THE INDO-PAK WAR OF 1971 - BRAVE PVC STORIES
The Indo-Pak War of 1971 was brought on by the Bangladesh’s struggle for independence.
In 1970, elections were held in Pakistan. The Awami League won 167 out of 169 seats in East Pakistan and a simple majority in the 313-seat lower house of the Parliament of Pakistan. However when Sheikh Mujibur Rahman staked claims to forming the government, then West Pakistan’s Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) leader Zulfikar Ali Bhutto refused to yield the prime ministership to him and President Yahya Khan called the military to crush the resulting protests in East Pakistan.
In April, exiled Awami League leaders formed a government-in-exile. Lieutenant General Tikka Khan, infamously called the Butcher of Bangladesh, let loose a reign of terror in which the armed forces used machine guns, tanks and artillery against unarmed civilians and Bengali paramilitary forces. This resulted in a mass exodus of scared civilians, who started crossing the border and, fearing for their lives, became refugees in India. It is believed that politically the war started in April, when Pakistan unleashed a wave of terror, rape and murder, pushing around nine million refugees into India.
The Indian government repeatedly implored the international community to intervene and resolve the crisis, but that did not happen. The thousands of refugees put a big strain on India’s economy and also caused law and order problems. The crisis was completely ignored by the rest of the world and finally Prime Minister Indira Gandhi decided that armed action would have to be taken against Pakistan. India waited for the winter when snowfall would close the Himalayan passes, making Chinese intervention difficult On the evening of 3 December, the Pakistani Air Force launched a pre-emptive strike on eleven airfields in India, including Agra. It had hoped that by escalating the crisis, it would make China and the US join in and then there would be a UN intervention. It did not factor in the alacrity with which the Indian forces would respond.
That evening, Indira Gandhi announced on radio that the air strikes were a declaration of war by Pakistan and the Indians would retaliate. The planning and conduct of this war was exemplary. The Indian Air Force achieved commendable success by dominating the Eastern theatre of war completely within 48 hours. This enabled the advancing army columns to move without any fear of detection even in daytime.
Abled by great planners and effected by inspired troops, the retaliation was quick and decisive. Within 15 days the war was over, more than 90, 000 prisoners of war were taken, Pakistan suffered a crushing defeat and Bangladesh won its independence. The Instrument of Surrender of Pakistani forces stationed in East Pakistan was signed in Dhaka on 16 December 1971.
The well-recognized picture which hangs in many Army establishments shows General Officer Commanding-in- Chief of Eastern Command of the Indian Army Lt General Jagjit Singh Aurora and Commander of Pakistani forces in East Pakistan Lt Gen A. A. K. Niazi. The war was fought in two sectors— the Eastern and the Western. Many tales of supreme bravery emerged from this war.
Four Param Vir Chakras were awarded to brave hearts Lance Naik Elbert Ekka of 14 Guards, Major Hoshiar Singh of 3 Grenadiers, Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal of 17 Horse and Flying Officer Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon of the Air Force. Sekhon remains the only Air Force officer to get the Param Vir Chakra.
Only one recipient—Maj Hoshiar Singh—survived to tell his tale.
Albert Ekka
A man is crouched motionlessly on the ground; around him are nasty swamp bubbles. His boots are caked with dried mud, and he can feel an ant crawl across his left leg. He does not move an inch; ants are the least of his worries. Something drips down his neck and instinctively he touches it. It feels too sticky to be sweat. Lance Naik Albert Ekka brings his hand forward. It is too dark to see but he isn’t surprised to smell blood. Wiping his palm on his pants, he grips his gun again.
It is going to be first light soon. Ekka can tell this even before he notices the faint orange glow seeping through the purple sheen of the night up in the east. He is an adivasi and knows these things instinctively, as do most tribals. The stars are still in the sky when he drops to his knees and goes into a snake crawl with his 7. 62 rifle in his hands.
The bullet lodged in his arm sends a shooting pain down his arm. Another has caught him in the neck, making him stagger and fall before he grits his teeth and picks himself up again. A thin trickle of blood is oozingfrom the gaping hole and curving right down to his collar and into his neck. This wound is still warm and isn’t hurting just yet but he knows it is just a matter of time before the blood loss and the pain gets him. Ignoring it for the time being, he put his weight forward on his elbows and crawls into the darkness making his way to the old doublestoried railway signal building from where the enemy medium machine gun (MMG) fire is coming.
When Lance Naik Albert Ekka reaches the building where the enemy soldiers have made a bunker, he can hear the deadly rattle of the machine gun booming in his ear. The ground trembles under his feet each time the gun goes off, filling the night with cries ofhis own men, helpless before its killer accuracy and range. The guns his own troops have are no match for the powerful MMG fire. If this operation is to be successful the enemy MMG has to be silenced.
Slinging his rifle on his back, Ekka reaches for the grenade on his beLt Removing the pin with his teeth and spitting it out in one quick move, he lobs it inside the old brick structure through a gap. He then waits for the soft hiss to die down.
Before the two men inside can realize what has happened, the grenade has exploded, making Ekka squint in the sudden light and recoil from the splinters that hit him in the stomach. It throws one soldier against a wall with its force, reducing him to a mass of flesh and blood. The other is unharmed and still bent over the MMG.
Ekka climbs up the rusty old iron ladder leaning against the building and jumps in from a window. He takes his rifle off his shoulder and with the gleaming blade of the bayonet charges at the soldier operating the machine gun. Ghonp-nikal, ghonp-nikal: he remembers the ustad’s instructions clearly. It has been hardly four years since his training and he has always been a quiet, but good student, silently absorbing lessons.
The time has come to put what was taught to test. Screaming with cold fury, Ekka charges at the machine gun operator and just as he turns around pushes the bayonet right into his stomach. Pulling it out with all his might, he raises his rifle and plunges the blade back into the man’s chest. Again. And again.
The MMG is still smoking when its operator drops down in a bloody pile. Ekka wipes the dead man’s blood off his face and stands there with the bloodied bayonet in his hands. His eyes bear a look of quiet satisfaction. And extreme exhaustion.
The machine gun has fallen silent. Everything is at a standstill. The night is suddenly quiet.
And then the battle turns in favour of the Indian soldiers. Major O. P. Kohli, company commander, Bravo Company, who is just 10 feet away directing the other men, has watched Ekka lob the grenade and climb into the signal station. Through the cracks in the building he can see Ekka attack the gunner and then turn. His heart fills with pride at what his man has done and he watches the building, waiting for Ekka to show up at the window. He is relieved to find the small, slim soldier climb out and step on the iron ladder to join the rest of the men. With bated breath, he watches Ekka start to climb down. And then suddenly, Ekka’s body goes limp and he collapses and falls off the ladder.
Lance Naik Albert Ekka is dead. He has succumbed to his injuries. But he has accomplished his mission. While the men of Bravo Company go about clearing bunkers, free of the MMG that has been stalling their attack, Lance Naik Albert Ekka lies dead under the iron ladder that leads to the old brick signal station of Gangasagar. The sun slowly appears from behind the darkness. The stars disappear one by one and soon it is dawn. Camp Abrera, On The Banks of Chambal
February 1968
Lieutenant O. P. Kohli, of Bravo Company, 32 Guards (later renamed 14 Guards) Insurgency Unit, was at Abrera camp on the banks of the Chambal River, about 30 km from Kota, when a thin and dark young boy called Albert Ekka was marched up to him. He had cleared his battle physical efficiency test (BPET) and was now standing before Lt Kohli expressionlessly, refusing to meet his eyes.
Lt Kohli nodded at the newcomer and asked for him to be added to the rolls. Ever since the new battalion had been raised on 13 January 1968, it had been receiving men from the Sikh Light Infantry, Bihar, Kumaon and the Guards. Albert had come from a Bihar regiment. ‘Frankly, I wasn’t much impressed by the unassuming, docile and quiet young man. But he was an adivasi so I knew he would be physically fit and that was all we needed,’ remembers Colonel Kohli, Sena Medal, retired now and heading the Delhi regional office of an ATM security agency. Sitting in his conference room with a cup of tea in his hand, he smiles gently, recounting the memories that are streaming in. ‘We were together in the war. I was his company commander. But really, looking at him then, no one could have guessed what glory Albert was going to bring us. ‘
In May 1968, 32 Guards (I) was moved to Mizoram. Ekka was now section commander even though he was still a lance naik (normally a naik is the section commander). He was slowly coming into his own. He took part in counter insurgency operations, and showed great innovation. He was good with his subordinates and instilled respect. ‘His command and control were good particularly because he was very reserved and did not mix with others or speak much. His face would always remain blank and he would talk only on a need-to-know basis. One could never tell from his face if he was happy or sad, and what he was thinking, ‘ remembers Col Kohli.
He also remembers how Albert was completely disinterested in his personal appearance or his uniform. He would wear whatever size of uniform was issued to him without bothering to get it fitted by a tailor. The result was that his clothes hung limply on his thin frame and invoked the ire of his company commander, who was a bit of a stickler for smart turnouts. ‘I would often pull his belt which would be hanging at his waist and tell him to smarten up his appearance, ‘ Col Kohli smiles.
However, Ekka made up for his disinterest in the way he looked with his killer instincts in the wild. When the company was out on a patrol, he would spice up meals by catching crabs in the nullah, roasting them on fire and serving them sprinkled with salt and chilli powder to the men. He was good at firing and excellent at setting traps for birds and wild boar. Often he would take his gun and a round of ammunition and come back from the jungle with a catch. And then when the time came for battle, he proved himself there gloriously too.
The trouble started in March 1971, when 32 Guards was in Dimagiri, and the refugees started entering India in hordes. Everybody could sense that it was just a matter of time before war was declared. Nine months passed and finally the orders came in December.
Gangasagar, Eastern front,
Bangladesh Liberation War
Night of 3 December 1971
The Alpha and Bravo Companies were told to attack Gangasagar railway station, which the enemy had converted into a virtual fortress by establishing bunkers all around. The C Company was moved out to create a diversion while the D Company stayed with the battalion headquarters. The artillery was kept on call but not brought into action since the aim was to surprise the enemy by moving into their defences silently and the big guns would have alerted them.
It was 2 a. m. when the men of Alpha and Bravo Companies started their march into enemy territory. Since the general area was marshy and a soldier walking there could easily sink up to his knees in the slush, the men were asked to walk in single file along the railway track that had been laid on an embankment 8-10 feet high and equally wide. Enemy soldiers had earlier been observed walking along the track so the guards knew that the area was not mined. As per plan, Alpha Company started walking along the right of the track and Bravo on the left.
The men were moving quietly in the night, one behind the other. To maintain coordination between the two marching companies, Lance Naik Gulab Singh and Lance Naik Ekka were appointed as guides to march on top of the embankment, one on either side guiding their respective companies from the height. The orders were that the men would move along the railway track and charge when they saw the enemy. B Company Commander Maj Kohli (he had been promoted) was walking down below along the railway track with the troops. He could see Ekka right above, his thin frame a dark shadow moving silently in the night. This was how the two companies marched on, one on either side of the railway track with the two guides moving together on top, till they reached the enemy position. All was going well till one of the guides walked into a trip-flare wire that the enemy soldiers had laid out across the railway line. The moment the device went off, it sent a bouquet of fireworks into the air, illuminating the area like daylight. The two men on top stood exposed. Just 40 yards away from where Ekka was standing was an enemy bunker with a sentry on duty outside. Startled by the noise and light, the soldier on sentry duty shouted: ‘Kaun hai wahan?’ (Who goes there?) It was 2. 30 a. m. and he was still trying to figure out if the trip wire had been set off by a man or an animal.
‘Tera baap,’ (your father) replied Ekka and charging ferociously with his gun he bayoneted the enemy soldier. There were four men, a light machine gun (LMG) and a recoilless (RCL) gun in that first bunker they encountered. Ekka was shot in the arm but the bunker was quickly taken over. Thereafter, all hell broke loose.
Pakistani troops started lighting up the area, firing illumination rounds. LMG and MMG fire was directed at the two attacking companies. The night rang out with the sound of gunfire and cries of men attacking each other. There was a pond behind the railway station with a bandh (dam) around it and the enemy soldiers had fortified the entire area with numerous bunkers. A and B Companies, with 120 men each, split up here. While A Company moved straight down, B Company moved around the pond, from one enemy bunker to another. Molotov Cocktails were charged and activated. Flinging them at the enemy soldiers the two companies moved on with complete disregard for their personal safety. They went from bunker to bunker, assaulting armed soldiers and taking over the enemy positions. The single aim was to kill enemy soldiers and clear the bunkers. Despite the bullet in his arm Ekka was charging like a lion. He was walking alongside Maj Kohli when another bullet hit him in the neck.
Kohli watched him stagger and fall. ‘But then, he quickly picked himself up, stood tall and kept walking,’ he recounts. By then, the men had reached the railway signal building from where the MMG was firing continuously. It was a big hindrance to the soldiers. There was a need to silence the deadly machine gun. This was exactly where Ekka would perform his supreme act of bravery. In the battle of Gangasagar, 11 soldiers lost their lives while one officer, three junior commissioned officers (JCOs) and 55 other ranks were seriously injured. Twenty-five enemy soldiers were killed while six were taken prisoners of war.
The battalion was awarded three Sena Medals, one Vir Chakra and one Param Vir Chakra (PVC) for the bravery of its men. Besides Ekka’s brave feat, that got him his PVC posthumously, there were many individual acts of sacrifice and cold courage that made highlights in the Battle of Gangasagar. Tilak Ram of RCL platoon managed to pinpoint the position of the enemy RCL gun and, unmindful of his own safety, jumped on the enemy, killing two soldiers on the spot. For his act of bravery, Tilak Ram was awarded a Sena Medal. Young artillery officer Captain K. Mahadevan, who was providing fire support to his own troops, was repeatedly exposed to enemy fire but refused to move and kept directing artillery fire to support the Indian troops. He was also decorated with a Sena Medal.
The advance along the railway line was also subjected to heavy fire. Major Tara, the right forward company commander, did not think twice before rushing to the enemy MMG and, flinging a Molotov cocktail and grenade at the bunker, pulled the gun out. This daring action brought him a Vir Chakra. The PVC given to Ekka was even more special for all concerned with the action because it was the first to come to Bihar and also the first won by the brigade of the Guards. It was the only PVC awarded in the Eastern Theatre as well.
Lance Naik Albert Ekka was the son of Julius and Mariam Ekka. Born and brought up in a village in Bihar, he came from an adivasi tribe in Ranchi and was a devout Christian. From the time when he was a little boy Albert was fond of hunting and like all adivasis was an expert at tracking and hunting animals, often using his bow and arrow. He was also good at games. His love for adventure and his hunting skills made him an excellent soldier. When Albert grew up he was very keen to join the Army since it appealed to his sense of adventure and action.
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Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon
Srinagar
14 December 1971
It is another freezing morning at the Srinagar air force base. And who would know the bone-chilling cold better than the 26-year- old, tall and lanky Flying Officer Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon, with the crisp upturned moustache, and Flight Lieutenant Baldhir Singh Ghuman, both of whom have got there at 4. 30 a. m. in a bus with most of its windowpanes missing. The 45-minute ride from Badami Bagh officers’ mess, where they live in dingy, dimly lit rooms, to the airbase has made their teeth chatter and nearly frozen their joints but for the pilots of 18 Squadron (Flying Bullets), this is routine. Those on morning shift have to get to the base and be battle ready at least half-hour before daylight. Pilots on two-minute standby have to remain strapped to their seats in the cockpit of their parked planes but since it is extremely cold, they are relieved after every three hours.
The two young officers are sitting in the small, cramped aircrew room, 30 m from where their Gnats are parked in the open, though neatly camouflaged, pens. Since it has been a particularly foggy morning with very low flight visibility, they have been taken off the two-minute standby, but are still on air defence alert and a five-minute standby, which means they should be able to get airborne in five minutes. Both are from the 18 Squadron, which has been stationed at Ambala but is now more at Srinagar since March 1971 after tensions have escalated between India and Pakistan. Until now, the Indian Air Force has been following UN restrictions of no combat aircraft in Jammu and Kashmir. Neither Sekhon nor Ghuman are new to Kashmir’s terrain and weather and both are fully confident since they have complete faith in the Gnats they fly. The tiny planes have been termed Sabre Slayers after their phenomenal performance in the ‘65 war when they held their own against the larger Pakistani Sabre jets, shooting down as many as seven of them.
Suddenly, an alarm is sounded from Awantipur Airbase. Pakistani Sabre jets are headed towards Srinagar. Since the base does not have air defence radar and visibility is also low, it is very difficult to spot enemy planes till they are very close. A chain of observation posts has been set up along the hill crest in the west where a soldier from the local regiment is put on duty. He has a battery-operated radio set and his task is to report immediately if he spots enemy aircraft in the air. The two fighter pilots are told to be on Standby 2. They run out of the aircrew room and make a dash for the pens where their faithful Gnats are standing. Clipping on his helmet, Sekhon, called Brother by his friends, climbs into his Gnat. Ghuman, popularly called G’Man, makes a dash for his own plane. Both are in high spirits. It is every pilot’s desire to get a slice of action and it looks like the dream is about to come true for the two of them today.
Earlier that day, in Pakistan A formation of four plus two F 86 Sabres of Pakistan Air Force’s 26 Squadron (Black Spiders) takes off from Peshawar air force base and heads towards Kashmir. Their orders are to dive into the Kashmir Valley, bomb Srinagar, turn and get back to Pakistan. Each is carrying two 500- pound bombs and is ready for attack. All six Sabres also carry external 760 litre fuel tanks to stretch their endurance. While four of them are on the bombing mission, the other two are escorting them to facilitate the attack. Both have six fully loaded M3 Browning machine guns.
The 14 December strafing of Srinagar airbase was not the first time that the beautiful city had been bombed by Pakistan air force planes. In the 1971 War, the Srinagar airfield was subjected to 14 such daylight attacks. According to Air Commodore (retd) Ramesh V. Phadke, who was Sekhon’s course mate and also posted in Srinagar in the same squadron during the war, the reason for this was not just the easy access Pakistan had to the Valley, but also the fact that they had stationed an intelligence agent in Srinagar, who would warn them if the deadly Gnats were in the air. On more than two occasions, the enemy planes had retreated from the Pir Panjal Pass because they had received information that the dreaded Sabre Slayers were in the air, he says.
On this morning, the Sabres cross Pakistan and enter India by flying over the Pir Panjal range at 10, 000 feet. They are spotted when they cross Awantipur air force base, and an alarm is immediately raised. At the Srinagar Airbase, Sekhon and Ghuman have started their Gnats. The airbase has a 3, 500-yard runway, a parallel taxi track and a few airplane shelters made of concrete, called blast pens, right at the end of the runway where four Gnats are usually stationed at a time. The two fighter pilots are impatiently waiting for clearance from the air traffic control, which is a dug-out on the eastern side of the runway. The din of the approaching planes is getting closer every moment and now reverberating in their ears. Ghuman decides not to wait any more and takes off. By then the Sabres are overhead and two of them have dropped lower and are strafing the airstrip. Ignoring the risk to his own life,
Sekhon, who has been waiting for the runway to clear, lifts offin another 20 seconds. Even as the two Sabres drop their bombs on the air strip, his Gnat lifts gracefully into the air. Beneath him the air strip is covered with smoking potholes. Above him, somewhere in the fog, is Ghuman. Ideally, the scramble or the order for takeoffshould have been cancelled since the enemy aircraft were overhead and had already begun bombing the runway, but this does not concern Sekhon, who smiles to himself and pulls the joystick. He doesn’t know then that this is the last time he and Ghuman will fly together.
Once in the air, Sekhon immediately lines up behind the two Sabres that are regrouping after their bomb run and starts chasing them. Ghuman is lost in the fog. They have lost each other and will not reconnect. Ghuman will land back on the bombed airstrip, half an hour after the air battle is over. After a fierce and daring fight at treetop height, the completely outnumbered Sekhon would have crashed in the valley by then, his parachute only half deployed.
The moment the Sabres realize they are being chased by the tiny though lethal Gnat, they take a sharp left turn. High on adrenaline, Sekhon turns with them and fearlessly follows. His voice crackles over the radio set: ‘I am behind two Sabres. I wont let the bastards get away.’ Meanwhile, Sabre nos 3 and 4 have also dropped their bombs and are pulling up. While Sabre no. 3 spots the dogfight and joins up with the two Sabres Sekhon is chasing, Sabre no. 4, possibly waylaid by the fog, turns back towards Pakistan. Sekhon positions himself behind Sabre no. 2 and opens fire with his 30-mm gun. The familiar gunfire is heard at the airbase. A plume of fire and smoke is seen rising from the Sabre. Flight Lieutenants Bopaya and Naliyan of18 Squadron later verify seeing a Sabre with its right wing on fire. Pakistan denies any hit. Sekhon revs up his engines and now decides to go after Sabre no. 1. Sabre no. 3 has, however, closed the gap and Sekhon is sandwiched between the two large planes with the one behind shooting at him. The three get locked in a fierce dogfight. ‘I’m in a circle of joy, but with two Sabres. I am getting behind one, but the other is getting an edge on me,’ Sekhon’s voice is heard on the radio.
None of the action is visible to onlookers from the airfield. The Sabre behind Sekhon continuously spews out a stream of 0.5” bullets, but he dodges them efficiently and continues to trail the Sabre in front. The third Sabre shoots his gun empty and fails to get a hit. The Pakistanis are shocked when the pilot’s voice crackles on the radio: ‘Three is Winchester,’ meaning he has finished 1, 800 rounds and his guns cannot fire any more.
Ammunition finished, Sekhon drops out of the fight and is now free of its threat. He uses this moment of temporary relief to straighten and drop his external fuel tanks so that he is much lighter and more agile. He goes after Sabre no. 1 with renewed enthusiasm. Nimbler than before, he starts making even tighter turns. The Sabre tries its best to lose the Gnat on its tail, but Sekhon closes in and after he gets the Sabre in his shooting range, starts firing at it with his 30-mm cannon. The Sabre gives up and makes an SOS call for help. Sekhon is completely unaware that the formation of attacking Sabres actually has six and not four planes and that the two escorts are watching the fight from a distance, astonished by the dexterity with which the Gnat is turning and holding the big Sabre prisoner. On hearing the SOS call they dive down. Gaining a speed advantage from its dive, one of the Sabres closes in on Sekhon. Sekhon spots the two newcomers and realizes he is outnumbered. The rear Sabre fixes the Gnat with his machine gun and makes a continuous attack. The Gnat gets the bullets.
I think I have been hit, G’Man come and get them, ‘is Sekhon’s last message. Trailing smoke and fire, the tiny Gnat tries to steady itself, but continues to lose height and snaps over backwards. It nosedives and corkscrews into a gorge near Badgam. Sekhon tries to save himself by ejecting but he is too low and his parachute does not deploy properly. He crashes. Ghuman lands on the badly bombed runway half an hour later.
When the crashed Gnat is finally found, it has 37 bullet holes around the rear fuselage, tail plane and fin. It has however singlehandedly sabotaged the attack by six Sabres, which is a remarkable achievement. For his exemplary courage and heroism in the Indo-Pakistan War of 1971, Flying Officer Sekhon is posthumously awarded the Param Vir Chakra. He remains the only Air Force personnel to be awarded the country’s highest gallantry award. Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon was born in RurkaIsewal village of Ludhiana, Punjab, on 17 July 1945. He was the son of Warrant Officer Trilok Singh Sekhon, which made him a second-generation officer of the Indian Air Force. Sekhon was commissioned into the Air Force on 4 June He was from the 97 GD (P) Pilots’ Course and was posted to No. 18 Squadron (Flying Bullets) in October He was a brave though unassuming man with a lot of experience in flying Gnats.
More than six feet tall, Sekhon was lanky with an awkward gait and people sometimes wondered how he could fit into the cockpit of the tiny Gnat. He was a simple man from a rustic background and was affectionately called ‘Brother’ by his course mates and friends because of his habit of starting all conversations with the word ‘Brother’, a literal translation of the word ‘bhai’ that he probably used in his village.
He was twenty-six years old when he died and had been married for just a few months, most of which he had spent on duty in Srinagar. He was awarded the Param Vir Chakra for his heroic action during the bombing of Srinagar airbase by Pakistan. The young and fragile Mrs Sekhon, draped in a white shawl, receiving the PVC from President V. V. Giri, is a poignant image immortalized in the records of the Indian Air Force. Mrs Sekhon later remarried. Freelance researcher Air Cmde (Retd) Ramesh V Phadke, who was Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon’s course mate, has helped recreate the atmosphere of the Srinagar airfield by sharing his memories and research for the underpublication book, Air Power and National Security.
Arun Khetarpal
Battle Of Basantar, Shakargarh Sector
16 December 1971
The Indo-Pak War of 1971 was brought on by the Bangladesh’s struggle for independence.
In 1970, elections were held in Pakistan. The Awami League won 167 out of 169 seats in East Pakistan and a simple majority in the 313-seat lower house of the Parliament of Pakistan. However when Sheikh Mujibur Rahman staked claims to forming the government, then West Pakistan’s Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) leader Zulfikar Ali Bhutto refused to yield the prime ministership to him and President Yahya Khan called the military to crush the resulting protests in East Pakistan.
In April, exiled Awami League leaders formed a government-in-exile. Lieutenant General Tikka Khan, infamously called the Butcher of Bangladesh, let loose a reign of terror in which the armed forces used machine guns, tanks and artillery against unarmed civilians and Bengali paramilitary forces. This resulted in a mass exodus of scared civilians, who started crossing the border and, fearing for their lives, became refugees in India. It is believed that politically the war started in April, when Pakistan unleashed a wave of terror, rape and murder, pushing around nine million refugees into India.
The Indian government repeatedly implored the international community to intervene and resolve the crisis, but that did not happen. The thousands of refugees put a big strain on India’s economy and also caused law and order problems. The crisis was completely ignored by the rest of the world and finally Prime Minister Indira Gandhi decided that armed action would have to be taken against Pakistan. India waited for the winter when snowfall would close the Himalayan passes, making Chinese intervention difficult On the evening of 3 December, the Pakistani Air Force launched a pre-emptive strike on eleven airfields in India, including Agra. It had hoped that by escalating the crisis, it would make China and the US join in and then there would be a UN intervention. It did not factor in the alacrity with which the Indian forces would respond.
That evening, Indira Gandhi announced on radio that the air strikes were a declaration of war by Pakistan and the Indians would retaliate. The planning and conduct of this war was exemplary. The Indian Air Force achieved commendable success by dominating the Eastern theatre of war completely within 48 hours. This enabled the advancing army columns to move without any fear of detection even in daytime.
Abled by great planners and effected by inspired troops, the retaliation was quick and decisive. Within 15 days the war was over, more than 90, 000 prisoners of war were taken, Pakistan suffered a crushing defeat and Bangladesh won its independence. The Instrument of Surrender of Pakistani forces stationed in East Pakistan was signed in Dhaka on 16 December 1971.
The well-recognized picture which hangs in many Army establishments shows General Officer Commanding-in- Chief of Eastern Command of the Indian Army Lt General Jagjit Singh Aurora and Commander of Pakistani forces in East Pakistan Lt Gen A. A. K. Niazi. The war was fought in two sectors— the Eastern and the Western. Many tales of supreme bravery emerged from this war.
Four Param Vir Chakras were awarded to brave hearts Lance Naik Elbert Ekka of 14 Guards, Major Hoshiar Singh of 3 Grenadiers, Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal of 17 Horse and Flying Officer Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon of the Air Force. Sekhon remains the only Air Force officer to get the Param Vir Chakra.
Only one recipient—Maj Hoshiar Singh—survived to tell his tale.
Albert Ekka
A man is crouched motionlessly on the ground; around him are nasty swamp bubbles. His boots are caked with dried mud, and he can feel an ant crawl across his left leg. He does not move an inch; ants are the least of his worries. Something drips down his neck and instinctively he touches it. It feels too sticky to be sweat. Lance Naik Albert Ekka brings his hand forward. It is too dark to see but he isn’t surprised to smell blood. Wiping his palm on his pants, he grips his gun again. It is going to be first light soon. Ekka can tell this even before he notices the faint orange glow seeping through the purple sheen of the night up in the east. He is an adivasi and knows these things instinctively, as do most tribals. The stars are still in the sky when he drops to his knees and goes into a snake crawl with his 7. 62 rifle in his hands.
The bullet lodged in his arm sends a shooting pain down his arm. Another has caught him in the neck, making him stagger and fall before he grits his teeth and picks himself up again. A thin trickle of blood is oozingfrom the gaping hole and curving right down to his collar and into his neck. This wound is still warm and isn’t hurting just yet but he knows it is just a matter of time before the blood loss and the pain gets him. Ignoring it for the time being, he put his weight forward on his elbows and crawls into the darkness making his way to the old doublestoried railway signal building from where the enemy medium machine gun (MMG) fire is coming.
When Lance Naik Albert Ekka reaches the building where the enemy soldiers have made a bunker, he can hear the deadly rattle of the machine gun booming in his ear. The ground trembles under his feet each time the gun goes off, filling the night with cries ofhis own men, helpless before its killer accuracy and range. The guns his own troops have are no match for the powerful MMG fire. If this operation is to be successful the enemy MMG has to be silenced.
Slinging his rifle on his back, Ekka reaches for the grenade on his beLt Removing the pin with his teeth and spitting it out in one quick move, he lobs it inside the old brick structure through a gap. He then waits for the soft hiss to die down.
Before the two men inside can realize what has happened, the grenade has exploded, making Ekka squint in the sudden light and recoil from the splinters that hit him in the stomach. It throws one soldier against a wall with its force, reducing him to a mass of flesh and blood. The other is unharmed and still bent over the MMG.
Ekka climbs up the rusty old iron ladder leaning against the building and jumps in from a window. He takes his rifle off his shoulder and with the gleaming blade of the bayonet charges at the soldier operating the machine gun. Ghonp-nikal, ghonp-nikal: he remembers the ustad’s instructions clearly. It has been hardly four years since his training and he has always been a quiet, but good student, silently absorbing lessons.
The time has come to put what was taught to test. Screaming with cold fury, Ekka charges at the machine gun operator and just as he turns around pushes the bayonet right into his stomach. Pulling it out with all his might, he raises his rifle and plunges the blade back into the man’s chest. Again. And again.
The MMG is still smoking when its operator drops down in a bloody pile. Ekka wipes the dead man’s blood off his face and stands there with the bloodied bayonet in his hands. His eyes bear a look of quiet satisfaction. And extreme exhaustion.
The machine gun has fallen silent. Everything is at a standstill. The night is suddenly quiet.
And then the battle turns in favour of the Indian soldiers. Major O. P. Kohli, company commander, Bravo Company, who is just 10 feet away directing the other men, has watched Ekka lob the grenade and climb into the signal station. Through the cracks in the building he can see Ekka attack the gunner and then turn. His heart fills with pride at what his man has done and he watches the building, waiting for Ekka to show up at the window. He is relieved to find the small, slim soldier climb out and step on the iron ladder to join the rest of the men. With bated breath, he watches Ekka start to climb down. And then suddenly, Ekka’s body goes limp and he collapses and falls off the ladder.
Lance Naik Albert Ekka is dead. He has succumbed to his injuries. But he has accomplished his mission. While the men of Bravo Company go about clearing bunkers, free of the MMG that has been stalling their attack, Lance Naik Albert Ekka lies dead under the iron ladder that leads to the old brick signal station of Gangasagar. The sun slowly appears from behind the darkness. The stars disappear one by one and soon it is dawn. Camp Abrera, On The Banks of Chambal
February 1968
Lieutenant O. P. Kohli, of Bravo Company, 32 Guards (later renamed 14 Guards) Insurgency Unit, was at Abrera camp on the banks of the Chambal River, about 30 km from Kota, when a thin and dark young boy called Albert Ekka was marched up to him. He had cleared his battle physical efficiency test (BPET) and was now standing before Lt Kohli expressionlessly, refusing to meet his eyes.
Lt Kohli nodded at the newcomer and asked for him to be added to the rolls. Ever since the new battalion had been raised on 13 January 1968, it had been receiving men from the Sikh Light Infantry, Bihar, Kumaon and the Guards. Albert had come from a Bihar regiment. ‘Frankly, I wasn’t much impressed by the unassuming, docile and quiet young man. But he was an adivasi so I knew he would be physically fit and that was all we needed,’ remembers Colonel Kohli, Sena Medal, retired now and heading the Delhi regional office of an ATM security agency. Sitting in his conference room with a cup of tea in his hand, he smiles gently, recounting the memories that are streaming in. ‘We were together in the war. I was his company commander. But really, looking at him then, no one could have guessed what glory Albert was going to bring us. ‘
In May 1968, 32 Guards (I) was moved to Mizoram. Ekka was now section commander even though he was still a lance naik (normally a naik is the section commander). He was slowly coming into his own. He took part in counter insurgency operations, and showed great innovation. He was good with his subordinates and instilled respect. ‘His command and control were good particularly because he was very reserved and did not mix with others or speak much. His face would always remain blank and he would talk only on a need-to-know basis. One could never tell from his face if he was happy or sad, and what he was thinking, ‘ remembers Col Kohli.
He also remembers how Albert was completely disinterested in his personal appearance or his uniform. He would wear whatever size of uniform was issued to him without bothering to get it fitted by a tailor. The result was that his clothes hung limply on his thin frame and invoked the ire of his company commander, who was a bit of a stickler for smart turnouts. ‘I would often pull his belt which would be hanging at his waist and tell him to smarten up his appearance, ‘ Col Kohli smiles.
However, Ekka made up for his disinterest in the way he looked with his killer instincts in the wild. When the company was out on a patrol, he would spice up meals by catching crabs in the nullah, roasting them on fire and serving them sprinkled with salt and chilli powder to the men. He was good at firing and excellent at setting traps for birds and wild boar. Often he would take his gun and a round of ammunition and come back from the jungle with a catch. And then when the time came for battle, he proved himself there gloriously too.
The trouble started in March 1971, when 32 Guards was in Dimagiri, and the refugees started entering India in hordes. Everybody could sense that it was just a matter of time before war was declared. Nine months passed and finally the orders came in December.
Gangasagar, Eastern front,
Bangladesh Liberation War
Night of 3 December 1971
The Alpha and Bravo Companies were told to attack Gangasagar railway station, which the enemy had converted into a virtual fortress by establishing bunkers all around. The C Company was moved out to create a diversion while the D Company stayed with the battalion headquarters. The artillery was kept on call but not brought into action since the aim was to surprise the enemy by moving into their defences silently and the big guns would have alerted them.
It was 2 a. m. when the men of Alpha and Bravo Companies started their march into enemy territory. Since the general area was marshy and a soldier walking there could easily sink up to his knees in the slush, the men were asked to walk in single file along the railway track that had been laid on an embankment 8-10 feet high and equally wide. Enemy soldiers had earlier been observed walking along the track so the guards knew that the area was not mined. As per plan, Alpha Company started walking along the right of the track and Bravo on the left.
The men were moving quietly in the night, one behind the other. To maintain coordination between the two marching companies, Lance Naik Gulab Singh and Lance Naik Ekka were appointed as guides to march on top of the embankment, one on either side guiding their respective companies from the height. The orders were that the men would move along the railway track and charge when they saw the enemy. B Company Commander Maj Kohli (he had been promoted) was walking down below along the railway track with the troops. He could see Ekka right above, his thin frame a dark shadow moving silently in the night. This was how the two companies marched on, one on either side of the railway track with the two guides moving together on top, till they reached the enemy position. All was going well till one of the guides walked into a trip-flare wire that the enemy soldiers had laid out across the railway line. The moment the device went off, it sent a bouquet of fireworks into the air, illuminating the area like daylight. The two men on top stood exposed. Just 40 yards away from where Ekka was standing was an enemy bunker with a sentry on duty outside. Startled by the noise and light, the soldier on sentry duty shouted: ‘Kaun hai wahan?’ (Who goes there?) It was 2. 30 a. m. and he was still trying to figure out if the trip wire had been set off by a man or an animal.
‘Tera baap,’ (your father) replied Ekka and charging ferociously with his gun he bayoneted the enemy soldier. There were four men, a light machine gun (LMG) and a recoilless (RCL) gun in that first bunker they encountered. Ekka was shot in the arm but the bunker was quickly taken over. Thereafter, all hell broke loose.
Pakistani troops started lighting up the area, firing illumination rounds. LMG and MMG fire was directed at the two attacking companies. The night rang out with the sound of gunfire and cries of men attacking each other. There was a pond behind the railway station with a bandh (dam) around it and the enemy soldiers had fortified the entire area with numerous bunkers. A and B Companies, with 120 men each, split up here. While A Company moved straight down, B Company moved around the pond, from one enemy bunker to another. Molotov Cocktails were charged and activated. Flinging them at the enemy soldiers the two companies moved on with complete disregard for their personal safety. They went from bunker to bunker, assaulting armed soldiers and taking over the enemy positions. The single aim was to kill enemy soldiers and clear the bunkers. Despite the bullet in his arm Ekka was charging like a lion. He was walking alongside Maj Kohli when another bullet hit him in the neck.
Kohli watched him stagger and fall. ‘But then, he quickly picked himself up, stood tall and kept walking,’ he recounts. By then, the men had reached the railway signal building from where the MMG was firing continuously. It was a big hindrance to the soldiers. There was a need to silence the deadly machine gun. This was exactly where Ekka would perform his supreme act of bravery. In the battle of Gangasagar, 11 soldiers lost their lives while one officer, three junior commissioned officers (JCOs) and 55 other ranks were seriously injured. Twenty-five enemy soldiers were killed while six were taken prisoners of war.
The battalion was awarded three Sena Medals, one Vir Chakra and one Param Vir Chakra (PVC) for the bravery of its men. Besides Ekka’s brave feat, that got him his PVC posthumously, there were many individual acts of sacrifice and cold courage that made highlights in the Battle of Gangasagar. Tilak Ram of RCL platoon managed to pinpoint the position of the enemy RCL gun and, unmindful of his own safety, jumped on the enemy, killing two soldiers on the spot. For his act of bravery, Tilak Ram was awarded a Sena Medal. Young artillery officer Captain K. Mahadevan, who was providing fire support to his own troops, was repeatedly exposed to enemy fire but refused to move and kept directing artillery fire to support the Indian troops. He was also decorated with a Sena Medal.
The advance along the railway line was also subjected to heavy fire. Major Tara, the right forward company commander, did not think twice before rushing to the enemy MMG and, flinging a Molotov cocktail and grenade at the bunker, pulled the gun out. This daring action brought him a Vir Chakra. The PVC given to Ekka was even more special for all concerned with the action because it was the first to come to Bihar and also the first won by the brigade of the Guards. It was the only PVC awarded in the Eastern Theatre as well.
Lance Naik Albert Ekka was the son of Julius and Mariam Ekka. Born and brought up in a village in Bihar, he came from an adivasi tribe in Ranchi and was a devout Christian. From the time when he was a little boy Albert was fond of hunting and like all adivasis was an expert at tracking and hunting animals, often using his bow and arrow. He was also good at games. His love for adventure and his hunting skills made him an excellent soldier. When Albert grew up he was very keen to join the Army since it appealed to his sense of adventure and action.
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Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon
Srinagar
14 December 1971
It is another freezing morning at the Srinagar air force base. And who would know the bone-chilling cold better than the 26-year- old, tall and lanky Flying Officer Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon, with the crisp upturned moustache, and Flight Lieutenant Baldhir Singh Ghuman, both of whom have got there at 4. 30 a. m. in a bus with most of its windowpanes missing. The 45-minute ride from Badami Bagh officers’ mess, where they live in dingy, dimly lit rooms, to the airbase has made their teeth chatter and nearly frozen their joints but for the pilots of 18 Squadron (Flying Bullets), this is routine. Those on morning shift have to get to the base and be battle ready at least half-hour before daylight. Pilots on two-minute standby have to remain strapped to their seats in the cockpit of their parked planes but since it is extremely cold, they are relieved after every three hours. The two young officers are sitting in the small, cramped aircrew room, 30 m from where their Gnats are parked in the open, though neatly camouflaged, pens. Since it has been a particularly foggy morning with very low flight visibility, they have been taken off the two-minute standby, but are still on air defence alert and a five-minute standby, which means they should be able to get airborne in five minutes. Both are from the 18 Squadron, which has been stationed at Ambala but is now more at Srinagar since March 1971 after tensions have escalated between India and Pakistan. Until now, the Indian Air Force has been following UN restrictions of no combat aircraft in Jammu and Kashmir. Neither Sekhon nor Ghuman are new to Kashmir’s terrain and weather and both are fully confident since they have complete faith in the Gnats they fly. The tiny planes have been termed Sabre Slayers after their phenomenal performance in the ‘65 war when they held their own against the larger Pakistani Sabre jets, shooting down as many as seven of them.
Suddenly, an alarm is sounded from Awantipur Airbase. Pakistani Sabre jets are headed towards Srinagar. Since the base does not have air defence radar and visibility is also low, it is very difficult to spot enemy planes till they are very close. A chain of observation posts has been set up along the hill crest in the west where a soldier from the local regiment is put on duty. He has a battery-operated radio set and his task is to report immediately if he spots enemy aircraft in the air. The two fighter pilots are told to be on Standby 2. They run out of the aircrew room and make a dash for the pens where their faithful Gnats are standing. Clipping on his helmet, Sekhon, called Brother by his friends, climbs into his Gnat. Ghuman, popularly called G’Man, makes a dash for his own plane. Both are in high spirits. It is every pilot’s desire to get a slice of action and it looks like the dream is about to come true for the two of them today.
Earlier that day, in Pakistan A formation of four plus two F 86 Sabres of Pakistan Air Force’s 26 Squadron (Black Spiders) takes off from Peshawar air force base and heads towards Kashmir. Their orders are to dive into the Kashmir Valley, bomb Srinagar, turn and get back to Pakistan. Each is carrying two 500- pound bombs and is ready for attack. All six Sabres also carry external 760 litre fuel tanks to stretch their endurance. While four of them are on the bombing mission, the other two are escorting them to facilitate the attack. Both have six fully loaded M3 Browning machine guns.
The 14 December strafing of Srinagar airbase was not the first time that the beautiful city had been bombed by Pakistan air force planes. In the 1971 War, the Srinagar airfield was subjected to 14 such daylight attacks. According to Air Commodore (retd) Ramesh V. Phadke, who was Sekhon’s course mate and also posted in Srinagar in the same squadron during the war, the reason for this was not just the easy access Pakistan had to the Valley, but also the fact that they had stationed an intelligence agent in Srinagar, who would warn them if the deadly Gnats were in the air. On more than two occasions, the enemy planes had retreated from the Pir Panjal Pass because they had received information that the dreaded Sabre Slayers were in the air, he says.
On this morning, the Sabres cross Pakistan and enter India by flying over the Pir Panjal range at 10, 000 feet. They are spotted when they cross Awantipur air force base, and an alarm is immediately raised. At the Srinagar Airbase, Sekhon and Ghuman have started their Gnats. The airbase has a 3, 500-yard runway, a parallel taxi track and a few airplane shelters made of concrete, called blast pens, right at the end of the runway where four Gnats are usually stationed at a time. The two fighter pilots are impatiently waiting for clearance from the air traffic control, which is a dug-out on the eastern side of the runway. The din of the approaching planes is getting closer every moment and now reverberating in their ears. Ghuman decides not to wait any more and takes off. By then the Sabres are overhead and two of them have dropped lower and are strafing the airstrip. Ignoring the risk to his own life,
Sekhon, who has been waiting for the runway to clear, lifts offin another 20 seconds. Even as the two Sabres drop their bombs on the air strip, his Gnat lifts gracefully into the air. Beneath him the air strip is covered with smoking potholes. Above him, somewhere in the fog, is Ghuman. Ideally, the scramble or the order for takeoffshould have been cancelled since the enemy aircraft were overhead and had already begun bombing the runway, but this does not concern Sekhon, who smiles to himself and pulls the joystick. He doesn’t know then that this is the last time he and Ghuman will fly together.
Once in the air, Sekhon immediately lines up behind the two Sabres that are regrouping after their bomb run and starts chasing them. Ghuman is lost in the fog. They have lost each other and will not reconnect. Ghuman will land back on the bombed airstrip, half an hour after the air battle is over. After a fierce and daring fight at treetop height, the completely outnumbered Sekhon would have crashed in the valley by then, his parachute only half deployed.
The moment the Sabres realize they are being chased by the tiny though lethal Gnat, they take a sharp left turn. High on adrenaline, Sekhon turns with them and fearlessly follows. His voice crackles over the radio set: ‘I am behind two Sabres. I wont let the bastards get away.’ Meanwhile, Sabre nos 3 and 4 have also dropped their bombs and are pulling up. While Sabre no. 3 spots the dogfight and joins up with the two Sabres Sekhon is chasing, Sabre no. 4, possibly waylaid by the fog, turns back towards Pakistan. Sekhon positions himself behind Sabre no. 2 and opens fire with his 30-mm gun. The familiar gunfire is heard at the airbase. A plume of fire and smoke is seen rising from the Sabre. Flight Lieutenants Bopaya and Naliyan of18 Squadron later verify seeing a Sabre with its right wing on fire. Pakistan denies any hit. Sekhon revs up his engines and now decides to go after Sabre no. 1. Sabre no. 3 has, however, closed the gap and Sekhon is sandwiched between the two large planes with the one behind shooting at him. The three get locked in a fierce dogfight. ‘I’m in a circle of joy, but with two Sabres. I am getting behind one, but the other is getting an edge on me,’ Sekhon’s voice is heard on the radio.
None of the action is visible to onlookers from the airfield. The Sabre behind Sekhon continuously spews out a stream of 0.5” bullets, but he dodges them efficiently and continues to trail the Sabre in front. The third Sabre shoots his gun empty and fails to get a hit. The Pakistanis are shocked when the pilot’s voice crackles on the radio: ‘Three is Winchester,’ meaning he has finished 1, 800 rounds and his guns cannot fire any more.
Ammunition finished, Sekhon drops out of the fight and is now free of its threat. He uses this moment of temporary relief to straighten and drop his external fuel tanks so that he is much lighter and more agile. He goes after Sabre no. 1 with renewed enthusiasm. Nimbler than before, he starts making even tighter turns. The Sabre tries its best to lose the Gnat on its tail, but Sekhon closes in and after he gets the Sabre in his shooting range, starts firing at it with his 30-mm cannon. The Sabre gives up and makes an SOS call for help. Sekhon is completely unaware that the formation of attacking Sabres actually has six and not four planes and that the two escorts are watching the fight from a distance, astonished by the dexterity with which the Gnat is turning and holding the big Sabre prisoner. On hearing the SOS call they dive down. Gaining a speed advantage from its dive, one of the Sabres closes in on Sekhon. Sekhon spots the two newcomers and realizes he is outnumbered. The rear Sabre fixes the Gnat with his machine gun and makes a continuous attack. The Gnat gets the bullets.
I think I have been hit, G’Man come and get them, ‘is Sekhon’s last message. Trailing smoke and fire, the tiny Gnat tries to steady itself, but continues to lose height and snaps over backwards. It nosedives and corkscrews into a gorge near Badgam. Sekhon tries to save himself by ejecting but he is too low and his parachute does not deploy properly. He crashes. Ghuman lands on the badly bombed runway half an hour later.
When the crashed Gnat is finally found, it has 37 bullet holes around the rear fuselage, tail plane and fin. It has however singlehandedly sabotaged the attack by six Sabres, which is a remarkable achievement. For his exemplary courage and heroism in the Indo-Pakistan War of 1971, Flying Officer Sekhon is posthumously awarded the Param Vir Chakra. He remains the only Air Force personnel to be awarded the country’s highest gallantry award. Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon was born in RurkaIsewal village of Ludhiana, Punjab, on 17 July 1945. He was the son of Warrant Officer Trilok Singh Sekhon, which made him a second-generation officer of the Indian Air Force. Sekhon was commissioned into the Air Force on 4 June He was from the 97 GD (P) Pilots’ Course and was posted to No. 18 Squadron (Flying Bullets) in October He was a brave though unassuming man with a lot of experience in flying Gnats.
More than six feet tall, Sekhon was lanky with an awkward gait and people sometimes wondered how he could fit into the cockpit of the tiny Gnat. He was a simple man from a rustic background and was affectionately called ‘Brother’ by his course mates and friends because of his habit of starting all conversations with the word ‘Brother’, a literal translation of the word ‘bhai’ that he probably used in his village.
He was twenty-six years old when he died and had been married for just a few months, most of which he had spent on duty in Srinagar. He was awarded the Param Vir Chakra for his heroic action during the bombing of Srinagar airbase by Pakistan. The young and fragile Mrs Sekhon, draped in a white shawl, receiving the PVC from President V. V. Giri, is a poignant image immortalized in the records of the Indian Air Force. Mrs Sekhon later remarried. Freelance researcher Air Cmde (Retd) Ramesh V Phadke, who was Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon’s course mate, has helped recreate the atmosphere of the Srinagar airfield by sharing his memories and research for the underpublication book, Air Power and National Security.
Arun Khetarpal
Battle Of Basantar, Shakargarh Sector
16 December 1971
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