amigo
BANNED
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2010
- Messages
- 326
- Reaction score
- 0
By Brig. Harwant singh.
Dec 16,2010
While Dhaka fell on December 16, 1971, the surrender ceremony in our sector was to be held at Khulna the next day. I accompanied our Brigade Major to go along with the Pakistani officers who had come to finalise the details. On the way, we found a Pakistani Second Lieutenant who had some wounded soldiers in his jeep but could not proceed further as there was every likelihood of heavily armed civilians firing at them.
We decided that they had to be helped. Accordingly, I took the wheel of his open jeep and made my radio operator stand in it, hoping that on spotting our olive green uniforms, especially my turban, they would not open fire. Sure enough, it worked and the crowd cheered us. The wounded were brought to their Military Hospital. On being implored by the Pak officer, I took him to his battalion's rear party location, where 30-odd soldiers, surrounded by an armed civilian mob, presumably Mukti Bahini, were disarmed with theirweapons, money and valuables piled up on ground.
I sensed trouble. I was alone with my radio operator. I had to think, and act, fast. On approaching them, I loudly shouted, Joi (Jai) Bangla, the greeting of the Mukti Bahini. In response, shouts of Joi Bangla rent the air.
Someone produced a rickety chair for me and I was suddenly transformed into a victorious VIP.
I was informed by their leader that after searching them for more valuables, the Pakistanis would be taken to a nearby river and shot. I needed all my diplomatic skills to save them. I gave a long talk (to buy time and come up with new ideas) on the great Bangla culture, its glorious civilisation, the bravery of Bengalis, etc. With all that greatness, how could they do such a thing?
They narrated the stories of the Pakistan army's atrocities. Without any authority, I said that the guilty would be court-martialled or even tried for war crimes. Then I suggested that rather than shooting them, the Pakistanis should be made to surrender to the great Mukti Bahini on TV. This TV thing seemed to work and they agreed.
My concern was that if the Pak soldiers went without their weapons, they would be fired upon by other mobs. But Mukti Bahini would not let the looted weapons restored to them.This required more praise about their magnanimity and another round of praise for the great Bangla culture followed. Finally, I said that if the Pakistanis were taken to the surrender ceremony without their weapons, how would the world know that the great Mukti Bahini had actually disarmed them. Let Pakistanis' disarming be seen by the world on TV, I advocated.
I quickly let the Pak soldiers (through their officer) pick up their weapons and prepared them to march under Mukti Bahini to the surrender ceremony location.
On reaching the surrender ceremony location, which was guarded by Indian troops and tanks, I quickly mingled with the milling troops, an unsoldierly act, but I don't regret it even after a lapse of so many years.
If any of those Pakistanis happen to read this account, they may recall as to how close they felt to their final disposal by mobs.
I would like to get in touch with that Second Lieutenant, who would be leading a happy veteran's life or holding a high civil post.
Dec 16,2010
While Dhaka fell on December 16, 1971, the surrender ceremony in our sector was to be held at Khulna the next day. I accompanied our Brigade Major to go along with the Pakistani officers who had come to finalise the details. On the way, we found a Pakistani Second Lieutenant who had some wounded soldiers in his jeep but could not proceed further as there was every likelihood of heavily armed civilians firing at them.
We decided that they had to be helped. Accordingly, I took the wheel of his open jeep and made my radio operator stand in it, hoping that on spotting our olive green uniforms, especially my turban, they would not open fire. Sure enough, it worked and the crowd cheered us. The wounded were brought to their Military Hospital. On being implored by the Pak officer, I took him to his battalion's rear party location, where 30-odd soldiers, surrounded by an armed civilian mob, presumably Mukti Bahini, were disarmed with theirweapons, money and valuables piled up on ground.
I sensed trouble. I was alone with my radio operator. I had to think, and act, fast. On approaching them, I loudly shouted, Joi (Jai) Bangla, the greeting of the Mukti Bahini. In response, shouts of Joi Bangla rent the air.
Someone produced a rickety chair for me and I was suddenly transformed into a victorious VIP.
I was informed by their leader that after searching them for more valuables, the Pakistanis would be taken to a nearby river and shot. I needed all my diplomatic skills to save them. I gave a long talk (to buy time and come up with new ideas) on the great Bangla culture, its glorious civilisation, the bravery of Bengalis, etc. With all that greatness, how could they do such a thing?
They narrated the stories of the Pakistan army's atrocities. Without any authority, I said that the guilty would be court-martialled or even tried for war crimes. Then I suggested that rather than shooting them, the Pakistanis should be made to surrender to the great Mukti Bahini on TV. This TV thing seemed to work and they agreed.
My concern was that if the Pak soldiers went without their weapons, they would be fired upon by other mobs. But Mukti Bahini would not let the looted weapons restored to them.This required more praise about their magnanimity and another round of praise for the great Bangla culture followed. Finally, I said that if the Pakistanis were taken to the surrender ceremony without their weapons, how would the world know that the great Mukti Bahini had actually disarmed them. Let Pakistanis' disarming be seen by the world on TV, I advocated.
I quickly let the Pak soldiers (through their officer) pick up their weapons and prepared them to march under Mukti Bahini to the surrender ceremony location.
On reaching the surrender ceremony location, which was guarded by Indian troops and tanks, I quickly mingled with the milling troops, an unsoldierly act, but I don't regret it even after a lapse of so many years.
If any of those Pakistanis happen to read this account, they may recall as to how close they felt to their final disposal by mobs.
I would like to get in touch with that Second Lieutenant, who would be leading a happy veteran's life or holding a high civil post.
