Lighting up the target

Sqn Ldr PPS Gill

On December 3, 1971, the Pakistan air force launched air strikes on our bases. We retaliated and turned the attack to our advantage. The Canberra was a somewhat outdated bomber by then, but navigation and bombing technique only a minor advancement over the World War II.  It worked well as there was sufficient moonlight to seek and bomb the target accurately (without any GPS and no smart bombs). 

With the onset of dark phase of the moon, we had to employ a different technique. The lead bomber was to act as a path finder carrying a dozen-odd night flares and a target-indicating bomb and when the pilot\navigator crew estimated their position to be over the target the night flares were released. These would float down slowly on small parachutes to light up the area around the target. The path-finder aircraft would do a circuit and spot the target with a target-indicating bomb. A stream of following bombers would then aim their 8X1000 lbs bombs each on to the TI bomb.

On December 15, we were to employ this technique on the Karachi Harbour used by the Pakistani navy. The path finder was our Squadron Cdr, a skilled and valiant pilot. I was to be the lead bomber approaching the target, I saw the flares opening up with a million candle power to turn the night sky into daylight. The anti-aircraft guns with their multi-coloured tracer superimposed on this to turn it into a brilliant display. A sight to remember thereafter! On every Diwali, the night brings back that sight vividly. 

Unfortunately, the TI bomb turned out to be a dud, as announced on R\T by the path finder. My mind went numb with the thought that the whole Squadron’s efforts would come to a nought. However, as I came over the target, I saw that one of the flares had landed on some combustible material on the harbour and lit up a small fire. I wanted to transmit this information to the friends so that they could align and release their bombs on the first pass itself. The enemy signals unit had cracked our radio frequency and jammed that channel by playing a ghazal by melody queen Noor Jahan. As soon as the three-minute song was over, I passed the information to the other crews. I must confess that I could not resist the temptation to let fly a few choicest expletives in Punjabi.   Hanging around over the target is not too good for the health of a bomber crew. It is like “Aa bael mujhe maar”. The bael did turn up in the form of a night fighter from a nearby airbase. I got the warning on the intercom issued by a gadget fitted in the tail of our aircraft for this purpose that an enemy fighter was closing in. We carried only bombs, but no guns or missiles for our defence. I took a turn to the left and another to the right followed by a dive down to the Arabian Sea. That was enough to shake off the predator. Skimming the waves, it was then full speed to base “horn ward brother and don’t spare the horses”.

I am still around to spin these tales of the war. Some of my warrior friends were not so lucky to make it back safely every time. Let us spare a thought for those who made the ultimate sacrifice.