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In 1971, a disputed election and civil war in Pakistan caused 10 million refugees to flee from East Pakistan, now Bangladesh, into India. On 3 December, the Pakistani Air Force preemptively bombed 11 airfields in north-western India after India expressed support for the independence of East Pakistan. The third Indo-Pak war had begun.
My battalion, the 3rd Battalion of Rajputana Rifles, was deployed at Kishengarh in the Rajasthan Sector on 3 December 1971 with the task of capturing Islamgarh by 6 am on 5 December, 1971, which was successfully captured.
On the morning of 8 December 1971, the Commanding Officer (CO) suddenly summoned me to his bunker. Since I was the Intelligence Officer, I expected to accompany him on a visit to the Brigade or some neighbouring battalion. Instead, to my utter surprise and excitement, I was told that I was being sent on a special mission. I was to infiltrate 15 kilometres inside Pakistan to Bhai Khan Wala Khu. The mission was to carry out reconnaissance of the Pakistani post there and, if possible, capture it.
The intelligence report read - “It is likely held by a section of Pakistan regular army.”
Bhai Khan Wala Khu was in the critical Longewala sector. After capturing Islamgarh earlier, we were now to advance on axis Islamgarh- Bhai Khan Wala Khu and provide flank protection to 12 Infantry Division.
I (Lieutenant Probir Sur then) was a 22-year-old officer, commissioned to 3 Rajputana Rifles just 14 months earlier. Now, I was to undertake a critical mission on behalf of my country at war.
After completing his briefing, the CO asked me, “Any doubts, officer, that need clarification?”, to which I replied, “No sir, no doubts.” But I also knew that I needed to do all I could to make the mission successful. “Sir, I am not very familiar with the troops given to me,” I told the CO. “I would request we add the troops from Charlie company, where I was initially attached for a month in Mizoram. I operated with the troops in many counter-insurgency activities. I would also request to take along Naik Rajender Singh of my Intelligence section, extremely good in navigation in the deserts,” I added.
The CO granted both my requests. I then left to prepare my team.
Although sunny, it was the middle of winter, and so, the next morning was chilly. Sipping a hot cup of tea, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the task ahead. I checked my equipment multiple times, particularly my Carbine machine gun and the three magazines in my ammunition pouch. I met my mission team near the Durga Mata temple in front of the Kishengarh fort. Each soldier, with a ‘red tika’ on his forehead, gave a fearless look.
We commenced the infiltration inside the unknown enemy territory at 1230 hrs. Intelligence officer Singh led the column. On camels, the Border Security Force (BSF) covered the southern flank of the column. We were fortunate as we spotted a civilian and apprehended him. A quick interrogation revealed that he was a resident of a nearby village. He explained that regular Pakistani Army troops were manning the post at Bhai Khan Wala Khu.
Reluctantly, he accepted our proposal to guide us there. Careful to avoid enemy detection, we moved towards the target at a steady pace. As soon as we established our observation post, I sent a radio message to Battalion HQ: “Infiltration complete.”
It was dark now and a strong wind was blowing over the dunes, making the chilled temperature feel even colder. A vehicle’s headlights appeared in the south, pointed towards Bhai Khan Wala Khu. Ever the firebrand, Havaldar Jai Narain was on his feet, ready to ambush the vehicle. I had to stop him and explain, “We have a greater task ahead. We can’t afford to expose ourselves.” As the lights drew closer, we realised that it was a light vehicle. Perhaps the post Commander was returning to the post? The movement of the vehicle gave me a rough idea of the enemy’s position – he was perhaps only 900 to 1000 metres away. I ordered a group to set up another observation post to the north, and then personally led a patrol forward.
The air was still and the sound of the dumping of weapons in stores and loud conversations by the enemy force had put my troops on edge. Some of them even believed that the enemy had surrounded us. I, too, was anxious, but remembered from my training in the military academy that this feeling was normal given the circumstances. I urged everyone to remain alert and not to be afraid, reassuring them that we were much stronger than the enemy.
By now, I was convinced that the enemy was more than a platoon in size and it was beyond our capacity to overcome them. Although I had informed my CO of the situation, he ordered me to launch our assault on the enemy position. He said that the General Officer Commanding had instructed him to take immediate action, irrespective of casualties. This order left me aghast. I called for Subedar Sambhu Ram and asked him to prepare for the assault.
He told us reinforcement was on the way, along with Major JR Rajput, our Company Commander.
The reinforcements arrived on the morning of 10 December. I briefed Major JR Rajput and he decided to launch an attack at first light.
0500 hrs: After synchronising our watches, we waited for a green signal from the Company Commander. I could sense that the men were getting impatient – a mix of excitement and anxiety. Major Rajput called me to a corner and pulled out a small bottle of whisky. He gulped some and offered me the bottle. I politely refused. The sky was brightening rapidly.
We moved carefully and steadily. I expected danger at any moment. After advancing about 200 metres, the scouts before me stopped suddenly and ducked. I moved to the front of the pack, where my Points man showed to me the morning’s first light shining off something in front of us. It was the barrel of a gun peeking out from a bunker covered with a camouflage net. I was ecstatic. We had found the enemy's position.
Over the radio, I passed on information about the location to Major Rajput. Moments later, he was next to me, telling all the platoons to get ready for the assault. Now, just 600 metres away from the enemy, the battlefield came alive. The Pakistani Bren Machine Guns spat a deadly stream of bullets at us. Nothing in my battle inoculation training had prepared me for this.
Confused, my men started looking for cover. A jawan rushed over. He said the Company Commander had been hit and also delivered his order that I take command. The enemy was shooting indiscriminately, its machine gun fire now buttressed by two-inch mortar bombs.
“Every man comes with his own destiny,” I told my men.
“Har insaan, har jawan apni kismet leke aata hai. Ya toh uski kismet mein zindagi likhi hai yah phir maut. Par agar hamari kismet mein aaj jung mein shaheed hona hai – toh yaad rakho ki ek nahin, kam se kam das dushman ko saath leke maro.”
("Every person, every soldier is born with a destiny. He is destined to either live or die. But in today’s war, if we are fated to die, we must make sure that we go down with least 10 enemies each, so that we have not died in vain but with dignity.”)
My men responded as warriors, ready to charge without fear.
By now, it was certain that the enemy was a company in strength, with about 100 soldiers. We, on the other hand, were smaller in strength. I was neither frightened nor deterred, but mindful that the lives of so many men were in my hands. We promptly established a firebase comprising a Medium Machine Gun, a Light Machine Gun and two-inch mortar. It lay down effective fire on the enemy.
Although we had stabilised the situation, the enemy’s numbers meant that attacking them head-on would mean our annihilation. It was critical to capture the Bren Machine Gun/BMG. So, we adopted a strategy that was simple but unconventional. All three platoons were to reach as close as possible to the enemy’s defences, using the foliage and folds of the sandy ground as cover. I took several troops from the 9th platoon and executed this plan.
Meanwhile, Naik Bhanwar Singh brought heavy mortar fire on the enemy’s right flank. This allowed my group to move to within 50 metres of the enemy’s machine-gun post, undetected. But suddenly, they spotted us and started to fire directly at us. Rifleman Prahalad Singh next to me pushed me hard to the ground. He saved my life but got shot himself. I had no option but to leave my loyal friend for first aid and move ahead.
Naik Meer Singh, having moved very close to the enemy’s position, lobbed a hand grenade. His bravery allowed my group to move right behind the Bren Machine Gun bunker. Excited and charged up, I ordered the men to fix bayonets and charge the final 40 metres.
As a soldier, ferocity is important, but so is compassion. We accepted their surrender and took them in as prisoners of war.
On the other flank, the fighting continued. I rushed forward with the rest of the 9th platoon to join the other platoons engaged with the enemy. One by one, we cleared the enemy bunkers and fire trenches even as bullets whizzed past us. Doonga Ram, Harnarain, Zile Singh, Meer Singh, Kamal Singh, Ishwar Singh, Nihal Singh, all my Battalion sportsmen and Rajender from my Intelligence Section, were determined to complete our mission.
At this point, I was so grateful that the CO had let me pick my team – these brave soldiers and fierce sportsmen and I had taken on many opponents together before. Three of them got critically wounded in this final push, including Havildar Doonga Ram and Harnarain. A bullet had pierced Doonga Ram’s lungs. He was bleeding profusely. Lying next to me, writhing in pain, he could barely retain consciousness. Using sterilised cotton packs, I bandaged the wound and gave him a morphine shot. I prayed he would survive.
As we cleared the western side, Major Rajput, his wound dressed, rejoined us. Motivated by his presence, we ultimately captured another 14 prisoners of war with arms. But the battle was not over yet. One Ranger from the 28th Baluch refused to surrender. Despite being surrounded, he fought gallantly, bringing continuous automatic fire on us even as his fellow soldiers surrendered or escaped. After nearly half an hour of fighting, he died as a brave soldier defending his country.
Since we did not have the Indian tricolour flag, the unit joined together to sing the national anthem. It was the most emotional and eventful moment of my life, filled with pride and joy. It reminded me of listening to the scintillating voice of Melville De Mello on the radio as a child, as he narrated the Indian hockey team’s win over Pakistan in the gold medal game at the Tokyo Olympics in 1964.
Soon, the Alpha company, the artillery and the battalion doctor arrived, having run 15 kilometres to relieve us. I was reassured when he told me that Doonga Ram was conscious and would survive. We buried the martyred enemy soldiers, including the brave Lance Naik Sher Khan, with honour and in accordance with the Geneva Convention. After our night-long vigil and a gruesome four-hour battle, tired, exhausted, and hungry, I lay down to rest under a Khejri tree.
On 10 December 1971, the All India Radio reported the outcome of the battle of Bhai Khan Wala in its 9 pm bulletin. Yet, the victory never caught the attention of the mainstream media then, nor was the courage and dedication of the soldiers who fought there sufficiently recognised with gallantry awards. It is a paradox of battle that soldiers only receive this acknowledgement posthumously. Despite this, India’s service members continue to carry out their duties with devotion and dedication.
(Lieutenant Probir Sur and his fellow soldiers escorted the 24 POWs to the Battalion headquarters as part of a camel caravan. For their bravery, the troops of Charlie company were decorated with one Sena Medal, two mentions in dispatches, and one COAS Commendation Card.)
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