Aeronaut

PAF on the Offensive - 1971 War

2011-08-05T10:09:00.014+05:00

Planners in the PAF clearly knew that for achieving a favourable situation over the battlefield, air defence alone would not suffice, and the the enemy air force had to be countered through offensive means as well. Runways and air defence radars of consequence were the considered choice targets and the PAF felt that sufficient disruption, if not outright neutralisation, could be effected. It was well-known that aircraft hidden away in concrete pens would be impervious to damage from air attack, while the well-camouflaged fuel storage facilities, ammunition dumps and command centres would also be problematic targeting choices.

PAF’s offensive counter-air campaign also had to be carefully orchestrated, as the limited resources could not be frittered away too early in the war, yet pressure had to be maintained throughout. It was decided to attack deeper bases only at night – when the potency of the interceptors’ targeting ability was the least effective – while the shallower ones could be attacked round the clock. Moreover, those 4-5 enemy airfields that could support an effort against Pak Army’s main offensive, would be attacked in full force, as and when the operation unfolded. Prudent adjustment of attack intensity over time, as well as correct assessment of the desired point of application of force – the ‘when’ and ‘where’ – were, thus, the keys to success of the campaign. PAF was hopeful of achieving a favourable air situation for a limited period, in a restricted area, to be able to provide meaningful air support to the Pak Army.

There have been disparaging commentaries about PAF’s purported ‘pre-emptive’ strikes on the evening of 3 December. An impression is conveyed as if it was beyond PAF’s professional acumen to pull off a feat of that order, totally disregarding the fact that it was none other than the PAF which had boldly struck IAF airfields pre-emptively on 6 September, 1965 (albeit, with mixed results). The IAF may not have been grounded as a result, but its confidence and esteem surely went crashing, right at the outset.

As has been stated earlier, in 1971, a fundamental difference was that all aircraft were parked inside harderned shelters. Closing down a few runways near to the border, even for short durations, was, therefore, considered a not-too-risky option and, well worth the effort. PAF had, wisely decided not to attempt anything foolhardy against deeper targets during daylight hours, which would result in considerable losses and a consequent blow to the morale, early on in the war. Seen in this light, PAF’s first dusk strikes were nothing more than the start of a disruptive counter-air campaign at best, aimed at overburdening the IAF in its flying effort generation capabilities.

To mock these initial strikes as a failed pre-emption effort is also unwarranted. India was not expected to launch any large-scale offensive on the Western front beyond general holding operations and improving defensive posture in some vulnerable areas, so the question of pre-emption did not arise. If at all there was something to be pre-empted, it was the Indian invasion that started surreptitiously at Jessore in East Pakistan on the night of 21/22 November. Alas, this option – and the only one with some military merit – was a non-starter, due to fear of intense international condemnation of an isolated Pakistan run by a much disparaged military dictator.

An interesting rationale for the initial strikes has been elaborated in his book, The Gold Bird[1] by Air Cdre Mansoor Shah, who was the Assistant Chief of Air Staff (Operations) during the war. Shah claims that these strikes were meant to provoke IAF into retaliating against PAF bases, which were the only well-defended target sets in the country. He goes on to state that it was important to keep the IAF’s attention focused on the bases or else, it might have switched to countrywide interdiction of lines of communications, where the PAF was defenceless. This line of reasoning posits that the IAF was not inclined to undertake airfield strikes, at least during daytime, unless provoked. The high attrition suffered by IAF during daylight airfield strikes and subsequent scaling down of these operations, would only suggest that the IAF had not thought out its counter-air strategy carefully. Reading too much into PAF’s ‘provocation’ trap would only result in a one-dimensional view and a wholly self-serving inference. Also, the fact that IAF had simultaneouly started its interdiction campaign targeting the lines of communications right from 4 December onwards, undermines Shah’s conjecture about where IAF’s priorities lay.

First Strikes

The airfields of Amritsar and Pathankot are located just two minutes flying time from the Pakistani border, which is insufficient, even for interceptors already airborne, to prevent any raiders from attacking. Even after the attack, there is not enough time for a fruitful chase before the raiders are safely across. A high speed exit, especially under cover of fast fading light, almost ensures a clean getaway. Similarly, the airfields at Srinagar and nearby Avantipur nestled in the vales of Kashmir, offer low flying raiders the prospect of ingressing and egressing unobserved by radar, under cover of hills.

Though the ease of attacking the above-mentioned airfields made them tempting targets anyway, they were also crucial due to their ability to support Indian ground forces in the vitally important Chamb and Shakargarh Sectors. PAF, therefore, decided to subject these airfields to a concerted, round-the-clock campaign starting at dusk on 3 December.

While the hilly terrain in Kashmir provided the necessary shielding against early radar pick up, the plains of Punjab offered no hindrance to the clear line of sight of IAF radars. Two most menacing early warning radars were the Type-35 located at Amritsar and Faridkot. These were, therefore, also singled out for neutralisation in the first wave. F-104s, which were earmarked for air defence of the Southern Sector while based at Masroor, were being held back at Sargodha for two days especially for these radar strikes.

As excitement built up for first strikes, the President and Chief Martial Law Administrator, General Yahya Khan decided to visit PAF’s Command Operations Centre (COC) to monitor the action first hand. As the President was leaving the Presidency, a most uncanny incident occurred, which could well have been out of a Hitchcock thriller. It is related by his ADC, Flt Lt Arshad Sami Khan in his very informative book, Three Presidents and an Aide[2]:

"At the appointed hour, General Hameed came in driving a Toyota military jeep with his ADC sitting next to him. Before I could lead him into the visitor's room General Yahya walked out to the porch. Greeting General Hameed, he pointed to the blue winter sky and said "Nice weather for flying, Ham".

"As we got into the jeep, both ADCs in the rear, General Hameed at the wheel, and the President in front passenger seat and began to move, an unusually large vulture, more like an American condor, appeared from almost thin air and landed a few metres ahead of us. It blocked the narrow road leading to the inner gate of the Presidency. General Hameed slowly moved up the jeep but the vulture refused to budge. Hameed blew the horn but that only made the bird stare back with great defiance. The President jumped out and tried to scare it away with the General's baton (we were all in uniform). Amazingly, the vulture simply hopped a few steps sideways but remained in the centre of the road dividing the two lawns of the compound. Seeing the goings on, a nearby gardner ran up and began to shoo the bird with a large sickle, that finally made the bird clear the road with an ominous gait and we moved on."

Apparently unruffled by the vulture’s ill-omened antics, the President arrived at the COC and was briefed about the raid plan by an enthusiastic Air Mshl A Rahim Khan. After a crisp fifteen-minute briefing – which could not have been more than a mere formality – the President gave the go ahead at 1630 hrs (PST). The decision was instantly communicated to the pilots who were eagerly waiting at the flight lines. The first raid took off twenty minutes later.

No 26 Squadron opened up with strikes at Srinagar and the nearby non-operational back-up airfield at Avantipur, with a TOT of 1709 hrs. Each strike package consisted of four F-86Fs armed with 2x500-lb general purpose bombs and two escorts with guns only. Both missions were considered successful, with all bombs being delivered on the operating surfaces and, the escorts also getting to carry out strafing runs.

The second set of strikes were designed to neutralise Amritsar and Faridkot radars, so that subsequent strike missions to Amritsar and Pathankot airfields could ingress discretely. A pair of F-104s each carried out a strafing attack on the two radars at 1710 hrs. The antenna of Faridkot radar was claimed to have been hit. During the attack, Wg Cdr Arif Iqbal spotted a Krishak light aircraft on the adjacent landing ground and found it tempting enough to make a risky second pass; the Krishak is acknowledged by IAF as having been damaged, though Arif claimed to have set it on fire. Amritsar radar was also attacked, with both pilots claiming to have hit the antenna; some damage to the communication equipment is acknowledged by the IAF. The lead F-104 (tail no 56-804) was equipped with a locally developed radar homing device, which was the only one of its type in the PAF. Trials had shown it to be a promising gadget and, as expected, had been instrumental in locating the well-camouflaged Amritsar radar. Damage to the radar was, however, short-lived as it became fully operational sometime during the night, which warranted a repeat mission the next morning.

Amritsar airfield was the next target, which was allotted to the speedy Mirages, with a TOT of 1716 hrs. Four Mirage IIIE, quite at ease without escorts, arrived unnoticed over Amritsar airfield which, incredibly, had its runway lights on. Three of the attackers delivered 2x750-lb general purpose bombs each, while the fourth had hung bombs and had to call off dry. All aircraft exited without being intercepted. “They made four to five craters from the beginning of the runway to about 600 meters,” is how the IAF CAS, Air Chief Marshal P C Lal, notes the attack in his book My Years with the IAF.[3]

Pathankot was singled out for two successive raids by Mirages and F-86s. The first raid consisted of four unescorted Mirage IIIE which were to attack Pathankot at 1717 hrs. The formation leader, however, did not have the good fortune of catching the runway with its lights on, and nobody could execute a proper attack in the evening haze and low light. The bombs fell in the general vicinity of the airfield. The second raid on Pathankot followed at 1723 hrs and consisted of four F-86F along with four similar escorts, all from No 15 Squadron based at Murid. Three of the attackers were able to deliver 2x500-lb general purpose bombs each, while the fourth was unable to release his load. Finding the AAA fire not too menacing, the escorts also dove down for strafing attacks in the airfield area.

Considering that one quarter of the 32 planned bombing and strafing sorties were unsuccessful, any pretence about significant success of the first strikes was rather misplaced. The shallow dive angles dictated by AAA avoidance tactics had also worked against deeper bomb penetration and, whatever cratering that occurred was repaired overnight. The saving grace of the whole operation was that the enemy was unable to interfere in any way and, all aircraft were recovered safely. The results of the opening strikes were, however, not completely dismal and, there were ample indications of operational activities being sufficiently disrupted at these forward airfields. This only reinforced the earlier surmise of the planners that, if administered round the clock, such treatment could go some way in mitigating IAF’s air support effort, at least in the Shakargarh Sector, where the Indian Army had opened up mightily with its offensive.

Night Offensive

From the night of 3 December onwards, B-57s came to be the mainstay of the night airfield bombing campaign. The sole No 7 Squadron was split up between Mianwali and Masroor, with ten and eight aircraft respectively. The Mianwali detachment was commanded by OC, No 7 Squadron, Wg Cdr Muhammad Yunis[4], while the Masroor detachment was commanded by Wg Cdr Mahmood Akhtar, a 1965 War bomber veteran and a former OC of No 31 Bomber Wing. T-33s of No 2 Squadron, under command of Wg Cdr Asghar Randhawa, also chipped in usefully in the night campaign. Even the C-130s were mustered to fly a few audacious bombing missions.

Close on the heels of the dusk strikes by the fighters, the B-57s struck eleven IAF airfields: seven in the north, viz Agra, Ambala, Amritsar, Bikaner, Halwara, Pathankot, and Sirsa, and four in the south, viz Jaisalmer, Jamnagar, Jodhpur and Uttarlai. T-33s singled out the latter airfield for their plucky bombing runs on the first night.

The raid on Agra airfield was significant as it was the deepest target attacked by any PAF aircraft. Two Mianwali-based B-57s staged through Rafiqui and managed to reach Agra 375-nm away, without being intercepted enroute. The effort was only a partial success as the first B-57 failed to produce any results due to dud bombs. The second B-57 flown by Flt Lt Mazhar Bukhari with Flt Lt Nasim Khan as navigator, was able to carry out the attack successfully (2105 hrs), though it barely survived a mistaken AAA barrage on recovery at Rafiqui.

Evidence of the success of some other B-57 strikes flown on the night of 3/4 December can be gleaned from Air Mshl P C Lal’s book, in which he makes a mention of the outcome at some of the IAF airfields.

Wg Cdr Mahmood Akhtar and his navigator Flt Lt A B Subhani spearheaded the B-57 night bombing campaign, when they struck Uttarlai on the night of 3 December (1900 hrs). This strike was closely followed by two more T-33 strikes. “The runway was bombed thrice on the very first evening of the war. Such a possibility had been envisaged and Murthy (Station Commander) had trained the pilots of his station to take-off from and land on the taxi track … that is how they operated for the first six days of the war,” according to Lal.[5]

The B-57 strike to Halwara on 3 December (2307 hrs) was flown by Sqn Ldr Abdul Basit with Sqn Ldr G A Khan as his navigator. “The B-57 dropped eight bombs, three of which landed on the runway making two major craters,” recollects Lal.[6] The Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War also corroborates Lal’s assessment thus: “The craters at Halwara were more extensive and were repaired only by the next morning.”[7] Though Lal claims in his book that one of the three missiles fired hit the B-57, the fact is that the aircraft landed safely, without suffering any damage. Apparently, Lal has been unable to sift from the spurious static when he claims “the PAF Chief admitted this loss.”

In the Sirsa strike on 4 December (0318 hrs), the B-57 pilot Sqn Ldr Yusuf Alvi and his navigator Flt Lt Muhammad Ali, claimed to have seen two bombs explode on the runway. “Part of the runway was hit … It was enough though to make the runway unserviceable for the night … the bombs had time-delayed fuses and kept on exploding at intervals till dawn delaying clearance and repair work,” confirms Lal.[8]

On the following nights, several other airfields were added to the earlier targets and included Adampur, Jammu, Srinagar, and Bhuj. All in all, fifteen IAF airfields came to be targeted incessantly over the next twelve nights.

A report on the outcome of the B-57 attack on Sirsa, on the night of 4 December (2010 hrs), came from a most unlikely source. Flt Lt Harish Sinhji, a Sirsa-based MiG-21 pilot, who had become a POW a day after the attack, gave a rather agreeable account of the results of the B-57 bombing to his interrogators. “After one of PAF’s night bombing strikes on our airfield, we were all grounded for six hours. The runway had been cratered at many places. The following morning, our OC, Wg Cdr V B Sawardekar, took us all to the runway to show us the Pakistani pilot’s bombing accuracy. Pointing to the craters on our runway, he said that this is the kind of accuracy the IAF pilots should achieve against Pakistani targets.”[9] The crew of the B-57, Flt Lt Iftikhar Naqvi and his navigator Sqn Ldr M Irfan had reason to be happy when they received personal compliments from the PAF C-in-C who was in on Sinhji’s report.

The outcome of the attack on Agra on the night of 5 December (0100 hrs) by Sqn Ldr Yusuf Alvi with Flt Lt Muhammad Ali as his navigator, is described thus: “the runway was put out of commission temporarily, and some of the Canberra missions had to be cancelled,” according to the Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War.[10]

In an apparent chance hit during an attack on Pathankot on the night of 6 December, “a missile preparation shed was hit but the fire was put out before any damage occurred to the main storage area. Also an aircraft servicing hangar was hit and a Vampire aircraft parked inside was partially destroyed,” notes the official Indian history.[11] Since two sorties were flown against Pathankot during that night, it is difficult to credit any particular set of aircrew.[12]

One of the enigmas of the war in the south was the status of Bhuj airfield, against which PAF flew as many as 14 bombing sorties. Official Indian sources do not list this airfield as having housed any combat aircraft during the war, nor was it used as a stage-through base. Due to its proximity to the Kutch Sector, it was used as a transport base for prompt and regular supply of troops to prevent a repeat of the 1965 Rann of Kutch flop. The raids on Bhuj were a costly undertaking for the PAF in terms of air effort expended and the couple of lives lost; nonetheless, an unlikely endorsement of the quality of bombing comes from Air Chief Marshal P C Lal, who notes that, “the PAF bombed it (Bhuj) fairly accurately.” Apparently, Lal is referring to the results of three raids flown shortly after midnight of 8/9 December, in which all three sets of aircrew claimed that their bombs had struck the runway.[13]

If the preceding comments are any indicator of how PAF’s night bombing campaign fared at large, one can be sure that the PAF was causing more than just insomnia at IAF bases.

Disappointingly however, of the 130 sorties flown by B-57, T-33 and C-130, forty percent were reported by the aircrew – in all candour – to be unsuccessful, either due to armament malfunctions or, because the targets could not be located and bombs were dropped in general target vicinity on ‘dead reckoning’. Effects of the 186 tonnes[14] of ordnance dropped in the 77 successful night sorties are best known to IAF, as the PAF had no means of carrying out any damage assessment. Going by the few available reports, one can imagine that flight lines activities would have been hampered considerably and repairs to the operating surfaces and other damaged infrastructure would have used up precious manpower and resources. Night bombings would have kept the supervisors and crews awake, giving them no respite and, inducing intense fatigue. Disruption of operational and maintenance activities, as well as exhaustion of base personnel including key decision-makers would, in a most parsimonious assessment, figure out as fair achievements of the night bombing campaign.

Three B-57s, along with their crew, were lost to AAA during raids on the night of 5/6 December. In the north, Flt Lt Javed Iqbal (P) and Flt G M Malik (N) met a tragic end after being shot down at Amritsar. Though they had managed to eject, both were badly beaten up by the mob that had swarmed at the place of landing and were fatally injured as a consequence.[15] In the south, Sqn Ldr Ishfaq Qureshi (P) and Flt Lt Zulfiqar Ahmad (N) went down at Bhuj and Sqn Ldr Khusro Shadani (P) and Sqn Ldr Peter Christy (N) went down at Jamnagar.[16] Apparently, the benefit of attacking an airfield in moonlit conditions – a 17-day old waning moon, about 85% of its full illumination – worked both ways and, would have helped the AAA gunners in sighting and tracking the attacking bombers.

Wg Cdr Mahmood Akhtar, the B-57 detachment commander at Masroor was also the field coordinator of all bomber operations, liaising with the COC at Rawalpindi. In his view, “despite difficulties in maintaining and operating an aging weapon system, the detachment continued flying with gusto and dedication.” He cites enthusiastic plans for bombing Bombay Harbour in retaliation for raids on Karachi Harbour. The mission was to be flown – rather precariously – after being staged through Talhar on the pattern of the long range strikes to Agra, flying modified B-57s configured with four F-86 drop tanks each. Akhtar was extremely disappointed at the cancellation of the Bombay raid at the last minute, for reasons best known to the COC. His other disappointment was on the wasted effort during the unsuccessful night missions, and in particular, he blames a wrongly-marked location of Jaisalmer airfield on the aeronautical charts, that cost the PAF nine wasted sorties.

Day Offensive Continues

The day counter-air campaign that had started the previous evening, continued on the morning of 4 December (0635 hrs) with a pair of F-104s led by Sqn Ldr Amjad Hussain successfully attacking Barnala radar. “The radar at Barnala was off the air for nearly 12 hours,” reports the Indian official history.[17]

The radar at Amritsar, which had come back on a few hours after being attacked the previous evening, warranted a revisit. Sqn Ldr Rasheed Bhatti along with Flt Lt Amanullah Khan took off on the morning of 4 December (0650 hrs) and were able to spot the radar antenna despite the winter haze. As Bhatti was diving for the attack, Amanullah yelled that there was a Gnat behind him and gave a call to exit. Bhatti jettisoned his drop tanks, lit up the afterburner and sped away. In the meantime Amanullah, who found the Gnat in his gunsight, fired a Sidewinder but was in too much of a haste to join up with his leader and, was unable to confirm the result of his shooting. His gun camera film was also too hazy for ratification of the kill.

Another mission had to be flown against Amritsar radar, so at mid-day, Sqn Ldr Amjad Hussain and Flt Lt Rasheed Bhatti, took off again. Short of reaching the radar, a sharp-eyed Bhatti spotted a pair of Su-7s orbiting overhead. Amjad found himself favourably placed to get behind one of the Su-7s, but the other one was able to manoeuvre behind Amjad. Sensing trouble, Bhatti warned Amjad who promptly disengaged and sped away, pretty much as Bhatti had done in the previous mission. With the Su-7 intent on chasing Amjad, Bhatti found it opportune to let go a Sidewinder which, he claims, rammed the Su-7’s huge afterburning exhaust with a big flash.[18] Bhatti’s attempts at going for the second Su-7 were foiled when he was confronted with an assymetric flight condition due to a drop tank failing to jettison. Both F-104s landed back with the mission unaccomplished yet again, though the pilots were not altogether cheerless after the scrap with the Su-7s.

The Amritsar radar busting project came to a halt at mid-day on 5 December, when the specially-equipped F-104 flown by Sqn Ldr Amjad Hussain was shot down by AAA, while carrying out a strafing pass over the radar. Amjad ejected and was hauled up as a POW.

The 12-odd sorties flown for ‘suppression of enemy air defences’ did not yield the desired results. The F-104s were, therefore, promptly moved to Masroor in the south, where the F-86s were eagerly waiting to be relieved from their largely blind night patrols.

PAF’s day airfield strike missions, in the meantime, continued apace. Besides the four airfields struck on the first evening of war, additional airfields of Jammu and Awantipura in the north and Uttarlai, Jamnagar and Jaisalmer in the south, were included in the day campaign.

Of the 146 day sorties (including 35 escorts) flown against nine IAF airfields, damage caused to the runways was generally minor and was usually repaired within a few hours. Some of the missions that caused noteworthy damage have been mentioned in the Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War, and are worth studying.

On the morning of 5 December (0637 hrs), Wg Cdr Aziz Ahmad led a flight of four F-86Fs from No 26 Squadron for a raid on Srinagar airfield. The formation claimed four bombs on the runway and four on the adjacent fair-weather strip, where a helicopter was seen to be hovering. The Indian official history acknowledges that, “the runway was slightly damaged, but was soon repaired. One Alouette helicopter flying near the airfield was shot down and both pilots were seriously injured.”[19]

On the evening of 6 December (1650 hrs), a flight of three Mirages led by Sqn Ldr Arif Manzoor successfully attacked Amritsar airfield. At about the same time, six F-86Fs (including two escorts) from No 26 Squadron, led by the OC, Wg Cdr Sharbat Changezi, attacked Srinagar airfield. “The runways at both airfields were slightly damaged but were quickly repaired,” according to the Indian official history.[20]

On morning of 9 December (0830 hrs), Wg Cdr Changezi led a large formation of four F-86F along with a similar number of escorts, for an attack on Srinagar airfield. The bombing caused, “six small craters on the runway; they were repaired by night-fall.”[21] No matter that the size of the holes failed to make an impression on the Indian historian, PAF had managed to keep the airfield out of operation for the whole day!

On the morning of 10 December (1045 hrs), a formation of six Mirage IIIE (including two escorts) led by Sqn Ldr Rao Akhtar, attacked Pathankot airfield. While the bombs were delivered accurately, Akhtar also got a chance to strafe at two Hunters lined up for take-off. The stream of bullets passed in between the Hunters which somehow survived the volley. “The Mirages made three craters on the runway at Pathankot but miraculously, two Hunters about to take-off were not hit,” notes the Indian history.[22] A more forthright account is given by Sqn Ldr Keith Lewis, a MiG-21 detachment commander at Pathankot, who was an eyewitness to the raid: “Regarding the attack itself, the runway was badly cratered, slightly off centre, about a 1000 yards up, and so was the parallel taxi track ... A very detailed inspection of the runway and taxi-track followed and, to the credit of the PAF Mirage formation, it must be stated for the record that they had taken out both the runway and the parallel taxi-track.” Lewis also states that “both the Hunter Mk 56 aircraft of No 27 Sqn were started up and taxied back to their dispersal area.”[23]

On the afternoon of 15 December (1230 hrs), four F-86F led by Wg Cdr Changazi attacked Srinagar airfield yet one more time. The Indian history notes: “At Srinagar one Vampire was hit on the ground inside a blast pen.”[24]

In the south, PAF also flew 12-odd day sorties Uttarlai, Jaisalmer and Jamnagar, utilising the F-104 in strafing attacks. Only one such mission was successful on the morning of 11 December, when Wg Cdr Arif Iqbal and Sqn Ldr Amanullah came upon a pair of HF-24s lined up for take-off at Uttarlai, and these were duly strafed. Amanullah was able to destroy his target completely while Arif Iqbal’s claim was later learnt to have been a ‘damage.’

On the afternoon of 12 December, a similar strafing mission to Jamnagar turned luckless when a pair of F-104s was intercepted by two MiG-21FLs while exiting, after a failed attempt to locate the airfield in bad visibility. The wingman, Flt Lt Tariq Habib recalls that during the orbit, the F-104s had dangerously reduced their speed and the hapless leader, Wg Cdr Mervyn Middlecoat, was easily picked off by the pursuing MiGs. Unable to outmanoeuvre or outrun the nimble MiG-21, Middlecoat was shot down in a gun attack off the coast in the Gulf of Kutch.[25] Middlecoat ejected over the marshes not too far from the small coastal town of Sikka, but no trace of him was ever found.

Appraisal of the Offensive Counter-Air Campaign

The PAF flew a total of 288 offensive counter-air sorties, of which 158 were flown during the day and 130 were flown at night. 81 sorties (28% of the effort) were unsuccessful as the armament could not be delivered due to one of several reasons; these included inability to locate the target, armament delivery malfunction or interception by enemy fighters. Five aircraft were lost during the missions, two during the day and three at night, amounting to a campaign attrition rate of 1.7% which was considered within acceptable limits.

While the PAF had yet to go all-out pending the Army’s main offensive, its offensive counter-air campaign disrupted IAF’s operations to an adequate extent. At 10% of the total war effort, the scale of the offensive counter-air operations was optimal for the ‘softening up’ phase and was well orchestrated at the COC. While the results are nowhere close to those of a textbook campaign, primarily for want of a proper runway denial weapon, the PAF’s offensive resolve to take on a much larger enemy was clearly evident. The aircrew had also achieved sufficient proficiency to undertake the all-out phase of the campaign, but for the Army’s inability to unfold the much-vaunted offensive.

______________________

[1] The Gold Bird, Shah, Mansoor, Oxford University Press, Karachi, 2002.

[2] Three President’s and an Aide – Life Power and Politics, Khan, Arshad Sami, Pentagon Press, New Delhi, 2008

[3] Chapter 13, ‘The Western Sector,’ page 256.
[4] Wg Cdr Muhammad Yunis had the distinction of shooting down an IAF reconnaissance Canberra on a spying mission near Rawalpindi on 10 April 1959, while flying an F-86F; this was PAF’s first kill.

[5] Chapter 14, ‘South-Western Sector,’ page 286.

[6] Chapter 13, ‘The Western Sector,’ page 249.

[7] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 415.

[8] Chapter 13, ‘The Western Sector,’ page 271.

[9] Story of Pakistan Air Force – A Saga of Courage and Honour, page 451.

[10] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 424.

[11] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 426.

[12] The B-57 aircrew that flew the missions to Pathankot on the night of 6 December were: Mission at 0013 hrs – Sqn Ldr Feroz Khan (P) and Sqn Ldr Iftikhar Ghauri (N). Mission at 2317 hrs – Sqn Ldr Rais Rafi (P) and Flt Lt Wasif Bokhari (N).

[13] The Times of India, in a recent report (25 July 2010) on the reconstruction of Bhuj airfield after the major earthquake in Gujarat in 2001, recalls similar repair efforts following the destruction caused by PAF bombing three decades earlier. The newspaper quotes a 60-year old female labourer by the name of Hiru Bhudia of Madhapur village who had participated in the repair work during the war: “The airstrip in Bhuj was completely devastated by Pakistani bombers that dropped 14 napalm (?) bombs on the night of December 8, 1971. The airstrip needed to be reconstructed on a war footing, and for which, officials were not in a position to wait for long. They hurriedly took a decision to get the repair work done by locals. They contacted us and we responded to the crisis in an equally quick manner.”

http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2010-07-25/rajkot/28319257_1_bhuj-strip-bunkers

[14] Of the 62 successful B-57 sorties, 40 were flown with 9x500-lb bombs each, 20 were flown with 9x500-lb and 4x1,000-lb bombs each, while two sorties could deliver only 7x1,000-lb bombs; the 13 successful T-33 sorties were flown with 2x500-lb bombs each; two successful C-130 sorties were flown with 35x500-lb and 45x500-lb bombs. All of this adds up to 410,000 lbs (186 metric tonnes) of ordnance delivered against IAF bases.

[15] This fact was disclosed to the author by retired Air Mshl Denzil Keelor, whom he met in Delhi in May 2008, while on a private visit. Keelor stated that he was convalescing at a military hospital in Amritsar following his own ejection from a MiG-21, after he was shot down by AAA in Lahore Sector. On the morning of 6th December 1971, Keelor noted that extraordinary arrangements were being made in an adjacent ward under supervision of security personnel. Shortly afterwards, two injured PAF bomber aircrew were admitted to the ward. One of them died within a few hours, while the other, who was in a coma, survived for a couple of weeks before succumbing to his injuries. Both were buried in Nizam-ud-din Auliya graveyard in Delhi. Keelor disclosed that both had been badly beaten up by the mob which had rushed at them after their parachute landing at Amritsar. It may be mentioned that Sqn Ldr Amjad Hussain, who had just become a POW after ejecting from an F-104, was given an opportunity to attend the funeral of one of the aircrew.

[16] Sqn Ldrs Ishfaq, Khusro and Christy were recently retired officers, recalled for duty from PIA.

[17] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 424.

[18] PAF intelligence sources have noted the ejection of a certain Flt Lt D R Natu over Amritsar around the time of the F-104 raid, with suspicion. Indian sources claim that Natu ejected due to AAA damage that occurred earlier during the mission.

[19] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 425.

[20] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 426.

[21] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 428.

[22] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 429.

[23] “Plain Tails from the IAF: The Pathankot Raid of Dec 10,” by Air Marshal K D K Lewis (Retd). It may be mentioned that the article centres on Lewis taking exception to the portrayal of Hunters being destroyed in a painting of the Pathankot raid by PAF’s official painter, S M A Hussaini.

[24] Chapter-X, ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 432.

[25] Wg Cdr Mervyn Middlecoat was shot down by Flt Lt Bharat Bhushan Soni of No 47 Sqn.

The Gujarat Beechcraft Incident - 1965 War

2011-04-28T15:59:00.026+05:00

It is a twin-engined, twin-tailed aircraft….with four side windows, probably an eight-seater….it is flying at 3,000 ft AMSL. Request further instructions.” Flg Off Qais M Hussain, who had been scrambled from Mauripur Station to check a suspicious radar contact south-west of Bhuj, was reporting to the Ground Controlled Interception (GCI) controller at Badin’s FPS-20 radar[1].

“Standby,” replied the GCI controller Flg Off Aziz A Khan, hesitantly, as he decided to consult the higher ups.

Qais, a rookie who had completed his conversion on F-86s from USA only four months earlier, belonged to No 18 Squadron and was part of a small detachment of pilots that was being rotated at Mauripur, while the rest of the squadron operated out of Sargodha. While on alert duty on 19 September, his F-86F pair was scrambled around 1545 hrs (PST). Qais, however, had to take off as a singleton since his leader, Flt Lt A I Bukhari, had aborted due to a starting problem. Another standby aircraft, flown by Flt Lt A S Kazmi, took off after a delay of 6-7 minutes, but it never caught up with Qais and continued to hold over the border at 20,000 ft.

Initially, Qais had also been told to climb to 20,000 ft to conserve fuel, but was later directed to descend lower and try to spot the reported contact visually. Somewhere during the descent, Qais lost radio contact with Badin but luckily, Kazmi’s F-86 came in handy as a useful radio relay. Looking around intently, Qais caught a glint of bare metal in the afternoon sun. After having closed in and, having examined his quarry thoroughly, Qais passed his initial report to Badin via Kazmi. He then started orbiting over and around what was only later confirmed as a Beechcraft Model 18 commuter aircraft.

“When I saw this aircraft, I asked myself what was I to do with it,” recollects Qais. To his surprise, the Beechcraft pilot reacted to the interceptor’s presence by climbing up from its cruise altitude of 3,000 ft. Qais thought to himself that if shooting orders came, it would only make his job easy, compared to the trickier high-to-low shooting from stern, had the aircraft ducked down to low level.

“During the anxious wait of several minutes, I was wishing and hoping that I would be called back immediately, without firing any bullets,” recalls Qais pensively. However, the stark orders from Badin were relayed by Kazmi: “You are clear to shoot.” Adjusting himself behind the doomed Beechcraft, Qais fired a short burst from about 1,000 ft and saw a splinter fly off from the left wing. Speeding past the stricken aircraft, Qais readjusted for a second firing pass. Firing a long burst this time, he saw the right wing in flames. Moments later, the Beechcraft nosed over into a near vertical dive and exploded in a ball of fire near the village of Suthali, about half a mile from the coast (about 45 nautical miles WSW of Bhuj). Just then, Kazmi called out that Badin radar was reporting several aircraft – possibly Vampires from Jamnagar, it was thought – heading towards the scene of shooting.

Having flown a good 210 nm from home base and, been aloft for 30 minutes, the fuel state of the F-86 was low and precluded possibility of escape while hugging the ground. Qais was, however, fortunate to stumble onto a towering coastal cloud bank that he could hide behind, while climbing away. Reaching 15,000 ft over the border, Qais started a slow descent for Mauripur. His fuel tanks bone dry, Qais landed through a precautionary flame-out landing pattern.

The same evening it was learnt through All India Radio that the eight people on board the Beechcraft, including the Chief Minister of Gujarat State, Balwantrai Mehta, had been killed; also on board were the Chief Minister’s wife, Mrs Sarojben Mehta, three members of the Chief Minister’s personal staff and a press reporter from the daily Gujarat Samachar. The crew of two included an ex-IAF pilot, Jehangir M Engineer, one of IAF’s four famous Engineer brothers[2]. He was the chief pilot of Maharashtra State Government but was on loan to Gujarat. The aircraft had taken off from the Gujarat capital of Ahmedabad and was on its way to the small town of Mithapur that lay 200 nm WSW, at the mouth of the Gulf of Kutch. The aircraft had apparently drifted off-course considerably, for the crash site is almost 40 nm north of the intended destination.

An Indian inquiry into the incident submitted the facts four months later. According to the inquiry report, the IAF authorities at Bombay had refused to let the aircraft proceed on the flight. When the Gujarat government pressed for clearance, the IAF authorities agreed reluctantly, giving clearance for the pilot to proceed at his own risk.

The purpose of the risky visit to Mithapur remains unclear. One could speculate, though, that the Chief Minister may have sought to publicly demonstrate solidarity with his coastal constituency in the wake of Pakistan Navy’s earlier attack on Dwarka which, while tactically insignificant, was wholly morale-shattering. After all, the Chief Minister had, only earlier that morning, presided over a mass National Cadet Corps rally in Ahmedabad “to boost the country’s defence effort.”[3]

Regrettable as the news of civilian deaths were, no one at Headquarters No 2 Sector at Badin had feared that civilians would be on board an aircraft in the thick of the war zone. The Sector Commander, Wg Cdr Mehmood Hassan and the Officer Commanding of the Operations Wing, Sqn Ldr Abdul Moiz Shahzada had hastily surmised that the aircraft was proceeding on some sort of a reconnaissance or air transport mission. Shooting down of the aircraft was, thus, deemed an indisputable answer to the prevailing quandary. The niceties of territorial inviolability had obviously no room for debate, for this was clearly not a peace-time situation.

Both India and Pakistan had utilised civilian registered aircraft for transportation of military supplies, equipment or manpower and, for maritime reconnaissance during the 1965 War (as well as 1971 War). The inherent military potential of any aircraft was well understood and, was suitably exploited. The onus of safety of these platforms lay on the host country, as the lines between their civilian and military usage were blurred during hostilities. Except for United Nations or Red Cross / Red Crescent aircraft whose identity is unmistakably displayed, all other aircraft could be construed as liable to serving military objectives, not withstanding their civilian registration markings. Proper codification of aviation law to remove any doubts on the issue did not exist in the 1965 era and, in fact, was first made part of the Geneva Convention as late as 1977.

It would be worthwhile to study a portion of 'Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions’ of 12 August 1949, and 'Relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts (Protocol I) Article 52’ of 8 June 1977. Even a cursory reading reveals that total or partial destruction, capture or neutralisation of those ‘objects’ that can make effective contribution to military action by virtue of their nature, location, purpose or use, is defensible. The statute clarifies that while civilian ‘objects’ per se shall not be the attacked, it clearly makes an exception ‘if these objects serve military objectives.’

Rather than attempting to seek cover of a later legislation through retroactive application, it would be instructive, purely from an academic standpoint, to see how the incident stands up to contemporary international legalities. It can be seen that the object under discussion namely, the Beechcraft aeroplane, by its nature, was capable of transporting military stores/personnel as well as performing land or maritime reconnaissance (visually at least); its location was also in an area contiguous to the land and maritime war zones. The actual purpose of the flight – which, in the event, turned out to be VIP movement – borders on the suspect when seen in the light of the other provisions mentioned heretofore, which unequivocally qualify the aircraft as ‘serving military objectives.’

Unfortunately, the safety of the aircraft stood compromised from the outset. Sadly, the loss of innocent lives has cast a shadow under which, more than anyone else, Qais has had to live for over four decades. He looks back ruefully, though he has no doubt that he was doing his duty.

___________________

[1] Badin’s FPS-20 radar was designated as the Master GCI Station for HQ No 2 (Air Defence) Sector which was co-located at Badin.

[2] ‘The Times of India’ News Service, Ahmedabad, Gujarat, 20 September, 1965.

[3] ‘Express’ News Service, Ahmedabad, Gujarat, 20 September, 1965.

Author's Notes:

1) Based on his familiarity with the ‘scramble-identification-shooting’ loop, and the not infrequent pilot-controller miscommunication during interceptions especially on a faulty radio, the author is inclined to consider the intriguing possibility of a case of mistaken identity. In such a scenario, the staff at HQ No 2 Sector would have found Qais’ initial report broadly matching the description of a C-119 ‘Packet’ transport aircraft of the IAF, to the extent of being ‘twin-tailed, twin-engined, with four side windows.’ In all likelihood, no one knew what a civilian Beechcraft Model 18 looked like, whereas the unique C-119 military transport aircraft was a recognisable silhouette in Aircraft Recognition charts and manuals readily available in all Ops Rooms. The prompt shooting orders may have, thus, come straightforwardly, not withstanding the civilian registration number called out by Qais earlier.

2) In his recent letter (Aug 2011) to Mrs Farida Singh, the daughter of the downed pilot, Qais stated that on being spotted the Beechcraft pilot started "waggling his wings seeking mercy". This detail was not mentioned by Qais to the author when this article was first published in April 2011. In view of the apparent 'submission' by the Beechcraft, the possibility of shepherding the aircraft (through visual signals) for a forced landing at Mauripur could be debated. It has to be remembered, however, that for a young Flying Officer, this would have been an unthinkable violation of the clear shooting orders given by the HQ No 2 Sector. In any case, the Beechcraft would not have had enough fuel to make it to distant Mauripur. Searching for one of the disused airfields in the area for a forced landing, would also not have been feasible due to the already low fuel state of both aircraft.

Acknowledgement is made to Air Cdre (R) Abdul Moiz Shahzada, Wg Cdr (R) Aziz A Khan and Flg Off (R) Qais Mazhar Hussain for their description of the incident.

This article was published in 'Defence Journal', April 2011 issue.

Air Defence in Northern Sector - 1971 War

2011-02-21T19:50:00.033+05:00

With just four low level radars available in the northern air defence sector, there was no possibility of providing uninterrupted coverage along the border, including the battle areas. The large gaps could be easily exploited by tree-top hugging intruders for knocking out PAF bases and radar stations, before turning their attention to the battlefield. It was surmised by the PAF Air Staff that the few low level radars could be best utilised for providing cover to the bases, thus at least ensuring PAF’s viability for the all-important task of tactical air support. The only problem with this scheme, and a major one at that, was the rear location of radars which offered barely three minutes early warning; this was considered insufficient even for vectoring nearby standing CAPs. It was hoped that some early warning by MOUs would contribute gainfully, by adding to the reaction time.

Gp Capt Rehmat Khan, the Sector Commander, Sector Operations Centre (North) located at Sakesar, had a patchwork of reasonably modern sensors at his disposal, but far short of the optimum numbers required for an effective air defence ground environment. High level radar surveillance in the northern sector rested with a high-powered FPS-20 radar at Sakesar, while a Condor radar each at Chuhr Kana, Muridke and Tatepur near Multan, provided medium level cover. Low level cover rested with four AR-1 radars located at Rafiqui, Cherat, Kallar Kahar and Kirana. The hill-top locations of radars at the latter three locations were seen as a significant plus, due to an extension in the radar pick up range by as much as 50%. Major towns like Islamabad, Rawalpindi, Sialkot, Gujranwala, Lahore, Lyallpur and Multan, however, lay outside the low level radar cover.

Location of bases at Mianwali, Murid, Peshawar, Risalewala, Rafiqui and Sargodha served the air defence requirements over the battle areas reasonably well and provided sufficient redundancy. Day interceptors in the northern sector included 48 F-6, 32 F-86E, 32 F-86F and 23 Mirage IIIE/R/D. Of the latter, 17 Mirage IIIE sub-types also doubled as night interceptors. These had Cyrano II airborne radar, but it was practically useless in the look-down mode, being a simple pulse radar prone to ground clutter. It was, however, presumed that the Cyrano might be of some use in a ground controlled interception at night, if a less clutter prone low-to-high profile could be pulled off, somehow. Interceptors were equipped with AIM-9B Sidewinder missiles and cannon/guns for the air defence role.

The strategy of defending the bases, first and foremost, depended on being able to intercept the intruders before they released their weapons. With the inadequate early warning however, it seemed that PAF would have to be content with grabbing the ‘fleeing burglar’s loincloth,’ so to speak.

Intercepting the Intruders

The morning of 4 December promised action, as the IAF was expected to retaliate forcefully in response to PAF’s strikes against some of the Indian airfields, the previous evening and through the night. The PAF was ready, with fighters continuously patrolling the skies since first light.

No 23 Squadron pilots at Risalewala had been tidily scheduled for the day’s proceedings. Around 0930 hrs, as F-6s for the day’s sixth mission were taxiing out of their pens, an air raid warning was sounded. A mission abort was ordered and loudspeakers relayed instructions for everyone to take cover. Flt Lt Javed Latif who was on cockpit standby, started to unstrap from his F-6 for a quick egress. Momentarily glancing out of the pen opening to see what was going on, he was aghast to see a Su-7 diving down straight at his aircraft. “The scary sight of an intake pointing at me is still etched fresh in my memory,” recalls Latif. As he jumped out of his F-6 to take cover, a salvo of rockets landed smack on the pen.[1] Still scampering towards a trench, Latif was rattled by cannon fire from the second Su-7 as the bullets landed a few yards away. Then the raid was over as suddenly as it had started, and the AAA died down too, as if heralding an all-clear. Dusting himself and recovering his composure, Latif rushed to his pen to help put out the fire caught by the hessian camouflage covering. Luckily, his F-6 was unharmed except for a few nicks from slivers of falling plaster. “I was seething with anger at having been violated thus, and hurried to strap up again to settle the score,” recalls Latif.

Shortly thereafter, a scramble was ordered for the next pair but confusion reigned as the taxi way had been blocked by the F-6s of the previous aborted mission. This led to yet another abort at a critical time but the situation was salvaged when Latif, who was standing by for a later mission, took charge and hit the starter button on his own. Just as he was taxiing out, his crew chief came rushing towards the aircraft, signalling for a switch off as another air raid warning had been notified. “My mind was racing and I had already decided in a split of a second – I was going to take my chances flying and I was not going to repeat the fiasco of the last pair,” Latif recollects.

Over-ruling the Air Traffic Control’s somewhat confused recall message, Latif checked if his No 2 was also taxiing out. Hearing no response, he decided to take-off alone. Changing over to the radar frequency, he heard an eager voice wanting to join up as his wingman. It was Flt Lt Riffat Munir on patrol from the fifth mission, whose leader had aborted due to a technical problem. The new partners were only too glad to find themselves as a viable combat entity again. It wasn’t long before the ground radar handed the pair over to ‘Killer Control,’ a cleverly-perched look-out tasked to visually guide the interceptors about the raiders’ position with the help of geographic landmarks. Flt Lt Ahmed Khattak’s confident voice called out that two Su-7s were pulling up for an attack from the north-westerly direction and, he pointed out their position over the main water tank. After jettisoning their drop tanks and charging their guns, Latif and Riffat confirmed visual contact with both Su-7s.

As the attackers approached the airfield, Latif easily positioned behind one of them while Riffat cleared tails. Firing all three of his cannon, Latif waited for some fireworks. Noticing that the aircraft was still flying unharmed, he fired another long burst till all his ammunition was exhausted. Just as he was expecting his quarry to blow up, he felt a huge thud. Thinking that he had been hit by the other Su-7, he broke right and then reversed left but found no one in the rear quarters. Checking for damage, he found that the left missile was not there and the launcher was shattered. The AAA shells bursting in puffs all around the airfield confirmed his suspicion that he had taken a ‘friendly’ hit, but luckily the aircraft was fully under control. Pressing on, he started to look for the escaping Su-7s and within moments, was able to pick one of them trailing a streak of whitish smoke. Convinced that it was the same one he had hit earlier, and assuming it to be crippled, Latif decided to go for the other Su-7. He spotted it straight ahead, flying over the tree tops at a distance of two miles. Engaging afterburners, he closed in for a Sidewinder shot but could not get a lock-on tone. To his dismay, he realised that the missile tone was routed through the circuitry of the left missile which had been shot off. Getting below the Su-7, he fired without a tone nonetheless, half expecting it to connect, if at all it fired. Moments later, he heard Riffat’s excited voice on the radio, “Good shooting, leader, you got him!” Not sure if he had really hit him as he had not seen any explosion, Latif was soon relieved to see the Su-7 roll over inverted and hit the ground.[2]

Flt Lt Harvinder Singh of Halwara-based No 222 Squadron went down with his aircraft near Rurala Railway Station. Riffat’s chase of the second Su-7 (flown by the mission leader, Sqn Ldr B S Raje) had to be cut short as he was getting low on fuel and his leader was out of ammunition. No 23 Squadron had drawn first blood after an eventful morning that saw Latif doggedly in business after surviving rocket and AAA hits.

Murid Base was particularly vulnerable to surprise attack from a north-easterly direction. Intruders from Pathankot could nestle against the Parmandal Range, before swinging in from Naushahra-Rajauri side in held-Kashmir. To counter this susceptibility, F-86Fs from No 15 Squadron were providing constant CAPs since first light. On the morning of 4 December at around 1030hrs, Flt Lt Mujahid Salik and Flg Off Sarfaraz Toor, who were on patrol, were directed by Kallar Kahar Radar to intercept a pair of Hunters heading towards the Base. By the time the F-86 pair collected itself for the interception, the Hunters were through with the raid and were egressing. The F-86s spotted one Hunter on the exit heading called out by the radar and Mujahid started to settle behind it. Toor, meanwhile, restively looked around for the second one which was being reported in the rear quarters. The F-86s had somehow ended up being sandwiched between the Hunters. Toor was lucky to spot the Hunter trying to catch up behind him and, instantly went into a tight break, blacking out in the process. The Hunter tried to hold a gun tracking solution for about 60 degrees before realising the futility of it all, and rolled out to join his wingman. Mujahid, in the meantime, had intently chased his quarry and managed to gun it down as it came up against a hill crest, about 24-nm east of Murid. The Hunters had made the cardinal mistake of exiting in line-astern after the attack, rather than quickly reforming in disciplined battle formation for visual cross cover. Flg Off Sudhir Tyagi, of Pathankot-based No 27 Squadron, had to pay with his life due to his leader’s solo flight, at a time when he (Tyagi) was falling into Mujahid’s clutches and needed support.

Rushing back to his parent base at Peshawar from Karachi, where he was running an official errand, Flt Lt Salim Baig Mirza reached his unit at daybreak of 4 December. It wasn’t long before an exhausted Baig and his mission leader, Flt Lt Khalid Razzak, found themselves strapped up in their F-86Fs for air defence alert duty.

After waiting in their cockpits for an excruciating three hours, the pair was scrambled and directed to fly in a south-easterly direction at 5,000 ft. Barely ten miles out of the airfield, ‘Killer Control’ surprised the interceptors with a report about an attack on the base by enemy Hunters. Rushing back at full speed, Baig spotted one Hunter just south of the base and, guided his leader towards it.

While Khalid dived to position behind the Hunter, Baig stayed higher looking for more; he soon saw another Hunter maneuvering to get behind his leader. Khalid had, by then, commenced firing his guns at the first Hunter. In a snap, Baig rolled over and swooped down to get behind the second one.

The dogfight had rapidly descended to a dangerously low height of about 100 ft, with four fighters flying in a very tight circle at a speed of around 400 kts. “The first Hunter that was being shot at by Khalid was somewhat out of range,” recalls Baig. “About a mile behind him was the second Hunter blazing away its four 30mm guns but the bullets were impacting the ground way short of the target, as I could make out from the small puffs of dust.” Baig, being the last one in the tail chase, had started firing a long burst at the second Hunter from about 3,000 ft. He was closing in fast, aiming to quickly finish it off before Khalid fell in harm’s way.

In the melee, Baig was continuously warning his leader about the position of the second Hunter which was rapidly closing in. Sensing the critical situation, Baig warned his leader to break off the attack which he did, just in time. “At the same instant, I saw a puff of thick black smoke appearing from the right wing root of the Hunter that was still in my gunsight,” remembers Baig. A few seconds later, the aircraft rolled over and crashed in a huge ball of fire. Its wreckage was found about five miles south-west of the base near Bara village. Flg Off K P Muralidharan had been unable to eject and went down with his aircraft.

The Hunters were able to inflict some damage to a maintenance hangar. However, the luckless pair had found a bevy of dummy aircraft on the tarmac too inviting and, had gone in for a second strafing attack; this resulted in grave consequences as it allowed the interceptors to catch up and position themselves for the kill.

While the F-86 pilots were excitedly focused on the kill, the lead Hunter managed to escape. It was later learnt that Sqn Ldr Bajpai was able to put down his bullet-riddled aircraft at Jammu airfield, only to wreck it completely after slamming into a truck at the end of the under-construction runway.

Shortly before sunset on the same day, Sakesar radar reported a raid heading towards Mianwali. Sqn Ldr Ehsan and Flg Off Qazi Javed of No 25 Squadron, who were on ‘cockpit standby’ in the hessian-covered pens, started their F-6s and within minutes, were taxiing out for take-off. Just then, Javed reported seeing two Hunters pull up for an attack. Sensing that they had been caught on the ground at the wrong time, Ehsan decided on a hasty take-off and pushed up the throttles to execute a sharp turn on to the runway. Unfortunately, use of excessive power caused him to veer off into the ‘kutcha.’ Stuck in the mud, he became an unwitting spectator as the Hunters delivered their attacks.

In the meantime, Javed decided to take-off without his leader. Just as he lined up, he saw the lead Hunter strafing way far to the left of the runway. With half his worries suddenly over, Javed started rolling but danger from the second Hunter remained, as it had all the time to aim carefully and take a hearty shot. Anxious, Javed craned his neck back only to see the Hunter’s cannon blazing at him. “I thought his dive was too shallow and, at the close distance he was, the bullets would overshoot,” Javed recalls his rather masterly prediction. Mercifully, the bullets did land 200 feet ahead and towards the left, so Javed continued his take-off.

Once airborne, keeping the Hunter in sight was a problem in the fast-fading light. Speeding at 900 kph, Javed remembered that he had not jettisoned his drop tanks. When he did get rid of them at such a high speed, he induced a porpoise but was somehow able to ride it out. Charging in at 1,100 kph, he had closed in to about a mile and a half, which was just the right range for a Sidewinder shot. He fired his first missile and when he did not see it connect, fired the second one. That too went into the ground. “All this while the Hunter pilot seemed totally oblivious of what was going on and his leader was nowhere in sight, so I gleefully decided to press on for a gun attack,” says Javed. “Since things had been happening too fast, I had forgotten to charge my guns after take-off. Having done that, I first fired with my centre gun till all its ammunition was spent.[3] With the Hunter still flying unharmed, I decided to continue firing with the side guns. After a few frustrating bursts, I closed in to about 1,000 ft and fired a real lengthy one. Luckily, the last few bullets of the volley struck the right wing as I noticed a flash. The aircraft pitched up and rolled over to the right. I only learnt of the pilot’s ejection later, as I had to break away to avoid overshooting the out-of-control Hunter.”

The aircraft fell about 14 nautical miles north-east of Mianwali. Flg Off Vidyadhar Shankar Chati of the Pathankot-based No 27 Squadron, when interrogated about the circumstances of his shooting down, said he suspected he had been brought down by ground fire! Duck shoot it was, over the idyllic Khabbaki Lake, but Chati should have known better where the bullets really came from. Ironically, the pilots of No 27 Squadron who had been declared the ‘Top Guns’ of IAF’s Western Air Command during a gunnery meet prior to the war, had failed to shoot up the conspicuously exposed F-6s on the runway.

The test of the Mirage’s capabilities as an interceptor came on the night of 4 December, when Flt Lt Naeem Atta was scrambled from Mianwali. The ground controller vectored Atta on to an intruder heading west, towards Mianwali. “The controller was able to position me three miles astern of the low flying target, but in a pitch dark night, there was no prospect of visual contact,” remembers Atta.

As the Salt Range loomed ahead, the target started climbing to avoid the hilly terrain. “Unexpectedly, this meant that the target was also easing out of ground clutter and there was a good probability that it would be painted by my radar,” recalls Atta. Unknown to him, the Cyrano radar had been in standby mode, as Atta had not been careful in selecting his switches in a hurry. On the radar controller's reminder, Atta rechecked the selection to transmit mode and, was soon able to report a blip on his radar scope at an optimum IR-missile shooting distance of one-and-a-half mile, dead tail-on. Following radar lock-on, the missile’s seeker head swung to the heat source and, a growl in Atta’s earphones confirmed a launch-ready condition; the intruder’s fate was sealed. Moments after launching the AIM-9B Sidewinder, Atta saw a huge fireball silhouetting an aircraft in the night sky.

Next morning, the wreckage of a Canberra (IF 916) was confirmed at the village of Nara located at the western edge of the Salt Range, not too far from Khushab town. The aircrew, including the pilot Flt Lt Lloyd Moses Sasoon and navigator Flt Lt Ram Metharam Advani, belonging to the Agra-based Jet Bomber Conversion Unit, were killed on impact.[4]

The high-powered FPS-20 radar at Sakesar, had received considerable attention on the first day of the war. Shortly after mid-day on 5 December, a pair of Hunters from No 27 Squadron was again able to sneak in and attack the radar with rockets and cannon.

Patrolling nearby, over the picturesque Salt Range, were two F-6s of No 25 Squadron flown by Wg Cdr Sa’ad Hatmi and Flt Lt Shahid Raza. They were immediately vectored by the radar towards the exiting Hunters but it was a while before Hatmi spotted the pair. As the Hunters sped away over the hilly terrain, Hatmi wisely decided not to waste his missiles in the unfavourable background clutter. Using his guns instead, he made short work of one of the Hunters which fell 15 miles east of Sakesar. The pilot, Flg Off Kishan Lal Malkani, was killed.

Next, Flt Lt Shahid Raza, who had all along kept the second Hunter in sight, closed in and opened fire with his guns which found their mark. The pilot, Flt Lt Gurdev Singh Rai, who was the leader of the mission and, had twice visited Sakesar on the previous day, ran out of luck this time. He met his end when his Hunter crashed near the small town of Katha Saghral at the foothills of Salt Range.

The attack by the Hunter pilots was not in vain, as they managed to pull off two strafing runs each. The FPS-20 surveillance radar and the FPS-6 height finder antennae were badly damaged, while considerable electronic equipment and cables were destroyed. The radar remained out of operation for three days, before spares were rushed in and repairs carried out.

Later that afternoon, a lone intrepid Hunter was able to sneak in for yet another successful attack on Sakesar radar, adding to the damage and destruction caused by the previous Hunter pair.[5] After the attack, however, a clean getaway for a singleton, right under the noses of patrolling interceptors, was an improbable prospect. As expected, the Hunter was intercepted by two Mirages scrambled from Mianwali. The pair was led by Flt Lt Safdar Mahmood, with Flg Off Sohail Hameed as his wingman.

Diving down from the hills, the Hunter had built up speed, but not enough to elude the far swifter Mirages. With the help of instructions from the ground controller, Safdar was able to catch up and settle behind the Hunter, to start his shooting drill. A couple of well-placed bursts of the 30-mm cannon got the Hunter smoking. As Safdar held off while watching his quarry in its last throes, Sohail picked up the smouldering aircraft and let off a Sidewinder missile to finish it off.

Just before the aircraft impacted the ground, the pilot ejected but it was too late. Sqn Ldr Jal Maneksha Mistry of No 20 Squadron was found fatally injured. The wreckage of the Hunter (A 1014) was strewn near the small town of Kattha Saghral.

Chamb was one of the few sectors where Pak Army had made significant advances and, the Indian XV Corps desperately sought destruction of heavy guns that had been reported in the area. On 6 December, a pair of Su-7s from Adampur-based No 101 Sqn was tasked to locate and destroy the guns. The Su-7s sought out what appeared like hutments concealing the artillery pieces and were rocketing the place.

Flt Lt Salimuddin Awan and his wingman Flt Lt Riazuddin Shaikh, who were patrolling in their Mirages over Gujranwala-Sheikhupura area, were vectored by ground radar onto the two Su-7s. Salimuddin, who was carrying a R-530 radar-guided missile along with two Sidewinders, decided to get rid of the bulky – and rather useless weapon – by just blindly firing it off, so as to lighten up for the chase.

Spotting the Mirages, the Su-7s jettisoned their drop tanks and rocket pods and started exiting east. With the Su-7s doing full speed, a long chase ensued till Riazuddin found himself close enough to fire a missile, but it went straight into the ground. Salimuddin then moved in and, on hearing the lock-on growl, pressed the missile launch button, not once but twice, to be sure. Two Sidewinder missiles shot off from the rails and, moments later, Riazuddin called out that one of the Su-7s had been hit. Salimuddin instantly switched to the other Su-7 and fired his 30-mm cannon. Just then, Salimuddin noted the outlines of Madhopur Headworks near Pathankot, which was not surprising, as they had been chasing the Su-7s for several minutes inside enemy territory, along the Jammu-Kathua Road. Recollecting themselves, the Mirages turned back and recovered at Sargodha with precariously low fuel. Monitoring of VHF radio confirmed a message transmitted to Adampur that an Su-7 had been “fired at … the pilot ejected”.

It was later learnt that the wingman, Flt Lt Vijay Kumar Wahi had succumbed to his ejection injuries. The leader, Sqn Ldr Ashok Shinde, was lucky to bring back his Su-7 which had been damaged by bullet hits. High-speed pursuit was a forte of the Mirage, a lesson learnt by the IAF the hard way and, one time too late.

On the afternoon of 8 December, two patrolling F-6s of No 23 Squadron flown by Wg Cdr S M H Hashmi and Flt Lt Afzal Jamal Siddiqui were vectored on to two Su-7s, just as they were exiting after attacking Risalewala airfield. Hashmi caught up with one of the pair, about ten miles east of the airfield, and let off a Sidewinder at the straggler. The missile homed on unmistakably and the Su-7 exploded above the tree-tops; the pilot was not seen to eject. The remains of Flt Lt Ramesh Gulabrao Kadam[6] were later discovered around the wreckage near the small town of Khalsapur.

Hashmi immediately started looking for the other Su-7 and, to be sure of his No 2’s safety, called out for his position. Afzal replied but the transmission was garbled, which Hashmi interpreted as his No 2 being visual with him and, assumed that he was somewhere in the rear quarters. Just then Hashmi picked contact with the second aircraft and did not think twice before launching a missile.

If there was any profile difference between the similar-looking planforms of the Su-7 and F-6, this was surely one time to have had a closer look. His No 2 was nowhere in sight and his frantic unanswered calls to Afzal seemed to confirm Hashmi’s worst fear. Had he mixed up his quarry in the murky winter haze? Afzal, who was chasing the second Su-7 at high speed and had ended up ahead of his leader, was not able to clearly convey his position on a broken radio. Hashmi, an otherwise unflappable squadron commander, should have known better, for he had been too eager for a second kill which unfortunately ended up as a horrific fatality for his wingman.[7]

On one occasion an F-6 was completely outwitted by an Su-7 that it was trying to intercept. Flt Lt S S Malhotra of No 32 Squadron, was flying as a singleton on a photo recce mission over Risalewala on 13 December. Just after completing the photo run, he spotted a patrolling F-6 and took a pot shot before exiting. It was only later that Malhotra learnt of Flt Lt Ejazuddin’s ejection over his home Base.

An Incredible Kill

The morning of 7th of December was quite hazy, particularly at lower altitudes where the dust of Punjab plains mingled with the moist, cold air, giving the sky a murky appearance. While the PAF was conserving its air effort in the early stages of war, IAF’s intensity of air operations was building up at a fast pace.

Flg Off Man Mohan Singh was ferrying a Gnat from Halwara, to beef up a detachment of No 2 Squadron at Amritsar where these aircraft were deployed to perform air defence duties. As Mohan was nearing home, the controller at Amritsar Radar asked him to delay his landing while a pair of Su-7s took off. After holding off for a few minutes, Mohan resumed a northerly heading for the Base.

Sqn Ldr Farooq Haider, a veteran of the ’65 War, was sitting as the duty controller in No 403 Radar Squadron which was located in the outskirts of Lahore. Watching the radar scope intently, he had picked up a blip as it approached Tarn Taran, south of Amritsar. With the adversary nearing its home Base, Farooq had to act fast. He commenced the interception with steady instructions on the radio.

“Your target now over Tarn Taran, heading 360; do not acknowledge.”

“Target 20 (degrees) right, five (miles), turn hard left 360, do not climb; do not acknowledge.”

“Target 12 o’clock, two (miles), go full bore; do not acknowledge.”

“Okay, target is one mile ahead …”

The IAF had been expecting PAF fighters to sneak in below radar cover. Thus, to be doubly sure about any undetected intruders, the IAF used a capability that it was well equipped for – eavesdropping into pilot-controller conversation. Listening in to what was going on, the IAF controller was completely dumbfounded at the development, for he had not yet picked up any blip on his scope. All of a sudden, he frantically shouted on the radio to announce the presence of interceptors in the Gnat’s rear quarters! It was no surprise, therefore, that the controller’s warning to Mohan sounded eerie, as if a spectre was being reported. With the interceptors’ distance rapidly reducing and shooting down of the Gnat almost a certainty, the controller gave a panic ‘break’ call. Mohan reacted as any fighter pilot would have done in that situation. He yanked back on the control column and threw in a very tight turn to shake off his pursuers.

Farooq noticed that the blip had disappeared from the radar screen shortly after manoeuvring had commenced. Normally, he would have enquired about the fate of the target from the interceptor pilots within moments of the shooting. This time, however, he had to be discrete. “Maintain radio silence and recover at low altitude,” he called out. Meanwhile, Farooq and his fellow controllers wondered if the vanished blip meant that the aircraft had landed at its Base?

India’s Official History of Indo-Pak War - 1971, published thirty years later, covers the air operations with a diary of action which includes important events like air raids, aerial victories and losses on both sides. A keen reader would notice acknowledgement of the loss of a Gnat on 7th December 1971 in which, “the pilot tried to take evasive action when warned of Pak aircraft in the vicinity. He lost control and crashed.”[8] The only inaccuracy with the account is that Pakistani aircraft were nowhere near!

Standing CAPs were a rare commodity due to excessive demands on PAF’s limited assets. Farooq had, therefore, reacted to the emergent situation in a most ingenuous way. He impulsively decided to fake an interception in the knowledge that his calls would be monitored. The thrill of playing a prank was better than getting frustrated at the sight of an enemy blip pacing away unscathed. In the event, Farooq’s trick resulted in a bargain of great value, which can be gleaned from the amazing fact that not a gallon of fuel was expended, nor was a single bullet fired. Arguably, it stands as the cheapest kill of air warfare.

A Classic Dogfight

On the last day of the war, two F-86Es Sabres led by Flt Lt Maqsood Amir of PAF’s No 18 Squadron took off from Sargodha, for a routine patrol over the battle area. The winter haze had not quite cleared up even by mid-day, so Maqsood asked the radar controller for a loiter height of 5,000 ft instead of the usual 1,000 ft, for better visibility. With his wingman Flt Lt Taloot Mirza in tow, Maqsood set up orbit around Pasrur, which was on the western edge of the battle area.

As expected, the reaction was swift when two MiG-21s of No 45 Squadron scrambled from Amritsar, to intercept the Sabre CAP. Sneaking in at low level, the MiGs were out of PAF’s radar cover but their VHF radios[9] were under surveillance. The IAF pilot-controller conversation was a good enough clue for the PAF controller, Sqn Ldr Rab Nawaz, to assess exactly what was going on. Carefully monitoring the radio calls of the ‘rats’ (code-word for MiG-21), he instructed Maqsood to fly at combat speed and keep a good lookout. The moment the MiG leader, Sqn Ldr Shankar, called ‘contact’ with the bogies, Nawaz instantly warned the Sabre pair that the threat was in the vicinity and they had better clear their tails.

As Maqsood threw in a left hand turn to look around, he was astonished to see two MiG-21s diving down at the Sabres from 8 o’clock, high position. The MiGs had blown through the Sabre formation head-on, without having been observed. Subsequently, the MiGs got behind the Sabres through a low-to-high conversion.

Maqsood recalls being struck by the aircraft’s small delta wings and sleek, long fuselages; he also did not miss their desert camouflage, an oddity in the lush Punjab plains. The apparent toy model features of the MiGs, however, made a lethal transformation in front of Maqsood’s eyes when he saw a fiery streak shoot off from one of the aircraft!

With an adversary firing from the rear, the drill is to ‘break’ into it with maximum rate of turn, thus compounding the gun-tracking problem. Incredibly, Maqsood hesitated! Noticing that the MiG’s profile appeared somewhat frontal, he reckoned that enough lead was not being allowed. A good gun tracking solution would require the attacker to point ahead; this would consequently show more of the belly and lower wing surface to a defender. Concluding that he was out of harm’s way for the moment, Maqsood coolly settled for an energy-conserving hard turn. This would eventually make the MiGs hit a square corner as they ran out of turning room, he imagined.

What Maqsood did not know was that a K-13 missile had been launched and the flash that he had seen was not of cannon fire, really.[10] A missile launch would have required him to go for a maddening ‘break,’ leaving little energy for a fight back. Fortuitously, the hard turn had sufficed all the same; it not only defeated the early generation missile but also cramped the attackers for space.

Sensing an overshoot, Shankar eased up for a ‘yo-yo’ to give himself enough separation, before he swooped down again. A defender endowed with better acceleration could have escaped at this juncture, but knowing his Sabre’s limitations, Maqsood had to stay on and fight. Under the circumstances, a smart tactic was needed that could throw off the attackers. Maqsood picked the barrel roll from his repertoire. The comical-sounding manoeuvre was somewhat of a misnomer in the deadly world of air combat. While an essential of any aerobatics display, the barrel roll had turned the tables on an attacker in many a dogfight.

Basically, the roll involves a corkscrew flight path on the inside of an imaginary barrel. Since the aircraft flies in three dimensions during the process, the resultant forward motion is distributed or ‘vectored’ in the three planes. An unwary pursuer is thus not able to arrest his rapidly increasing rate of closure. This is exactly what happened to the two MiGs that zipped past, as Maqsood went through the complex motions of rolling, pitching and yawing, while ‘doing the barrel.’

Recovering to level flight again, Maqsood was in a bit of a quandary whether to fire his six 0.5” Browning guns or the Sidewinder missiles. For the latter he had to wait some seconds, till the MiGs had opened up to an optimum range of several thousand feet. Suddenly, the trailing MiG turned hard to the left, apparently having noticed the Sabre behind. Maqsood did not let go of the opportunity; he placed his gunsight over the target, and started firing. The bullets seemed to land square behind the canopy and after just four seconds of firing, the aircraft started to trail thick black smoke. Maqsood noticed something fly out of the aircraft before it rolled over and dived into the ground in a big ball of fire. Perhaps it was the ejection seat that had shot out of the burning aircraft, but Maqsood was more concerned about his No 2 who was not visible in the rear quarters.

Having stuck around through the arduous manoeuvring as wingman, Taloot found it too tempting to let go of the other MiG in front and started chasing it. As expected, the chase was futile but in the process he split up with Maqsood. Luckily, the two re-joined with the assistance of the radar controller, who was interrupting his instructions with a relay of the disconsolate MiG leader’s calls. “Shortie has ejected,” Nawaz heard Shankar tell Amritsar, as he kept his ear to the VHF monitor.

Flt Lt Tejwant Singh had ironically gone down to the Sabre, an aircraft that he had himself trained on during the friendship with some of the PAF pilots[11] during the course may also have been instructive in some ways, for to ‘know thy enemy’ is a familiar dictum of warfare. The superior performance of the MiG-21, versus the Sabre, was another factor of consequence in the dogfight. In the final analysis, however, it is the man behind the gun that makes the difference, as Maqsood demonstrated in this classic dogfight.

Damage at Bases

The PAF was able to inflict punishment on fleeing raiders only after they had attacked PAF bases and radar installations. For the most part, all raiders went through with weapons delivery. Some of the raids that caused significant damage or destruction on the bases are discussed here.

During an attack on Chaklala on 4 December, two Hunters from Pathankot-based No 20 Squadron damaged a salvaged C-130, along with some damage to the ATC building.[12] Next morning, two Hunters, again from No 20 Squadron, destroyed a UN Twin Otter and a US embassy Beech Queen Air commuter aircraft parked on the tarmac.[13]

On 4 December, two Hunters from No 20 Squadron attacked Murid and were able to destroy an F-86F and damage another, in a strafing attack.[14] Not having learnt a lesson from this attack, the base took the worst beating of the war on the morning of 8 December, when two Hunters from a four-ship formation, yet again from No 20 Squadron, were able to knock out two armed F-86Fs parked in the open. The ensuing inferno caused sympathetic detonation amongst several F-86s parked in hessian-covered pens, nearby. Three more F-86s were thus destroyed and two damaged. Many spare drop tanks were also destroyed.[15]

The forward airfield of Chander was successfully attacked at night by Canberras on several occasions. On the nights of 3/4, 4/5, 5/6 and 6/7 December, a Canberra each, cratered the runway regularly – and accurately – till it was rendered unfit for operations. The night raids were overlaid with day attacks by Su-7s. On the morning of 9 December, a pair of Su-7s delivered fragmentation bombs in the airfield area, rendering any operational activity, including runway repair, untenable. Luckily, the airfield only figured out as a turn-around facility for emergency recoveries and, its immobilisation did not upset PAF plans in any way.

In an attack on the midnight of 3/4 December, a Canberra cratered the fair weather strip adjacent to the main runway at Sargodha. Debris kicked on to the runway took a few hours to be cleared. On the night of 5 December, during an attack by a Canberra, Sargodha runway was cratered and, remained unusable for several hours. A second bomb dropped in the same run landed at an engineering facility, killing two officers who were at work. One of the vintage 3.7” guns of 52 Medium Air Defence Regiment was able to exact instant retribution, so it seemed, when a well-aimed shot hit the intruder. The Canberra struggled to stay aloft for a few minutes, but finally went down near Bhalwal, killing its crew of two.[16]

On the morning of 4 December, a four-ship formation of No 32 Squadron Su-7s operating out of Amritsar, struck Rafiqui Base. The rocket attack resulted in damage to an F-86E parked outside a pen, as also to a transiting B-57 that was being serviced on the tarmac. One dummy aircraft was also destroyed.[17] Early at dawn of 6 December, a Canberra was able to make two craters about half way down the runway, rendering it unusable for the next three-and-a-half days.

Blitz Unchecked

The IAF had a free hand in its interdiction campaign against the railway network, along with a few attacks against targets of strategic importance. Lack of low level radar cover meant that intruders came in completely unobserved and unmolested by interceptors. Shortage of AAA assets resulted in these target areas being unguarded, leaving the attackers with little to worry about during weapon delivery.

The railway network on Sialkot-Shahdara Section, Jhelum-Lahore Section, Lahore-Sahiwal Section, Shahdara-Lyallpur Section, Kasur-Arifwala Section, Mandi Sadiqganj-Samasatta Section and Bahawalpur-Lodhran Section, was attacked incessantly. Twenty-five railway stations on these sections were targeted, with Wazirabad and Kasur receiving as many as five visits each. In general, the railway sectors selected for attacks were mostly those along which the Indians expected, or were aware, that Pakistan Army reinforcements might materialise.

Sixteen trains were also attacked on these sections, while many track segments were damaged. Five of the attacked trains happened to be of ‘special military’ category. The damage incurred on these trains was, however, inconsequential. Neither was any Army movement impeded, nor were any vital supplies interdicted.

It was widely rumoured that enemy agents had been placed at sensitive places for passing timely information about movement of the trains to the IAF via clandestine transmitters. It was also apprehended that such agents might have been receiving information about military trains from sources planted in one of several government departments which had advance information about movement of trains. In the event, the widespread rumours about radio transmitters were unfounded. However, given the facility with which clandestine activities could be undertaken in the socio-culturally similar Punjab area, there are reasons to believe that information about the movement of trains was often available to the enemy. The large number of employees also makes the railway system particularly vulnerable to penetration by enemy intelligence and, the IAF seems to have exploited this weakness well.

Even if one were to avoid reading too much into the purported help from clandestine sources, it would be clearly seen that due to vulnerability of the railway system at large, the IAF felt free to attack it at leisure. Absence of interceptors and AAA only made the interdiction campaign uncomplicated and effortless.

In concert with its interdiction campaign against the railways, the IAF tried its hand at bombing some targets of economic value whose destruction could hamper the war-making potential, albeit over a long term.

On the morning of 6 December a flight of three Hunters from No 20 Squadron[18] attacked Attock Oil Refinery, located at the outer reaches of Rawalpindi. Two strafing runs by the Hunters set fire to several fuel tanks. The AAA defences were taken by surprise, but by the time the guns opened up, the damage had been done. The Hunters survived the AAA barrage and, with no interceptors on patrol, they made good their escape.

The next economic target taken was the power house of Mangla Dam. On the morning of 7 December, a four-ship Hunter formation, again from No 20 Squadron, carried out a rocket attack, but the results were inconclusive due to hung rockets with several members. Another three-ship raid was flown the same afternoon and, some damage was claimed. The dam was defended by AAA, but the attackers were able to catch them unawares by ingressing low. Lack of early warning also precluded the possibility of any interception.

IAF’s lackadaisical strategic bombing campaign in the northern sector did not go beyond the three-odd missions. Interdiction of the railway system was seen as a far more lucrative exercise, due to the complete absence of any sort of defences. Also, interdiction promised rapid results which were of consequence to the on-going land battles, whereas the strategic strikes required a long-term concerted campaign and, were antithetical to an envisaged short war. The IAF strategic bombing effort could, however, be seen as an attempt to further stretch the already thinned Pakistani air defences.

PAF Survives as ‘Force in Being’

For defence of the VAs and VPs in the northern sector, PAF flew a total of 1,417 sorties employing F-6, F-86E/F and Mirage IIIE; these included 1,317 day sorties and 100 night sorties. A total of eleven enemy aircraft were shot down by PAF fighters, all while egressing, after attacking PAF bases or radars.

It was apparent that IAF had changed its strategy of hitting PAF bases, as it turned out to be disruptive at best and, except for one case when Rafiqui was closed down for a considerable period, PAF operations continued apace. The losses incurred by the IAF during these strikes were morale-shattering, though its ability to generate the required flying effort remained unaffected.

Despite scarcity of AAA resources in the battlefield, the Army had whole-heartedly provided cover to all operational PAF bases in the northern sector. AAA proved to be a useful complement to the interceptors and, in a few cases, was able to get hold of the intruders in the terminal phase of the attack, after they had managed to sneak in unseen. Two aircraft were shot down by the guns at Rafiqui, while one was shot down at Sargodha.

The real success of AAA came about over the battlefield where 17 IAF aircraft were shot down in Chamb, Shakargarh, Lahore and Suleimanki Sectors. The role of the Army AAA in helping to maintain a favourable air situation, especially over the battlefield, is indeed commendable.

Defence of the country’s communications infrastructure and energy resources had been put on hold, as the order of priorities seemed to indicate. The looming concern was the do-or-die land battle, which required a totally fixated approach to tactical air support. For this purpose, the PAF managed to remain a ‘force in being’ while inflicting sufficient damage on the IAF during the latter's onslaught.

___________________

[1] The pilot of this Su-7 was the OC of No 222 Squadron, Wg Cdr Allan Albert da Costa.
[2] A warhead’s proximity detonation, unlike a direct hit, may not cause an explosion every time.
[3] It was advisable to fire the centre gun and side guns separately to prevent rattle and vibrations, which could loosen or dislodge electrical connectors of radios, etc.
[4] The Canberra's 'Orange Putter' tail warning radar (an active device) was prone to picking up ground clutter and, was usually turned off by the pilots to avoid false alarms at lower altitudes. It is likely that Sasoon had also kept it off.
[5] It is difficult to attribute the exact extent of damage/destruction at Sakesar to either of the two Hunter formations.
[6] The pilot belonged to the Tactics & Air Combat Development Establishment based at Ambala.
[7] Wreckage of Afzal’s F-6 revealed Sidewinder warhead shrapnel embedded in the exhaust area, which quashed speculation that the F-6 may have flown through Kadam’s exploding Su-7.
[8] Chapter X – ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 427.
[9] The IAF used Very High Frequency (VHF) while the PAF used Ultra High Frequency (UHF) for radio communications.
[10] The IAF MiG-21s were usually configured with two K-13 missiles and a centre-line drop tank each, the latter replacing the optional 23mm belly gun pack.
[11] Flg Offrs M Arshad Choudhry and Salim Baig Mirza were Tejwant’s course-mates at Nellis AFB, USA. In a twist of fate, Baig was there to cheer up Tejwant when the latter was in custody as a POW in Rawalpindi. Maqsood Amir also briefly met his victim during the latter’s transit to the POW camp.
[12] This attack was led by Lt Arun Prakash (an IN pilot on depuation to the IAF), with Flg Off B C Karumbaya as his wingman.
[13] This attack was led by Sqn Ldr R N Bharadwaj, with Flt Lt Gahlaut as his wingman.
[14] This attack was led by Sqn Ldr A A D’Rozario, with Flg Off S Balasubramaniam as his wingman. Two other formation members missed the target and exited.
[15] This attack was led by Sqn Ldr R N Bharadwaj; other formation members included Flt Lt A L Deoskar, Flg Off B C Karumbaya and Flg Off Heble.
[16] The aircrew of the downed Canberra included Flt Lt S K Goswami (pilot) and Flt Lt S C Mahajan (navigator) of Agra-based No 5 Squadron.
[17] This attack was led by Sqn Ldr V K Bhatia; other formation members included Flt Lt A V Sathaye, Flt Lt V V Tambay and Flt Lt M S Grewal.
[18] This attack was led by Wg Cdr C V Parker; other formation members included Sqn Ldr K N Bajpai and Flg Off De Monte.

© KAISER TUFAIL

Air Defence in Southern Sector - 1971 War

2010-12-29T19:12:00.041+05:00

No 32 Fighter Ground Attack Wing at Masroor was a large composite Unit, half of whose assets had been moved to the northern bases. What remained of the fighter units included No 19 Squadron with a healthy count of 26 F-86E/F [1]. No 9 Squadron moved in from Sargodha on 6 December with 7 F-104As, after completing a few strikes against forward radars in Indian Punjab. A much belated but welcome reinforcement of the air defence assets were ten Royal Jordanian Air Force F-104As that arrived in two batches, starting 13 December. A small 19-Squadron detachment of four F-86Es was positioned at the forward base of Talhar (located 100-nm east of Masroor) as the first tier of defence against raids emanating from the eastern direction, besides providing a quick-reaction force for the defence of the high-powered radar at nearby Badin.

In case of Masroor being knocked out, the runways at Drigh Road Base and Karachi Airport were well-suited for emergency recoveries, though full-scale operations could not be supported at these locations due to scanty logistics support.

Between Masroor and the next northern base of Rafiqui lay a gap of at least 350-nm without fighter cover, through which traversed Pakistan’s vital north-south railway link running as close as 25-nm from the border. Elements of Pakistan Army’s No 18 Division, which were poised for an ill-planned offensive, also lay at the mercy of the IAF as no PAF aircraft were based anywhere close.

As in the rest of the country, control of the air was essentially based on air defence missions that relied upon non-existent or suspect early warning and, disruptive night airfield strikes, with uncertain results. Base Commander Masroor, Air Cdre Nazir Latif and OC No 32 Fighter Ground Attack Wing, Gp Capt Wiqar Azim had their hands full to juggle the limited assets for the seemingly endless tasks.

Just like his colleagues at Masroor, Gp Capt Anwar Shamim, the Sector Commander, Sector Operations Centre (South) located at its war-time site at Korangi [2], was confronted with a problem of inadequate assets, particularly low level radars and night interceptors. High level radar surveillance cover in the southern air defence sector rested upon a FPS-20 radar at Badin and a P-35 radar (ex-Dacca) [3] at Malir. Another P-35 radar, which was moved from Malir to Jacobabad mid-way in the war, became operational only when the war ended. A decrepit, fifties-vintage Type-21 radar was located near Khanpur; it was scrapped soon after the war, but may well have served a useful purpose of keeping the enemy guessing, as it spewed out queer waveforms at odd hours!

Low level cover was provided by a Civil Aviation ASR-4 approach radar at Karachi Airport and an AR-1 radar at Pir Patho. The latter location was supposed to cover the south-eastern approaches, but was an unfavourable compromise due to constraints of terrain, logistics and security. As a consequence, direct flight tracks from Jamnagar to Masroor remained on the fringes of the radar footprint, and could be easily bypassed by flying a dog-leg and hugging the coast [4]. Practically thus, low level early warning in the whole southern sector rested on the reports by Mobile Observer Units (MOUs). Given the inherently tardy chain of reporting, as well as delays in correlation of these reports with own flight plans, the reaction by interceptors was often hopelessly delayed.

A sad reflection of this state of affairs was the shooting down of an F-86E, one of a pair which had just scrambled from Talhar and, was too late to intercept an incoming raid of three Hunters on 13 December. One of the Hunters was able to lunge on to the vulnerable F-86E as it was turning out of traffic [5]. Flg Off Nasim Baig did not survive the gun attack and his aircraft crashed near the airfield perimeter.

An unsavoury surprise came on the morning of 17 December, the last day of the war, when two Uttarlai-based MiG-21FLs escorting a flight of four HF-24s on a morning army support mission, bounced a pair of patrolling F-104s near Naya Chor. After a head-to-head blow through, both pairs turned for each other. Flt Samad Changezi, the F-104 wingman, apparently having spotted the pair earlier, split from the formation and manoeuvred to get behind the lead MiG-21. He had to close in to gun range as no missiles were being carried – an inexplicable error by the mission planners. [6] In the meantime the MiG-21 wingman, Flt Lt Arun Datta, was able to close in behind Changezi’s F-104 and fire a missile which missed its target. The F-104 leader, Flt Lt Rashid Bhatti, warned Changezi to disengage and exit as he had been fired at, but the warning was disregarded in the heat of combat. That inattention earned Changezi a fatal penalty, when a second K-13 missile slammed into his aircraft with an explosion that left no chance of ejection. [7] A squirming Bhatti thought of chasing Datta’s MiG-21 but, being low on fuel and unsuitably armed, he wisely decided against any more recklessness.

Typically, Canberra night raids were launched from Pune (some staged through Jamnagar) and Hunter daylight raids from Jamnagar, against Masroor or Karachi Harbour. These were flown in a ‘high-low-high’ profile, with the high legs flown in own territory to conserve fuel. Thus, early warning of a raid was usually available through the long range high level radars, but sooner the raiders descended to low level, the prospects of successful interception diminished exponentially. Even the F-104, whose AN/ASG-14T1 airborne radar promised a 20-nm search range in the look-up mode, was no help at low level, due to the inability of its first-generation simple pulse radar to sift through ground clutter. On a few occasions when the ground radar did manage to put the interceptor behind the target – even though after weapons release – the Canberra’s Orange Putter tail warning radar kicked off an alarm, resulting in evasive manoeuvring and a clean getaway.

The PAF was utterly fortunate that, despite serious air defence shortcomings in the southern sector, Masroor runway remained operational throughout the war. Nonetheless, on 4 December, a B-57 and two F-86Es that were being serviced, were damaged in a dusk-time strafing attack by three Hunters. Canberras also carried out incessant stream raids during the first three nights, but the main runway was damaged only once, on the night of 4/5 December. As a safety precaution, a flight of four B-57s was moved to Drigh Road Base for the next two days [8]. On the night of 5/6 December, one valuable ELINT RB-57 was destroyed and one T-33 damaged by Canberras, in what may have been a chance hit on a maintenance hangar at Masroor.

The runway at Jacobabad was hit on the morning of 4 December resulting in a single crater. The ATC towers at Hyderabad and Nawabshah were damaged during morning raids the same day. On the night of 10 December, Nawabshah runway was cratered in two places following an attack by Canberras.

On the evening of 4 December, a pair of IAF fighters struck Badin radar after slipping through, unseen. The aerial head and vital components of the FPS-6 height finder were destroyed, along with extensive damage to the power house and fuel stores. The radar was recovered, with degraded performance, after a day.

After 6 December, IAF discontinued airfield strikes in earnest following substantial aircraft losses in the north and, switched its focus to interdiction of communications networks and wrecking of energy resources. A more equable appraisal by the IAF could have taken into account the gross weakness of PAF’s air defences in the southern sector and, it could have persisted in its counter-air campaign without let or much hindrance. The rewards that Indian Army’s Southern Command could have indirectly reaped on the ground – by not allowing PAF to be viable over the battlefield in Thar – would have been considerable.

Due to the lack of low level radar cover as well as absence of fighters in the Upper Sind area, PAF found itself completely helpless against IAF’s interdiction campaign which targeted the railway network on Landhi-Khanpur Section and, between Mirpur Khas-Naya Chor Section. Lack of AAA defences over important nodes of the network made matters worse. Nine railway stations on these sections were repeatedly targeted, with particular emphasis on the important junctions of Mirpur Khas and Rohri; the latter was attacked as many as five times. Even the An-12 transport aircraft was mustered for a massive barrage of eight tons of bombs against the latter railway station, on one occasion. Nineteen trains, including two 'special military' type, were also attacked on the above-mentioned sections, while several track segments between Reti and Khanpur were damaged. Besides the general purpose of degrading the country’s rail infrastructure on an enduring basis, IAF’s interdiction campaign in the south was more specifically meant to choke off reinforcements of men and material to the struggling 18 Division in Naya Chor. That a Pak Army relief brigade and much-needed ammunition and other supplies were still able to arrive by train, in time to staunch the onslaught of the Indian 11 Division, clearly shows that IAF’s interdiction effort in the south fell short of what was desired. It was also some solace for the PAF, much discomfited as it was, in the given situation.

IAF sporadically continued its strategic air offensive in the south against a few select energy resources, including oil storage tanks at Keamari Terminal in Karachi and the natural gas facility at Sui. Commencing with an audacious morning attack on 4 December, a flight of four Hunters [9] rocketed and strafed the sprawling storage farms at Keamari that housed about 100 tanks. The licks of flame spread to adjacent tanks and in minutes, turned into a huge inferno that continued to burn for days. Regrettably, the PAF fighters as well as the Pak Navy AAA were unable to react as there had been no warning of the attack, the Hunters having approached low from the seaward side to avoid the MOUs. While the psychological impact of the raging firestorm was devastating, the strategic reserves of POL remained largely unscathed. Not withstanding the Indian bluster about lighting the ‘biggest fires in Asia’, only five storage tanks had burnt, causing a loss of about 15,000 tons of various oils [10].

On 14 December around mid-day, a flight of four Hunters struck the country’s major natural gas facility at Sui with rockets. The attack portended the ominous direction the war was taking as the IAF operated with impunity, unchallenged from Keamari to Sui.

For the defence of VAs and VPs in the southern sector, PAF flew a total of 253 sorties employing F-86E/F and F-104; these included 167 day sorties and a measly 23 night sorties from Masroor, while Talhar generated 63 day sorties. Additionally, 43 CAP sorties were flown over the battle areas in Thar and Kutch. Neither ingressing nor egressing enemy aircraft could be shot down by an interceptor, in what turned out to be an almost futile air defence effort in the south. The Army AAA, however, had a fair amount of success in being able to down five enemy aircraft during the vulnerable attack phase [11].

Given the air defence assets whose quantity as well as quality left a lot to be desired, there were very few tactical tricks that could be pulled out of the proverbial hat. Air Defence in the southern sector was, thus, a hopeless cause.

__________________________

[1] 12 F-86F were attached to the squadron three months prior to the war.
[2] The headquarters, which was earlier located at Badin, was moved to Korangi at the outbreak of war.
[3] This radar was retrieved from Kurmitola near Dacca in October 1971, leaving East Pakistan with no high level radar cover.
[4] The locations of all radars are believed to have been compromised by defecting Bengali personnel long before the war started.
[5] The F-86E was shot down by Flt Lt Farokh Jahangir Mehta of the Jamnagar-based Hunter OCU.
[6] It was decided to use the RJAF aircraft for night air defence without missiles (ie, gun only), making the wingtips available for carriage of drop tanks instead of carrying them under wings, which increased the drag by about 45%. The rationale was that with the limited effort available, staying in the air for a longer duration was a better pay-off in terms of deterrence, rather than carrying out futile night interceptions in the absence of an effective low level GCI radar or a worthwhile AI radar. It so happened that Bhatti’s pair, which had deployed at Drigh Road a day earlier as a back-up to Masroor, was to return to its parent base as the war in the East had come to an abrupt end. Just before ferrying the aircraft back, the pair was asked to fly an ill-conceived ‘show of presence’ CAP between Mirpurkhas-Naya Chor. That is how an improperly armed pair ended up in a close dogfight that was not quite the F-104's forte.

[7] The downed aircraft was RJAF F-104 serial number 56-787.
[8] While other aircraft could operate from the undamaged portion, the fully-laden B-57s needed a much longer runway for take-off.
[9] The raid was led by Wg Cdr Donald Conquest, OC of the Hunter OCU at Jamnagar.
[10] Mr M Niaz, who was the Sales Development Engineer of ESSO in 1971, led the team that put out the fires. He states that out of the five tanks that were destroyed, three belonging to Dawood Petroleum Ltd contained fuel oil, one belonging to ESSO contained light diesel oil and one belonging to Pakistan Refinery Ltd contained crude oil. A subsequent hit by a Styx missile fired by an IN Osa missile boat on the night of 8/9 December, destroyed one more tank containing crude oil.
[11] AAA shot down the following aircraft in the Southern Sector:

- 1xHF-24 flown by Flt Lt P V Apte, KIA, Naya Chor, 4 December.

- 1xHF-24 flown by Flt Lt J L Bhargava, POW, Naya Chor, 5 December.

- 1xCanberra flown by Flt Lt S C Sandal (pilot) and Flt Lt K S Nanda (navigator), both KIA, Masroor, night 4/5 December.

- 1xHF-24 flown by Sqn Ldr A V Kamat, POW, Hyderabad, 9 December.

- 1xMiG-21 flown by Wg Cdr H S Gill, KIA, Badin, 13 December.

Like the Lovers' Secret

2010-11-21T14:39:00.033+05:00

A weirdly amusing yarn with an unsolved ‘whodunit,’ that has myriad possibilities in Pakistan’s bubbling politico-military cauldron.

A succession of disobedient yawns testified to the excruciatingly long day that the Operations staff had been through. Air Marshal Anis, the Operations boss, had gone to his bedroom to attend an important telephone call, just when the extraordinary meeting was about to be wound up. Air Marshal Anis had called the meeting at his residence to review the efficacy of water-tight measures that had been put in place for the defence of Pakistan’s airspace. Air Commodore Nawaz, in-charge of the Plans Directorate and Group Captain Tufail, of the Operations Directorate, were the only two participants of the meeting. It had been half an hour that the Air Marshal had been talking on the phone and Air Cdre Nawaz and Gp Capt Tufail were alternately heaving their shoulders and flinging their hands in amazement. Were it not for the beeps on their watches that had successively confirmed the time past midnight, they might have waited out their boss’s gossip but now it was starting to get unbearable. Both were slovenly sprawled on the Air Marshal’s sofas, as if under some kind of influence.

Finally, Air Marshal Anis emerged ashen-faced, seemingly bearing the news of someone’s demise. “Here, you guys have a look at this,” as he handed over a small piece of paper to Air Cdre Nawaz. “What do you make out of it?” he queried.

Gp Capt Tufail shuffled up closer to Air Cdre Nawaz to have a look. Air Marshal Anis asked Air Cdre Nawaz to read the hand-scribbled note slowly.

TOP SECRET PD FOLLOWING ADDITONAL INSTRUCTIONS TO EARLIER OPERATIONS ORDER FOR ALL CONCERNED CLN AMEND TO READ MIKE ROMEO AIRCRAFT TO BE POSITIONED ONE HOUR BEFORE PULL UP CMM INSTEAD OF HALF HOUR CMM ATTACK AS PER PLAN CMM HOWEVER ATTACK DIRECTION MAY REQUIRE SLIGHT ALTERATION DUE TO SUN POSITION AT TWILIGHT AND SHIELDING BY MIKE HILLS PD EMPHASISE RADIO SILENCE PD HIGHEST READINESS TO BE MAINTAINED PD NEXT FORTY EIGHT HOURS CRITICAL PD

After Air Cdre Nawaz had read it over twice, to be sure, Air Marshal Anis asked Gp Capt Tufail to read it yet again. “Don’t read out the periods and commas,” he instructed. Everyone became more confused with each reading, which was not surprising, as the three of them had had some very hectic days – sixteen intense hours daily, for the whole of the previous week. To soothe the nerves, Air Marshal Anis ordered another round of coffee while teasingly suggesting that an order for breakfast be also placed while the cook was around.

“Who gave this message, sir,” Nawaz and Tufail asked Air Marshal Anis in unison.

“The top military spook himself,” replied Air Marshal Anis. “He informed the CAS first, who told him to discuss the nuts and bolts with me. Of course the PM was informed instantly. Our guys were able to break into their top secret cipher he whispered,” as he craned forward.

A hush fell in the room, only to be broken by an old number, ‘zulf da kundal khulley na, akhh da kajjal dulley na’[1] wafting in scratchily from the direction of National Defence College.

“Hmmmm …. Mike Romeo, Mike Romeo ….. hmmmm …. Maritime Reconnaissance aircraft is all I can guess,” announced Air Marshal Anis.

“Sir, it could be anything. Multi-Role aircraft, maybe,” suggested Air Cdre Nawaz. “Can you help, Tufail?” asked Air Marshal Anis. “I know you don’t start your office work till the daily crossword is solved,” he added, with a twinkle in his blood-shot eyes.

“Sir if Mike Romeo was to be Maritime Reconnaissance, we are surely talking of the sea. In that case, shouldn’t Mike Hills be somewhere near the Arabian Sea?” Gp Capt Tufail counter-questioned.

“Wait, let me see if my geography is correct. Makli Hills, does that make sense?” Air Cdre Nawaz asked enthusiastically. “I am sure you know of the Makli necropolis near Thatta,” he continued.

Air Marshal Anis suggested something more intriguing. “If we take it to be Multi-Role, then we have a wider usage and a number of interpretations for Mike Hills. Margallas for instance.”

“Sir, we seem to be closing on to two interpretations, then. An attack from the seaward side, whereby some kind of maritime reconnaissance aircraft would provide support measures like spoofing etc, or even controlling the strike package during its initial ingress. The other possibility is an approach from the north, involving multi-role aircraft, configured for different roles. Margalla Hills do demarcate the zone boundaries of some of the most sensitive areas,” continued Gp Capt Tufail, quite adept at summing up complex situations. After all, he had been an old hand as an instructor at the Air War College.

“Time, gentlemen, is of essence,” Air Marshal Anis reminded the two officers. “We have just two days to refine our response, in which anything could happen. Nawaz, it says forty-eight hours, right?”

“Yes sir, within forty-eight hours, but if you noticed this twilight bit in the cipher, it could be as early as four hours from now,” Air Cdre Nawaz replied, sending a chill down everyone’s spines.

“What was the last cricket score, if anyone heard the commentary?” Air Marshal Anis suddenly changed the topic as the batman brought in the coffee tray. “Though he has been working with me for fifteen years now, you never know when these people trip up for a few dollars,” he added cautiously.

“So where were we… Mike Romeo? Any more ideas?” asked Air Marshal Anis.

“Sir, does Medium Range mean anything?” asked Gp Capt Tufail.

“It could also be Mentally Retarded, hein?” The strain was showing through as Air Marshal Anis tried a light-hearted banter. “Okay, let’s settle on the first two and do a re-run. Our defensive plan caters for both approaches. Does this Makli or Margalla change anything?” asked Air Marshal Anis.

“Sir we already have fighter patrols and plenty of SAMs and AAA covering both these places,” assured Gp Capt Tufail. The only spanner in the works is that this cipher leads us to believe that an attack from the north is also a possibility, depending on how we interpret Mike Hills. We had assumed an attack on the Chagai Tunnels via a southern approach as the most likely. I don’t see how the planned tests can be stymied by attacking the sites in the vicinity of Margallas. They have been operational for over a decade. Uranium-Hexafluoride has been enriched by the heaps and can sustain a nuclear weapons program for years. Most importantly, the warheads are dispersed and reportedly, dot every gridline on Pakistan’s map. I think our initial appreciation holds correct, that they would bomb our tunnels and stop the testing process in its tracks. Then, painful arm-twisting and blackmail would follow and, they would ensure that we never try such a thing again. For both sides, it is now or never,” Gp Capt Tufail articulated his views.

“Okay, so both of you agree that this cipher does not alter anything by way of our defensive measures, except that it hints at something imminent?” asked Air Marshal Anis.

“Exactly, sir. We have sprung up like a porcupine’s quills. I don’t think they will be able to get through to Chagai without being pricked badly. We have taken every step that we possibly could,” asserted Gp Capt Tufail.

“Sir, I agree with Tufail,” Air Cdre Nawaz observed briefly, before he broke into yet another riotous yawn, complete with a rude little yelp.

“Okay, I think we can break up now. Dekhi jayegi.[2] Now you have about two hours to catch some sleep. If the sirens hoot, just rush to my house. We will drive down to the Ops Room together. Air Marshal Najib is already manning the air defence battle station there….and don’t keep the phone off the hook,” Air Marshal Anis instructed, half in jest. “And Tufail, I have some more instructions for you; stay back for a while. Nawaz, if you want to hang around you are welcome. I am sending Tufail out to visit a number of bases this morning to check that my instructions have been implemented to the last detail.”

“Sir, I will stay back; Tufail has to drop me in his staff car as mine has been withdrawn for use by some visitors,” Air Cdre Nawaz explained.

“Go visit the two forward bases in the south, talk to the pilots, explain all the measures that are in place and, get a run down of how they have implemented our instructions that we issued three days ago. Leave out the morale-boosting bit. That is their Base Commanders’ job. Take the Air Defence assistant chief with you so that he can explain the details of the radar coverage. Also take the Direcor of Operational Facilities so that he can get a report on the navigational aids, etc. After you are done at the forward bases, repeat the same at Quetta and then stay the night there. Come back the next day. It is rigorous, but I know that you are very fit and can hack it,” finished Air Marshal Anis. “Have you sold off your mountain bike? Haven’t seen you riding around for some time,” he broke into the mundane, as all three got up, finally.

“And yes, take the Y-12. Travel in style, it is at your disposal,” Air Marshal Anis instructed Gp Capt Tufail.

Sunrays stealing through the curtains startled Gp Capt Tufail. Had he missed the sirens? He had asked his wife to wake him up even if Simba, their pet tomcat mewed.

“Did any phone ring?” he asked his wife. “Did Sally call?”

“No, nothing,” she replied.

Picking up the cordless, he dialled Air Cdre Nawaz’s number. At the other end, all hell seemed to break loose.

“Huh, what happened? Has it happened? Who are you speaking?”

“Sir, relax, this is Tufail. Seems safe, so far. I am off to the Air Movement for my tour. You have a good day.”

Gp Capt Tufail drove off to Chaklala Airport where he was met by Air Cdre Ajmal carrying huge map sheets rolled up under both his arms, along with Gp Capt Pervez Mahmood wearing his friendly smile. The Y-12 pilots were waiting and, within seconds they hustled the two passengers into the aircraft. They had submitted a flight plan for a ‘special’ mission which would get them preferential clearances. “VIPs on board,” the pilot called out loudly while asking for taxi permission. The three passengers exchanged grins, quite amused by the importance being given to them that morning.

After a two-hour flight, they reached Sukkur and immediately got down to business. A short briefing by Air Cdre Ajmal and Gp Capt Tufail to the aircrew was followed by a quick drive-through visit to the operational areas. The Base Commander explained the daily air patrol schedule and contingency plans for his base. He then opened up the AHQ instructions and ticked each item after confirming it to Gp Capt Tufail. After the tour was over and they were proceeding to the aircraft, the three visiting officers cheered up the Base Commander by remarking that their readiness state looked 20/20.

The Y-12 took off for Jacobabad around midday. The loadmaster walked up the aisle with a serving of tepid drinks poured out of a thermos marked VIP. Within half an hour, the aircraft landed in what seemed like a hellish other-world. Except for some paddy egrets flapping around their nesting colony adjacent to the runway undershoot, there was not a living being in sight. The pilot announced an outside air temperature of 52°C and, as the visiting officers emerged out of the aircraft, a rush of searing air slapped their faces. By the time they got to the briefing room, they were drenched to their coccyxs. The Sukkur routine was replayed and the readiness state at Jacobabad reviewed. Everything seemed in order and it was noted with satisfaction that the contingencies had been well-rehearsed. The excitement of the aircrew was unbounded and they were ready for action. Pakistanis could sleep tight, thought Gp Capt Tufail.

After a two-hour stay at Jacobabad, the tired and perspiring visitors left for Quetta. The stark Kachhi Plains started to transform into harsh barren hills. Sibi lay nestled a little east of the track, in the trough formed by the Suleiman and Brauhi Ranges. These badlands once harboured the fierce Baluch brigands with whom Brig John Jacob had seasonal spats in the mid nineteenth century. Temperatures in this cauldron routinely cross 50°C during summers.

“Sir, this is a no-fly zone and ours is the only aircraft aloft, other than patrolling fighters. The missiles and guns are free to fire in the area west of Kalat,” explained the pilot as he stood at the cabin door for some leg-stretching.

Suddenly the co-pilot asked the captain to come back to his seat. After some discussion, the captain returned and told Gp Capt Tufail that they had orders to land immediately. Tufail told him to tell the air traffic control that it was a light aircraft and it could not speed up much. “Expedite, expedite,” the controller insisted. Air Cdre Ajmal got up to the cockpit to check what was going on. The pilot told him that the controller wasn’t saying anything more than ‘expedite, expedite,’ every time he called to find out if something was the matter.

After some tense minutes, Quetta airfield was visible and the pilots set up for a straight-in approach. An uneventful landing was followed by fast taxiing to the dispersal, but there seemed nothing extraordinary. Air Cdre Ajmal, Gp Capt Tufail and Gp Capt Pervez picked up their brief cases and maps and drove down to the Base Commander’s office.

Bill Clinton had been in touch with Prime Minister Sharif, for the whole of past three weeks, trying to emphasise the demerits of going nuclear. All the while, Clinton had tried to entice Sharif with firm security incentives. He assured Sharif that he would be rushing his Defence Secretary William Cohen to discuss Pakistan’s shopping list of conventional weapons. Sharif, with a smart politician’s savvy, insisted that a minimum of 72 ‘fully loaded’ F-16s be a starting point and, that he would appreciate if Lockheed set up a factory near Raiwind.

Tough negotiations between the two countries continued day after day while the Pakistanis got restive. Clinton’s National Security Advisor, ‘Sandy’ Berger, had been updating his boss about the situation in Pakistan on an eight-hourly basis and, his recurring conclusion was that people there wanted nothing less than an ‘earth-shaking’ response. “Jang newspaper is the pulse of that nation,” Berger observed. “You look at the pictures of the snarling crowds, it scares you,” he went on.

Berger’s biggest concern was that the khakis in Pakistan were belligerent also, and in no mood to settle for the F-16 sop. He suggested to President Clinton that the package could additionally include 70-odd Abrams tanks, plus 40 Cobra helos that might please the army men. He emphasised that it was most important to keep all power centres in Pakistan charmed, at least publicly, and cajoling and shoving be done back-stage.

“Holy numbers, Sandy,” noted Clinton, as he recalled his high school inter-faith studies.

Time was running short and Berger informed his President that nuclear testing equipment had been in place near the tunnels in Chagai Hills for several days. The tunnels, which had been readied a decade ago and had been plugged, were now being reopened and the work was almost done. “They are all wired up and ready,” announced Berger.

Pakistani scientists had been clearly identified through satellite zooms; the cameras had panned two teams camped some miles apart, one lead by the loud Dr A Q Khan and the other by the civil Dr Mubarakmand. Both were eagerly awaiting a go-ahead, it had been learnt.

Berger suggested to President Clinton that Sharif could be roped in with a plausibly deniable, vague commitment about an F-16 factory and, this could help buy time. All the same, it was extremely important to appease the khakis as signals emanating from Rawalpindi reflected a vigorous determination to detonate rather than deliberate.

“Mr President, if we don’t act fast, we will have only the Buddhists without a bomb,” Berger had noted in his midnight memo to the President on 27 May 1998.

“Congratulations!” uttered the elderly-looking Air Cdre Sethi as he welcomed Air Cdre Ajmal, Gp Capt Tufail and Gp Capt Pervez to his office. Maybe he had picked the wrong interjection to welcome them, thought Gp Capt Tufail. “We have done it!” Air Cdre Sethi uttered excitedly, grabbing both the visitors in effusive bear hugs one by one. Seeing that both officers were puzzled about the situation, he turned to them and dramatically thumped his foot on the wooden floor. “The earth shook like this. You must have been up in the air. It happened a while ago. There was a big tremor and then a smaller one. Right here in Quetta, all the way from Chagai Hills. If we weren’t expecting it, we might have thought it was another of those usual Quetta temblors. Twenty-eighth of May, what a day to remember!” Air Cdre Sethi sighed happily as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Okay, now you can wash up while tea is brought in,” Air Cdre Sethi continued. “I had arranged for you to retire to the beautiful new guest house for the night but unfortunately, that would not be possible. Your boss wants you back. If you are able to take-off in twenty minutes, you should be able to get there before last light. Maybe we can have a sajji roast for you, next time.”

A quick cup of tea and the visitors begged leave. Air Cdre Sethi, courteous as ever, saw them off at the aircraft which had been rapidly turned around.

The three were dog tired and just fell into their seats as the aircraft took off for another two-hour flight home. They were too exhausted to discuss the day’s happenings and nodded off, as their snorts and snores played a bassoon concerto in the midst of the propellers’ drone.

Sooner the aircraft landed at Chaklala Airport, the Warrant Officer on duty at the Air Movement asked Gp Capt Tufail to call up Air Marshal Anis immediately. Gp Capt Tufail closed the office door and dialled his boss.

“Hello….er…..Congratulations sir, it is Gp Capt Tufail here.”

“Congratulations to you too. You guys must be very tired. Okay, we will discuss business tomorrow. There are many important issues. The contingency isn’t over yet, so I had to call you back. Okay, now find an office with a secraphone and call me up again,” instructed Air Marshal Anis.

Gp Capt Tufail bade good bye to Air Cdre Ajmal and drove off to the Staff Operations Officer’s bunker. Sending everyone out, he called his boss again.

“Yes sir, it’s me again… Tufail.”

“Okay, not a word about what we discussed last night. I have told this to Nawaz also. You are not to discuss the cipher with any one,” whispered Air Marshal Anis on the phone. “It’s like the lovers’ secret,” he allowed a hearty chuckle.

“Yes sir,” confirmed Gp Capt Tufail hesitantly.

“Intriguing stuff,” Gp Capt Tufail mumbled to himself as he drove back home. Enigmatically, as he stopped at the traffic light, the adjacent taxi’s radio was sputtering out the last lines of a song that he had heard only a night before, “….. bhed pyar da khulley na!’[3]

___________________

[1] The ringlets of the tresses mustn’t straighten, the kohl of the eyes mustn’t run.
[2] We’ll see.
[3] ….. the lovers' secret mustn’t unravel

DISCLAIMER – THIS IS A FICTIONAL SHORT STORY AND ANY SIMILARITY TO REAL CHARACTERS OR EVENTS IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

©M KAISER TUFAIL

Sundry Air Support - 1971 War

2010-06-12T09:01:00.012+05:00

Besides the raging battles in Shakargarh and Chamb, two other sectors in Punjab saw fierce exchanges resulting in minor, but potentially useful, gains by Pakistan Army’s IV Corps. Both in Sulaimanki and Hussainiwala Sectors, land operations were overlaid by negligible and, largely inconsequential air support.

Sulaimanki Sector

The precarious proximity of Sulaimanki Headworks to the international border dictated that Pakistan Army take offensive action at the outset, so as to pre-empt any Indian designs against the vital Southern Punjab waterworks. For Pakistan, any territorial gain would not only threaten nearby Fazilka, it could also provide a firm supporting base for the impending main offensive as it swung due north-eastwards into the Indian heartland.

The Pakistani 105 Independent Infantry Brigade (IV Corps) was pitted against Indian 67 Infantry Brigade (‘Foxtrot’ Sector )[1]. On the twilight of 3 December, the Pakistani brigade, under cover of intense artillery fire, charged through the Indian troops with such speed and ferocity that it was able to establish a foothold on the tank obstacle line of Sabuna Distributory six miles inside, within an hour. The Indian troops struck by total ‘pandemonium and bewilderment,’[2] had destroyed all but one of the 22 bridges on the distributory while withdrawing; this desperate action also foreclosed any chances of success of their subsequent counter-attacks.

The Indians counter-attacked five times over the subsequent nights,[3] but each operation resulted in complete failure, mainly due to intense and accurate artillery shelling by 105 Brigade. Such was the intensity of the artillery fusillade every time that the enemy granted undue strength to the attacking troops by imagining two attacking brigades. It was, thus, unable to plan properly and counter-attack confidently, much to the chagrin of the Maj Gen Ram Singh, Commander ‘Foxtrot’ Sector who thought that 67 Brigade was ‘discomposed and flustered, its men demoralised and put out.’[4] The brigade saw two of its successively changed commanders ram their heads, as it were, against the dogged resistance by Brig Amir Hamza’s brilliantly-led outfit.[5]

Since all Indian counter-attacks were foiled within hours of darkness, air support during day time largely served to mop up any stragglers, besides boosting own troops’ morale. No 17 Squadron based at Rafiqui flew 55 F-86E sorties, of which 33 were considered successful. In 22 sorties, either no targets could be found or, bombs were released on dead reckoning with questionable results. Half a dozen tanks and some vehicles were claimed as destroyed.

Hussainiwala Sector

Several enclaves nestled in the meandering loops of Rivers Ravi and Sutlej came to be exchanged during minor operations by either side. Difficult to defend across rivers, one such Indian enclave was Hussainiwala, which housed an important canal headworks by the same name. The psychologically significant Indian town of Firozpur lay a tantalising six miles from Hussainiwala.

At twilight of 3 December, Pakistani 106 Infantry Brigade (11 Division) attacked with two infantry battalions and a troop of armour. The opening barrage of artillery fire completely surprised Indian 15 Punjab (35 Brigade), a two-battalion strength unit tasked to defend the enclave. Consternation amongst the defenders knew no bounds when the Hussainiwala Bridge, which had been wired up by them for demolition just in case, purportedly blew up under Pakistani artillery fire. The Officer Commanding of 15 Punjab, safely ensconced in his headquarters south of River Sutlej, was too overcome by the devastating situation and pleaded with his superiors for a withdrawal. ‘Infected by his pessimism’ (as the Indian official historian puts it), the brigade commander was able to convince Commander 7 Division to pull back to the south bank of the river after having conceded about 20 square miles to Pakistani forces. Within 24 hours of start of the operation, Firozpur lay at the mercy of Brig Mumtaz Khan’s seemingly unstoppable brigade.

With the grave threat to Firozpur having developed in no time, IAF responded swiftly and, in full force, to keep 106 Brigade from making any further headway. Without low level radar cover, PAF’s presence in the air meant little and, IAF fighters had virtual freedom of action which they used to some advantage. It is easy to see why any advance towards Firozpur would have been disastrous. As in Chamb Sector, GHQ wisely decided not to expand the operation, since the basic objective of improving the defensive posture had been achieved.

With the Indian ground troops having hunkered down, PAF fighters on air support missions were unable to spot any worthwhile targets. A nominal 29 sorties were flown on the following days and, other than a mission claiming to have targeted Firozpur ammunition dump, all were unsuccessful.

Red Patrols

An important, though abortive effort, involved the move of 1 Armoured Division from its concentration area in Arifwala-Okara to its forward assembly area east of Bahawalnagar. This vulnerable move by rail and road was provided with top cover by standing patrols between 15-17 December. The aptly named ‘red’ CAPs lasted a duration of 30 daylight hours and involved F-86E and F-6 aircraft from Rafiqui, Sargodha and Risalewala. Given the paucity of resources, this was a commendable effort indeed. Its efficacy stood out in relief as no enemy aircraft were able to interfere during any of the 84 sorties flown. In all likelihood, the move completely eluded the enemy due to bad intelligence. Intriguingly, the unusual and intense air activity also failed to ring alarm bells and, the IAF missed an opportunity to undertake a profitable hunt that could have seen the hopelessly entrained armour routed thoroughly. Perhaps, the IAF commanders were completely overtaken by the imminence of the much-hyped Pakistani offensive that never came about.

________________________

[1] ‘Foxtrot’ Sector was a large four-brigade sized division.
[2] Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War, Chapter IX, ‘The Punjab and Rajasthan Front,’ Page 386.
[3] Indian counter-attacks were launched on the nights of 3-4 Dec, 4-5 Dec, 5-6 Dec, 8-9 Dec and 13-14 Dec.
[4] Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War, Chapter IX, ‘The Punjab and Rajasthan Front,’ page 387.
[5] Brig Surjit Singh Chaudhry was replaced by Brig G S Reen who was, in turn, replaced by Brig Piara Singh.

© KAISER TUFAIL

Air Support in Chamb - 1971 War

2010-05-10T07:41:00.014+05:00

The General Staff at Rawalpindi felt that, besides the main strategic offensive in Ganganagar-Suratgarh area, an additional secondary offensive was obligatory for creating a ‘pull’ on the Indian strategic reserves, thereby improving the relative strength ratio favourably in that sector. It was surmised that control of nodes on communication lines in Kashmir could provide the quickest access to vital areas in the hinterland, while simultaneously choking the enemy by severing his supply line. The Indian formations were, thus, bound to be unhinged by the threat to its jugular and, the Pakistani main offensive could thence be unleashed.

The capture of Akhnur town, along with the vital bridge, could sever the main road communication of Indian troops deployed in the western half of Jammu Province. With the defending Indian troops thus choked off, operations could be developed towards Jammu from the western side. For Pakistan, however, it was important to properly secure the Chamb Sector, before any plans for the capture of Akhnur could be put into action. The Grand Trunk Road and the main railway line ran close enough for the Indians to steal a jaunty ride towards either Lahore or Sialkot. This vulnerability dictated that Pakistan Army improve its defensive posture before any further advance.

23 Division was, thus, tasked to first secure the line up to Tawi River; to this was added the subsequent task of capturing an intermediate objective of Palanwala. Akhnur remained the ultimate goal, for which the task force was to 'remain prepared.' The division had five infantry brigades and one armoured brigade at its disposal. Artillery fire support included a large two-brigade sized group. All in all, 23 Division was a formidable force by any reckoning.

The Indian 10 Division, primarily organized for an offensive task, was purportedly retasked to defend against an impending Pakistani offensive. An infantry brigade was positioned west of Tawi River while another one defended the northern reaches of Chamb. One infantry brigade stayed put at Akhnur, to ward off any attack on the bridge from the exposed southern direction of Pukhlian Salient. An armoured and an infantry brigade at Akhnur made up the assault echelons of the division.

23 Division opened up with its offensive with two infantry brigades on the night of 3-4 December. The Indian forward brigade was pushed back and, after chaotic battles, it withdrew behind Tawi River. Over the next three days fierce fighting was witnessed with Pakistani forays repeatedly countered by Indian forces. During the night of 4-5 December, a small bridgehead was formed by Pakistani infantry elements to enable the armoured brigade to break through. Heavy enemy air and artillery attacks, however, forced them back with heavy losses to armour. The maximum extent of advance was about 2,000 yards east of Tawi River, before the withdrawal.

On 7 December, the indefatigable GOC of 23 Division, Maj Gen Iftikhar Janjua, ordered the capture of Chamb and Manawar after regrouping the forces. Both objectives were easily achieved as Indian resistance west of Tawi River had practically ceased. The gravity of the situation had forced the Indian 10 Division to prepare for a last stand at Akhnur.

With the primary mission accomplished and, seeing the enemy in complete disarray, Maj Gen Janjua decided to expand the operation to the more ambitious phase. He ordered the capture of Jaurian, the springboard for a final hop to Akhnur.

Orders for the attack were issued on 7 December, but operations could not start till the night of 9-10 December for several reasons. Regrouping and positioning of certain units and, resting the fatigued troops took up vital time. A replaced brigade commander needed an extra 24 hours to size up the situation. Finally, the unfortunate loss of the GOC in a helicopter crash on the morning of 9 December robbed the division of a “very bold and competent officer” (according to an Indian assessment). When the attack did commence, the impetus had already been lost. Fierce counter-attacks by the enemy, along with heavy air attacks, limited the extent of the Chamb offensive to the west bank of Tawi River. Capture of 90 square miles of territory was Pakistan’s most substantial gain. Its inconsequentiality was, however, highlighted when India ceded most of it, as the occupied territories were being traded off in the post-war Simla Accord.

Air Support

Three squadrons of F-86E/F at Sargodha, Murid and Peshawar made up the fighter element for air support in the Chamb Sector. T-6G trainers were also found handy for strafing convoys in moonlit nights, with the menacing whine of their engines providing a suitable overture to the staccato fire of the .303” machine guns. F-6s, the better-endowed fighters for tank killing, remained committed in the more critical Shakargarh Sector.

The first phase of 23 Division operations that lasted from 4-7 December was vigorously supported by the PAF. However, weapon-target compatibility left a lot to be desired as neither the F-86’s 0.5” guns, nor the general purpose bombs were effective against armour. Mercifully, the air support demands were not desperate, as the situation on the ground never went out of control for the Pakistan Army.

The sprawling Akhnur ammunition dump was sporadically bombed, involving 21 sorties. Forward stocking of ammunition supplies in the field might have cushioned the blow for the short term, but had 23 Division operations developed towards Akhnur, the Indian forces would have likely felt the ordnance deficiencies, if the smoke billowing from igloos was anything to go by.

T-6Gs flew 12-odd sorties during four nights. General area strafing was done on suspected enemy positions near Akhnur, though jammed guns and night visibility problems often dogged these intrepid attempts. In one mission on the night of 4-5 December, Flt Lt Israr Ahmad got hit in the arm by ground fire, but he determinedly brought back the aircraft for a safe landing.

On 8 December, Flt Lt Fazal Elahi of No 26 Squadron was fatally hit by ground fire while performing a close support mission in Chamb area. Apparently, the AAA shell hit the bomb fuse, causing the F-86F to blow up in mid-air.

On 10 December, two F-86Fs of No 26 Squadron had a brief scrap with two Hunters of No 20 Squadron. Sqn Ldr Aslam Choudhry and Flt Lt Rahim Yousafzai had just arrived on an air support mission near Chamb, when they spotted two Hunters attacking ground targets. Aslam manoeuvred behind one and fired a lengthy burst, ripping the fuselage and drop tanks of the Hunter. In the meantime, the second Hunter flown by Sqn Ldr R N Bharadwaj slipped in and responded with a massive fusillade of four 30-mm cannon. The F-86 went down, with Aslam getting no chance to eject. The Hunter crippled by Aslam was able to limp back to Pathankot, with its pilot, Flt Lt Karumbaya, surviving a fiery fate by a cat’s whisker.

Also on 10 December, two F-86Es of No 18 Squadron manoeuvred to get behind two Su-7s while both formations were on air support missions in Chamb area. Wg Cdr Moin-ur-Rab and Flt Lt Taloot Mirza claimed a Su-7 each in gun attacks, though it later transpired that both aircraft made it back to their base after having taken some nasty hits.

The PAF flew a total of 146 sorties in Chamb Sector, which was 20% of PAF’s total tactical air support effort. 89 sorties were considered successful while 57 were rated as failures. Just as in Shakargarh Sector, on many occasions the pilots found no enemy activity on reaching the target area, resulting in wasted missions.

While interference by enemy fighters in the air was not of much consequence, IAF had expended a heavy effort in support of their ground forces around Chamb. Unfortunately, PAF’s complete lack of low level radar cover and, fringe high level cover in the battle area, underscored the futility of flying blind CAPs to ward off IAF’s persistent attacks against 23 Division targets. Without effective air cover, ground offensive plans are as good as stalemated from the outset. This truism finally drove home as GHQ pragmatically decided to curtail the operation and, be contended with an improved defensive posture at Chamb.

________________[1] Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War, Chapter – VIII, ‘Pakistan Choose War – Operations in J & K,’ page 329.
[2] Official PAF War Records

© KAISER TUFAIL

This article was published in Defence Journal, July 2010 issue.

Air Support in Shakargarh – 1971 War

2010-04-14T16:56:00.032+05:00

The Shakargarh Salient juts into Indian territory in a particularly threatening way – the northern boundary of the salient runs not too far from the road between Pathankot and Jammu. The Kathua-Samba stretch is a mere 5-6 miles away, offering the possibility of developing operations astride the road towards the vital Madhopur Headworks. Such a manoeuvre could also serve as a ruse while a major offensive in the shape of a riposte was launched towards one of several important objectives like Gurdaspur, Batala or even Amritsar. Pakistan Army appreciated that a riposte in this sector would likely draw elements of the Indian strategic reserves into the salient and embroil them, thus preventing or delaying their extrication to face the main Pakistani offensive in the Ganganagar-Suratgarh area. The configuration of the salient lends itself well to operations on ‘interior lines,’ whereby a Pakistani threat could be radiated from a single point in several directions with minimal logistic problems. The enemy, conversely, would be compelled to operate on ‘exterior lines,’ having to position a larger quantum of forces all along the periphery of the salient.

Indian Army’s over-riding concern was to protect the vital Jammu-Pathankot artery while capturing important territory through its main offensive by I Corps. This formation had 39 Infantry Division and 54 Infantry Division, each supported by an armoured brigade, as the spearheads of its two-pronged offensive. 36 Infantry Division and two brigades of ad hoc ‘X-Sector’ covered the flanks, while an additional brigade covered the central base, all in a holding role.

For the defence of Shakargarh Salient, Pakistan Army’s (similarly numbered) I Corps had fielded 15 Infantry Division and 8 Infantry Division on the western and eastern sides of Degh Nadi respectively, both divisions supported by 8 Independent Armoured Brigade. The offensive formation tasked to launch a riposte at an opportune time and place, was the so-called ‘Army Reserve North.’ It consisted of 6 Armoured Division and 17 Infantry Division. Though nominally under I Corps, it was directly controlled by GHQ.

The Indian I Corps opened up with its offensive at dusk on 5 December. Facing the brunt of the Indian offensive was Pakistan Army’s lone 8 Division, as 15 Division remained tied up against ‘X-Sector’ force (guarding I Corps right flank) as well as Indian 26 Division (XV Corps), on a wide frontage between Degh Nadi and Pukhlian Salient.

Indian 39 Division, tasked to capture Shakargarh, crossed the international border from a north-easterly direction on the evening of 5 December, but the advance ran into trouble as it hit the first belt of a well-laid out minefield on 7 December. “This, coupled with heavy artillery fire and air attacks frustrated the attempts … to make headway,” reasons the Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War.[1] Another attempt to attack from the north the following day, was foiled when a second belt of the minefield was encountered. It was evident that the inability to breach the minefield and, stout resistance by Pakistani 8 Division had a demoralising effect. “Standard of stage management for the battle so far displayed was uninspiring and weak,” was the assessment of 39 Division’s performance by the Corps Commander Lt Gen K K Singh.[2] He was compelled to abort his plan of investing Shakargarh and decided to redeploy 39 Division forces in another sector.

The Indian 54 Division launched its attack from a northerly direction on the night of 5 December, with the aim of capturing Zafarwal and, in the process, destroying Pakistani 8 Armoured Brigade. By 11 December, peripheral border villages and small towns had been captured, the flanks of the Corps’ forces secured and, the minefield breached. A bridgehead was established for the final assault on Zafarwal by 15 December, but Pakistani forces counter-attacked fiercely, duly supported by the PAF. While 54 Division’s effort was better planned and executed than that of 39 Division, it failed to penetrate the main defences and was able to advance just eight miles in two weeks of fighting. The objective of Zafarwal remained elusive as fighting ceased on 17 December. Pakistan’s 8 Armoured Brigade paid a heavy price by losing as many as 50 tanks during the counter-attack, but it was some consolation that the Zafarwal-Shakargarh chain of defence remained intact.

Indian 36 Division had been performing a holding role on the eastern side of the salient. After failure of 39 Division to take Shakargarh, 36 Division was hastily charged with an offensive task, with the aim of developing operations towards Shakargarh in yet one more attempt. A rearguard brigade of 36 Division had secured a bridgehead across the border on 9 December. Together with an infantry and an armoured brigade mustered from 39 Division, Indian forces advanced up to Bein River and, an assault was planned on Shakargarh on the night of 14/15 December. Pakistani forces were rushed from other sectors to Nurkot-Shakargarh area, which was already well prepared with deep minefields. Intense artillery shelling and exploding mines caused heavy casualties on the Indian forces, which delayed the advance and exposed the troops to more precise fire from well-concealed platoons having adequate recce support. The Indian armour got bogged down while attempting to cross the soggy bed of Bein River and, the advance fizzled out as soon as it had commenced. 39 Division was thrown completely off-balance, its plight only worsened by the absence of IAF which was said to be committed heavily in the Chamb Sector.

Lying within the area of responsibility of Pakistani 15 Division, at the western flank, was the narrow Pukhlian Salient. Its defences were sloppily left to the para-military 1 Wing of Rangers, along with a regular infantry company. The Indian 19 Brigade (ex-26 Division) attacked the salient on the night of 5 December so as to pre-empt any threat to Akhnur materialising from the southern direction. The Rangers were easily pushed out and, a menacing threat to the nearby Marala Headworks was posed, before the regular Pakistani troops salvaged the situation.

PAF Hastens to Help

With Murid, Sargodha and Risalewala optimally located in relation to Shakargarh Sector, air support could be made available promptly. Peshawar, though distant, could also chip in with the aircraft flying a modified flight profile. All together, two squadrons of F-6 and three squadrons of F-86E/F were available for air support operations. Seemingly an adequate force, the F-86s were, however, ill-armed to conduct anti-armour operations with their small calibre 0.5” Browning guns and 2.75” unguided rockets, the latter neither acclaimed for accuracy, nor penetration. The F-86s were even configured with general purpose bombs to blast out armour, not quite the recommended method to stop a tank onslaught, but the situation demanded that everything be thrown in anyhow. It was surmised that relentless bombing would, at least, have a devastating effect on the enemy's morale. The F-6s, were relatively better endowed for close air support, having three powerful NR-30 30mm cannon which were absolutely lethal, as might be expected of the heaviest aircraft round (.93 lbs) then in use on any aircraft.

As the Indian 39 Division ran into the first minefield belt, PAF’s F-6s and F-86s managed to get some good hits at the stalled armour. For the most part however, PAF had to make-do with sporadic and reactionary air support which, in the given, situation was a godsend for the Army, nonetheless. The vital and vulnerable bridgehead operations and subsequent breakout of all three Divisional offensives, escaped punishment from the air as these took place under cover of the night. A pontoon ferry bridge over Ravi River was destroyed on 11 December, two days after crossing by the main elements of Indian 39 Division had already taken place. While the destruction of the bridge did not induce any delay in the commencement of this offensive, it did possibly hamper subsequent reinforcements, as the stalled offensive seemed to indicate.

An exciting situation developed in one of the close air support missions on the morning of 7 December, when four F-6s of No 11 Squadron found themselves vying for airspace with four Su-7s, which also happened to be on a similar mission near Zafarwal. The moment the Su-7s sighted the F-6s pulling up for their attack, they lit afterburners and started to exit eastwards. At that time, the No 2 called that he had been hit by AAA so he was asked by the mission leader, Flt Lt Atiq Sufi, to pair up with No 4 and recover back. Atiq then smartly ordered a split, so that two F-6s were chasing a pair of Su-7s each. “I remember accelerating to 1,100 kph despite the rocket pods which were retained, as I could not afford to take my eyes off the prey to look inside for the selective jettison switches,” says Atiq. He barely managed to arrest his rate of closure and opened fire on his target with the centre gun. “I had expended the ammunition in the centre gun so I switched to the two side guns and continued firing. A well-aimed volley struck right behind the cockpit and the Su-7 rolled over its back,” remembers Atiq. It was later learnt that Sqn Ldr Jiwa Singh, the senior flight commander of Adampur-based No 26 Squadron had gone down with the aircraft, south-west of Samba just over the border. The F-6 deputy leader, Flt Lt Mus’haf Ali Mir also fired at one of the fast-receding Su-7s but it accelerated away, apparently unscathed.

In another close air support mission on 11 December, a formation of three F-86Es from No 18 Squadron led by the enthusiastic Squadron Commander, Wg Cdr Ali Imam Bokhari, had a scrap with a flight of Su-7s, also on a similar mission. Bokhari had just released a salvo of rockets on a cluster of vehicles in the battlefield near Nainakot when his No 2, Flt Lt Momin Arif yelled, “Lead, three Su-7s at 2 o’clock.” Bokhari ordered all to jettison their fuel tanks and turned the formation hard right, to position behind the Su-7s. Bokhari manoeuvred on to the tail of one Su-7 and was about to shoot when his No 3, Sqn Ldr Cecil Chaudhry, came charging in from the other side, trying a pot shot at the same aircraft. Cecil requested, “Leader, leave it for me, please.” Bokhari abandoned the attack and switched to the other Su-7 which was not too far off. Centring the enemy aircraft in his gun sight, Bokhari pressed the trigger and saw a stream of bullets rip into the Su-7. Moments later, there was an orange flash and then the aircraft exploded, with bits and pieces showering down. Commendably, this was PAF’s first subsonic versus supersonic aircraft kill.[3] It was later learnt that Flt Lt K K Mohan of Ambala-based No 26 Squadron went down with his aircraft. Cecil also fired at his quarry and claimed a Su-7, but firing from long-range resulted in a missed shot; no details of aircraft wreckage or pilot status have emerged since.

On 14 December, Sqn Ldr Salim Gauhar of No 26 Squadron, while on a close support mission in Shakargarh area, spotted a light observation aircraft and easily shot it down with his F-86’s guns. There were some anxious moments for Salim after he returned from the mission, as a Pakistan Army L-19 was reported to have been flying in the area at the same time. Their was immense relief when it was learnt that the L-19 had landed safely. It later transpired that the downed aircraft was an Indian Army Krishak. Its pilot, Capt P K Gaur of No 660 Squadron, went down with the flaming aircraft.

During the course of air support operations in Shakargarh Sector, PAF lost three aircraft to ground fire. On 7 December, an F-6 flown by Flt Lt Wajid Ali Khan of No 11 Squadron was shot down by AAA, as he was attacking ground targets near Marala. He ejected and was taken POW. The same day, Sqn Ldr Cecil Chaudhry of No 18 Squadron was apparently hit by own AAA, near Zafarwal. He was lucky to fall into Pakistan Army hands as he parachuted down after ejection, only a few hundred yards away from Indian positions. Cecil was also fortunate to be in good shape and was able to fly again, the very next day. On 17 December, the last day of the war, Flt Lt Shahid Raza of No 25 Squadron volunteered for a mission from which he was fated not to return. During ground attack, his F-6 was hit by enemy AAA near Dharman, close to Shakargarh. He was heard to be ejecting but sadly, nothing more was ever learnt about him. He was awarded a Tamgha-i-Jur’at posthumously.[4]

The PAF flew a total of 296 sorties in Shakargarh Sector,[5] which made up 41% of PAF’s total tactical air support effort. Interference by enemy fighters was not prohibitive and, the PAF was able to perform its task without let, by and large. The missions were mostly close air support and armed recce. 183 sorties were considered successful, while 113 sorties were rated as failures.[6] Poor visibility caused by winter haze was the bane of pilots, though an equally frustrating issue was the discovery of lack of enemy activity on reaching the target area. Apparently, time delays – from air support request, till fighters reached overhead the target area – resulted in a completely changed situation than what was expected. The dense foliage and built-up areas also complicated the visual pick-up problem.

Even if assessed on the basis of a high probability of ‘one target hit per sortie’ (assuming a single attacking pass), it can be seen that not more than 186 targets could have been possibly destroyed in the successful sorties flown in the sector. However, actual claims exceed this figure and, include 115 vehicles, 74 tanks, 13 tank transporters and 6 guns, besides a pontoon bridge. Since such claims cannot be verified accurately in a one-sided assessment based on fuzzy gun camera ciné film, it would only be fair to reduce these claims considerably. Attack parameter inaccuracies induced by the heat of the battle, unfavourable weapon-target compatibility and weapon failures, are important factors that cannot be overlooked.

For an academic discussion, even if the claims are reduced by an arbitrary factor of half, the results still remain fairly impressive. It can be clearly seen that Pakistan Army’s 8 Division was effectively supported by the PAF and, was thus able to deny the Indian I Corps the twin strategic objectives of Zafarwal and Shakargarh, despite repeated attempts to capture them. In the bargain, 8 Division suffered considerable losses in men and material, along with the loss of 265 square miles of territory in the Shakargarh Salient.[7] (Additionally, about 40 square miles were lost in Pukhlian Salient.) Any plan to recoup the losses could not be put in place, as the Army Reserve North had already been denuded to the point of futility. Two brigades of its constituent 17 Infantry Division, along with the complete artillery assets, had been detached to other sectors that were confronted with equally critical situations.[8] It is some consolation that the enemy was denied a foothold for developing operations towards the core areas of Punjab – a chilling prospect that could well have followed on the heels East Pakistan’s loss.

_________________________

[1] Chapter - IX, The Punjab and Rajasthan Front,' page 357.

[2] Chapter - IX, The Punjab and Rajasthan Front,' page 359.

[3] Besides the aerial kill, Wg Cdr Bokhari has the singular distinction of having flown 20 offensive sorties in Shakargarh Sector, which was the maximum flown by any pilot during the 1971 War. Unfortunately, a gallantry award eluded him, despite his sterling contribution to the war effort. He remains an unsung hero of the PAF.

[4] Earlier, on 5 December, Flt Lt Shahid Raza had shot down a Hunter that was exiting after attacking Sakesar radar.
[5] More precisely, of the total 296 air support sorties, 285 were flown in Shakargarh Salient proper, while 9 sorties were flown in Marala area.
[6] Official PAF War Records.
[7] Territory lost in Shakargarh Salient was spread over a frontage of approximately 33 miles, with an average ingress of 7-8 miles.
[8] 17 Division’s 66 Brigade was detached to 23 Division (Chamb Sector) while 88 Brigade was detached to 10 Division (Lahore Sector). The Divisional Artillery was detached to HQ IV Corps.

© KAISER TUFAIL

This article was published in Defence Journal, May 2010 issue.

Air Support at Sea – 1971 War

2010-03-06T12:19:00.074+05:00

At the outbreak of the war, PAF’s maritime support capability of any consequence was limited to night bombing of a couple of Indian Navy’s coastal installations on the Saurashtra Coast and, daytime strafing and rocketing of not-too-distant surface vessels. Measures to locate these vessels were largely of passive nature and, rested on Pak Navy’s shore and sea-based signals intelligence gathering network. Unhappily, at the outbreak of hostilities, much of the communications and radar transmissions had gone discrete and, signals intelligence had all but dried up. Active measures included surface surveillance by a SUPARCO[1]-loaned radar located at Manora, which had been picking contacts as far as 100-nm on occasions, when the somewhat irregular phenomenon of ‘anomalous propagation’[2] was experienced. Ships at sea were good only for more localised flotilla surveillance and, at great risk of giving away their position while their radars transmitted.

Airborne maritime reconnaissance was the optimum and most reliable method, but with Pak Navy lacking any organic air capability, employing the services of PAF’s small transport fleet of six C-130s remained the next best alternative. However, with the planned commitment of the C-130s for unconventional bombing missions, these could not be spared, reportedly. Instead, the C-in-C directed the Managing Director PIA, Air Vice Marshal Zafar Chaudhry to make some assets available to Pak Navy. One Fokker F-27 along with its volunteer civilian crew was put at the disposal of the Navy before the war started. The weather radar of the F-27 aircraft could also provide rudimentary search capability over a calm sea and could, therefore, be utilised at night as well. The Indian Navy, of course, understood that in practical terms Pak Navy’s search capability was of little consequence and, it was surmised that the window of the night offered the maximum chances of sneaking in, unobserved.

According to Indian Navy’s appreciation, if it could take the battle to Pakistani waters at the outset, it would force Pak Navy to abort any offensive plans and, bottle up her surface fleet inside the harbour for the remaining period of war. The planners were also confident that such a move could wipe off Indian Navy’s craven image going back to the 1965 War, when the puny Pak Navy had carried out a daring and morale-shattering raid on Dwarka naval establishment, without being challenged.

Borrowing a leaf from the Dwarka annals – but planning more cerebrally – the Indian Navy decided to hit Pak Navy warships patrolling the outer and inner cordons of Karachi harbour. With the newly-acquired Soviet Osa missile boats, there was no need to get close and exchange broadsides in the old manner. By hugging the Saurashtra-Kutch coast at high speed, the task force would be able to avoid the Pakistani submarines prowling not too far. Arrival at nightfall was a clever safeguard against visual spotting from the air, as the flotilla broke off westwards to take up battle station south of Karachi. A night visual attack on the ships by PAF aircraft was, thus, also out of question.

By 2 December, the main body of the Indian Western Fleet, comprising 13 ships, had already set sail for an area 200-nm south of Karachi and beyond to interdict merchant shipping, but with a more immediate purpose of diverting attention from Operation ‘Trident’ that was to unfold shortly.

The Cordon is Pierced

On the night of 4 December, at 2010 hrs (all times PST), the duty officer at Manora radar picked up a surface contact at a distance of 75-nm on a bearing of 165° from Karachi. The contact was immediately reported to Maritime Headquarters (MHQ). Half an hour later, another contact was picked up at a distance of 100-nm south of Karachi and, duly reported. After an inexplicably long delay, a signal was issued by MHQ at 2200 hrs, warning ships at sea of two surface groups[3] heading towards Karachi. PNS Khaibar, a destroyer which was patrolling the outer cordon, was ordered to investigate. Apparently not responding due to radio silence measures on board, it headed south, as per orders.[4]

At 2245 hrs, watches on board Khaibar reported what appeared like a bright light heading towards them at high speed; everyone took it to be an attacking aircraft in afterburners. The Commanding Officer, Cdr M N Malik, who had rushed to the bridge, ordered the ship’s anti-aircraft guns to open fire. Just then, a deafening explosion was heard as the glowing object slammed into the aft galley, below deck, and blew up the boiler room. Flames leapt upwards as sailors rushed helter-skelter, some trying to jettison the torpedoes, others trying to put out the fires. A hasty message was transmitted to MHQ, informing that, “enemy aircraft attacked…, boiler hit, ship stopped.” A few minutes later, another eerie glow was observed heading towards the stricken ship and, in no time, it tore into the second boiler room with an intense explosion. Uncontrollable fires enveloped the ship and ammunition started to explode. As it started to list, some men jumped overboard from the sinking ship. PNS Khaibar finally went down, taking with her 222 ill-fated hands.

PNS Muhafiz, a minesweeper, sailed out to relieve the survey vessel PNS Zulfiqar, which was patrolling Karachi harbour’s inner cordon. Arriving on station at 2245 hrs, she was just in time to witness the fireworks in the outer patrol area. Altering her course and heading south to investigate the fiery glow on the horizon, Lt Cdr M S Usmani, the Commanding Officer of Muhafiz feared the worst. Suddenly, a speeding light was seen to be headed towards his own ship. Moments later, a swishing object smashed into the minesweeper and exploded with such force that it disintegrated the wooden vessel into pieces. Some of those who had been thrown overboard on impact managed to swim away, but 33 others went down in this second deadly attack, barely twenty minutes after the first one.

The Indian Navy task force had included two frigates for submarine screening and three missile boats for the actual attack. INS Nirghat was the first to engage and it fired two Styx missiles that hit PNS Khaibar. The next to fire two missiles was INS Nipat but its victim remained a mystery for some time till the sunken wreck of SS Venus Challenger, a Liberian merchant ship, was found by navy divers 26-nm south of Karachi, some days after the war ended. Nipat also fired a third missile at the harbour a little later, which hit some oil storage tanks at Keamari terminal. Last to fire was INS Veer whose single missile hit PNS Muhafiz.

Having resoundingly achieved its objective, the task force sped back under cover of darkness to rendezvous with a waiting tanker for refuelling. By dawn of next day, the task force had cleared the estimated strike range of PAF fighters and, was homeward bound. An IAF fighter patrol had been arranged to cover the task force just in case, but no PAF fighters were encountered.

Shocked and demoralised by the surprise attack, a hapless Pak Navy struggled to cope with the crisis that had literally exploded at her doorstep. The PAF, none too happy about its own plight in the south, could only sympathise with its sister service in this sombre situation.

In the aftermath of the attack, an urgent Air Priority Board meeting was asked for (on 5 December) and, Pak Navy was able to muster a motley fleet of aircraft[5] including some more from PIA and different government departments, for the purpose of enhancing maritime reconnaissance measures. Most of them were light aircraft and might have been suitable for daytime ‘coast guard’ duties, at best. Nonetheless, with the warships bottled up in the harbour or hidden away around Cape Monze and Gadani, additional aircraft for patrolling were considered a welcome help for the overworked PIA F-27. It was to be seen if the desperate measure meant anything.

Hitting Back

In the wake of the missile attack, Pak Navy felt – almost as an after-thought – that the home base of the missile boats at Okha needed to be taken out. In all likelihood, the tit-for-tat raid serving as a retribution of sorts would have been uppermost in the minds of the Naval Staff. In any case, the necessity of tackling the threat of missile boats also sank in at PAF’s COC and it was agreed to attack Okha harbour. Of course, it was not expected that the missile boats would still be berthed at the quay-side in Okha. As a matter of fact, these had already been dispersed to smaller locations along the Saurashtra Coast, even before the war had started. Nonetheless, it was the considered opinion of Pak Navy that a hit on the infrastructure could hamper missile boat operations to some extent.

On the evening of 5 December, Flt Lt Shabbir A Khan was standing out on the B-57 tarmac watching preparations for the night missions, when he was informed about being detailed for a strike on Okha harbour. He, along with his navigator, Sqn Ldr Ansar Ahmad, rushed off to the operations room to start planning the mission. Two hours after moonrise seemed like a good selection of the TOT, as the glimmering sea would clearly outline the edges of the darkened harbour.

Taking off at 2210 hrs, the B-57 got a fiery send-off as the AAA opened up in the nearby Karachi harbour, signalling an air raid. Continuing the take-off, Shabbir and Ansar settled down to watch – with unnerving anticipation – the moonbeams dazzling the creeks and estuaries of the Kutch Coast to their port side. Finally, turning to the attack heading, they picked up a sizeable flotilla on their radar, about 20-nm to their starboard. There was a temptation to go for the ships, but discipline prevailed and they continued for the designated target. Reaching the pull-up point, Shabbir pushed the throttles to 100% power, while Ansar started to guide him into the attack. Just when Shabbir pressed the bomb release button and there was no release, Ansar realised that he had forgotten to arm the release switch. In a fraction of a second he flipped the switch on and Shabbir pipped the button again, pulling out of the dive narrowly. After some 10-odd seconds, there was a tremendous flash of light and the aircraft shook up with the blast. A direct hit had been achieved as nine 500-lb bombs slammed into fuel tanks and other stores at the harbour. In the meantime AAA had started to fire and the sky seemed ablaze. Shabbir and Ansar saw the shells continuously exploding along the aircraft’s flight path but luckily, the bomber escaped unscathed.

The attack had been a tremendous success and, news that the home base of the missile boats was in flames turned out to be thoroughly cathartic for all and sundry in the Pak Navy and PAF. A pair of F-104s which visited Okha for another attack four days later, reported that the harbour was still smouldering and the smoke could be seen from as far as 60-nm. The Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War notes that, “two air attacks were also carried out on Okha and some fuel tanks were set ablaze, thereby denying the missile boats any further use of this port as a forward base.”[6]

Harbour in Flames

Seeing the success of Operation ‘Trident’ which had resulted in huddling up of Pak Navy ships in the harbour, Indian Navy decided that the main force of the Western Fleet would carry out a similar attack from the unexpected south-westerly direction, the very next night. However, breakdown of two vessels forced the withdrawal of a group of five,[7] which sailed back home and consequently, the attack had to be postponed. Subsequent snags, and then bad weather, delayed the operation further.

On the night of 8/9 December, at around 2245 hrs, lookouts at Manora suddenly picked up the infamous glow hurtling towards them, then crossing overhead and slamming into the nearby oil tank farms at Keamari.[8] A tremendous fire engulfed the terminal and the whole harbour lit up, visible from miles. Distressingly, fires lit by an earlier air attack on the morning of 4 December had been laboriously put out just a day earlier.

A few minutes after the first attack, another missile hit the anchored British-owned merchant ship Harmatton, causing it to sink in no time. This was immediately followed by a third missile which hit the SS Gulf Star, also anchored, flying the Panamanian flag. It survived the attack with serious damage.[9]

A fourth missile hit PNS Dacca, the Navy’s supply ship which was idling in the harbour for maintenance, having been out at sea for 25 days at a stretch. A portion of the ship caught fire but, due to the courage and presence of mind of its Officer Commanding, Cdr S Q Raza, the steam smothering system was operated and a major explosion averted; the fires were put out by midnight. By next evening, power had been restored and the ship was moved further inshore, where she remained till the end of the war.

The attacking force had consisted of three frigates escorting the missile boat INS Vinash. All four missiles were fired by this boat from a distance of 12 miles from the harbour. After the attack, the group was able to make a getaway without any hitch and, rendezvoused with the Western Fleet flagship INS Mysore for a return to Bombay.

The operation had again been thoroughly successful and rendered Pak Navy’s surface fleet incapable of any operation during the war. However, it must be said that if international conventions on declaring and enforcing a blockade had been heeded to by the Indian Navy, at least the loss of lives on-board foreign merchant shipping could have been avoided.

Whither PAF?

With ‘do-it-yourself’ maritime reconnaissance in the hands of PIA and Pak Navy, PAF was expected to only carry out anti-surface vessel attacks during daytime. It is alleged that PAF was called out many times but the usual refrain was that ‘effort was not available’. What is known is that PAF flew 22 day missions (F-86E and F-104) and 10 night missions (B-57 and T-33) searching for enemy missile boats and other ships, none of which were successful. Regrettably, the reports of sighting of enemy ships were either bogus or, the ships were incorrectly located. On one occasion, for instance, PNS Zulfiqar was strafed west of Cape Monze by a pair of F-86s, after the target was repeatedly confirmed by a frantic MHQ as being hostile.

It is evident that the fundamental problem of maritime support lay in the inadequacy of airborne maritime reconnaissance, as the platforms were under-equipped and crew untrained. With Pak Navy officers on-board the F-27 aircraft having no prior experience in this role and their PIA pilots literally finding themselves at sea, the outcome could not have been any better. Sadly, but not surprisingly, the PIA Fokker F-27 (AP-ALX) crashed on the night of 12/13 December off the Makran Coast while on a recce mission, killing its crew of four.[10] In all probability, the fatigued pilots were disoriented in a pitch dark night, as the aircraft descended uncontrollably into the coastal Ras Malan Hills. The wreckage of the F-27 was found after the war.

On at least three occasions at night, Indian Navy task groups were reportedly located by the recce aircraft,[11] but these reports could not be followed up with actual strikes as PAF aircraft were not equipped with any aids for sighting and attacking ships at night. In all three cases, the ships had taken evasive measures and had broken off from the area by daybreak and, were not traceable. It is open to question if the attacking aircraft would have been able to successfully penetrate the formidable AAA screen of the task groups for a close-in dive attack, even at daytime. Not the least, lacking any practical training in the anti-shipping role whatsoever, PAF pilots were not expected to blast away bridges and boiler rooms during their first lessons at sea.

It may also be opportune to clarify that of the 127 visual reconnaissance sorties that were ‘made available’, as the Story of the Pakistan Air Force – Saga of Courage and Honour states,[12] PIA flew 59 sorties while other civilain aircraft flew 68 sorties, all with their own crew. Even though the effort did not yield any concrete results, the dedication of the volunteer pilots is, indeed, commendable.

On one occasion on 10 December, while on an unusual maritime recce mission in a F-104 searching for Osa boats, Wg Cdr Arif Iqbal chanced upon an Indian Navy Alizé maritime patrol aircraft off Jakhau on the Saurashtran Coast. The hapless aircraft jinked and thrashed about very low over the water as Arif settled behind it with some difficulty. The Alizé was seen to tumble into the sea eventually; whether it was the result of gunfire or, was due to a wingtip grazing the swells, remains moot.[13] The patrolling Alizé was part of a massive hunt for Pak Navy submarine PNS Hangor in the eastern Arabian Sea, after she had sunk an Indian Navy frigate INS Khukri the previous morning and escaped successfully.

The sum total of all the help that PAF could provide to Pak Navy was only one successful strike against the enemy missile boat facility at Okha harbour. Planners at both services headquarters must have rued their vacillation in striking a couple of harbours on Saurashtra Coast as an opening gambit of the war. An audacious and imaginative plan might have included a staged-through attack on Bombay harbour too, à la Agra strike.[14] Arguably, the Styx missile attacks of 4/5 December may have been preventable after all, if the later raid on Okha was anything to go by.

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[1] Space and Upper Atmospheric Research Committee.

[2] Long ranges are possible under conditions of anomalous propagation of radio waves that is particularly prevalent in winter months in the Arabian Sea.

[3] The one nearer to Karachi was the group of three missile boats and the further one was the pair of frigates.

[4] Contrary to some writings that PNS Khaibar was caught unawares, the Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War confirms that the first target that INS Nirghat engaged had been “zigzagging, revealing hostile intentions,” before heading towards the task force. “This ship continued coming towards the task force and was quickly reducing distance.” (Chapter-XI, ‘Naval Operations in the Arabian Sea,’ page 472.)

[5] These additional aircraft included: 1xF-27 & 2xTwin Otters (PIA), 1xCessna 310 (Governor Punjab), 1xBeaver DHC-2 (Plant Protection Dept), 2xCessna 150 (Karachi Aero Club) and 1xAero Commander (PAF).

[6] Chapter-XI, ‘Naval Operations in the Arabian Sea,’ page 474.

[7] This was the group of vessels picked up by Flt Lt Shabbir A Khan and Sqn Ldr Ansar Ahmad on the B-57 radar while proceeding to attack Okha.

[8] Only one tank containing crude oil caught fire during the attack on the night of 8/9 Dec. This was stated by Mr M Niaz, who was the Sales Development Engineer of ESSO in 1971 and, led the team that put out the fire.

[9] The New York Times correspondent Henry Kamm reported in his 11 December despatch that the wife and child of the Greek captain of Gulf Star were killed in the attack. He also reported that seven seamen were killed in the attack on Harmatton.

[10] The PIA crew included Captain Mubashir Hameed, First Officer Syed Khalid Javaid and Navigator B D Cheema. The PN observer on board was Lt Cdr A I Nagi. The loss of the F-27 has been recorded by CAA and PIA as 'missing on flight from Karachi to Zahedan, Iran.'

[11] The Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War confirms these three occasions: 1) "From evening of 3 Dec till 0200 hrs on 4 Dec, the Main Fleet was shadowed by three maritime aircraft." 2) "On 6 Dec, several enemy aircraft were shadowing additional vessels (Saurashtra Group) that were to join the Main Fleet south west of Karachi; as a consequence, the group had to turn back without joining the Main Fleet." 3) "At 2040 hrs on 8 Dec, two slow flying aircraft shadowed the Makran Group (INS Mysore, flagship of the Western Fleet)." The number of aircraft reported to be shadowing the ships far exceeds their availability with Pak Navy and, the author is inclined to believe that some of these aircraft may have belonged to foreign forces (likely USA), which may have entered the fray for keeping a tab on what was going on.

[12] 'A War Against Secession,' page 466.

[13] The aircraft belonged to Bombay-based No 310 Squadron of Indian Navy. The crew included the pilot Lt Cdr Ashok Roy and observers Lt H S Sirohi and Aircraftman Vijayan, none of whom survived.

[14] A two-ship B-57 strike on Bombay harbour, staged through Talhar, was planned but cancelled at the last moment, later during the war, according to Wg Cdr Akhtar Bukhari, the B-57 detachment commander at Masroor who was to fly the mission alongwith the Base Commander, Air Cdre Nazir Latif. Some B-57s had been modified to carry four F-86 drop tanks under the wings to be able to fly a lo-lo-lo profile. Two similar long-range strikes had been flown earlier by Mianwali-based B-57s when they staged-through Rafiqui (Shorkot) to attack distant Agra.

Acknowledgements are due to Air Marshal Zafar Choudhry (Retd), Vice Admiral Asif Humayun (Retd), Rear Admiral M A K Lodhi (Retd), Air Vice Marshal M Akhtar Bukhari (Retd) and Captain 'Johnny' Sadiq (PIA), for providing useful information for this article.

This article was published in Defence Journal, April 2010 issue.

The Mirage III/5/50 Family

2009-12-07T15:58:00.051+05:00

“Like a desert vision, so that enemy pilots should see it but never catch up with it.” Thus, Marcel Dassault lyrically interpreted the French Air Staff Requirement (ASR) of 1953 for ‘a lightweight all-weather interceptor, capable of climbing to 18 kilometres in six minutes, with level flight speed of Mach 1.3’. Sud-Ouest’s Trident, Sud-Est’s Durandal and Avions Marcel Dassault’s MD-550 were the three contenders bidding for the contract. The single-seat, tailless delta-winged MD-550 flew for the first time on 25 June 1955, powered by two non-afterburning Armstrong Siddeley Viper turbojets. After some redesign including installation of afterburners and a rocket motor and, reduction of tailfin size, Dassault figured that the aircraft was evocative of his ‘desert vision’ and aptly renamed it Mirage I. While it went Mach 1.3 in level flight with the assistance of a booster rocket motor, it did not have the endurance and, was too small to carry an effective payload. Dassault decided to substantially redesign the aircraft while retaining the tailless delta on an area-ruled (‘wasp-waisted’) fuselage and, enlarging the latter to house a single afterburning SNECMA Atar 101-G turbojet [1]. The prototype Mirage III made its maiden flight on 17 November 1956 with the test pilot Roland Glavany at the controls. The prototype also featured moving inlet shock cones which later helped attain speeds up to Mach 1.8.

When some NATO air forces and Luftwaffe selected the F-104G as the replacement for the F-86 Sabre, it became clear that versatility was the name of the game. The French government accordingly asked Dassault to proceed with a multi-role aircraft. The prototype of this version, the Mirage IIIA, flew on 12 May 1958. On 14 October 1958 it exceeded Mach 2 in level flight at 41,000ft, making it Europe’s first bisonic fighter and, prompting a pre-series production order of 10 aircraft by the French Air Force. These featured a bigger wing and were powered with SNECMA Atar 9B turbojet engine of 13,230-lbs static thrust with a variable (‘eyelids’ type) exhaust; the last six of them were also equipped with the production standard Cyrano I bis airborne intercept (AI) radar.

Mirage IIIC (Chasse – Interceptor)

The first production model of the Mirage series, the Mirage IIIC interceptor first flew in October 1960. It was largely similar to the IIIA, though 18 inches longer and brought up to full operational fit. It was powered by the SNECMA Atar 9B turbojet engine.

The Mirage IIIC was armed with twin 30mm DEFA-552 revolver-type cannon, fitted in the belly with the gun ports under the air intakes. Early production Mirage IIIC had three stores pylons, one under the fuselage and one under each wing, but a second outboard pylon was added to each wing, for a total of five. The outboard pylon was intended to carry a heat-seeking air-to-air missile.

Although provision for the rocket motor was retained, by this time the threat of the Soviet high-altitude bomber seemed to be over, and the booster rocket was rarely fitted in practice. The space for the rocket motor could be used for additional fuel.

Mirage IIICs were procured by the French Air Force, with initial deliveries in July 1961. The type was also exported to Israel and South Africa with one example going to Switzerland as a sample for licensed production.

The Israelis put their Mirage IIIC fighters to particularly good use in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. This advertisement, and the low cost of the relatively simple and flexible Mirage fighter, helped make it a major French export.

Mirage IIIB (Biplace) was the two-seat version of the Mirage IIIA as well as the IIIC. It was without radar but was suitable for ground attack missions, in addition to training.

Mirage IIIE (Électronique)

While the Mirage IIIC was being put into production, Dassault was also considering an ‘electronically advanced’ all-weather fighter-bomber variant which eventually materialized as the Mirage IIIE. Its prototype flew in April 1961, followed by the first delivery to French Air Force in January 1964.

The Mirage IIIE differed from the IIIC in having a 12-inch forward fuselage extension to increase the size of the avionics bay behind the cockpit. The stretch also helped increase fuel capacity slightly. The Mirage IIIE is powered by an afterburning SNECMA Atar 9C turbojet having a variable (‘flower petals’ type) exhaust with a thrust rating of 13,670-lbs; it retains the rocket motor option.

The Mirage IIIE avionics featured a Thompson-CSF Cyrano II dual-mode (air, ground) radar in the nose and a Marconi Doppler navigation radar under the forward fuselage, the two components being central to the ‘all-weather’ capability. The Cyrano II radar was compatible with the Matra 530 semi-active radar homing missile, one of which could be carried under the fuselage.

A sizeable number of Mirage IIIEs were built for export, being purchased in small quantities by Argentina, Brazil, Lebanon, Pakistan, South Africa, Spain, and Venezuela. Each had its own sub-type and country designation, with minor variations in equipment fit.

Two versions of the Mirage IIIE that were manufactured outside France, under license, were the Australian Mirage IIIO and Swiss Mirage IIIS (both dispensed with the ‘E’ sub-type label and only used the country codes). The Australian version had two further variants, attack and fighter, essentially differing in avionics. The Swiss version had a Hughes TARAN-18 fire control radar compatible with the Hughes Falcon semi-active radar-guided missile.

The equivalent two-seat trainer for the French Air Force was designated as Mirage IIIBE while for the rest of the export customers it came to be known as Mirage IIID (Dual).

Mirage IIIR (Reconnaissance)

The Mirage IIIR reconnaissance variant first flew in November 1961. It retained the twin DEFA 30mm cannon and external stores capability of the Mirage IIIE but instead of the AI radar, it housed five OMERA optical cameras in the nose. Later models (known as Mirage IIIRD in France) had the Doppler navigation system under the forward fuselage similar to the IIIE; these also had the provision for carrying the Cyclope infra-red package.

Mirage 5

The next major variant, the Mirage 5, grew out of a 1966 Israeli Air Force requirement for deletion of avionics (normally stored in a bay behind the cockpit) from the standard Mirage IIIE and replacing it with more fuel storage for the ground attack mission. As a consequence, fuel capacity was increased by 500 litres. When introduced, the Mirage 5 did not feature the Cyrano II AI radar; instead, it had a small Aida II ranging radar in a long, slender nose. Like its predecessors, the Mirage 5 carries twin 30mm DEFA-552 cannon, and can lift a payload of four tonnes (8,800 pounds). It features two more stores pylons, fitted at the rear junctions of the fuselage and wings, for a total of seven stations.

The Israelis had placed an order for 50 Mirage 5 aircraft, the first of which flew in May 1967. Rising tensions in the Mid-East led French President Charles De Gaulle to embargo the Israeli Mirages on the eve of the 1967 War. The aircraft continued to roll off the production line, even though they were embargoed. By 1968, the batch was complete and the Israelis had made final payments but, unable to get the impounded aircraft, they reluctantly accepted a refund. The 50 aircraft eventually found their way into the French Air Force as Mirage 5Fs.

Like the Mirage IIIE, the Mirage 5 was popular with export customers, with different variants sporting a wide range of different avionics. While the Mirage 5 had been originally devised for the clear-weather ground attack role, it was reoriented for the multi-role mission with some avionic fits. As electronic systems became more compact and powerful, it was possible to squeeze the avionics in the nose alongwith the Cyrano II AI radar and Doppler navigation equipment. This variant combined the best of range, payload and electronics and, aptly came to be known as Mirage 5E (Électronique). A Mirage 5 version equipped with the Agave radar, optimised for use with the Exocet AM-39 anti-shipping missile, was also produced.

Reconnaissance and two-seat versions of the Mirage 5 were sold under the designation Mirage 5R, and Mirage 5D respectively. There was no clear dividing line between the configuration of a Mirage III reconnaissance or trainer version and that of a Mirage 5 equivalent, and in fact they were one and the same in many cases. A study of the differences shows that these designations were simply a clever marketing ploy to complete the particular Mirage sub-type package.

The Mirage 5 was sold to Abu Dhabi, Belgium, Colombia, Egypt, Gabon, Libya, Pakistan, Peru, Venezuela, and Zaire, with the usual list of sub-type designations and variations in kit. (Abu Dhabi, Egypt and Libya ordered a mix of the no-frills Mirage 5 and the more capable Mirage 5E, while one of Pakistan's later orders included the Agave radar-equipped Mirage 5 with Exocet missile capability.) The Israelis eventually built their own copy of the Mirage 5 named ‘Nesher’, which was purportedly based on clandestinely obtained blueprints.

At the time of inception of Mirage 5, the experimental Mirage IIIV (three vee) was undergoing flight trials for vertical flight. To avoid confusion, Dassault decided to switch from Roman to the Arabic numeral notation for the new Mirage 5 variant. In the event, it also helped avoid confusion when Venezuela bought the Mirage 5V.

Mirage 50

A fully-equipped prototype rebuilt from a Mirage IIIR flew in May 1970, powered by the uprated SNECMA Atar 9K-50 engine, with 15,900-lbs afterburning thrust. Fit of this engine led to the next Mirage variant, the Mirage 50. The uprated engine gave the Mirage 50 better take-off, climb and acceleration characteristics and, better sustained turn rates than its predecessors.

While the Mirage 50 also incorporated newer avionics, it did not prove popular in export sales, as the first-generation Mirage series was becoming obsolescent and, the new swept-wing Mirage F1 offered better capabilities. Chile ordered a small quantity, receiving both the new Mirage 50 with Agave radar (later replaced by IAI’s Elta 2001 radar), as well as some ex-French Mirage 5s upgraded to Mirage 50 standard. Venezuela also ordered a few Mirage 50 fitted with the improved Cyrano IV radar and AM-39 Exocet missile, while survivors of the earlier Mirage IIIEs and 5s were upgraded to Mirage 50 standard. South Africa’s Atlas Aircraft produced a few Atar 9K-50 engines under license, which formed the basis of the uprated Mirage IIIDZ dual-seaters that came to be known as Cheetah D.

Canard Mirages

While the canard feature on Mirages did not constitute a new sub-type, the modification was sufficiently unique to warrant a separate mention. The canards concept started with the experimental Milan joint French-Swiss programme in 1968, which featured pop-out foreplanes (‘moustaches’) in the nose of a retrofitted Mirage IIIC. The nose foreplanes had been found to serve the purpose of improving take-off performance and low speed control, but also had the disadvantage of causing turbulence inside the air intakes, besides reducing pilots’ downward visibility to some extent.

Fixed canards mounted on the intakes were a feature of the Mirage 3NG (Nouvelle Génération), a variant that did not go into production but came to be a demonstrator of some of the newer technologies like fly-by-wire, when it was rolled out in 1982. These canards served the desired purposes and had none of the aerodynamic vices that had dogged the Milan project. Mirages of Brazil, Chile, Colombia, South Africa, Switzerland and Venezuela sported canards as part of their mid-life upgrade programs.

Production Run

Over 1,400 Mirage III, 5 & 50 were produced by Dassault or manufactured under license by Australia and Switzerland, till production ended in 1992. Besides reasonable price and easy availability, customisation was the key to export success of the first generation Mirage family. Dassault was glad to accommodate changes in equipment as per customer needs and budget requirements. Even whimsical country codes that played, for instance, on the Australian accent, Jewish religion, Libyan environment and Zaire’s egoistic leader were agreed to, if it satisfied the customer!

Country Codes

Argentina – A; Australia – O (‘Oztralia’); Belgium – B; Brazil – BR; Chile – C; Colombia – CO; Egypt – E, SD (cancelled Saudi order); France – F (Mirage-5 only); Gabon – G; Israel – J (‘Jewish’); Lebanon – L; Libya – D (‘Desert’); Pakistan – P (Mirage III), PA (Mirage-5); Peru – P (Mirage-5); South Africa – Z (Zuid Afrika); Spain – E (Espana); Switzerland – S; UAE – AD (Abu Dhabi); Venezuela – V; Zaire – M (‘Mobuto’)

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[1] SNECMA - Société Nationale d'Étude et de Construction de Moteurs d'Aviation (National Company for the Design and Construction of Aviation Engines). ATAR - Atelier Technique Aéronautique Rickenbach (Rickenbach Aeronautics Technical Workshop)

[2] DEFA - Direction des Études et Fabrications d'Armement (Armament Research and Development Directorate)

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Appendix to 'THE MIRAGE III/5/50 FAMILY'

Delta Wing Aerodynamics
Sweep angle of the wing leading edge helps delay drag rise with increase in speed. In a swept wing, the velocity of the airflow normal to the leading edge is reduced by a factor of the cosine of the sweep angle, with a corresponding delay in drag rise. High sweep angles are, however, associated with the problem of wing-tip stalling which results due to the airflow drifting span-wise across the wing, causing the tips to stall before the rest of the wing. The result is usually a violent pitch up followed by a spin. Wing fences and notches are a stop-gap solution as they generate a vortex over the wing which virtually arrests the span-wise airflow.

On a swept wing, the torsional stresses during manoeuvring flight are enormous and indeed, dangerous at high Mach numbers. Greater structural strength can only be obtained by paying a greater weight penalty.

There is one way in which sharp sweep angles can be used without a lot of problems: delta wing. The shape is optimum for high speed flight. The extremely broad chord (average distance between leading and trailing edges) means that a low thickness-to-chord ratio needed for high speed flight can be achieved. The structure can be made rigid, has sufficient volume for fuel and, there are hardly any practical limits to the angle of sweep.

The low aspect ratio (square of the wingspan to wing area) of the delta wing gives excellent supersonic performance by presenting a smaller frontal area to the airflow. At lower speeds, however, the poor lift-drag ratio of the low aspect delta planform demands higher angles of incidence to generate the same amount of lift compared to a conventional wing. This causes greater induced drag resulting in speed bleed-off during manoeuvring flight; it also increases take-off and landing distances. It may be worth noting that the double-delta winged Draken, as well as the Mirage III/5/50, held the dubious distinction of having the lowest (read worst) aspect ratio of any fighter to date ie, 1.8 and 1.94 respectively, but this record has now been surpassed, surprisingly, by the very modern Tejas with a ratio of 1.75!

By its very shape, a delta wing has a large area which tends to give a relatively low wing loading (aircraft weight per unit area of lifting surface ie, the wings). This helps offset its poor sustained turn performance and enables it to turn tightly at low speeds – often below its normal landing speed – especially in descending manoeuvres in which it can trade height for energy.

Woes of Tailless Deltas

To date, only a few tailless delta fighters have been produced besides the Mirage III/5/50. These include the F-102 Delta Dagger, F-106 Delta Dart, J-35 Draken, J-37 Viggen, Mirage 2000 and Tejas.

In a tailless delta, lift augmentation devices like trailing edge flaps cannot be installed for want of space (though in the Viggen, these are cleverly placed on the large fixed canards). Also, upgoing elevons diminish wing lift which needs to be compensated by higher take-off and landing speeds, worsening short-field performance. Many a pilot who ended up in the arrester barrier has ruefully wished for a longer runway when confronted with a take-off emergency.

Two modern tailless delta fighters, the Mirage 2000 and Tejas feature relaxed static stability. A benefit of this design is that it confers an unstable nose-up moment which reduces the pitch-up required for take-off or during manoeuvres; the harm done to wing lift by upgoing elevons is, thus, minimised to a considerable extent. Leading edge flaps/slats on these fighters also add to the total lift when they automatically activate at slow speed, thus allowing lower take-off and landing speeds.

Canards acting as control surfaces work essentially like tailed deltas, except that the ‘tails’ are located at the front. They obviate the need for elevons to change the pitch, hence saving precious main wing lift. Modern delta-winged fighters like Chengdu J-10, Eurofighter, Gripen and Rafale have fully active canard controls.

Some of the older Mirage III/5/50, Cheetah and Kfir found a partial remedy to their congenital woes through retrofit of small fixed canards, while the Viggen had fixed canards designed from the outset. These canards added to the overall lift in ways similar to the leading edge flaps/slats, except that they remained stuck out even when not needed in high speed flight!

F-6s at War

2009-10-31T19:10:00.026+06:00

The US embargo on military sales to Pakistan at the outbreak of 1965 Indo-Pak War was received with dismay and disbelief by the PAF, whose combat and training aircraft were totally of US origin. Already starting to get outclassed by more modern aircraft, the F-86Fs, F-104s and B-57s were now plagued by spares support problems that rendered them virtually worthless in the PAF. The C-in-C of the PAF, Air Marshal Nur Khan who had cannily led the force during the war, sensed the criticality of the situation and started an immediate search for suitable aircraft from new sources.

Unfortunately for Pakistan, geopolitical realities restricted most available options. Pakistan’s CENTO and SEATO memberships hardly endeared her to the Soviets. The Indians had already made inroads to Moscow and the first shipment of six MiG-21s had made its operational debut during the 1965 War. The Soviets saw India not only as a socialist ideologue that could be helped militarily, but as its influential proxy and mouthpiece in the Non-Aligned Movement. The prospect of Soviets and Pakistanis developing any kind of patron-client linkage, thus, came to be a non-starter.

China, in the throes of the Cultural Revolution, had not shown much interest in developing newer aircraft technologies for the time being. Content with the copy of Soviet-supplied MiG-19s, China mass-produced this single-role fighter in thousands. When Pakistan approached China for military help in 1966, she was only too glad to offer the F-6 as a token of friendship, the initial batch of 60 being free of cost. Though limited in range, speed and weapons payload, PAF inducted the aircraft and assigned it the day interceptor role with a secondary close air support task, which it dutifully went on to perform over the next 36 years.

A Quirky Fighter

The MiG-19 (Mikoyan and Gurevich) was the first supersonic fighter of the Soviet-bloc, making its prototype debut in late 1953; it was contemporaneous with the North American F-100 Super Sabre, the first supersonic fighter of the West. The MiG-19 sported audaciously swept-back wings which, at 55 degrees, were considered the right answer to drag rise during high speed flight, but were also problematic at low speeds due to the lower lift-generating ability of such wings. Designers increased wing thickness to ensure enough lift at low speeds, but more lift meant more drag in another form. Two powerful afterburning RD-9B turbojet engines pushed the aircraft out of this jumble and gave it a respectable status of a transonic fighter which could race through to a top speed of Mach 1.3. A set of three hard-hitting 30-mm cannon and, in later versions, two first-generation K-13 heat-seeking missiles completed the weapons suite as the Soviet bloc’s frontline missile-armed interceptor.[1] (PAF modified the aircraft to carry AIM-9B Sidewinder missiles.) The same set of cannon armed with armour-piercing bullets, along with two rocket pods, served a useful secondary close air support role.

Pilots discovered that they could manoeuvre the aircraft with abandon as long as their speed was not below 500 kph and, they could effortlessly chase their prey if the speed was not above 1,000 kph. Outside these limits lay severe testing grounds requiring special nerves and lots of muscle.

Ready for War

PAF pilots did not take long to master the quirky complexities of the F-6 at the limits of its flight envelope. They often relished the no-holds-barred dogfights with Mirages and Starfighters which could easily be out-turned, if not out-run, in dissimilar air combat. F-6 pilots boasted of some of the best gunnery and rocketry scores in the PAF. Operationally, the pilots seemed pleased to get so much out of so less, as it were. Maintenance of the aircraft was, however marred by a very low time-between-failure of components, as well as a low time-between-overhaul of the aircraft and engine. This was something that the engineers and technicians were able to overcome only when the PAF set up its own F-6 Rebuild Factory at Kamra in 1980 and, rapid overhauls became possible. At the outbreak of the war, PAF had 90 F-6 on its inventory, but due to these maintenance issues, a mere 48 were available for operations. [2]

The F-6s were distributed amongst Nos 11, 23 and 25 Squadrons, each with 16 aircraft. No 11 Squadron, based at Sargodha, was commanded by Wg Cdr Sikandar M Khan. No 23 Squadron, the first Unit to be equipped with the F-6 in early 1966, was commanded by Wg Cdr S M H Hashmi; it had moved from its parent base Sargodha to the forward base at Risalewala, which formed the first tier of air defence against intruders from the east. No 25 Squadron, commanded by Wg Cdr Sa’ad A Hatmi, was split into two detachments of eight aircraft each, based at Sargodha and Mianwali. At the latter base, the detachment had the somewhat unconvincing task of guarding the ‘back-up’ strike assets including 10 B-57 and 5-odd Mirage IIIE for the all-important phase of Army’s main offensive.

Defending the Skies

Air defence cover in West Pakistan was patchy at best, but at low level it had wide gaps and only 7% of the border had radar coverage. Raid reporting by the few rear-located low level radars was not expected to provide enough reaction time for a ground scramble. Similarly, reporting by mobile observers – which is based on visual or aural information – was likely to cause delays. An expedient solution was to mount combat air patrols over possible enemy ingress routes, round the clock, effort permitting. Wasteful though it was, it was decided to man several points in the air and all fighters were ordered up for this task. The F-6 came to be the workhorse for day air defence in the northern region.

The morning of 4 December promised action as the IAF was expected to retaliate in response to PAF’s strikes against some of the Indian airfields the previous evening. The PAF was ready, with fighters continuously patrolling the skies since first light. No 23 Squadron pilots at Risalewala had been tidily scheduled for the day’s proceedings. Around 0930 hrs, as F-6s for the day’s sixth mission were taxiing out of their pens, an air raid warning was sounded. A mission abort was ordered and loudspeakers relayed instructions for everyone to take cover. Flt Lt Javed Latif who was on cockpit standby, started to unstrap from his F-6 for a quick egress. Momentarily glancing out of the pen opening to see what was going on, he was aghast to see a Su-7 diving down straight at his aircraft. “The scary sight of an intake pointing at me is still etched fresh in my memory,” recalls Latif. As he jumped out of his F-6 to take cover, a salvo of rockets landed smack on the pen.[3] Still scampering towards a trench, Latif was rattled by cannon fire from the second Su-7 as the bullets landed a few yards away. Then the raid was over as suddenly as it had started, and the AAA died down too, as if heralding an all-clear. Dusting himself and recovering his composure, Latif rushed to his pen to help put out the fire caught by the hessian camouflage covering. Luckily, his F-6 was unharmed except for a few nicks from slivers of falling plaster. “I was seething with anger at having been violated thus, and hurried to strap up again to settle the score,” remembers Latif. Shortly thereafter, a scramble was ordered for the next pair but confusion reigned as the taxi way had been blocked by the F-6s of the previous aborted mission. This led to yet another abort at a critical time but the situation was salvaged when Latif, who was standing by for a later mission, took charge and hit the starter button on his own. Just as he was taxiing out, his crew chief came rushing towards the aircraft, signalling for a switch off as yet another air raid warning had been notified. “My mind was racing and I had already decided in a split of a second – I was going to take my chances flying and I was not going to repeat the fiasco of the last pair,” Latif recollects. Over-ruling the Air Traffic Control’s somewhat confused recall message, Latif checked if his No 2 was also taxiing out. Hearing no response, he decided to take-off alone. Changing over to the radar frequency, he heard an eager voice wanting to join up as his wingman. It was Flt Lt Riffat Munir on patrol from the fifth mission, whose leader had aborted due to a technical problem. The new partners were only too glad to find themselves as a viable combat entity again. It wasn’t long before the ground radar handed the pair over to ‘Killer Control,’ a cleverly-perched look-out tasked to visually guide the interceptors about the raiders’ position with the help of geographic landmarks. Flt Lt Ahmed Khattak’s confident voice called out that two Su-7s were pulling up for an attack from the north-westerly direction and pointed out their position over the main water tank. After jettisoning their drop tanks and charging their guns, Latif and Riffat confirmed visual contact with both Su-7s. As the attackers approached the airfield, Latif easily positioned behind one of them while Riffat cleared tails. Firing all three of his cannon, Latif waited for some fireworks. Noticing that the aircraft was still flying unharmed, he fired another long burst till all his ammunition was exhausted. Just as he was expecting his quarry to blow up, he felt a huge thud. Thinking that he had been hit by the other Su-7, he broke right and then reversed left but found no one in the rear quarters. Checking for damage, he found that the left missile was not there and the launcher was shattered. The AAA shells bursting in puffs all around the airfield confirmed his suspicion that he had taken a ‘friendly’ hit, but luckily the aircraft was fully under control. Pressing on, he started to look for the escaping Su-7s and within moments, was able to pick one of them trailing a streak of whitish smoke. Convinced that it was the same one he had hit earlier and, assuming it to be crippled, Latif decided to go for the other Su-7. He spotted it straight ahead, flying over the tree tops at a distance of two miles. Engaging afterburners, he closed in for a Sidewinder shot but could not get a lock-on tone. To his dismay, he realised that the missile tone was routed through the circuitry of the left missile which had been shot off. Getting below the Su-7, he fired without a tone nonetheless, half expecting it to connect, if at all it fired. Moments later, he heard Riffat’s excited voice on the radio, “Good shooting, leader, you got him!” Not sure if he had really hit him as he had not seen any explosion, Latif was soon relieved to see the Su-7 roll over inverted and hit the ground. [4] Flt Lt Harvinder Singh of Halwara-based No 222 Squadron went down with his aircraft near Rurala Railway Station. Riffat’s chase of the second Su-7 (flown by the mission leader, Sqn Ldr B S Raje) had to be cut short as he was getting low on fuel and his leader was out of ammunition. No 23 Squadron had drawn first blood after an eventful morning that saw Latif doggedly in business after surviving rocket and AAA hits. For his heroics on the ground and in the air, Latif was awarded a Tamgha-i-Jur’at (Medal of Valour).

Shortly before sunset on the same day, Sakesar radar reported a raid heading towards Mianwali. Sqn Ldr Ahsan and Flg Off Qazi Javed of No 25 Squadron, who were on ‘cockpit standby’ in the hessian-covered pens, started their F-6s and within minutes, were taxiing out for take-off. Just then, Javed reported seeing two Hunters pull up for an attack. Sensing that they had been caught on the ground at the wrong time, Ehsan decided on a hasty take-off and pushed up the throttles to execute a sharp turn on to the runway. Unfortunately, use of excessive power caused him to veer off into the ‘kutcha.’ Stuck in the mud, he became an unwitting spectator as the Hunters delivered their attacks. In the meantime, Javed decided to take-off without his leader. Just as he lined up, he saw the lead Hunter strafing way far to the left of the runway. With half his worries suddenly over, Javed started rolling but danger from the second Hunter remained, as it had all the time to aim carefully and take a hearty shot. Anxious, Javed craned his neck back only to see the Hunter’s cannon blazing at him. “I thought his dive was too shallow and, at the close distance he was, the bullets would overshoot,” Javed recalls his rather masterly prediction. Mercifully, the bullets did land 200 feet ahead and towards the left, so Javed continued his take-off. Once airborne, keeping the Hunter in sight was a problem in the fast-fading light. Speeding at 900 kph, Javed remembered that he had not jettisoned his drop tanks. When he did get rid of them at such a high speed, he induced a porpoise but was somehow able to ride it out. Charging in at 1,100 kph, he had closed in to about a mile and a half, which was just the right range for a Sidewinder shot. He fired his first missile and when he did not see it connect, fired the second one. That too went into the ground. “All this while the Hunter pilot seemed totally oblivious of what was going on and his leader was nowhere in sight, so I gleefully decided to press on for a gun attack,” says Javed. “Since things had been happening too fast, I had forgotten to charge my guns after take-off. Having done that, I first fired with my centre gun till all its ammunition was spent. [5] With the Hunter still flying unharmed, I decided to continue firing with the side guns. After a few frustrating bursts, I closed in to about 1,000 ft and fired a real lengthy one. Luckily, the last few bullets of the volley struck the right wing as I noticed a flash. The aircraft pitched up and rolled over to the right. I only learnt of the pilot’s ejection later, as I had to break away to avoid overshooting the out-of-control Hunter.” The aircraft fell about 14 nautical miles north-east of Mianwali. Flg Off Vidyadhar Chati of the Pathankot-based No 27 Squadron, when interrogated about the circumstances of his shooting down, said he suspected he had been brought down by ground fire! Duck shoot it was, over the idyllic Khabbaki Lake, but Chati should have known better where the bullets really came from. Ironically, the pilots of No 27 Squadron who had been declared the ‘Top Guns’ of IAF’s Western Air Command during a gunnery meet prior to the war, had failed to shoot up the conspicuously exposed F-6s on the runway. [6] For the rookie Javed, who was freshly out of operational training on the F-6, remaining cool under fire was a most worthy achievement and he deservedly won a Sitara-i-Jur’at (Star of Valour) for his daring deed.

The high-powered FPS-20 radar at Sakesar, had received considerable attention on the first day of the war. Shortly after mid-day on 5 December, a pair of Hunters from No 27 Squadron was again able to sneak in and attack the radar with rockets and cannon. Patrolling nearby, over the picturesque Salt Range, were two F-6s of No 25 Squadron flown by Wg Cdr Sa’ad Hatmi and Flt Lt Shahid Raza. They were immediately vectored by the radar towards the exiting Hunters but it was a while before Hatmi spotted the pair. As the Hunters sped away over the hilly terrain, Hatmi wisely decided not to waste his missiles in the unfavourable background clutter. Using his guns instead, he made short work of one of the Hunters which fell 15 miles east of Sakesar. The pilot, Flg Off Kishan Lal Malkani, was killed. Next, Flt Lt Shahid Raza, who had all along kept the second Hunter in sight, closed in and opened fire with his guns which found their mark. The pilot, Flt Lt Gurdev Singh Rai, who was the leader of the mission and, had twice visited Sakesar on the previous day, ran out of luck this time. He met his end when his Hunter crashed near the small town of Katha Saghral at the foothills of Salt Range.

On the afternoon of 8 December, two patrolling F-6s of No 23 Squadron flown by Wg Cdr S M H Hashmi and Flt Lt Afzal Jamal Siddiqui were vectored on to two Su-7s, just as they were exiting after attacking Risalewala airfield. Hashmi caught up with one of the pair, about ten miles east of the airfield, and let off a Sidewinder. The missile homed on unmistakably and the Su-7 exploded above the tree-tops; the pilot was not seen to eject. The remains of Flt Lt Ramesh Gulabrao Kadam [7] were later discovered around the wreckage near the small town of Khalsapur. Hashmi immediately started looking for the other Su-7 and, to be sure of his No 2’s safety, called out for his position. Afzal replied but the transmission was garbled, which Hashmi interpreted as his No 2 being visual with him and, assumed that he was somewhere in the rear quarters. Just then Hashmi picked contact with the second aircraft and did not think twice before launching a missile. If there was any difference between the similar-looking planforms of the Su-7 and F-6, this was surely one time to have had a closer look. His No 2 was nowhere in sight and his frantic unanswered calls to Afzal seemed to confirm Hashmi’s worst fear. Had he mixed up his quarry in the murky winter haze? Afzal, who was chasing the second Su-7 at high speed and had ended up ahead of his leader, was not able to clearly convey his position on a broken radio. Hashmi, an otherwise unflappable squadron commander, should have known better, for he had been too eager for a second kill which unfortunately ended up as a horrific fatality for his wingman. [8]

On one occasion the F-6 was completely outwitted by a Su-7. Flt Lt S S Malhotra of No 32 Squadron, who was on a photo recce mission over Risalewala on 13 December, spotted a patrolling F-6 and took a pot shot before exiting. It was only later that Malhotra learnt of Flt Lt Ejazuddin’s ejection over his home Base.

F-6s flew a total of 674 day air defence sorties (including 42 sorties over the battle area) which was 40% of PAF’s day air defence effort. Five enemy aircraft were downed during the air defence missions, or a kill rate of 0.74% in the role of an air defence fighter. All interceptions took place after the raiders had released their weapons on their targets, which was a reflection of the inadequacy of the air defence system that had been unable to provide sufficient early warning. The saving grace was the ability of the powerful F-6 to accelerate fast and nab the escaping raiders.

Over the Battlefield

PAF’s concept of air support to the land forces was biased towards direct support (close air support, armed recce and battlefield interdiction), as it was seen to yield immediate results in the ongoing battle. Indirect support in the form of deep interdiction beyond the battlefield was considered an exercise wrought with uncertainties in a short war, as the severance of the supply chain was likely to take some time before it showed its effects on a well-stocked front. The F-6 fitted well into the scheme of direct support as its powerful 3x30-mm cannon were ideal for strafing of convoys and rolling stock during armed recce, while two pods holding 8x57-mm rockets [9] each, offered the option of firing a salvo in the midst of an armour concentration.

F-6s found their calling in Shakargarh sector, where the Indians had launched a two-pronged offensive with two infantry divisions along with two armoured brigades, while a third division was deployed in a defensive role. Against this force was Pakistan Army’s beleaguered 8 Infantry Division trying to fight off the massive onslaught, while 8 Armoured Brigade, staunchly but unsuccessfully, tried to launch a belated counter-attack. This sector saw PAF intervening in great force, with the bulk of air support missions flown for 8 Division. F-6s flew all but 9 of their 139 close air support and armed recce sorties in this sector [10] but, regrettably, the mission success was very low; almost half the sorties were wasted as no enemy activity was observed in the area of interest. Hazy winter conditions as well as abundance of natural camouflage and dense habitation contributed majorly to the problem, though wrong reports by the Army were also partly to blame. While it must have been very frustrating for the pilots not to find the ‘armour concentrations’ that the tasking orders promised, they more than made up whenever they stumbled upon them.

An exciting situation developed in one of the close air support missions on the morning of 7 December, when four F-6s of No 11 Squadron found themselves vying for airspace with four Su-7s, which also happened to be on a similar mission near Zafarwal in the Shakargarh salient. The moment the Su-7s sighted the F-6s pulling up for their attack, they lit afterburners and started to exit eastwards. At that time the No 2 called that he had been hit by AAA so he was asked by the mission leader, Flt Lt Atiq Sufi, to pair up with No 4 and recover back. Atiq then smartly ordered a split, so that two F-6s were chasing a pair of Su-7s each. “I remember accelerating to 1,100 kph despite the rocket pods which were retained, as I could not afford to take my eyes off the prey to look inside for the selective jettison switches,” says Atiq. He barely managed to arrest his rate of closure and opened fire on his target with the centre gun. “I had expended the ammunition in the centre gun so I switched to the two side guns and continued firing. A well-aimed volley struck right behind the cockpit and the Su-7 rolled over its back,” remembers Atiq. It was later learnt that Sqn Ldr Jiwa Singh, the senior flight commander of Adampur-based No 26 Squadron had gone down with the aircraft, south-west of Samba just over the border. The F-6 deputy leader, Flt Lt Mus’haf Mir also fired at one of the fast-receding Su-7s but it was lucky to have accelerated away, apparently unscathed.

A brief scrap took place between ‘relatives’ of the MiG family on 14 December when three F-6s of No 11 Squadron, which were on an armed recce mission in Shakargarh area, sighted four patrolling MiG-21s. Flt Lt Aamer Sharief manouvred behind one of the trailing aircraft and fired a Sidewinder. The outcome of the claim has remained moot as the engagement took place in enemy-controlled territory and, no further details of the wreckage or pilot status have emerged ever since.

PAF lost two F-6s to ground fire during the tactical air support campaign. Flt Lt Wajid Ali Khan of No 11 Squadron was shot down by AAA near Marala Headworks on 7 December; he ejected but ended up as a POW after being picked up by Indian troops which were in the vicinity. The other casualty was Flt Lt Shahid Raza of No 25 Squadron who was shot down by AAA near Shakargarh on 17 December, the last day of the war; he was heard to be ejecting in enemy-controlled territory but his fate remained unclear. He was awarded a Tamgha-i-Jur’at for devotion to duty, as well as professionalism shown in his earlier Hunter kill.

The 139 sorties of close air support flown by the F-6 were a mere 20% of PAF’s daytime tactical air support effort, with the bulk flown by F-86E & F. Considering the eminent suitability of the F-6 for the task, a larger share could have been more advantageous. The F-6 detachment at Mianwali was hardly any help in this regard, as it was too far removed from the battle scene; it belatedly flew into Sargodha for air support duties a day before the war ended. Nonetheless, a total of 33 tanks, 42 vehicles and 4 guns were claimed by F-6 pilots in the 80 sorties that were considered successful. [11] It can be seen that this was a useful contribution by the F-6 squadrons to 8 Division’s efforts in stemming the Indian offensive in Shakargarh salient.

Report Card

During the 14-day war, the F-6s flew a total of 821 sorties which was 28% of PAF’s overall war effort of 2,929 sorties. For a relatively new weapon system, the F-6 could have achieved an aircraft Utilisation Rate better than the 1.6 sorties per aircraft per day during the war. [12] While it fell short of the planned 2.2 sorties daily, it reflected a cautious conduct of the war, whereby the PAF was held back so that everything could be thrown in during the army’s main offensive which, in the event, never came through.

Besides the individual gallantry awards won by F-6 pilots, Nos 23 and No 25 Squadron were awarded Squadron Colours for distinguished performance during the war. The battle honours are as much a tribute to the F-6 as its spirited pilots, who forged this spartan aircraft into one of PAF’s most robust and dependable war machines.

_______________________
[1] A later model, the MiG-19PM, had a rudimentary radar and could carry four beam-riding missiles, while dispensing with the cannon.
[2] Official PAF Records.
[3] The pilot of this Su-7 was OC of No 222 Squadron, Wg Cdr Allan Albert da Costa.
[4] A warhead’s proximity detonation, unlike a direct hit, may not cause an explosion every time.
[5] It was advisable to fire the centre gun and side guns separately to prevent rattle and vibrations, which could loosen or dislodge electrical connectors of radios, etc.
[6] http://www.bharat-rakshak.com/IAF/History/1960s/27Sqn.html
[7] The pilot belonged to the Tactics & Air Combat Development Establishment based at Ambala.
[8] Wreckage of Afzal’s F-6 revealed Sidewinder warhead shrapnel embedded in the exhaust area, which quashed speculation that the F-6 may have flown through Kadam’s exploding Su-7.
[9] PAF modified the F-6 to carry 68-mm rocket launchers in 1979.
[10] Official PAF Records.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Utilisation Rate is based on an average aircraft serviceability of 75%. The F-6 wartime UR is calculated thus: UR = 821 sorties ÷ 36 aircraft ÷ 14 days = 1.6.

© M KAISER TUFAIL

This article was published in Defence Journal, December 2009 issue.

Air Support in Thar – 1971 War

2009-10-12T21:17:00.039+06:00

Spiny-tailed lizards scamper across the dunes that make up the vast Thar Desert straddling the Sindh-Rajasthan Border. Buzzards soar on the desert currents during day and caracals prowl the scattered scrub at night. Staking out territory is no easy matter, and every creature treads prudently in this desolate and forbidding expanse.

The 1971 Indo-Pak War saw rival armies face off in the inhospitable Thar Desert, each aiming to unbalance the other’s strategic formations and capturing vital territory in the bargain. The desert offered few objectives of strategic value, as these lay deeper, away from the border. Indian Army’s formidable Southern Command, consisting of two regular infantry divisions (12 Division and 11 Division) and two brigade-sized formations (‘Bikaner’ and ‘Kutch’ Sector HQs) of BSF and Territorial Army troops, was arrayed against Pakistan Army’s single 18 Division required to cover a frontage of over 700 miles. Both of India’s infantry divisions were poised to create footholds inside southern Pakistan for threatening deeper objectives; this, in turn, was expected to unhinge the Pakistani strategic reserves, whose elements would have been detached helter-skelter to cope with the dangerous situation thus obtaining.

The predicament of 18 Division was well-understood by the GHQ at Rawalpindi and, it was decided to pre-empt any Southern Command incursion by undertaking a most unexpected foray into Indian territory. A two-pronged offensive of brigade-strength each was hastily put together for the capture of Ramgarh and, for neutralising Jaisalmer Airfield – the latter, a rather quixotic task dictated by the absence of PAF in the area. It is also open to conjecture if the Pakistani GHQ had wishfully imagined the dislocation of Indian strategic reserves as a consequence of the daring 18 Division sortie. In the event, the offensive bogged down at Longewala soon after initiation on the midnight of 4 December. However, due to the boldness and surprise of the move, Indian 12 Division was knocked off-balance and remained mired in efforts to counter the Pakistani offensive, as well as screening the area for any more surprises. It could not progress beyond the initial capture of a desert outpost of Islamgarh and, failed to develop operations towards Rahim Yar Khan, which were charged with the ambitious objective of severing the rail-road link to northern Pakistan. There is also evidence of panic entraining of some elements of the crack Indian 1 Armoured Division for providing relief, a task that was quickly taken over by a detachment of six IAF Hunters belonging to No 122 Squadron stationed at Jaisalmer.

With no air opposition to menace them, the Hunters carried out text book strafing and rocketing attacks during the 38 sorties [1] flown over two days, in which they wreaked havoc on Pakistani tank columns caught in the open desert. By 7 December, Pakistani brigades were in full retreat, having suffered heavy losses, including at least 20 tanks [2] and scores of other vehicles destroyed or abandoned. At the end of the venture, Major General B M Mustafa, the ill-starred Commander of 18 Division, stood relieved of his command for an undertaking that went awry under his watch.

Costly Oversight

The rout of 18 Division armour at the hands of IAF has been conveniently blamed on GHQ for not forewarning AHQ about the offensive, as a result of which PAF fighters could not be positioned at the nearest airfield of Jacobabad. It has been claimed that AHQ had asked for at least four days notice (and preferably ten days) for activating the airfield with all the operational, logistic and air defence wherewithal. Intriguingly, the vital issue of air support that may have been required by an army formation even if it was not undertaking offensive operations, has been glossed over by air tacticians and official historians alike. This requirement should also have been seen as enormously vital in view of the vulnerability of Rahim Yar Khan rail-road link, whose proximity to the border could result in effortless severance by the enemy, thus practically truncating West Pakistan into two. Air cover was equally crucial due to the overwhelming numerical superiority of Indian Southern Command which was comprehensively supported by fighters stationed at Jaisalmer, Uttarlai, Jodhpur and Jamnagar. The PAF C-in-C, Air Marshal A Rahim Khan, who was accompanying the COAS General Abdul Hamid during a visit to Rahim Yar Khan in October, must not have failed to notice the utter vulnerability of 18 Division elements to air attack. A suitable complement of fighters should, therefore, have figured out for deployment at Jacobabad from the onset of war, irrespective of the offensive or defensive operations 18 Division may have been tasked for.

In a talk to National Defence College some time after the war, PAF's Director of Operations, the late Group Captain M Arshad, reiterated PAF’s viewpoint that, “with the limited resources available at our disposal, it was not feasible to activate Jacobabad without thinning out in the northern sector.” While the plight of the resource-constrained PAF was well-highlighted, it can be pointed out that the half-squadron detachment of F-6s (belonging to No 25 Squadron) at Mianwali could have been relieved, as the base which is sufficiently deep, was well-defended by two successive tiers of over 60 interceptors based at Risalewala and Sargodha; it also had its own integral force of five-odd Mirage IIIE for point defence. It must also be noted that the Mianwali-based F-6s were too far removed from the battle scene in the northern sector and, could not be employed in their proper tactical air support role. Half a squadron of F-6s based at Jacobabad could have, if nothing else, at least mitigated the painful and odious withdrawal of 18 Division elements by providing them much needed air cover.

It is another matter that 18 Division offensive had been planned hastily, had not been war-gamed and, the logistics requirements had been treated most superficially. It was easy to see why it floundered as it did. Even though some diehard strategists make much of the initial advantage of surprise, it must be realised that, had the overstretched Pakistani force somehow reached its objective at Ramgarh, it would have been eventually destroyed by a realigned 12 Division charging in from the left flank.

Despite the battering that it took at Longewala, it can be said that 18 Division’s venture, foolhardy though it was, did not go in vain and, it was somehow able to prevent a befuddled 12 Division Commander, Major General R K Khambata, from achieving his main task of truncating West Pakistan. The Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War succinctly sums up 12 Division’s disappointment thus: “Had it detected the Pak thrust on 4 December, the Division could have met and dissipated it, and gone ahead with its offensive as originally planned [3].”

Action at Chor

Further south, Indian 11 Division was tasked to capture Naya Chor by launching an offensive along Monabao-Khokhrapar-Naya Chor axis with the help of two brigades and, subsequently to develop operations into the green belt of Sindh. Additionally, the division’s third brigade was to outflank and capture Chachro along the Gadra-Khinsar-Chachro axis. Apparently no link-up of the two widely divergent incursions was planned and, neither complemented the other. The Indians had envisaged that a threat to towns like Mirpurkhas and Umarkot would force Pakistan’s II Corps to detach its elements for the assistance of 18 Division’s single brigade in this sector, thus depleting the former’s offensive potential.

As the two Indian brigades advanced towards Naya Chor on the night of 4 December, they met little resistance at first. The disrupted rail link between Monabao and Khokhrapar was repaired and, it was hoped that a regular logistics supply chain would hasten progress of the onslaught. The rail connection, which had been in disuse for years, had many more snags than expected. The vulnerable rail link proved to be the very bane of the Indian brigades as Pakistan Air Force swung into action and started a concerted day and night interdiction campaign that precipitated the ‘overstretch’ which the Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War much bemoans [4].

Half the fighter and bomber force of No 32 Fighter Attack Wing, based at Masroor (Karachi) had been detached to bases in the north. What remained included No 19 Squadron with 26 F-86E/F, [5] No 9 Squadron with 7 F-104 (9 more RJAF F-104 became available from 14 December onwards) and half-strength No 7 Squadron with 8 B-57 bombers. The intrepid No 2 Squadron chipped in with 11 T-33 trainers. A small detachment of 4 F-86E was stationed at the forward base of Talhar, to promptly respond to the first-tier mobile observer reports in the absence of low level radar warning.

The rapid Indian push towards Naya Chor had all the portends of a grave situation developing and, immediate air support had to be provided to ward off the threat. The Base Commander at Masroor, Air Commodore Nazir Latif, along with the OC of No 32 Wing, Group Captain Wiqar Azim responded swiftly and decided to throw in everything the Base could muster. Composite missions, including different types of aircraft, were ingeniously flown. The OC Wing and two of his Squadron Commanders, Wing Commander Shaikh Saleem (No 19 Squadron) and Wing Commander Asghar Randhawa (No 2 Squadron) were at the forefront of this air action and led many missions themselves. Many interdiction and armed reconnaissance missions targeted trains laden with fuel and ammunition along the Khokhrapar-Naya Chor railway line. Tanks and vehicles exposed in the open also turned out to be lucrative targets and, in the surprising absence of air opposition, multiple attacks were carried out without much trouble.

One daring mission involving the only daylight B-57 sortie of the war, manifestly inspired the pilots of the Wing to fight fearlessly. On 7 December, Flight Lieutenant Shabbir A Khan, alongwith his navigator Squadron Leader Shoaib Alam, carried out an afternoon bombing raid (9x500-lb bombs) on a concentration of tanks and vehicles and followed it up with several strafing passes on a stationary train. Such was the fervour that Shabbir spent nearly twenty minutes taking steady pot shots, as if on a training sortie at his home firing range.

The same night Wing Commander Randhawa bombed an important POL bulk supply node that served the theatre of operations, while flying in a T-33. “The oil tanks at Barmer railway station were hit and set on fire,” reports the Indian Official History of 1971 Indo-Pak War [6].

Another remarkable mission involved a motley of aircraft flown by No 32 Wing and, it was boldly led by its enthusiastic OC, Group Captain Wiqar Azim. On the afternoon of 14 December, a 9-ship composite formation of 4 F-86Fs and 4 T-33s, escorted by a lone F-86E and, covered on top by 2 F-104s, struck three trains laden with POL and explosives near Naya Chor. In the same mission, a convoy was struck and many vehicles destroyed.

In all, 175 sorties (including 24 night sorties by B-57, T-33 and even C-130) were flown in support of 18 Division in Chor, Ramgarh and Kutch Sectors; this formed one quarter of the total air support effort provided by PAF during the war [7]. In addition, 40 combat air patrol sorties were flown by F-86E and F-104 to cover the vital troop and armour reinforcements arriving by train from the central zone to Naya Chor. The inability of the IAF to interfere with the reinforcements only underscores the effectiveness of PAF’s air umbrella.

Unlike the PAF’s air support in the northern battle zones, where as many as one-third of the air support sorties were unsuccessful (mainly because the enemy tanks and vehicles could not be sighted in the natural camouflage of Punjab), the success rate in Thar was nearly 100% as the desert offered the enemy no sanctuary. A total of 20 tanks, 63 vehicles, 5 trains, 3 bulk fuel stores and an ammunition dump were claimed by the pilots, according to PAF’s official history [8]. During the course of the tactical air support campaign by the PAF, no aircraft were lost to ground fire. IAF, however, lost three Uttarlai-based HF-24s to vigilant Pak Army AAA while on air support missions in Naya Chor area [9].

It is evident that the PAF was able to operate with such impunity in Naya Chor Sector because IAF planners had not paid heed to countering it in earnest, both on the ground and in the air. An incessantly disruptive anti-airfield campaign against the single Base at Masroor, alongwith aggressive fighter sweeps in Naya Chor area, could have helped. After all, IAF had four fighter bases which directly served the Southern Sector and, there was no dearth of air effort. Had IAF’s counter-air campaign been more whole-hearted, Major General R D Anand, Commander 11 Division, may well have been planning his next moves from the district headquarters at Mirpurkhas!

Own Offensive Foreclosed

The third Indian brigade which had Chachro as its objective, was able to overcome minor resistance at various points on the way and managed to capture it by afternoon of 8 December. Later, on 13 December a battalion-sized foray towards Umarkot was launched from Chachro, but was beaten back by a Pakistani counter-attack. The Indian raid did, however, raise concerns at GHQ in Rawalpindi as the ‘green belt’ had been trespassed, as it were. So as not to distract 55 Brigade which was putting up a brave stand at Naya Chor and, to provide it with much-needed relief, it was decided to bolster it with a brigade pulled out from II Corps’ 33 Infantry Division. 55 Brigade and the newly-arrived 60 Brigade, with zealous air support from PAF’s No 32 Wing, were thus able to repel renewed Indian efforts to push forward towards Naya Chor.

Earlier, another of 33 Division’s brigade had been detached to I Corps in Shakargarh, where the ground situation was equally grim. This all but meant that General Tikka Khan’s offensive stood aborted. II Corps, which had been somehow hoping for an improvement in the relative strength ratio of forces, actually found itself denuded to the point of impracticality as far as launching its offensive was concerned.

Though vast stretches of desert amounting to over 1,740 square miles were captured by 11 Division in Naya Chor and Chachro sub-sectors, it is of academic interest to know that the Indian Division Commander was still denied his operational objective. As stated earlier, the significance of Pakistani forces being able to hold on to Naya Chor lay in the enemy being denied a foothold for developing operations deeper, into the core areas of Sindh. This apparently came at the cost of Pakistan’s main offensive, but in retrospect, it can be clearly seen that II Corps’ elements had a ‘fire-fighting’ role chalked out from the outset and, the much talked about offensive was rather delusory in its strategic conception.

___________________

[1] ‘Tank Busting in the Hunter’, Air Commodore Narendra Gupta, Take Off magazine, Issue 103. [2] The late Brigadier Zahir Alam, who commanded 38 Cavalry Regiment during the operation, confirms the loss of 20 tanks, all to air action. He gives a blow-by-blow account of the fiasco in his book The Way it Was, Dynavis (Pvt) Ltd, Karachi, 1998.[3] Chapter – IX, The Punjab and Rajasthan Front, page 395.[4] Ibid, page 406.

[5] These included 12 F-86F which were attached to the squadron three months prior to the war.[6] Chapter – X, The IAF in the West, page 427.[7] Of the total 175 sorties, 158 were flown in Chor Sector, 13 were flown in Ramgarh Sector and 4 sorties were flown in Kutch Sector. Official PAF Records.[8] The Story of Pakistan Air Force – A Saga of Courage and Honour, page 464.

[9] Flt Lt P V Apte, 220 Sqn, shot down on 4 Dec (KIA); Flt Lt J L Bhargava, 220 Sqn, shot down 5 Dec (POW); Flt Lt A V Kamat, 10 Sqn, shot down 9 Dec (POW).
© M KAISER TUFAIL

This article was published in Defence Journal, September-October 2009 issue.

Mirages at War

2009-05-07T08:29:00.056+06:00

"Enemy pilots should see it, but never catch up with it.” [MARCEL DASSAULT]

At the outbreak of the 1971 Indo-Pak War, Mirage IIIEs were the newest and most advanced combat aircraft in the PAF inventory. Besides performing a wider variety of missions, they could generate a higher daily sortie rate compared to the aging F-86s, F-104s and B-57s. They could navigate accurately to relatively deeper targets and, after the attack, egress at high speed. They could carry out straight line, hit-and-run intercepts against raiders as adeptly as the F-104s, though the radar performance of both fighters was suspect against low-flying targets in ground clutter. Coupled with marginal performance of the five-odd low level AR-1 air defence radars which were interspersed with yawning gaps, PAF’s intercept capability was of consequence during day only; at night-time, it was a chance in a million, as it were. Surface attack weaponry of the Mirage was not yet commensurate with the more capable platform that it was. PAF relied on the old vintage Mk-117 (750-lbs) high explosive bombs delivered from critical dive angles. Specialist anti-runway weapons had not been not been marketed by the French as yet. Air-to-air weapons included first generation AIM-9B Sidewinder heat-seeking missiles, whose two-degree wide field of view allowed only dead line astern attacks against backgrounds free of extraneous heat sources. Employment of the semi-active radar-guided Matra R-530 missile was found to be impractical in combat situations due to its stringent launch parameters and very short range, particularly at low level, where most of the interceptions were expected. It never saw operational use other than, what amounted to virtual jettisoning in one combat situation. High expectations from these modern Mirages were also tempered by the stark reality of having just one squadron to fulfil the myriad tasks. 23 Mirages – one aircraft had been lost earlier in a flying accident – were a meagre 8% of the 276 combat aircraft available at the outbreak of war. How the PAF would dovetail its much vaunted front-line element into the military’s overall strategic reckoning had to be carefully articulated in its concept of air operations.

Strategic Compulsion

Cognizant of the improbability of successfully holding its eastern wing against a determined Indian onslaught and a vigorous insurgency, Pakistani military planners came to be grounded in the conviction that ‘defence of the East lies in the West’. In practical terms, this aphorism meant that Pakistan would launch a major offensive into India from the western wing at the outset of any conflict. By threatening vital Indian assets in Kashmir and the Punjab, the Pakistan Army planners hoped to draw Indian forces away from the east and, gain enough time for outside powers to restrain an unmistakably rampant India. Additionally, any territory seized in the west could be offered as a sop to the countrymen for losses in East Pakistan. PAF’s concept of operations gave over-riding priority to supporting the Army’s proposed offensive. Air cover was sought to be established over the Army’s deep thrust till such time that it had dug in and established its own defences. It was also felt necessary to attack 4-5 Indian airfields that directly threatened the offensive once it was underway. To prevent timely arrival of logistic reinforcements, PAF was to interdict supplies directly serving the Indian forces; this meant attacking rail yards and other supply nodes soon after start of the offensive. Until the army’s offensive was launched, limited close air support during holding operations was to be provided. Tactical recce was to be conducted regularly to determine the changing disposition of enemy formations. Finally, PAF was to maintain pressure on the IAF with sustained disruptive strikes against some of its forward and rear bases, to accrue a measure of psychological ascendancy in the conduct of air operations. From PAF’s standpoint, it was easy to see that the modern Mirages were the weapon of choice for operations during the critical land battle planned for the western theatre. Yet, far from singling out these vital assets for the critical stage of the war only, it was boldly decided to employ them to the hilt in all phases. The bulk of No 5 Squadron was deployed at its parent Base, Sargodha, under command of Wg Cdr Hakimullah, formerly an old hand on the F-104s. A detachment of six aircraft, led by Sqn Ldr Farooq F Khan, was moved to the deeper located satellite Base of Mianwali to provide redundancy in the night intercept role and, also as a back-up strike element for the all-important land offensive. Mirages were thus poised to be at the forefront of PAF’s ‘coup de main’.

Softening Up

Contrary to the general perception, PAF’s dusk strikes of 3 December against some of the forward Indian airfields were not pre-emptory at all, as the Indian invasion of East Pakistan had already taken place in earnest, on 21 November. While these strikes were, of course, aimed at cratering runways and destroying radars, they also had an intrinsic ‘provocative’ element which the PAF planned to cleverly exploit through its well-prepared air defences, when IAF retaliated the following morning. Mirages got a small share of 8 airfield strike sorties in the opening round of the counter-air operations campaign that also included 24 airfield strikes by F-86s and 4 radar strikes by F-104s. Wg Cdr Hakimullah led a flight of 4 Mirages to Amritsar, while his flight commander, Sqn Ldr Aftab Alam, led another flight of 4 Mirages to Pathankot. Heading east into fast-fading light, Wg Cdr Hakimullah was able to take a cue from Amritsar runway lights, which were inexplicably glimmering when it should have been a complete black-out. His formation pulled up for a dive attack to deliver two 750-lb bombs each. Except for No 4, whose bombs did not release due to some malfunction, the rest were able to put in the attacks in the beginning of the runway. Sqn Ldr Aftab Alam’s formation did not have the good fortune of catching Pathankot with its lights on and could not execute a proper attack in the evening haze and low light. The bombs fell in the general vicinity of the airfield. Given the very short distance from the border, IAF was unable to scramble interceptors from the ground, so standing patrols should have been a sensible option. With no interceptors, all raiding aircraft came back unscathed. The disruptive raids were continued into the night by the B-57s. The missed strike at Pathankot was repeated by Sqn Ldr Aftab Alam’s formation the next afternoon. This time, all the bombs found their mark on the runway and taxi track. As they were exiting after delivering the attack, Nos 3 and 4 found a Gnat closing in behind them, with guns blazing. Thanks to their swift Mirages, they were easily able to get out of harm’s way. Mirages continued with the airfield strikes, flying for five more days. A mission each was flown on 5, 6, 8, 9 and 10 December. Awantipura airfield was added to the usual list of Amritsar and Pathankot. Wg Cdr Hakimullah, alongwith attached senior squadron pilots, Sqn Ldr Rao Akhtar and Sqn Ldr Arif Manzoor alternated as mission leaders for these subsequent strikes. With the threat of enemy interceptors increasing, it was decided to add a pair of escorts during the airfield strikes. Altogether, 38 strike sorties (including 8 escorts) were flown by Mirages against three forward airfields. This was almost one-fourth of the total daytime counter-air effort of 158 sorties flown by the PAF. As stated earlier, these airfield strikes were largely disruptive in nature and served the purpose of softening up, before the actual neutralisation that was to come later with the army’s offensive. Seen in that context, they do not seem measly in quantum, though where they fell short was in the ‘punch’. There is no reason to doubt the IAF assessment of the effects as “negligible/slight damage.” The runways were never out of operation for more than a few hours. The damage could have been longer lasting if special runway penetrating ordnance had been used, as the Israeli Air Force had done in 1967. Non-availability of such weapons led the PAF to resort to conventional iron bombs which would bounce off the runway and explode above the surface, causing more blast and less breach. Also, delivery from shallow dive angles to avoid exposure to Anti Aircraft Artillery (AAA) made the bombs skip off the surface even farther. The disruptive raids seem well worth the effort, however, considering that operational and maintenance activity on IAF forward bases was hampered, and no PAF aircraft was lost while conducting these very dangerous missions. On a few occasions when enemy interceptors managed to get behind an odd Mirage, the latter was able to outpace them, much like Dassault had imagined in his desert vision of a mirage whereby, “enemy pilots should see it but never catch up with it!”

Defending the Skies

Despite a biggish nose which housed a sizeable antenna promising long range pick-up at higher altitudes, the Cyrano II radar of the Mirage lacked the ability to distinguish low flying targets against ground clutter. This drawback rendered the Mirage completely dependent on ground-controlled interception at low level, much like its spares-stricken counterpart, the F-104. PAF’s five low level ground radars could cover just 7% of the eastern border of West Pakistan and were, therefore, deployed at the main bases and a few vulnerable approaches only. Air defence was, thus, largely a function of Combat Air Patrols (CAPs) being able to respond to chance pick-up of low flying targets by ground radars. Once vectored on to its target by ground control, the Mirage could accelerate fast enough to chase an intruder for whom there was little hope of escape. The test of the Mirage’s capabilities as an interceptor came on the night of 4 December, when Flt Lt Naeem Atta was scrambled from Mianwali. The ground controller, Flt Lt Khalid Kashmiri, vectored Atta on to an intruder heading west, towards Mianwali. The controller was able to position the Mirage three miles astern of the low flying target, but in a pitch dark night, there was no prospect of visual contact. As the Salt Range loomed ahead, the target started climbing to avoid the hilly terrain. Fortuitously for Atta, this meant that the target was also easing out of ground clutter and there was a good probability that it would be ‘painted’ by the Cyrano radar. Unknown to Atta, his radar had been in standby mode, as he had not been careful in selecting his switches in a hurry. On the radar controller's reminder, Atta rechecked the selection to transmit mode, and was soon able to report a blip on his radar scope at an optimum IR-missile shooting distance of one-and-a-half mile, dead tail-on. Following radar lock-on, the missile’s seeker head swung to the heat source and, a growl in Atta’s earphones confirmed a launch-ready condition; the intruder’s fate was sealed. Moments after launching the AIM-9B Sidewinder, Atta saw a huge fireball silhouetting an aircraft in the night sky. Next morning, the wreckage of a Canberra (IF 916) was confirmed at the village of Nara located at the western edge of the Salt Range, not too far from Khushab town. The aircrew, including the pilot Flt Lt Lloyd Sasoon and navigator Flt Lt Ram Advani, belonging to the Agra-based Jet Bomber Conversion Unit, were killed on impact. [1]

Not far from Mianwali is Sakesar, a small PAF Base perched on the picturesque Salt Range at an elevation of 5,000 feet. The Base housed a high-powered FPS-20 radar as well as the vital Sector Operations Centre – North. At mid-day on 5 December, the IAF had made an attempt at attacking the radar, which cost it dearly, as two Hunters were shot down by a patrolling pair of F-6s. Later that afternoon, a lone intrepid Hunter was able to sneak in for a successful rocketing attack. After the attack a clean getaway for a singleton, right under the noses of patrolling interceptors, was an improbable prospect. As expected, the Hunter was intercepted by two Mirages scrambled from Mianwali. The pair was led by Flt Lt Safdar Mahmood, with Flg Off Sohail Hameed as his wingman. Diving down from the hills, the Hunter had built up speed, but not enough to elude the far swifter Mirages. With the help of instructions from the ground controller Flt Lt Shaukat Jamil, Safdar was able to catch up and settle behind the Hunter, to start his shooting drill. A couple of well-placed bursts of the 30-mm cannon got the Hunter smoking. As Safdar held off while watching his quarry in its last throes, Sohail picked up the smouldering aircraft and let off a Sidewinder missile to finish it off. Just before the aircraft impacted the ground, the pilot ejected but it was too late. Sqn Ldr Jal Mistry of No 20 Squadron was found fatally injured. The wreckage of the Hunter (A 1014) was strewn near the small town of Kattha Saghral.

Chamb was one of the few sectors where Pak Army had made significant advances and the Indian XV Corps desperately sought destruction of heavy guns that had been reported in the area. On 6 December, a pair of Su-7s from Adampur-based No 101 Sqn was tasked to locate and destroy the guns. The Su-7s sought out what appeared like hutments concealing the artillery pieces and were rocketing the place. Flt Lt Salimuddin Awan and his wingman Flt Lt Riazuddin Shaikh, who were patrolling in their Mirages over Gujranwala-Sheikhupura area, were vectored by ground radar onto the two Su-7s. Salimuddin, who was carrying a R-530 radar-guided missile alongwith two Sidewinders, decided to get rid of the bulky weapon by just blindly firing it off, so as to lighten up for the chase. Spotting the Mirages, the Su-7s jettisoned their drop tanks and rocket pods and started exiting east. With the Su-7s doing full speed, a long chase ensued till Riazuddin found himself close enough to fire a missile, but it went straight into the ground. Salimuddin then moved in and, on hearing the lock-on growl, pressed the missile launch button, not once but twice, to be sure. Two Sidewinder missiles shot off from the rails and, moments later, Riazuddin called out that one of the Su-7s had been hit. Salimuddin instantly switched to the other Su-7 and fired his 30-mm cannon. Just then, Salimuddin noted the outlines of Madhopur Headworks near Pathankot, which was not surprising, as they had been chasing the Su-7s for several minutes inside enemy territory, along the Jammu-Kathua Road. Recollecting themselves, the Mirages turned back and recovered at Sargodha with precariously low fuel. Monitoring of VHF radio confirmed a message transmitted to Adampur that an Su-7 had been “fired at … the pilot ejected”. It was later learnt that the wingman, Flt Lt Vijay Wahi had succumbed to his ejection injuries. The leader, Sqn Ldr Ashok Shinde, was lucky to bring back his Su-7 which had been damaged by bullet hits. High-speed pursuit was a forte of the Mirage, a lesson learnt by the IAF the hard way and, one time too late. Mirages flew a total of 317 air defence sorties (221 during day, 96 at night) which was 18% of the overall air defence effort. [2] With three IAF aircraft shot down, the Mirage kill rate, based on the total air defence sorties flown, came to be .95%. This compares quite favourably with kill rates of other PAF fighters which performed air defence missions: F-86F -1.2%, F-86E -1.1% and F-6 - 0.74%.

Scouting the Troops

PAF had three Mirage IIIRs, which were equipped with five OMERA Type 31 optical cameras mounted in the nose. With a Doppler navigation radar available, getting to a destination was fairly easy. Magnesium flares provided enough illumination at night to confer a round-the-clock tactical reconnaissance capability. The number of aircraft was, however, on the low side and did not sufficiently cater for unserviceabilities. A month prior to the outbreak of all-out war, the PAF had started to fly cross-border photo recce sorties, some of which were in the vital Chamb Sector, where the Pak Army’s 23 Division had planned a secondary ‘diversionary’ offensive. With the disposition of forces well-known, the attack resulted in significant advances that threatened India’s overland links to Kashmir, besides depriving Indian forces from establishing a launch pad for offensive operations towards the vital lines of communication passing through nearby Gujrat. Early in the war, another important breakthrough came in the Suleimanki-Fazilka Sector, where 105 Independent Infantry Brigade (IV Corps) was able to surprise the Indian ‘Foxtrot’ Force and, made a firm foothold in the area of Pak II Corps’ planned main offensive. While the Indian forces desperately carried out repeated counter attacks, PAF Mirages conducted regular photo recce missions in Ferozepur area to update the ground commanders about Indian reinforcement efforts aimed at vacating the incursion. In the event, a badly demoralised and confused Foxtrot Force could not make any headway and the Pakistani brigade was able to safeguard the vital Suleimanki Headworks, which was only a mile from the border. In preparation for the main offensive, PAF Mirages fervently conducted photo recce missions along Ferozepur-Kot Kapura, Ferozepur-Fazilka and Fazilka-Muktasar railway networks, as well as in general areas of Ferozepur and Sri Ganganagar, for the latest disposition of forces. An important mission involved recce of crossing points over Gang Canal for a careful scrutiny of obstacles across the waterway that could possibly impede the movement of II Corps. The main offensive could, however, not materialise as explained later, and most of the photo recce effort was rendered worthless. Two pilots who played a sterling role in the photo recce operations were the squadron’s ‘slide rule wizards’, Sqn Ldr Farooq Umar and Flt Lt Najib Akhtar. Of the 30 photo recce sorties (besides 15 escorts) flown by No 5 Squadron before and during the war, 22 were considered successful. [3] Although most of the singleton recce Mirages were escorted by another Mirage, yet some of the missions had to be aborted due to intense enemy air activity. In Shakargarh Sector, a few night recce missions were attempted with partial success. In one such mission on the night of 11 December, an IAF MiG-21 scrambled to intercept a Mirage flown by Sqn Ldr Farooq Umar, ended up shooting down one of its own MiG-21s flown by Flt Lt A B Dhavle, which was patrolling in the vicinity. Four-odd Bomb Damage Assessment missions were also flown following the initial strikes on runways. These helped in better planning of subsequent airfield strike missions.

Interdiction of Supplies

One of the hugely successful missions of the war was an attack on Mukerian Railway Station. On 15 December, Wg Cdr Hakimullah was tasked to lead a four-ship mission to attack Bhangala Railway Station on Jalandhar-Pathankot railway line. After pulling up for the attack, he was dismayed to discover that there was no rolling stock in sight, but he decided to try his luck further south along the railway line. Having flown a mere 30 seconds, he overflew Mukerian Railway Station which was bustling with trains. Peeling off into the attack pattern, the four Mirages set themselves for single-pass dive attacks with two 750-lb bombs each. According to Hakimullah’s estimate, there were at least 100 freight bogies latched to different trains berthed adjacent to each other. The Mirages released their bombs one by one though No 4, who had hung ordnance, pulled off dry. The impact of the bombs on fuel and ammunition laden trains was so furious that the blasts shook the aircraft; No 2’s drop tanks sheared off with the shock wave but he was able to fly back without any further damage. The Mirages had so far been striking at shallow targets, but with the time for the main offensive running out, it was decided to use them more audaciously. It was ironic that one of the most significant interdiction missions was also the one and only flown by Mirages, before the curtain fell two days later.

Drop Scene

Pakistan Army’s plan in the west called for the beginning of offensive operations five or six days after an Indian attack in the east. These, however, were meant to be secondary operations, essentially distractions, designed to fix the enemy and to divert his attention away from the intended site of the main attack by II Corps. With one armoured and two infantry divisions, II Corps was to strike into India from the Bahawalnagar area approximately three days after the secondary attacks. II Corps was to drive east to cross the international border, before turning to the northeast to push for Bhatinda and wishfully, beyond. It was expected that most of India’s armoured reserves would have become embroiled in Pakistan’s defences in the Shakargarh salient during this three-day interval between the secondary attacks and the main effort. After much prodding by the Army’s field formation commanders as well as the PAF C-in-C, the vacillating GHQ reluctantly issued orders for II Corps to shift to its forward assembly areas on 14 December; elements of 1 Armoured Division began to move the following day. By this time, however, the other major component of II Corps ie, 33 Division, had already been detached to reinforce the beleaguered I Corps in the north and 18 Division in the south, where things were not going well for the Pakistan Army. As a consequence, II Corps was deprived of almost one third of its striking power before the offensive had even begun. On the evening of 16 December, however, new instructions arrived from GHQ, “freezing all movements” until further notice. Following capitulation of forces in the Eastern Wing, Pakistan accepted a cease fire on 17 December. Mirages – which were expected to reduce the IAF’s weight of attack by neutralising 4-5 IAF airfields once the main offensive was underway – could, thus, not be utilised for the critical task that had been meticulously planned for months.

Report Card

During the 14-day war, Mirages flew a total of 395 sorties which was 13% of PAF’s overall war effort of 2,929 sorties. [5] For a relatively new and modern weapon system, the the Mirage could have achieved an aircraft Utilisation Rate better than the 1.6 sorties per aircraft per day during the war. [4] While it fell short of the planned 2.2 daily sorties, it reflected a cautious conduct of the war whereby the PAF was held back, so that everything could be thrown in during the army’s main offensive which, in the event, never came through. Wg Cdr Hakimullah, who very ably commanded the Mirage squadron during the war and, also led several dangerous missions in enemy territory, was awarded the Sitara-i-Jur’at (Star of Valour). That coveted award also went to Sqn Ldr Farooq Umar, the senior flight commander of the squadron, who had flown many useful photo recce missions in enemy areas infested with patrolling fighters. The three pilots who shot down IAF aircraft were content with having joined the elite club of fighter pilots with aerial kills. A month after the war, the PAF was able to line up 22 Mirages for all to see on the tarmac at Sargodha, while the 23rd Mirage was under maintenance in a hangar.[6] The impressive sight belied claims of any losses that had been incurred by the Mirage fleet during the war.

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[1] The Canberra's 'Orange Putter' tail warning radar (an active device) was prone to picking up ground clutter and, was usually turned off by the pilots at lower altitudes. It is likely that Sasoon had also turned it off, to avoid false alarms that would have been triggered over the hilly terrain.

[2] Official PAF Records.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Utilisation Rate is based on an average aircraft serviceability of 75%. The Mirage-III wartime UR is calculated thus: UR = 395 sorties ÷ 17 aircraft ÷ 14 days = 1.6.

[6] A picture of the lined-up Mirages appeared in Air Enthusiast, May 1972 issue.

This article was published in Defence Journal, May 2009 issue and, Shaheen - Journal of the Pakistan Air Force, Vol 60.

Kargil Conflict and Pakistan Air Force

2009-01-28T15:25:00.041+05:00

Pakistani writings on Kargil conflict have been few; those that did come out were largely irrelevant and in a few cases, were clearly sponsored. The role of the PAF has been discussed off and on, but mostly disparagingly, particularly in some uninformed quarters. Here is an airman’s perspective, focusing on the IAF’s air operations and the PAF’s position.

Operational Planning in the PAF

Since an important portion of this write-up pertains to the PAF’s appreciation of the situation and the decision-making loop during the Kargil conflict, we will start with a brief primer on PAF’s hierarchy and how operational matters are handled at the Air Headquarters.

The policy-making elements at Air Headquarters consist of four-tiers of staff officers. The top-most tier is made up of the Deputy Chiefs of Air Staff (DCAS) who are the Principal Staff Officers (PSOs) of their respective branches and are nominally headed by the Vice Chief of Air Staff (VCAS). They (along with Air Officers Commanding, the senior representatives from field formations) are members of the Air Board, PAF’s ‘corporate’ decision-making body which is chaired by the Chief of the Air Staff (CAS). The next tier is made up of Assistant Chiefs of Air Staff (ACAS) who head various sub-branches and, along with the third-tier Directors, assist the PSOs in policy-making; they are not on the Air Board, but can be called for hearings and presentations in the Board meetings, as required. A fourth tier of Deputy Directors does most of the sundry staff work in this policy-making hierarchy.

The Operations & Plans branch is the key player in any war, conflict or contingency and is responsible for threat assessment and formulation of a suitable response. During peace-time, war plans are drawn up by the Plans sub-branch and are then war-gamed in operational exercises run by the sister Operations sub-branch. Operational training is accordingly restructured and administered by the latter, based on the lessons of various exercises. This essentially is the gist of PAF’s operational preparedness methodology, the efficiency of which is amply reflected in its readiness and telling response in various wars and skirmishes in the past.

In early 1999, Air Chief Marshal Parvaiz Mehdi Qureshi was at the helm of the PAF. An officer with an imposing personality, he had won the Sword of Honour at the Academy. During the 1971 Indo-Pak War, as a young Flight Lieutenant, he was on a close support mission in erstwhile East Pakistan when his Sabre was shot down and he was taken POW. He determinedly resumed his fighter pilot’s career after repatriation and rose to command PAF’s premier Sargodha Base. He was later appointed as the AOC, Southern Air Command, an appointment that affords considerable interaction amongst the three services, especially in operational exercises. He also held the vitally important post of DCAS (Ops) as well as the VCAS before taking over as CAS.

The post of DCAS (Ops) was held by the late Air Marshal Zahid Anis. A well-qualified fighter pilot, he had a distinguished career in the PAF, having held some of the most sought-after appointments. These included command of No 38 Tactical Wing (F-16s), the elite Combat Commanders’ School and PAF Base, Sargodha. He was the AOC, Southern Air Command before his appointment as the head of the Operations branch at the Air Headquarters. He had done his Air War Course at the PAF’s Air War College, another War Course at the French War College as well as the prestigious Defence Studies course at the Royal College of Defence Studies in UK.

The ACAS (Ops) was Air Cdre Abid Rao, who had recently completed command of PAF Base, Mianwali. He had earlier done his War Course from the French War College.

The ACAS (Plans) was the late Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz, a brilliant officer who had made his mark at the Staff College at Bracknell, UK and during the War Course at the National Defence College, Islamabad.

There is no gainsaying the fact that PAF’s hierarchy was highly qualified and that each one of the players in the Operations branch had the requisite command and staff experience. The two top men had also fought in the 1971 Indo-Pak War, albeit as junior officers.

First Rumblings

As Director of Operations (in the rank of Gp Capt), my first opportunity to interact with the Army’s Director of Military Operations (DMO) was over a phone call, some time in March 1999. Brig Nadeem Ahmed called with great courtesy and requested some information that he needed for a paper exercise, as he told me. He wanted to know when had the PAF last carried out a deployment at Skardu, how many aircraft were deployed, etc. Rather impressed with the Army’s interest in PAF matters, I passed on the requisite details. The next day, Brig Nadeem called again, but this time his questions were more probing and he wanted some classified information including fuel storage capacity at Skardu, fighter sortie-generation capacity, radar coverage, etc. He insisted that he was preparing a briefing and wanted to get his facts and figures right, in front of his bosses. We got on a secure line and I passed on the required information. Although he made it sound like routine contingency planning, I sensed that something unusual was brewing. In the event, I thought it prudent to inform the DCAS (Ops). Just to be sure, he checked up with his counterpart, the Director General Military Operations (DGMO), Maj Gen Tauqir Zia, who said the same thing as his DMO and, assured that it was just part of routine contingency planning

Not withstanding the DGMO’s assurance, a cautious Air Marshal Zahid decided to check things for himself and despatched Gp Capt Tariq Ashraf, Officer Commanding of No 33 Wing at PAF Base, Kamra, to look things over at Skardu and make a report. Within a few days, Gp Capt Tariq (who was also the designated war-time commander of Skardu Base) had completed his visit, which included his own periodic war-readiness inspection. While he made a detailed report to the DCAS (Ops), he let me in on the Army’s mobilisation and other preparations that he had seen in Skardu. His analysis was that ‘something big is imminent.’ Helicopter flying activity was feverishly high as Army Aviation’s Mi-17s were busy moving artillery guns and ammunition to the mountain tops. Troops in battle gear were to be seen all over the city. Interestingly, Messes were abuzz with war chatter amongst young officers. In retrospect, one wonders how Indian intelligence agencies failed to read any such signs, many weeks before the operation unfolded.

After hearing Gp Capt Tariq’s report, Air Marshal Zahid again got in touch with Maj Gen Tauqir and, in a roundabout way, told him that if the Army’s ongoing ‘review of contingency plans’ required the PAF to be factored in, an Operations & Plans team would be available for discussion. Nothing was heard from the GHQ till 12 May, when Air Marshal Zahid was told to send a team for a briefing at HQ 10 Corps with regard to the ‘Kashmir Contingency’.

Air Cdre Abid Rao, Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz and myself were directed by the DCAS (Ops) to attend a briefing on the ‘latest situation in Kashmir’ at HQ 10 Corps. We were welcomed by the Chief of Staff (COS) of the Corps, who led us to the briefing room. Shortly thereafter, the Corps Commander, Lt Gen Mehmud Ahmad entered, cutting an impressive figure clad in a bush-coat and his trademark camouflage scarf. After exchanging pleasantries, the COS started with the map orientation briefing. Thereafter, Lt Gen Mehmud took over and broke the news that a limited operation had started two days earlier. It was nothing more than a ‘protective manoeuvre’, he explained, and was meant to foreclose any further mischief by the enemy, who had been a nuisance in the Neelum Valley, specially on the road on our side of the Line of Control (LOC). He then elaborated that a few vacant Indian posts had been occupied on peaks across the LOC, overlooking the Dras-Kargil Road. These would, in effect, serve the purpose of Airborne Observation Posts (AOP) meant for directing artillery fire with accuracy. Artillery firepower would be provided by a couple of field guns that had been heli-lifted to the heights, piecemeal, and re-assembled over the previous few months when the Indians had been off-guard during the winter extremes. The target was a vulnerable section of Dras-Kargil Road, whose blocking would virtually cut off the crucial life-line which carried the bulk of supplies needed for daily consumption as well as annual winter-stocking in Leh-Siachen Sector. He was very hopeful that this stratagem could choke off the Indians in the vital sector for up to a month, after which the monsoons would prevent vehicular movement (due to landslides) and, also suspend all airlift by the IAF. “Come October, we shall walk in to Siachen – to mop up the dead bodies of hundreds of Indians left hungry, out in the cold,” he succinctly summed up what appeared to be a new dimension to the Siachen dispute. It also seemed to serve, at least for the time being, the secondary aim of alleviating Indian military pressure on Pakistani lines of communications in the Neelum Valley that the Corps Commander had alluded to in his opening remarks. (The oft-heard strategic aim of ‘providing a fillip to the insurgency in Kashmir’ was never mentioned.)

When Lt Gen Mehmud asked for questions at the end of the rather crisp and to-the-point briefing, Air Cdre Saleem Nawaz opened up by inquiring about the type of air support that might be needed for the operation. Lt Gen Mehmud assured us that air support was not envisaged and that his forces could take care of enemy aircraft, if they intervened. “I have Stingers on every peak,” he announced. Air Cdre Saleem tried to point out the limited envelope of these types of missiles and said that nothing stopped the IAF from attacking the posts and artillery pieces from high altitude. To this, Lt Gen Mehmud’s reply was that his troops were well camouflaged and concealed and, that IAF pilots would not be able to pick out the posts from the air. As the discussion became more animated, I asked the Corps Commander if he was sure the Indians would not use their artillery to vacate our incursion, given the criticality of the situation from their standpoint. He replied that the Dras-Kargil stretch did not allow for positioning of the hundreds of guns that would be required, due to lack of depth; in any case, it would be suicidal for the Indians to denude artillery firepower from any other sector as defensive balance had to be maintained. He gave the example of the Kathua-Jammu Sector where the Indians had a compulsion to keep the bulk of their modern Bofors guns due to the vital road link’s vulnerability to our offensive elements.

It seemed from the Corps Commander’s smug appreciation of the situation that the Indians had been tightly straitjacketed in Dras-Kargil Sector and had no option but to submit to our operational design. More significantly, an alternate action like a strategic riposte by the Indians in another sector had been rendered out of question, given the nuclear environment. Whether resort to an exterior manoeuvre (diplomatic offensive) by the beleaguered Indians had crossed the planners’ minds, it was not discernable in the Corps Commander’s elucidation.

Perhaps it was the incredulousness of the whole thing that led Air Cdre Abid Rao to famously quip, “After this operation, it’s going to be either a Court Martial or Martial Law!” as we walked out of the briefing room.

Back at the Air Headquarters, we briefed the DCAS(Ops) about what had transpired at the 10 Corps briefing. His surprise at the developments, as well as his concern about the possibility of events spiralling out of control, could not remain concealed behind his otherwise unflappable demeanour. We all were also piqued at being left out of the Army’s planning, though we were given to believe that it was a ‘limited tactical action’ in which the PAF would not be required – an issue that none of us agreed with. Presented with a fait accompli, we decided not to lose any more time and, while the DCAS (Ops) went to brief the CAS about the situation, we set about gearing up for a hectic routine. The operations room was quickly updated with the latest large-scale maps and air recce photos of the area; communications links with concerned agencies were also revamped in a short time. Deployment orders were issued and, within the next 48 hours, the bulk of combat elements were in-situ at their war locations.

IAF – By Fits & Starts

The IAF deployments in Kashmir, for what came to be known as ‘Operation Safedsagar’, commenced on 15 May with the bulk of operational assets positioned by 18 May. 150 combat aircraft were deployed as follows:

> Srinagar - 34 (MiG-21, MiG-23, MiG-27)

> Awantipur - 28 (MiG-21, MiG-29, Jaguar)

> Udhampur - 12 (MiG-21)

> Pathankot - 30 (MiG-21, MiG-23)

> Adampur - 46 (Mir-2000, MiG-29, Jaguar)

One-third of the aircraft were modern, ‘high-threat’ fighters equipped with Beyond Visual Range (BVR) air-to-air missiles. During the preparatory stage, air defence alert status (5 minutes to scramble from ground) was maintained while Mirage-2000s and Jaguars carried out photo-reconnaissance along the Line of Control (LOC) and aging Canberras carried out electronic intelligence (ELINT) to ferret out locations of PAF air defence sensors. Last minute honing of strafing and rocketing skills was carried out by pilots at an air-to-ground firing range near Leh.

Operations by IAF started in earnest on 26 May, a full 16 days after commencement of Pakistani infiltration across the LOC. The salient feature of this initial phase was strafing and rocketing of the intruders’ positions by MiG-21, MiG-23BN and MiG-27. All operations (except air defence) came to a sudden standstill on 28 May, after two IAF fighters and a helicopter were lost – a MiG-21 and a Mi-17 to Pak Army surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), while a MiG-27 went down due to engine trouble caused by gun gas ingestion during high altitude strafing. (Incidentally, the pilot of the MiG-27 Flt Lt Nachiketa, who ejected and was apprehended, had a tête-à-tête with this author during an interesting ‘interrogation’ session.)

The results achieved by the IAF in the first two days were dismal. Serious restraints seem to have been imposed on the freedom of action of IAF fighters in what was basically a search-and-destroy mission. Lt Gen Mehmud’s rant about a ‘Stinger on every peak’ seemed true. It was obvious that the IAF had under-estimated the SAM threat. The mood in Pak Army circles was that of undiluted elation, and the PAF was expected to sit it out while sharing the khakis’ glee.

The IAF immediately went into a reappraisal mode and came out with GPS-assisted high altitude bombing by MiG-21, MiG-23BN and MiG-27 as a makeshift solution. In the meantime, quick modification on the Mirage-2000 for day/night laser bombing kits (Litening pods) was initiated with the help of Israelis. Conventional bombing that started incessantly after a two-day operational hiatus, was aimed at harassment and denial of respite to the infiltrators, with consequent adverse effects on morale. The results of this part of the campaign were largely insignificant, mainly because the target coordinates were not known accurately; the nature of the terrain too, precluded precision. A few cases of fratricide by IAF led it to be even more cautious.

By 16 June, IAF was able to open up the laser-guided bombing campaign with the help of Jaguars and Mirage-2000. Daily photo-recce along the LOC by Jaguars escorted by Mirage-2000s, which had continued from the beginning of operations, proved crucial to both the aerial bombing campaign as well as the Indian artillery, helping the latter in accurately shelling Pakistani positions in the Dras-Kargil and Gultari Sectors. While the photo-recce missions typically did not involve deliberate border violations, there were a total of 37 ‘technical violations’ (which emanate as a consequence of kinks and bends in the geographical boundaries). Typically, these averaged to a depth of five nautical miles, except on one occasion when the IAF fighters apparently cocked-a-snoot at the PAF and came in 13 miles deep.

The Mirage-2000s scored at least five successful laser-guided bomb hits on forward dumping sites and posts. During the last days of operations which ended on 12 July, it was clear that delivery accuracy had improved considerably. Even though night bombing accuracy was suspect, round-the-clock attacks had made retention of posts untenable for Pakistani infiltrators. Photo-recce of Pakistani artillery gun positions also made them vulnerable to Indian artillery.

The IAF flew a total of 550 strike missions against infiltrator positions including bunkers and supply depots. The coordinates of these locations were mostly picked up from about 150 reconnaissance and communications intelligence missions. In addition, 500 missions were flown for air defence and for escorting strike and recce missions.

While the Indians had been surprised by the infiltration in Kargil, the IAF mobilised and reacted rapidly as the Indian Army took time to position itself. Later, when the Indian Army had entrenched itself, the IAF supplemented and filled in where the artillery could not be positioned in force. Clearly, Army-Air joint operations had a synergistic effect in evicting the intruders.

PAF in a Bind

From the very beginning of Kargil operations, PAF was entrapped by a circumstantial absurdity: it was faced with the ludicrous predicament of having to provide air support to infiltrators already disowned by the Pakistan Army leadership! In any case, it took some effort to impress on the latter that crossing the LOC by fighters laden with bombs was not, by any stretch of imagination, akin to lobbing a few artillery shells to settle scores. There was no doubt in the minds of PAF Air Staff that the first cross-border attack (whether across LOC or the international border) would invite an immediate response from the IAF, possibly in the shape of a retaliatory strike against the home base of the intruding fighters, thus starting the first round. PAF’s intervention meant all-out war: this unmistakable conclusion was conveyed to the Prime Minister, Mr Nawaz Sharif, by the Air Chief in no equivocal terms.

Short of starting an all-out war, PAF looked at some saner options that could put some wind in the sails after doldrums had been hit. Air Marshal Najib Akhtar, the Air Officer Commanding of Air Defence Command was co-opted by the Air Staff to sift the possibilities. Audacious and innovative in equal parts, Air Marshal Najib had an excellent knowledge about our own and the enemy’s Air Defence Ground Environment (ADGE). He had conceived and overseen the unprecedented heli-lift of a low-looking radar to a 12,000-ft mountain top on the forbidding, snow-clad Deosai Plateau. The highly risky operation became possible with the help of some courageous flying by Army Aviation pilots. With good low level radar cover now available up to the LOC, Air Marshal Najib along with the Air Staff focused on fighter sweep (a mission flown to destroy patrolling enemy fighters) as a possible option.

To prevent the mission from being seen as an escalatory step in the already charged atmosphere, PAF had to lure Indian fighters into its own territory, ie Azad Kashmir or the Northern Areas. That done, a number of issues had to be tackled. What if the enemy aircraft were hit in our territory but fell across, providing a pretext to India as a doubly aggrieved party? What if one of our own aircraft fell, no matter if the exchange was one-to-one (or better)? Finally, even if we were able to pull off a surprise, would it not be a one-off incident, with the IAF becoming wiser in quick time? The over-arching consideration was the BVR missile capability of IAF fighters which impinged unfavourably on the mission success probability. The conclusion was that a replication of the famous four-Vampire rout of 1st September 1965 by two Sabres might not be possible. The idea of a fighter sweep thus fizzled out as quickly as it came up for discussion.

While the PAF looked at some offensive options, it had a more pressing defensive issue at hand. The IAF’s minor border violations during recce missions were not of grave consequence in so far as no bombing had taken place in our territory; however, the fact that these missions helped the enemy refine its air and artillery targeting, was, to say the least, disconcerting. There were constant reports of our troops on the LOC disturbed to see, or hear, IAF fighters operating with apparent impunity. The GHQ took the matter up with the AHQ and it was resolved that Combat Air Patrols (CAPs) would be flown by the F-16s operating out of Minhas (Kamra) and Sargodha. This arrangement resulted in less on-station time but was safer than operating out of vulnerable Skardu, which had inadequate early warning in the mountainous terrain; its status as a turn-around facility was, however, considered acceptable for its location. A flight of F-7s was, nonetheless, deployed primarily for point defence of the important garrison town of Skardu as well as the air base.

F-16 CAPs could not have been flown all day long as spares support was limited under the prevailing US sanctions. Random CAPs were resorted to, with a noticeable drop in border violations only as long as the F-16s were on station. There were a few cases of F-16s and Mirage-2000s locking their adversaries with the on-board radars but caution usually prevailed and no close encounters took place. After one week of CAPs, the F-16 maintenance personnel indicated that war reserve spares were being eaten into and that the activity had to be ‘rationalised’, a euphemism for discontinuing it altogether. That an impending war occupied the Air Staff’s minds was evident in the decision by the DCAS (Ops) for F-16 CAPs to be discontinued, unless IAF activity became unbearably provocative or threatening.

Those not aware of the gravity of the F-16 operability problem under sanctions have complained of the PAF’s lack of cooperation. Suffice it to say that if the PAF had been included in the initial planning, this anomaly (along with many others) would have emerged as a mitigating factor against the Kargil adventure. It is another matter that the Army high command did not envisage operations ever coming to such a pass. Now, it was almost as if the PAF was to blame for the Kargil venture spiralling out of control.

It also must be noted too that other than F-16s, the PAF did not have a capable enough fighter for patrolling, as the minimum requirement in this scenario was an on-board airborne intercept radar, exceptional agility and sufficient staying power. F-7s had reasonably good manoeuvrability but lacked an intercept radar as well as endurance, while the ground attack Mirage-III/5s and A-5s were sitting ducks for the air combat mission.

In sum, the PAF found it expedient not to worry too much about minor border violations and instead, conserve resources for the larger conflagration that was looming. All the same, it gave the enemy no pretext for retaliation in the face of any provocation, though this latter stance irked some quarters in the Army that were desperate to ‘equal the match’. Might it strike to some that PAF’s restraint in warding off a major conflagration may have been its paramount contribution to the Kargil conflict?

Aftermath

It has emerged that the principal protagonists of the Kargil adventure were General Pervez Musharraf: Chief of Army Staff, Lt Gen Mehmud Ahmed: Commander 10 Corps and, Maj Gen Javed Hasan: Commander Force Command Northern Areas. The trio, in previous ranks and appointments, had been associated with planning during paper exercises on how to wrest control of lost territory in Siachen. The plans were not acceptable to the then Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, to whom the options had been put up for review more than once. She was well-versed in international affairs and, all too intelligent to be taken in by the chicanery. It fell to the wisdom of her successor, Mr Nawaz Sharif, to approve the Army trio’s self-serving presentation.

In an effort to keep the plan secret, which was thought to be the key to its successful initiation, the Army trio took no one into confidence, neither its own operational commanders nor the heads of the other services. This, regrettably, resulted in a closed-loop thought process which engendered a string of oversights and failures:

Failure to grasp the wider military and diplomatic ramifications of a limited tactical operation that had the potential of creating major strategic effects.

Failure to correctly visualise the response of a powerful enemy to what was, in effect, a major blow in a disputed sector.

Failure to spell out the specific aim to field commanders, who acted on their own to needlessly capture territory and expand the scope of the operation to unmanageable levels.

Failure to appreciate the inability of the Army officers to evaluate the capabilities and limitations of an Air Force.

Failure to coordinate contingency plans at the tri-services level.

The flaws in the Kargil Plan that led to these failures were almost palpable and, could not have escaped even a layman’s attention during a cursory examination. The question arises as to why all the planners got blinded to the obvious? Could it be that some of the sub-ordinates had the sight but not the nerve in the face of a powerful superior? In hierarchical organisations, there is precious little room for dissent, but in autocratic ones like the military, it takes more than a spine to disagree, for there are very few commanders who are large enough to allow such liberties. It is out of fear of annoying the superior – which also carries with it manifold penalties and loss of promotion and perks – that the majority decide to go along with the wind.

In a country where democratic traditions have never been deep-rooted, it is no big exposé to point out that the military is steeped in an authoritarian, rather than a consensual approach. To my mind, there is an urgent need to inculcate a more liberal culture that accommodates different points of view – a more lateral approach, so to speak. Disagreement during planning should be systemically tolerated and, not taken as a personal affront. Unfortunately, many in higher ranks seem to think that rank alone confers wisdom and, anyone displaying signs of intelligence at an earlier stage is, somehow, an alien in their ‘star-spangled’ universe.

Kargil, I suspect, like the ‘65 and ‘71 Wars, was a case of not having enough dissenters (‘devil’s advocates’, if you will) during planning, because everyone wanted to agree with the boss. That single reason, I think, was the root cause of most of the failures that were apparent right from the beginning. If this point is understood well, remedial measures towards tolerance and liberalism can follow as a matter of course. Such an organisational milieu, based on honest appraisal and fearless appeal, would be conducive to sound and sensible planning. It would also go a long way in precluding Kargil-like disasters.

Tailpiece

Come change-over time of the Chief of Air Staff in 2001, President Musharraf struck at PAF’s top leadership in what can only be described as implacable action: he passed over all five Air Marshals and appointed the sixth-in-line who was practically an Air Vice Marshal till a few weeks before. While disregarding of seniority in the appointment of service chiefs has historically been endemic in the country, the practice has been seen as breeding nepotism and partiality, besides leaving a trail of conjecture and gossip in the ranks. Given Air Chief Marshal Mehdi’s rather straight-faced and forthright dealings with General Musharraf, particularly during Kargil conflict, there is good reason to believe that the latter decided to appoint a not-very-senior Air Chief whom he could order around like one of his Corps Commanders. (As it turned out, Air Chief Marshal Mus’haf was as solid as his predecessor and gave no quarter when it came to PAF’s interests.) Whatever the reason of bypassing seniority, it was unfortunate that PAF’s precious corporate experience was thrown out so crassly and several careers destroyed. Lives and honour lost in Kargil is another matter.

This article was published in Air Forces Monthly (UK) - June 2009 issue, under the title 'Himalayan Showdown'. The article was also published in Defence Journal (Pak), May 2009 issue.

Shahbaz Over Golan

2008-11-21T10:17:00.014+05:00

Post-haste summons for volunteers found an eager band of sixteen PAF fighter pilots on their way to the Middle East, in the midst of the 1973 Ramadan war. After a grueling Peshawar-Karachi-Baghdad flight on a PAF C-130, they were whisked off to Damascus by road. Upon arrival, half the batch was told to stay back in Syria while the rest were earmarked for Egypt. By the time the PAF batch reached Cairo, Egypt had agreed to a cease-fire; it was therefore decided that they would continue as instructors. But in Syria, it was another story.

The batch in Syria was made up of pilots who were already serving there on deputation (except one), but had been repatriated before the war. Now they were back in familiar surroundings as well as familiar aircraft, the venerable MiG-21. They were posted to No 67 Squadron, Alpha Detachment (all PAF). Hasty checkouts were immediately followed by serious business of Air Defence Alert scrambles and Combat Air Patrols from the air base at Dumayr near Damascus.

Syria had not agreed to a cease-fire, since Israeli operations in Golan were continuing at a threatening pace. Israeli Air Force missions included interdiction under top cover, well supported by intense radio jamming as the PAF pilots discovered. The PAF formation, using the call sign ‘Shahbaz,’ was formidable in size – all of eight aircraft. Shahbaz soon came to stand out as one that couldn't be messed with, in part because its tactics were innovative and bold. Survival, however, in a jammed-radio environment was concern number one. As a precaution, the Pakistanis decided to switch to Urdu for fear of being monitored in English. Suspicions were confirmed during one patrol, when healthy Punjabi invectives hurled on radio got them wondering if Mossad had recruited a few ‘Khalsas[1]’ for the job!

After several months of sporadic activity, it seemed that hostilities were petering out. While the Shahbaz patrols over Lebanon and Syria had diminished in frequency, routine training sorties started to register a rise. Under these conditions it was a surprise when on the afternoon of 26th April 1974, the siren blasted from the airshafts of the underground bunker. Backgammon boards were pushed aside and the coffee session was interrupted as all eight pilots rushed to their MiGs; they were airborne within minutes. From Dumayr to Beirut, then along the Mediterranean coast till Sidon, and a final leg eastwards, skirting Damascus and back to Base – this was the usual patrol, flown at an altitude of 20,000 ft. The limited fuel of their early model MiG-21F permitted just a 30-minute sortie; this was almost over when ground radar blurted out on the radio that two bogeys were approaching from the southerly direction ie, Israel. At this stage fuel was low and an engagement was the least preferred option. Presented with a fait accompli, the leader of the formation called a defensive turn into the bogeys. Just then heavy radio jamming started, sounding somewhat similar to the ‘takka tak[2]’ at our meat joints, only more shrill. While the formation was gathering itself after the turn, two Israeli F-4E Phantoms sped past almost head-on, seemingly unwilling to engage. Was it a bait?

Flt Lt Sattar Alvi, now the rear-most in the formation, was still adjusting after the hard turn when he caught sight of two Mirage-IIICJ zooming into them from far below. With no way of warning the formation of the impending disaster, he instinctively decided to handle them alone. Peeling away from his formation, he turned hard into the Mirages so that one of them overshot. Against the other, he did a steep reversal dropping his speed literally to zero. (It takes some guts to let eight tons of metal hang up in unfriendly air!) The result was that within moments, the second Mirage filled his gunsight. While Sattar worried about having to concentrate for precious seconds in aiming and shooting, the lead Mirage started to turn around to get Sattar. Thinking that help was at hand, the target Mirage decided to accelerate away. A quick-witted Sattar reckoned that a missile shot would be just right for the range his target had opened up to. A pip of a button later, a K-13 heat-seeker sped off towards the tail of the escaping Mirage. Sattar recollects that it wasn’t as much an Israeli aircraft as a myth that seemed to explode in front of him. (The letter ‘J’ in Mirage-IIICJ stood for ‘Jewish,’ it may be noted.) He was tempted to watch the flaming metal rain down, but with the other Mirage lurking around and fuel down to a few hundred litres, he decided to exit. Diving down with careless abandon, he allowed a couple of sonic bangs over Damascus. (Word has it that the Presidential Palace wasn't amused!) His fuel tanks bone dry, Sattar made it to Dumayr on the vapours that remained.

As the other formation members started to trickle in, the leader, Sqn Ldr Arif Manzoor anxiously called out for Sattar to check if he was safe. All had thought that Sattar, a bit of a maverick that he was, had landed himself in trouble. Shouts of joy went up on the radio, however, when they learnt that he had been busy shooting down a Mirage.

The Syrians were overwhelmed when they learnt that the impunity and daring of the Pakistani pilots had paid off. Sattar was declared a blood brother, for he had shared in shedding the blood of a common enemy, the Syrians explained!

Sattar's victim Captain M Lutz[3] of No 5 Air Wing based at Hatzor, ejected out of his disintegrating aircraft. It has been learnt that the Mirages were on a reconnaissance mission, escorted by Phantoms of No 1 Air Wing operating out of Ramat David Air Base. The Phantoms were to trap any interceptors while the Mirages carried out the recce. Timely warning by the radar controller (Flt Lt Saleem Metla, also from the PAF) had turned the tables on the escorts, allowing Sattar to sort out the Mirages.

The success of Shahbaz over Golan is testimony to the skills of all PAF pilots, insists Sattar, as he thinks any one could have got the kill had he been ‘Shahbaz-8’ on that fateful day. The Syrian Government awarded the Wisam al-Shuja'a to all the formation members. Additionally, Sattar and Arif were admitted as ‘knights’ (al-faris) in the coveted Wisam al-Istehqaq al-Suriya, one of the country’s highest awards for honourable and devoted service. The Government of Pakistan awarded Sattar and Arif with a Sitara-i-Jur’at as well. Sattar, an epitome of a fighter pilot, befittingly went on to command PAF’s elite Combat Commanders’ School and the premier PAF Base, Rafiqui. Many a fighter pilot trained by Sattar would swear by his audaciousness in the air. Even today, crew room lore persists that fighter pilots don’t come any bolder!

_________________________

[1] Sikhs call themselves ‘khalsas’ or pure.
[2] The noise made by cleavers as the meat is chopped while being cooked in large metal pans. ‘Takka tak’ is also the widespread name of the meat delicacy.
[3] The identity of the pilot and his Unit has been obtained from US sources that prefer to remain unidentified; absolute confirmation of these details is, therefore, not claimed.

This article is an excerpted chapter from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005. It was also published in: Shaheen - Journal of the PAF, Summer 1999 issue; Defence Journal, April 1999; The News International daily newspaper, 26 April 1999; Ausaf daily newspaper, 26 April 1999 (Urdu translation); Family Magazine weekly magazine, 5-11 Sep 1998 (Urdu translation); Akhbaar-e-Jahan weekly magazine, 31 Aug-6 Sep 1998 (Urdu translation)

It is the Man Behind the Gun

2008-11-21T08:12:00.008+05:00

Pakistani military planners had conceived the West to be the main theatre of 1971 War but the gains in Chamb, Hussainiwala and Fazilka turned out to be a measly sop for the loss of East Pakistan. Fierce resistance by Pakistani armour in Northern Punjab had stemmed a looming breach that threatened Shakargarh and Zafarwal, albeit at the cost of substantial territorial losses. In the Desert Sector, the Indian Army’s Southern Command had occupied vast tracts spread over 4,000 square miles. The stunned military junta was, therefore, desperate for a cease-fire, as the Pakistan Army valiantly tried to stave off Indian attempts at driving towards deeper strategic objectives. At this stage of the conflict, the PAF was still in the ring and on its feet. Close Air Support and Combat Air Patrols (CAP) over the battle area were being provided to the Army without any let up, till the curtain finally fell on 17th December.

On the last day of the war, two Sabres[1] led by Flt Lt Maqsood Amir of PAF’s No 18 Squadron took off from Sargodha, for a routine patrol over the battle area. The winter haze had not quite cleared up even by mid-day, so Maqsood asked the radar controller for a loiter height of 5,000 ft instead of the usual 1,000 ft, for better visibility. With his wingman Flt Lt Taloot Mirza in tow, Maqsood set up orbit around Pasrur, which was on the western edge of the battle area.

No 45 Squadron, equipped with MiG-21FL was based at Chandigarh. Just prior to the war, it had been split up into several detachments, one of which was deployed at Amritsar. A radar Surveillance Unit was also co-located at Amritsar and, given the proximity to the border, the Base was well poised for an instant response.

As expected, the reaction was swift when two MiG-21s scrambled to intercept the Sabre CAP. Sneaking in at low level, the MiGs were out of PAF’s radar cover but their VHF[2] radios were under surveillance. The IAF pilot-controller conversation was a good enough clue for the PAF controller, Sqn Ldr Rab Nawaz, to assess exactly what was going on. Carefully monitoring the radio calls of the ‘rats’ (code-word for MiG-21), he instructed Maqsood to fly at combat speed and keep a good lookout. The moment the MiG leader, Sqn Ldr Shankar, called ‘contact’ with the bogies, Nawaz instantly warned the Sabre pair that the threat was in the vicinity and they had better clear their tails.

As Maqsood threw in a left hand turn to look around, he was astonished to see two MiG-21s diving down at the Sabres from 8 o’clock, high position[3]. He recalls being struck by the aircrafts’ small delta wings and sleek, long fuselages; he also did not miss their desert camouflage, an oddity in the lush Punjab plains. The apparent toy model features of the MiGs, however, made a lethal transformation in front of Maqsood’s eyes when he saw a fiery streak shoot off from one of the aircraft!

Inducted in the IAF as an antidote to the PAF’s remarkable Starfighter, the MiG-21 was a far more manoeuvrable aircraft, with few aerodynamic vices. Compared to a Sabre, its small, heavily loaded wings were not suited for tight turning in the horizontal plane, but it had sufficient excess thrust to lift the fight into the vertical. Additionally, the MiG’s acceleration was impressive and, it could catch an adversary as fast as it could move out of its clutches. All things considered, the MiG-21 could fight on its own terms. The Sabre, on the other hand, had few options against a bi-sonic fighter. Happily, slow speed combat was the Sabre’s forte, thanks to a fine slatted wing[4]. Being able to force an overshoot was, thus, the name of the game.

What Maqsood did not know was that a K-13 missile had been launched and the flash that he had seen was not of cannon fire, really[5]. A missile launch would have required him to go for a maddening ‘break,’ leaving little energy for a fight back. Fortuitously, the hard turn had sufficed all the same; it not only defeated the early generation missile but also cramped the attackers for space.

Having stuck around through the arduous manoeuvring as wingman, Taloot found it too tempting to let go of the other MiG in front and started chasing it. As expected, the chase was futile but in the process he split up with Maqsood. Luckily, the two re-joined with the assistance of the radar controller, who was interrupting his instructions with a relay of the disconsolate MiG leader’s calls. “Shortie has ejected,” Nawaz heard Shankar tell Amritsar, as he kept his ear to the VHF monitor.

Flt Lt Tejwant Singh had ironically gone down to the Sabre, an aircraft that he had himself trained on during the Combat Crew Training Course done in USA in 1964. His friendship with some of the PAF pilots[6] during the course may also have been instructive in some ways, for to ‘know thy enemy’ is a familiar dictum of warfare. The superior performance of the MiG-21, versus the Sabre, was another factor of consequence in the dogfight. In the final analysis, however, it is the man behind the gun that makes the difference, as Maqsood demonstrated in this classic air battle. His skills were duly acknowledged with the award of a Tamgha-i-Jur’at.

Some years later, Maqsood decided to go back to the classroom, while a Wing Commander. Majoring in aerospace engineering as the only officer in a class full of cadets, he was the top graduate and won the University’s[7] prestigious gold medal. Having demonstrated his expertise with both ‘the sword and the pen,’ Maqsood is well qualified to judge what it takes to be a successful fighter pilot. Air combat is a mind-game,” asserts Maqsood, profoundly. “An analytical mind, together with sharp reflexes can carry the day – a superior machine not withstanding.”

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[1] The version flown by No 18 Squadron was the Canadair Sabre Mk-6 (known as F-86E in PAF).
[2] The IAF used Very High Frequency (VHF) while the PAF used Ultra High Frequency (UHF) for radio communications.
[3] The MiGs had ‘blown through’ the Sabre formation head-on, without having been observed. Subsequently, the MiGs got behind the Sabres through a low-to-high conversion.
[4] The ‘slats’ on the leading edge of the Sabre’s wings drooped down at slow speeds and allowed air to rush through the narrow slot that was consequently created; this fast moving air passed over the wings and re-energised the turbulent airflow, thus delaying the onset of stall.
[5] The IAF MiG-21s were usually configured with two K-13 missiles and a centre-line drop tank each, the latter replacing the optional 23mm belly gun pack.
[6] 2nd Lts M Arshad Choudhry and Salim Baig Mirza were Tejwant’s course-mates at Nellis AFB, USA. In a twist of fate, Baig was there to cheer up Tejwant when the latter was in custody as a POW in Rawalpindi. Maqsood Amir also briefly met his victim during the latter’s transit to the POW camp.
[7] PAF’s College of Aeronautical Engineering was then affiliated to the NED University of Science and Technology, Karachi.

This article is an excerpted chapter from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005.

A Hard Nut to Crack

2008-11-21T08:03:00.008+05:00

The much-awaited II Corps offensive on the Western Front got overtaken by events as the 1971 Indo-Pak War headed for a mortifying finale for Pakistan. PAF had been conserving its assets for the all-important battle, which was not to be. Enough pressure was, however, maintained to tie down IAF effort for air defence, as also to demonstrate an offensive resolve. Continual attacks on the forward airfields of Amritsar, Pathankot and Srinagar, were thus part of a carefully considered strategy. In the event, an Indian Army two-pronged offensive in Shakargarh sector had rendered neutralisation of these airfields most crucial.

No 26 Squadron, based at Peshawar, had been assigned to take care of Srinagar airfield. Daily attacks by Sabres had been causing some damage, but the runway repair gangs were ensuring that the airfield was not out of permanent service[1]. The morning of 14th December saw yet another bombing raid led by the Squadron Commander, Wg Cdr Sharbat Ali Changazi. Accompanying him were Flt Lts H K Dotani, Amjad Andrabi and Maroof Mir, whose Sabres were armed with two 500 lbs bombs each. Escorting the 4-ship package were Flt Lts Salim Baig Mirza and Rahim Yusufzai. Altogether it was a formidable force and, given the familiarity with Srinagar, it seemed like it would be another milk run.

After a 25-minute flight through the picturesque hills and vales of western Kashmir, Changazi’s commanding voice broke the radio silence, “Leader pulling up, contact with the target.” The time was 0730 hrs (PST). Dotani, Andrabi and Mir followed at short intervals, none missing the easily visible airfield complex. Popping up to 5,000 ft above ground, they dived one by one to release their bombs on the runway. Baig and Yusufzai loosened into an orbit overhead the airfield, looking out for any interceptors through the relentless Anti-Aircraft Artillery barrage.

Flg Off Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon of No 18 Squadron was rolling for take-off as No 2 in a two-Gnat formation, just as the first bombs were falling on the runway. Said to have been delayed due to dust kicked up by the preceding Gnat, Sekhon lost no time in singling out the first Sabre pair, which was re-forming after the bombing run. Changazi was, however, quick to detect the attacker behind his wingman. “Gnat behind, all punch tanks,” yelled Changazi. No 3 (Andrabi), who was just pulling out of the attack, was horrified to see the Gnat no more than 1,000 ft and firing at Dotani. “Break left,” called Andrabi, as he himself manoeuvred to get behind the Gnat. Dotani, who had been turning frantically, found his low-powered Sabre tottering at the verge of stall[2]. Unable to hang around any longer with such a precarious energy state, he decided to make a getaway. No 4 (Mir) in the meantime had completed his bombing run and, having no visual contact with the rest, decided to head home as well. The Gnat Leader, Flt Lt Ghuman, had also lost visual with his wingman just after take-off. Said to have failed in re-establishing contact, Ghuman remained out of the fight leaving Sekhon to handle the muddle all by himself.

The fight had turned into a classic tail chase, with a Sabre followed by a Gnat, which in turn was followed by another Sabre. “I am getting behind one but the other is getting an edge on me,” is how Sekhon had described the situation to his controllers. With two more free fighters watching over, the lone Gnat was practically up against four Sabres. Andrabi had, by now, closed in behind the Gnat’s rear quarters and was firing steadily. He was sure that he would get the Gnat, he excitedly forecast on the radio. His Sabre was incessantly spewing out a stream of 0.5” bullets but, despite good aim and textbook range, remained off the mark. What should have been a quick kill dragged on clumsily, testing everyone’s patience and nerves.

The Sabre had enough firepower to riddle a whole formation with bullets, so everyone was dumb-founded when Andrabi’s voice crackled on the radio, “Three is Winchester!” It meant that he had exhausted 1,800 rounds and his guns had stopped firing. The Gnat was still turning circles and it seemed that unless help came fast, Andrabi would soon be at the receiving end.

Changazi was carefully monitoring the dogfight while looking out for the elusive Gnat Leader, whose fleeting glimpse he had caught a while ago[3]. On hearing that Andrabi was spent, Changazi called him to join up as his wingman. Dislodging himself from the Gnat’s tail, Andrabi dutifully moved towards his leader. As the two were forming up, Sekhon took advantage of the slack, straightened out and jettisoned the drop tanks. In the flurry of activity, Sekhon had overlooked a vitally important step and, it was just as well that he shed dead weight for the next round. Nimbler than before, the Gnat could be seen to turn ever more tight as it started to catch up onto Changazi and Andrabi’s pair. Perched on top, the escorts watched in astonishment as the Gnat snatched degrees at a dizzying rate. The situation was getting stickier by the minute and in a couple of turns the Gnat was in a menacing position.

Silver-tongued and gravel-voiced, Andrabi was a class unto himself when he took to the radio. A smattering of expletives ensured that his calls were never disregarded even in the toughest of air combat manoeuvres. Thus, when Andrabi shouted for help against the attacker whose lineage he had declared suspect, everyone took notice! The escorts instantly dived down to grapple with Sekhon, who had turned out to be a hard nut to crack. While Yusufzai covered up as wingman, Baig easily manoeuvred to get behind the Gnat, much to everyone’s relief.

Baig had the privilege of opening his Squadron’s account by shooting down a Hunter near Peshawar, ten days earlier[4]. Since then, he had been in the thick of action in almost every sortie that he went up for. This experience, coupled with his unflappable personality, came in handy as Baig calmly positioned his pipper on the canopy of the Gnat and opened fire. Less than three seconds later the Gnat started to spew thick black smoke. Baig knew it was all over so he stopped firing and watched for the next move.

Meanwhile, the Base Commander and some senior pilots who were in the Air Traffic Control tower to monitor the dogfight, heard Sekhon’s frantic call to his leader, “I think I have been hit. Ghuman, come and get them.” With the mission leader still nowhere to be seen, the baffled ground supervisors tried to help Sekhon with the emergency but to no avail. Baig, who was following behind, saw the Gnat level its wings and head for the airfield, as if to indicate that for him the fight was over. Suddenly, the Gnat went inverted as it dove down uncontrollably from very low height. In all likelihood, the aircraft’s flight control system had failed. Sekhon attempted a last minute ejection as his canopy was seen to fly off, but the height was too low for the ejection system to function fully. The wreckage of the Gnat was found in a gorge, a few miles from the Base.

As the Sabres were reforming for recovery, Andrabi was surprised to notice that his left drop tank was still there, while the right one was gone. The aircraft was skidding to one side, something that he had not felt during the heat of the battle. He now reckoned a bit late why the bullets had not found their mark. Much to everyone’s relief though, Baig had saved the day and the formation made it back to Peshawar, unscathed[5]. Baig’s kill, however, did not get duly noticed, as the mission was seen to be a close call by the Air Staff at the PAF Headquarters. His citation for gallant action thus only made it to the ‘Mentioned in Despatches’ category. An award not withstanding, Baig is highly regarded in the PAF for belonging to the elite club of fighter pilots with multiple kills.

Sekhon, on the other hand, was posthumously awarded the Param Vir Chakra, India’s highest award for wartime gallantry and the only one received by an airman. His was a commendable effort indeed, as he had kept the field single-handedly to the very end.

_________________________

[1] An interesting aside to the attack-and-repair game were warnings delivered to the Garrison Engineer (GE) , Srinagar, through leaflet drops by Sabres. The GE was warned not to repair the runway, else his house would be bombed! The leaflets were inserted in the speed brakes and were released through a momentary pip, just after the actual bomb release – a dicey prank indeed.
[2] PAF was flying two versions of the Sabre in the 1971 War - the North American F-86F and the Canadair Sabre Mk-6 (ex-Luftwaffe). The F-86F model that equipped No 26 Squadron had a markedly low-powered engine, which did little to help sustain speed and turn rates in combat.
[3] The Gnat Leader was briefly observed by Changazi at a higher altitude than the rest and, flying reciprocal to the direction of the engaged fighters. He was not seen again by any one.
[4] Flg Off Kotliezath P Muralidharan of No 20 Squadron was shot down on 4th Dec 1971, following a raid on Peshawar airfield.
[5] Contrary to IAF’s citation for Sekhon’s award, none of the Sabres was hit during the dogfight.

This article is an excerpted chapter from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005.

Cheapest Kill

2008-11-20T20:22:00.011+05:00

The morning of 7th of December was quite hazy, particularly at lower altitudes where the dust of Punjab plains mingled with the moist, cold air, giving the sky a murky appearance. It was just four days since the 1971 Indo-Pak War had broken out. While the PAF was conserving its air effort in the early stages of war, IAF’s intensity of air operations was building up at a fast pace.

“Your target now over Tarn Taran, heading 360; do not acknowledge.”

“Target 20 (degrees) right, five (miles), turn hard left 360, do not climb; do not acknowledge.”

“Target 12 o’clock, two (miles), go full bore; do not acknowledge.”

“Okay, target is one mile ahead …”

The IAF had been expecting PAF fighters to sneak in below radar cover. Thus, to be doubly sure about any undetected intruders, the IAF used a capability that it was well equipped for – eavesdropping into pilot-controller conversation. Listening in to what was going on, the IAF controller was completely dumbfounded at the development, for he had not yet picked up any blip on his scope. All of a sudden, he frantically shouted on the radio to announce the presence of interceptors in the Gnat’s rear quarters! It was no surprise that the controller's warning to Mohan sounded eerie, as if a spectre was being reported. With the interceptors’ distance rapidly reducing and shooting down of the Gnat almost a certainty, the controller followed up with a panic ‘break’ call. Mohan reacted as any fighter pilot would have done in that situation. He yanked back on the control stick and threw in a very tight turn to shake off his pursuers.

India’s Official History of Indo-Pak War, 1971, published thirty years later, covers the air operations with a diary of action which includes important events like air raids, aerial victories and losses on both sides. A keen reader would notice acknowledgement of the loss of a Gnat on 7th December 1971 in which, “the pilot tried to take evasive action when warned of Pak aircraft in the vicinity. He lost control and crashed[1].” The only inaccuracy with the account is that Pakistani aircraft were nowhere near!

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[1] Chapter X – ‘The IAF in the West,’ page 427.

This article is an excerpted chapter from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005.

A Sword for Hussein

2008-11-20T19:52:00.012+05:00

Part-I

Commitments under the newly signed pact with Egypt, as well as the prevailing atmosphere of anti-Israeli rage in the Arab world forced King Hussein bin Talal’s hand at the outbreak of the Six Day War of 1967. Any doubts that he may have had about Jordan entering the war were overcome by a misleading telephone call he received from the Egyptian President at mid-day on 5th June. In a bizarre ‘all is well’ report, Nasser assured Hussein that scores of Israeli aircraft had been downed and that Egyptian armoured columns were pushing across the Negev Desert for a link-up with Jordanian forces in the Hebron Hills. As a matter of fact, the Egyptian Air Force lay in smoking ruins after the Israeli Air Force had delivered a knockout blow! Oblivious of the factual position, King Hussein ordered his armed forces to attack immediately after Nasser’s call.

Parked on the flight lines at Mafraq Air Base were Hunters of No 1 Squadron, the only fighter outfit of the Royal Jordanian Air Force (RJAF). Strapped in the cockpits since morning, the pilots were eagerly awaiting a go-ahead for strikes against Israeli airfields at Kfar Saba, Kfar Sirkin and Natanya. The past few days had been occupied with preparation of maps and low-level flight profiles. The excitement and tension had reached a pitch and all pilots were ready to get into action.

Flt Lt Saif-ul-Azam of the Pakistan Air Force, who had been on secondment with the RJAF since November 1966, was to lead one of the strike missions. At about 0900 hrs, he was told to hand over the lead to a Jordanian pilot and rush to a Hunter that had been readied for an air defence mission. Saif hurriedly strapped into the other aircraft and, along with his wingman Lt Ihsan Shurdom[1], stood on standby eagerly waiting for the hooter to sound the ‘scramble.’

A few days earlier, Saif and his other PAF colleague, Flt Lt Sarwar Shad had been called by the RJAF Commander to ascertain their position in case of war. Both promptly offered their services, while suggesting that the opinion of the Government of Pakistan be obtained for further details. It was tentatively decided that they would fly as ‘volunteers’ in Jordanian uniforms. Official Pakistani clearance to fly only air defence missions was received just in time, which had required Saif to hurriedly switch roles on the tarmac.

After half an hour of impatient waiting in the cockpit, Saif belatedly learnt that the Israeli Air Force had struck Egyptian airfields. Sitting helplessly on the ground waiting for orders was nerve racking and, all pilots squirmed in their cockpits to seek revenge. Mafraq was sure to be attacked, as everyone guessed, so it was some relief when two formations finally took off at 1150 hrs and headed west. A short while later, in a show of solidarity, a formation of six Iraqi Hunters overflew Mafraq on their way to Lydda airfield in Israel. The heightened air activity reached a crescendo when orders were relayed for all aircraft to scramble as fast as they could. Saif and his wingman Ihsan were the first to get airborne in the fervent melee, followed by four more Hunters. Air Traffic Control announced the bad news that one of the Hunters flown by Major Firas al-Ja'uni had been strafed and had caught fire. The unfortunate pilot could not get out of the burning aircraft.

After take-off, Saif contacted the radar for further instructions. The radar controller announced a vector and the interceptors headed in the required direction. Soon, another vector was announced and the pair changed heading. It was not long before the controller declared that there were too many aircraft and it was difficult to make out who was who. Saif was, therefore, asked to be on his own. Noting the controller’s dilemma, Saif called out to his wingman to stay close. Visibility in the hot, dusty desert was barely a mile and there were no signs of enemy aircraft. Saif rechecked with the controller if there were any aircraft approaching Mafraq. His fears were confirmed when he received a reply in the affirmative.

Turning around, Saif headed for the Base. About four miles short, he spotted four aircraft flying in battle formation at low level. The camouflage of the aircraft seen through haze seemed similar to that of the Iraqi formation that had passed overhead some time ago, so Saif was led to believe that they must have been returning after the raid. Following them for a while, he watched with amazement as they changed into echelon formation, getting ready for an attack! Realising his mistake in recognising the Israeli Mystères, which looked similar to Hunters from a distance, Saif promptly manoeuvred behind the trailing aircraft of the formation. As the aircraft was turning for the attack, Saif closed in and let off a smugly-aimed fusillade from the Hunter’s four immensely powerful 30mm cannon. The Mystère[2] caught fire and its pieces started to fly off; Saif had to pull up to avoid hitting the debris. Moments later, the aircraft crashed near the perimeter fence of the Base, with the pilot Capt Hanania Bula still inside the stricken aircraft.

Looking around for other attackers that he had lost during the shooting, Saif noticed the smoke trail of two Mystères charging off towards the west at full power. As Saif turned hard for them, Ihsan, called a bogey on the right. Saif directed Ihsan, who had tenaciously stuck around during the tight manoeuvring, to break off and go after the singleton while he went for the pair on the left.

Saif managed to get behind the trailing Mystère, which had started thrashing about to spoil his aim. During the frantic turn reversals, Saif fired four times but his bullets stayed off the mark. Desperate for a kill, Saif was at wits end when he noticed his quarry loosening the turn and straightening out for home. Closing in to about 600 feet, Saif squeezed the trigger for a fifth time. The Mystère started to trail smoke from its right wing as the Hunter’s guns scored hits[3]. The aircraft ducked down and, before Saif could confirm if it had been terminally despatched, he saw the leader of the enemy pair turning to attack him[4]. Low on fuel and ammunition, Saif wisely decided to disengage and turn for Mafraq.

Reckoning that Mafraq runway had been rendered unfit for use, Saif called all aircraft to hold north of the airfield while he checked the feasibility of landing there. His call for joining instructions was surprisingly answered by a welcome clearance and, the controller followed it up by declaring the runway fit for landing. A sharp-eared Ihsan suspected something wrong and instantly broke into Arabic to check the identity of the controller. He also wanted to know the name of Ihsan’s dog, which was some sort of a cross-check code. The Jordanian controller then came up on the radio and warned them not to land at Mafraq. Ihsan’s presence of mind saved the pair from the trap of an Israeli spoofer, who had cleared them for a landing that was certain to be an unqualified wreck.

All the airborne aircraft diverted to Amman International Airport, which had not yet been visited by the Israelis. The pilots were lucky to have landed shortly before the Israeli Air Force struck the airport. Their aircraft, however, could not escape destruction as they were caught parked in the open. The pilots helplessly watched as the later-version Super Mystères delivered attacks with a new type of rocket-boosted ‘dibber’ bomb, which penetrated deep into the runway surface and cratered it badly. The attacks were delivered from shallow dive angles, which minimised exposure to Anti-Aircraft Artillery guns. Civilian facilities on the airport were strafed and badly damaged. Several transport aircraft and helicopters were also destroyed.

After an eventful morning, the pilots gathered at the Operations Headquarters in Amman to exchange notes about the encounters that had taken place. Ihsan had claimed a Mystère while his leader was busy chasing the exiting pair. One of the Hunter pilots, Capt Wasefi, had ejected near Amman after having been shot down by an Israeli Mirage[5]. RJAF’s sole fighter squadron had put up a spirited fight, though the pilots felt dejected over the losses suffered. The worst blow was the destruction of 20 Hunters on the ground at Mafraq and Amman International. Many of these were being serviced on the flight lines after their morning missions; invaluable expertise in the shape of many technicians was thus lost as well. Sadly, the small RJAF had been virtually wiped out.

An hour later, the pilots were surprised to have in their midst, King Hussein, who had come to cheer them up for their brave effort in Jordan’s first major air war. In the gloomy situation that was prevailing, King Hussein was a paragon of fortitude and courage. He was cognisant of his decision that had brought upon the Jordanians the tribulation that they now faced. He explained the circumstances in which he had decided to go to war. His message was that of faith and hope in the face of adversity. PAF’s Assistant Chief of Staff (Operations), Air Cdre A Rahim Khan, who was visiting Jordan at that time, was also there to express his solidarity with the RJAF personnel.

As if to unburden himself of the debt he owed to the pilots of No 1 Squadron, King Hussein again visited them in the evening. Turning to Saif, he told him to get into his car, a privilege that was extended only to the most honoured compatriots. They drove off to the main hospital to see PAF’s Flt Lt Shad who was convalescing after an appendicitis complication. Later, the King along with Saif drove off to Mafraq, about 40 miles from Amman. Saif recalls that during the drive, King Hussein kept reassuring him like a younger brother. He said that it was a minor setback in a battle and not a defeat in a war, words that were most encouraging and inspiring for Saif. The King was hopeful that more could be done as the war had not yet ended. With young men like Saif around, all was not lost and the fight could go on. After all Saif[6] had been, quite literally, a sword for Hussein. Thus armed, the King was unwilling to give up easily…

Part-II

During the drive from Amman to Mafraq Air Base, King Hussein had told Saif that he had talked to President Abd al-Rehman Arif and offered the services of his pilots to carry on the war from Iraq. President Arif had agreed to provide the aircraft, and soon orders were issued for a move to Iraq.

Around midnight, an expedition consisting of RJAF pilots and support personnel moved in a road convoy, on their way to the cryptically named H-3 Air Base[7] located about 40 miles inside Iraq’s western border. The night in the desert was cold and the ride was rough. The past 24 hours had been turbulent and the physical and mental strain was showing. Partly dozing, partly awake, everyone seemed anxious to get to his destination and become part of the war effort again.

The seemingly endless drive continued as it dawned on the morning of 6th June. The quiet of the desert was broken only by the noise of vehicles and an occasional Iraqi military convoy heading west. Tired and hungry, the party prepared for a roadside breakfast halt. A large number of military transports were dispersed on both sides of the road and, Iraqi troops were resting before their onward journey to the Israeli border. All of a sudden, a formation of four Vautour[8] light bombers, escorted by a pair of Mirage-IIICJ fighters roared overhead, flying east along the road towards H-3. The RJAF convoy promptly halted and everyone dispersed in the desert, just in case the returning raiders decided on a shot of opportunity at the gathering.

As expected, about fifteen minutes later the egressing Israeli aircraft pulled up and started strafing the Iraqi vehicles. After a single pass, they continued onwards with their exit[9]. Two vehicles caught fire and several soldiers were injured. It took some time for everyone to gather again. There were outbursts of rage and, some questioned the wisdom of travelling during daytime. One senior commander suggested a 24-hour halt in the desert, but the young pilots did not like the idea at all. There was much grumbling and disagreement.

Saif, being the lone foreigner, kept out of the discussion, but two young pilots approached him and wanted to know his intentions. Saif said that since he was from the PAF, he was obliged to obey orders to reach H-3 at the earliest and, if the party decided otherwise, he would take a ride on Iraqi transports plying up and down. He was in a bit of a quandary too, as he could not interfere with the contingent commander’s decision. While discussions were going on, a group of youngsters suddenly appeared and asked Saif to take over command of the contingent! Embarrassed about the situation he found himself in, he argued that a coup d’etat in the middle of the desert – that too during war – was the last thing he could contemplate. He was, however, firmly told that since they had decided to arrest and even shoot the commander, it was logical for the next senior to take charge. It took some persuasion on Saif’s part to cool things down.

Saif met the commander separately and tried to explain that the youngsters were rearing for a return bout with the Israeli’s, and their emotional state had to be understood. He also explained that under the circumstances, a certain amount of risk had to be taken. The commander was quick to grasp Saif’s argument and ordered everyone to board the transports. A serious situation was thus averted.

The RJAF contingent reached H-3 safe and sound. The Iraqi Air Force personnel were effusive in welcoming them. Before they could move off to their billets, however, the Base Commander revealed a change in plans. It was decided that in view of the vulnerability of H-3, as demonstrated in two previous raids, operations would be undertaken from Habbaniyah Air Base, about 50 miles west of Baghdad. H-3 was to be used as a staging base.

Habbaniyah Air Base, with the meandering Euphrates on one side and the picturesque Lake Habbaniyah on the other, had been host to three Hunter squadrons, including a conversion Unit. A nearby satellite airfield, commonly known as ‘Plateau,’ housed a Tu-16 bomber squadron. Both Bases were under the command of Col Hamid Shaban[10].

After setting course in the afternoon, the contingent reached Habbaniyah at 2100 hrs. For about two hours, nobody seemed to know what to do with the new arrivals. Finally, arrangements were made to house them and some time later, food was served. As it happened, the Base had learnt of their arrival only a short while ago, and messing arrangements for a large contingent took some time. True to Arab tradition, the food was sumptuous and sizzling and the Iraqi hosts were most friendly and hospitable. After a hearty fill, the exhausted and drowsy visitors retired, somewhat hesitant of what lay in store for the next day.

A gentle nudge and a whispering voice woke up Saif early at dawn on the morning of 7th June. Looking around, he found the same Iraqi Lieutenant who had met him the night before. The young officer conveyed the Base Commander’s message, “He needs four pilots to volunteer for the first mission to take-off shortly and you are requested to lead!” Saif had heard of such detailing of volunteers as party jokes in the PAF, but this was the first time it was being played on him.

Once at the Base Headquarters, the RJAF pilots were hurriedly introduced to the senior commanders and other officers. There was no time to be wasted. Intelligence information had indicated that a large formation of Israeli planes was expected to repeat a strike on H-3. Saif was, therefore, to lead a four-ship formation to intercept the raiders.

Saif immediately got down to briefing the pilots. His formation consisted of Lt Ihsan Shurdom, his trusted wingman of RJAF, along with Lt Samir Yousaf Zainal and 2nd Lt Ghalib Abdul Hameed al-Qaysee of Iraqi Air Force. It was a truly international group, meeting for the first time over a cup of tea. Not knowing much about each other’s experience and operational training standards, they were committed to be comrades-in-arms. They were ready to engage the enemy, a desire sustained by their common Faith.

While they were having late breakfast, they received a message[11] to take-off immediately. Within minutes, the four-ship Hunter formation was on its way to H-3. Climbing to 25,000 ft, the formation members maintained radio silence till the controller announced, “Expecting enemy attacks on H-3.” Moments later, he called out confidently, “Leader, there is a big formation pulling up over H-3, descend and engage it.”

The Israeli formation consisted of six aircraft. A section of four Vautours of No 110 Squadron was led by the Deputy Squadron Commander Capt Shlomo Keren in a two-seater, with Capt Alexander Meltzer as his navigator. The other members were Col Yehezkel Someh (Base Commander of Ramat David Air Base), Capt Yitzhak Golan and Lt Avshalom Friedman in single seaters[12]. Two Mirages of No 117 Squadron doubled up as armed escorts, each carrying two bombs; Maj Ezra Dotan led the pair, with Capt Gideon Dror as wingman.

The Hunters were five miles short of H-3 when Saif started diving down towards the airfield and called out for arming the guns. Soon, he spotted two Vautours approaching from the west. “Right boys, follow me and let us descend faster.” Ihsan chipped in, “Sir, how about punching the drop tanks?” Saif realised his mistake and ordered all to jettison their 230-gallon tanks. Engrossed in spotting the aircraft, Saif had overlooked a vital check but was relieved to know that his formation members were alert.

As Saif manoeuvred to get behind the Vautours, Samir called out, “Two Mirages behind you.” Looking back, Saif saw the pair about 4,000 feet behind, turning for them. In an instant, Saif decided to split his formation, with himself and Ihsan (No 2) going for the Mirages while Samir and Ghalib (Nos 3 & 4) went for the Vautours. Turning hard to the right, Saif cramped the Mirages for manoeuvring space, forcing them to pull up for a ‘yo yo.’ Reversing his turn, Saif noticed one of the Mirages still turning right, apparently having lost sight of the Hunters. Saif managed to turn inside the Mirage and started to catch up fast. At the extreme limits of range, the Mirage could not light up its fuel-guzzling afterburner, or else it could have easily out-run the subsonic Hunter. In the event, the Mirage had to face the Hunter’s lethal cannon. Uttering ‘Bismillah[13],’ Saif pressed the trigger for about two seconds. The bullets landed squarely on the wings, as sparks flew off the metal skin. Suddenly, the Mirage was engulfed in a big ball of fire; the pilot, Capt Dror, ejected in full view of the Base personnel watching from the ground.

“Leader, you have finally won the bet, it’s a Mirage,” called Ihsan on the radio. “You bet it is, but stop the fun and look out for more,” responded Saif. Several months ago, Saif had a dream in which he saw that he had shot down an Israeli Mirage. When he narrated his dream in the squadron, the pilots seemed so impressed that instead of laughing it off as a joke, they got into an animated discussion on the basics of air combat. Ihsan had then bet that if Saif ever shot down a Mirage in real life, a precious gift and a grand party would follow. Now, in the middle of air combat, Ihsan had not lost his wit and humour one bit!

Breaking off to the right after downing the Mirage, Saif spotted a Vautour coming head-on, about 2,000 feet below. Without batting an eyelid, Saif inverted his aircraft and pulled through for a ‘split-S.’ The manoeuvre can go awry if there is insufficient clearance from the ground, but Saif pulled back on the control stick to the point of almost blacking out. When he levelled off, he found himself behind the Vautour, charging in with a very high rate of closure despite the speed brakes opened and throttle pulled back to idle. The distance was now only 200 feet, too close for the safety of his own aircraft were the much larger Vautour to explode like his previous victim. Deciding not to miss the chance, Saif opened fire and after three bursts of his cannon, saw parts of the aircraft fly off. His own aircraft juddered as if hit by something; Saif had to look around to be sure he was not being shot at.

Capt Golan lost control and ejected from his disintegrating Vautour. Saif called up the ATC tower to spot two white parachutes, which he thought to be those from a two-seat Vautour. Actually, the chutes were those of Dror, who had ejected from the Mirage at a higher altitude a little earlier, and Golan who escaped low from the Vautour. Both now found themselves parachuting in formation, ironically, Dror still escorting Golan!

Low on fuel, Saif was planning to exit when he heard Samir call out excitedly, “Leader, I have shot him, I have shot a Vautour, I have shot a Vautour.” Saif had to quieten him down, lest he block vital communication on the radio. In the melee, Ihsan also called that he had shot a Vautour.

As Saif started to gather the formation, he saw a Mirage (flown by Maj Dotan) chasing a Hunter right over the airfield. It was Ghalib's Hunter and, it was trailing smoke. Turn by turn everyone called him on the radio to eject but he did not respond. The aircraft went into a shallow dive and hit the abandoned oil tanks near the airfield. The sad incident overshadowed the otherwise successful mission.

Everyone’s fuel was marginal after such heavy demands on the engines. Samir’s fuel state was most critical so he decided to land at H-3, despite some damage to the runway. Saif and Ihsan made it to Habbaniyah, but only after a cruise at high altitude. Spotting the airfield in unfamiliar area was, luckily, not a problem as the road to Habbaniyah was conspicuous in the desert. Allowing Ihsan to break-off and land first, Saif followed through a straight-in approach.

A large crowd had gathered at the flight lines. As Saif switched off and came out of the aircraft, he was lifted up and paraded all over the place. Everyone was shouting, “Death to Zionism, death to Israel.” Saif had tears of joy in his eyes. He recalls thanking Allah for the success and also prayed for young Ghalib, whom he had met barely for half an hour before the fateful mission.

Some airmen had also gathered around Saif’s Hunter and, were expressing their amazement at the nerve of the intrepid pilot who had rammed into the Israeli aircraft when he ran out of ammunition! They could not have been blamed for their mistake because the Vautour’s flying debris had damaged the Hunter’s wingtips and, some metal pieces were embedded in its fuselage after the close-range shooting.

When Saif reached the squadron, he was told that two Israeli aircrew had been captured at H-3 and were under despatch to Baghdad. He was more interested in his wingman Ihsan who was nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that he was supposed to have landed earlier. No one seemed to give him a satisfactory reply, except that Ihsan would be there shortly. Saif’s concern was short-lived, as Ihsan arrived after about fifteen minutes with a grin on his face. Saif discovered the truth when Ihsan confessed that he had landed at the nearby ‘Plateau’ airfield, mistaking it for Habbaniyah.

The epilogue to the raid on H-3 was a report received from Saudi Arabia confirming the crash of a two-seat Vautour-IIN on its northern border with Iraq. Both the pilots had been found dead. Capt Keren and Capt Meltzer[14] had tried to nurse the stricken aircraft back through a safer route after being hit over H-3, but their luck ran out. If one were to go by Lt Samir’s radio calls alone, his claim of a Vautour could easily prevail but, in all earnestness, it could also have been Ihsan’s kill.

The plethora of accomplishments by the Israeli Air Force did not prevent a scathing indictment of the conduct of operations over H-3, in the post-war debrief. Col Eleizer Cohen, in his book Israel’s Best Defense alludes to it by stating, “The damage to H-3 was peripheral, and the losses – a killed pilot and navigator, two pilots captured and three aircraft downed – were heavier than at any other base[15].” Maj Gen Mordechai Hod, the Commander of the Israeli Air Force is said to have remarked that the critique of H-3 fiasco made him feel almost as if he had lost the war. Whatever factors may have been discussed during the debrief, there is little doubt that the Israelis were aware of the H-3 rout being the handiwork of a determined team, under the able leadership of a first class PAF pilot. That Mossad was ignorant of this fact would be under-rating the capabilities of a notoriously efficient intelligence outfit.

Saif-ul-Azam’s exploits in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War were a display of true grit in an otherwise dismal showing, which made him a hero in several countries. The Government of Jordan admitted him to the prestigious Wisam al-Istaqlal, while the Iraqi Government conferred the Nawt al-Shuja’a. The Pakistani Government rewarded him with a Sitara-i-Basalat[16]. Earlier, in the 1965 Indo-Pak War, he had shot down an Indian Gnat[17] for which he was awarded the Sitara-i-Jur’at. He has the unique achievement of downing four different types of aircraft while flying with three different Air Forces. He eventually donned the uniform of yet another Air Force when he moved to his new homeland, Bangladesh, in 1972.

_________________________

[1] Shurdom later rose to be the Commander of RJAF.
[2] The raiding aircraft were the Mystère-IVA of No 116 Squadron, though some writings have erroneously mentioned them as Super Mystères.
[3] The Mystère pilot Capt Z Porat, who managed to land back with a damaged aircraft, attributed it to AAA fire.
[4] Captain Mario Shaked, the IAF pair leader, incorrectly claimed downing Saif’s Hunter.
[5] Wasefi was shot down near Amman by a Mirage-IIIC flown by Capt Oded Sagee after a long chase, following RJAF’s raid on Kfar Sirkin airfield.
[6] Saif means ‘sword’ in Arabic.
[7] A chain of pumping stations for an oil pipeline from Kirkuk in Iraq, to Haifa in what is now Israel, was denoted by H-series during the time of British Mandate, hence the nearby Air Base named thus. It was also known as Al-Walid Air Base.
[8] Vautour means ‘vulture’ in French.
[9] This minor incident narrated by Flt Lt Saif-ul-Azam is also described from an aerial vantage point by Maj Herzle Bodinger, the leader of the Vautour formation, in Israel’s Best Defense by Col Eliezer Cohen (page 235). Bodinger later rose to be the Commander of Israeli Air Force.
[10] Shaban later rose to be the Commander of Iraqi Air Force.
[11] Israeli’s contend that the Syrians notified the Iraqi’s about the impending raid after the strike package unwittingly overflew a Syrian radar site near Dar’a, on its way to H-3.
[12] Of the 20 Vautours available to the Israeli Air Force in 1967, a few were two-seat models; every four-ship formation included a two-seat Vautour-IIN in the lead along with three single-seat Vautour-IIAs.
[13] ‘[I commence] In the name of Allah.’
[14] Meltzer is said to have attempted a late ejection, which proved fatal. The bodies of Keren and Meltzer were returned to Israel two months after the war.
[15] Page 252.
[16] The Sitara-i-Basalat (Star of Courage), conferred for ‘valour, courage and devotion to duty during operations not involving the enemy,’ was found to be an expedient solution at that time, as the Pakistani Government did not want to cast its armed forces in a mercenary role when participating in combat operations abroad. This pretence was later set aside and PAF pilots were conferred with proper gallantry awards.
[17] Saif-ul-Azam shot down an IAF Gnat flown by Flg Off Vijay Mayadev on 19th Sep, 1965 near Sialkot.

This article is based on two excerpted chapters from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005. It was also published in Defence Journal, June 2003 issue.

‘Bo Kaata’

2008-11-20T09:51:00.011+05:00

Faced with unexpectedly stiff resistance from Pakistan Army, the Indian offensive launched on 6th September 1965 in the Lahore-Kasur sector had floundered badly. Having failed to capture the vital bridges on BRB[1] Canal, XI Corps formations were unfavourably poised for further offensive operations towards Lahore. On a similar note, though Pakistan Army’s counter-offensive spearheaded by 1 Armoured Division had resulted in the capture of Khem Karan, further advance had been checked by Indian forces. For either side, the only prospect of a breakthrough under these stalemated conditions lay in meaningful intervention from the air. Control of the air was, therefore, vital for unhindered air support to land operations.

Relentless battering by the PAF had left the IAF mauled in the battle for air superiority. Having suffered several times more aircraft losses at the hands of an air force that was much smaller, the mood in the IAF was unquestionably distraught. PAF pilots thus found it opportune to fly Combat Air Patrols (CAP) with impunity, to the extent of setting up station on the border and, sometimes even inside enemy territory.

On the afternoon of 20th September, four Sabres took off from Sargodha for the usual CAP along Lahore-Kasur axis. The formation consisted of a motley of pilots – crème de la crème of different Units. The leader of the formation was Sqn Ldr Sharbat Ali Changazi, whose Mongol lineage was as conspicuous as it was daunting. He had managed to pull strings to be relieved from liaison duties with the Army and, had been attached to the Base a few days after the outbreak of the war. Entering the cockpit after months of medical unfitness following a scooter accident, Changazi was rearing for a clash in the air. His wingman (No 2) was Flt Lt Anwaar-ul-haq Malik of No 5 Squadron, who had shot down a Mystère[2] on 7th September. Earning him the admiration and envy of his formation members, this achievement also gave Malik an air of unbridled confidence. The Deputy Leader (No 3) was Flt Lt Nazir Jilani, one of the Flight Commanders of No 11 Sqn. Flt Lt Amanullah, who was undergoing training on F-104s at the outbreak of war and had just switched back to F-86s, completed the formation as No 4.

Climbing to 20,000 ft, the Sabres headed southeast towards Kasur. The haze was bad and they could not see much of the ground. The sooner they had set up orbit, Sakesar radar warned them of IAF’s prompt reaction. “Four bogies climbing well inside enemy territory, heading north,” called the radar controller, racing everyone’s pulse.

The IAF had been working at ways to snare the Sabre CAPs for some time and, it was thought that a ‘mixed bag’ fighter sweep would do the trick. This time around, two Hunters and two Gnats were scrambled from Halwara. Sqn Ldr D P Chatterjee led No 7 Squadron’s Hunters, with Flt Lt S K Sharma as his wingman. Flt Lt A K Mazumdar and Flg Off K C Khanna formed the Gnat pair from No 2 Squadron.

Luck seemed to be in short supply as events unfolded for the sweep aircraft. Amritsar radar announced that it had lost the enemy blips on the radar scope, but directed the fighters to continue towards Amritsar and then head west. Arriving over Lahore, they found no trace of the Sabres, which was not surprising, given the poor visibility. Over enemy territory and clueless about where the blow would come from, was not the recommended method of flying a sweep mission. Worse, the Hunters and Gnats lost mutual contact too, and the pairs were on their own.

When the Sabres reached Lahore they had a dependable ground radar scanning through the hazy sky. A tight cross-cover formation also helped keep a double check on their tails as the Sabres circled over the historic city. Lahorites had earlier seen the Sabres in action on the morning of the Indian attack when No 19 Squadron had administered a classic work over to the armoured columns that threatened their city. Now, with the air situation again in control, Lahorites were ready for an encore.

During the orbit over Lahore, Amanullah spotted a couple of specks through the haze. “Two bandits about 5,000 ft below, 11 o’clock,” he warned. The sooner this call was heard, drop tanks were jettisoned and master firing switches armed, almost as reflex actions. Moments later, the specks transformed into silhouettes of two Hunters. Jilani and Amanullah, who were closer, peeled off to dive after them. In the meantime, Changazi and Malik spotted a Hunter, which they presumed to be part of another pair that had perhaps sneaked in. Actually, it was Chatterjee who had split from his wingman during the defensive turn and, Changazi was only too pleased to tackle a singleton. Thus, within seconds of the encounter, two pockets of clashing fighters emerged – each with two Sabres jostling a Hunter.

Lahorites’ boundless passion for kite-flying, including an almost frenzied desire to bring down any other contender’s kite, has few parallels in leisurely sport. ‘Capturing’ a falling kite from the sky is considered akin to scalping and the loud-throated jeers that follow, signal bloody victory. With such zest for aerial frolics, it was no surprise that the people of Lahore thronged the roof tops when they heard the roar of jets overhead.

Changazi was the first to get his gunsight on the Hunter after out-manoeuvring it, despite a hung drop tank. After two short bursts from the Sabre’s guns the Hunter started emitting smoke, but desperate evasive manoeuvring continued for a while. Malik continued with a banter, which included a running commentary on what was going on; he noted with anxiety that the Hunter was still thrashing about despite his Leader’s relentless barrage. Changazi’s jugglery with the rudder finally offset the skid on the asymmetrically configured Sabre and, a volley landed squarely on his victim’s fuselage. The Hunter straightened out and fell into a listless dive, trailing thick black smoke. Chatterjee was apparently incapacitated as his aircraft plunged to the ground in Lahore’s Manawan locale[3], in full view of thousands of on-lookers.

The dramatic encounter got Malik so captivated that he forgot about ground control’s original report of four bogeys. The hitherto unseen Gnat pair had been lurking around, hoping for a chance pick-up on the Sabres. Majumdar and Khanna were doubly lucky, for not only had they caught the flash of the dogfighting aircraft, they were able to sneak behind the Sabres unnoticed. Changazi got an inkling of trouble when he heard the unmistakable noise of cannon-fire as bullets whizzed past his canopy. Aghast that the Gnats had closed in to firing range, he broke into a defensive turn. More appalling, however, his wingman was nowhere to be seen. Repeated calls to Malik went unanswered, though Jilani and Amanullah could be heard engaged with the other Hunter.

Prolonged absence from the cockpit had not dulled Changazi one bit, for he managed to shake off the agile little Gnats with ease. That, however, was hardly comforting; for the loss of his wingman had taken the sheen off his Hunter kill. Malik had, in fact, taken 30mm hits from Majumdar’s Gnat and his right wing and fuselage had been shattered, causing him to teeter on the verge of a spin. With his panels rattling, radio lost and cockpit full of smoke fumes, he desperately tried to stay aloft but to no avail. He was lucky enough to nurse the stricken aircraft away from the border and managed to eject over Lahore’s Harbanspura area; he was picked up without any major injury.

To the Lahorites, the thrill of watching aircraft come down like kites was almost juvenile. Oblivious of the identities of downed aircraft, they proclaimed spontaneous victory with their celebrated hoots. ‘Bo Kaata[4]’ was the refrain of the day, signalling another fallen kite. There were so many aircraft pirouetting in the skies, it seemed like a re-enactment of the annual kite-flying festival heralding the onset of Basant[5].

Jilani and Amanullah had, in the meantime, been engaged with the Hunter flown by Sharma. While they were turning to get him, another Hunter had fired from behind, causing Amanullah to break away viciously. With eight aircraft milling around, it was hard to tell exactly what was going on. Evidence, however, seems to suggest that it was Chatterjee who had tried a pot shot at Amanullah’s Sabre, before getting embroiled with Changazi. Furthermore, once the Gnats were through with downing Malik’s Sabre, they promptly rallied around a beleaguered Sharma who had tenaciously held off the attackers for quite a while.

The dogfight had now developed exactly on the lines of the just concluded one. Jilani had thus to act fast to shoot the Hunter or else, expect bullets from the Gnats’ cannon to whiz past any time. Happily for Jilani, the combat had degenerated to the slow speed regime where the Sabre excelled. Manoeuvring with well-honed skills, Jilani managed to place his gunsight on the Hunter’s fuselage and let loose a volley. The Hunter started to spew smoke but Sharma was able to nurse his stricken aircraft into friendly territory before ejecting near Katron.

The thrilling dogfight over the skies of Lahore was an apt finale to PAF’s splendid performance in the battle for air superiority. The 2-1 tally in PAF’s favour was gratifying indeed; however, the whole formation had to pay for Malik’s downing as none of the scoring pilots was rewarded for gallantry. The concept of group retribution had been stretched a bit far, but nevertheless, it did signify PAF’s regard for teamwork rather than individual glory. On the IAF’s side, Flt Lt Ajoy Kumar Mazumdar was awarded a well-deserved Vir Chakra for shooting down a Sabre. However, the downing of No 7 Squadron’s two Hunters added upto an atrocious total of eight aircraft lost in air combat, which was 50% of the Unit’s inventory. The fact that this was more than the entire PAF’s air combat losses[6], rightly established Lahorites’ victory cry as no rude jeer.

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[1] Bambanwala-Ravi-Bedian Link Canal.
[2] Malik shot down a Mystère-IVA flown by Flt Lt Babul Guha near Sargodha.
[3] The wreckage, along with the remains of the pilot were found near West Pakistan Textile Mills, located in the precincts of Manawan Police Station.
[4] Difficult to translate, the closest connotation would be, ‘there goes!’ More literally, it might mean, ‘there, it’s been cut.’
[5] Derived from ‘vasanta,’ the spring season of ancient Hindu calendar.
[6] During the 1965 Indo-Pak War, PAF lost 7 aircraft in aerial engagements against IAF’s 16.

Speed Shooting Classic

2008-11-20T08:53:00.017+05:00

The evening of 6th September 1965 saw mixed fortunes for the PAF after its pre-emptive strikes against IAF’s forward air bases. Pathankot had been administered a crippling blow, with ten aircraft destroyed and several more damaged on the ground[1]; however, the strikes against Adampur and Halwara proved largely futile. The latter strike was particularly costly, as PAF had lost two of its top pilots. The mood at Sargodha air base was therefore as vengeful as it was sombre.

Propping himself on a table in the oft-frequented bar, Sqn Ldr Muhammad Mahmood Alam, the plucky Squadron Commander of No 11 Squadron set the tone for the next day’s operations with a fiery oration. Addressing the fighter pilots of No 33 Wing who had huddled together in this popular hangout, Alam promised to avenge the blood of Rafiqui and Yunus, the two downed airmen of Sargodha. Only hours before, Alam had brought down a Hunter while leading a dusk strike that was intercepted on the way to Adampur. Brimming with confidence and enthusiasm, Alam assured the gathering that the Sabre could out-manoeuvre the Hunter, a proposition that did not have many takers thus far. Now, with a kill to prove his point, he bayed for more blood.

Sargodha came to be at the business end of IAF’s retaliatory strikes that commenced at dawn on 7th September. Just after the exit of the first Mystère raid, two pairs of Sabres and a singleton Starfighter were scrambled to replenish the ongoing Combat Air Patrols. Within a few minutes of getting airborne, they were directed by ground control towards an incoming raid. After flying eastwards for 10-15 minutes, they were told to turn back as the raiders were already overhead Sargodha. The time was 0547 hrs (PST).

Sqn Ldr D S Jog of No 27 Squadron based at Halwara, was leading a formation of five Hunters that included Sqn Ldr O N Kacker, Flt Lt D N Rathore, Flt Lt T K Choudhry and Flg Off P S Parihar. They had initially pulled up to attack Chota Sargodha[2], a disused, non jet-capable airstrip of World War II vintage, which somehow figured out as vital in IAF’s war plans. Unable to locate any aircraft, the formation turned for the main Sargodha Base which lay about eight miles east; however, with attack mechanics not quite under control, the Hunters ended up targeting ‘a factory-like installation’ which, as the Sargodhians would know, was Sultan Textile Mills! Beating a hasty exit through the barrage of Anti-Aircraft Artillery fire, the Hunters headed home but the mission was not quite over.

A pair of Sabres led by Flt Lt Imtiaz Bhatti swooped down on the two trailing Hunters but to his dismay, Bhatti found another pair of Sabres already in a dive, looking set to shoot. The redoubtable Alam and his wingman Flt Lt Masood Akhtar had beaten him to the ‘go for the bogeys’ call by Killer Control, an eagle-eyed lookout tasked to assist in visual sighting of raiders. Bhatti had to be content with being a grandstand spectator of what was to become a celebrated mission. The lone Starfighter flown by Flt Lt Arif Iqbal continued to perform its role of a ‘bouncer,’ keeping an eye for troublemakers in the area.

The rear pair of Hunters kept a good lookout and on spotting Alam’s Sabre, did a sharp defensive turn into him. Alam pulled up to avoid an overshoot and then repositioned again. Still out of gun range Alam pressed on, but with the Hunters doing a full power run, he settled for a missile shot against the last man. Firing a Sidewinder from a dive at very low altitude, Alam was not surprised to see it go into the ground. The best way of launching the early model Sidewinders at such altitudes was to get below the target and fire with a cooler sky for a background, thus easing the missile seeker’s heat discrimination problem. However, with the Hunters skimming the treetops, going any lower was out of question. Alam’s predicament was soon resolved when the Hunters pulled up to clear a stretch of high-tension cables. In good range, dead line astern and hearing a loud growl that signalled a positive heat source, Alam couldn’t have asked for better firing conditions. He let go his second Sidewinder, but didn’t see it hit directly. With an apparent proximity detonation, the missile warhead had dangerously ruptured the Hunter’s fuel lines. Jog’s formation members heard desperate messages of illuminated warning lights and engine rough-running from the stricken pilot. Overshooting the crippled Hunter, Alam noticed with amazement that its canopy was missing and there was no pilot inside. With other Hunters as well as his own wingman to keep an eye on, Alam had obviously missed the ejection sequence. Looking around, he noticed the pilot coming down by parachute. Bhatti, who was watching from a distance, recalls, “While Alam was chasing, I continued to look out for other Hunters as I hadn’t yet given up the prospects of achieving a kill. We were just short of the river when a flash in the sky caught my eye and I observed an aircraft go down in flames. I learnt later that the pilot had ejected shortly before the aircraft hit the ground.”

Sqn Ldr Onkar Nath Kacker had come down near Burjlal, a village (now abandoned) by the bank of Chenab River, about 25 miles south-east of Sargodha. Quick-witted, he got rid of his map and log card as well as the badges on his flying coveralls. As the villagers rushed towards him, he cleverly introduced himself as a PAF pilot. The gullible village folk, who had never seen a fighter pilot for real, were easily taken in. An instant hero, Kacker became the centre of adulation as large crowds gathered. Seeming to be in a hurry to get back to duty after a refreshing cup of tea, he demanded arrangements for a horse-ride till the main road so that he could flag a bus for his home Base, Sargodha! Kacker almost made a getaway but for a sharp-eyed villager, Imdad Hussain Shah, who noted Kacker’s demeanour with some suspicion. A smart check of the flying suit brand gave away the ‘Made in India’ label and, an ashen-faced Kacker found himself trussed up in front of the speechless villagers. A few hours later, a search party from Lalian Police Station arrived and mercifully, saved Kacker from a crowd that was angry and sneering by then. He spent the next five months as a POW[3].

Alam had lost sight of the other Hunters, but with ample fuel he was prepared to fly some distance to catch up with them. Soon after crossing the Chenab River, his wingman Akhtar called out, “Contact, Hunters one o’clock.” They were flying at 100-200 ft and around 480 knots. As Alam closed in to gunfire range, the Hunters did a half-hearted defensive turn which did nothing to spoil his aim; rather, it set them up in line astern for easy shooting in a row. Alam fired at the last Hunter against the glow of the rising sun and saw fuel spew out of the drop tanks, which had taken hits from the Sabre’s six guns. In a hurry to score fast, Alam shifted his aim ahead on to the next aircraft and fired another short burst. The Hunters seemed to fly across Alam’s gunsight like a gaggle of geese, and he obliged repeatedly, four times in all.

Headed towards Sargodha, Wg Cdr Toric Zachariah, Officer Commanding of No 7 Squadron based at Halwara, had been leading the third raid with five Hunters. The formation included Sqn Ldr A S Lamba, Sqn Ldr M M Sinha, Sqn Ldr S B Bhagwat and Flg Off J S Brar, the latter two performing the role of armed escorts. Flying at low level, they were expecting a criss-cross with No 27 Squadron Hunters that were on their way out. However, just after crossing Sangla Hill, Lamba noticed two Sabres at 11 o’clock position, about 4,000 ft high, diving down. He immediately ordered a hard turn to the left and Zachariah followed up with instructions to abort the mission and exit. Bhagwat and Brar, however, made the fatal mistake of engaging without jettisoning their external stores[4]. Weighed down by ordnance, the Hunters had no chance and were picked off in quick succession. The wrecks of the two aircraft along with the remains of the pilots were found in the fields near Siranwali Bulher and Chahoor Mughlian, two villages near the small town of Sangla Hill[5].

Jog’s formation meanwhile, collected itself and sped away, having miraculously survived Alam’s onslaught. Jog and his wingman Choudhry had, however, received hits and their aircraft were badly holed up, as they were to discover later after landing[6]. Rathore and Parihar had remained unscathed. The four Hunters that had been hit were, in fact, from different formations; by an amazing coincidence and bad timing, they had ended up in a horrific jumble!

No 27 Squadron’s egressing and No 7 Squadron’s ingressing formations were about a mile apart when they flew past each other’s port sides, near Sangla Hill. As Alam dived down upon Jog’s Hunters tail-on, Lamba had spotted Bhatti’s pair appearing at a frontal aspect; thinking that they were being attacked, he called a hard turn to the left. Once Alam was through with firing at Jog and Choudhry in about half a turn, Bhagwat and Brar were neatly placed in line of fire for the second half.

If Lamba had somehow known that Bhatti was really out of the fight, having had a hung drop tank a short while ago, No 7 Squadron’s strike could have pressed on. However, with Arif’s Starfighter lurking on top, the inevitable would only have been delayed a few more minutes. A warning call by Jog might have helped, but that was possible only if he had enough time to change over to Zachariah’s radio frequency. It all happened so fast that even Alam was confounded.

Zachariah’s pilots, as might have Jog’s, considered themselves fortunate that Alam wasn’t aware of the mass exodus that was under way. Unleashing his wingman could have doomed several more of the fleeing raiders. Nonetheless, three Hunters shot down and two damaged was not a bad tally, considering that for some anxious minutes, Alam and his wingman were up against nine of them!

Obviously pleased with himself, Alam announced to the radar controller that he had shot down five Hunters. An ace-in-a-mission must have sounded like a splendid achievement and, the news spread like wildfire right up to the highest echelons. Alam had barely stepped back in the squadron when Radio Pakistan announced the unparalleled feat of jet combat. The die had been cast; confirmation of the kills was now of little consequence. Alam’s prolific shooting in the war had, however, left a tidy balance in his account. Besides the ‘damages’ which, in the heat of combat got overestimated as kills, Alam went on to bag five aircraft[7] in just three dogfights, including the speed-shooting classic at Sangla Hill. For his superb performance in that mission, Alam was awarded a ‘Bar[8]’ to the Sitara-i-Jur’at that he had already earned a day earlier for his first successful encounter with the Hunters. He continues to remain the top-scoring pilot of the sub-continent, a region that has witnessed numerous dogfights in two major conflicts. Alam is rightly worthy of a place in the annals of air warfare as ‘one of the great aces of jet age[9].’

_________________________

[1] India’s Official History of Indo-Pak War, 1965 acknowledges ten aircraft destroyed and three damaged, during the Pathankot raid.
[2] IAF is uncertain if the strike reached Chota Sargodha, as gun camera ciné seems to suggest that the target may have been mistaken for Wegowal.
[3] Six surviving eyewitnesses of erstwhile Burjlal village (now relocated in Changranwala due to floods) were interviewed recently (2000). All clearly remembered having seen Kacker’s aircraft being hit, catching fire and, tail section breaking up, contrary to Kacker’s claim of experiencing an engine flame-out at exactly the same instant. Details of Kacker’s escape charade were narrated by surviving villagers. His POW interrogation report also recounts the incident.
[4] The wreckage of Bhagwat’s Hunter included ‘twelve bombs of various sizes,’ as recorded by security staff that seemed unfamiliar with aircraft ordnance; these were actually T-10 rockets. This important configuration detail seems to have been overlooked in Carless’ painting as well.
[5] The remains of Sqn Ldr Bhagwat were taken away by officials of Sangla Hill Police Station and buried in its precincts; those of Flg Off Brar were buried in Acre # 21, Square # 56, now belonging to Mr Noor Muhammad of Siranwali Bulher village.
[6] IAF accounts state that Jog and Choudhry saw the Sabre fire at them and they took evasive action. The timing of the Sabre’s attack is, however, incorrectly stated as being just after the exit from Sargodha. Alam fired his guns four times in succession near Sangla Hill only and, not on any other occasion. No other pilot fired his guns during the engagement.
[7] Alams kills:
– 6th Sep, One Hunter, Sqn Ldr Ajeet Kumar Rawlley, No 7 Squadron, KIA, near Tarn Taran.
– 7th Sep, Three Hunters; Sqn Ldr Onkar Nath Kacker, No 27 Squadron, POW, Burjlal; Sqn Ldr Suresh B Bhagwat and Flg Off Jagdev Singh Brar, No 7 Squadron, KIA, near Sangla Hill.
– 16th Sep, One Hunter, Flg Off Farokh Dara Bunsha, No 7 Squadron, KIA, near Amritsar.
[8] A metallic ‘bar’ on a ribbon denotes an additional award.
[9] Tribute by Jon Guttman in ‘Pakistan’s Sabre Ace,’ Aviation History, Sep 1998.

Mystery of the Downed Mystère

2008-11-20T08:30:00.011+05:00

At the IAF Headquarters in Delhi, the Air Staff mulled over the response to PAF’s pre-emptive strikes of 6th September 1965 and came up with a belated plan to hit Sargodha. With Pathankot still nursing its wounds, it fell to the lot of Adampur and Halwara to spearhead IAF’s retaliation. Mystères[1] from Adampur were to open the proceedings on the dawn of 7th September. As the orders got delegated, Wg Cdr O P Taneja, Officer Commanding of No 1 Squadron was assigned to lead the first twelve-ship raid on Sargodha, while Sqn Ldr ‘Mickey’ Jatar of No 8 Squadron was to lead an eight-ship attack against Bhagtanwala. Both strikes had a planned Time-On-Target of 0530 hrs (PST), which was about fifteen minutes before sunrise, barely bright for accurate navigation and weapons delivery.

Despite marginal visibility, Jatar’s formation managed to reach Bhagtanwala; however, it turned out to be an exercise in futile rocketing and strafing of decoys at an emergency landing strip, which had been erroneously believed to be fully operational. A safe exit by the full complement was the only worthwhile achievement of No 8 Squadron.

Taneja’s raid was eventful though, with things starting to happen soon after take-off. Even before they had formed up in a stream of three sections of four Mystères each, two aircraft from the second section developed snags and aborted. The ground reserve, Sqn Ldr A B Devayya, was called up to fill in. Shortly thereafter, the third section had to abort the mission after its leader, Sqn Ldr Sudarshan Handa[2], lost visual contact with the formation ahead and drifted off course.

Although Sargodha had already launched a Combat Air Patrol of two Sabres and a lone Starfighter, the first inkling of IAF’s arrival was the sight of six Mystères pulling up to deliver their attack at 0538 hrs (PST). Taneja’s raid had achieved complete surprise and Sargodha lay at the mercy of No 1 Squadron. “The first we knew about the raid was when we heard the thunder of rockets followed by the stutter of cannon,” recollected Gp Capt Zafar Masud, Station Commander Sargodha.

As at other operational bases, Sargodha too had its squadron of wooden decoys. Taneja’s pilots were quick to train their guns and rockets on the enticing dummies, one of which obligingly caught fire. Implausible as it may seem, six of the real planes escaped unscathed, despite being dangerously exposed at the Operational Readiness Platform. Throwing away a singular opportunity of avenging Pathankot’s battering, the Mystères pulled out of their attack and exited.

Just as the six Mystères were re-forming on their way out, the lone reserve Mystère piloted by Devayya streamed in. Surviving the Anti Aircraft Artillery fire, which by now had become quite intense and focused, he carried out a quick attack and scurried off at low level. Flt Lt Amjad Hussain Khan of No 9 Squadron, who had been flying the Starfighter, was ‘vectored’ by Sakesar radar to catch up with the raid exiting south-east; obviously, the first target he saw was the straggler, Sqn Ldr Devayya’s Mystère.

Charging in at great speed, Amjad got behind Devayya’s low-flying Mystère and let loose a Sidewinder missile, only to see it plonk into the ground. With a poor heat discrimination capability, the first generation heat-seekers could not tell the difference between jet exhaust and hot terrain. Amjad had taken a chance at a mile-long shot but as he closed in, he switched to the deadly six-barrelled Vulcan revolver-cannon. Its 20mm bullets fired at such a tremendous rate that inside the cockpit, it sounded like a piece of canvas was being ripped up. Amjad recalls that as he opened fire, the bullets didn’t quite land on the aircraft. Realising that his pipper was a bit off-target he corrected and fired again. The Mystère broke to the right, appearing to pass through the steady stream of bullets. Certain that the stricken aircraft was doomed, Amjad broke off to improve his tally.

On the lookout for other Mystères, Amjad soon spotted one that was turning for him. To give himself enough manoeuvring room, Amjad pulled up for a ‘yo-yo’ bouncing upto 7,000 ft and then down to low level again. As he tried to get behind the Mystère, Amjad realised that he was up against a very determined pilot who was unwilling to give any quarter. Amjad was forced to do another ‘yo-yo’ to prevent an overshoot. The fight dragged on for a while and, with a series of turns into each other, developed into a classic ‘scissors’ manoeuvre. Manoeuvrability is not what the Starfighter was designed for. With diminutive, razor-sharp wings and a powerful engine, it could substitute as a rocket for astronaut training. However, the thin wings were woefully inadequate for agility required in the severe world of air combat. This lesson drove home late for Amjad as he pressed the trigger a moment too long for a shot of opportunity, while crossing the Mystère’s tail. With little residual lift available for manoeuvring and high rate of closure, the inevitable happened — the Starfighter rammed into the Mystère! His controls frozen, Amjad ejected with barely enough time for the parachute to blossom fully.

At Kot Nakka, a village about five miles south of Pindi Bhattian, people were starting their daily chores when they heard the sound of jets. Recalls Bashir Ahmed, who was then 37 years old, “two aircraft approached from the direction of Sargodha and got into a turning fight for several minutes. Then the rear aircraft started firing its cannon; it was, however, so fast that it collided with the front one. We saw the pilot of the rear aircraft come down by parachute; it was later learnt that his name was Amjad. The other aircraft went down across Jhang canal close to Hinduana village. Its pilot did not eject and was killed.” Like Bashir, many other residents of Kot Nakka saw the collision[3]. According to them, the PAF pilot had heroically rammed his aircraft when he ran out of ammunition, a lore that survives to this day! After a regal horse ride till the village, Amjad was taken in a procession to Pindi Bhattian where he was applauded as a hero and profusely garlanded. Back to Sargodha by helicopter, Amjad was up for action the same evening.

Devayya had, in fact, survived the first volley of bullets and his aircraft was in control. Undaunted, he had chosen to fight on though he would hardly have enough fuel left to land back safely; but Devayya was destined never to return. Apparently incapacitated by the impact of the collision, he was unable to eject. His body was found intact, thrown clear of the wreckage; it was later buried by the villagers in the nearby fields[4].

Back at Adampur, an anxious Taneja kept waiting for Devayya so that he could join the mission debrief. Everyone hoped that Devayya was taking his time in No 32 Squadron Flight Lines while returning their borrowed aircraft. On inquiry from the Flight Lines, suspicions were confirmed that all was not well. With no details from any quarter, Devayya was eventually listed as missing in action.

Declared dead after a year as per regulations, Devayya would have remained an unsung hero had it not been, ironically, for John Fricker’s book Battle for Pakistan - The Air War of 1965, which was published in 1979. Retired Gp Capt Taneja read the details of Amjad’s dogfight with a ‘second’ Mystère with disbelief. He knew better that no other pilot had had air combat with a Starfighter that fateful morning, so it could be none other than Devayya. He reported the matter to Air Headquarters but no one moved.

The issue got taken up earnestly only in 1987 when retired Air Cdre Pritam Singh, a former Gnat pilot, came across Fricker’s book while researching for the Defence Ministry’s Official History of Indo-Pak War, 1965. With the help of Taneja and his formation members, Pritam pieced together scarce evidence to solve the mystery of the downed Mystère. Reading much into Fricker’s graphic description of how a Mystère was able to outmanoeuvre Amjad’s Starfighter and shoot it down[5], Pritam and Taneja made the cardinal mistake of relying only on one source and jumping to a conclusion. Fricker had, for the most part, hazarded a guess that was supposed to be a more plausible explanation, in contrast to Amjad’s claim of having ‘flown through the debris of his exploding victim.’ If only field research had received due consideration in Fricker’s work, the evidence of numerous eye-witnesses would have led to the right conclusion a long time ago.

For many decades the famous dogfight has confounded historians and air enthusiasts alike. The respective Air Forces cited both pilots for courage as well as their shooting skills. Flt Lt Amjad Hussain was awarded the Sitara-i-Jur’at soon after the war. Sqn Ldr Ajjamada Bopayya Devayya was posthumously awarded the Maha Vir Chakra in April 1988, after a passage of 23 years. Not withstanding the inexactitude of Devayya’s citation, it can be said that the medals are testimony to the dogged determination of two air knights, who gave their best in this truly classic duel.

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[1] Mystère means ‘mystery’ in French.
[2] Handa repeated the strike a few hours later causing some damage at Sargodha; this included destruction of a Sabre, the only PAF aircraft lost on the ground during the war.
[3] Seven surviving eyewitnesses of Kot Nakka village were interviewed recently (2000). None of them had any doubt about firing by the Starfighter, followed by the mid-air collision.
[4] Devayya’s body was buried in Acre # 3367 (adjacent to Jhang Branch Canal, near Hinduana village) now belonging to Mr Mohammad Ali of Kot Nakka village.
[5] Given the considerable bit of envy evoked by the ‘F-104 dandies,’ it is entirely possible that Fricker may have been fed the story of Amjad’s ‘shooting down’ by some disconsolate character.

This article is an excerpted chapter from Air Cdre Kaiser Tufail's book, Great Air Battles of Pakistan Air Force, published by Ferozsons (Pvt) Ltd, 2005.

Theirs But to Do and Die

2008-11-20T08:18:00.019+05:00

With the launching of the Indian counter-stroke at Lahore-Kasur front on the morning of 6th September 1965, neutralisation of the PAF should have been a logical first step. Inexplicably, the PAF was allowed to operate with impunity, which ultimately led to the petering out of 15 Division’s thrust towards Lahore. The IAF, it seemed, was bewildered by its Army’s guarded response and it took a costly twenty-four hours to come to grips with the situation. If only the IAF had struck Sargodha where over half of PAF’s fighter assets were housed, the General Officer Commanding, Maj Gen Niranjan Prasad may well have been having his avowed victory bash at Lahore Gymkhana that evening.

Strong on the heels of its air support to ground troops in Lahore, the PAF decided to follow up with pre-emptive strikes against Indian airfields and radars. The lynch pin of War Plan No 6 of June 1965, it called for neutralising vital elements of the IAF at the onset of hostilities. An ambitious plan that featured late afternoon (TOT 1700 hrs PST) strafing raids against four airfields and three radars was chalked out; it involved 46 aircraft from Peshawar, Mauripur and Sargodha. In the event, a host of factors militated against the plan; these included demands for air support to the Army, major air defence commitments and reduced aircraft availability due to battle damage and other unserviceabilities. Sargodha, which was to provide the bulk of the aircraft, had to have its fleet augmented with twelve Sabres and six T-33s from Mauripur. When they did arrive, it was too late for rectification of serious defects with some of the Sabres. Worse yet, the Sabres had been despatched unarmed and, it had been left to the Maintenance Wing at Sargodha to speed-load over 21,000 rounds in the 72 guns! Despite all the efforts, Sargodha was able to produce only twelve Sabres to target Adampur and Halwara airfields and Amritsar radar. The Station Commander Sargodha, Gp Capt Zafar Masud called up the C-in-C to inform him that only four aircraft each would be available for the three targets and suggested that the whole operation be delayed by 24 hours. This would allow preparation of the entire complement, besides giving a breather to the more experienced aircrew that had had a hectic day and were to lead again.

The exigency of wresting the initiative seemed to have become almost an obsession with the Air Staff. To a certain extent, the fear of IAF delivering the first blow was not totally unfounded and, it weighed heavily during the tense deliberations that afternoon. With the Peshawar Sabres all set to attack Pathankot, and Mauripur B-57s standing by to follow up with night strikes, the inclination to go ahead was further reinforced. Gp Capt Masud was therefore ordered to proceed without any more discussion.

Exasperated but not wholly discouraged, Masud called up the Assistant Chief of Air Staff (Operations), Air Cdre A Rahim Khan and urged that eight aircraft should be despatched against a single airfield instead of being split between Adampur and Halwara. Alerted by the Pathankot strike that had taken-off earlier, other airfields would have been swarming with interceptors; the meagre four-ship packages would thus have little chance of getting through[1]. Rahim discussed the idea with the C-in-C who remained adamant about attacking both the airfields. Once again, an ostensibly reasonable suggestion was turned down. The strain of the day’s proceedings was quite evident in the fateful decision.

Tribulations seemed no end for PAF’s star-crossed strike plan. When the eight aircraft finally started up at Sargodha, one was found to be unserviceable and there were no reserves. The final unserviceability of yet another Sabre just before take-off, was good enough reason to have concentrated against a single airfield, but the die had been cast.

Led by Sqn Ldr Sarfaraz A Rafiqui, with Flt Lt Cecil Choudhry as No 2 and Flt Lt Yunus Hussain as No 3, the three-ship formation of No 5 Squadron hurtled across into enemy territory in the fast fading light. Sqn Ldr M M Alam’s formation, also of three aircraft, which had taken-off ten minutes earlier, was returning after an abortive raid on Adampur. Four Hunters, themselves proceeding on a mission against Pak Army formations, had bounced them. Rafiqui was warned by Alam’s section to watch out for Hunters in the area.

At Halwara, IAF's No 7 Squadron equipped with Hunters had flown four strikes during the day. These were armed reconnaissance missions, which had little success in finding worthwhile targets. The fourth and last strike for the day was on its way to the precincts of Lahore, when it had encountered Alam’s formation near Tarn Taran. In that engagement Sqn Ldr A K Rawlley’s Hunter impacted the ground while Alam fired at him from astern. The remaining three Hunters aborted the mission and were taxiing back after landing, when Rafiqui’s formation pulled up for the attack at 1753 hrs (PST).

That evening, two pairs of Hunter Combat Air Patrols were airborne from Halwara – one from No 7 Squadron with Flg Off P S Pingale and Flg Off A R Ghandhi and the other from No 27 Squadron with Flt Lt D N Rathore and Flg Off V K Neb. Pingale and Ghandhi were in a left-hand orbit over the airfield when Rafiqui broke off his attack and closed in on the nearest aircraft. Rafiqui’s guns, as usual, found their mark. Pingale, not sure what hit him, lost control of his Hunter and ejected. Next, Rafiqui deftly manoeuvred behind Ghandhi and fired at him, registering some hits. Just then, Cecil heard his Squadron Commander call over the radio, “Cecil, my guns have stopped firing, you have the lead.” Cecil promptly moved in to lead, with Rafiqui sliding back as wingman. Ghandhi did not let go of the momentary slack and manoeuvred behind Rafiqui who was readjusting in his new position. Ghandhi fired at Rafiqui’s Sabre, but couldn’t get him because of a careless aim[2]. While Ghandhi followed the Sabre, Cecil bored in and shot him in turn, the bullets finding their mark on the left wing. Seeing his aircraft come apart, Ghandhi ejected near the airfield.

Running out of fuel as well as daylight, Rafiqui deemed it prudent to exit. Gathering his formation, he headed north-west, but with two more Hunters lurking around, a get away wasn’t easy. Happy on home ground, Rathore and Neb dived in to give chase. Rathore got behind Rafiqui who was on the right while Neb singled out Yunus on the left. Overtaking rapidly, Rathore fired from about 600 yards registering some hits. Closing in still further he fired again, this time mortally hitting Rafiqui’s Sabre. It banked sharply to the left and then dove into the ground near Heren village, some six miles from Halwara[3].

Meanwhile, Cecil looked around and noticing Yunus in trouble called a defensive break. Yunus responded, but for some incomprehensible reason pulled upwards, assisting Neb to catch up. Neb did not let go of the chance and fired a well-aimed volley, which Yunus did not survive. A puff of smoke rapidly turned into a sheet of flame as the Sabre disintegrated in mid air and fell to the ground. Left alone, Cecil fought his way out and dashed across after a nerve-racking encounter.

At Halwara, consternation was short-lived as Pingale and Ghandhi were promptly picked up from the airfield vicinity. At Sargodha however, things remained confused for some time. Two pilots of the Adampur strike had landed at Risalewala due to shortage of fuel, but for anxious hours, were considered as missing. Then there were conflicting reports about Rafiqui; according to one, he had somehow managed to make it across and was in a military hospital in Lahore. Perhaps the rumour was churned out as a palliative to lessen the anguish over the loss of the highly popular Rafiqui. Confirmation of Rafiqui and Yunus’s demise left Sargodha with a sentiment of culpability for having despatched them for a dangerous mission. Cecil recounted later that Rafiqui had accepted the mission orders unflinchingly, despite the odds. “It is a one way trip, I am sure about that,” Rafiqui had tragically guessed while waiting at the flight lines as the aircraft were being readied for the mission. “Why don’t you discuss it with the authorities?” asked Cecil. It was obvious that the significance of the mission was not lost on Rafiqui, when he replied, “It is an order, I can’t do that.” The answer was reminiscent of Tennyson’s famous refrain[4]:

Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.

For his bold leadership, Rafiqui was awarded the coveted Hilal-i-Jur’at, while Yunus and Cecil won a Sitara-i-Jur’at each. On the IAF side, Rathore, Neb and Ghandhi were awarded a Vir Chakra each for a successful effort at saving Halwara from a battering at the hands of a brave, but hapless PAF trio.

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[1] Visual recce sorties by two Starfighters over Adampur and Halwara earlier in the afternoon are also certain to have given away PAF’s intentions.
[2] While Ghandhi claimed shooting down Rafiqui’s Sabre, the Indian Official History Indo-Pak War, 1965 does not credit him on grounds that the wreckage was nowhere in the vicinity of the airfield, as maintained by Ghandhi.
[3] Rafiqui’s body was found intact, thrown clear of the wreckage. This was confirmed by Flg Off Mohinder Vir Singh in his interrogation report while a POW, after being shot down on 8th Sep ‘65. According to him, the Flight Surgeon who had been to the crash site had related that the body of ‘a tall, brown-eyed PAF Squadron Leader’ had been found a few yards from the wreckage. An unconfirmed report states that the body was buried in accordance with Muslim rites. The wreckage of Rafiqui’s Sabre #52-5248 alongwith Yunus’s #53-1173 lies in IAF Museum at Palam.
[4] The Charge of the Light Brigade , Lord Tennyson (1854).