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Friday, September 30, 2005
The 1965 WAR: Recollections of a Bengali
Mumtaz Iqbal
(Author's note: This account relies on memory. Facts and anecdotes are used to elucidate. Unless specified, dates are indicative).
When war commenced on 6 September 1965, I was a covenanted officer in Lloyds Bank (later Grindlays, ANZ now StanChart) in the river port and important jute trading and industrial center of Narayanganj.
I was the only Bengali in the Lloyds covenanted cadre (boxwallahs). All others were Brits or Pakistanis. The staffing of foreign multinationals (e.g. ICI; Levers; Tobacco) in Pakistan mirrored more sharply the poor representation in numbers and position of Bengalis in the bureaucracy and armed forces. This disparity became a combustible issue in Pakistan.
I mention this to show that private sector employment practices replicate a country's public sector architecture of power, a phenomenon that's not unique or limited to Pakistan. But this profile inhibited national cohesion.
The mood
The public mood in East Pakistan exhibited a degree of euphoria even jingoism, normal when hostilities occur. The Bengalis responded as good patriots, rallied behind the government and hoped for victory.
But this feeling was not, and could not be, as robust as that amongst the West Pakistanis. The fighting was happening far away. We weren't physically threatened. Not many households were directly affected by their family members being in harm's way, since the number of Bengali servicemen especially infantry was small.
Moreover, details of infiltration in Kashmir we didn't know about Operation Gibraltar then--preceding the actual shooting war were a bit of a mystery to the Pakistani public especially Bengalis. For them, Kashmir didn't resonate in the same existential way it did amongst Punjabis.
But Bengalis were also uneasy. East Pakistan was defenceless, with three anaemic brigades. This helplessness was tempered by faint stoicism that India wouldn't or didn't need to attack in the east. The logic was that Delhi gained nothing by dividing her forces and enlarging the conflict.
Pakistan's fortunes, like India's earlier empires, would be decided on the Punjab plains; the difference was this encounter was originating from the east rather than the west, something that hadn't happened that often (except under the colonial Brits!
since Alexandrian times!
It was GHQ mantra that the "battle for East Bengal would be fought in the West Punjab". Propounded by Pakistan Army's second C-in-C (1948-51) British Gen. Sir Douglas David Gracey (1 Gurkha), this dictum may have had strategic rationale but was political dynamite (The State of Martial Rule-Ayesha Jalal p.85)
We weren't sure whether Delhi's restraint in the eastern theatre was psywar strategy or biding time. This ambivalence provided scant comfort for Bengalis, isolated from the outside world, with no control over their destiny. These realisations galled.
We depended on Radio Pakistan, overseas radio and the press for war news. At first, there was confusion and apprehension, with conflicting reports that Lahore had fallen. We were relieved when this proved incorrect.
Morale
Our morale bounded with the news that sword of honour winner Major Raja Aziz Bhatti, 17 Punjab, had received the posthumous Nishan-e-Haider (equivalent to Bir Shreshto) for repulsing attacks in the Burki area of the BRB (Bombanwala-Ravi-Bedian) Canal. This suggested our soldiers were fighting well; Indian attacks were stoutly resisted and not making headway.
The PAF's performance, especially of F-86 fighter pilot Sqn. Ldr. M.M.Alam, raised spirits. He reportedly shot down five Indian Hunters attacking Sargodha in one engagement on 6 September, becoming an instant ace (Battle for Pakistan: The Air War of 1965, John Fricker).
The IAF disputes this (see Laying the Sargodha Ghost to Rest by Pushpinder Singh in Vayu Aerospace Review November 1985). Post war findings reduced the nine kills credited to Alam to a still impressive five (refer Alam's Speed Shooting Classic, Air Cdre M. Kaiser, Defence Journal September 2001).
Much was made that Alam was a Bengali (actually, he's from West Bengal). The Dhaka Municipal Corporation gifted him a house, which he never took. Alam got an SJ and bar for his exploits. Reportedly he had a checkered career after 1965, found religion and retired as an Air Commodore in 1982.
Also much publicized was the 7 September attack on Kalaikunda air base by Dacca-based 14 Squadron F-86Fs (dubbed Tail Choppers) led by Sqn. Ldr. (later Air Marshal) Shabbir Hussain Syed (awarded SJ) in which IAF planes were destroyed without any PAF loss.
This raid struck some of us as odd. Prudence dictated a reciprocal restraint by Pakistan in the east. We rejoiced at this exploit, wondered when the IAF would retaliate and were puzzled when it didn't, even following raids on Bagdogra, Agartala and Barrackpore.
Was Kalaikunda then not all it was claimed to be? The PAF asserted it destroyed ten and damaged five Canberras and two Hunters on the ground. It's odd to say the least that the IAF would keep bombers so far forward in the east when the war's center of gravity was in the west.
Lifestyle and doubts
Within a week, Bengalis were taking the war in stride. We went about our work, studies and other activities as normally as possible under the circumstances. There was no petrol rationing; cars moved with their headlamps half-covered with black paint; a blackout was diligently observed at night, enforced by volunteer wardens. ack-ack guns ringed the airport.
Economic, travel and social transactions including crime dropped markedly. There were no shortages or hoarding. Prices were stable or slid as demand faltered. Political activities ceased. Parties issued patriotic statements unceasingly.
But doubts about the war's progress started creeping in from the second week. They first surfaced for me when accounts circulated about horsemen in green fighting alongside Pakistani forces, and heroic volunteers strapping explosives to their bodies destroyed Centurions and Shermans by rolling under their tracks! Curious these soldiers were not named nor given awards.
These claims of extra-terrestrial intervention and suicidal valour (foreshadowing LTTE?) were meant to boost public morale but lacked credibility and suggested a heightened level of official anxiety. Brig (retd ) Qayyum Sher HJ, who made a name for himself on the Lahore front, had remonstrated with ISPR Maj.(later Brig) AR Siddiqi that such drivel didn't impress the front-line troops. But the PR machinery continued to churn out unadulterated nonsense relentlessly.
My apprehensions about the war's progress peaked when it was announced (by Ayub?) around 20 September that a tank battle at Chawinda, Sialkot sector was the biggest since Stalingrad (August 1942-February 1943).
I had read enough military history to know that the largest WW2 armoured engagement (2,700 German and 3,400 Soviet tanks deployed) was Kursk in July 1943, that is, after Stalingrad; that Stalingrad was a grinding siege fought under terrible conditions between Red Army and Wehrmacht footsloggers, and wondered about Ayub's or his speech writers' - knowledge or distortion of military history.
I suspect Stalingrad was mentioned so as to resonate with the public because more Pakistanis had heard about Stalingrad as a defining struggle than Kursk (or Kharkov). "To compare the battle of Sialkot sector with those of WW 2 is a cruel joke" concludes Maj (Retd) Shamshad Ali Khan, who fought at Chawinda (see his Chawinda 1965-An Analysis from 12 Sept to 20 Sept pakistani defen-ceforum.com/lofiversion/index.php).
Some personal experiences
I didn't miss a single day's work during the war, traveling daily between Dhaka and Narayanganj in a Land Rover with two Brit colleagues (a Scot and a Pommie). I recount a few experiences below.
Probably the funniest one happened a week into the war. Narayanganj's main street was Quaid-e-Azam Road, along which Lloyds bank was located. Adjacent was the Narayanganj Club. It had seen better days but still put out an impressive lunch (especially fried bhetki with tartare sauce) served by a waiter in full but somewhat tattered regalia.
Just before noon on or around 12 September, there was a huge bang just outside the bank.
One rumour was that the IAF had dropped bombs. Immediately, the bank shut its doors. We contacted various sources to ascertain the cause.
It transpired that a three-wheeler cycle rickshaw had burst both its rear tyres simultaneously. We breathed a sigh of relief. The rickshaw puller was roundly chastised. This experience showed the jitters below the placid surface.
Lloyds Bank was a major financier of raw jute exports where Marwaris were major players. Narayanganj branch had the largest number of Lloyds' jute clients including Tolaram Bachhraj, a top exporter.
Tolaram's managing director Kalyanchand Saraogi was a character. He was short, dark, with thinning hair, a faint disheveled moustache and the beginnings of a paunch; lacked formal education; dressed modestly but untidily in inexpensive casual clothes and had an impressive mastery over numbers.
Every business day, he would turn up at the branch around noon. His entourage comprised his trusted finance manager, independent jute brokers and assorted hangers-on. He convivially bellowed his opinions throughout the branch in a booming voice; sent the advances staff into a frenzy while they struggled manfully to calculate swiftly how much money he could withdraw (between Rs.5-10 lakhs daily-a lot of money then); and left in a blaze of cacophony. After that, peace and tranquility would return to the branch.
Lloyds froze Tolaram's accounts on the declaration of war under Islamabad's Enemy Property Ordinance. That stopped Kalyanchand's visits to the branch. At first we relished the silence his absence brought. But after a while, we missed the instant boisterousness his arrival had wrought.
Visit to Rangpur
Around 14 September, although the jute portfolio was held by an English colleague, my Scots branch manager Steve requested me to visit Rangpur in north Bengal to check on Tolaram's stocks. He explained that the presence of a white man checking jute bales pledged/ hypothecated to the bank may be misinterpreted (MI6 and all that!. Could I help?
Of course I would. This was a chance to earn credits. I had never visited Rangpur. A Cook's tour at bank expense sounded fun. I was young, confident and on top of the world, having married six weeks ago. My parents and new bride questioned my brashness but didn't press their objections.
I traveled by train alone first class leaving Dhaka early morning, reaching Bahadurabad Ghat early afternoon without mishap or excitement. I crossed by ferry to the western bank and got on another train for Rangpur with a compartment to myself. The train left late evening and creaked and groaned at around 30 mph.
The journey was uneventful till we stopped at about 9 PM at a station I can't remember the name a short distance from Rangpur. There I saw soldiers on the platform. They boarded the train. The next thing I knew was my carriage door being flung open and an uniformed figure flung himself face down on the empty bench opposite.
Encounter with A Soldier
After a few moments, our eyes met, and to my delight, I found the newcomer to be Capt. (later Major General) Khalid Musharraf BU, relocating with his troops (4 E Bengal or the Baby Tigers), raised just before the war. He was commissioned in 1958 in 15/17 Punjab but later transferred to 4 E Bengal. The East Bengal Regiment was the only pure Bengali unit in the Pakistan Army.
I first met Khalid in late1963/ early 1964 when he was serving with my late brother Major Mahmood Kamal, Guides Cavalry, then commanding K (Kamal) Company of the SSG (Pakistan's commando force) based in Thakurgaon, Dinajpur district.
One of K Company's tasks was to interdict the six miles wide Siliguri Gap railway not far from Thakurgaon in case of war. From the Tetulia border running alongside a river, it's possible to make out the smoke of the Indian engine. Sensibly, 14 Div. GOC Maj. Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan did not order this raid. Just as well.
An attack on Siliguri probably would have been as abortive as were SSG para raids on Adampur, Halwara and Pathankot air bases without any discernible impact on India's war making capability (see Operation Gibraltar-Role of SSG Para Commandos by ex-SSG CO Col (retd) S.G. Mehdi, Defence Journal July 1988).
In the article, Col. Mehdi also states he counseled GHQ against Gibraltar, which he considered impractical. He later filed a libel suit against C-in-C Gen. Musa citing unwarranted allegations in his book My Version against Mehdi
Evidently, the post war rhetoric amongst and between the participants on both sides appears to be as toxic and incendiary as the actual combat in 1965! The revelations of peace can be as bewilderingly opaque as the fog of war!!
The 14th Division was the only division based in East Pakistan that at its best never exceeded four weak brigades from 1947 till early April 1971. Then 9 and 16 Divisions minus its heavy stuff were airlifted from Kharian and Quetta, respectively, to tackle the resistance.
My brother rated Khalid as a hardy soldier with plenty of stamina and a sound tactician. Khalid distinguished himself in 1971 (sector 2 and K Force commander), became CGS in 1972 and COAS on 5 November 1975 before losing his life two days later to dissident troops of 10 E Bengal - ironically, a unit he had raised in 1971.
Khalid's presence on the train was reassuring. He was in a gung-ho mood, with high morale, prepared for a fight and confident of winning. We chatted and parted company after reaching Rangpur around 11PM. We never met again.
I spent the night at the railway waiting room, inspected the godowns the next day, found everything in order and caught the afternoon train to Dhaka. A small damage to the Rangpur railway station was attributed to strafing by IAF Hunter, but I couldn't corroborate this. That was the closest I got to the "war" zone, my craving for action satisfied vicariously!
There were four E Bengal battalions in the Pakistan Army in1965, which totaled about 230,000 men organized in eight divisions (IISS 1964-65). 1E Bengal defended the BRB Canal line stoutly, and got the highest number of awards of any unit.
It didn't dovetail with the conventional wisdom that Bengalis didn't make as good soldiers as the 'martial' Punjabis and Pathans. But Lahoris treated Bengali soldiers generously. Shopkeepers often refused money for goods or services and give things for free.
akistanFlag:
The 1965 WAR: Recollections of a Bengali
Mumtaz Iqbal
(Author's note: This account relies on memory. Facts and anecdotes are used to elucidate. Unless specified, dates are indicative).
When war commenced on 6 September 1965, I was a covenanted officer in Lloyds Bank (later Grindlays, ANZ now StanChart) in the river port and important jute trading and industrial center of Narayanganj.
I was the only Bengali in the Lloyds covenanted cadre (boxwallahs). All others were Brits or Pakistanis. The staffing of foreign multinationals (e.g. ICI; Levers; Tobacco) in Pakistan mirrored more sharply the poor representation in numbers and position of Bengalis in the bureaucracy and armed forces. This disparity became a combustible issue in Pakistan.
I mention this to show that private sector employment practices replicate a country's public sector architecture of power, a phenomenon that's not unique or limited to Pakistan. But this profile inhibited national cohesion.
The mood
The public mood in East Pakistan exhibited a degree of euphoria even jingoism, normal when hostilities occur. The Bengalis responded as good patriots, rallied behind the government and hoped for victory.
But this feeling was not, and could not be, as robust as that amongst the West Pakistanis. The fighting was happening far away. We weren't physically threatened. Not many households were directly affected by their family members being in harm's way, since the number of Bengali servicemen especially infantry was small.
Moreover, details of infiltration in Kashmir we didn't know about Operation Gibraltar then--preceding the actual shooting war were a bit of a mystery to the Pakistani public especially Bengalis. For them, Kashmir didn't resonate in the same existential way it did amongst Punjabis.
But Bengalis were also uneasy. East Pakistan was defenceless, with three anaemic brigades. This helplessness was tempered by faint stoicism that India wouldn't or didn't need to attack in the east. The logic was that Delhi gained nothing by dividing her forces and enlarging the conflict.
Pakistan's fortunes, like India's earlier empires, would be decided on the Punjab plains; the difference was this encounter was originating from the east rather than the west, something that hadn't happened that often (except under the colonial Brits!
since Alexandrian times!It was GHQ mantra that the "battle for East Bengal would be fought in the West Punjab". Propounded by Pakistan Army's second C-in-C (1948-51) British Gen. Sir Douglas David Gracey (1 Gurkha), this dictum may have had strategic rationale but was political dynamite (The State of Martial Rule-Ayesha Jalal p.85)
We weren't sure whether Delhi's restraint in the eastern theatre was psywar strategy or biding time. This ambivalence provided scant comfort for Bengalis, isolated from the outside world, with no control over their destiny. These realisations galled.
We depended on Radio Pakistan, overseas radio and the press for war news. At first, there was confusion and apprehension, with conflicting reports that Lahore had fallen. We were relieved when this proved incorrect.
Morale
Our morale bounded with the news that sword of honour winner Major Raja Aziz Bhatti, 17 Punjab, had received the posthumous Nishan-e-Haider (equivalent to Bir Shreshto) for repulsing attacks in the Burki area of the BRB (Bombanwala-Ravi-Bedian) Canal. This suggested our soldiers were fighting well; Indian attacks were stoutly resisted and not making headway.
The PAF's performance, especially of F-86 fighter pilot Sqn. Ldr. M.M.Alam, raised spirits. He reportedly shot down five Indian Hunters attacking Sargodha in one engagement on 6 September, becoming an instant ace (Battle for Pakistan: The Air War of 1965, John Fricker).
The IAF disputes this (see Laying the Sargodha Ghost to Rest by Pushpinder Singh in Vayu Aerospace Review November 1985). Post war findings reduced the nine kills credited to Alam to a still impressive five (refer Alam's Speed Shooting Classic, Air Cdre M. Kaiser, Defence Journal September 2001).
Much was made that Alam was a Bengali (actually, he's from West Bengal). The Dhaka Municipal Corporation gifted him a house, which he never took. Alam got an SJ and bar for his exploits. Reportedly he had a checkered career after 1965, found religion and retired as an Air Commodore in 1982.
Also much publicized was the 7 September attack on Kalaikunda air base by Dacca-based 14 Squadron F-86Fs (dubbed Tail Choppers) led by Sqn. Ldr. (later Air Marshal) Shabbir Hussain Syed (awarded SJ) in which IAF planes were destroyed without any PAF loss.
This raid struck some of us as odd. Prudence dictated a reciprocal restraint by Pakistan in the east. We rejoiced at this exploit, wondered when the IAF would retaliate and were puzzled when it didn't, even following raids on Bagdogra, Agartala and Barrackpore.
Was Kalaikunda then not all it was claimed to be? The PAF asserted it destroyed ten and damaged five Canberras and two Hunters on the ground. It's odd to say the least that the IAF would keep bombers so far forward in the east when the war's center of gravity was in the west.
Lifestyle and doubts
Within a week, Bengalis were taking the war in stride. We went about our work, studies and other activities as normally as possible under the circumstances. There was no petrol rationing; cars moved with their headlamps half-covered with black paint; a blackout was diligently observed at night, enforced by volunteer wardens. ack-ack guns ringed the airport.
Economic, travel and social transactions including crime dropped markedly. There were no shortages or hoarding. Prices were stable or slid as demand faltered. Political activities ceased. Parties issued patriotic statements unceasingly.
But doubts about the war's progress started creeping in from the second week. They first surfaced for me when accounts circulated about horsemen in green fighting alongside Pakistani forces, and heroic volunteers strapping explosives to their bodies destroyed Centurions and Shermans by rolling under their tracks! Curious these soldiers were not named nor given awards.
These claims of extra-terrestrial intervention and suicidal valour (foreshadowing LTTE?) were meant to boost public morale but lacked credibility and suggested a heightened level of official anxiety. Brig (retd ) Qayyum Sher HJ, who made a name for himself on the Lahore front, had remonstrated with ISPR Maj.(later Brig) AR Siddiqi that such drivel didn't impress the front-line troops. But the PR machinery continued to churn out unadulterated nonsense relentlessly.
My apprehensions about the war's progress peaked when it was announced (by Ayub?) around 20 September that a tank battle at Chawinda, Sialkot sector was the biggest since Stalingrad (August 1942-February 1943).
I had read enough military history to know that the largest WW2 armoured engagement (2,700 German and 3,400 Soviet tanks deployed) was Kursk in July 1943, that is, after Stalingrad; that Stalingrad was a grinding siege fought under terrible conditions between Red Army and Wehrmacht footsloggers, and wondered about Ayub's or his speech writers' - knowledge or distortion of military history.
I suspect Stalingrad was mentioned so as to resonate with the public because more Pakistanis had heard about Stalingrad as a defining struggle than Kursk (or Kharkov). "To compare the battle of Sialkot sector with those of WW 2 is a cruel joke" concludes Maj (Retd) Shamshad Ali Khan, who fought at Chawinda (see his Chawinda 1965-An Analysis from 12 Sept to 20 Sept pakistani defen-ceforum.com/lofiversion/index.php).
Some personal experiences
I didn't miss a single day's work during the war, traveling daily between Dhaka and Narayanganj in a Land Rover with two Brit colleagues (a Scot and a Pommie). I recount a few experiences below.
Probably the funniest one happened a week into the war. Narayanganj's main street was Quaid-e-Azam Road, along which Lloyds bank was located. Adjacent was the Narayanganj Club. It had seen better days but still put out an impressive lunch (especially fried bhetki with tartare sauce) served by a waiter in full but somewhat tattered regalia.
Just before noon on or around 12 September, there was a huge bang just outside the bank.
One rumour was that the IAF had dropped bombs. Immediately, the bank shut its doors. We contacted various sources to ascertain the cause.
It transpired that a three-wheeler cycle rickshaw had burst both its rear tyres simultaneously. We breathed a sigh of relief. The rickshaw puller was roundly chastised. This experience showed the jitters below the placid surface.
Lloyds Bank was a major financier of raw jute exports where Marwaris were major players. Narayanganj branch had the largest number of Lloyds' jute clients including Tolaram Bachhraj, a top exporter.
Tolaram's managing director Kalyanchand Saraogi was a character. He was short, dark, with thinning hair, a faint disheveled moustache and the beginnings of a paunch; lacked formal education; dressed modestly but untidily in inexpensive casual clothes and had an impressive mastery over numbers.
Every business day, he would turn up at the branch around noon. His entourage comprised his trusted finance manager, independent jute brokers and assorted hangers-on. He convivially bellowed his opinions throughout the branch in a booming voice; sent the advances staff into a frenzy while they struggled manfully to calculate swiftly how much money he could withdraw (between Rs.5-10 lakhs daily-a lot of money then); and left in a blaze of cacophony. After that, peace and tranquility would return to the branch.
Lloyds froze Tolaram's accounts on the declaration of war under Islamabad's Enemy Property Ordinance. That stopped Kalyanchand's visits to the branch. At first we relished the silence his absence brought. But after a while, we missed the instant boisterousness his arrival had wrought.
Visit to Rangpur
Around 14 September, although the jute portfolio was held by an English colleague, my Scots branch manager Steve requested me to visit Rangpur in north Bengal to check on Tolaram's stocks. He explained that the presence of a white man checking jute bales pledged/ hypothecated to the bank may be misinterpreted (MI6 and all that!
. Could I help?Of course I would. This was a chance to earn credits. I had never visited Rangpur. A Cook's tour at bank expense sounded fun. I was young, confident and on top of the world, having married six weeks ago. My parents and new bride questioned my brashness but didn't press their objections.
I traveled by train alone first class leaving Dhaka early morning, reaching Bahadurabad Ghat early afternoon without mishap or excitement. I crossed by ferry to the western bank and got on another train for Rangpur with a compartment to myself. The train left late evening and creaked and groaned at around 30 mph.
The journey was uneventful till we stopped at about 9 PM at a station I can't remember the name a short distance from Rangpur. There I saw soldiers on the platform. They boarded the train. The next thing I knew was my carriage door being flung open and an uniformed figure flung himself face down on the empty bench opposite.
Encounter with A Soldier
After a few moments, our eyes met, and to my delight, I found the newcomer to be Capt. (later Major General) Khalid Musharraf BU, relocating with his troops (4 E Bengal or the Baby Tigers), raised just before the war. He was commissioned in 1958 in 15/17 Punjab but later transferred to 4 E Bengal. The East Bengal Regiment was the only pure Bengali unit in the Pakistan Army.
I first met Khalid in late1963/ early 1964 when he was serving with my late brother Major Mahmood Kamal, Guides Cavalry, then commanding K (Kamal) Company of the SSG (Pakistan's commando force) based in Thakurgaon, Dinajpur district.
One of K Company's tasks was to interdict the six miles wide Siliguri Gap railway not far from Thakurgaon in case of war. From the Tetulia border running alongside a river, it's possible to make out the smoke of the Indian engine. Sensibly, 14 Div. GOC Maj. Gen Fazal Muqeem Khan did not order this raid. Just as well.
An attack on Siliguri probably would have been as abortive as were SSG para raids on Adampur, Halwara and Pathankot air bases without any discernible impact on India's war making capability (see Operation Gibraltar-Role of SSG Para Commandos by ex-SSG CO Col (retd) S.G. Mehdi, Defence Journal July 1988).
In the article, Col. Mehdi also states he counseled GHQ against Gibraltar, which he considered impractical. He later filed a libel suit against C-in-C Gen. Musa citing unwarranted allegations in his book My Version against Mehdi
Evidently, the post war rhetoric amongst and between the participants on both sides appears to be as toxic and incendiary as the actual combat in 1965! The revelations of peace can be as bewilderingly opaque as the fog of war!!
The 14th Division was the only division based in East Pakistan that at its best never exceeded four weak brigades from 1947 till early April 1971. Then 9 and 16 Divisions minus its heavy stuff were airlifted from Kharian and Quetta, respectively, to tackle the resistance.
My brother rated Khalid as a hardy soldier with plenty of stamina and a sound tactician. Khalid distinguished himself in 1971 (sector 2 and K Force commander), became CGS in 1972 and COAS on 5 November 1975 before losing his life two days later to dissident troops of 10 E Bengal - ironically, a unit he had raised in 1971.
Khalid's presence on the train was reassuring. He was in a gung-ho mood, with high morale, prepared for a fight and confident of winning. We chatted and parted company after reaching Rangpur around 11PM. We never met again.
I spent the night at the railway waiting room, inspected the godowns the next day, found everything in order and caught the afternoon train to Dhaka. A small damage to the Rangpur railway station was attributed to strafing by IAF Hunter, but I couldn't corroborate this. That was the closest I got to the "war" zone, my craving for action satisfied vicariously!
There were four E Bengal battalions in the Pakistan Army in1965, which totaled about 230,000 men organized in eight divisions (IISS 1964-65). 1E Bengal defended the BRB Canal line stoutly, and got the highest number of awards of any unit.
It didn't dovetail with the conventional wisdom that Bengalis didn't make as good soldiers as the 'martial' Punjabis and Pathans. But Lahoris treated Bengali soldiers generously. Shopkeepers often refused money for goods or services and give things for free.
akistanFlag:
