THE GARUD STRIKES (11 page)

‘My company reached Kodda by 0700 hours on 2nd December. It was daylight already, but visibility was almost nil due to a thick fog. That was good for us, otherwise the Pakistani Artillery OP’s would have wreaked havoc on us,’ narrated Paunchy, who’d been commanding Alpha Company. ‘Despite the safety blanket of the fog, the last few hours had been hellish. It is funny now when one thinks of it, but I can clearly remember when we had been back in our base and I had been giving orders for our task to my company ‘O’ group. It had all seemed so simple then. Kodda was a nice little dot on the map, about five kilometres inside enemy territory, beckoning us. And the Titas river just a lovely blue line wavering curvaceously across the terrain. It had no water, no slush! It was just a wavy blue line, not at all daunting.’

He lapsed into silence as his mind went back to all those years, and to that tiny, unremarkable company command post in some now forgotten, unmarked place along the border. I found myself holding my breath, scared to do anything that might disrupt his march down memory lane.

Half of Alpha Company had already crossed Kodda, a longish village. Paunchy was halfway through the village when they spotted a Pakistani Razakkar. He was even more startled than they were. Then the Razakkar tried to make a run for it, but one of the guardsmen tripped him and he went down sprawling. Realizing that they could not be far from the main Pakistani position, and would be in serious trouble if the enemy soldier raised an alarm, Paunchy pushed his gun barrel into the man’s chest and shot him. The muffled shot went unheard by the Pakistani defenders.

Paunchy’s laugh was mixed; part upset, part bewilderment. Perhaps still stunned by the ease with which he had killed another human being.

It is not as though any of the commanders had underestimated the problem of getting eight hundred plus men, in full battle gear, with their arms, ammunition and a dozen other things that an Army carries into battle, across the Titas.

‘How are we going to cross the river, sahib?’ guardsman Veer Singh of Alpha Company had been forthright enough to ask his Company Commander.

Paunchy gave a wry laugh. ‘Veer didn’t realize that his guess was as good as mine. Plans made in the sanctuary of the operations room seem so simple and do-able. But walking the talk?’ He gave me a level look. ‘The entire operation of finding a gap in the enemy defences, then going around their defences, deep into enemy territory, and then clearing some well planned defences and finally taking up position, with the enemy swarming all around us…’ he broke off with another half-laugh. ‘While giving orders, it had all been summed up in one simple statement — encircle Akhaura and establish a block at Kodda. When you put it like that, it sounds so simple, doesn’t it,’ he shrugged. ‘I guess it is what it is!’

Paunchy was savvy enough to know that much would depend not just on the answer he gave to Veer Singh, but the confidence and panache with which he gave it. ‘We will swim across it, of course,’ he had replied, his tone ringing with the confidence that has been the hallmark of guardsmen down the ages. Nothing in his tone communicated even an iota of the apprehension that was coursing through him. He had studied and reconnoitered the river in detail, and knew that getting a combat-ready company across it was going to be a monumental task.

Fully loaded, each man would be toting fifty-plus kilograms on his person. The battle-load (of ammunition, rations and other essential supplies) constituted another several tons. All of this had to be taken across the river. The country boats or streamers that normally ran ferry across the river were under the control of the Pakistani Army. The folding boats available to the Indian troops could be used to ferry only a part of the most critical ammunition and supplies.

Adding to the complexity was the fact that the entire operation had to be carried out under cover of darkness; and therefore time was seriously short, since the sun rises early in this, the eastern part of the subcontinent.

And of course, all this would be done under the merciless shadow of the enemy’s guns.

But Paunchy, like the others, was also aware that no matter what the odds, it had to be done. There was no choice. It was now no longer just a task, but a matter of regimental izzat or honour. No shame could be allowed to fall on the Garud.

If Veer Singh was taken aback or amused by the answer, he hid it well. With ten years of service under this belt, and a hundred years of Guards’ tradition in his heart, Veer Singh was also fully aware that his apprehensions and anxiety would be contagious. He knew that he had to stand by his Company Commander and show conviction in his decision by taking the lead himself. Which is why, when they hit the edge of the river, Veer Singh was the first man from his platoon to enter the water.

The water was freezing and the river was shrouded with a thick layer of mist, reducing visibility to a few measly feet. Of course, just hours later, this same mist would prove to be their saving grace, by preventing the Pakistanis from bringing down aimed fire on them. But that was later. Right now it made the going miserable.

‘Within minutes, everything had gone numb,’ Paunchy mused. ‘We went in cold and numb and came out muddy, wet and even more numb.’

Not the most glorious of starts for a war that history would later remember as one of the greatest military victories for the Indian Army.

‘War can be a real bitch,’ Paunchy remarked in a solemn, understated manner.

Granthi arrived in Delta Company and took charge within minutes of Major Vijay Uppal being evacuated. The loss of their commander and the spate of casualties so early in the game had dampened the morale of the company. It had also ignited a lot of anger, and the men were eager to avenge their fallen comrades.

Despite their best efforts, Delta Company was unable to infiltrate across to Chandi, their objective, since the Pakistanis were holding a position enroute.

‘We were going along when suddenly I saw a man in front of me. For a second, I thought he was one of ours. I then realized it was a Pakistani soldier. He was right there, in my face, barely a few feet away,’ Granthi looked equally surprised.

The Pakistani was shocked by the group of men who erupted out of the fog suddenly. He had been on Listening Post (LP) duty with another of his comrades.

‘Obviously they had not been taking their task seriously or they would have heard us coming. Even his rifle was lying on the ground about five feet away from him. He ran for the rifle but one of my havaldars shot him,’ Granthi said as a matter of fact. ‘The second man on LP duty with him must have gone around the corner or something. Perhaps he heard the shot and ran away, because we never came across him.’

Delta Company continued probing ahead in the fog. Almost immediately, they ran into another Pakistani post.

‘It seemed to be a small one,’ Granthi explained. ‘We could hear them talking to each other and could make out that there were not too many of them.’

Captain Maninder, the Delta Company 2IC, who was with the leading platoon, called out, asking the Pakistanis to surrender.

‘I heard them hurl abuses in reply,’ Granthi gave a mischevious grin. ‘They were also speaking in Punjabi.’

In addition to abusing them, the Pakistanis must have also called for artillery support because minutes later, Delta Company ran into a renewed hailstorm of artillery fire. Amongst those wounded was the company 2IC, the enterprising young Captain Maninder.

By now, daylight was already upon them. And the fog too had started thinning out. It would not be long before the fog dissipated completely, leaving the guardsmen without cover, and exposed. Unable to move ahead to Chandi, Granthi conferred with Paunchy.

‘The artillery fire was pretty accurate despite the fog. I realized it would be suicidal for Delta Company to try and cross the five hundred odd metres of open ground, which lay between us and Chandi, so I told Granthi to dig in behind my company, till such time as the Old Man fetched up and we figured out what to do next,’ Paunchy said.

The two were conferring when they heard the rumbling of tanks, a sound dreaded by every infantryman, especially those whose anti-tank weapons have yet to fetch up. Delta Company frantically began to dig in.

Alpha Company had barely gone fifty metres from the place where Paunchy had shot the Razakar when they stumbled into the schoolyard at Kodda. Mustering there were a group of Pakistani Razakars, perhaps for the morning report.

‘My olive green uniform had by now turned khaki with all the mud, so they must have mistaken me for one of their officers, because one of them, perhaps an NCO, marched up to give me the report. My men had also come up to the schoolyard and we surrounded them. We immediately disarmed the whole lot, but then not knowing what to do with them, since we had no resources to take them prisoners, I told them to run away. They did, pretty eagerly,’ Paunchy grinned.

By now the fog had started to lift, and the leading elements of Alpha Company had made contact with the main Pakistani position at Kodda. There were some enemy soldiers defending the small bridge on the Akhaura-Brahmanbaria railway track and some more on the bigger bridge.

Paunchy knew how important the bridges were. Crucial, since the railway line formed the vital link between Akhaura and Brahmanbaria. The Pakistanis were also using the railway embankment as a road; it was elevated, level and firm enough for their vehicles.

The Titas river flowing alongside was yet another critical communication artery for the movement of troops and supplies. So getting control of these bridges would not only enable the Indian forces to dominate all three of the communication channels and cut off the defenders, but also allow the Indian Army to move their administrative echelons forward far more easily. That was imperative for any sustainable operation in the heartland.

The Pakistanis, as yet, seemed unaware that the Indians had closed in so much, and in such strength. Perhaps that is why their response had so far been largely restricted to defensive artillery fire. Alpha Company immediately went to ground.

‘Intelligence had told us that there were about twenty to twenty-three Razakars guarding the small bridge, and a section of Pakistani regulars supported by some more Razakars securing the bigger bridge,’ said Paunchy. ‘However, there were many more. In fact, eventually we took close to two hundred Razakars as prisoners at Kodda that day.’

Tasking Number Three platoon, commanded by Naib Subedar Desraj, to clear and secure the smaller bridge, Paunchy headed for the bigger bridge, about seven hundred metres to the east, with the rest of the Company.

Naik Ram Khilawan Singh, an ex-mortar man, and now the Commander of Number One Section, was one of the first men to reach the bridge. With the element of surprise on their side, the guardsmen soon had the bridge under their control. The handful of Razakars who did not fall to the guns of the guardsmen fled after a cursory resistance.

Desraj rapidly deployed two sections of his platoon on the eastern side of the embankment, towards Kodda, and his third section on the western side of the embankment, so that it could dominate the river.