THE GARUD STRIKES (14 page)

Now Akhaura had been encircled and the guardsmen had to hold on till such time as the remaining two units of the brigade completed the task of capturing it and flushing the enemy out of it.

However, the enemy did not seem in the mood to cooperate. Also, if the Pakistanis wanted to get out of Akhaura alive, they definitely needed to get rid of the guardsmen blocking their rear. That’s why, like cornered cats, for the next sixty hours, they inflicted hell on 4 Guards, especially those of Alpha Company who were in the forefront and thus took the brunt of the enemy response.

The night of 2nd December passed with repeated probes and jitter parties being sent out by the Pakistanis. Their armour, too, kept probing the guardsmen.

However, 4 Guards managed to hold them at bay with small arms fire and also the supporting artillery, which was by now firmly in action. Also supporting them was the battalion’s mortar platoon, commanded most commendably by Captain RAK Maneck of 1 Sikh Light Infantry.

The dashing, rakish Maneck had arrived in 4 Guards earlier in the year; a disciplinary case. He was attached with 4 Guards for an enquiry whilst the unit was in the Mizo Hills. Just before war broke out, when 4 Guards got orders to move, they were also instructed to send Maneck to the HQ of an adjoining brigade. However, Himmeth requested Mishra to retain him, not just because they had taken a liking to him, but also because he happened to be mortar qualified, something which no other 4 Guards officer at that time was.

Himmeth’s decision to retain Maneck was to prove wise since he commanded the mortar platoon with great courage and distinction.

Hailing from this illustrious regiment myself, I had heard a lot about him and was looking forward to meeting Maneck. He proved to be every inch the diamond that the stories about him made him out to be. The passage of years had done nothing to dim the fire in his belly, or the mischief in his eyes.

The mortar platoon, deployed at Barisal, provided effective and accurate fire throughout the battle for Akhaura, despite losing a lot of its ammunition when the civilian porters panicked and ran.

Maneck was deployed so close to the action that he was actually able to see the attacking Pakistanis; and that is why the mortar fire was incredibly accurate.

‘I remember him very well even now. Maneck sahib was something else,’ the burly, bespectacled, gruff looking Honorary Captain Sube Singh still showed vestiges of the sportsman he had been in his younger days. ‘He had an amazingly positive attitude… nothing seemed to faze him at all.’

Moving just behind the battalion HQ, the mortar platoon was barely thirty minutes out from Litchi Bagan (the firm base from which the guardsmen had been launched) when Pakistani artillery started up.

‘Within minutes, the Mukti Bahini boys who had been helping us to carry our ammunition had vanished. We lost a lot of ammunition because of them,’ Sube sounded irritated. ‘When we left Litchi Bagan, all the clerks, barbers and everyone else had been given two rounds each to carry. This was the only lot that finally reached us because they stuck with us through everything. But most of the ammunition being carried by the Mukti Bahini and even our own rifle companies did not. The Bahini boys took off and our rifle companies were scattered around and almost constantly in contact with the enemy, so they could not get it to us,’ Sube Singh paused momentarily to gather his thoughts. He appeared conscious of the tape recorder running in front of him and was perhaps anxious to get the facts right.

‘As for our men,’ he smiled wickedly, ‘the same buggers whom I had to hound and cajole to dig their foxholes properly during training, now burrowed in like over-caffeinated rabbits soon as the shelling started.’ He gave us another smile, as beatific as the previous one. ‘And when the artillery shelling would stop, we had to pull them out and yell at them to get them moving again.’

However, when it was all calm after the very first round of shelling, all efforts to arouse Signal Operator Biswanath failed. He had gotten unlucky. The shell had landed close to him.

‘It was so hard to believe. He didn’t look dead,’ Sube looked momentarily befuddled. ‘And he had been alive just a few moments ago.’

Aware that the radio set and the drum of telephone wire Biswanath had been carrying was critical for the mortar platoon to provide fire support to the rifle companies, Sube Singh retrieved both from his body.

‘The drum was very heavy and an awkward load to carry, but I lugged it along till the going became almost impossible due to the slush. Finally, when I just could not cope any more, I had to abandon it. But I still kept carrying the radio set.’

Then the mind numbing shelling started again. But they kept going.

When the two groups of men ran into each other, neither realized the enemy was in their midst.

‘It was only when one of our boys in front began to shout that we realized they were Pakistani soldiers,’ Sube Singh grinned. I guess the memory was as funny now as the reality had been shocking then. ‘At first, no one reacted. We were all stunned. Then my boys forgot about the mortars we were carrying and tried to engage the Pakistanis, but it was all happening too fast and there was simply too much confusion around. The Pakistanis began to run away with my boys in chase.’

Regaining control of the platoon, they resumed the infiltration, moving just ahead of the battalion HQ.

The mortar platoon had barely crossed Akhaura when they got orders to deploy. Despite there being no cover available, Maneck deployed the platoon and brought the mortars into action.

By now the boys had gotten over the shock of shelling, and their morale was high. Three of the four rifle companies were in contact and the need for covering fire was critical. Requests flowed in simultaneously from both Alpha and Bravo companies ensuring the mortar platoon had no time to think. Just re-lay the mortars, check the settings and shoot. Soon the barrels were steaming hot.

‘Maneck sahib used to check the fire orders I was preparing and I used to double-check the ones he made. We wanted to ensure we got every thing right.’ Sube suddenly stopped and gave me an aggrieved look. ‘You know what I remember very clearly of the war?’ It was obviously a rhetorical question. ‘In all those days, we must have provided fire support dozens of times to every company, but it was only Major Marwah who ever called back to say that he appreciated our efforts and that we had done a great job.’

Perhaps it was a long buried feeling that had been unleashed as he relived those moments.

‘I remember that very clearly,’ Sube Singh repeated, and then shrugged. ‘Not that we did not do our best for the others also. But Marwah sahib was the only one who expressed his appreciation.’

Sube Singh waited for me to say something. I figured a response was required; the emotion did need to be acknowledged and put to rest. ‘I quite understand, sahib. Life is like that; more so war. We tend to take our own for granted,’ I gave my most supportive look. It seemed to pacify him, and he resumed.

‘And the other thing I remember very clearly was that unlike in exercises, where we are always deployed in such a manner that one or the other of the rifle companies is able to give us protection, it was not the case during this operation. Though battalion HQ was not too far behind us, since they were deployed near a mosque, but they were not close enough to help us if were attacked. Almost throughout the war, we were pretty much on our own.’ Sube Singh’s passion shone through even today. It was easy to see the spirit that had driven the guardsmen forward that day.

‘But nothing held us back. We gave our best, whenever and wherever we were asked to give fire support. The boys were just too good. And Maneck sahib… no matter what happened, he sustained us. I rarely saw him sleep, and he was always cheerful. He was always going around, talking to the men and keeping their spirits high,’ Sube did not bother to hide his admiration.

Despite his best efforts, Maneck knew that Himmeth was not at ease. It was the coming dawn that bothered Himmeth, for with it would come the Pakistani armour. By now there could be little doubt in the minds of the Pakistani commanders about the Indian intent and force levels; it was certain that they would do their utmost to stall the offensive and dislodge them. Time and terrain both stood firmly in favour of Pakistan.

Knowing that his boys would not be able to withstand the Pakistani armour without anti-tank weapons, Himmeth sent Captain Sahni back to get the RCL guns up post haste.

As the second bloody day drew to a close, Sahni headed back to look for the missing RCL guns. To do that, he had to find their tanks; which were supposed to have delivered the RCL guns to them.

‘We had initially harboured at the old Malanchabas Palace Grounds, behind the Governor’s house,’ Lieutenant Raj Mohan pointed out. ‘Later my troop was shifted to Litchi Bagan where 4 Guards were located.’

‘Is that when you first met the unit?’ I had a hazy idea of the cavalryman before me, or his role in those sixteen bloody days.

‘No, no. I first came in contact with 4 Guards early in 1971,’ the lanky cavalryman was smiling as he embraked down memory lane. ‘I had been sent to collect our fourteen tanks, which were arriving by a special military train at Dharamnagar, the last railhead in Tripura. I then had to take these tanks down an old, partly metalled road, which had many small bridges and culverts.’

Many of these bridges and culverts were so small that they would have collapsed with the weight of a tank. That necessitated leaving the road and navigating dozens of slushy rivers and nullahs. To make matters more interesting, Raj was only allowed to travel in hours of darkness, to keep the presence and number of tanks a secret from the Pakistanis.

‘The atmosphere was already surcharged with war clouds,’ Raj explained. ‘On both sides, troops had begun to muster and hectic preparations were underway. In fact, sporadic clashes and exchange of fire, even artillery fire, had become quite the norm.’

Raj and his caravan of fourteen tanks seemed to have been on the road forever before they arrived. It was late evening when the first tank reached the Teliamura hilltop. It was the same hill that would later on become the tactical HQ of 4 Corps of the Indian Army, which, under Lieutenant General Sagat Singh, would lead the dash to Dacca.