Pasting an excellent narrative by a colleague about the life and glamour in the PAF. In memory of our friends who are no longer with us.
Today, another Sherdil Leader, AVM Shahid Nisar left us. May he rest in peace.
This is the story of our young days in the PAF.
Flight Lieutenant Alamdar : Sherdil Leader.
'Sherdil' , is the call sign of PAF Academy's aerobatics team and Flt Lt Alamdar was its leader between 1977 - 1978.
He was a very handsome man and not just physically: He was a hopeless romantic and not just about the woman of his dreams.
He was, an year senior to me in PAF College Sargodha but ended up six months ahead of me in the 54th GD (P) course. He was the 'Head boy' at Sargodha and in the final term ‘The Wing Under Officer’: the senior most Flight Cadet in the pecking order.
He wanted to be at the top of everything and worked very hard at it. He was one of the most 'Service Minded’ officers that I have had the privilege of knowing and befriending in the PAF. Despite all the laurels, he was humble. His extroversion was a facade that masked a deeply shy person. He was always dressed to kill: Never smoked or touched alcohol but happily joined us sinners in the bar, just to be with friends.
His family comes from Para Chinar, Kurram Agency of the tribal belt. His father, Col Syed Shabbir Hussain (commissioned 1941), was one of the pioneers and the first commandant of 'Okara Military Farms'. Alamdar had spent most of his pre- teens in military cantonment of the 60s that still retained the flavour, discipline and secular traditions of the British Indian Army. He was a scion of a distinguished family which has excelled in the service of their tribe and Pakistan.
He was the fifth amongst eight siblings: one of his elder brothers, Qaisar Hussain, too was a fighter pilot and who eventually rose to be the Vice Chief of Air Staff in the rank of Air Marshal.
In 1978, I was posted as an Instructor Pilot at PAF Academy. As a bachelor, I lived in, what PAF officers will immediately recognize, as the 'U' block of the Officers' Mess, Risalpur. As Sqn Ldr Qaisar was also posted there , Alamdar took up residence with his brother in one of the 'Bhoot Banglas ' adjacent to the Officers' Mess.
Our friendship blossomed after a rather intimate and romantic conspiracy. Now hold your imagination and read on.......
In the 70s, the military garrisons used to organize ' Melas or Fun Fairs' , ostensibly to raise money for troop welfare : A 2 to 3 day affair. One of the nearby garrisons had organized a Mela and Alamdar had been there on the first day.
The next day , early morning he came to my room and asked me to accompany him to the Mela. I refused as I was planning to finish a novel that weekend. I would have jumped for a fishing trip but not a bloody Mela. But the way he was pleading, I sensed something was in the air but he was reluctant to tell me what it was. I simply had to get to the bottom of it all.
"Come on sir, let it out ; What's going on?", coaxing him to open up.
He sat down in a chair as if to announce the end of the world. He told me, that the day before, he had seen the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world and he would like to see her again and get to know her. Now that was vintage Alamdar : The best and the most in the world.
I laughed and told him that the probability of seeing this beauty was 'NIL, Zilch, Zerrrro'. Why would anyone waste two straight days in a stupid Mela with the roughish louts chasing her around the whole time? The dialogue between two Flt Lt friends went something like this:
"No..no , She is there, I am sure she is", Alamdar said convincingly.
Puzzled , I asked him , "How the hell do you know that?"
" Yaar, She is running one of the stalls".
"OK , So did you speak to her?"
"NO" , came back the shy reply.
"Why not , after all ,she is there to sell something and you could be the prospective customer", I pontificated. Now clearly, exasperated , he switched to Pashto.
"Akhtara , Poya sha kana, ( Try to understand). She is not selling something. She is a palmist".
"A palmist, C'mon, A PALMIST!!!!!!!!., you must be joking ! , She couldn't be....what should I say , not your class!", now I was scandalized.
"No...no, She is a volunteer ; she reads palms for a fee and donates the money for the welfare of the troops". he explained.
I understood someone educated with a talent and persuasive eloquence.
"So why didn't you show your hand to her and get her, to talk to you?", I tried to be extra smart.
"I did, but all the while that she was reading my palm, I was looking at her face and couldn't utter a single word. I was absolutely mesmerized. I didn’t know what to say to her. Yaar , didn't have the guts to start anything. And if I go again today, she will think of me as a bloody cheapster. I haven't slept a wink since then", etc etc.
"So I want you to go with me today and maybe figure out a way to get her attention for me", he ordered rather sheepishly ; after all ha was a course senior to me.
Words to that effect......
"Now you want me to be the messenger, the so called 'Razdan', is that it?", I asked rather naughtily.
"Ye , that's what I mean", an implied order.
"OK , what happens, if I also fall for this most beautiful girl in the world and become a 'Raqeeb?", I challenged him.
"I Will killlllllll you", he said lovingly.
"Chal na yaar, dost nahin hai tu", now he started pleading.
His innocent threats and pleading aside , now , I was also curious as to what kind of a mythical creature had tongue tied our handsome 'Sherdil Leader' ; our 'Sword of Honour' winner ; our 'Head Boy'. I decided to see this Serene, this 'Queen Sheeba' for myself.
A quick shower ; into my casuals and off to the Mela.
Alamdar led me to a simple stall outside of which was a line of about 12 to 15 people: mostly young officers from the garrison and a sprinkling of women. Alamdar pushed me into the line and got behind me. I had still not figured out , how to convey my friend's desire to her and the line ahead was getting shorter at a decent pace I had yet to set my eyes on the 'Femme Fatale'.
When I reached the opening of the tent, I saw her and held my breath.
OMG .....Jacqueline Bisset!
Couldn't be! .... Not possible!
Yes , a Jacqueline Bisset in her prime but a Pakistani version : the same grace, poise, elegance and stunning beauty.
Kill No 2 against Pakistan Air Force : 2nd pilot down.
May day..May day...May day.
Time was running out as I saw this young officer bobbing his head up and down as if she were Cherio herself. Soon it would be my turn. I had to get hold of myself and accomplish my mission but what to do or say : the same dilemma that my friend had faced.
'Ye aalam shauq ka , Bola na jai' ; ' Ye but hai ya khuda , Bola na jai'.
Mission...Mission.... Mission.
' STOP dreaming ...Wake Up and Focus' , an inner voice ordered me.
When in doubt, go for the direct and frontal assault. Unnerve her, challenge her, shock her, surprise her, ambush her ; ye ... ye , it's easier said then done.
But HOW?
As I sat down infront of her, she barely looked up when I put my palm in front of her. She started rattling out things like technical, practical, long life etc etc in a very well worded format.
Time to move...
"What about ' Love & Romance in my life?' " , I enquired innocently.
This time she looked up with a bit of trepidation. She bent down and feigned as if looking closely for my love line or whatever. I also bent forward , and in a whispering tone, told her that I didn't believe in the mumbo jumbo that she was telling me but there was a definite purpose why I was there.
"And what IS that?", she asked softly but firmly.
To establish some credibility and gain some time and confidence, I introduced myself and asked her permission to speak frankly , but before she could make up her mind and without waiting for a formal response , I introduced Alamdar in absentia.
I tried to describe things like physical attributes and personality as accurately as possible in the short time available. I told her everything that had transpired between me and Alamdar since that morning : everything as best as I could , including his love smitten state.
She remained impassive and impervious through it all as if she had heard that music before ; the poise. The only thing that I could discern was that she did recollect him : our Romeo had made an impression after all.
Now that was an opening. The only thing that I skipped and tried to hide, as much as is possible ,was my own impression of her.
"Where is he now?", she asked a little hesitantly.
" Your 'Knight in the Shining Armour' is waiting outside the stall and by now must have bitten all his nails", I blurted out.
Her mouth opened ever so slightly and after a moment's pause , we both started laughing simultaneously. Both of us had imagined ,in our own way, a tall warrior in his Armour nervously biting his nails and waiting to be dragged into the audience of the Princess.
We were instantly connected. All those masks that we ordinarily wear to protect ourselves dropped. We were not laughing at Alamdar but at the 'Tragi- Comical' absurdity and fragility of human beings. In that instance our souls were bare to each other : two adults becoming soul mates , friends and partners in crime.
That laughter evaporated all the formality, all the pretenses and the tension was gone but now the devil in me was kicking me, egging me to, 'Go On'.
"Take the leap...forget Alamdar ,You will never meet her again.,.... you will never get the chance again".
MISSION ....Mission...Mission. ... the masks called honour, dignity , friendship and brotherhood shouted back at the devil ," Be gone , You devil...Be gone".
Suddenly, I wanted to detach myself from her magnetic pull, get far away from her presence, from the emotional vortex that I had landed into ; all the bravado gone. Conflicting signals were confusing me, the inner voice was dimming, going weak and meek. .. mission........mee... mee....
I was about to lose control of the situation ; I was about to enter a spin. The aura and the allure that she exuded was making me heady, the tentacles probing gently.
A cage was forming around me and I needed to break out and soon.
I didn't want Jacqueline Bisset , 'The Aphrodite ' , morphing into a Medusa.
Mission..Mission....Mission.... started to get louder.
I rose abruptly from my chair unsettling her. I stood tall over her ; both hands in my pockets as if to show my nonchalance.
"Should I send him IN?" , I asked rather mischievously while cocking my head towards the opening of the tent.
"No, no ..no please wait", she panicked but paused to weigh her options.
"Please tell him to meet me at the end", while gesturing in a circular motion at the stall.
Yes!!,Yes!!Yes !! ...Bulls Eye!, Mission Accomplished!, DCO.
I extended my hand and she shook it confidently , as if we were old friends.
"Good Bye Mademoiselle", I said cheerfully (sic).
And I walked out of her tent ; No 'Au revoir '.
Outside, our ' Sherdil Leader ' was a total nervous wreck.
"What happened?" , "Did you tell her about me?" , "Why was she laughing?",etc etc , so many questions from an expectant Alamdar.
Time to have fun with him….
I said that I too ,like him, was knocked out and too dazed to remember him. And that time had passed so fast that I couldn't discuss his infatuation with her.
He could have shot me. Despondency writ large over his handsome visage as if he had lost everything in a casino : a jilted lover.
A little later ,over a cup of tea, I told him that the deed had been done and now it was up to him to make or break it and wished him luck. He hugged me and lifted me off the ground with an unbelievable force. I can still feel the warmth and joy of that moment.
He would sometimes volunteer snippets of his budding romance but I , for some unfathomable reason , avoided to venture into that vortex again. I was afraid - a kind of premonition. I don't know what?
One day , as I was taking a leisurely walk with him, a walk which is essentially aimless, a walk in which two friends just feel happy to be in each other's company, when suddenly, I asked him this idiotic question , "Alamdar, what is it that you want in life?".
His answer stunned me.
I quote 'When I walk on the street ,people should point to me and say " there goes the best fighter pilot in the world " '.
Ever the spoiler, "And" , I interjected.
He thought for a moment and said "the best dressed man in the world".
How simple and how tough is THAAT for an aim in life.
While we were living through this most romantic and productive time of our life, a cataclysmic 'Force Majeure' struck with vengeance. ( Nazar Lag gaiee).
Flight Lieutenant Alamdar : Sherdil Leader.( Part 2)
Close to the graduation parade of the flight cadets, ‘The Sherdils' used to practice their aerobatic routine over the airfield , once all the regular training flying was down.
In 1978 , 'The Sherdils' used to fly a four shipper in 'Box or Diamond Formation' .
Flt Lt Alamdar Hussain Leader
Flt Lt Shahid Nisar Right wingman
Flt Lt Irfan Masum Left Wingman
Flt Lt Tasneem Slot
*Flt Lt Ansari flew as standby
Every time they flew , I used to get a queasy feeling in my stomach. The wingmen were too close for comfort and to maintain the integrity of the box, the slot man had to fly barely a few feet behind the leader : literally sticking like glue. To fly so close , you had to have ice instead of blood in your veins : Icemen all of them, They were cool in their cockpits but we, the spectators on the ground , flinched every time they came down close to the ground.
I used to urge him , to ask his team to open up. And he always answered , that he had trained them well and had full confidence in his team's ability. His right hand , however ,had a different story to tell. Those of you who have played tennis would know that initially the pads of the fingers and the palm gets rough because of the force applied during a stroke: the same thing in a golf swing.
He would , sometimes, show his hand to me to prove , how hard he had to pull back particularly during the steep turns to counter the pressures created by the interaction of the aerodynamic forces of his tail plane and the canopy bubble of his slot man.
In such a ‘tight’ formation , there was no margin for error.
On that fateful day, I was playing tennis in the officers' Mess lawns, when I heard the whine of T-37 engines signaling the start of the usual practice runs on the runway. As the formation flew overhead we ,the tennis players , paused to look up. Even after thousands of hours of flying under the belt, one cannot resist this temptation.
.
Suddenly , the familiar sound of the engines disappeared and moments later , 'Flag Cars' were speeding towards the technical area gate to get to the runway. I dumped my racquet and ran towards the road. A terrible sense of foreboding and ‘Déjà vu’. As I reached the road , I saw only three aircraft on the initials of Runway 27 and my heart sank.
One of the ' Sherdils ' had gone down ; One of my friends had gone down.
Prayers on my lips, I ran to the telephone to check the fate of the fourth aircraft from the ATC to be told that ' Sherdil Leader ' had crashed on the runway during the steep turn sequence.
I instinctively knew that Alamdar , my bosom buddy , was no more.
There was no chance of an ejection from that low an altitude.
No margin for error-----. Alamdar ...No margin ......Alamdaaaaaar....No.
That's what he wanted to be, ' the best' and in trying to be the best : he paid the ultimate price.
How the whole formation escaped the melee is another tale to be told by them. It could have be all four. It has happened before: a whole formation going into the ground while following their leader.
Alamdar had graduated from PAF Academy Risalpur on the 8th of October, 1972. The 'Sword of Honour' presented to him by Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto. ZAB became so emotional on seeing this beautiful specimen of a human being that he broke protocol, came down from the dais, and hugged him.
He crashed on 8th of October, 1978 at the same PAF Academy Risalpur at the age of 26 years.
May his soul rest in peace.
Post Script:
The Sherdil Aerobatics team, PAF Academy ,Rislapur ( 1977-1978):
Flt Lt Syed Alamdar Hussain 54th GD(P) Leader
Flt Lt Irfan Masum 56th GD (P) Left Wingman
Flt Lt Shahid Nisar 56th GD (P) Right Wingman
Flt Lt Nazar Hussain 55th GD (P) Slot -1977
Flt Lts Tasneem 57th GD (P) Slot 1978
Flt Lt Ansari 56th GD(P) Standby
* Flt Lt Tasnim was in the slot , his canopy was damaged in the mid - air- collision and he barely escaped the same fate as Alamdar.
All of these young officers (Average age 25 - 26 years) were top professionals in their own right and all of them were friends. They are now senior citizens , some are now grandfathers, and maybe some are telling their grandchildren about how they lived their lives in the PAF. Tell them my friends , that Uncle Pervez Akhtar Khan bears testimony. Tell them how we lived and how some of us died.
Shaid Nisar rose to the rank of Air Marshal and has recently retired from service. He had the unique distinction of training a Jordanian Air Force Aerobatics team in a short span of 20 days . His wingmen were Sqn Ldr A Hameed Qadri from PAF, Captain Muhammad Al-Omari from Royal Jordanian Air Force and the slot, Captain Michael from the United States Air Force.
Sqn Ldr Qadri , who was Sqn Ldr Shahid Nisar’s wingman in Jordan was an ace F-16 pilot ,he met with a tragic end in the rank of Air Commodore. He was flying his last mission as Base Commander , PAF Base Mushshaf when his aircraft went down. He ejected but was too low for a safe ejection.
During the Afghan war , Sqn Ldr Qadri was asked to engaged 4 enemy aircraft that had violated the Pakistani Airspace, he shot two of them promptly. He could have chased and shot the other two without any problem but refrained from violating the Afghan Airspace.
These ' Rules of Engagement ' were NOT to be violated under any circumstances. Such is the discipline in the PAF. Icemen all of these guys. Now , how cool can you get!!
Irfan quit the service as a Wing Commander and now flies commercial jets in the Saudi Arabia.
Nazar too couldn't bear the stuffy desk job and quit to fly in the gulf as a commercial pilot.
Tasneem flies for Shaheen Airlines.
Ansari seems to have disappeared but I am sure he is alive and kicking some where.
Please Permit me to introduce Flt Lt Alamdar's other siblings in the service of the nation:
1. Syed Sajjad Hussain, Pak Army ( Rtd Col)
2. Syed Zulfiqar Hussain, Pak Army ( Rtd Col)
3. Syed Qaisar Hussain, PAF, ( Rtd Air Marshal, Vice Chief of Air Staff)
4. Syed Irshad Hussain, Pak Police ( Rtd Inspector General)
5. Syed Alamdar Hussain, PAF ( Shaheed, Died in Air crash)
6. Dr Syeda Zehra Hussain, ( Married to Brig Asad Kazim (Rtd Pak Army)
7. Dr Syed Mujahid Hussain, Medical Doctor in Public Service.
This last of the siblings is the epitome of service and sacrifices that this family has made.
8. Dr Syed Riaz Hussain....He had opened clinics from Chitral to Fata on self-help and volunteer basis.
Authors Notes:
Warriors are trained to take great risks and fighter pilots, 'The cutting edge' , are trained at a great cost to reduce that risk. They operate at the extremes and not just physically but also emotionally. The chances of burn out and attrition is very high if the quality of men in the cockpit is compromised. Even if the best technology is made available to them, one just cannot remain in the fighter cockpit unless there is an intense self - drive. It is not an ordinary job, it requires extra ordinary motivation. One cannot become and remain a fighter pilot by chance.
It goes to the credit of Pakistan Air Force that it keeps that flame burning : The desire to be the best, generation after generation.
PAF truly is a 'Symbol of Pride ' for the nation.
This short narrative of Alamdar symbolizes that spirit.
ALAMDAR : The 'Flag Bearer ' lives through the young pilots of PAF.
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