Indo Pak War 1971: The final Victory

16th December 1971 was a day to remember in more ways than one. The daybreak came not with bright sun-shine but with a severe storm raging in its full fury, it was more like a tornado with the corrugated tin-sheets from various structures around getting uprooted from their moorings by the force of the wind and flying around like unguided missiles.

Coming out of my hut I was buffeted by the strong gusts of the wind, crouching low and struggling against the wind force I slowly made my way to the mess for breakfast. However, the mess was in a mess with soot every where. No breakfast could be served that morning as the strong gusts of wind flowing in and out of the kitchen made it impossible to light the stove.

POW camp Gaya
Down below in the planes of the then East Pakistan birth of Bangla Desh had taken place and the post-delivery calm prevailing. It was all quiet once again after days, months and years of killings of the locals prolonged fighting by the Mukti Bahini and a short fight with Indian forces when 90,000 odd of the Pakistani Army had surrendered to India Armed forces.

(Later while commanding the regiment at Ranchi, I had gone to Gaya, to visit the Brigade Signal Company located there and happened to visit the POW camp commanded by Lt Col Mahender Singh Tiawthia of Signals. I felt extremely sad to see the Pakistani young officers corralled behind the barbed wire fence.)

The War of liberation over, the instrument of surrender having been signed at Dhaka and things returning to somewhat normal state, with my mother’s demise at the back of my mind all the time I then requested and was granted a few days of leave.

Changing trains at Delhi Junction for Dehradun, I possibly one of the very few soldiers returning from the Eastern front was besieged by a welcoming party and escorted to a stall serving free Idli-Dosa and other South Indian delicacies.

Excitement of meeting Jeet and the children staying in separated family accommodation with many other families as neighbours was over- shadowed by once again the ‘Survivors Feeling of Guilt’ returning from the battle front, I was dreading of any bad news fortunately, all were safe.

The short leave over once again back at the Delhi Railway station I was looking for the stall dispensing free Dosas. However not only the welcome party was missing but the stall had also been wound up. The fervour for the sacrifice by the Army made only a short time back was now History. Public memory is so short.

Brig Lakshman Singh, VSM (Retd)