Line of Control- A Thriller on the Coming War in Asia

by Mainak Dhar

  The PAF F-15s had been counting on the E-3 to guide them in, and were uplinking the E-3 radar display onto their screens, when the screens suddenly went blank. The ECM cover of the E-3 gone, their RWRs began screaming out warnings of IAF radars locking on as they turned their own radars on. The four Airguards really had no idea on what was going on, and with their own short-ranged radar, they could still not see the IAF fighters screaming towards them.

  ***

  Thapa and his men were now standing, watching as the ramp behind the transport was lowered. Thapa had done over a hundred jumps, but this was the first time he was going into real combat.

  Each man checked his gun and ammunition one more time. Thapa’s eyes were glued to the light near the ramp, which was currently glowing red. As soon as it turned green, Thapa and his men would begin jumping. To avoid falling behind enemy lines, their drop zone began three kilometers to the southeast of Uri.

  As the light turned green, Thapa was the first to jump, wondering what he was getting into as he floated into the blackness of the night.

  ***

  Two MiGs caught the AWACS fifteen kilometers from its destination, the PAF base at Sargodha. The E-3 pilot made a desperate attempt to get away, but he never had a chance. Two R-73s hit the big plane, destroying both its port engines, as the E-3 plummeted to the ground. The MiGs turned around to rejoin the air battle.

  For the Airguards, the first salvo proved decisive. Four Sukhois had swept in at them from behind, guided by the Indian AWACS, catching them unawares. Six R-27s rocketed through the sky, exploding three of the PAF fighters. The fourth turned for home, trailing smoke from a near miss.

  The F-15s were mixing it up with the MiG-29s. With four versus six, the odds were against the PAF pilots, but they put up a brave stand. An F-15 pilot scored the first kill, turning inside a MiG and shredding its cockpit with cannon fire. The Indians got back as a Fulcrum fired two R-73s at point blank range. One missed, but the other tracked in, destroying the Eagle. Another MiG fired a long burst from its 30mm cannon and a dozen shells ripped apart an Eagle’s wing, as the pilot ejected. Then the Eagles struck back as one of the PAF fighters scored a direct hit with a Sidewinder missile. But within a second, another Eagle fell to an R-73 fired by one of the Sukhois that had rejoined the battle, before the last remaining F-15 turned for home.

  As the Indian fighters regrouped to take stock of their losses, they knew the balance in the air over Kashmir had just tilted dramatically in their favor.

  ***

  Thapa rolled and came up in a crouch as he hit the ground. He immediately unharnessed and packed his chute and began looking for his men. The designated meeting point was a meadow three kilometers from Uri. He set out at a fairly brisk trot, and when Thapa got there, he found his men waiting for him.

  `Everyone accounted for?’

  The burly Subedar saluted formally.

  `Yes sir. All except Tej and Nar Bahadur. We’re trying to cut them down from the tree, sir. They thought playing Tarzan may scare away the Pakis faster.’

  All the men around broke out in laughter, and Thapa joined in. A bit of humor wasn’t a bad thing-it showed his men still had the nerve to go into battle.

  `Okay, men, gather around.’

  He drew a rectangle on the ground with his bayonet.

  `This is Uri. Company A and B go to the North West of the city and secure the outskirts-that’s where the Mujahideen are reported to be regrouping to wait for their Pakistani fathers. You will set up a defensive perimeter here and here. Company B will follow and Company C, block the Southwest so those bastards can’t get back in. Company D will come with me. We’ll link up with our boys and start mopping up inside.’

  The men grunted agreement, and then set out, weapons at the ready.

  ***

  Khosla thought Sen looked as excited as a small child who has just got some gift he long craved for.

  `Sir, it’s unbelievable! We knocked out an AWACS and seven PAF fighters for the loss of only three MiGs. It’s the biggest victory in the air so far.’

  Khosla had read the report and was ready with his question, `Sen, that’s great. But what happened? Those PAF guys haven’t been so dumb so far.’

  Sen looked positively sheepish, `Actually, Sir, I have no idea. It seems their AWACS turned off all her systems and ran for home.’

  `And the second?’

  `No sign of it, Sir. I’d guess they might have malfunctioned.’

  Khosla had always been one never to believe in too many coincidences, and he wasn’t about to start now.

  `Maybe, Sen, maybe. But I find it hard to believe that both AWACS could have just konked off at the same time. Anyway, are our boys in?’

  `Yes, Sir. The Pakistanis are on the verge of reaching Uri. We should be ready for them.’

  Sen got up to leave. As he opened the door, he found Joshi about to enter. The two men exchanged greetings and Joshi shut the door behind him when he came in.

  Khosla looked up to see his Intelligence Chief with his trademark worried expression. It was joked that his expression never changed, no matter what happened.

  `Joshi, so finally we have some good news in Kashmir.’

  `Sir, I don’t know if it’s good or not.’

  `What do..’

  `Sir, this just came in from the Patriot. Basically, the PAF has no idea what happened. Literally, the radars just shut off in mid air, as if someone had just turned them off. They think we’ve got some means of jamming the AWACS.’

  `Which we don’t. I don’t think anyone could do such a thing.’

  `Except the Americans.’

  Khosla nearly jumped in his chair.

  `What are you saying. How could they do this?’

  `Most likely they would have put a bug in the systems before selling the planes. These are, think of them as time bomb viruses. Like other computer viruses, except that they are activated on command, for example from a satellite. We know the French and Americans do this on their advanced weapon systems.’

  `But why would the Americans help us after remaining silent for so long?’

  `Sir, they hate that Emir much more than us-and frankly, he can develop into a major threat for them. They probably wanted to ensure he isn’t strengthened too much.’

  `Joshi, that’s fine. But there is no such thing as a free lunch. If they did do this, I wonder what they’ll want from us.’

  ***

  Lieutenant General Sandhu was sitting calmly on a small folding chair, sipping a cup of tea, almost oblivious to the bustle around him. He got up slowly and walked to his command vehicle, a converted armored personnel carrier. A dozen things were going through his mind. On his command, the XIth Corps would launch the largest armored attack in the subcontinent’s history, and he had to be sure he had everything worked out.

  He was less than ten kilometers from the frontline. Sandhu would not have entertained any notion of staying back and directing the battle from some room in Delhi. He would, of course, not take part in combat directly, but he wanted to be as close as possible.

  He looked at his aide and nodded. `Okay, let’s begin Operation Payback.’

  Those who had fought in earlier Indo-Pakistani wars would have found it hard to relate to the way this war was going to be conducted. The first to cross over the border were not tanks, or even IAF strike planes. They were six unmanned Searcher planes. The six craft flew over the border at a leisurely 200 knots, their cameras sending back details of Pakistani artillery batteries and defensive emplacements. They were too small to be picked up on any Pakistani radar. The E-3s may have had a chance, but they were no longer in the picture. Also, at just over two meters long and powered by two turboprops, they did not give off enough of a heat signature to be a likely victim to heat seeking SAMs. The only way they could probably be downed was to be hit by a very accomplished, or lucky, ack-ack gunner. The fact that at 5000 feet, their small size made them almost invisible, made even this a remote possibility.

/>   Back at his command center, Sandhu was piecing together the pieces of an intricate jigsaw puzzle, which when completed, would show him in precise detail exactly what he was up against. From what he already knew, he was going to up against tough odds. The Pakistanis seemed to have at least 250 T-80s facing him, along with two or more infantry divisions. The T-80s would definitely be a huge headache, and throw in the Pakistani’s Cobra attack helicopters, and he knew that his tankers would pay a heavy price for any advance into Pakistan. What he knew he could count on was that the Indian Air Force was promising heavy support now that it could divert a lot of assets which had been tied up in the fighting over Kashmir. Also, a constant worry for the Indians had been that the Pakistanis would swing one or both AWACS from over Kashmir to the plains. That would complicate things a bit, as the AWACS could also help them locate ground targets like artillery concentrations. The unexpected news that the PAF AWACS were no longer operating, and one had in fact been shot down, had caused Sandhu to accelerate his schedule, without some of the painstaking methods he had devised to camouflage and conceal his artillery concentrations.

  Pakistan had UAVs of its own, much like the Indian Searcher, and some in fact with better cameras and sensors. However, with the PAF AWACS gone, and the Indian AWACS still very much active over the battlefield, the Indians had a huge advantage in tracking these PAF UAVs and directing ground fire towards them. At least three Pakistani UAVs had already been shot down by concentrated ground fire as they tried to probe the Indian positions. The Indians had so far lost only one UAV, and in the critical battle of intelligence, India was beginning with a distinct advantage. The neutralization of the AWACS was going to have much wider repercussions than just the Battle for Uri.

  Sandhu’s staff had been collating information on Pakistani force displacements for some days now, and he had a fair idea of where he could expect the toughest resistance when he did give the order to advance. But his first target was to be the Pakistani artillery, to prevent them from hitting his forces when they moved in. And now, as he marked positions on his map, the Searchers were relaying back exact positions of Pakistani artillery batteries near Wagah and Atau, both within thirty kilometers of the border.

  Sandhu did not want to wait for perfect knowledge-as soon as he had a rough idea of the positions, he gave the order to fire.

  It sounded like a giant thunderstorm. Men all around stood or crouched with cotton in their ears, otherwise they would have been deafened. Over two hundred Indian artillery pieces opened up in a deadly salvo, raining death on their Pakistani counterparts. The Pakistanis had two artillery regiments near Atau and at Wagah. The first salvo destroyed nearly a third of the guns at Atau, and only slightly less at Wagah.

  The stunned Pakistani gunners now began to swing into action, but their strength had already been depleted. They did not have an exact fix on the Indian positions, as they had neither UAVs nor AWACS, but they worked back the trajectories of the Indian shells using their superior artillery targeting radar, and responded with salvos of their own.

  Sandhu knew that he would take serious losses in the initial exchanges. The Pakistani gunners were superb, and their US made howitzers the equal of his guns. But he had the element of almost complete surprise and a far better picture of where the enemy was, and after the first couple of salvos, the Pakistani artillery had ceased to be a decisive factor on the battlefield.

  The Indian tanks and APCs now swarmed across the border. And for the first time in over thirty years, the armies of India and Pakistan met in all out war.

  ***

  Singh looked at the four Su-30s parked on the tarmac, being loaded for the mission. Two aircraft, including his plane, were being loaded with two Kh-31P radar homing missiles apiece, along with two 130mm rocket pods and a battery of six air-to-air missiles-two medium range R-27s and four short range R-73s. The other two carried the same air-to air load, but each carried four canisters of anti-runway cluster bombs.

  He walked back to his office and went over plans for the mission one more time. It would be by far, the most challenging and dangerous mission any of the pilots had ever flown. He considered himself lucky that the AWACS were not around anymore, but even without them, this was going to be a real bitch.

  Goel walked in at that moment, and for once, saw worry in Singh’s eyes.

  `Hey, boss, it’s gonna be cool. Don’t sweat.’

  Singh smiled wanly at him and walked out.

  Goel knew he sounded far more confident than he felt inside.

  ***

  FIFTEEN

  He who is skilled in attack flashes forth from the topmost heights of Heaven.

  - Sun Tzu

  Rahman had taken an instant liking for Thapa-and his men had welcomed the paras warmly. The night had been a small celebration of sorts, with the men digging out whatever food and drink they could find. Bottles of rum had miraculously appeared, and the local guides supplied meat, which was cooked over an open fire near the school. The Mujahideen had retreated to the city’s outskirts, and Rahman had let his men indulge themselves, knowing the next day would bring intense fighting.

  The Pakistani regular troops were now only twenty kilometers away and fast approaching artillery range. Thankfully, in this terrain, it was difficult to get the bigger artillery pieces up fast, otherwise Pakistani shells would already have been raining down on Rahman and his men.

  As morning broke, Rahman did not have to wait very long for the message he knew would signal the onset of the day’s fighting.

  `Fox 1, heads up. Our friends have begun moving. Expect some help from our friends in the air.’

  Rahman listened to the message on the radio, and began directing his men. Over the past four days, the mysterious Hawk had been a constant companion and this UAV had become a symbol of hope for Rahman’s beleaguered men.

  As he looked up, he could see six MiG-27s sweeping in over Uri, heading for the Pakistani artillery. Rahman and Thapa looked up at the dagger shaped silhouettes as the men cheered the fighters on.

  The Pakistanis had made rapid progress, safe in the knowledge that the IAF could not get at them easily. They did not yet know how dramatically things had changed in the air.

  The Pakistani Colonel in charge of the force that was to link up with the Mujahideen was caught completely by surprise as the MiGs dove in. There were hundreds of troops and vehicles in the open, but the Indian fighters had their targets clearly identified-the dozen 88mm towed artillery pieces the Pakistanis had bought with them.

  The MiGs dove in after the artillery, firing rockets. The first pass knocked out four of the guns, and the Pakistanis tried to regroup and return fire. A couple of Stingers were fired at the Indian planes, but the Pakistanis did not have time to get good locks, and the missiles flew on harmlessly. The MiGs had circled around and were coming for their second pass when the PAF appeared.

  The PAF Base Commander at Abbotabad knew the odds were stacked against him, but hearing the Pakistani Army commander’s cries for help, he decided he would give it one last try. In past conflicts, the PAF had been severely criticized for not helping out the ground forces much and instead focusing too much on the more glamorous, but strategically less critical aspect of pure air to air combat. The Commander at Abbotabad had been personally ordered by Karim not to let this happen again, at least in the critical Uri Sector.

  Four F-7 Airguards came in after the MiGs, causing them to abort their runs. As the Indian attack planes dove to evade the PAF fighters, four Indian MiG-29s joined the battle. The Indian AWACS had detected the F-7s as soon as they crossed the border and had directed the Fulcrums to them.

  In the short, sharp dogfight that followed, two F-7s were shot down without loss to the Indian fighters. The two remaining PAF fighters turned for home. That was the last time the PAF was seen over Uri.

  ***

  Pooja could sense the excitement and anticipation in everyone around. The XI Corps had launched its offensive just hours ago, and the XIIth
was scheduled to launch its offensive the next morning.

  Men seemed to be milling around everywhere, and there was a sense of disorder, even chaos, as equipment was checked, letters written, and calls made. So, what is the Colonel up to now? wondered Pooja, looking around for Chauhan.

  She went to his cabin, and found the door ajar. As she walked in, the first thing that struck her was the total darkness. Chauhan was sitting in a corner, his head in his hands.

  `Excuse me. Are you feeling all right?’

  `Please go away. I want to be alone.’

  Pooja began to walk out but something held her back. She walked towards the Army officer and turned the light on. Chauhan was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes red. On the table in front of him was a half-empty bottle of rum.

  Pooja sat down next to him. `Is everything all right?’

  `None of your…’, Chauhan turned to retort, but stopped when he looked into her eyes.

  `Listen, Dev, is it okay if I call you that?’

  As Chauhan nodded, she continued speaking, `I don’t know what’s wrong, or if I can help at all, but sometimes it just helps to talk to someone, to get the load off your chest. If you’d like to talk about it, I’m there.’

  Chauhan remained silent for a few seconds. As Pooja got up to leave, Chauhan held her hand.

  `Sit down.’

  And then he began talking. He told her of the intense pressure to perform, to make it as an Army officer, of a father who had never reached the top in the Army and fiercely wanted to live his dreams through his only son. He talked of that fateful evening two years ago, when everything had gone up in flames.

  It had been a routine training exercise till things began to go horribly wrong. The main gun on his T-72 jammed and misfired. It was a one in a million accident and the shell exploded. The tank caught fire within seconds. Of the four men in the tank, two got out and scampered to safety. The gunner, Ram Lal, was lying in a pool of blood. Thinking him to be dead, Chauhan had begun to climb out himself. Then he heard the screams. Ram Lal was alive and begging Chauhan to help him out. Chauhan was outside the turret, standing on the burning tank, and from between the sheet of flames, could just make out Ram Lal, frantically waving his arms. Chauhan tried to reach in, but only burnt his hands badly in the attempt. The heat was so strong, merely standing on the tank made it seem like his feet had caught fire. But he thought that if he just held on a bit longer, he could have pulled Ram Lal out.