So what is next? Will they stop challenging us in the skies?
Unlikely. Verma reminded himself. This was a war to the end. There was no after-the-war for the Pakistanis after this. If the PAF ran to protect its aircraft and Islamabad lost the war, the first to hang from lamp-posts in the streets of Rawalpindi would be their air-force commanders. No, they wouldn’t give up that easily. They will send smaller groups of aircraft against friendly ground forces as the latter move across the border into Pakistan. That will be their game. No more big battles. But a lot of little ones. They will change tactics. They will adapt.
Verma rubbed his eyes. And so will we!
22
Pathanya ran out of the tents as thunder ripped through the frigid air. The cold winds hit him square in the face. He could see his breath condensing before his eyes. The scene outside was utter chaos. Men ran past and vehicles were rolling on all the major logistics routes.
Another thunderclap passed by. This time he knew where to look. North by north-east. Sure enough, a cylindrical booster section of a Brahmos missile arced across the sky as it went transonic. The small flicker of light from its exhaust disappeared to the early-morning fog…
“What the hell was that?” Vikram shouted over the thunder as he and Kamidalla caught up with Pathanya. Vikram stopped mid-syllable as another thunderclap reverberated through the air. Seconds later it too disappeared into the fog on its way to some target inside Pakistan.
Pathanya turned to face his two subordinate team-leaders with a frown laced with a sort of militaristic fait-accompli: “it’s begun.”
Pathanya let that sink and then went into overdrive: “get ready to move out while I figure out our mission status. I want everyone ready to leave with the logistics of our original mission. If that mission still stands, we will execute it. If it has been scrapped, I still want us ready to provide options to the Battalion commander!”
He got two nods and no questions. So he walked past the two men and headed towards the command tent to find Ansari, Gephel and the RAW officers embedded with this task force. If they were going after Haider, now was as good a time as any to get started…
“Fluids, people. Fuel and Water.” Kulkarni walked over to the large plywood board covered in maps. On it, the friendly forces were marked with pins and units IDs were written on paper tags nearby. He pointed to the dust-off point and then turned to face the hundreds of assembled tank and vehicle commanders standing in the large tent.
“We are going to be pushed hard for resources and reinforcements out there,” he pointed to Pakistani territory on the map. “Our biggest worry is not ammunition for the main guns, but the smaller details. Fuel for the tanks and water to drink. Command advises us that despite their best attempts to keep us hydrated and fueled, we must be prepared for the worst.” Kulkarni looked around at the faces of the men under his command. “And I agree.”
Kulkarni was indeed worried about the logistics of the upcoming offensive. It was always the same. It had been the same when he had been fighting Chinese T-99s in Ladakh. Without fuel, the tanks were simply sixty-ton steel pillboxes, immobile and vulnerable. Without water, the crews who manned them would be in no condition to fight in the desert long before they ran out of ammunition.
In Ladakh, however, Kulkarni and his fellow commanders had had one advantage: they hadn’t been going anywhere far. The PLA had been on the offensive there since the very first day. All Kulkarni’s tank detachments were doing was holding back the tide. They could rely upon whatever logistics made it up to them.
Not so out here.
The Thar desert would sap the strengths of his forces. Native water resources would be scarce until they reached their final objective areas in urban terrain. Same went for fuel. Each Arjun tank had enough fuel to take them on a one way trip down the road for two-hundred kilometers. But that was on a road. And there were no roads here. Besides, even if one existed, Kulkarni wasn’t stupid enough to have his tanks roll on them straight into ambushes. No, they would have to stick to the desert. They could not move in straight lines either. Maintaining tactical formations and strategic flanking maneuvers would dramatically eat up the onboard fuel. So would the rough desert terrain and the incessant waiting on combat readiness. Two hundred kilometers of fuel would translate to only a few dozen kilometers of combat maneuvering once the first bullets went over their heads. They would need fuel. And lots of it.
And that represented the Achilles heel of the whole plan.
For every tank that would move forward, there would be a dozen supporting vehicles that would be needed to keep them fueled, armed and running. Brigadier Sudarshan’s two Arjun regiments had over a hundred tanks on roster. They would require several-hundred supporting trucks and other mechanized vehicles to keep them in the field. But only half of these were available. The Indian army was not equipped for high-intensity operations, especially those involving deep armor strikes inside enemy territory. The buck kept moving down the chain of command to field commanders like Kulkarni, who had to deal with the consequences…
“We will load up the external fuel barrels on each and every tank,” Kulkarni continued. “One pair each. They will extend our range. Use that fuel first, but for god’s sake, remember to punch them off at the first sign of combat! The enemy can’t destroy our frontal armor, so they will aim for those exposed fuel barrels! Understood?”
He got nods from all his officers as they made notes from the briefing. There was a lot to take in. Locations, times, call-signs, radio-frequencies, attached forces, aerial units, artillery, objectives, enemy units, threats and rules of engagement in civilian areas…
“And water. Stack up as many bottles and cans of drinking water you can scrounge from the supply units. Pile them up wherever you can. Under your seat, on the sides or outside. I want each of your crews to be able to survive in a closed-hatch mode for over forty-eight hours on stretch without passing out for lack of water. Keep your men hydrated at all times. We may encounter significant resistance from the Pakistanis once they start realizing the threat we pose. They will aim for our logistics. Expect to go without being supplied with food or water for extended stretches. I plan to have every available space in my tank lined with bottles of water. I suggest you all do the same.
“Moving on to nuclear conditions. The supply units outside have trucks pulling up with N-B-C filtration masks and suits for you and your crews. Disperse them and make sure the sizes work for each of your crew. Don’t expect to get adjustments once we move out. No need to wear the suits when we leave, since our tanks will keep us safe inside. But keep them handy in case we have to step out for repair, rearming or refueling work.” Kulkarni noted the looks amongst his young officers. “Questions, gentlemen?”
One of the captains in the back row of seats raised a hand: “Sir, are we expecting the war to go nuclear?”
Kulkarni nodded. It was a legitimate concern. Why else had the Brigadier asked him to disperse the individual contamination suits in the field? “The Pakistanis armed their terrorists with a nuclear warhead with the sole aim of leveling Mumbai. Thousands are dead as a result of that failed attempt. Now, nearly a month later, we are preparing to roll over Pakistani soil in thousands of armored vehicles and troops. Of course there is a nuclear threat. Corps H-Q has issued a warning. Expect that threat indicator to climb higher as we pummel over the Pakis. They have nothing to lose.”