How I paid back the enemy in its own coin

Squadron Leader PPS Gill  

On the evening of December 3, 1971, I, along with my wife and two kids, drove to an open air theatre at the Air Force station for a movie. An IAF vehicle stopped in front of the gate to block my way. Before I could show my displeasure, the driver passed me a message to accompany him to the operations room. Just then my neighbour came out to inform me that All India Radio has announced an attack by the Pakistan air force on our forward bases in Punjab. I said a quick good bye to the family and went along with the driver. 

Other bomber crews were also trooping in. At the outbreak on any war, youngsters are usually eager to take up arms. It was same that evening too, as the excitement was palpable in the room. I was to be in the first wave of our retaliation against the Pakistan air base in Karachi. Detailed briefing sessions started and we planned our route to the target. It was known to be heavily defended with anti-aircraft guns, radar and night fighters. We planned to land at one of our airbases near the border to top up fuel tanks to enable us to return directly to our base after hitting the target.

After refuelling, I started the engines and saw a red warning light indicating that the generator was not charging. With parking brakes on and the engines running, I slipped out through the escape hatch and moved back to the electronic bay. I tried opening the stud/bolt, securing the panel cover with my thumbnail as a screw driver. This resulted in a split nail with blood oozing out. A coin might be able to do the job. Searching for something in my flying overalls’ pockets, I found a packet of Pakistani currency which was allotted to us along with a loaded revolver before departure. It was a thoughtful move to include some coins in that packet likely to be used for bus fare in an attempt to escape if being shot. 

I managed to open the panel with a coin and put hand inside to reach to the circuit breaker of the generator. It had indeed popped out. I tried pushing it inside with an increasing force, but in vain. Standing in the dark with two jet engines screaming at a high pitch, I realized that “I might have to abort the mission”. It was difficult to live with the feeling that I failed to complete the first task allotted to me. In sheer desperation, I clenched my fist and whacked the circuit breaker. Surprisingly, it did set in. Quickly closing the panel, I climbed into the cockpit. The red light had gone off; I released the brakes, lined up on the runway and took off. 

The red tracer of anti-aircraft guns could be seen from miles. The maps were put away to point the aircraft at the centre of that hell fire. The bombs were released accurately at the time over target assigned to me. I was happy to complete the mission after carrying out running repairs on the way. To my greater satisfaction, I paid the enemy back in their own “coin”.