In the first six hours of the assault, the Pakistani vanguard troops shot down three helicopters and damaged five others with machine-gun fire. They mainly operated in the fast-moving, Chinese-made armoured personnel carriers, which were far more mobile than the Indian armoured formations. They destroyed ten tanks and immobilized another eight others.
Then, in the early afternoon, Cotton sector came under a short but damaging artillery attack. Two damaged T-90s blocked the cleared minefield path and stopped the advance in its tracks. The tank commanders behind had no choice but to sit it out for thirty-five minutes while enemy spotters in hidden bunkers directed fire onto their positions. They heard radio reports of tank crews calling in hits or getting blown to pieces around them. Finally, Indian aircraft silenced the guns, then blew a new path through the minefield on either side of the Madargh road.
The worst confrontation took place with Wool sector around the ruined ancient settlement of Bhagla, where satellite pictures had shown only a token Pakistani presence. Thirty minutes before approaching the area, helicopters buzzed it and failed to draw enemy fire. The crew reported signs of fresh wheeltracks, sandbag positions having been removed, and some civilian movement inside the old settlement walls.
‘Bhagla unlikely to present a challenge,’ reported the helicopter pilot.
The Wool commander, Colonel Neelan Chidambaram, gave the order to bypass Bhagla and leave behind a token occupying presence until the second wave arrived. But as they came within 275 metres of the main settlement, a fusillade of enemy fire with anti-tank weapons, recoilless rifles and heavy machine guns opened up on them.
‘Sustained and heavy anti-tank fire,’ reported the commander. ‘Request permission to take Bhagla before proceeding.’
General Headquarters, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
Local time: 1400 Sunday 6 May 2007
GMT: 0900 Sunday 6 May 2007
In the underground war room, Hamid Khan leant over the button of the intercom on his desk. ‘Hold Baghla at all costs,’ he said.
He had decided to make a stand at Bhagla, sensing that General Gurjit Singh would go for Walhar to sever the rail link. It was twenty-five kilometres from the main depot at Rahimyar Khan. Even if India got as far as Baghla, it could reinforce the road and bring in its heavy towed artillery and shell the city.
‘Then we need air support, General,’ came the voice through the intercom.
‘Baghla must not fall,’ Khan repeated.
Baghla, Thar Desert, Pakistan
Local time: 1400 Sunday 6 May 2007
GMT: 0900 Sunday 6 May 2007
‘Can you not bypass Baghla?’ said Gurjit Singh, questioning Colonel Chidambaram’s decision.
‘Negative, sir. The level of fire indicates a substantial enemy force. Our final position is only ten kilometres north of here. Baghla must pose no threat to our position.’
‘How long to secure it?’
‘Three hours.’
‘You have two.’
Chidambaram ordered his vehicles to move towards the southerly and easterly sides of the settlement, giving each line of tanks a clear firing line. Twenty tanks fired simultaneously on Baghla from the south in a massively destructive volley. Thirty seconds later twenty tanks from the east fired a similar volley. Straight after that, enemy positions were strafed with cannon fire. Then Chidambaram ordered his men to hold their fire.
But in the sudden quiet which came after the firing, twenty Pakistani warplanes screamed in at low level, unleashing cannon and missile fire on the tank positions, turning and tearing back again before the Indian air force could make a response. The impact of the attack was devastating. Before Chidambaram could get back on the radio to check on the casualties, the anti-tank guns opened up again from inside Baghla.
‘Call in your hits,’ ordered Chidambaram.
Some reports came in of damage. Other call signs were silent because the tank was destroyed and the crew dead.
‘Request air support on Baghla,’ said Chidambaram on the main link to Singh.
‘What the hell is going on there, Wool sector?’
‘Enemy position with air cover.’
‘Fifteen T-90 and Arjun tanks destroyed. Casualties not known. Substantive minefield and anti-tank opposition.’
The Indian air assault on Baghla was later described as the decisive attack which changed the objectives of the war. It was relentless, unforgiving, allowing no room for let-up or surrender. For thirty minutes Indian warplanes pummelled what was no more than a desert ruin. The enemy who had remained to hold Baghla were buried in scorching rubble. No one escaped and Chidambaram witnessed it, wondering with horror what he would find when his units could finally move in.
General Headquarters, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
Local time: 1445 Sunday 6 May 2007
GMT: 0945 Sunday 6 May 2007
‘Baghla has fallen, sir,’ said Masood, relaying the message from the Military Operations Directorate. ‘Indian forces are advancing towards Rahimyar Khan. Flanking forces also advancing north.’
‘And the situation in the northern sector?’
‘We are holding the LoC well. In Siachen we have advanced. But Lahore is threatened. Indian forces are within ten kilometres of the city and are shelling the cantonment area. We have lost General Iqbal Faisal, I’m afraid, sir. The town of Wagah is completely under Indian control. Sialkot is expected to fall within the next forty-eight hours and India will then have control of the Shakargah bulge. We are managing lightning airstrikes, such as the one we carried out around Baghla, but it is difficult to hide the aircraft. Our forward bases at Sukkur, Bahawalpur, Nawabshah, Mirpur Khas—’
Hamid Khan stood up and held up his hand for Masood to stop. ‘All right, Captain. Are Dr Malik Khalid and Air Marshal Kalapur outside?’
Without answering, Masood opened the office door and waved in the missile scientist and the new head of the Pakistani air force from the war room outside. Dr Khalid entered with a bundle of diagrams and maps and sat down opposite Khan’s desk. Yasin Kalapur carried nothing and stood by the map near the door.
‘Is Sargodha still secure?’ Khan asked Kalapur.
‘The runway and airbase buildings are damaged. But the underground facilities are intact.’
Khalid leant forward in his chair. There was only one reason for him to be summoned. He was not a military man and was unable to discipline his curiosity. ‘Are you thinking of the northern or southern sector, General?’
‘The southern,’ replied Khan. ‘We strike once and once only.’
‘Then I suggest a mix of the Mirages and the Shaheen, fired from Sargodha. The target range will be between 450 and 500 kilometres. Each missile will carry a 500 kilogram warhead yielding a 20 kiloton explosion.’
Khan shook his head. ‘The missiles will be kept in reserve. Both the Shaheen and the Ghauri must be primed and ready for the second strike. But wait until darkness so that, God willing, they will escape satellite detection.’ He turned to Kalapur: ‘Yasin, are the Mirage 111s and the FC-1s still intact in Samungli and Pasni?’
‘Yes, sir. The Indians have confined their strikes to the border areas so far.’
‘Good. The F-16s?’
‘We have six at Samungli and four at Pasni.’
‘The Mirage 111s and F-16s will carry out the toss-bombing attack using the 500 kilogram warheads . . .’
Khalid nodded enthusiastically. ‘That will yield a 20 kiloton explosion per weapon.’
‘The FC-1 will give air support, particularly if the enemy deploy the SU-30.’
Kalapur nodded with approval. The FC-1 (Super 7) was Pakistan’s latest multi-role fighter. Its development had been delayed to equip it with weaponry and avionics which could take on the threat from India’s SU-30. The technology was derived from the American F-16 and the Russian MiG-29, particularly the Klomov RD-33 turbofan design. The aircraft was jointly made by the Pakistan Aeronautical Complex (PAC) and China’s Chengdhu Aircraft Industrial Corporation, wi
th much of the engine input coming from Russia’s Mikoyan OKB Design Bureau. Kalapur had flown one himself and declared it among the finest aircraft he had ever piloted. China would be keen to see the fighter tested in a real combat situation.
‘At night?’
‘Yes. Once the missiles have been prepared.’
‘Captain Masood, have we had confirmation from Beijing that we have complete access to their satellite imagery for the next twenty-four hours?’
‘The Ambassador has confirmed it, sir.’
‘What sort of strike would you want?’ asked Khalid.
‘Their doctrine is to destroy Pakistan if we strike first with nuclear weapons. But I don’t think Dixit would have the nerve to do that in response to a battlefield strike. Their first targets would be our nuclear facilities. We can assume that Sargodha and Multan would be destroyed and we must ensure that all personnel are in secure bunkers. We will have no more than eleven minutes to respond, probably less by the time we detect the launch.’
Khan stood up and moved towards the map where Kalapur was standing. ‘For defence purposes we should strike Chandipur here at 21° 28' N, 87° 00' E, at Hyderabad, 17° 14' N, 78° 21' E and Jullundur, 31° 19' N, 75° 34' E. These are all missile bases. We know that the Agni is in Hyderabad. If you think we have enough warheads, Dr Khalid, I would like to take out the nuclear research facility at Trombay at 19° 02' N, 72° 56' E. But that is more symbolic than strategic’
‘We shall see,’ said Khalid pensively. ‘And a third strike?’
‘It won’t come to that,’ said Khan. ‘But we will have to retain a credible deterrent for at least one large population centre.’
‘Hamid,’ said the Air Marshal, ‘during the Baghla operation, we would need to carry out air attacks on nuclear-capable Indian airbases. It would mean simultaneous sorties against the Jaguar and SU-30 squadrons at Ambala, the Jaguars at Gorakpur, the Mirages at Gwalior and the remaining SU-30s at Lohegoan. Those are the bases from which we would expect an airborne nuclear strike to take place. If we keep those occupied it lessens the risk of a false response.’
‘You’re saying, then, that we only react after the detection of a missile launch?’
‘Exactly. Indian aircraft will be in action anyway. We want to eliminate the confusion between conventional and nuclear.’
‘When would you be ready?’
‘Any time.’
‘Dr Khalid?’
‘If we want to prepare under cover of darkness.’
‘Captain Masood, ensure that I have Hari Dixit on the hotline the second the first toss-bomb strike takes place.’
Baghla, Thar Desert, Pakistan
Local time: 0500 Monday 7 May 2007
GMT: 0000 Monday 7 May 2007
Colonel Chidambaram raised himself through the turret of his T-90 and inhaled the night desert air deeply. The empty sky threw out enough light for him to see the ruins of Baghla. He looked more closely through the infrared night-vision binoculars and saw no movement, no sign of human or animal life.
‘Ninety minutes from now, at first light, we move into Baghla. Then we will proceed towards Rahimyar Khan,’ he told Gurjit Singh on the radio.
‘How long will you take to secure Baghla?’ he asked.
‘It will be done immediately. There is nothing left. What news from the other brigades?’
‘They are moving into Walhar at first light and expect one hell of a fight. Silk sector have reached the Uanur River and will hold there. There was only token resistance at Madaghar. Cotton had to take Sandhi after armoured resistance. That is now secure and Cotton is ten kilometres from the rail track. Calfskin took Bahuwalatoba with light resistance, but six hundred prisoners. They are outside Bagh-o-Bahar. You drew rotten luck, Colonel.’
‘Thank you, sir. And in the north?’
‘I understand we are doing well and that Sialkot will fall within the day. Our luck hasn’t been so good in the Batalik sector of the LoC. But a comprehensive ceasefire should solve that.’
Colonel Chidambaram felt better for the briefing, knowing that he wasn’t alone in the Thar Desert and that other officers had had problems as well. Many of the tank crews were outside their vehicles, washing, shaving, praying, preparing for the battle to come. Chidambaram was about to jump down and walk around, talking to them, when he heard Singh back on the radio again, an edge in his voice: ‘Toss-bomb attack. Toss-bomb attack. All men inside vehicles. NBC suits where available.’
The Pakistani Mirage 111s and F-16s streaked towards the Indian armoured positions, flying at 3,000 feet. Each pilot was trained for nuclear weapons delivery and the toss-bomb loop which would ensure his safety from the explosion. Each had a target specified from the Chinese satellite imagery. Two thousand feet higher the FC-1s were patrolling to head off any attack by Indian fighters.
But not all the aircraft carried a nuclear bomb. Two were nuclear-armed, one Mirage 111 – which Indian intelligence was not certain had been made nuclear-capable – and one F-16. Each aircraft carried one one-kiloton neutron bomb, an explosive device no bigger than a grapefruit. Each bomb had a destructive range of 700 metres, throwing out an 8,000-rad dose of radiation, more than ten times the 600-rad dose needed to kill in a normal environment, but enough to force the high-energy neutrons through the armour protection of the Indian tanks. A few of the tanks might have had depleted uranium shields built into the armour, which could offset the radiation. But that was untested and too expensive to be used throughout the Indian army.
The whole Pakistani squadron of sixteen aircraft came in at high altitude. As they dived they came under withering Indian anti-aircraft fire, which was attacked by the defending FC-1s. An F-16 was hit on its descent and exploded in the air. A Mirage 111 went too low and crashed into the ground. The other fourteen aircraft released bombs as they dived, and continued heading down: because of the airspeed the bombs shot upwards against the force of gravity. Once clear, the pilots pulled the nose up and went into a steep climb, avoiding the impact of any immediate nuclear explosion.
The aircraft were at the height of their climb when the bombs went off. Six were conventional; six were 500 kilogram fuel-air explosive warheads; two were tactical nuclear weapons. They exploded within fifteen seconds of each other, sending out devastating bursts of radiation. Contrary to the common perception of the neutron bomb, the attack did not just kill soldiers and leave buildings and vehicles intact. Anything within the 700-metre range was damaged beyond repair. Those vehicles outside the range were left intact, as were several of the tank crews who had managed to get inside NBC suits and seal up their vehicles.
But after that, many died, from dehydration and heat, abandoned by both sides as contaminated and beyond saving. The alloy steel used in the armour became radioactive itself. When rescue teams finally went in, both General Gurjit Singh and Colonel Chidambaram were found dead in their vehicles.
The area of the southern-Indian armoured advance was declared unsafe for at least forty-eight hours – and by then the world was on a nuclear precipice.
Briefing
Nuclear weapons
At the turn of the millennium, five countries were acknowledged nuclear weapons states. Two had demonstrated a nuclear-weapon capability and it is thought that only one, Israel, with a capacity for about 200 warheads, remained undeclared. North Korea may have produced a small number of nuclear weapons. At the peak of production in the eighties, there were about 70,000 nuclear weapons in the world – with an explosive power equivalent to 500,000 bombs of the size dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. India was thought to hold more than eighty nuclear weapons to Pakistan’s twenty-five. China had 400; Russia 21,000; the United States 11,500; France 450; and the United Kingdom 260. Just one 15-kiloton fission bomb explosion over an urban area with a population density of about 25,000 per square kilometre would kill about 200,000 people.
Zhongnanhai, Beijing, China
Local time: 0815 Monday 7 May 2007
GMT: 0015 Monday 7 Ma
y 2007
General Leung Liyin rang Tao Jian from the military headquarters under the Western Hills on a direct line straight through to the President’s office in Zhongnanhai. ‘Pakistan has halted the Indian advance in the south with a tactical nuclear burst,’ said Leung. He paused. Tao was silent. Then Leung continued: ‘We are ready on the western front.’
‘What about the Indian northern positions?’
‘Fighting is continuing.’
‘All right, General,’ said Tao. ‘Begin Operation Dragon Fire.’
Briefing
Japan
The historical use – or misuse – of Japanese militarism has long been a soul-searching issue for the Japanese. In 1894, Japan defeated China in a brief war and took Taiwan. Korea was annexed in 1910 and Manchuria invaded in 1931. Japanese forces swept through China in 1936 and finally attacked US forces at Pearl Harbor in 1941 – ending in the nuclear-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. Japan then drew up a pacifist constitution which ‘for ever renounces war as a sovereign right’. During the Cold War, Japan flourished, living under a US security umbrella which protected it against threats from the Soviet Union. In the late nineties, however, the United States urged it to take a greater role in regional defence. Japan quietly redrew its military profile, believing that ultimately its biggest challenge would come from China, whose aim was to overtake Japan as the pre-eminent power in the region.
The Prime Minister’s Residence, Tokyo
Local time: 0930 Monday 7 May 2007
GMT: 0030 Monday 7 May 2007
In normal circumstances, Prime Minister Shigeto Wada would have left it up to his Foreign Minister to summon the Indian Ambassador. But these were not normal times. The nuclear balance of Asia was untested and dangerous. And Wada had to make swift and difficult decisions which would strike right at the soul of modern Japan.
Mandip Singh arrived, looking like a man who had not slept for two days, and when Wada offered him tea he waved his hand and asked for black coffee.
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