AFVOA Newletters of Year 2004

Page 90 of 153 politicians make, so I’ll let it go. But there are plenty of other questions, and I heard some of them from this young Captain’s family. 61. Just why did they lose their son? Why do we send some of our finest young men into brutality on our borders? Why have we been doing it for over five decades now? When will it end? Is outrage reserved only for those who torture during a war? Should we also turn it towards the men -- Indian and Pakistani alike -- who keep peace so distant that soldiers die every day? Who urge us to define ourselves by how much hatred we direct across the border? 62. Many people tell me, angrily, that I must not ask all this. It “undermines” the country. It’s “unpatriotic” to raise these issues when our soldiers are fighting and dying for the “glory” of the motherland. 63. Heard these phrases? Then consider what happened to Abhijit Gadgil, who wasn’t even fighting. 64. In 2001, Gadgil was in his sixth year with the Air Force, and had been flying MiG- 21s for four of those. In a note his family put together about him, they say: It would not be wrong to state that he was actually in love with that aircraft. He would sing its praises and boast about his achievements in the operational theatre. 65. Gadgil earned his MiG-21 wings in Assam. But he wanted above all to be part of a squadron on the border, in the west. In 1998, he got his wish. He was posted to Suratgarh, Rajasthan. He seemed immensely happy there, flying a lot and participating “in every squadron activity … he enjoyed the sand, his squadron and the company of his comrades-in- arms.” 66. Until September 17, 2001. At about eight that night, Gadgil’s MiG sped down the runway and took off into a moonless sky. 33 seconds later, it tore nose-first into the ground. At 470 kmph, it dug a nine-foot hole in his beloved sand. Of course Gadgil died, leaving behind a shattered wife and family. He also became a part of one of the IAF’s more peculiar set of statistics. It reads like this: 1963 to 1970: 7 accidents; 1 per year. 1971 to 1980: 21 accidents; 2.1 per year. 1981 to 1990: 32 accidents; 3.2 per year. 1991 to 2000: 75 accidents; 7.5 per year. 2001 and 2002: 22 accidents; 11 per year. MiG-21 accidents over the last forty years, of course. 67. It mystifies me that anyone could look at these numbers and either dismiss them as not cause for alarm (which then-Defence Minister, the same George Fernandes who wrote to the Kalias, did in 2003 by taking a flight in a MiG-21), or ascribe these crashes to “pilot disorientation” (which phrase the IAF has used repeatedly). Because even if pilots are disoriented on this scale, that begs the question of what kind of training the IAF is giving them to begin with. Because that is itself cause for alarm, and hardly normal. 68. And, as he did to the Kalias, Fernandes wrote to the Gadgils: [These] crashes are not just a couple of years [old]. The history of MiG crashes goes back to the early eighties. It is a problem that the nation has to take on and solve.