On December 11, I heard that the enemy had left Dhobra and fallen back to Chapai Nawabganj. I didn’t want to wait any more and decided to join my company. I was unable to contact Jahangir on the walkie-talkie, so I left Argararhat without orders. Normally, I would have walked back, but that day I commandeered a tractor from the agriculture office in Gomastapur and rode on it to the northern banks of Mahananda River, the town of Chapai Nawabganj was on the southern bank. When I saw the town, I felt elated. From the time I joined Sector 7, our goal was to liberate Chapai and now it was just across the river.
When I met Jahangir, he was frantically trying to get things organized. He had arrived there earlier that morning with his company and mine. Jahangir was adamant about dislodging the Pakistanis from Chapai. The town was a sub-divisional headquarters and a built-up area. There were many inhabitants inside and fighting could inflict considerable collateral damage. The Pakistanis had two companies of 32 Punjab, a wing (battalion) of EPCAF and several units of Razakars defending the town. [32 Punjab was the unit that carried massacre in Dacca on the night of March 25/26. The battalion headquarters were also in Chapi]. That’s more than a thousand men. They did not have any artillery, although they had 81mm/3-inch mortars.
Attacking Chapai posed quite a few challenges. First, the river was a major obstacle; it was more than 100 meters wide and the depth exceeded 4-5 meters. We could not cross it under hostile fire. Getting across with all our troops was going to be a major operation in itself. Second, fighting in a built up area had its own challenges; we did not have rocket launchers, although we did have our anti-tank grenades. Normally, our soldiers carried two hand grenades on them, but fighting inside the town would require more. At the same time, they could not carry too many that would interfere with their movement. We could improvise shaped charges with plastic explosives, but we did not have sufficient explosives and detonators and we had never trained on charging entrenched positions with shaped charges. As Jahangir and I considered all these, it became clear that we needed to get all the grenades we could find for our men. The tractor I had commandeered could be used for bringing the battle supplies, but we did not have the trailer which was in Gomastapur. Jahangir deputed an NCO to get the trailer and bring additional grenades and mortar ammunition from Sona Masjid.
From the time we arrived on the bank of Mahananda, the enemy was pounding us with mortars and firing their automatic weapons intermittently across the river. This was just harassing fire; they weren’t aiming at anything and their mortars did not seem to target any particular area. Our men were also firing back and our mortars were targeting the EPCAF lines. We couldn’t afford to expend too much ammunition, we’d need it for the impending attack on the town but it was difficult to restrain our men. It was also difficult to keep them out in any form of deployment. If a mortar shell landed on their location, they’d move to another location. The best thing would be to dig in but we did not have sufficient number of digging tools. We managed to get some from neighbouring villages and many villagers volunteered to help us dig in spite of mortar shells landing all around.
That evening Jahangir and I discussed our next course of action. Jahangir wanted to launch the attack at dawn on December 14. Bazlu and Rafiq were on the eastern side of the town. Attacking from that side would be expensive in terms of casualties because of the strong enemy positions along the EPCAF perimeter. Our attack would have to be launched either from the western side or the southern side along the Chapai Nawabganj-Rajshahi axis. Gyas’ troops were somewhere along the Chapai Nawabganj-Rajshahi road and we needed to coordinate with him before our attack. Jahangir wanted to cross the river and reconnoiter enemy positions from the western and southern side. If possible, he would try to link up with Gyas. While Jahangir was out on patrol, my task was to complete the preparations for the attack, making sure everyone had sufficient grenades and the people carrying anti-tank grenade rifles were properly positioned along the assault line. I was also told to send a runner to Bazlu and Rafiq asking them to launch a diversionary attack on the EPCAF lines at dawn. Arrangements for the river crossing would also have to be fine tuned so that we didn’t have unnecessary delays at the crossing site.
Jahangir left for the reconnaissance mission early in the morning of December 13. Shortly afterwards, Awal Chowdhury arrived with his company. He was supposed to man the defense on the northern bank when we launched the attack on the town. The BSF battery had moved to a new gun position and could take on any target inside the town and beyond to support our attack.
This time, there was no need for us to control artillery fire. The BSF forward observation officer would be with us, but he did not want to cross the river with assaulting troops; he would remain on the northern bank and was given a walkie-talkie to communicate with us.
Colonel Zaman arrived on the northern bank around ten in the morning. I met him at the mortar position. Naila was with him; she had insisted on seeing the battle front. They were in the mortar position for less than five minutes when a shell landed twenty meters away. Immediately, the Sector Commander sent his daughter back. This was no place for visitors; a battle was raging. I told him what Jahangir and I had discussed the previous evening. After hearing our plan, Colonel Zaman felt that the town might fall without a fight, but he did not categorically express his opinion against the impending attack. He then inspected our positions along the river bank. At one point, he even fired a few shots at the general direction of Chapai from his AK-47; this was the only time when he actually fired his weapon. He left around mid-afternoon.
As soon as he left, I checked our preparations for the attack. The Sub-sector senior JCO assured me that all arrangements were complete. I did not ask for details. My experience of the past two months told me that the JCOs and NCOs always took care of the logistical details. They needn’t be told much except what was expected; they always managed to deliver. Around dusk, a runner from Jahangir’s patrol arrived with a chit. He had made contact with Gyas whose force had taken up a blocking position astride the road and railway tracks to Rajshahi. If the enemy tried to breakaway they would have to fight through this position.
By now, the strength of our companies exceeded two hundred, we both had eight platoons. Jahangir had chosen the crossing site, about two miles west, and also arranged guides. Several guerilla groups including Shahjahan’s had joined us. We arrived at the crossing site around midnight. I did not see any boats. Right then a group of villagers bundled in their shawls and carrying oars arrived. In the dark of the night, they got down in the cold water and began lifting boats from the bottom of the river. In no time, about 8-10 boats were ready to ferry us across. Some of the boats were quite large and could accommodate twenty to thirty. Within an hour the attacking force, more than five hundred men, were on the other side.
People were tired and hungry. As soon as we got to the assembly area, a large mango orchard on the west side of town, village folks appeared with chal bhaja (roasted dry rice) and water at that ungodly hour. It could not have been easy for them to organize food for five hundred people, even if each of us only got a fistful. That, washed down with water causes the rice to swell in your stomach and you are not hungry any more.
I found Jahangir in a cowshed, resting on a khatia. He was using his map case, almost the size of a bed sheet, as a blanket. He seemed relaxed. “Come, we have some time; get as much rest as you can,” he said when he saw me. I piled in, my head beside his legs and his likewise, facing each other so that we could talk. The map case covered both of us. The chal bhaja was in, the middle as we munched on it and made small talk; nothing about the war or the impending attack. We talked about our families; the prospect of seeing them soon brought us joy. The Pakistanis would surrender any day now and our country would be free. What a horrendous time the past year had been. We both wondered what our lives would be in a liberated Bangladesh.
TWO
Dawn was approaching and we got our men ready for the assault. My company was on the right towards the Rajshahi road and Jahangir was on the left; on his left was the river. Many of our men were from Chapai Nawabganj sub-division. They were excited about liberating ‘their town’. It was very cold and foggy. Visibility was restricted. We couldn’t see beyond a few yards; the winding roads restricted our vision even further. From the past two days, our mortars and the BSF artillery pounded enemy positions along the river bank and in the EPCAF lines. We knew this would be a costly fight.
We broke cover and the attack started as Jahangir gave the code word on the walkie-talkie. Bazlu and Rafiq also received their code word to launch the diversionary attack. The first rays of sunlight appeared over the town in the eastern horizon. Initially, we progressed rapidly and got to the edge of town. The line of enemy bunkers was less than thirty meters away. We could see the occupants; they were firing at us vigorously. All the bunkers were connected with deep communication trenches. The enemy could go from one bunker to the next without exposing themselves. Our men were behind whatever cover they could find; one couldn’t raise one’s head or get out in the open. Nevertheless, we were making progress bit by bit. Suddenly, I saw Shahjahan, the professor guerilla leader, falling back; he was bleeding profusely from an arm.
I was just in front of the corner bunker that was the pivot of the enemy’s defensive perimeter. Neutralizing this position would give us access to the enemy’s rear on the southern side. I called for anti-tank grenades. A man with a SLR with anti-tank grenade launcher appeared by my side. He fired two; both missed and hit a building behind the bunker. We were bogged down because the enemy’s automatic fire covered everything. I was watching this bunker intensely and realized that the bunker’s fire bays created a dead zone where the enemy could not see or fire; it was like a small corridor less than three feet wide. I was not the only one to see the dead zone; Lal Mohammad a.k.a. Lalu had seen it as well. All of a sudden, he jumped up, an armed grenade in one hand and with the other he was firing his SLR like a pistol from the waist level, as he charged the bunker screaming, “Sisterf..., sons of swine! Toder aiz khaiya falamu”! It was a sight to behold. Then, he got on top of the bunker and threw his grenade through the fire bay. The grenade went off and the bunker was silenced, its occupants dead or dying. The moment that happened another fellow ran in grabbed the carrying handle of the Chinese LMG that was protruding out of the bunker and pulled the weapon out! That prompted everyone to rush and get into the communication trenches, 5-6 feet deep and 3 feet wide. We charged through the communication trenches lobbing grenades inside bunkers along the way. Those who came out of their bunkers were shot.
After Lalu cleared that first bunker, the enemy’s entrenched and fortified positions began to fall like a house of cards58. In less than an hour, we cleared all the bunkers on the western perimeter. The enemy also had positions on roof tops and inside buildings. I saw a sniper firing at us from the window of a one storey building barely twenty meters away. There were several occupants in that building. The door from verandah was open; the jokers forgot to shut it when they went in. I lobbed a grenade; it bounced on the verandah and went inside the room through the door. Boom! I lobbed another one and the same result. No one was firing at us from that building any more.
The enemy had rooftop positions from where they were sniping and pouring LMG fire on us. By then we were running out of grenades, the most important weapon for this type of engagement. I had six at the outset and then I saw I had none. Except for the two that I had lobbed into the one storey building, I had no recollection where I had used the others. Running out of grenades would bring us disaster. I checked with the men around me. Most had run out of grenades. If I had to plan this operation all over again, I would have to have a continuous supply of grenades for the entire duration of battle. Every man would have had an allotment of at least 10 grenades. It was around 11:00, and I was thinking about how to replenish grenades when Nawsher, the MFC, who was with Jahangir, came on the walkie-talkie. “Tiger is dead!” he said.
I was stunned. In hindsight, we can say many things, expound many theories but when adrenaline is high, people are not thinking much, you just rush and do things instinctively. A LMG from a rooftop was firing at Jahangir’s men and preventing his company from advancing. Jahangir broke cover, got close to the building and lobbed a grenade to neutralize the LMG position when a sniper from another building shot him through the left eye. [Captain Mohiuddin Jahangir was posthumously conferred with Bir Shrestho, the highest award for gallantry] Just one shot. Lalu took as much risk as Jahangir, if not more and yet, he survived the war. It was all fate.
I was frantically calling the rear for grenades; there were none; only people in Awal’s company had some. With our grenades exhausted and our commander fallen, we had lost the impetus. We could not dislodge the enemy with small arms fire. People started to fall back. We had to literally scramble to hold the assault line at the edge of town. Our men were too tired even to retrieve the dead. “Sir, it is winter, the bodies would be okay, we’ll get them later,” a fellow told me. With the lull in fighting everyone was hungry and seemed impatient. After dusk, we received our chapati-dal sandwich.
THREE
In the morning, Dr. Montu arrived with grenades. Not too many, but everyone got two. Dr. Montu volunteered to command Jahangir’s company and go at it again, but the men were not interested. The Pakistanis could surrender any time and people saw no sense in any more fighting. The Pakistanis did not re-occupy the area we had cleared the previous day. They were holding on to the EPCAF lines. We went to recover the bodies from the previous day’s battle and Dr. Montu recovered Jahangir’s body; we had lost more than thirty men. The bodies were sent back to the rear. Jahangir was buried at Sona Masjid beside Major Najmul Haq and the others were buried in the cemetery beside the field hospital.
That night we could hear the enemy trucks revving up and leaving, but we could not engage them from our position. Bazlu and Rafiq could give chase. I called Bazlu on the walkie-talkie. He cut me short and told me to listen to the radio. The Pakistanis would surrender any minute; Eastern Command had established contact with Niazi and the terms of the surrender were being negotiated. Then I thought that Gyas had a blocking position on the Rajshahi road; he would get them. Gyas’ blocking position did not block anything and the Pakistanis withdrew to Natore.
On the morning of December 16, we entered the town. People rushed out of their homes to greet and hug us, many had tears in their eyes. For the past four days, the townspeople had been trapped inside their homes and somehow survived the shelling and firing as the battle of Chapai Nawabganj raged. They brought us garlands, sweets and whatever food they could lay their hands on. The gratitude of a grateful nation was visible everywhere. Bangladesh was finally free.
A Qayyum Khan is a freedom fighter who joined Mukti Bahini in the early days of the liberation war when he was a student of University of Dhaka. He was commissioned during the war and fought in sector 7 as a second lieutenant. The piece is excerpted from his book titled ‘Bittersweet Victory: A Freedom Fighter’s Tale’ published by University Press Limited, Dhaka, 2013.