by Vivek Ahuja
“Acquisition! Single aerial drone overhead! Approximately nine-hundred feet above us!” the WSO said urgently.
“Can you engage?” Dutt asked as he struggled to control the high nose-up attitude. The velocity vector had completely reversed and they were accelerating backwards.
“Roger! I have the target! Engaging!”
The helicopter shuddered as the cannon barked several times, lighting up the LCH with the orange-yellow flashes of light. The rounds streaked across and were visible on the FLIR. They missed their target above them.
“Shit! We are not stable enough for accuracy here!” the WSO complained over the comms.
“Roger, but I am struggling with the weather here, buddy. I can’t give you any more stability than what you have right now!” Dutt replied.
“Then we need to get closer!”
“Roger.”
Dutt pushed the LCH nose back down and maxed out the throttle and collective. With the mostly empty loads, the helicopter leapt upwards, gathered high initial rate-of-climb and then began to see that rate bleed off as they gained altitude.
Even so, the gain in the helicopter’s altitude was substantial and Dutt wanted to ensure he wasn’t doing this above the Chinese lines. So he brought in some cyclic and sent his LCH in a climbing spiral under the Chinese UAV above. All through this, the nose of the helicopter remained pointed down and so the FLIR had no visual on the target above.
After a few seconds of groaning climb, Dutt realized he had pushed the LCH as far as it could go. He adjusted the cyclic and terminated the spiral. He brought up the nose of the helicopter again. This time, it didn’t have to go far…
“Target acquired! Two-hundred feet above and attempting escape to the north!” the WSO shouted.
“Looks like the Chinese pilot knows we are out here!” Dutt replied urgently. “Don’t let it escape! Engage! Engage!”
“Roger!”
The helicopter shuddered again as Dutt’s WSO let loose a long burst of fire at the rapidly fleeing UAV. The vast majority of the rounds missed and bracketed the drone in three-dimensional space. But a few caught the port wing and exploded, sending the Chinese drone spiraling out of control.
“Yes!” Dutt exclaimed.
Instantly the sky around the LCH lit up with lines of yellow tracers crisscrossing each other and explosions rocked the helicopter all around.
“Anti-aircraft fire, boss! Get us out of here!” the WSO shouted.
“Shit! Hang on!” Dutt said as he brought the LCH on a southbound vector and dived. They lost several hundred feet of altitude in seconds and he pulled up over the ground low enough to literally see the tank crews from the 43RD Armored Regiment waving at his helicopter.
But there was no time for a victory roll tonight. The weather was already proving dangerous and their small on-board fuel was red-lining as well. Dutt keyed his radio to Sudarshan’s post while managing the flight back to Saser. His heart still beating loudly from the suddenness of it all…
“This is Sickle-One! Skies are clear! I say again, skies are clear! We are R-T-B. You can bring back your R-P-Vs! Over,” Dutt reminded himself to take long breaths under his breathing mask.
“Roger that, Sickle-One! Well done! Get back to base in one piece. The boys on the ground send their regards. Out!”
“And that is what I call a good night!” Dutt’s WSO exclaimed.
“You think so?” Dutt poked as his heart returned to normal rhythm.
“Why not? It’s like this, boss: I…”
The WSO’s comment was cut short as three large tube-like shapes flew overhead below the cloud cover and headed south, their exhausts glowing yellow. They disappeared in the direction of Thoise airbase…
“What the hell were those?”
“Cruise-missiles!” Dutt exclaimed. “Heading to Thoise! We have to warn the Phalcon crew!”
But it was too late.
The distant rumble negated the need: the missiles had struck.
“Oh god! How did they miss them?” the WSO shouted.
“Probably there was nothing they could do,” Dutt replied. “The Chinese must have been engaging our boys above to provide cover for their missiles. There are only so many things we can handle at any given time. Some targets are bound to get hit.”
The WSO sighed: “God help the boys at Thoise!”
Sure enough, the encrypted R/T frequency they had switched to was suddenly alive with chaotic and confused calls from what seemed like a hundred different sources on the ground at Thoise.
OVER SOUTHERN LADAKH
DAY 7 + 2230 HRS
The water in his hands slipped between his fingers as he continued to stare beyond it. When he looked up, he could see the tired eyes staring back at him from the mirror glass above the sink. He rolled up the shoulder sleeves of his olive-green flight-suit and then washed his face. But the thoughts did not leave.
Did we just fail?
Did I miss something?
No. We did our best. We…I…threw everything we had at them. There were bound to be leaks. But damn it to hell!
Verma stood straighter inside the small washroom of the crew-rest area on board the Phalcon. He rubbed his forehead with his wet hands as the events of the last few hours played back yet again in his mind.
There must have been something that we could have been done differently!
“Nothing we could do, buddy! We did what we could,” the Group-Captain piloting the aircraft stood in the doorway to the tiny room. He threw Verma a small towel. Verma wiped his face and then pulled himself straighter as he walked out of the washroom. Both senior officers saw the various operators at their consoles in the cavernous interior of the aircraft.
“So why does it feel like we failed?” Verma asked.
“This is war! There are going to be casualties. Get used to it. Just make sure that we kill more of them than we lose ours. And so far you are doing well. We lost three of our own tonight and brought down at a dozen of theirs. Older J-8IIs and a handful of J-11s make for a decent total. They threw their fighters as cover for their cruise-missiles. Same shit they have pulling for the last week! They are willing to trade the lives of a dozen of their pilots in exchange for shutting down one of our logistical centers. The bastards are committed. And so are we. There was no way we could have concentrated on the missiles with those buggers charging at us. And a few missiles got through to Thoise. Tough shit. Get used to it!”
The pilot looked at his wristwatch and patted Verma on the shoulder before moving to the cockpit. Verma watched the pilot walk away and sighed.
No. We have to do better!
NORTH OF PARU
BHUTAN
DAY 7 + 2300 HRS
Fernandez stepped out of his command trailer on to the fresh snow outside. He had the chewed-out remnants of his last cigar from hours ago still in the corner of his mouth. He looked around and saw his Pinaka launchers deployed in the valley hundreds of meters away from each other and hastily painted white for camouflage by his men. It didn’t look pretty, but pretty wasn’t his business.
Then there were a dozen other vehicles also scattered into the valley. A line of trucks bringing in more ready-to-fire rounds were continuously making their way on the mud roads from the airport. Heavily loaded vehicles made their way in, off-loaded and then drove back to the airport to pick up more rounds.
As Fernandez watched, men from his unit were currently using logs and ropes to pull out one such truck that had sunk into a patch of mud-snow slurry on the road. He chewed out his cigar in disgust.
The problem for him at the moment was not Chinese attacks from the ground or the air. His main problem was resupply. This should not have surprised anyone, but what surprised him was that it did surprise many people up the chain of command. Many of those simply could not grasp the rate at which his unit was using up rockets.
And the attack on Paru had only messed things up more. He realized that there was no need for the Chinese artillery to go h
ead-to-head with his deadly Pinaka systems in order to disable his offensive capability. All they had to do was choke off his supply of ready-to-fire rockets and his launchers would simply become mute observers to the war.
The air-force was doing the same to the Chinese in Tibet, attacking Chinese highways and roads. The problem there was that for every road they struck, there were many others that existed on that flat terrain up on the Tibetan plateau. That was a major advantage for the PLA right now.
So Fernandez watched in frustration as his men struggled with the half sunk truck and managed to bring it out from under the muck with superhuman feats of strength. As his men cheered at the momentary victory, he felt this small problem would become a big one in the days to come…
“There he is. Let’s move, people!”
He turned to see three jeeps with heavily armed paratroopers jumping off, grabbing their backpacks and slinging it around their neck. Their CO, a Major, walked up to Fernandez and saluted.
“Who the hell are you?” Fernandez barked as he returned the salute.
“Major Sultania, 12TH Para-SF reporting as ordered, sir!” Sultania said.
“Reporting to me?”
“Yes sir!” Sultania said and then continued: “Warlord-central has directed 12TH Para to provide security for Paru including your battery and the airport. Friendly aerial drones have detected vague thermals north of here which they figure are PLA spec-ops teams attempting to locate this battery and terminate your command!”
Fernandez looked over the Major and moved his cigar butt into the other corner of his mouth.
“Like hell! The commies couldn’t terminate snow in summer!”
Then he sighed and looked north and saw some of his own troops holding rifles and patrolling the trees before turning back to the Major:
“But your men are greatly valued, Major. My boys have been providing our own security ever since we got here. Just not enough forces under General Potgam to give us security detachments back then. Looks like that is changing for the better. My men are artillery specialists, Major. Not infantry boots. I want you and your teams to reinforce these ridgelines,” he pointed with an extended arm to cover a northern arc around his battery, “and relieve my men for the job they were trained for. You understand?”
“Yes sir. Consider it done,” Sultania said and then waved at his men who began moving out to the north to scour the terrain before army trucks brought in his main force of Paras. Fernandez grabbed the Major by the arm just as the man was about to walk away:
“Just one other thing,” Fernandez said.
“Sir?”
“In case you do find one or more of those enemy spec-ops teams in the bushes out there, don’t mess around. Just waste them! Understand?”
“Yes sir!” Major Sultania smiled and ran off towards his men.
CHINESE STRATEGIC AIR CENTRE
KASHGAR
CHINA
DAY 7 + 2330 HRS
“These losses are unacceptable, Feng!” Chen slammed his fists on the table.
Feng was not moved by this show of anger. He had bigger worries than an irate commanding officer. He stared at the digital map overlay on the wall showing current locations of enemy airborne radars and possible fighter detachments.
The Indian airbase at Thoise had been destroyed. Satellite imagery that lay on the table in between the two men confirmed it. The black and white infrared images showed the pillars of smoke rising from the craters on the runway there.
In exchange, the PLAAF had sacrificed a dozen of their J-8IIs and a few J-11s, two of which had run out of fuel before reaching their tankers over northern Tibet. It had been a costly exchange by all standards. And for Chen, the trade in lives for targets destroyed had not been acceptable. Feng on the other hand had no qualms on that issue.
Not after so many days into this war…
“General, you asked me to find a way to break through the Indian aerial defenses and destroy key airbases south of the battle lines. I did exactly that. I am as grieved as you are on the loss of our pilots and airframes during these attacks. But I have no other options. If we don’t prevent the Indians from pouncing on our missiles as they cross southern Tibet, they will never get through. I had no choice! We should simply be glad that it was the older J-8s that got mauled and not the more effective J-11s.”
Chen sighed and leaned back in his chair:
“It is a painful strategy, Feng. And you know it!”
“But it works!” Chen exclaimed. “That alone is all that should matter to us at this point! It worked when I applied it for the operations under Zhigao against the Indian airbase at Leh at the start of the war. It worked again in Bhutan against the airport at Paru. And now it has worked again against Thoise! In all cases we traded for this success with the lives of our pilots. But nothing else works and we are out of time!”
Chen pushed back his chair and got up, picking up the satellite imagery from the table. He glanced at them again before facing Feng:
“So what’s the analysis on this airbase we managed to hit?”
Feng smiled.
“Destroyed! For all practical purposes. Analysis suggests destruction of base facilities and the runway. They may be able to operate a few helicopters from now on, but by the time they get the airbase functional again to operate transport aircraft, this war would be over!”
One way or another…Feng didn’t add.
Now was not the time for doubt, but Chen was no fool.
“Indeed. The war will get over soon enough, if the rumblings from Beijing are to be believed. But if they are indeed true,” Chen tossed the glossy images back on the table, “then the fourteen fighters we lost today to take out this base would be waste of resources, all things considered.”
Feng felt a shiver rise up his spine as he grasped what Chen meant.
“Meaning what, exactly?” he asked to verify what he had concluded.
Chen let out a derisive laugh.
“Oh come now, Feng!” he said after several seconds. “You and I can both see the writing on the wall even if Jinping and Wencang have not! We are close to losing the air war, if we haven’t done so already. We are throwing second line J-8IIs into the fight to replace combat losses in J-10s and J-11s. And they are getting massacred, as is to be expected. These stand-off missile strikes are the only effective weapons at the moment that are delivering results. But how long will it be before the Indians mop up the final S-300 batteries in southern Tibet? Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight? Then they will come after our stand-off bombers, tankers and special mission aircraft over northern Tibet. There is no stopping that. We can delay it using innovative tactics as you are doing. But they will adapt, as we would in their situation. And once that happens we would have lost the strategic initiative.”
“You mean we would have lost?” Feng asked hesitantly.
He understood the realities only too well. But one could never be sure when talking about such things. Chen walked over to the digital map of Tibet showing PLA dispositions that he was charged to protect.
“Is it really that hard to believe, Feng?” Chen asked with a raised eyebrow. “What do you think will happen to our ground offensive once you and I are no longer able to push enough forces into the air to protect our land-forces? Do you know the bloodbath that is taking place in Ladakh right now? Of course you do. We all do. Despite what NCNA puts out every hour. Give it another day or two and both sides will be running out of men and ammunition to throw at each other over there. The only land offensive going well is the one through Bhutan. But it’s too insignificant in the grander scheme of things. What is Bhutan but a minor rump state in the mountains? We promised the CMC and the Chairman that we could bring India to its knees within days. Those days have now passed!”
Chen walked back to the table and picked up his peak-cap and also his personal sidearm which he put into his uniform holster. Feng got ready to escort the General out. As Chen put his cap on and opened the door of the conferen
ce room, the light glistened off the medals on the chest.
“But have no fear, Feng. Regardless of how tenacious the Indians are in their pursuit to defeat us in this war, they will never defeat us. We will not let that happen. Ever!”
day 8
THIMPU
BHUTAN
DAY 8 + 0100 HRS
“Wake up you lazy bozos! Time to get up!”
Pathanya jokingly kicked Ravi and then Vikram as they lay on the floor of the room in their sleeping bags. Ravi jerked awake immediately and went for the rifle by his side before realizing where he was. Vikram simply mumbled something and turned over to his side fully aware of the friendly tone in Pathanya’s voice. He hoped the Captain would simply go away. But it was not to be. Pathanya kicked him again, slightly harder this time.
“Get up! We got to go. Move!”
Ravi, Sarvanan, Tarun and the others were already up and sitting inside their sleeping bags by this time. The room was still dark, the town having lost electricity following the Chinese attacks on Bhutan. They could all see their cold breaths in front of their faces as they spoke.
Vik fumbled about and forced himself to get up. Pathanya could easily sympathize with his men. Spear team had been on the frontlines of the ground war in Bhutan for four days now.
Colonel Misra had relieved Pathanya of the task of defending Thimpu and the arrival of the 11TH Para-SF Battalion into the city had effectively secured it from the PLA. This had allowed Pathanya to finally give his men sleep, real food, time to rearm and also to refocus. And they had taken the better half of a day doing just that.
But vacation time was now over…
The war was not waiting around for them. Thimpu and eastern Bhutan had been secured over the past day and the PLA Highland Division had been forced to pull back into northern Bhutan where they were now squarely on the defensive, holding on to large chunks of land already captured during their initial assault. Now Potgam was planning his own counteroffensive as more and more army units began entering Bhutan to beef up his forces. And while Dhillon was already coordinating with IV Corps to free eastern Bhutan from two brigades of the PLA Highland Division, Potgam had the single responsibility for recapturing Bhutanese territory north of Thimpu from the third brigade of the Chinese Division.