Its mainstay is the single engine Cheetah (successor of the Chetak helicopter), now manufactured at the Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd (HAL) facility in Bangalore. Originally produced in 1962 in France as Aerospatiale SA 319 Alouette III (known in India as Chetak), its upgraded version, the SA 315 B Lama began licensed production at HAL in 1971. This helicopter came to be known as Cheetah which is the mainstay of 114 HU since 1984! Although it has the ability to operate at the extreme flight envelope limit of 23,000 feet routinely, a single engine helicopter is fraught with risk in normal circumstances. In Ladakh and especially on the Siachen Glacier, the risks multiply manifold.
Remembers retired AVM Manmohan Bahadur: “There are areas in the Glacier where the pilots fly with a prayer on their lips. The crevasses are so deep and wide that they could swallow an entire helicopter in the event of a force landing. The pilots have to brave temperatures as low as minus 60 degrees Celsius at times. Strong winds and poor weather is a constant companion while flying in close proximity of high peaks and rugged mountains. And don’t forget the powerful ‘down draft’ that often pulls down the machine, if the pilots are not careful. In our time, over and above regular flying at the extreme flight envelope, we were also under constant threat of enemy fire. In those days, we always flew low and fast to give minimum reaction time to the adversary. The landings then—as now—on the match box size helipads are precise. The brave jawans on those posts would open the door, take out the load, put in a casualty or mail, close the door and we would take off in the reciprocal direction. The time taken for this manoeuvre is not more than 20-30 seconds! As we returned to Base Camp, a quick hot cup of tea, another consignment loaded and off we went again. This continued the whole day, weather permitting.”
An advanced light helicopter swallowed by a crevasse in 2013
And this routine minus the threat of enemy shelling continues even today. Every day. 365 days a year.
Three decades of flying in such conditions has given the 114 HU an operational experience that is the envy of aviators the world over.
Leh, it is said, is the Mecca of helicopter flying in the world. There is a saying among chopper pilots: If you are an Indian Force helicopter pilot, and you haven’t been deployed to fly in Ladakh and particularly in the Siachen glacier, you have not arrived! The lucky few, who get posted to Ladakh, are inarguably among the best helicopter pilots in the world.
Just consider this: In the 1990s, the record for highest mountain rescue in the world was from Mount Everest at 19,500 feet; Indian helicopter pilots land at 20,000 feet four times a day, every day! The Austrian Air Forces’ High Altitude Training School for helicopters is located at 9,750 feet! In India, Leh itself is at 11,000 feet!
As aviators who have had the privilege of flying under 114 HU say, ‘no amount of money can buy you the experience of landing at Sonam—the world’s highest helipad—or the satisfaction of pulling out a sick soldier battling the odds on the Glacier.’
Simply put, the helicopters, both of the IAF and from a later date of the Army Aviation Corps, are a lifeline for Siachen. Without these machines and the magnificent flying men, India would have had great difficulty in defending the high passes on the Saltoro ridge overlooking the Siachen glacier.
But it is not easy.
The shelling may have stopped since November 2003 when India and Pakistan agreed to a ceasefire, but other challenges remain.
The men and machines continue to face the vagaries of extreme cold weather and formidable terrain. Like troops on the ground (see separate chapter on health issues), pilots too face acute mountain sickness (AMS), High Altitude Pulmonary Oedema (HAPO), High Altitude Cerebral Oedema (HACO), snow blindness, sunburns, hypothermia, chill blains and frost bite. In addition, pilots face constant discomfort and fatigue due to the extreme cold (remember the temperature goes down to minus 60 degrees Celsius in winter), vibrations in the helicopter, risk of hypoxia, lack of concentration and as they some times say ‘white out’—a perception and spatial disorientation due to the terrain. When the glacier and its surroundings are totally covered with thick snow, pilots sometimes have no reference points while flying. In other terrains they at least have a cliff, a valley or flat ground as a reference, but on the glacier where there is nothing but snow, just pristine white snow all over, pilots can get totally disoriented since everything around them appears two instead of three dimensional! As a pilot describes it: “The ‘white out’ can occur on a cloudy day when the skies are grey and the earth and sky appear to merge because there is no contrast of bare rocks, boulders and ridges that stand out so clearly in sunlight. Depth perception is impaired and a pilot must be careful not to get hypnotised because of concentrating too hard.”
A lonely chopper on the glacier
But if pilots face extreme odds, the machines are not spared either. Prolonged operations in the higher range of its in-built flight envelope in Ladakh, has repeatedly caused structural and engine problems in the Cheetah fleet. Temperature extremes, strong winds, rarefied atmosphere has often damaged the structural frame of the helicopters. Pilots and technical officers in Army Aviation as well as the IAF have noticed frequent rupture of tubular members, cracks on welded joints; rubberised components like gaskets and seals lose their efficiency; the engines face thermal stress and are prone to—like the one that was changed on Amar—surges.
The role of the men on the ground—the technicians—is perhaps more important in Ladakh than anywhere else, simply because there is no margin of error in these difficult conditions. To keep an aircraft flying six hours a day, seven days a week means the technical and ground staff have to be constantly on their toes. The quantum of flying by helicopters under 114 HU is perhaps four times that of any other unit in the IAF. And yet, the technicians cope with the demand admirably. In sub-zero temperatures, the hands don’t work. What many of us don’t know is that extreme cold can also cause ‘cold burns.’ One has to be extremely careful in handling metallic objects. If bare skin so much as touches metal, the skin can just get peeled off. So gloves are a must, but then all mechanical work is not possible with gloves!
A typical day at 114 HU begins an hour before sunrise. The technicians get the machines ready, checking for any small defect or shortcoming. No chances are taken. If there is even a minor fault, the helicopter is grounded. Retired Air Marshal KC Cariappa had been part of the heavy lift Mi-8 helicopter team that had supported the 1981 expedition by Col Kumar. He later spent four days flying with 114 HU pilots in 1992. He came away awe-struck at the guts and professionalism of the pilots and the sheer dedication of the Army soldiers.
In 1999, Air Marshal Cariappa described his experiences in an article he wrote for the Flight Safety Magazine. “The day would start with a 7.30 am take off from Leh to cross the 18,000 feet Khardung La. The climb out, after takeoff required all attention, as we flew over the boulder-strewn narrow gullies and sometimes steep, nearly vertical slopes. There was no question of ‘relaxing’ because we were always fairly close to the ground, and any malfunction demanded instant reaction to prevent the chopper from crashing. Once the pass had been crossed, I would breathe a sigh of relief as we could now start the long, shallow descent to Base Camp at the snout of the glacier where the River Nubra had its source. In summer, the Base Camp appears unkempt; it is dirty brown and is an environmentalist’s nightmare, because melting snows reveal the detritus of human habitation. But, in winter all is starched, stark whiteness with only rocks that are too steep to permit accumulation of snow, breaking the monotony. On landing at Base Camp we would switch off, get the helicopter refuelled and take on a mere 25 kg of mail or other supplies for a designated picket. After takeoff and en route our destination, the colour of the glacier would change from dirty brown to almost pristine, blinding white. We could see tiny deep blue pools shimmering in the sun, and look down at the awesome, frozen and seemingly bottomless depths or forbidding crevasses from where there can be no rescue. From time to time, we would fly over small columns of
troops heading up the glacier to relieve their comrades. They would be ‘roped’ to each other as a precaution, should someone stumble into a crevasse if an ice bridge were to give way….”
A tiny speck in the sky but perhaps the most important machine at Siachen
“After about 20 minutes of flying, the first indication that we were near our destination would be when the men there, on hearing our ‘chopper’ would light up smoke candles to indicate wind direction and its speed. The approach to land had to be perfect the first time, because in this rarefied atmosphere everything is critical: the angle of approach, the speed rate of descent and the weight of the aircraft. There is no margin for error. On touch down the engine revolutions would be decreased. The troops would scamper up quickly to off-load, and within seconds we would be on our way back to Base Camp. Time is always of the essence here. It is important to get in as many sorties as possible, because who knows what the weather the next day would be like. For the next sorties the load would be somewhat increased, this time to perhaps 50 kg, because we would be that much lighter having consumed some amount of fuel on the outbound and return legs. After four or five such missions, we would switch off to refuel, during which time the technicians would check out the helicopter and prepare it for the next round of sorties. While this was going on we would refresh ourselves with steaming mugs of hot tea and some food. We would then lift off again to fly a few more sorties before 1 pm. Because of topographical reasons, the valley gets extremely turbulent in the mountains. There are violent vertical currents that can toss a light helicopter like a feather in a storm…”
A few words about the helipads: “These are located at heights varying between 14,000 and 21,000 feet. They have been stamped down and hardened by the boots of innumerable troops who then cover the surface with wooden planks to provide a firm surface needed to take the weight of the ‘chopper.’ The helipads are some 15 square feet and when viewed from air appear to be miniscule, which in fact they are. While coming in to land in the summer months, the helipad merges with the background if the approach angle is too shallow, but once the touchdown is affected, one realises that the chopper is actually sitting on a ‘table-top’ some 1.5 feet above the surrounding area. Hence, the necessity of a perfect approach because the slightest error could lead to a catastrophic incident…”
Overcoming nature’s huge challenge
Summer operations are always considered more hazardous than those in winter, because of reduced engine power that is available to the pilot. Perhaps the analogy of driving a car whose engine is ‘tuned’ for driving in the plains and then is taken up into the hills, will illustrate the point being made about the loss of power. Then there are numerous crevasses which criss-cross one’s route and from where the chances of rescue are remote should a helicopter crash into one of them (see ‘The Chopper in a crevasse’ photo). In the winter however, the situation is very different. The engine performs much better, and the helipad sizes seem to be larger, because the amount of snow has increased and had risen to the level of the helipad; even the crevasses disappear…This then is what our intrepid soldiers and airmen are confronted with on the Siachen glacier. No amount of praise is enough and no paeans adequate to tell of their heroic deeds and acts of heroism.”
In later years, the Army also acquired the Cheetahs and Army Aviation pilots, along with their IAF colleagues continue to serve at Siachen against all weather odds, sustaining the deployment of Indian Army troops throughout the year.
Mi-17, the heavy duty load carrier
The Cheetah
Flying against all weather odds
Dropping vital supplies in most difficult areas
VIII
Getting the Logistics Right
‘Here the hepter, doctor and porter are our real Gods’
As the financial year draws to an end in March, every government department and organisation in India is busy finalising and reconciling accounts.
In Leh, the headquarters of 14 Corps, two Brigadiers in charge of ordnance and supplies have much more important issues than balancing the credit and debit columns.
As winter shows the first signs of receding, and the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) engineers get down to the task of opening the two passes—Zoji La and Baralalcha La—that connect Ladakh to the rest of the country, the two Brigadiers in Leh start monitoring the movement of supplies that have been contracted for the coming year.
Although the Zoji La and Baralalcha La do not become viable for heavy traffic until the middle of April—they are under 8 to 10 feet of snow for over six months in winters—a meticulous timetable is already in place to ensure that a convoy of trucks starts flowing into Ladakh, carrying all kinds of provisions, ranging from tents and snow clothing to ammunition and from fruit juice to high calorie chocolates.
Given that the window for stocking up for the rest of the year is only between April and early November after which the passes close again, and the fact that a full-fledged Army Corps (60,000 troops) is now deployed in Ladakh, the challenges of maintaining the logistics chain have increased manifold. The planning actually begins 18 months in advance, the two brigadiers tell me explaining the complex operation. The Army has established ‘ordnance echelons’ at key locations along the long supply chain. Trucks bearing various items begin to move after receiving indications that the passes are open and repaired to take the load. The sequence of travel and loading and unloading is all decided a year in advance.
The Khargdung La top
As the convoys begin their journey from the plains of Punjab, enter Himachal Pradesh or Jammu, depending on their ultimate destination and then traverse the high passes, officers in the Army’s ordnance and supply branches get busier. They have to keep tabs on the progress of these convoys coming into Ladakh, either on the Manali-Baralalcha La-Leh road or the Jammu-Banihal-Srinagar-Zoji La-Kargil-Leh route. The long distances and difficult, narrow roads add to the challenge that the truck drivers face. In the summer months, tourists travelling by these roads often encounter these convoys, and many of us would instinctively curse the truck drivers for slowing down, or sometimes even blocking traffic. But, next time any one of you comes across these trucks, give a little thought to the vital tasks they are performing. Without these uncomplaining truckers who take tremendous risks driving in the high altitudes, soldiers deployed in the harsh terrain across Ladakh would not be get their essential supplies in time!
The author at Khardung La, October 2013
For Siachen, the trucks have to cross another hurdle, the formidable Khardung La (at 18,380 feet it is considered the world’s highest motorable pass) and then travel another 200-odd km to get to the Siachen base camp or the farthest base in the Turtuk sector. Not every truck has to go up to Siachen base camp though. Over decades, the Army has established various nodes, where depending on the importance of the equipment or provisions, stocking is done. Every three months, stocks are pushed forward either to their final destination, or are kept in transit. An estimated 1,80,000 tonnes of provisions are needed every year in Ladakh.
Soldiers at Siachen Base Camp
Board at Base Camp cautioning against blind superstition
After years of bureaucratic jostling, special rations are now provided to troops at high altitudes. In Ladakh, two categories of High Altitude Rations exist. The first category is for those living on altitudes between 9,000 and 12,000 feet. The second for those stationed above 12,000 feet. In Siachen, it must be emphasised, the Base Camp itself is at 12,000 feet! After a detailed study, it was decided that every soldier who gets deployed on Siachen must get 6,000 calories per day diet. So, specially selected food items that include, chocolates, beverages, eggs and dry fruits, are specially flown to the glacier. In fact, soldiers have the option to choose from over a dozen special items to eat, in addition to those available at the Base Camp and lower altitudes.
For every battalion that gets deployed on Siachen, fresh supplies have to be provided. At the very least, 12 units
get rotated in a year on Siachen. Then there are personnel from other arms. So, on an average, about 15,000 to 20,000 troops get deployed by turns on the glacier in a year! The highest priority however is to supply Category I and Category II items. They include snow clothing, gloves, three pairs of socks, jacket down, triple-layer snow suits and survival essentials like an ice axe and crampons. None of these are supposed to be reusable.
Soldiers in full winter gear listening to instructions at the Siachen Battle School
The special boots
Gloves and goggles
For the logistician, there is no room for error. When the trucks are unloaded at various points, the stocks have to be divided into ‘air portable’ or parachute compatible weights. They have to be stored in accordance with the priority of dispatch. Come blizzard or avalanche, the loads in any case have to be carried every day.
Once the provisions are sorted out, stacked and ready for dispatch at various locations, helicopters take over. The larger, sturdier Russian built Mi-17s carry heavier loads. They are not able to land on every small helipad on the glacier. They also have limitations of ‘hover’ at such altitudes, but are indispensable in dropping, guns, ammunition, tents, snow scooters and spare parts since equipment failure is frequent on the glacier. After all, despite their best intentions, no defence manufacturers would have anticipated the extreme conditions that prevail on the Siachen glacier. The Mi-17s with their ability to carry heavy loads are as indispensible as the lighter Cheetahs. The Mi-17s operate from three places—Leh, Thoise and Base Camp—and have a busy schedule throughout the year.
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