret summaries of the White House meetings of 3, 4 and 6 December, on the Indo-Pak crisis as given out by the journalist Mr. Jack Anderson-of the urgent advocacy of the “tilt towards Pakistan”.
“I am getting hell every half hour from the President that we are not being tough enough on India,” said Mr Kissinger (Chicago, Daily News, January 1972). President Nixon’s view was: “Everyone knows that India will ultimately occupy East Pakistan [!] …. Henceforth we show a certain coolness to the Indians. The Indian Ambassador is not to be treated at too high a level.”
Columnist Clayton Fritchey said in Los Angeles Times in January, 1972 in his article ‘White House passes the Buck’ that
At the meeting of the UN General Assembly on 8 December, again there was a call for ceasefire. Such resolutions are not mandatory, they are in the way of recommendations. Bhutan and nine communist countries sided with India. Britian and France again abstained from voting. The debate went on for seven hours, till midnight. But there was still no suggestion for a political solution.
On 9 December, Krishan Bhatia sent in a report to the Hindustan Times from Washington to say that there was slight softening of the anti-India stance that during the past two days, senior. White House and State Department officials had told newsmen that the charge of ‘aggression’ that various responsible functionaries of the administration had levelled against India recently was “unauthorised and a case of overstatement. What the US had alleged, it was pointed out, was that India had resorted to force before all avenues of a peaceful settlement had been exhausted.” Thus the US ambassador to the UN whose denunciation of India in the course of the Security Council and General Assembly debates reflected at times a touch of hysteria, was told to desist from using words such as “aggression” and “invasion” in reference to India. Mr. Nixon was anxious to avoid India and Pakistan as an issue in domestic Politics.
Mr. Harold Wilson, a former Labour Prime Minister of UK who happened to be in New York, admitted in a TV interview that he disagreed with the current US policy regarding India and Pakistan.
On 14 December, when the US Seventh Fleet with its nuclear-powered carrier Enterprise steamed into the Bay of Bengal from the Tonkin Gulf off North Vietnam, the reason given was to evacuate American civilians-who had mostly already been evacuated by air. The US Embassy in New Delhi was not given any prior notice of it. When Ambassador Keating in New Delhi wanted guidance regarding the matter, he was referred to the text of a White House press briefing of the previous day!
The president of the Indo-American Chamber of Commerce, Mr. A.L. Taylor called for an immediate reappraisal of the current US policy towards India. “The Indian government,” he said, “has exercised extreme patience and restraint for the last nine months.”
With the surrender of East Pakistan, the objective of the conflict was attained. Mrs Gandhi had shown that she was courageous and cool in adversity, now she proved level-headed in her moment of triumph. She found that India was in a position to declare ceasefire unilaterally. Mrs Gandhi consulted not only her cabinet colleagues but all the Opposition leaders were asked to the meeting also. She informed them of the situation, what she was going to do, and only then did she declare the ceasefire. By consulting the Opposition leaders she gave them importance and also made them feel, while giving them the opportunity to attend the meeting, a sense of participation in a national crisis. She displayed astute statesmanship and had the whole country with her.
At this point, Mrs Gandhi sent an impassioned letter to the US President, reminding him that the Indian soldiers had shed their blood to uphold those very values that were cherished by the people of the United States. She reiterated what she had been saying all along, and which President Nixon did not believe, that India had no territorial ambition and therefore, further bloodshed was not called for. She asked whether it would not have been far better to negotiate with one man, that is Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, rather than wage a war. She went on to say that it was a failure of the US administration which,
trying to counter the Anderson papers which raise so many questions about the administration’s mishandling of the Indian Pakistani crisis, the White House has now resorted to leaking against its own State Department. It’s an unseemly performance… The diplomatic reporting on the Indian Pakistani conflict was impeccable. For months, the messages from the US ambassador in New Delhi, Kenneth Keating, could hardly have assessed the situation better if he had a crystal ball. He not only foresaw the outcome but had the courage to warn against Mr Nixon’s pro-Pakistani policy.
I think it is worthwhile quoting the views of one more eminnent American who spent two tenures as ambassador to India (1949 to 1951 and again from 1963 to 1969) – Mr. Chester Bowles. In his article, ‘Five Lessons From Our Disaster in South Asia’ (Washington Post, 30 January 1972) he criticises the Nixon government for suppressing information and ignoring recommendations sent by their own people. He asks: “How can these blunders be explained?” There are many versions from which to choose. “Some critics genuinely believe that a naive, weary and poorly informed President was charmed off his feet by a succession of Pakistani generals with British accents and a taste for golf, polo and dry martinis.”.
The second possibility was that the US government in its preoccupation with Vietnam and Middle East, “failed to recognize the growing danger in South Asia. When it finally hit the headlines, they promptly lost their tempers over the irritating, difficult Indians.”
The third reason was Mr. Nixon’s anxiety to establish a rapport with China through Pakistan. Mr. Bowles says that he himself was a proponent for improving relations with China. But he says, “The United States faces the hard fact that it is the Soviet Union, not China that now and for the next decade or so has the capacity to destroy us. Consequently the strengthening of our fragile relationship with the Soviets…. must remain a primary objective of the US foreign policy regardless of what the Chinese may say
* Fazal Muqeem Khan, Pakistan’s Crisis in Leadership, National Book Foundation, Islamabad, 1973, p. 116.
or do in Peking or elsewhere.”
The five lessons he enumerates are:
*I recieved a letter from Sir Terence Garvey, the British High Commisioner in Delhi dated 12 December, which I quote:
“Dear Air Chief Marshal,
The Royal Air Force made four flights from Calcutta into Dacca and back today, bringing out the British community and a number of other foreign nationals.
This operation, now successfully concluded, would never have been possible without the very great help, forbearance and patience shown by yourself and your staff. Please accept this expression of our very deep appreciation and gratitude.
We are also much in your debt for help in arranging the evacuation flight from Karachi and Islamabad.
Firstly, the aspirations of poverty-stricken nations are more powerful than machine guns, phantom jets and gun-boat diplomacy.
Secondly, the US should refuse to supply military equipment in situations where this would upset delicate power balances or escalate existing conflicts.
Thirdly, we should abandon the myth that loyalty can be purchased with economic aid and concentrate our aid on those nations that will use it responsibly and effectively to build a better life for all their people.
Fourthly, we should give support to those nations that are genuinely striving to build democratic societies and avoid undermining them by expedient deals with their antidemocratic rivals.
Above all, we should resist the temptation to play the Soviet Union and China off against each other. We must learn to live peacefully with both.
Yours v. sincerely, Sd/- Terence Garvey”
India and Bangladesh, both owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to Mr. Anderson for his honest and courageous act and to other likeminded Americans. But when all this is said and done, I feel one more point remains unsaid. Pakistan is inexorably caught up in US plans for Middle East oil and the security of the region that produces it. And inevitably India cannot remain unaffected.
Pakistan offers the US a solid base for its Rapid Deployment Force, a base from which US forces can intervene in the Middle East, though conditions in which they would do so are difficult to foresee. Neither the Arab states nor Iran are likely to ask for US military assistance, and if they fight amongst themselves – as Iraq and Iran have been doing since September 1980-then how can the US intervene unless it is asked to? And if that unlikely situation were to arise, would the Russians sit quietly in Afghanistan? The Russians have no base adjacent to the Persian Gulf such as Pakistan can provide to the USA, but they are in South Yemen and Ethiopia and along the east coast of Africa. Given sufficient cause they could intervene militarily with their own forces and also unite those of their surrogates. World War III might well follow.
But is that likely? Does Middle East oil mean that much to the US? Would denial of it by the USSR give the US sufficient reason to launch World War III?
And how will that denial be brought about? Through internal conflicts within the States of the Middle East as in Saudi Arabia in 1979? By conflicts between the states of Iraq and Iran or between Arab states such as Iraq and Kuwait? Speculations…
1. Air Headquarters is responsible for the fitness of the Air Force to do its job. It has charge of the men and machines, their tranining and maintenance and the plans for their employment. But while it carries the full responsibility, its authority is limited.
Appendix A
a) Policy is in the hands of the Ministry of Defence. b) Funds are with the Financial Adviser, Ministry of Finance. c) Matters of detail-location of squadrons, promotion of officers, use of motor-transport and the like are also subject to
approval by the Ministries of Defence and Finance.
Comment on I.A.F. Maintenance Support (Appendix F to Report of Committee on Maintenance Services 433/63 dated 8 March 63.)
A slow logistic system and inadequate manning levels militate against achieving the best potential with existing equipment…. Management functions of planning, programming, direction and control would require a complete management improvement programme if effective support to modern combat force is to be realised. Basic improvements such as effective communications, transportation and streamlined methods and procedures are urgently required.
2. The Air Force is thus subject to joint control by three parties, that is, Ministries of Defence and of Finance and Air Headquarters, though the last carries the responsibility for its efficiency. To get anything done, these three parties must agree and support each other. Yet, in fact, that happens but rarely and then possibly under the stress of an emergency. Thus Air HQ has to initiate a proposal for approval by the Ministries of Defence and Finance. In nine cases out of ten, the Ministry of Defence will question the necessity for it and, if that is accepted, the manner in which the job should be done. If these hurdles are passed, the proposal must go to Finance for funds. Finance will raise further objections and suggest modifications, calling upon Air HQ all the time to prove its case. The attitude of Finance is as if it were outside the Defence organisation, without any responsibility for the working of the Air Force, as if it were an inquisitor or a judge with an interest transcending all responsibilities for the performance of the job itself.
Weakness in Air Force Maintenance
1. Technical officers and men need:
a) More training, especialy refresher courses. b) Better regulated postings which match the men to the job. c) Continuity in jobs.
3. In order to improve the efficiency of the Defence organisation, it is not necessary to open new offices or change the organisational structure. Much of the present delay and inefficiency could be removed simply by making the Ministries of Defence and Finance realise that they bear a part of the responsibility for seeing that the Air Force does its job properly and on time. Where anything is an doubt it should be settled by discussion among three equal and responsible bodies, rather than by the Air Force being subjected to an endless inquisition to prove its case to the ministries.
2. Training of technical officers is given a) on joining at TTC (Technical Training College) and b) adhoc courses for particular types of aircraft or equipment.
Cost and Economy
There is no means of keeping them up to date as a matter of routine, nor is there any means of periodically checking their technical proficiency. Moreover, duties of technical officers at squadrons, wings, stations and higher forums are such that they have to spend a great deal of time at their desks and so get very little practical experience of maintaining aircraft and equipment.
To ensure higher technical standards, junior technical officers (Pilot Officers, Flying Officers, Flight Lieutenants) should be made to:
All proposals involving expenditure of funds are subject to very minute scrutiny by the Ministry of Finance and many objections are raised. All economy seems to be in this hair-splitting, penny-pinching approach. Yet the larger implication is often ignored or presumably sometimes is not even understood. For example, increase of Packet aircraft, and funds for buying them were approved. But the Ministry was unable to agree to sanction of increased funds for overhaul of engines for it with the result the total effort continued more or less as before while aircraft utilisation was actually reduced.
The people concerned have no idea of the cost of operations of air craft. Study of this aspect is very essential in order to estimate the cost of maintaining and operating the Air Force. Costing on commercial basis is neither feasible nor necessary but it should be possible to assess, for instance, the direct variable costs such as fuel per hour, spares for daily maintenance and overhaul per hour, cost of labour for daily maintenance and overhaul per hour on the one hand and the indirect costs on the other.
a) Spend more time with their machines. Squadron, Wing and Station Commanders should keep check of this. Technical Officers
should keep personal log-books to show jobs done and time spent on actual technical work in shops or field as distinct
from office work. b) Promotion exams should be held to cover technical subjects in detail. c) At least one refresher or specialisation course should be compulsory during the period as P Offr, Fg Offr and Flt Lt before
promotion to Squadron leader. d) Is it possible to have a categorisation scheme and annual checks for Engineering Officers? e) There is much talk of “Spares Problem”. Actually the problem is that of Technical Efficiency-low technical efficiency,
incomplete and/or inaccurate workmanship leading to higher wastage and excessive consumption of spares, and in our limited resources, shortage of spares, which our Technical and Equipment staff take panic measures to rectify. This leads to further confusion and lowering of technical standards,
Aircraft Reserves
1. The DTS (Director of Tenhnical Services) should review the 12/2% Maintenance Reserve now allowed for all aircraft by AOPP (Air Officer. Policy and Plans) in his planning.
2. The MR (Maintenance Reserve) figure to be used for any particular aircraft should be determined after a detailed technical study has been made of a new aircraft before its introduction, and indeed before signing the contract for it.
USAF Technical Team under Col Ramsay to Jammu and Pathankot on 28 and 29 March 1963 reports well of first and second line maintenance there on Packets, “excellent”, “thorough”, “by the book,” etc. In that case, where does deficiency lie? At higher technical levels, Base Repair Depots, at HAL or Air Headquarters?
3. Reserve engines should also be worked out by the DTS before aircraft is bought.
Provisioning and Higher Control of Air Force
4. Reserve holdings should be reviewed periodically every two or three years on actual performance.
Provisioning
Identification is necessary of fast and slow moving items, consumable and rotables and low and high value equipment. On introduction of an aircraft this has to be done:
Appendix: B
a) On Manufacturer’s recommendations. b) On the Buyer’s and User’s own engineering evaluation, depending on
– one’s own experience with similar equipment in the past and – study of the particular item.
The Escape Story
As experience is gained with the aircraft, original estimates should be reviewed on basis of actual consumption and subsequent provisioning modified accordingly.
At the same time, obsolete, redundant and unrepairable equipment should be segregated and disposed of so that as far as possible only active items claim attention of technical and Equipment Departments.
Air Officer Policy & Plans (AOPP) and Technical Affairs
AOPP is at present responsible, amongst other things, for testing and evaluating of aircraft and related equipment. The Aircraft and Armament Testing Unit has been placed under the AOPP for that reason.
The technical part of testing and evaluation is of major concern to the Director of Technical Service (DTS). It is for him to see what is done, how successful it is, what further modifications and changes are necessary for an aircraft. The directive for such testing should be from the DTS and the work should be done under his supervision.
The same applies to other matters where Technical staff have a major say. For instance, when a few defects were first noticed in the Gnats, the CAS called upon the DTS for action. But subsequently when the work of HAL and Aircraft and Armament Testing Unit (A & A TU) had to be coordinated, the AOPP took over.
AOPP has no technical staff. He must, presumbly, consult the DTS in technical matters. This merely adds a weak link in the chain and delays matters in the name of coordination. I suggest that the DTS be responsible for all technical evaluation, testing and coordination with AOPP.
A Supply System Review Committee (SSRC) was set up in the middle of 1963. A revision of the trade structure was initiated, specially keeping an eye on the importance of continuity of technical officers and men at their jobs, according to the type of aircraft.
Twelve of our pilots had to eject in West Pakistan during the war. Two of them were repatriated earlier than the others because of ill-health and injuries. Three tried to escape from the POW camp in Rawalpindi on 12 August 1972. They made an excellent attempt but unfortunately were detected just about three miles short of the Afghan border.
Flt Lt Harish Sinhji, of No. 29 Squadron was one of them. On the afternoon of 5 December, 1971 he was flying from Sirsa towards Suleimanke. Flt Lt Dawar was number one, he was number two. Short of Suleimanke, they turned north across the Sutlej and climbed down looking for opportunity targets as they had been directed by the Signals Unit. Dawar started a left turn, facing west and Harish followed. Harish heard, and felt, an explosion. His aircraft lurched and went on to its back. There was a tremendous tearing sound. The controls jammed. He pressed the rudder manually with all his might, the aircraft levelled out but then went into a shallow dive. He was about 800 m above the ground over Haveli, with heavy ack-ack. So he tried to delay ejection and saw his leader, already fairly far away, going southwards, a speck in the sky. Harish called out over the radio, “Dawar, I am ejecting.” No answer. The radio was dead.
Harish probably blacked out for a while. When he regained consciousness, he felt he was dreaming- a “dream of a golden coloured cotton field – fields of cotton glowing in the afternoon sun”. Perhaps it was a movie? Why was he feeling terrible? Oh no! He was jerked back into full consciousness; This was war and he was in Pakistan. Above him his parachute billowed and down below, he saw a big column of dust and smoke, that was his aircraft. As he came closer to the ground he saw two trees in the field looming larger and larger. Desperately he tugged the cords to manipulate his parachute away from them. He missed the trees but not the chute. The big orange and white piece of silk hung on one tree, very conspicious, and he landed. His left leg started hurting but the pain was not unbearable and his back seemed unhurt.
He could see no one. The first thing he wanted to do was tear up the call-sign card. Of course, the moment anyone was missing, the callsign was automatically changed but in that semi-dazed state that was his reflex. What he actually tore up was his mother’s letter. Next he thought of tearing up his identity card, but for some reason or other he did not.
He was wondering whether to hide in the field till it was dark and then try to make for the border when, within minutes, he heard and then saw in the distance thirty or forty people coming. In the fields, the crops stood tall and he ran into a track through the crop. Suddenly he realised that he still had his mask and helmet on which made it very awkard. While still running he took them off and threw them away. After a while, when he was exhausted, with perspiration streaming down, his throat and mouth parched and dry, he dived into the crops and hoped and prayed that he would not be found. It was a vain hope-a man was standing right there whom Harish had not noticed. The man shouted and soon the crowd caught up. Harish saw a man swinging an axe and coming at him and resigned himself to his fate. Some others stopped the man with the axe but there was no dearth of beating, kicking and abusing. And they kept shouting: “Where is the other pilot?” Ultimately they had to accept that there was no other pilot. Then suddenly the frenzy stopped. They grabbed him, tied his hands and blind-folded him. Stalling for time, he asked for some water to drink…
He heard a vehicle drive up, a jeep, and a voice asked in English, “A Flight Lieutenant?”
Editor’s Note: In this context, it may be worthwhile quoting from a letter of the AOM in 1984 (Air Mshl S.K. Lal, son of late Shri Bhagat Bihari Lal, the instructor at the Delhi Flying Club from whom Pratap received his flying training) when I sought his views regarding the relevance of these thoughts today:
Undoubtedly these papers contain some valuable comments which were indeed relevant in the context of the time frame in which these were made by late Air Chief Marshal P.C. Lal. However, over the years, many weaknesses and lacunae which were then pointed out have been removed as a result of various measures taken. The credit for these no doubt goes to visionaries like him who thought so much ahead of their time.
The trade structure of the Air Force has undergone several changes, the latest being the streamlining carried out in 1977. However, the SSRC was indeed the first expert body which looked into this important subject in its totality and I have no hesitation to state that the process of reorganisation of trade structure owes its origin to the wisdom of the late Air Chief Marshal P.C. Lal, who initiated this through the SSRC report of 1963.
I would also like to confirm that the SSRC report was implemented during the years from 1965 to 1970. While the principles underlying the SSRC report are basically relevant even today, the detailed recommendations made at that time and implemented as stated above were valid for the period around which these were made.
“Yes!” “From where?” “I won’t tell you.” “Your friend has been caught and shot.” Of course he had no one with him. He turned the tables on his questioner and asked, “What is your name?” “Jimmy,” was the answer.
Harish was made to sit on the floor of the jeep which then jolted along on a kutcha track for about half-an-hour. Then the jeep stopped. Someone attended to his injured leg and a kindly Lt Col gave him a a cigarette. Then still with his hands tied behind him and blindfolded, he
was put in a truck. There he was asked his name, rank, service number and date of birth. Harish mentioned the Geneva Convention but was told to shut up. “What squadron are you from?” Some one demanded. Answer – “Delta squadron”.
Then the truck started on a long drive and it was getting dark and cold. When it stopped they brought in two other prisoners, Subedar Nur Mohammad and Sepoy Ali Akbar, both from some tank unit. The Pakistanis were surprised to know that Indian Muslims, they called them Kafirs, joined the Army willingly, they had thought that the Indian Muslims were made to join the army at gun-point! One might ask what loyalty a country can expect to have from men on the battlefield if they are put there at gun-point? In fact, Nur Mohammad was awarded the Vir Chakra when he was still a POW. Then another POW was brought into the truck, Captain Malhotra or Mehrotra. A Pakistani Army Captain took command of the truck and they started off again. It may have been 7 or 8 p.m. They drove till 2 a.m. or so and it got bitterly cold. The guard was kind enough to share his blanket with Harish whose hands were now tied in front
When they arrived at their destination, their eyes were uncovered. The place was possibly Montgomery Central Jail. Here the prisoners were told to deposit their valuables, including watches, which of course they never saw again. They were locked up in cells with mud floors, given a blanket each and a pitcher of water but no cup or glass to drink from. They lay down in the darkness, in solitary confinement, lonely, cold, insecure.
In the morning Harish asked for a chair to sit on and a glass to drink water from, but neither was provided. For breakfast a man came around with a sack of chanas (gram or chick-peas). Harish put some in his pocket. Then some photohraphs were taken.
At around 10 a.m. an Air Force officer, a Wing Commander, came to interrogate him. Two chairs were brought and tea and some biscuits. The bits and pieces of paper that Harish had thrown away-his mother’s letter and an old bill of the Tea Club at Hindon along with the names of several officers-were produced. He was asked, “There were two Mig squadrons there-29 and 49. Which one are you from?”. Harish did not speak. He was threatened with the third degree and let off for the time being.
At mid-day it started again. “Come on. Which squadron are you from?” Harish hesitated. They used a cycle tyre like a whip on him. “Which squadron?”
draw diagrams of the bases at Sirsa and Hindon. He drew the runway correctly but the rest of it wrong. Two weeks later they said they had lost the paper, so could he draw it again? Again he drew it wrong. Three or four days later they showed him a correct drawing.
The Pakistanis seemed worried about the missiles and the radar units. At times they ill-treated San Ldr Jafa, who had hurt his spine and was in plaster, for this information. They interrogated him right through the night, not letting him sleep, not letting him sit, making him miss a meal. They tried to be sweet to the Sikh POWs: “For the next round, friends, Pakistan and Khalistan will be together against India” was the propaganda, but the Sikh officers of the IAF did not fall for it. Once two Wing Commanders, Hakimullah Durani and Nosey Khan, from a Mirage squadron came to enquire about the performance of the Mig 21s, their speed and the altitude they can go to. To begin with, the PAF officers were very reserved and cautious when speaking to the Indian POWs but after some months, they relaxed a little. They said then that during the war, they felt bad about not being allowed to go out and fight.
Apparently Yahya Khan’s decision was that the PAF aircraft should not be exposed to any damage till IAF aircraft were reduced in strength by attrition, possibly by ack-ack. One PAF officer once sent the POWs a meat dish cooked at home. After the Simla talks with Bhutto, the POWs were given a TV set and the allowance for their rations was doubled.
Over to Harish.
Escape Attempt from Rawalpindi POW Camp Wg Cdr Harish Sinhji
“29” “How many squadrons are there in the IAF?” “Sixty squadrons.” And so it went on.
Lunch was dry chapatis and dry chanas. Then another long drive until sunset, again handcuffed and blind-folded. At the destination, one sharp slap on the back. But that was the last of the rough handling.
The prisoner was thrown into a room, a portion of which was like a cage. “Have you eaten anything?” somebody asked. “Only biscuits.” “What would you like to eat?”. “Anything but beef.”
Some tomato sandwiches were brought in. Harish’s hands were freed and a blanket was provided. He wrapped himself in it and lay down to sleep.
Morning of the 7th. Another vehicle. Another long ride. The Army POWs were sent to Lyallpur and the Air Force ones to Rawalpindi. En route, another POW was put on the vehicle. That was Flt Lt Aditya Vikram Pethia, moaning and groaning, in a daze. Drove the whole day and arrived at Pindi. Lodged in Cell No 3 in the Provo and Security Flight. There were offices and more cells. For the night, the cement floor was the bed but with a mattress and a couple of blankets. Given a mug of water to drink. The ceiling of the room was high. There were no windows but there were ventilators and two doors. One door had bars, the other was of wood with a hole covered with a piece of cardboard.
Sometime in the last week of August, 1972, in an obscure corner of Pakistan Times, was an insignificant news item. It said that three Indian POWs escaped from Rawalpindi camp but were promptly recaptured at Noashera. However, the facts were different. The POWs had almost reached the Khyber pass and their recapture was not the result of an efficient search attempt, but merely an accident. We were 12 IAF pilots who were taken as POWs in the 1971 conflict: Wg Cdr B.A. Coelho, San Ldr D.S. Jafa, San Ldr Kamat, Flt Lt Tejwant Singh, Flt Lt Bhargava, Flt Lt Dilip Parulkar, Flt Lt M.S. Grewal, Flt Lt Aditya Vikram Pethia, Fg Offr Chati, Fg Offr K.C. Kuruvilla, Fg Offr H.N.D. Mulla Feroze and myself, a Flight Lieutenant in 1971. Of these two were returned to India on the sick and wounded list, i.e., Mulla Feroze in February 72 and Vikram in July 72. And then we were ten.
Each POW was kept in solitary confinement till Christmas Day when we met each other and felt good. Thereafter, every day for a short spell we would be allowed to meet in a Cell-Cell No.4 if I remember right. This was the largest of all, it was an ordinary room converted into a cell by installing bars on the windows and door. The POW camp was in fact the Provost & Security Flight, Rawalpindi, commanded by San Ldr Usman Hamid. Usman was a very decent bloke and we got to like him quite a bit.
In those days there was talk of repatriation every now and then. Mostly it started with the PAF police corporals. One of them would whisper that talks are going on and repatriation would take place within a fortnight, and our hopes would rise. The fortnight would pass and hopes would crash-only to cling to the next such rumour. This tide-like activity of our hopes carried on throughout December 21, January, February and March 72. I think it was then that D.P. Dhar came to Muree for talks. When we found that we did not feature in those talks. We resigned ourselves to wait developments that would lead to our repatriation whenever it was destined. At this time the thought of escape was nowhere in our minds-save one.
From around the middle of January 72, we were allowed to spend some hours every day in the open in a walled area about 25 m by 40 m. Here we basked in the winter sun, played ‘seven tiles’ or gossipped.
In the morning a smartly dressed Corporal, Rizvi, delivered essentials, such as tooth brush and paste. Breakfast was daal, one paratha and tea. They soon learnt to eat the paratha slowly so that the pleasure would last them for a while. For three weeks, until Christmas it was solitary confinement. Meals were vegetarian with tandoori rotis.
The interrogation was not him even when caught bluffing. Their intelligence was very good. They knew the number of Harish’s squadron, the name of his CO and other officers and the fact that Sirsa had No. 12 FBSU (Forward Base Support Unit). They asked him to
Once, before the end of January, while we were squatting in this courtyard, Flt Lt Dilip Parulkar whispered that there was some hope of escape as he had discovered that a bar in his cell (No.4) was a bit loose.
At that time, filled with the complete confidence of being repatriated within a few days, we found Dilip’s statement nothing more than a crude attempt at impressing us that he had at least thought of escape. We thought that by saying this he would, after repatriation, blow it into a heroic yarn and so win a lot of admirers. No one took him seriously, we merely felt a bit disgusted. What we did not know, however, was that Dilip had expressed, years ago, a wish to become a POW. This so that he would get a chance to escape…he had said that it bothered him that none of the escape stories he had read concerned Indian heroes!
Thereafter, we often heard Dilip talk of his windows till one day, during a routine check, it was discovered and repaired. Dilip, meanwhile, set about getting hold of a map. For this he got the Camp Commandant, San Ldr Usman, to talk about his trips and experiences abroad. He mentioned that after repatriation he, too, was planning a trip. Would Usman help him plan the route? Could he get hold of an atlas…perheps a school atlas? He kept hounding Usman till one day Usman slipped him an atlas and said he would sit with him later and plan the ‘holiday
At this stage, Providence made the first of its numerous appearances. Usman was posted out as ADC to the Chief of Air Staff-and in the excitement he left his atlas behind. The new Commandant was San Ldr Wahid-ud-din, a tall ‘l’ specialist, originally of flying cadre but grounded some time ago. The Red Cross visits had commenced at the end of January, 72 and, by and by, we were able to get some sunshine for a few hours a day, some old books, and a volleyball and net. We even got a transistor radio around the end of February.
As the months passed, the guards, and locals relaxed and started taking things for granted. Security measures deteriorated. And Dilip capitalised on each opportunity. The first thing he did was to recruit Grewal. Garry was an old friend of Dilip’s and more important, he was also astoundingly strong. To get Garry into Dilip’s cell did not prove much of a problem mainly because of the neat way in which Jafa and Dilip handled the guards. They literally had them feeding out of their hands. Since Cell No. 4 was large enough for more, and had a fireplace, Chati, too, moved in. His reasons were medical, for he could warm his wounded arm there every night. Since Chati was now in the same cell, he, too, was in on the escape.
Plans were based on a study of the Indo-Pak map. They planned to get out at night, walk westwards past a railway-road crossing about 8 to 10 km away, then head north and hit the hills. Thereafter they would be able to hide in the hills during daylight hours and walk by night. An east-north-easterly direction would be good and the Jhelum river would have to be crossed. From there, up the hills again to cross the border somewhere between Uri and Poonch. It involved walking in the hills for about 100 km. A compass, some clothing, food and water were essential. And a haversack would be a great help. The PAF jailers used to give us our pay in cash instead of coupons as did the Army jailers. So we collected a bit of money, particularly from the non-smokers. Incidently, the pay as authorised by the Geneva Convention was about
Rs. 60 at that time. Later, due to the Pak Rupee being devalued, it went up.
By the time this stage was reached, D.P. Dhar had come and gone, and it was about April, 72. As for me, every time I looked up at the sky I felt like breaking free. But since I was quite skinny then, I wondered whether Dilip would permit me to join in. Since I could only know by asking, one day I said to him, “Dilip, if you think I will not be, a liability, please do consider letting me come along. Incidently, I did very well in the Jungle and Snow Survival course.” The next day, when Jafa was told of my request, he raised his eyebrows doubtfully at me. I bluffed that I had come first in the J&SS Course and that the report said that although I looked weak I coped up extremely well. Although only partially reassured, Jafa gave his OK. To get me into Cell No. 4, we requested the guards to let the four of us play bridge till late as we couldn’t sleep. They agreed. This was repeated for three or four nights and thereafter eveyone thought I had got official permission to shift to Cell No. 4.
The camp was a tiny one. A small road turned off the Rawalpindi-Peshawar road. This was known as the Mall. About 100 yds after leaving the highway the P&S Flight gate came on the left. Inside, on the left was the guards office where the Police Corporal on duty used to sit. Then there were about four proper cells and a bathroom.
The ‘gully between Cell No. 4 and the lavatory was a narrow gap between the two buildings. The southern end of the gully had barbed wire. Beyond the barbed wire was the compound of a Recruiting office and petrol pump. In other words, freedom lay beyond the barbed wire or behind Cell No. 4, and the security of this region was left to the chowkidar of the petrol pump. But from within, the guards would frequently look into the gully during their rounds.
Towards Islamabad
& @shawa
Towards -Rawalpindi Centro
C
sma
GT ROAD, HIGHWAY
roatia Pump
Recruiting
Ļ Office Barbed wire
– Escape from this place Interrogation
o Airmen’s Dathroom Call Room
Mass Guard & Gilets.
Camp
Kitchen lain Gate
office, etc. WY
SILOS
THE MALL, RAWALPINDI
ROOM
Coomando
providentialıy, two shirts and a pair of trousers. Clothing in parcels is not permitted, but here it was! So before anyone could say ‘Jack Robinson’, these items were hidden under Dilip’s mattress. Apart from these, Dilip had quietly managed to get a light green kurta pyjama stitched from his monthly allowance. This was achieved with the assistance of a local lascar by giving him a line about the need for comfort and a tip. So our clothing was fixed. Dilip would wear the green kurta pyjama. Gary would get the light brown terylene shirt and blue woolen pants. I got the greenish blue shirt and would wear the same brown pants that all POWs were issued. For footwear there was no choice-we would wear canvas shoes.
We all decided to carry our POW Identity Cards, so that as a last resort we may seek protection under the Geneva Convention. We chose identites for ourselves. Dilip was LAC John Masih, Gary LAC Ali Ameer, both of PAF Station, Lahore. Since my Urdu was worse than my Hindi, I posed as Mr. Harold Jacob, an Anglo Pakistan drummer working with Flamingo Band, La Bella Hotel, Hyderabad. I was to have given a performance in Lahore where I made friends with these two airmen.
Our gear could not have been prepared but for the tremendous support and enthusiasm of Kamat. Kamy had fractured each leg in two places and both were in plaster. Had it not been so, he would surely have been with the gang. Stuck in this predicament, he rendered invaluable assistance. He improvised a compass by using transistor batteries, a bit of wire, some polythene, and magnetising a needle which he passed through a pressbutton from the issue shirt so as to provide a point for balancing it. When this pressbutton-needle was balanced at the head of a ball pen nib, the needle swung around to show north. The needle was carried within the pen itself. Wg Cdr Coehlo drew out a compass rose to go with this.
Then we got hold of Chati’s parachute on the pretext of repairing the volley ball net with the nylon cords in the chute. Using the silk of the parachute, Kamy stitched two neat haver-sacks and we got a piece of parachute which we could use to cover ourselves with… unfortunately this had some of Chati’s bloodstains on it. For water we removed the ‘G’ bags from a French ‘G’ sult. After filling it with water we put it into a pillow case. For food we carried mainly dry fruits and condensed milk. The latter was from the Red Cross parcels.
Around mid-July the work commenced. We started removing the filling between the bricks. This task done by Dilip and Gary by turn. Chati and I kept track of the guards. We gave ‘KV’ whispers to signal danger and clear’ for go ahead. This work commenced at about 2200 hrs after a sham bridge session. First the bulb was removed, then the bed was shifted to make room for the digger to lie down. Around 0200 hrs the work generally stopped; the dust was collected into empty gift cartons and the bricks replaced. This scraping was done with various implements-a table knife, the barber’s scissors, a pointed piece of iron and, most successful of all, a screwdriver. Every second or third morning, the dust boxes’ would be exchanged for gift boxes in the store cell.
The last brick was removed on 27 July 1972. It appeared that a thin layer of plaster was all that was left and that a knock would bring it down.
On Friday, 28 July 1972, Dilip wanted to go. Gary wanted to wait another two weeks because once again there were rumours, and hopes, of repatriation. This was when Dilip expressed his innermost
TO
bball
hh
Court
tyatd
Guard
ces Kamat & Kuruvilla’s call
(approx)
NUMBER 3 PROVO & SECURITY Norting FLIGHT, near RAWALPINDI. Sketch is not to scale
Around this time, while playing volley ball, Chati sprained his ankle rather badly. In addition, an old tooth injury turned septic and he started getting fever. San Ldr Jafa gave this development a good thought and decided that Chati would not go. Instead, the unenviable but essential task of showing signs of life in the Cell after the escape fell upon him.
Luck seemed to favour us for one day Dilip received a parcel from his sister and in it were, quite
Location 5050
feelings, “I do not want go back through repatriation. If the repatriation is tomorrow, I will attempt an escape today! We have wasted enough time already!” When he asked me for my opinion I said that tomorrow would be a better day as the next day would be a Sunday and the search attempts would have a slower start. But Dilip was determined, and so we all got ready to go. We removed the bulb, and filled the ‘G’ bag with water. We packed our rations and dressed up in our ‘Civvies’. We made dummies in our beds and covered them with our blankets and bid Chati farewell. We made some sketch maps showing that we were heading south to Sind, crumpled them up and threw them into a corner of the room to mislead the inevitable search party.
Gary got down to break the plaster layer. It seemed a bit hard. So he pushed with all his might. It would not budge! By then luckily, it began to rain. Gary kicked with his muscular heel. No joy. Then he got hold of a cricket bat lying in the Cell, and made a desperate attempt. He banged and banged. A small fistsized hole appeared.
Just then I saw a guard running through the rain towards us. I gave the KV signal and everyone leapt into bed, alongside the dummies. Old Shamsuddin, the guard, came straight for the light switch which was located outside the cell door. “Click. Click. Click. Click.” We asked Shamsuddin very casually if anything was wrong, and why he was roaming about in the rain at this time of the night. He only muttered that the light was duff. Hearing all our voices, he seemed to be a bit puzzled. We added quickly that we had complained about the bulb just that evening. By and by he calmed down and went towards the guard room. We did a supersonic undressing and were ready for him if he came back with the keys. But he did not return. What we had thought to be a film of plaster had turned out to be a thick layer of cement.
Before going further, I’ll make a small clarification on the duffing operation itself. The southern wall of Cell 4 was selected. A rectangle was marked out close to the barbed wires near the floor. Except when work was in progress, a bed with blankets draped over the sides so that the rectangle was completely concealed was placed next to the wall. A row of shoes and slippers was neatly placed just under the bed to discourage the sweeper. We kept the cell clean and normally turned the sweeper back on this pretext.
Now we had a problem on our hands-a fist-sized hole was visible on the rear wall of Cell No. 4. We knew that the employees of the recruiting office parked their bicycles along this wall. It was now a question of luck-and lady luck was on ourside. For over two weeks the hole was not noticed: nobody suspected a thing.
The scraping operation was again done by Gary and Dilip. by turns, they scraped the periphery of the rectangle to get the borders thin enough so that the block could eventually be knocked out. As a precaution, we had stuffed a bit of parachute cloth into the hole. One, night, Dilip was on the job and after the preliminary bit of work of removing the bricks, we found he was very still for a longish time. After a while he whispered, “Somebody’s on the other side of the wall! He’s pulling the cloth!” Dilip also had a grip on the cloth and an intermittent tug of war went on. All of us inside the cell were in a sweat. We anticipated that after playing cat and mouse with us for a while, the person would come around and the game would be over.
In the midst of this tenseness, the cloth was pulled so suddenly that Dilip could not hold on. He whispered, “He’s pulled the cloth off!” We wanted to jump into bed and pretend everything was normal, but Dilip stayed down and tried to peer though the hole. Again there was a tense pause until Dilip hissed, “It’s that damned Cat!” referring to the stray cat we used to frequently feed with powdered milk. With a tremendous sense of relief we resumed the work.
All this while, I had kept one thought unexpressed-I had just about been included in the escape, I did not want to voice my dread of drowning since the plan included a crossing of the Jhelum. When I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer I casually told Dilip that I did not know how to swim. Dilip said that I needn’t worry, for I could fill the ‘G’ suit bag with air and float on the Jhelum while Dilip and Gary would tow me across. I said fine but I didn’t like the idea at all. In addition, around this time there were plenty of reports of Mujahids and Pak army men being blown up by mines. We realised that the area was heavily mined but at this point our attitude was: “Our minds are up-don’t confuse us with facts!” We brushed this obstacle aside with a vague plan of tying a plank to a bamboo pole and beating the ground ahead before crawling or walking over it.
That was the state of things while we continued the scraping operations. By the end of the first week of August, when we were ready to go, Gary came down with fever and so we had to hold our horses.
The next lot of parcels included a batch of books. Having nothing better to do I picked up a book called, Murray’s book of Travel for India, Pakistan, Burma and Ceylon. Going through it I found several sketch maps one of which was Rawalpindi, Peshwar and beyond the Khyber pass. I happened to glance at the scale, and was rather astounded to find that the distance from Peshawar to the border was only about 24 miles-and, joy of joys, there were no rivers to cross! I remembered the guards mentioning that there were night buses on that route. It seemed too good to be true. Standing near the cell door, I showed Dilip the sketch map and volunteered: “I feel this is a better route. No Mujahids, mines or rivers. What do you feel?” Dilip paused, and and I could hardly believe it when he said, “That makes two of us, pal! So let’s go and tell Gary of the change.” We went to Gary who was lying down, and when we told him he too was most relieved. I think that with the Jhelum now out of the plan, I was the happiest of all!
The new plan was to get out around midnight, and walk to where we knew the buses were-Chati, on his way to the dentist, had been able to get this information. We planned to board a Peshwar-bound bus. Since Peshwar was only about 90 miles. away, we should be there before daybreak. From there, we should try and find out the Jamrud road and get there along the railway line. We would hide till nightfall and then walk along this railway line going from Peshawar to Jamrud and then into the hills of Landikotal and on to a place called Landi Khana. From Landi Khana, the border at Torkham was shown as being only a mile away. We had Rs. 180 with us for the bus ride and any other requirement. In general, the idea was to avoid contact with any other human after we left Peshawar. All we required to swing into action was Gary’s, recovery.
Saturday 12 August: it was the beginning of a long weekend, since 14th was Pak Independence Day.
The Camp Commandant was on a trip to Murree, a hill station. The Warrant Officer in Charge, Rizvi, lived at the other end of town. The Camp was in the hands of a dim but lovable Corporal called Mehfooz Khan. Gary was well and the enemy security set-up ideal for escape. During the early evening stroll, Jafa spotted a flash of lightning and told Dilip that a storm was building up. “Go around midnight or earlier if the storm hits before that”, he advised. After quick last minute consultations, we moved off to our cells. To avoid unnecessary excitment, only Kamy and Kuru were told about it, as both lived in Cell No.7 and Kuru was required to ask to be taken to the toilet at midnight. Till he was locked up again, the guards would be farthest away from where we would be knocking out the cement block.
We went through the same routine, Bulb, Water, Rations, Civvies, Dummies, crumpled decoy maps and farewell to Chati. The storm built up around midnight and Kuru did his bit. Gary got down for the final bit of scraping. I could hear my heart thumping and vague questions within: “Must you go?” “Will it work out?” I drew solace from remembering a quatrain from Omar Khayyam:
The ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But right or left, as strikes The Player, goes: And He that toss’d thee down into this field, He knows about it all; He knows, He KNOWS,
The last knock was given and we were ready. Gary was to go through the gap and wait against the wall till I, lying in the hole and having got a tap on my foot from Chati, the signal that no guard was looking down the gully, touched his foot. He was then to cross the gully. I would wait for a similar touch by Dilip. And Dilip would do the same on Chati’s touch. Chati would then replace the bricks and bed and generally make some sound to indicate signs of life within the cell. Early in the morning Chati was to ask to be taken to the toilet and then try and get into Jafa’s Cell-No.3-next to the lavatory.
Gray crawled through and waited. I crawled through. Seeing the night sky, whatever apprehensions there were, completely vanished, leaving a sense of peace and elation in their place. As my eyes focused and while I waited for the go-ahead tap, I saw a man sitting on a charpoy barely 20 paces away. Wanting to get Gary to see him, I touched Gary’s foot-and Gary, taking it to be the signal, crossed over! The man had not moved. I too crawled out and stood. Then I saw that, because of the strong wind, this fellow had a blanket over his head. We all crossed over and went to the wall to jump down onto the Mall but it was full of people-perhaps some late show had just given over. The time: 0030 hrs on 13 August, 72. So we sat down between the rear walls of the main cells and the small hut, a pumphouse-like building, to wait it out.
The wind was getting fierce now. It was howling amidst the telegraph wires and dust was flying about, stinging our faces. A few drops of rain started falling. About ten minutes later when we peeped over the wall, the Mall road was deserted. So we got down and walked towards the highway. Elated, I said, “Freedom!” More down to earth, Gary said, “Not yet!”
We’d barely gone a hundred yards and it began pouring heavily. At the highway we turned left. It was
a double road with plenty of trees lining it. We got out on it’s right edge and walked on. Another hundred yards all the lights went outthere was a power failure. Hidden by the blackout conditions, drenched to the skin, carrying our loads, we walked on happily and subsequently turned left out onto a broad road parallel to the Mall. This road went downwards and then climbed up gradually. We had walked for about an hour, when we came across a bus at a junction of roads, it’s engine idling; the driver asked us:
“Peshawar jana hai, bhai? Peshwar-Peshawar!”
We climbed in, hoping the bus would start off quickly. However, it held on till it was packed to capacity, and this took about an hour. What was uncomfortable was that the conductor asked us in broken English for the fare. Normally it is only Urdu, not pure Urdu but something similar to our Hindustani, that is spoken all over. Even PAF officers greet each other with “Salaam Ale Kum” and not “Good Morning”. So this attempt at English by the smiling conductor made us rather selfconscious, but all we could do was to sit tight and hope for the best.
Incidentally, Gary is a Sikh-the extra fair variety with brownish hair and light eyes. He had to shave his head because of an infection of the scalp and now the hair was an inch long and he looked a Pathan for all practical purposes. However, he wore a kada that would not come off so he tucked it under his sleeve for this adventure.
Around 0230 hrs, our bus set course. We slouched in our seats pretending to be asleep so as to conceal our faces. There was a halt at Attock. We had tea and found ourselves missing any sense of adventure. It almost felt like an Ambala-Chandigarh trip. If this were a scene from a movie there would have been music in the background to create a little excitment …
Around daybreak we reached Peshawar. Soon after entering the city we got off the bus and headed for a roadside stall and ordered tea. The tea was brought in an ancient pot held together with locking wire. While we waited for the tea to cool, it struck me that the radio might have an announcement about us. “Don’t you think we should move?” I said to Dilip. We didn’t wait any longer but got up. Now the idea was to get to the road to Jamrud as soon as possible.
We walked along the road and noticed that we were amongst Pathans. More than half the adults we saw were carrying arms. There was an autorickshaw driver with a gun resting against his windshield. All these people wore a kind of cross-belt or bandolier for ammunition or cartridges. We were on the fringes of the wild Northwest Frontier Province, an area where the only law was tribal law-tribal Jirga as they call it, and one which even the British could not tame. The present Government was helpless in this area. A little deeper, near Jamrud, we found that no adult was without his gun and cross-belt.
We learnt months later that no Pakistani, i.e., Sindhi or Punjabi, dares to walk like this in this area. They cross this region in vehicles and that too only during daylight hours.
We saw a tonga coming towards us. Gary, our ‘Pathan’, hailed him and asked him to take us to Jamrud road. The tongawala wanted to know where. Gary said that there was some newspaper office around there. The tongawala wanted more detail Gary said that we ourselves were not sure of the the exact location and that we only wanted to be taken to the general area. He thought for a while and then
back on the road and asked a local sitting on a culvert where we could catch a bus. He motioned us to sit down. Soon a bus came and our newfound friend stepped into the middle of the road and stopped it. He climbed on to the roof and we followed. We settled ourselves there with about a dozen locals and went through five or six check posts. Our bags were picked up at each post. Finding tins and dried fruit, they were put down again. The check post officials were looking for grain and nothing else.
A boy came and asked us for fares. We asked him how much and paid him what he asked, but there were no tickets. We didn’t know this but we must have been the only persons who paid any fare on that bus… in the NWFP the weekly train and buses are all on the house.
We reached Jamrud and got off. There was a gate on the highway with all kinds of signboards:
‘YOU ARE NOW ENTERING TRIBAL AREA’; ‘VISITORS ARE WARNED NOT TO LEAVE THE ROAD’; ‘VISITORS ARE WARNED NOT TO PHOTOGRAPH TRIBAL WOMEN’; ‘VISITORS MUST CROSS THIS REGION DURING DAYLIGHT HOURS’ AND ‘WELCOME TO KHYBER’.
it would cost us four rupees. Gary said OK and went up front with the tongawala while Dilip and I got on at the back. It was barely a ten minute ride. Dilip and I admired the area and gardens. We felt a bit guilty about Chati and wondered what might be happening to him. The time was abut 0600 hrs on 13 August, 72. While Dilip and I were thus exchanging pleasantries, Gary was going through a gruelling interrogation by the tongawala. He wanted to know who we were, from where had we come, what time had we caught the bus at Lahore, what was on at this newspaper office, what newspaper office was this that was open on a Sunday, and so on. Gary parried these as best he could, and sighed with relief when he stopped. The tongawala pointed to a road saying that this was the Jamrud road, but where was this office? We said that there was plenty of time for it to open, and that we would find it ourselves. We got off and I gave him a fiver. He looked at me and shocked us by saying in English “No change:” I smiled and forgetting that we were looking like job hunting paupers said, “Keep the change.” Considering our looks and the short ride, this was a mistake.
The tongawala stood up. There was a big question mark almost visible on his face. It was evident that he felt there was something fishy here. He asked us to put our gear back and climb in. He would take us wherever we wanted to go. We said that it wasn’t necessary, and in any case we had plenty of time. But he insisted. So we just walked away after thanking him while he stood there looking very puzzled.
The plan had gone through smoothly so far. Now we wanted to leave the road and hide, preferably after locating the railway line. But this was more easily said than done.
The moment we were on this highway, we found that all along there were either small shops, or dwellings, or there were people working on the road itself. All of these people looked the same, the clothing, the features and all. The three of us seemed quite incongruous and stood out like sore thumbs. What made things worse was that whatever they were doing, on spotting us they would stop their activity and stare intently at us. Several cyclists passed us, turned back, passed us again to turn back and then carry on.
Realising that a trio should not be seen, I trailed my friends by about 50 yards and on the opposite side of the road. One cyclist bolder than the others asked me where I was going. I said that we were going for a camp. He asked me what I was carrying. I said that it was water. He then asked if it was not wheat flour (Atta) that I was carrying. So I took out the ‘G’ suit tube and squirted a bit of water. Satisfied, he went on.
Due to this super conspicuousness of ours, we decided that leaving the road wouldn’t be right. After about 5 miles, there was another road branching off left, we took it and found ourselves at the railway line! However, there were intensely suspicious looks and a large crowd there, so we turned back and resumed our walk on the highway. We now knew that the railway line was on our left, parallel to the road.
About two miles further and after over two hours of walking we found a toll gate at which checking was going on. On the right of the road was the campus of an Islamic University which had a lot of hedges and trees. We got in amongst these and like thieves wondered what we should do next. I think it was Dilip who said that we should board a bus and hope for the best, walking didn’t seem safe enough. So we got
We thought we should get beyond this little town, it was Jamrud Fort, and then leave the road. The township was one of minifortresses where perhaps a joint family lived. From one fortified dwelling to the next there was at least 100 yards of bare ground, we could see no trees at all. About 5 miles away the hilly terrain was visible but the flat, barren plains offered no concealment at all. The hills, too, were completely barren and covered with gravel. The locals were all dressed to kill— with guns and ammunition belts.
As we walked, the locals would cease all activity and stare at us; it was clear that we could not afford to leave the road. Suddenly a boy of about 7 or 8, rolling an old tyre, pulled out his toy pistol and shot at my back. Dilip jokingly said, “Harry, your water bag has been shot up.” So I playfully did a cowboy type draw at the kid. He smiled and tagged along with us, rolling his tyre.
He studied us a while and grinned, “Angrez Hai.” I replied, “Angrez nahin; Pakistani hai!” He studied us, stili rolling his tyre. After a while he said, almost gleefully, “Pakistani nahin, Hindustani hain!!” For a full ten seconds our minds were paralysed with disbelief. Then I thought of our Hindi movies and said, “Badtamees! Sharm nahin ati?” He laughed, opened throttle on his tyre and raced away.
Rather shaken, we walked on. It was clear that we had to get into a bus again. About a mile past Jamrud, we saw a youth. Dilip greeted him with a neat “Salaam Ale Kum”. He replied with an “Alekum Salaam” and called us to sit on the culvert and speak with him. He asked several questions. Dilip explained that we were Pakistanis but brought up in Africa, we had come back to see our native country completely. Pretty convinced, he said that he would stop a bus for us. And when the next one came he stopped it and we climbed onto the roof and waved at the youth as we moved off.
The bus was bound for Landi Kotal, five miles short of Afghanistan. While going through the hills, we realised that had we followed our original plan we would never have made it. The hills were barren, and there was a sort of lookout post on every other peak. These posts were manned. It was like radar coverage where anyone walking in the daytime would be spotted by one or another of these. Had we walked at
night, we would certainly have gone into one of the numerous tribal dwellings we could see cut into the hill bases, their entrances covered with a cloth and the huge hounds would certainly have caught hold of us. Playing it by ear we seemed to have followed the best possible plan.
We reached Landi Kotal around 0930 hrs, barely nine hours after leaving the camp. We now wanted to know which of the two roads we should take. So trying to behave like tourists, we went to a tea shop. While drinking tea we casually asked the locals where this place Landi Khana was. They did not seem to know, so they asked their neighbours in a sort of Pass it on’ game. About the fifth or sixth chap seemed to have some idea and he pointed to one road saying that it was about four miles down that way. We asked if it was a picturesque (sundar) place like this. They didn’t seem to understand. We asked if there were any buses or taxis. One boy replied that there were no buses but taxis would go for about thirty rupees. We raised our eyebrows and said, “Thirty rupees for four miles! Too much, we’ll walk.” We did not want to make the tongawalla mistake again.
Here we saw that all the locals had on a sort of white skull cap. Dilip suggested that we too buy these. I said that since I was an Anglo I shouldn’t wear one. So we walked out of the tea shop and about 50 yards away found a stairway leading to a market place below the street. While Gary and I waited on top, Dilip went down and came back with two caps, one for himself and one for Gary. Gary’s was too tight, so Dilip went down to exchange it. While Gary and I waited, the boy from the tea shop yelled at the top of his voice that the Landi Khana taxi would come for 25 rupees! We indicated that we were not interested. Then between Gary and I, we wondered whether we should take it-take care of the driver if required and dash across. We decided to wait for our leader, Dilip, to come. Dilip came up. We mentioned our thoughts to him. He agreed. We had barely started moving towards the taxi when someone addressed us from behind.
We turned and found a middle-aged bearded man with glasses, asking if we wanted to go to Landi Khana; we first thought that he was a rival taxi driver. We said “Yes”. He asked where we had come from. Then he wanted to know who we were. All this was done rather politely. We gave out our stories: Dilip and Gary were airmen from Lahore and I was a civilian friend of theirs. His tone hardened when he asked us how we knew of this place Landi Khana. We replied that it was on all maps. He shook his head and said very confidently that no map had Landi Khana, and that most of the locals were unaware of it. He added that Landi Khana ended with British rule!
Dilip tried to deflect this impasse by talking to someone in the crowd surrounding us. I asked this bearded man why he was stopping us, and why he was suspicious. He replied very plainly that he suspected us of being Bengalis trying to run away to Afghanistan. Gary and I laughed as heartily as we could and slapped each other on the back, asking him if he’d ever seen Bengalis… did we look like Bengalis? He didn’t find anything funny and told us why he suspected us. This entire conversation was in Urdu and it turned out that he was not a Pathan but the Tehsildar’s clerk (arzi-navis). Being a Sunday, he was strolling about the market place when he heard a kid yelling something about Landi Khana. Then he saw that two non-locals were being addressed by a local kid… and a third non-local popping up with Peshawari topees! His alarm clock rang. Almost every Bengali fleeing towards Afghanistan had been
caught buying Peshawari topees at Landi Kotal. Coming from Peshawar they should have bought them there, but buying them here indicated at attempt at disguise. This was the thumb rule in this clerk’s mind.
He then searched our luggage. When he came across the blood stained chute, he looked worried, probably thinking that we had killed someone. He asked for identity cards or leave certificates. We gave excuses about local rules, etc., but they fell flat.
He took us under armed escort to the Tehsildar. The questioning by the Tehsildar was on the same lines. At the end of an hour in which we’d invented father’s name and home addresses, he said that although he could not put his finger on it, he knew that there was something very fishy. So fishy, he declared, that he was putting us in jail.
Seeing that that there was no way out, Dilip asked for permission to ring up Air HQ. After a great deal of reluctance the Tehsildar agreed. Dilip first asked for the Provost Marshal. Luckily he was not available – “gone for the Independence day preparations”.
This was when, in a flash of genius, Dilip asked for the ADC to the Chief of Air Staff. When our old friend San Ldr Usman Hamid came on the line, Dilip gave his name in such a way that the Pushto speaking Tehsildar could not catch on.
Dilip said, “Sir, you must have heard the news. The three of us are at Landi Kotal and caught by the Tehsildar, can you please send your men.” Since Usman did not understand, Dilip repeated this. Then Usman spoke with the Tehsildar.
We believe that we own our lives to Usman. Usman told the Tehsildar that we were Pakistani airmen but were wanted, We should be put behind bars but should not be beaten up. A very satisfied Tehsildar put the phone down and told us what Usman had said. Then he told a gang of armed locals to put us in the jail.
The jail was some distance away, on the other side of town. Once there a local said it is their Kanoon to search us before locking us up. In this search our POW Identity Cards came out. However, they could only recognise our snaps and not read the English. But they took them, away.
The jail was extremely filthy and we wondered what would happen next. We didn’t have long to wait though. The Tehsildar (his name was Shah Tehan) arrived with a, posse of tall grim looking locals. He asked us our names again. This time we gave our real identities for we saw him holding our Identity Cards. He was livid and went red in the face as he shot the questions: “Why did you lie? Hindus! POW! How many escaped? From where?”
The adventure which we had found lacking now became too much. For the first time our-future seemed uncertain; it looked like a firing squad for us in a few minutes. While he was in the midst of this tirade someone came and whispered something in his ear. He gave some orders. Some keys and handcuffs were brought. “Here we go”, we thought.
Handicuffed and chained to each other, we were marched back-back through the town and past the Tehsildar’s office. “The political agent wants to see you,” the Tehsildar said haughtily.
As we approached his office, the smart young political agent came out. He ordered our handcuffs to
POWs. There, by pooling their money, they could eat a little better. Parulkar started thinking about another attempt at escaping. They were allowed to write letters but those letters didn’t get far – they were discovered later crumpled up and thrown in a corner of the compound.
Bhutto visited the camp. A shamiana was put up and a platform erected. He came and spoke eloquently. He said he was not interested in making war. Soon after that, on 1 December, 1972, the prisoners were repatriated. They were brought to the border at Wagah by train and given a tea party there. Then they marched across the border to board buses waiting to take them to Amritsar. There was another big tea party for them there and presents, a suit piece and a watch for each, and much embracing and hugging. It was a home coming to remember.
be removed and had the VIP room opened for us. He gave instructions that we were to be treated like visiting Pakistani officers.
While the Tehsildar stood gaping, he shook hands with us and congratulated us on a fine attempt. He even sympathised that had it not been for that clerk happening to be around, we might have been free by now. He told us that Usman had called him and asked him to save us from the locals as a personnal favour.
Then there was grand spread laid out for us. At four in the evening an angry batch of PAF police came and took us roughly back to Peshawar.
Chati told us later what happened his end. At about 0400 hrs, he again asked to go to the toilet. While the guard waited in the courtyard, Chati stopped by Jafa’s cell and told him that all had gone off well. The plan was for Chati to move into Jafa’s cell, by giving the excuse of unbearable pain, so that the two could together face the aftermath of the discovery. But Jafa asked Chati to return to his own cell and continue to give the semblance of normalcy in order to allow the three of us the maximum possible time to get away. Jafa was aware of the enormous risk that Chati now faced and Chati himself accepted that risk willingly.
At about 1100 hrs all hell broke loose. Chati heared the loud ringing of the telephone in the guard’s cabin, some one answered it, then the sound of running footsteps and the person hissing to someone else: “CAS… CAS”. Obviously this was from the office of the Chief of Air Staff since by then we had been captured and had already spoken to Usman.
Chati said two policemen then came to the cell and discovered the dummies. They ran back to the main block and were joined by others. A hurried conference in urgent whispers began. The gist of it was whether they should throw someone into the escape hole and shoot him in the back to show that they had not been totally negligent. However, saner counsel prevailed, they must have figured that if the Chief already knew what difference would one more dead body make. Fortunately, they did not even subject Chati to any special treatment.
In Peshawar Jail the recaptured POWs were humiliated and ill-treated. In the heat of August, they were given rooms with no fans. So next morning Parulkar demanded to see the Police Chief. An hour later, an officer came. Parulkar said that they were going on a hunger-strike because the Pakistanis were not observing the Geneva Convention. As a result, table fans were provided but kept outside the door. On the 15th, the Pathans amongst the captors furtively brought them a delicious chicken dish and some grapes. The Pathan JCOs said; “If we had officers like you, our soldiers could do much better.”
Back to Pindi. Naturally San Ldr Wahid-ud-din was not exactly pleased with them! He ordered a Court Martial: the award was thirty days solitary confinement, no books, papers or pencils. They were later transferred to the Lyallpur camp. They travelled by train. They were hand-cuffed and secured with long chains, but were allowed to travel air-conditioned first class. After eighteen days in the Lyallpur Camp, all the POWs, about five hundred of them, were allowed to celebrate Janmashtmi – Lord, Krishna’s birthday. And there was no more solitary confinement after that. The joke among the local prisoners was that Lahore and Kasur were named after Lav and Kush, the two sons of Rama
Perhaps what the POWs should have done was offer some money to some Pathans, about Rs. 2000, and asked to be taken by them, by some trails, to Kabul and of course honour that promise at the Indian embassy at Kabul.
Lyallpur camp was in a huge fortress; it was flood-lit and surrounded by electrified wires. At night, each prisoner was locked up singly. There was a volley ball court, a temple and a gurudwara. The Pakistanis were really surprised to see the amity between the Hindu and Muslim
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