Painting by Group Capt Deb Gohain
Location: Air Force Station, Hasimara or 16 Wing in North Bengal. As a young Flying Officer with less than four years of service, I had then been with 37 Squadron, the Black Panthers, for exactly three years since 04 December 1968, and had achieved operational status by day on Hunter Mk 56/6 in October 1970. However, due to 52 pilots in the squadron at one time in the late 1960s, I had all of 240 hours of flying on the aircraft. In prelude to this fateful day in our lives, we had been on alert for over 6 months from the summer of 1971 in view of the political and military situation in East Pakistan. So, in the evening of 3rd December, when the news started filtering in of the Pakistani air attacks on Indian airfields in the West, somehow there was little reaction, and, at least, no apprehension of what was to come the next morning. After all, we had been training for this day and were eager to get into the real thing. I was also fortunate enough to have been on some reconnaissance missions inside East Pakistan with my new CO since April 1971, Wing Commander SK ‘Suppi’ Kaul, who had trained the squadron in tactical photoreconnaissance with the new Vinten cameras that had been fitted on a number of our squadron aircraft. That also removed the fear of the unknown to a large extent. But then, I had also been the adjutant of the squadron since mid-1969 and my more pressing task that evening was to go down to the airmen’s billets and caution all the men on what was to come as also to remind them of the black-out and other passive precautionary air defence measures to be taken. It got dark pretty fast in the East in winter so it was not too late before I was back in the bar to have a bottle of beer, to make me sleep without the mosquitoes bothering me much, something to eat and in bed for the early morning briefing in Base Ops at 0430h the next day.
We, a number of youngsters from the Officers’ Mess, all piled up in my good old Ambassador early next morning and were there in the Base Ops well in time, to pull the friendly Ops Officer’s leg a little for not being on the flying program, before the briefing started. Mine was the first mission over Tezgaon airfield in Dacca with Suppi in the lead, Call Sign Mission 501, Flt Lt Billoo Sangar No 2, Sqn Ldr Allan Mascarenhas (Mascy) No 3 with me in the 4th slot. I had been Suppi’s permanent wingman for a couple of months despite him calling me the Angry Young Man (AYM) but that’s another slightly funny story for another time. ToT was at 0705h IST with the take off at 0630h for the 181 nautical mile ride one way to Tezgaon. The mission was counter air with all four 100 gallon external tanks with 4×135 30 mm Aden Guns due to radius of action considerations. Even in this configuration, we were some 14 miles beyond our calculated radius of action at low level and thus had no combat fuel. I had raised this issue with the CO and we had debated the effectiveness of going just with guns at low level and expecting to find Pak Sabres out in the open just for us and had considered going out to meet the F-86 Sabres in the air, since 14 Squadron of PAF in the East only had 17 reported aircraft and we had tremendous numerical superiority, but this was not accepted initially at higher levels. Since we didn’t have the gas to engage in combat, we were briefed to disengage and head home if we were bounced and two MiG-21s from Gauhati were allotted to RV with us over target to keep us safe.
Coming out of Base Ops to get to the aircrew room, into our flying gear and to the allotted aircraft in a rush, I found that my old “Amby” had given up on us due to all the misuse & unintended abuse, this being the only car for all the bachelors in Hasimara for about two years. When my father had relented and given me this 1968 model Ambassador in early 1970, it had a beautiful deep metallic grey colour. After two monsoons of Hasimara, the colour had been washed to a dirty off-white. The car now had a flat with the spare wheel already stolen during a party in Kalchini club earlier. Cursing & muttering with no spare wheel and not even the time to find one and change the wheel, all 6-7 of us set off in a trot for the squadron to make it in time when Wing Commander Dudley Gomes, the Chief Technical Officer of the base, stopped by us in his official Jeep. Dudley Sir asked me what had happened to my car and piled all 6 or 7 of us in his Jeep, literally hanging from the edges and holding on to the sides for dear life. He literally ordered and took the keys to my Amby from me regardless of my protests that there was no spare wheel. Why I describe this is to illustrate the camaraderie on the base and the frame of mind in which we took off for the mission because when I came back, I found the car parked in front of the Flight Commander’s office with a note under the wiper blade, like a parking ticket saying ‘Keep the spare as long as you need and at least till the war is over’. Remember I was only a Flying Officer then and a Wing Commander was pretty big on the base. But then, this is how the relationship in bases was those days between the pilots and other branches. Even the Senior Logistics Officer or the Accounts Officer, all senior Squadron Leaders, treated us like younger brothers and were always ready to help as also party with us. I could narrate many stories on this issue but, then, I would be digressing from the main story of the 4th.
Fortunately, I was in time for the small brief and a cuppa of tea with the CO & the leader and was soon off to the Chiefy, Flt Sgt Chowdhary, for the aircraft. For us, the Chiefy was the boss of the aircraft and all stuff technical in the Squadron and Chiefy Chowdhary was always respected. He promptly allotted me my favourite aircraft, BA 291, on which I had carried out most of my reconnaissance missions earlier and the aircraft had always got me back without problems. We started up from dispersed pens at about 0615h to find that Suppi’s aircraft did not start and Mascy’s aircraft had a hydraulic leak. Suppi quickly jumped into the standby aircraft and since all the other squadron aircraft were committed to different missions, decided to carry on with 3 aircraft, with me in the No. 3 position. As we took off on runway 09, with me streaming behind Suppi and Billoo, even 291 let me down a bit and I found that I could not get my landing gear switch in to raise the gear. I kept trailing the two aircraft ahead and pulling away from me while setting course south since I had to stay below 250 knots while I kept trying to get the switch to give. Fortunately, visibility was literally unlimited and I could keep Suppi & Billoo in sight for a long time as specks, and also by cutting into the turn. Finally, I kind of instinctively decided to use the override switch, not normally permitted, since this was an operational mission. Later, I tried to reason this out as that I did not want to be left out or let the CO go to war in a 2 aircraft formation. The reason was, perhaps, also since I had been the flying wingman to Suppi for some time and kind of got attached to him. The instinct paid off in the end.
Soon, I was in position as No. 3 on Suppi’s left abreast at about 1500 yards while Billoo stayed 200 yards from Suppi on his right in battle formation. The day was beautiful with unlimited visibility while we cruised along the planned route with little tactical routing due to fuel constraints. However, low clouds off the ground mist appeared as we penetrated the plains of East Pakistan south of Tura in the low Khasi Hills. These low clouds made us visible for miles to anyone looking for us from above but, fortunately, started thinning close to the target. About two minutes short of Tezgaon, as we left the Initial Point (IP) at 420 knots for the run to the Pull Up Point (PUP) hugging the deck at or below 100 feet. I spotted two Sabres on the right at 3 O’clock high at about 5 miles. As I reported this, Suppi called up the MiG-21s from Gauhati that were supposed to meet us directly over Tezgaon airfield to take care of us while we concentrated on the attack. The MiG, leader, I think he was called YnA, for Young and Agile, asked Suppi for our position so that they could come and help. While this conversation of ‘where are you’ was going on with no visual contact between the MiGs and us due to our relative positions, the two Sabres closed in from 3 O’clock to astern position in a neat guided right turn, with the Sabre in the lead behind Suppi and Billoo at about 2500 yards and the other one moving in behind me, perhaps a little further and visible in the mirror. This neat turn into interception and attack confirmed that the Pakistanis had moved their low looking radar, AR-1, North of Dacca since most of us were expected from the North.
Subconsciously, I think we were accelerating to about 450 to 480 knots while I was keeping an eye on both the Sabres with the R/T thick with these calls between Suppi & YnA when I saw a white plume under the belly of the lead Sabre when he had closed in to about 2000 yards to Suppi. While this was actually the fuel whoosh or swirl due to Sabre dropping his tanks in an effort to close the distance, as I later realized, at that time I actually thought of a sidewinder launch since Int had earlier briefed us that some of the Pakistani Sabres had been modified to carry the early sidewinder missiles. Instinctively, I ordered tactical action with a Hard Right and, in my eagerness to get to the Sabre behind Suppi while looking out for the one behind me, I hauled 8g or more with my neck hurting from the effort of craning under this g-load. I think I caught the Sabres by surprise, at least the one behind me, since I saw him sliding out of my turn instead of cutting in to close the distance and threaten me. The Sabre behind Suppi & Billoo turned slightly left towards me to cross me at high angle off before I could be tempted to ignore the threat behind me and take a quick passing shot at him. As expected after about 90 degrees of turn, I lost contact with Suppi & Billoo under my belly and went through about 170 degrees of the turn to the course home of around 350.
Rolling out on this course, as briefed so as to disengage due to lack of combat fuel reserves, I initially did not pick up Suppi or Billoo at 0830-0930 O’clock as expected and asked Suppi for his position and whether he had contact with me as he should have after more than 90 degrees of the turn. Looking around and further back, I found two Hunters in a lazy turn at about 0730 to me with a Sabre 3-400 yards behind them and firing his guns as indicated from puffs of black smoke from his nose. I yelled “Hard Right, he is firing at you” and mindless of the fuel and the instructions not to engage, hauled my aircraft into a hard left followed by a sharp reversal to the right to get behind this Sabre while looking out for the one behind me. Due to the lower speed that these three aircraft were turning at, I quickly found myself at about 400 yards from the Sabre in a right turn with about 3 to 4 g with ranging & tracking like a demo with my gun-sight pipper right on the Sabre’s cockpit. All this was as practiced in mock combat so many times in peace but, unfortunately, the same peace-time drill made me press the camera button for a fraction of a second due to force of habit, and left me wondering why my guns were not firing. Cursing myself for this stupidity, I lowered the gun-trigger by which time, due to my hurry to get to the Sabre before he got Suppi or Billoo, and the high closing in speed while being inside the turn, I found myself at less than 100 yards from the Sabre. The Sabre was so huge now that he filled more than my entire front windshield. At this time, the Sabre sharply reversed to the left, perhaps having been warned by the one behind me. In this reversal, I put the cross on the Sabres’s spine around the right wing-root and pressed the trigger. This time, before I could even feel I had pressed it properly, my aircraft shuddered with all 4 guns firing and the Sabre just blew up in front of me, which seemed to stop it like a dead duck in its forward flight. Before I could even think of evasive action from all the debris, I flew right through the center of the explosion, yelling on the R/T “I got him”. Immediately, I heard one of the MIGs say well done and that the Sabre pilot had ejected.
Fortunately, because of flying through the center with all the debris flying outwards, I did not hear any thud of any debris hitting me but kept wondering till I landed back in Hasimara if my aircraft was damaged. Anyway, there was no time to dwell on this or even look inside to see if all systems were functioning correctly due to the Sabre last seen lurking behind me, I went back into a hard right looking for this second Sabre inside the turn but did not see anyone till I rolled out on course 350 for home. During this turn, I called out to Suppi to turn harder on to 350 and look for me inside his turn aiming to get them abreast of me on the left so as to cover each other for the ride back home. Initially I kept glancing at my rear-view mirror to see if the guy was still chasing me and kept the speed high while also looking around for Suppi & Billoo but did not see anyone. However, on the R/T, I established with some difficulty that both were safe and on their way home too since Suppi’s radio seemed to be having some problems, perhaps due to battle damage as I thought. Due to my chugging along with the landing gear initially and this brief engagement, I was now even lower on gas. So, after a couple of minutes at low level and high speed, I zoomed up to 15,000 feet or so dropped to range speed while mentally calculating if I could get home with the gas I had or not. Fortunately, I had just enough.
I landed in Hasimara straight in on the reciprocal Runway 27 almost in a glide at idling RPM from 15,000 feet with less than a 100 lbs of fuel with the gauges at empty, ready to glide in if the engine flamed out. As I taxied my faithful BA 291 into the pen, I found half the squadron had gathered there, cheering and waving. I also found Sqn Ldr Nanda Cariappa, Station Flight Safety Officer as well as CO of 111 HU there in his Jeep for me. Obviously, Suppi Kaul had told everyone about the events of the morning. Sweaty and soaking wet in my G-suit despite the winter morning, was I glad to get into the Jeep and get a hot cuppa in my hands and some into my belly to get the sugar levels going again. But before that, I did a quick visual of the aircraft and confirmed there was not a scratch on it and then, the airmen, led by Chiefy Chowdhary, lifted me up on their shoulders after a good hug from the Chiefy against all protocols. The men then followed the Jeep till the Flight Complex of the squadron, loudly cheering. I found Suppi and Billoo waiting out in the verandah and giving me another hug saying, ‘Thank God, you got back safe’.
The epilogue: The mystery deepened when I found neither Supi or Billoo’s aircraft had suffered any hits nor did they see any Sabre. Suppi’s radio problems were because of normal technical reasons. Where and how we lost contact with each other could never be established and we had little time to discuss this immediately while preparing for the next missions. At the same time, one of 17 squadron, the sister squadron in Hasimara, aircraft flown by my course mate, Buster Bains, had returned with 42 bullet holes. Fortunately, his aircraft kept flying with multiple system failures since the Sabres reportedly used ball ammo and not High Explosive or HE. Buster was No. 2 to Sqn Ldr Lele, with Nebb and Bajwa as the No. 3 & 4, and their ToT over Dacca was just 2 minutes after us. The lazy turn and the Sabre behind him fit with my story as did the call I made about having got the Sabre after which he didn’t feel any more hits and quietly returned to base nursing his aircraft all the way at medium speeds. So, he came back and told everyone in his squadron that Khappe’ (me) got the Sabre behind him as soon as he landed. Did they catch up with us and flew through under us when the Sabres switched from us to them? I really couldn’t say. Chiefy Chowdhary later told me that I had only fumes in my fuel tanks when I switched off. Also, that my aircraft had only fired 18 rounds from all four guns or less than 5 rounds per gun, which amounted to a burst of a quarter second or so. The next morning we went hunting for the Sabres in the air with 8 aircraft, four each from 37 and 17 squadrons with our formation the same four. However, the Sabres never came to meet us and by 5th night, the runways of Tezgaon and Kurmitola, at Dacca, had been busted by MiGs and Canberras so I never saw a Sabre in the air again during the war. On the morning of the 4th, we also lost two aircraft over Dacca to ack-ack, with their pilots, Sqn Ldr AB Samanta and Flt Lt SG Khonde. Such is the tide of war and life, I guess. A gun camera shot of the Sabre exploding less than 50 yards away is attached.
