Chapter 15: First Mine Planting Operation

Having completed the reconnaissance of the railway tracks and its environs, we decided to plant mines the following evening. Twenty persons led by Capt. Matin became ready for the mission. It was not necessary to post a patrol to cover our right flank (the bamboo bushes) because the Pakistanis seldom sent patrols near the border at night.

Having finished our supper immediately after sunset, we left the base and headed for our destination. We crossed the border through an unpopulated stretch of land because we suspected that the Pakistanis had informers among the Bangladeshi refugees living in the border areas. We slipped out undetected by any civilians. By the time we crossed the border it was already pitch dark and the darkness made it very difficult to find our way to the huts near the railway tracks.

When we reached the cluster of huts, the sky was clear; numerous starts twinkling in the heavens like diamonds against the black sky. It was quiet; the stillness occasionally interrupted by distant report of rifles made by nervous Pakistani sentries. We became quite adept at identifying the weapons by their reports. We learnt how to measure the distance by counting the seconds between the rifle’s report and the crack made by the supersonic bullet as it traveled faster than the speed of sound. For example, a G3 rifle had a distinctive sound—a Tak followed by a Doom. A Chinese rifle had a mellower sound. The automatics were identified both by the sound and rate of fire. While patrolling at night, we often speculated about the type of weapons from its sound.

After reaching the huts, Capt. Matin once again explained the mission to all of us. Then we patiently waited observing and listening for anything unusual. The time was around 8:00 p.m. We did not see any movement from the three bunkers in front of us, the outlines of which were clearly visible even in total darkness because the bunkers stood against a less dark horizon.

After a while we saw the headlights of an approaching vehicle. It was the Pakistani mobile patrol for the protection of the railway track. We let it pass unharmed. We knew that it takes about 30 minutes before the vehicle reappears from the other direction. We also noticed that the vehicle did not stop at any of the three bunkers in front of us. We surmised that the bunkers in front of us were empty. We should have noticed that the vehicle also did not slow down or stop anywhere, it kept on going at a monotonous speed.

There were 20 people in our group and it was decided that six of us would go for laying the mines while the rest will take defensive positions among the huts. Their role would be giving us covering fire in case something went wrong. We took two LMGs and made sure that they were cocked because the sound of cocking a LMG, in the almost pin drop silence of the night, was like a small caliber pistol discharge. I left my rifle and boot; and carried a small spade, a small piece of stick, and a section of a truck tire.

Very quietly and nearly in slow motion, we started proceeding through the paddy field toward the road. The paddy field was both wet and muddy; each step made the foot sink in the soft and sticky mud. I almost tripped in the slippery mud but somehow managed to regain balance with difficulty.

The last 50 meters, we walked very slowly—almost crouching in the mud—measuring each step before putting full pressure on it because too sudden a movement in the mud created a unique sound that wafted a long distance in the night’s stillness. The railway tracks and the road were about six feet elevated from the paddy field. After crossing the paddy field, very slowly we crawled to the top of the earthen road. We were almost between two bunkers; we crawled a little more and selected a spot equidistant from the two bunkers. The bunkers on either side were about 15 meters from us. The two LMGs were positioned in the two flanks, pointing at the bunkers. Very quietly, without making any sound, we stated digging the soft dirt road.

When I had reached the top of the road, I could hear my loudly beating heart. The feeling was like a cauldron of excitement, a mixture of fear, adventure, hate, revenge, and apprehension whipped by a sense of achievement—a feeling that language cannot describe. I was very scared. We were so close to the Pakistani bunkers that anything could have happened; someone could come out of the bunker any moment and see us; the patrol vehicle that we saw before can suddenly reappear; some other vehicles might suddenly appear. So many things could go wrong. I am not sure what my other comrades on the road felt. There was no indication that they were afraid—cautions they were but afraid—no. I was reassured by their composure and concentrated on my task. Both courage and fear are contagious and it spreads with extreme rapidity.

As I was carrying a spade, my job was to dig the hole for the mine and ensure that the hole was of correct depth—neither too deep not too shallow. Two others of our team were also carrying small spades. We completed digging the holes; the mines were placed inside them; we placed the detonator inside the slot in the center of the circular mines; the spider was carefully and firmly placed over the detonator; and finally, the mines were topped with earth. Another person, using the section of the tire, imprinted its impression over the earth-topped mines. As a finishing touch, I opened my jute bag and scraped all excess earth from the road. Since we were crawling, there were no footprints on the road and consequently we did not have to remove them.

We planted three mines, diagonally across one side of the road. As we had nearly finishing planting the mines, suddenly, we heard a hissing sound, the type of sound made when someone strikes a matchbox with a matchstick and the flames are produced—someone nearby was lighting a matchstick. My heartbeat immediately doubled, a sense of torpidity started rendering me numb. Harnessing all my will power, I somehow controlled my scared-ness.

Hearts pounding, all of us turned our head toward the source of the sound—the bunker on our right. We did not realize that this bunker had people inside it. We saw the glow of the matchstick through the firing slots of the bunker, only 15 meters from us. Luckily, the hardened bunker’s firing slots were at the front and not at the sides, where we lay prostrate on the ground—all pointing weapons at the bunker. None of us carried a grenade. Capt. Matin signaled us to crawl backwards to the paddy field. Meanwhile, we had finished putting the tire’s impression over the mines. As I was carrying only the spade, it was easy for me to crawl backwards silently; however, it was not that easy for those carrying the LMGs. We somehow managed to crawl back to the paddy field without making any alarming sound. It must have taken us about an endless two minutes to crawl back to the paddy field. Once we reached the relative obscurity of the paddy field, we felt a little reassured. Very slowly and trying not to make a lot of sound we reached the huts. A few minutes later we saw in the distance the headlights of the patrol vehicle coming back from the other direction. We did not bother to wait and headed for our base across the border.

Nothing happened throughout the whole night and we were also not eager for an army pickup as our victim—we wanted a bigger catch. I was tired and it was late; I went to sleep as soon as we reached camp.

The next morning, as usual, I got up early and as I was brushing my teeth with a stick of Neem, I heard a loud bang shattering the morning’s stillness. We immediately knew what had happened. Even though the location of the mines was at least six miles from our base, nobody could have missed the load bang—such was the explosive power of three anti-tank mines detonating together. We became anxious to know what was caught in our trap. Therefore, just after a quick breakfast, we almost galloped for the huts near the tracks. Since, it was day; we positioned a section around the edge of the border to cover our right flank and reached the huts without any incident. Peering from the cover of the huts, we saw that an army truck was the catch. The left front part of the truck was completely blown off and the truck had tumbled down from the road to the paddy field. No Pakistanis were in the vicinity. Unfortunately, we had no idea about the number of Pakistani causalities. Delighted by our accomplished, we returned to our base without any trouble.