AFVOA Newsletter 03 of 2020

Section 4 – War Diary CV 2 No. 03 / 2020 Page 36 of 167 Encounter #3: 16 Dec 1971, Major A. Krishnaswami, Dacca Race Course Ceasefire having been officially announced on 16 Dec 1971, my battalion was moved to Dacca in the transport provided by the PAK Eastern Command. We in our Olive Green battle order were travelling in Khaki coloured vehicular convoy being driven by PAK drivers to Dacca, a mere 10 Kilometres from our ambush site on road Joydebpur- Dacca. It was a rare sight for the cheering locals who had lined up to cheer and welcome the Indian Army with cries of Joy Bangla. East Bengalis got their freedom at last. We were accommodated in the vacant Air Force lines as all the personnel had been moved to a centralized cordoned area and kept under protection lest they are attacked by the revenge seeking Mukti Bahini who were posing a threat even after the surrender. The surrender ceremony of the entire Dacca garrison was organized at the Dacca Race Course. The Olive Green clad Indian army personnel were very safe and welcomed, but the Khaki dress of the Pakistan Army was anathema for the locals. One could find many Indian troops without arms but all PAK troops carried their personal weapons. It was a strange sight indeed. A BBC war correspondent met me and humorously asked me stretching his microphone “Are you from the Victorious Indian Army” “Why are you not armed and the vanquished PAKIS are armed” I too jokingly remarked “We are safe and welcomed and we don’t need to and perhaps the PAKIS ‘need to’!” It was perhaps the worst hour for the professional Pakistani Army troops who had faced such a humiliating defeat in the hands of the Indian Army that had dismembered their country in a short duration of 13 days and created a nation called Bangladesh. Their morale was low and it was palpable as I overheard the same BBC correspondent thrusting his mike to a Pakistani officer and caustically remarked “Why did you surrender with so many troops here in Dacca. You could have held on?” The officer replied in a low voice.” People are against us, our own Army in the West could not come to our help. What are we fighting for? Whom are we fighting for? And why are we Fighting?” This was the level of frustration among the officer community. I was surprised when a Khaki clad officer with badges of rank of a Colonel called out to me as “Thambi’” in Tamil. I least expected it at this juncture and venue. Perhaps he had read my name plate on my