by Vivek Ahuja
As dozens of yellow tracers and cannon rounds shuddered past the cockpit above his head, Khurana missed a heartbeat and pulled his control stick to the right and dived to the side. Behind him a Su-27 did the same. Crews from both sides had seen their comrades blown to smithereens in this battle.
It was all personal now.
As Khurana was pulling his aircraft down into an accelerating dive towards the hills below, he was scanning two other potential dangers in front of him in addition to the enraged Su-27 driver diving in behind him, guns blazing. His HUD was showing that the fuel level was getting dangerously low. It was not all the way into the red yet, but it was getting there. The Mig-29 was not a high endurance fighter designed for extended combat. And it showed. Khurana realized that the Chinese guys in the Su-27s had no such worries.
Secondly, his HUD was indicating no remaining air-to-air missiles save for a single R-77 hanging off his port wing. Only a hundred odd rounds of gun ammo remained in his Mig-29 now. In comparison, Khurana had seen the half a dozen or more weapons still hanging from some of the Su-27s in the skies around him. The Sukhoi bird was much larger than the Mig-29 and carried a lot more weapons. Additionally, there were fewer Indian Mig-29s than there were Su-27s in the skies over Ladakh. It was now getting to the point that the Indians were in serious risk of being outgunned, outnumbered, out of ammo and then out of fuel. The battle could not go on for too much longer.
We cannot disengage either...
Khurana thought of options as he flipped his aircraft yet again to evade another slashing pass from the Su-27 behind him with the latter’s tracers streaking by the cockpit. He punched off another round of flares and realized that sooner or later they would empty too. Khurana was having difficulty losing his attacker who was clearly an experienced pilot and not a rookie like his earlier two kills...
“Claw-One, this is Talon-Seven! I have the bugger on your tail in my sights. Break left on my mark. Let’s see if I can shove an R-60 up this guy’s jet pipe.”
“Roger that! On your mark!” Khurana shouted back as he evaded another burst of cannon fire. A few long seconds later the radio squawked again:
“Break left, now!”
Khurana didn’t hesitate and flipped his aircraft to the left. The Su-27 pilot attempted the same before an R-60 missile slammed right into his port engine exhaust.
This time, however, the aircraft disappeared into a ball of fire as the primary on-board fuel storage exploded. Khurana felt the jolt from the shockwave not more than a few hundred meters behind him as a massive flash appeared from the rear and flared out his night-vision. He jerked his head to see the other Mig-29 appear from behind the earthbound fireball and streak upwards into the starlit sky.
“Claw-One to Talon-Seven: plenty thanks! One more down! Let’s see who else is out there!” Khurana shouted over the radio and started breathing again. He could hear his heart pounding inside his chest.
But the battle was not over.
“Talon-Seven here. I see three bandits and two friendlies at three o’clock high. Can’t find any other friendlies though...”
Damn!
What the hell happened to the rest of Claw and Talon flights?
“Claw-One, this is Eagle-Eye-One. We show inbound J-10s on our scopes. Ten bandits from Kashgar heading south for the Karakoram peaks. Angels twenty, bearing three-four-zero. Over.”
“Eagle-Eye-One, this is Claw-One. We cannot, repeat: cannot, engage! We are getting chewed out over here! Requesting priority assistance! We need help over here right freaking now!”
OVER HIMACHAL PRADESH
DAY 1 + 1945 HRS
“Roger, Claw-One. Standby,” the flight controller looked back at Verma who in turn walked over to the other flight controllers. No. 28 Squadron had done the job of buying time for the Indian fighters to deploy. Verma checked the radar data and confirmed the controller’s speculations. He then nodded his approval to commit the incoming fighters and ordered the release of the Su-30s on station.
Thirty seconds later the flight-leader for the eight Su-30s of No. 17 Squadron spoke over the radio with the rest of his flight:
“Okay people, it’s time for the big dogs to enter the fight. Time to show everyone how this is done.”
A few seconds after that the eight Su-30s punched engine reheat in unison and streaked across the skies towards the north...
OVER LADAKH
DAY 1 + 1950 HRS
“All Claw and Talon elements: disengage! I say again: disengage! Let’s get out of here!”
Khurana shouted out over his radio as the first fuel warning audio tone sounded out in his ears. The squadron had been committed for far too long in a battle far too drawn out for his liking. They had received heavy casualties and handed out even worse.
But now it was time to leave: nearly all fighters were out of weapons and now also nearly out of fuel.
Khurana flipped the aircraft to the side and pulled back on the stick to pull the aircraft out in the opposite direction followed quickly by Talon-Seven, his new wingman. Three other Mig-29s visible as mere black specks against the greenish view of the night-vision optics were making similar movements.
Both sides were now thrusting in fresh fighters to this melee. The Chinese were pulling back their surviving Su-27s and sending in a bunch of J-10s and the Indian commanders pulling out survivors of No. 28 Squadron and committing a bunch of Su-30s from No. 17 Squadron to replace the losses. Khurana and his men were now detecting friendly radar signatures of a single Su-30 coming north. Khurana smiled to himself when he saw that because he knew the J-10 pilots were seeing the same.
Only difference was, he knew what was wrong with that picture.
The second act of the air battle over Ladakh was a shadow of the one before it. The Su-27s had hoped to draw out the Indian Sukhoi fighters in a critical battle to wrest control of the skies. That effort had been frustrated by the Indian No. 28 Squadron. Now their J-10s were coming up against a barrage of Indian Su-30s.
One Sukhoi is capable of painting targets for others, and the J-10 crews never saw how many of their opponents were stacked up against them until they actually reached within range of their own radars. And this far to the south, the KJ-2000 was also operating at the extreme edge of its detection range. When the J-10 radars did go active, they lit up the eight spread out Indian Sukhois boring down on them. By that time several R-77 missiles were already in the air and heading towards the J-10s. And at this range, those crucial seconds were everything.
The leading J-10 was blown out of the sky right from the front of the formation of ten it was leading. It shattered under the impact of the missile in full view of the other pilots. The red-hot shrapnel cut into two other aircrafts even as the others dived left and right. Three more J-10s received direct hits in that opening salvo. In return, four J-10s managed to get multiple rounds into the air moments before a second salvo of R-77s slammed into their ranks like the scythe of death and wiped off two more J-10s. But the losses were not one way, and a single Su-30 fell from the sky in a ball of fire as the laws of probability caught up with its crew against the swarms of incoming Chinese missiles.
But the battle was already over. The two remaining J-10s decided to call it a bad day and began punching out clouds of chaff and flares before diving into the relative safety of their S-300 kill zones around the Aksai chin.
The No. 17 Squadron flight-leader decided to let it go at that. There was no need to lose more of their own in return for chasing a bunch of J-10s.
Besides, we will be here if they ever decide to come back...he thought. A moment later he switched his comms over to the Phalcon:
“Eagle-Eye-One, the skies are clear of all things red. Now how about we kill those four F-16s and call it a day?”
“Negative, Griffon-One. Replace Claw and Talon and assume BARCAP positions. The war isn’t over yet. Eagle-Eye-One out.”
OVER NORTHERN HIMACHAL PRADESH
DAY 1 + 2020 HRS
Fi
ve survivors...
Nine shot down. Seven confirmed dead...
Including the Wing-Co...My god!
Khurana raised the night-vision goggles and rubbed his eyes with his gloved fingers before lowering them down again. The moonlight was reflecting off the fuselage and vertical stabilizer of the massive No. 78 Squadron Il-78 tanker cruising several hundred meters ahead. The three refueling hoses were extended into the winds. Khurana saw the refueling controller sitting in what was originally the gunner’s position in the transport version of the same aircraft. The controller’s voice was on the radio but Khurana was barely listening. His mind was going over the statistics of the battle.
The Phalcon had confirmed during their flight back south that only five Mig-29s out of the original fourteen were still in the air. The squadron commander was among the dead and that list included six other pilots. Two remaining pilots had ejected over the rocky peaks of eastern Ladakh near the border and over friendly airspace but were still missing among the windswept and snowcapped Ladakh Mountains. Morale wasn’t doing any better either…
“Claw-One, this is Eagle-Eye-One. We are unable to establish contact with Leh tower. The base took heavy enemy cruise-missile attack during the time Claw, Talon and Griffon flights were engaged in combat. Redirect to Avantipur. Leh airbase is currently inoperative. Out,” the radio squawked in Khurana’s ears as he cleanly latched on to the refueling port with two other Mig-29s. The remaining two Mig-29s were already moving towards the other Il-78 in this flight of two aircraft from Agra. As his tanks filled up, he chewed out the new information sent to him.
Leh is shut down...
Of course, those cruise-missile inbounds must have broken through while we were engaged with the Chinese Su-27s.
Damn! Damn! Damn!
And this was just the first day of the war!
What else can go wrong?
KASHGAR AIRBASE
SINKIANG AUTONOMOUS REGION
CHINA
DAY 1 + 2200 HRS
What a disaster!
Feng leaned back in his chair and tossed the papers detailing the losses incurred from the battle on to the table.
The losses in airframes had been staggering.
Five Su-27s had made it back to friendly airspace along with two other J-10s. That amounted to a loss of thirty odd fighters in return for ten of the enemy. The entire Su-27 force under the 6TH Fighter Division had been mauled along with a gaggle of J-10s from the 44TH Fighter Division. The operation had gone wrong at all levels except one.
Well, maybe two...Feng thought as he picked up the report from the table again and read one particular section of it.
The only aspect of the plan that had worked apart from mauling the Indian Mig-29 squadron at Leh had been the simultaneous cruise-missile attacks by the H-6 bombers of the 36TH Bomber Division behind the southbound Su-27s. Leh had been utterly damaged and destroyed as far the latest satellite imagery assessment went.
But the loss of the Su-27s was an unmitigated disaster for this sector of the battlefield. With such large losses, the only component of the air-defense that would hold the Indians at bay were the ground-based S-300s.
Feng had ordered the two KJ-2000s from Korla to patrol further to the north for safety and had ordered the advance of two more batteries of S-300s to the Aksai chin. These were the only aspect of the PLAAF’s regional air defense system that had performed as predicted so far, and were keeping the Indians far to the south. Combined with the data from the KJ-2000s, the S-300s were lethal.
I guess we still have the 111TH Brigade with their J-11s but they will be needed for defending the special mission aircraft and the bombers of the 36TH and 26TH Divisions.
What we have lost is the offensive air power capability. We will need to replace the 16TH Fighter Regiment within the 6TH Fighter Division with some other unit from the mainland…
Feng thought as he walked over to the corner and poured himself some tea. It was going to be a long sleepless night for him tonight.
Well, at least I won’t be alone in that…
Feng smiled for a brief second. The disastrous air battle had widespread consequences for both him and the region. Wencang had personally called Zhigao for a direct explanation of what had happened. Chen had announced his plans to come to Kashgar to be briefed personally on exactly what had happened first thing in the morning. Needless to say, Zhigao was not particularly happy at the moment...
“Leh has definitely been shut down. I cannot see how they can operate aircraft from such a heavily damaged airbase,” Zhigao said as he walked into Feng’s office abruptly. Feng got up from his chair behind the desk and put down his cup of tea. Zhigao seemed to ignore him completely and instead handed him some new satellite images. Zhigao continued:
“That will hurt their ability to bring in heavy reinforcements by air when the ground offensive begins tomorrow.”
Feng nodded agreement.
“Yes. In addition the bases at Chushul, Fukche and Daulat-beg-oldi are well under rocket artillery range. The PLA has assured us that they can shut those forward airbases down when their attack begins. And with the Aksai chin skies secured by our S-300 systems, our ground forces should be able to sweep away the Indian defenses and attain their objectives within the week.”
Zhigao accepted Feng’s assessment with a slight nod. He seemed heavily distracted. It was normal under the circumstances. And Zhigao’s situation was not good. After Wencang and Chen had called, he had also been visited by the regional political commissar for an explanation on his actions. And nobody, Generals and Privates included, liked a nasty visit from the country’s political officers. Whether at home, office or even on the streets.
But Feng could only relate with Zhigao on that, not sympathize. He held Zhigao directly responsible for the rash decisions that led to thirty two pilots dead and a major combat force of high-end fighters eliminated during a critical time in war. People in the People’s Republic of China had been shot for far less severe infractions during peacetime, let alone war…
“Feng, I must enquire what you plan to speak to General Chen when he arrives tomorrow morning,” Zhigao said finally. Feng was surprised by the question and thought he detected something in the man’s voice.
Fear?
“I plan to brief General Chen on our progress thus far in this sector,” Feng said neutrally.
“Cut the nonsense! I demand to know what you intend to say about my actions to him?” Zhigao thundered, his voice cracking under the strain. Feng sighed and looked at the papers on the table below before looking back at Zhigao.
“I think you had better pack your bags. Your war is over.”
day 2
MINISTRY OF DEFENSE
NEW DELHI
DAY 2 + 0330 HRS
“So when does team five cross over?” Basu asked the others.
“Well, their last radio contact two days ago put them here...north of the Kongra-La. Now that place is crawling with PLA ever since this mess began. So my guess is that the team will have to go further west and then cross the Sikkim border between Naku-La and Kongra-La. I would say another two or three days.” Lieutenant-Colonel Ansari said as he pointed out the locations on the paper map on Basu’s table with a pencil.
“Your guess?” Basu asked pointedly.
Ansari put down the pencil and walked back to his seat and sat down. He was wearing the field camouflage uniform now that the war had started with China. He was not even sure why he was here when the rest of SOCOM was preparing strike missions against the Chinese in Tibet.
“Yes. My guess. We don’t micromanage our people. It works best that way. We set up a meeting point on our side of the border and they meet us there. Apart from that and their final destinations, the only people who know the actual paths they will be taking are the actual team members.”
“Okay fine. Point taken. So where are we meeting them on this side of the border?” Basu said as he leaned forward from his seat to look over the map.
Ansari walked over and jabbed his finger at a location marked: Dokung.
“Here.”
“Basu, who do we have up there to meet them?” the other older RAW officer in the room spoke up.
“We have a RAW debriefing team heading there now. They will hold up at the meeting place and debrief the team. SOCOM is also sending a logistics team to resupply the team with whatever they need. We will use the ARC Mi-17 to get the supplies and personnel up there,” Basu said as he continued to look at the location pointed out to him by Ansari.
“The air-force flies Mi-17 resupply flights to the army battalion east of Dokung on a routine basis. It should stay low profile enough I think,” Basu continued.
“How high is this place?”
Ansari fielded that one:
“Around sixteen-thousand feet. I hope your RAW boys are acclimatized to the high altitude because I can assure you they are going to need it. The region around these passes in northern Sikkim is the most inhospitable in the world. You cannot run fifty meters without the wind being knocked out of you. The temperature freezes you up to your bones and you have to walk everywhere you go. And that’s the altitude at which the damn passes are. Our boys in Tibet have to cross altitudes much higher than that to cross over on foot. I don’t know if you noticed, but there is no pass between Naku and Kongra-la. They will have to cross the peaks to be able to come back over to Dokung.”
“And we appreciate their effort, Ansari. But it is time to get them out,” the unnamed RAW man said from the comfort of the sofa. Ansari walked over, sat down in his chair, leaned back and faced the two RAW men in the room:
“Can I ask you something?”
The two intelligence officers looked at each other.
“Ask away,” Basu said finally.