Chapter 9: Fall of Teliapara

On 19 May, while we were resting in our tents after midday meals, suddenly the Teliapara defense erupted in gunfire. Alarmed by the shooting and the bullets zipping over our tents, we immediately bolted for cover and took defensive position facing Teliapara, though Teliapara was about one and half kilometers from our tents and we were not in immediate danger. But the firing was intensifying and we became worried for our Teliapara defense.

Armed with the Chinese rifle and a pouch full of ammunition, I started moving toward Teliapara. After walking a while I took position behind some bushes. There were other members of Mukti Bahini around me. Suddenly I noticed another person in a black lungi and a shirt, crouching next to me. Finding him next to me I proposed, “Let’s go and attack the Pakistanis from the flank.” He looked at me but did not answer; he took out a packet of Scissors cigarette from his shirt pocket, opened the packet, took out a cigarette, and lighted it. Given that I had been smoking pungent bidis since my cigarettes finished a few weeks earlier, the sight and smell of someone smoking a Scissors cigarette, which we considered a premium brand in 1971, made me look expectantly at the packet of cigarettes and my obvious yearning must have been imprinted on my face because he offered me a cigarette. I eagerly accepted the cigarette and lighted it with his help.

After I had furiously puffed the cigarette a number of times and my face now beaming with plain satisfaction, he asked me, “You are from which company?” He nodded his head at my reply and just then some people approached him and the way they addressed him made it clear that that he was an officer. But this was not a time to worry about a person’s rank, Teliapara was under attack; we had to act swiftly and assist our comrades in the defense and I was itching to join the fight. Meanwhile, the firing intensified and more bullets were coming at us.

The officer invited me to accompany him. I discovered that there were at least seventy people in our new group, most equipped with automatic or semiautomatic weapons. I saw only a few .303 rifles; most of the men also looked older and experienced. We strode side by side toward Teliapara. This time we took an indirect route to Teliapara; we took a left turn and headed for the stream and the bamboo bushes where our former training camp was located. After forming a single line on the Indian side of the stream, we took position. The officer, a JCO, and I were under a big banyan tree by the side of the stream on the leftmost flank of our line. The three of us, using the tree as a cover, were inspecting the other side of the stream to detect enemy presence before sallying the stream. Suddenly, the officer spotted something black moving around the bamboo bushes on the far side of the stream and pointed the moving black thing to me. I saw nothing at first but suddenly I glimpsed a black figure among the bushes, in a crouched position. As soon as I was about to agree with him, a hail of bullets greeted us; some hit the tree, some whizzed around us, and some hit the leaves of the tree making a peculiar hissing noise as the flying bullets carried the leave fragments with them. Using the banyan tree as a protection, we also started firing at the black figures.

As we had already formed a single file along the edges of the stream, the officer shouted, “Joy Bangla,” and all of us started shouting “Joy Bangla”; the sound of repeated battle cries reverberating across both the banks of the stream must have been quite impressive because the Pakistani fire seemed to slacken a bit. Firing, running, and shouting we crossed the stream and entered Bangladesh. The enemy fire stopped and we, divided into two groups, entered the jungle. The officer in the black lungi led the group to the left, toward the bamboo bushes, while I joined the group to the right. The automatics kept firing in bursts, while those of us carrying semiautomatics, kept squeezing the triggers as fast as we could. I roughly understood our tactics. Our intension appeared to encircle the Pakistani attackers from the flank and enter the Teliapara defenses from the left flank.

After about ten minutes of running and firing through the jungle, I spotted a naked hirsute figure running straight at me. I was about to shoot him but at the last moment recognized the naked bearded figure. He was the 2^nd East Bengal NCO, who was our first instructor and the same person who was so abusive during training. His name was Havildar Abdul Hakim. Having reached me, he stopped; I could not believe that this person, now terrified, eyes almost popping out from the sockets in fear, face contorted in horror, and in a state of complete nakedness, was the same person who was full of bravado while we were trainees. He tried to speak but the desperate dash through the thorny bushes combined with his panic-stricken state made him panting and gasping. He took a while to catch his breath and then started babbling something loudly. He was speaking so excitedly and with such rapidity that his speech came out garbled and I could not understand anything he was saying. Finally I understood his message with great alarm. He told me that the defenses of Teliapara had fallen and Pakistanis were now occupying it. I immediately fathomed the danger of our situation. Now, while we tried to outflank the Pakistanis when the enemy had already occupied our defense, we risked being out-flanked ourselves by the enemy. Our only route of retreat was the stream, which was in our control at that moment. If the Pakistanis cut off this route, we would become completely encircled by them. A flanking attack was meaningful as long as Teliapara was in our control. Now I needed to quickly find the officer and stop the flanking attack we were attempting because the enemy was already occupying Teliapara.

I knew that he was somewhere to my left. By now the Pakistanis had recuperated and resumed firing at us, and in the dense foliage of the teagardens, who was shooting at whom was also unclear. Anyway, I started running to my left in search of the officer. The entire forest was alive with crisscrossing of bullets, some creating terrifying noise as they hit some trees or leaves; bullets hissed from every direction. Sometimes crawling, sometimes running, and sometimes taking cover behind trees and shooting back at the general direction of enemy fire, I somehow located the officer, who did not yet know that Teliapara had already fallen. As I told him about the fate of Teliapara, he immediately halted the counter attack, and asked everybody to fall back behind the stream. Our right flank already knew about our plight and they had started to fall back. Finally, the entire company crossed the stream to safety.

As we were heading back to camp, I finally asked a person the name of our commander—the officer in the black lungi, and I was told that he was Capt. Matin. I rejoined Capt. Matin at the front of the retreating column. Capt. Matin invited me join his company and I gladly accepted the offer.

As we reached the camp, I found that he was living in a medium sized tent. The tent had two beds; one was a sturdy looking steel framed bed with springs and the other was a makeshift bed made by stacking empty boxes of mortar ammunition. Both beds had foam mattresses. He offered me the bed made of mortar ammunition.

As I had no change of clothes since I left Dhaka on 3 April, my clothes were so dirty that one could use all possible pejoratives to describe its pathetic condition. Moreover, the trousers and shirt were torn in many places. Today’s desperate dash through the bushes also contributed to the tearing. I also received some nasty scratches on the skin which were now covered in dried blood. Though, I could not smell it myself, I must also have been stinking.

Anyway, Capt. Matin gave me one of his lungis and a shirt and asked me to change my clothes. After changing my clothes, I kept the dirty clothes under the bed in the hope of cleaning and mending it when I had the opportunity. He asked me to take a bath and pointed to a piece of detergent soap that lay in a corner of the tent. There was a small pool of stagnant but clean water nearby where I took a bath with liberal use of the detergent soap. For the first time since I had left Dhaka, I felt clean. Sometime later I saw food was being served in the tent and without wasting any time started gulping down. The roti, bhaji, and dal was well cooked and delicious —my first decent meal in many weeks. I was ravenous and cleaned my plate in no time.

Teliapara was the last territory under the control of our sector and losing it to the Pakistanis was a big blow to us. Therefore, our sector command was very anxious to recapture Teliapara. Consequently, as soon as we had finished supper, all the company commanders and other officers got together at the Sector Headquarters to prepare a plan for the recapture of Teliapara the following morning. I remained in the tent while Capt. Matin attended the meeting. He came back late at night and immediately assembled all the platoon and section commanders. He informed everybody the plan of counter attack at first light. For some time they all discussed the plan of attack while I listened silently. I also came to know that we had taken a number of causalities when Teliapara fell—both seriously injured as well as dead.

He told us that our company would be counterattacking from the same position from where we had attacked Teliapara today. He assigned responsibilities to the platoon commanders, drew a map on the ground, and demonstrated the plan of attack. Two companies, our entire strength, would participate in the counter attack. I don’t remember if we had any reserve troops to support us. We had three 3-inch mortars in our sector and all these mortars would be used to provide supporting fire prior to the attack. After the planning was over, the commanders dispersed to brief their respective teams.

I was very excited about the counter attack but the exhaustion combined with the lure of the comfortable bed and a satisfied stomach soon made me embrace blissful slumber.