Memories of 1971 Indo-Pak War

In October 1971, I was serving as an instructor in Signal School, INS Venduruthy, Cochin (now Kochi). I had gone to Bombay (now Mumbai) to participate in the Navy Golf followed by the Inter-Service championship as a member of the Navy team. On my return to Cochin, I was urgently summoned by my OIC, Cdr ‘Clinker’ Karve, who told me that I had been appointed as Fleet Communications Officer (FCO), Eastern Fleet. As there was no such fleet at that time, I requested him to stop pulling my leg and let me rest after a tiring train journey. He explained that this was no joke, a new Fleet had been formed and I should pack up my bags and take the next train to Vishakhapatnam (Vizag).

With a warlike situation developing with Pakistan and possibilities of operations in the Bay of Bengal, the Naval Headquarters had decided to divide the hitherto single Indian Fleet into two with the Western Fleet based at Bombay and the Eastern Fleet at Vizag. I was therefore to join the staff of the Flag Officer Commanding Eastern Fleet (FOCEF) RAdm SH Sarma.

We had hardly settled down in a temporary office in the naval base at Vizag when we were told that we had to embark on Vikrant for exercises as the Chief of the Naval Staff (CNS),  Adm SM Nanda, wanted to watch the new Fleet in action. Vikrant was at sea off Vizag, so we had to board the ship by helicopter. We were told that we were going on board for a day or two but as the stay could get longer, we should carry an extra set of uniform and the evening mess dress, the Red Sea rig. So with two sets of uniform, the evening wear and a pajama suit, we choppered on to the carrier.

It was the first time that the new fleet staff got together to conduct exercises and that too watched by the CNS and the C-in-C Eastern Naval Command (FOC-in-C East), VAdm N Krishnan. Luckily we gelled well and the big brass was satisfied that the fleet was in good hands and the ships ready for action. CNS and FOC-in-C choppered back ashore and we were left on board for what would turn out to be almost 2 months!

We were ordered to proceed to Port Blair and keep the Fleet battleworthy. We kept exercising at sea and as a carrier group, the main accent was on air operations and anti-submarine warfare as we knew that Vikrant was a prize target for Pakistan which had a submarine, the Ghazi, capable of operating in the Bay of Bengal, far from her base in Karachi. We were also aware that Pakistan had a fairly extensive network of intercepting high frequency (HF) radio transmissions, the usual method of ship-shore communications in those days and concealing the position of Vikrant was our chief concern. We, therefore, tried to completely avoid such transmissions at sea while making use was of landline sources while in harbour. This was easy while we were in Port Blair as it is a naval base with good communication facilities.

Towards the end of November, when war seemed imminent, we were moved off to Port Cornwallis, the northernmost island in the Andamans, so that we could launch air attacks on the then East Pakistan within a few hours. We had logistic requirements but not wanting to break radio silence, I decided to proceed ashore by boat to find the island police wireless station to transmit our signal traffic to NHQ/ENC. Not having much to do in harbour, Adm Sarma decided to accompany me. When we landed ashore, we discovered that the wireless station was miles away on the other side of the island. Just then a jeep happened to drive by. We stopped and with some bullying by the Admiral who blared out the exercise of presidential powers in an emergency, we managed to convince the reluctant driver to take us to the police station, clear our messages and drop us back to the jetty.
Later, we discovered how effective our radio policy was. The Pak Navy did not know our uptodate location and Ghazi was off Vizag while we had already moved within striking distance of East Pakistan. As we know, Ghazi was sunk off Vizag soon after the war started.

While waiting for action, the large flight deck of Vikrant provided good opportunity for physical activity. Unique, however, was the use of the quarterdeck for golf. The ship had a number of keen senior golfers like the second-in-command, Cdr HML (Bhaisahib) Saxena and the Engineer Officer Cdr BR (Billoo) Chowdhry apart from Lt MB (Mike) Bhada and self. Mats and nets were rigged up to allow fullblooded drives while buckets were used for pitching in golf balls!

The order to attack the airfield at Cox's Bazar came on the night of 3 December and the next morning, air attacks were carried out by Vikrant's Seahawk aircraft. Before the first sortie, the atmosphere on the carrier was electric and tense, not knowing what awaited our pilots. The mood changed to ecstasy when they came back all intact after successful strikes. I recall the Squadron Cdr, Lt Cdr SK (Gigi) Gupta, being garlanded and hoisted on the shoulders of his colleagues and taken all around the flight deck like an Olympic champion! Thereafter, air attacks were mounted relentlessly on Pak ships, naval and port facilities in Chittagong, Khulna, Mongla and Chalna harbours.

The Fleet action resulted in an effective blockade in the Bay of Bengal preventing any supplies from reaching East Pakistan and escape of Pak troops and ships. This was a huge factor that led to the surrender of 93000 Pak troops headed by Lt Gen AK Niazi and the resultant birth of Bangladesh.
While the operations were in progress, the submarine threat was ever present as we learnt of the sinking of the Ghazi only towards the end of the operations and could not totally discount the possibility of another submarine in the area. Shallow waters, sea turbulence and shoals of fish often resulted in sonars sounding submarine and even torpedo warnings. High speed being an anti-submarine measure, Vikrant would often rev up to its maximum speed of a paltry18 knots resulting in the ship shuddering and straining which would alarm all on board of an imminent threat.

Having softened the enemy through air attacks, preparations were on for amphibious landing of troops at Cox's Bazar. A number of naval and merchant ships carrying army troops were converging off the landing site. In the midst of all this, we received a signal from the landing ship Magar, "Periscope sighted, confirm friendly." Because of the heavy signal traffic and incorrect precedence, the message reached us after about 45 minutes. We knew that none of our submarines were in that area, so if there was a submarine it would be Pak's and defenceless Magar would by now be toast! Fortunately, it turned out that Magar had mistaken a fishing stake in tidal waters for a periscope and was quite safe. However, the signal, broadcast as it was for all to receive, resulted in the landing units scattering all over. It took quite some time to get everyone back on track and delayed the landings by a couple of days.

The entry of the US Seventh Fleet into the Bay of Bengal was a cause for concern. CO Beas, Cdr L Ramdas (later CNS) made a signal to FOCEF asking what action should be taken on encountering the US Fleet. The reply of the Admiral was classic, "Exchange identities and wish them the time of day!" As we know, the US Fleet never came anywhere near us and was only meant to frighten us in which it completely failed.

Came 16 December and the Pak troops surrendered and Bangladesh was born. The job done, Vikrant was told to return and received a tumultous welcome in Madras (Chennai), its first port after the war. A number of gallantry awards were won by its personnel led by MVCs for the CO, Capt Swaraj Parkash and the Seahawk squadron commander, Gigi Gupta.

While Vikrant was told to return, FOCEF received personal instructions from CNS to disembark and proceed to Chittagong to supervise clearance of mines from the harbour channel so that ships could operate safely. Vikrant's choppers put us down on land with our two sets of cotton uniforms in pretty cold weather. We spent two days in Agrabad Hotel which was expensive before organising makeshift arrangements at the deserted Chittagong naval base. Messing was in the landing ship Gharial which because of its shallow draught had managed to enter harbour.

Our problem was that we did not have any minesweepers to do the sweeping! Intelligence had told us that the mines were of the ground variety and had been randomly laid. After much deliberation, it was decided to requisition two fishing boats and trawl a thick wire between them hopefully to catch any mines. Bikash Ghosh, the FTASO, scoured the market till he got a suitable piece of wire. Thereafter, he in one boat and Mohan Chandy, the FGO, in another, went up and down for several days sweeping the channel.

On 31 December 1971, we celebrated the New Year's Eve at the Chittagong Club. Bikash and Mohan left early as they were slated to go for the final check sweep in the morning. Looking forward to a lazy morning, I waited to ring in the New Year and returned to the mess well after midnight. There I found the FOO, Cdr Vyas, waiting to tell me that they had decided to send another boat as a rescue vessel and that I should board it by 6 am!

It was a unique start to the New Year and I was sleepy as hell but orders are orders. To compound it, I found that the so-called rescue vessel had a much deeper draught than the minesweeping boats. This meant that even if the minesweepers went over a mine without touching it, the rescue vessel was more likely to be struck! With a hope and a prayer, we trailed the boats the whole day. Fortunately nothing untoward happened. A safe channel was marked and a message sent to the Naval and the Eastern Naval Command HQs that shipping could resume. Soon after, we returned to Vizag on Gharial, having missed all the victory celebrations!

Till........

To celebrate their Liberation Day on 16 December every year, the Bangladesh government invites around 25 veterans including 2 from the Navy who took part in the 1971 War on the Eastern front, as state guests with their wives. I volunteered to go in 2017. I have never witnessed such warm hospitality ever. Apart from the 16 December parade, there were functions galore with warm, emotional praises and tributes and precious souvenirs. The highlight was Sheikh Hasina's reception where she spent 4-5 minutes talking to each of us inquiring about our part in the war, thanking and telling us that we had played a large part in the birth of her country. After tea and snacks, we were waiting for her to leave but she stayed till the end and saw us off. We were truly touched by her words and hospitality and she certainly won our hearts.

P.S. The Sharma family was well represented in the war on both fronts and that too on the flagships of the two fleets with Shashi Mama on board Mysore. Also, Akhila's brother Tony (Col SC Mehrish) fought with his regiment 16th Rajput in Hili Sector on the eastern front. He had the mortification of seeing the soldier next to him killed in enemy fire.

Remembering Jack and Aku - Two Martyrs of the 1971 War

The first few days of the 1971 Indo-Pak War went off very well for the Indian Navy. The Navy, in action for the first time in independent India, was itching to prove its mettle and through brilliant planning and innovation, carried out very successful air strikes on the eastern front blockading the Bay of Bengal and missile attacks in the west causing havoc on Pak naval ships and harbour installations.

It was perhaps overconfidence and a bit of bravado that caused the Navy its two tragic losses - the sinking of Khukri on 9 December and the downing of an Alize on the 10th. And on each of these, I lost a close friend - Jack Suri and Aku Roy respectively.

Jack was the Executive Officer, second-in-command on Khukri. We are all familiar with the brave actions of Captain Mulla. Jack was his right hand man and had the ability, intelligence and personality of a fine officer. He would not suffer fools but had a soft heart and was a very sociable person. Although he was 3 courses senior to me, we got to know each other when he could not make it for flying and joined our batch for SLt's training courses. A year later, we were shipmates on Gomati. Sometime later, he was an instructor in Signal School when I did my Communications specialisation. He was a fitness freak and was forever worried about a bulging waistline though he had not a gram of extra flesh on his waist. Squash was his passion and he played every day and was the naval champion for many years. I was not quite his standard but could give him a good game and we played each other often. Fond of his drink, he would croon Elvis Presley's "Wooden Heart" and Mohammed Rafi's "Abhi na jao Chhodkar" or "Teri pyari pyari soorat" without much coaxing! Incidentally, he also taught Lucky the 'naughty girls in London' trick!

Aku was an excellent pilot who was held in high esteem by the aviation community. He was a lovable, popular figure who believed in living life to the hilt. He was a restless soul always moving on. It was perhaps because of this that he was chosen to fly a sortie which was an overreach for a slow and defenceless aircraft like the Alize.

Two years earlier, he was flying off Vikrant over the Bay of Bengal and had to ditch in the sea due to a technical fault. I was on board the rescue destroyer "Trishul" and witness to the ditching though unaware of the identity of the pilot. I had a sinking feeling it was Aku. But Aku had made a perfect ditching and the crew was picked up by a helicopter safely and without any injuries before the aircraft sank. Relieved, I sent Aku a message I still remember, "Of all the places in the world, did you have to choose the Bay of Bengal to dip your wick?"

I was far away on Vikrant in the Bay of Bengal when we got the news of the downing of the Alize over the Arabian Sea on 10 December. I experienced the same sinking feeling and was right but this time, Aku's luck had run out!

There were rumours that Aku was one of the many POWs who were illegally held in Pakistan long after the War but these remained unsubstantiated.

Aku was one year junior to me but we served in the same station many a time and found each other's company fun. Once he took Viji Malhotra and me on an Alize flight to shake us out of our senses. He went through all kinds of stunts but Viji and I kept our nerves. When we got back to our cabins, we passed out for 24 hours!

Aku was tall and handsome and quite a ladies' man. Some compared his looks to a Greek god. He and Jack were different personalities but shared many traits. Above all, both were very eligible bachelors. In view of their fate, it was perhaps better that they remained so. Still, they left behind a large number of friends who would always remember and miss them.

God rest their souls in peace.

Our Family Sense of Humour

All of us in my family, cousins et al, consider Pitaji, my Nanaji, as the original Head of our Family. He had a subtle sense of humour and would voice his comments coolly with an expressionless face. One day, a nephew of Mataji, my Nani, turned up and wanted to meet Pitaji who was having a bath. The nephew said he would just get a paan from the corner shop and be back in 10 minutes. The nephew had a reputation of not sticking to his word. So when Pitaji came out and was told that nephew had come and would be back shortly, Pitaji immediately remarked, oh, then he won't come.  And he didn't!
During the 1976 emergency, a relative serving in the Rajasthan government had to undergo vasectomy. He visited us sometime later and after he left, Pitaji wondered aloud if the relative's voice sounded effeminate!
Pitaji's favourite story was about an examiner who while marking answer copies decided on the final result depending on which nostril he was breathing from: right meant pass and left, fail.
Another trait of Pitaji was giving his own name to places. During our first visit to Bombay (which itself officially mutated to Mumbai later!), Cuffe Parade became Duff Cooper and Wodehouse Road, Hobhouse Road for us ever after.

Shashi Mama (Cdr PK Sharma) had his own brand of humour. As a teenager, home on summer vacation from Allahabad University, he developed fever and was confined by Mataji, a strict believer in the maxim 'starve the fever', to a milk diet. Shashi Mama took it sportingly and once in a while we would hear a feeble shout from his room, "Doodh maharaj ki jai.'
Bharatpur was not a very happening city at least in the 40s and a vacation there in scorching summer was hardly something to look forward to. Shashi Mama must have found it very boring for every evening he would say in a singsong voice, "garaz ke kaat diya zindagi ka din ek aur.'
He also had his own vocabulary. Some of his favourites were 'mare pe do laat' (for the constantly downtrodden), 'janampatri pe joote maar' (for someone succeeding beyond his capability) and 'thanks but no thanks.'
If a party needed livening, one could always turn to him to perform his song and dance number "Balma jajaja, balma jaa."

Vinnie Mama (Cmde VK Sharma) was more of a stiff upper lip PG Wodehouse type. One of his early ones was about a British noble lady who acquired a new chauffeur. When asked for his name, he replied, "James."
Noble Lady, "Tell me your surname, I only address my chaffeurs by their surnames."
Chauffeur, "Darling, James Darling."
Noble Lady, "Drive on, James."
His naval anecdotes would fill more than a book. And he actually authored one titled "With a Pinch of Salt"- a must read for those interested in naval life. A classical anecdote was one about sounding action stations on a ship. The Gunnery Instructor (GI) wanted to quickly establish communications and blared on the Armament Broadcast, "All positions, this is GDP (Gun Direction Position), how do you hear me, over?" No answer. Louder, "All Positions This Is GDP, How Do You Hear Me, Over?" Again no answer. Third time, screaming, "ALL POSITIONS THIS IS GDP, OVER, OVER." A new sailor thinking he must quickly rectify the situation grabbed the nearest mic and said loudly, "GDP, This Is All Positions, hearing you loud and clear, how me, Over?" GI very angrily, "WRONG. You should have said, THESE ARE ALL POSITIONS!"
A second one...A Captain followed a morning ritual of opening his safe, taking out a booklet, reading it religiously, replacing it and locking back the safe. The XO (second-in-command) was mystified and grabbed the first opportunity to open the safe and get hold of the booklet which read, "The right side of the ship is Starboard and the left side Port."
One with not such a stiff upper lip. A pilot was gently navigating an Italian ship into a narrow channel.
Pilot, "Starboard 5." Italian Quartermaster, "Starboda 5, 5 of-a starboda wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 10." QM, "Starboda 10, 10 of-a starbod-a wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 15." QM utterly exasperated now, "Starbod-a 5, starbod-a 10, starbod-a 15, why can't-a you make up-a your mind. Here, I put-a plenty of starbod-a wheel on, hard-a starbod."
CRASH, BOOM, GHRRRR....
And in real life... We were in Jaipur together when Vinnie Mama had to leave for Bombay. My family and I went to see him off on the train and we found that he had been allotted a seat on the side instead of the usual full berth. I was unfamiliar with this and asked him how he would sleep at night. He said no problem and demonstrated by unfolding the seat and the one opposite thereby joining them and making a sleeper. He then said that normally the train conductors were very accommodating and would find an old person a regular berth. Just then a person in a black coat and white trousers was passing by and Vinnie Mama addressed him, "Conductor sahib, conductor sahib, if you would be so kind to an old man......" and started stating his case for a proper berth. The person tried to say something but Vinnie Mama continued nonstop and would not let him get a word in edgewise. Finally when Vinnie Mama stopped for breath, the man said, "But gentleman, I am not the Conductor." Vinnie Mama offered profound apologies and the man started walking away. Vinnie Mama then said to the man's retreating back,"But you are dressed like one." That really brought the house down including the black coat-white trousered man.

As my father and Dadaji passed away when I was very young, I didn't get to know many relatives from my paternal side. There was one exception though and that was my granduncle (called Alwarwale Chachaji by me) who was also related to us from Mummy's side as he was married to Mataji's elder sister. He was a Judge in Alwar state and was very fond of Pitaji as well as me and we used to visit him often. On weekends he had a kind of durbar to which all our community folks flocked. Ladies went to the upper floor and gents stayed down in a big hall. Chachaji was fond of practical jokes and on one occasion caught hold of a child and asked him what had been happening in his house earlier. The child mentioned that his aunt did not have a petticoat to wear so she asked his mother, who was not coming to Chachaji's place, to lend her one for the day. The child went out to play and after sometime was summoned by Chachaji to go and tell his aunt that his mother had sent a message asking the aunt to return the petticoat. The innocent child went and conveyed this to his aunt in the presence of all the other ladies. The aunt angrily stormed out cursing her sister and muttering what  the emergency was why her sister could not even wait for her to return. Fireworks must have exploded at home when she got back!

Babuji, my father-in-law's humour had a rustic touch. Fond of sher and shayari, his stories sounded wonderful in chaste urdu. A lot of juice is lost in translation but here are a couple of them.
A singer was going on and on at a village concert till everyone walked away leaving just two people. The singer on noticing this said to the two, "You are truly knowledgable about music and I thank you for staying right to the end." One of them remarked, "Thank you, sir, but we are just waiting for you to finish. Yeh lalten meri hai aur durrie iski."
At another concert, the public got utterly disgusted with the music but the performers showed no signs of stopping. Finally, a tough looking sardar got up and charged up to the stage brandishing his kirpan. Scared, the artistes started getting up and scampering but the sardar told them, "Aap kyon uth rahe ho, aap toh gaate rahiye, mujhe aapse koi gila nahin hai, main toh usko dhoondh raha hoon jisne aapko yehan bulaya." I used the idea often in actual situations and recall that in August 1983, Adm Dawson ordered the Western Fleet to carry out anti-submarine exercises in the thick of monsoon. 90% of ships' companies were seasick, ships were all helter skelter and nobody had an idea of what was going on. I, as Fleet Operations Officer, said to CNS's Naval Assistant, "Forgive the ships, I am looking for the person who ordered the exercises in the first place." This was probably conveyed to the CNS who thereafter always looked askance at me.

To conclude, three of my favourites.
A full chapter on Sex in George Mikes's book 'How to be an Englishman' : "The continental people have sex, the English, hot water bottle."
In a cartoon, the trainer standing by the fence during a race is exhorting his horse to run faster, "Come on Black Beauty, come on!" Black Beauty aborts the race and heads for the trainer.
In another cartoon, Ginger Meggs, according to me a kid naughtier than Dennis the Menace, is walking back from school with a classmate.
Classmate, "Albert says he is the biggest liar in class."
Ginger Meggs, "Don't believe him!"

Blood is thicker than water and the humour gene is now flowing well in the veins of the younger generation. Having studied at Lovedale, my cousin Rajeev can keep you laughing for hours recounting Tamil jokes and with his experience in the advertising industry is an expert at fun in pun.