In memory of an ace
Taj M Khattak
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
“What are you looking for, young man?”, someone asked over my shoulder in a soft voice as I stood in front of a bookshelf in the library at the old PAF Staff College at Shahrah-e-Faisal in Karachi in 1980 where I was attending a course of studies. As I turned around, I was pleasantly surprised to come face to face with Air Commodore (r) M M Alam – who recently passed away in Karachi after a prolonged illness. Alam was then ‘persona non grata’ in the PAF bases (another story for another time) but used to visit the college library only to return books that he was so very fond of reading.
Seeing a book on the Muslim Brotherhood movement in Egypt in my hand, he said, “You should be writing on aerial tactics against armour”. The idea of asking a seaman to write on the subject was as unique as the man it was coming from, but I instantly agreed on the condition that he ‘shepherd me to the field’ – an aviation term used to lead a dysfunctional aircraft in the air to the safety of the runway. To this he very graciously agreed.
He had a faint smile on seeing the helicopter flying badge on my uniform – a smile invariably reserved for aircrew flying lesser machines but drawing the same flight pay as fighter pilots; the rationale for treating them equal being that when they fall from the sky, they all fall with same thud. In my defence, I muttered rather provocatively, “But sir, flying a helicopter at speed zero in a 40 feet hover over the sea on a pitch dark night is as challenging as flying a jet at 480 knots”. This stopped him from walking away and we sat down for a little chat.
That was the first and the last time I met this legendary aviator who was the subject of intense global interest for becoming an ‘ace in a day’ – an honour reserved for pilots with five or more kills to their credit in war used since 1917 when the French press first started referring to Adolphe Pegoud as l’as (French for ace). Alam achieved this distinction in a single day, and not against some technologically inferior aircraft but against those with matching performance. Despite efforts from some quarters to challenge his claim, most respected war historians from neutral countries have credited Alam with that tally.
Mike Spick, for example, in his book ‘The Complete Fighter Ace’ writes: “1965 war produced only one ace, which was hardly surprising considering the numbers involved and the consequent lack of opportunity. This was Saber pilot Mohammad Alam, who had flown Hunters with the RAF and thus knew his opponents well. He flew roughly 40 sorties during the 22 day war. His first combat came on 6 September, when he claimed two Hunters downed near Adampur. On the following day, while defending his base at Sargodha, he and his wingman encountered six Hunters. Diving to the attack, he launched a Sidewinder, which failed to guide. His second hit, and the Hunter pilot ejected. He had lost sight of the other five, but continued the chase in their general direction.
“The five Hunters were soon picked up in an absolutely immaculate battle formation flying at about 10~200ft, at around 480 knots. When Alam got within gunfire range they saw him and all broke in one direction, climbing and turning steeply to the left, which put them in loose line astern . . . This was a bad tactical error as it allowed Alam to turn inside the Hunters, firing at them one after the other like ducks in a shooting gallery and hitting four of them in less than 25 seconds.”
In another well-researched book, ‘Battle for Pakistan: The Air War of 1965’, John Fricker writes: “Admittedly, confirmation of Alam’s claims has been difficult to obtain, despite close-range observations of this encounter by several PAF pilots, and some gun camera evidence. Nearest of these observers was his wingman, Flying Officer Masood Akhtar, who, protecting his leader’s tail, clung like a leech throughout the action. Another section of PAF Sabers, led by Flt Lt Bhatti, was attempting to engage the Hunters but Alam got there first. Flying top cover in an F-1 04 was Squadron Leader Arif Iqbal who, with intense frustration, watched the brief combat with admiration.
“On this basis, Alam was originally credited with five IAF Hunters destroyed, although the wreckage of only two could be found in Pakistani territory, within 2 or 3 miles of Sangla Hill railway station. The area of the main engagement however, some 30 miles east of Sargodha airfield, was only about 55 nm inside the Pakistan border – some seven or eight minutes at jet speed. Thus only the IAF is in a position to verify, some day, its actual losses on the second day of its war with Pakistan...” The IAF never permitted John Fricker to verify Alam’s claim.
Alam owed a great deal to PAF Base Sargodha and the airmen who supported his effort for making aviation history. An old technician on his flight line once recalled how he always chatted with them during pre-flight inspections, at the end of which he would always kiss first one wing of the aircraft and then the other before getting into the cockpit. Post-retirement, he wanted to return to Sargodha to address the airmen who were so dear to him but that was not to be as Pakistan’s skies were overcast with General Ziaul Haq’s brand of Islam where there was no place for the likes of Alam.
Whether it was old-style duelling over the trenches of World War I in improvised machines or aerial engagements in the high speed intensity of modern warfare, only a few men have excelled at the art and become fighter aces. At a personal level, Alam became a member of that elite club of distinguished military aviators and today no book on the evolution of fighter tactics during the last century is complete without a mention of his wartime exploits. But it is the legacy of his courage that he leaves behind for the force he once served that far outweighs his personal glory and merits a more appropriate acknowledgement in death, especially when we
were not so kind to him during his lifetime.
If that formation of Hunters had broken off differently on that day instead of all turning in the same direction, would it have sandwiched Alam and his wingman and forced them to disengage from battle? Perhaps yes, but then history is not made on afterthoughts – it is made by seizing the moment – as did Alam when he courageously dived after a numerically superior force.
I never got to write on the aerial tactics against armour since the subject was rightly awarded to someone who had engaged a moving tank from his aircraft during war, which sadly scuttled possibilities for any further interaction between Alam and me. Somewhere during our brief conversation, he had said, “It is not so much the ‘energy’ of the aircraft as it is the speed of the pilot’s mind that matters in combat”. Never were these words truer than on that sunny day in the skies above Sargodha. He will long be remembered by an indebted nation for his services to the country. His job done, may the earth rest lightly upon him.
The writer is a retired vice-admiral. Email: taj
khattak@ymail.com