The only option left was for Kulkarni to bypass the town along its perimeter, leaving a screening force along their flanks and dash to the highway west of the town. Kulkarni had decided to do that from the south. Rhino-one and — two taskforces had suffered heavy casualties in the past days. Enough to force him to roll them into a single entity under his command as rhino-alpha. Rhino-three and — four had also been coalesced into a single force and were now tagged as rhino-bravo. The farther they went into Pakistan, the thinner the rhino columns became…
How long before we are rendered ineffective for further advance? Kulkarni thought as he swiveled the screens: “driver, take the road in front of us to the junction and take the left axis on to Rahim Yar Khan road.”
“I see it.”
Kulkarni looked around and saw the grime, soot and sweat-covered faces of his crew, exhausted after two days of combat and scared. Tired of seeing their colleagues die after the other. Tired of this war…
But they had done well, Kulkarni knew. The Pakistani 1ST Armored Division had been severely mauled. It’s main combat element of modern tanks had been destroyed in the sands east of where Rhino was now. The enemy forces being thrust into battle against him now were, at best, second-line tanks. And the Pakistanis knew better than to throw them into battle head on. No, the Pakistani commanders were playing defensive now. They were digging in their forces inside Rahim Yar Khan and were determined to hold it.
“Rhino-actual to all elements,” Kulkarni said into his speaker, “we are moving on to waypoint red. Rhino-bravo: take the flank. Rhino-alpha is leading the charge. Expect heavy resistance. Kill any Pakistani foolish enough to try and get in your way! Civilians or otherwise. You all heard what the jihadists are doing against near Lahore. Expect the same here! Do not allow any Pakistani to come close. Kill anyone who does. Rhino will not be denied the objective! Out!” He changed comms: “driver, push on!”
As the tank rumbled to life and jerked forward, Kulkarni collected his thoughts. He was only too aware of the kind of war the Pakistanis were waging in Lahore. The jihadists were leading the assault against Indian forces. It didn’t take much for him to anticipate the same sort of battle for Rahim Yar khan. As his tanks rolled up and on to the tar of the Rahim Yar Khan road, the battle for Islamgarh road was officially over.
And the battle for Rahim Yar Khan was just beginning.
32
“Sir, wake up!” Akram shook Haider as he slept in his sleeping bag. Haider mumbled something and turned around, his eyes barely adjusting to the pitch darkness.
“What is it?” He said finally as rubbed his eyes and tried to read the watch on his wrist. Removing the headphones he had confiscated from the kid’s bedroom in this house to help him sleep, he could once again hear the muffled thunder and rumbling outside.
Akram kneeled beside Haider, realizing the man was still dazed from sleep deprivation: “sir, a convoy from Sargodha has just made it into the city. They have something that you need to see right now!”
Akram’s tone struck Haider. He had known Akram a long time and this tone was reserved for only grim situations. Haider instantly rotated himself off the bed. A series of flashes from some artillery strike to the east provided just the illumination he needed: “all right, major. Let’s go.”
The two men walked out of the bedroom of the apartment that now served as a rest area for Haider’s command-staff. They tiptoed around the various sleeping bags sprawled around. It never ceased to amaze Haider how his men could sleep with all that was happening around them in this besieged city. But sleep deprivation and exhaustion put even the most scared individuals to sleep.
One floor below, the radios were alive with chatter as men rushed back and forth. Signs of exhaustion and fear were written on their faces as the battles to the east invariably brought bad news. The question on everyone’s mind, Haider saw, was how long before it was all over?
Haider wasn’t as worried, however. The bottom-line was that there were more jihadists inside Lahore than the Indians could possibly kill. And while he agreed that the lack of formal military training in the cadres of the mujahedeen ensured that the losses in manpower were colossal, the general effect it had on the Indian forces was worse. The momentum of the Indian army had been drained. The regular Pakistani troops were doing what they could and providing flanking security, logistics and indirect fire-support, but the main resistance were the holy warriors willing to strap explosives around their waist and run into an Indian tank. The Indians were being forced to level each and every building in order to advance. And that was unsustainable.
Haider had to concede that eventually the city would collapse. Once the flanking Indian columns north and south of the city met up to the west, they would choke off all logistics to the city. And then the battle would be lost. He hoped that the war would be over by then. After all, how long could India resist the international pressure to declare a ceasefire?
Haider followed Akram out of the apartment and into the cold winds raging through the streets, carrying the smell of blood and spent ammunition. He spat out the taste in his mouth and then followed Akram towards a group of soldiers standing by their parked trucks, down the road. Haider saw some M113 armored-personnel-carriers, some jeeps and a large group of soldiers gathering their weapons and equipment. Moonlight reflected off the shiny metal of the vehicles in the otherwise dark street. One of the officers conferring in a group saw Akram and Haider approaching and saluted.
Haider returned the salute and then cocked an eyebrow to Akram, who took the cue: “sir, these are reinforcements from the 6TH Armored Division at Gujranwala. They were sent here to bolster our defenses on orders from army command.”
Haider was surprised at that. He looked at the new faces and then back to Akram: “You woke me up for this?”
“No, sir,” Akram replied. “It’s what these men have brought with them that I woke you up. Come with me.” He walked past the assembled men to the special trucks parked farther down the convoy. Haider followed, in turn being followed by the new officers. Haider saw the trucks marked with ambulance signs on their sides and top. But the large number of well-equipped soldiers standing nearby pointed to something much more sinister…
Akram got up into the back of the lead “ambulance” and folded the flap over the top. Inside were specially marked containers that Haider knew only too well. In fact, he had handed one exactly like these to Muzammil a month ago…
“What the hell is this? What is going on here?” Haider turned to the assembled officers, all of whom were shaken by the thunderous outbreak of the General. “Who is in charge of this convoy? And where did you get these warheads?”
One of the young captains gathered the courage to speak: “that would be Brigadier Rashid Minhas, sir. He was attached to our convoy along with these vehicles by headquarters, 6TH Armored.”
“And where the hell is the Brigadier?” Haider thundered.
“He’s dead.” Akram said flatly as he jumped from the bed of the truck on to the tar road. “Killed in an airstrike on the convoy thirty kilometers north of the city. This,” he waved at the trucks and the convoy, “is all that made it. It is hard to get anything into the city anymore without it being mauled by Indian airstrikes.”