'Two Pakistan battalions – 6 POK and 13 POK – launched a ferocious attack across Tawi at around 0300 hours on December the fifth. They came in with their American Patton tanks and Chinese T-59s, guns booming. Jets from the Pakistani Air Force screamed overhead, strafing the area, dropping thousand-pound bombs on our positions. I saw vehicles burning everywhere, shells exploding, and tanks moving towards us like giant steel insects in the tall elephant grass.
The artillery firing was so heavy that within fifty minutes it had gone through the entire depth of our positions. 13 POK ran into our 29 Jat unit and dispersed it. As they advanced, they captured Point 303 after killing the CO.
Defence of this feature was also entrusted to 35 Sikh, but unfortunately some of my compatriots did not respond to the call of duty. They just fled in the face of a sustained barrage by enemy artillery. Having secured Point 303, the Pakistanis ordered their reserves to move forward and consolidate the bridgehead. By first light, they had overrun Mandiala Bridge. It appeared that only a miracle could save us now. Can someone get me a glass of water?'
Balwant Singh is an accomplished storyteller. He emphasizes the right words, pauses at the right places and asks for a glass of water at the perfect time, just when the suspense is getting unbearable.
Someone hastily brings him a Styrofoam cup filled with water. We crane forward. Balwant resumes after taking a gulp of water.
'It was at this point that the Commander of 368 Brigade personally joined us from Akhnoor.
When he arrived he saw a scene of utter destruction and confusion. Soldiers were running hell for leather from the scene of battle. The ground had become a cratered wasteland, scarred with dead bodies, rubble and the burning wreckage of our tanks. There were fires raging everywhere.
The waters of the Tawi had turned scarlet with the blood of soldiers. It was total pandemonium.
Not like they show you on TV, where you press a button, you launch a rocket and then sip tea.
'The CO, who knew me, said, "Balwant Singh, what is happening? Where have all our men disappeared to?" And I answered him with a heavy heart, "I am sorry to report, Sir, that many have deserted the scene of battle and fled to safety. They could not withstand the overwhelming force deployed by the enemy." We had lost three tanks and many men.
'The CO said, "If we all start thinking like this, how will we win this war?" Then he sighed. "I think this situation is hopeless. We should retreat."
'I immediately protested. "Sirjee," I said, "the motto of our regiment is Nischey Kar Apni Jeet Karon – I Fight For Sure to Win. I will never give up without a fight."
' "That's the spirit, Balwant." The CO thumped me on the back and told me to rally the remaining men. My platoon commander had also deserted, so the CO put me in charge of the platoon. Our battalion was given the task of moving forward immediately to recapture the bridge. The Delta company of Gurkha Rifles was also ready for assault, together with the remaining tanks of 31 Cavalry.
'The morning erupted in cannon and machine-gun fire. Mandiala Crossing became an inferno, a cauldron of fire, concussion and explosion. With sniper bullets whizzing past our heads, machine guns spewing out continuous and deadly fire, enemy aircraft wailing overhead and bombs crashing all around us, we charged from our position with fixed bayonets, shouting the Sikh battle cry, "Bole So Nihal, Sat Sri Akal." We fell upon the advancing enemy and bayoneted many to death in bloody hand-to-hand fighting. This bold action completely demoralized the enemy.
The tide began to turn in our favour. We started pushing the enemy back.
'At that point, the enemy decided to bring their tanks across the Tawi river. So far, they had remained on the other side. The moment they crossed the bridge and came over to our side, we would have been completely exposed. It was essential that we stop them from crossing the bridge. Now our T-55 tanks belonging to 31 Cavalry and the 27th Armoured Regiment came into action. At first our tanks withstood the enemy onslaught well, but when the Pakistani Patton tanks began rolling across the bridge, two of our chaps abandoned their tanks and ran away.
'I don't know what came over me. I just ran towards one of the abandoned tanks, opened the hatch and slipped inside. I knew about tanks, but I had never driven one before. Still, it took me only a couple of minutes to figure out the controls and very soon I had put the T55 into motion.
As my tank started up, it came under heavy fire from the enemy concealed in bunkers. So I moved my tank towards the enemy trench. They thought I would give up in the face of their sustained firing, but I kept moving relentlessly towards the bunker, till they jumped out and fled.
