India — Burma border, Tirap Frontier District, India
The attack from the south came as a complete surprise, not least because the enemy troops broke into Indian territory, not from China, but from Burma.
Air support came from Dongkar and Orang in Tibet and Sinkaling, Myityina and Putao in Burma, laying down a devastating gauntlet of fire on the unprotected Indian positions. The main infantry advance came up from Namya Ra, twenty-five kilometres south of the border.
For almost twenty years, since minor skirmishes in 1987, Chinese and Indian troops had successfully and peacefully protected their borders. At the most tense times, almost half a million troops had faced each other. India deployed eleven divisions and the Chinese PLA deployed fifteen. The mountainous terrain, high-altitude climate and logistical supply difficulties deterred either side from starting a protracted conflict there. India had reluctantly allowed China to continue its occupation of the Aksai Chin area, occupied since 1959, and nestling on the border with Kashmir. China claimed, but had left alone, Arunachal Pradesh, to the east of Bhutan which borders Tibet.
In 1996, both governments agreed to reduce the size of their armies on the border, allowing India to deploy more men against Pakistan in Kashmir. But as tensions ebbed and flowed, troop levels climbed back up again. In the past week, Indian satellites had picked up images of thousands of Chinese troops pouring in, threatening the northern border positions. India reinforced its own positions with the Kameng, Subansiri, Siang and Lohit frontier positions.
Neither side seemed to want conflict. This front was cold, inhospitable and bereft of glory. Even though it was May, conditions in the mountains were appalling and no modern army would want to fight there.
The Chinese build-up, carried out in broad daylight, was a massive decoy to the operation planned to the south. The deployment in Burma had been carried out at night to avoid satellite surveillance. India’s concentration was primarily on Kashmir. An eye was being kept on the China front. The Burmese border was virtually being ignored.
Troops from the Indian 2nd Mountain Division were unprepared. They tactically withdrew and consolidated enough to stop the Chinese advance five kilometres from Ledo. Once there, both sides secured their positions, but the Chinese army was dug in on Indian territory.
Presidential helicopter Marine One, USA
Tom Bloodworth was interrupted in the middle of a conversation, notifying his office that he was en route from Camp David to Washington. He immediately passed the news on to John Hastings through the intercom on the Sikorsky VH-3D. ‘Pakistan has carried out a tactical nuclear strike.’
‘Battlefield or urban?’ asked Hastings.
‘Battlefield. It appears very precise and calculated.’
‘India?’
‘No word yet. We’re trying to get through to Dixit. But Chinese troops have also invaded India through Burma…’
Conversation on board was difficult at the best of times. Hastings remained quiet for five minutes, juggling his policy of domestic focus to the nuclear war which had just broken out in Asia. Then he said: ‘Get me the details of our task forces in the Indian Ocean and South China Sea. We’ll have a full crisis meeting of the Principals’ Committee on landing at the White House.’
Prime Minister’s Office, Downing Street, London
The British Prime Minister, Anthony Pincher, was woken by his Private Secretary, slipped on a tracksuit and gym shoes and came down from his flat above 11 Downing Street. The Foreign Secretary, Christopher Baker, had just arrived. John Stopping and Sir Malcolm Parton had been in Downing Street for fifteen minutes. The emergency alert had come through from the Permanent Operations Headquarters in Northwood, north London, which acted as a nerve centre for Britain’s military activities around the world.
Next door to the Prime Minister’s office the powerful Press Secretary, Eileen Glenny, was at her computer, writing options for a statement to go out on the rolling news channels as soon as decisions had been made. She was determined to make sure her Prime Minister’s voice was heard before that of the American President, the Leader of the Opposition or any other European leader.
Across the road, in the basement of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, officials from the relevant departments were setting up a twenty-four-hour operational working area, known as the Emergency Room. The lead department was Asia — Pacific, with Martin Andrews as head of the South Asian Department taking immediate control. He drafted in experts on nuclear proliferation, counter terrorism, consular affairs, for British nationals at risk, and liaison colleagues from the Secret Service (MI5) and the Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) and other involved regional departments, plus a representative from News Department.
The BBC, CNN and three Web sites were displayed on screens around the room and officials were already contacting embassies, collating the scant information and trying to ensure that the European Community would speak with one voice. But already the French were being obstructive: they had sold Mirage aircraft to both India and Pakistan. Germany, which had been involved in India’s nuclear-powered submarine technology, was noncommittal. The smaller countries such as Denmark and the Netherlands were worried that Britain would charge in with its militaristic hat, without consultation, in the wake of whatever the Americans decided to do.
Pincher opened up the Downing Street cabinet room and sat down. The Defence Secretary, David Guinness, was the last to arrive, having come straight from a briefing at the Ministry of Defence on the other side of Whitehall.
‘We have not yet detected any response by India,’ said Guinness.
‘Has anyone talked to Dixit?’ said Pincher.
‘He’s not answering his phone,’ said the Foreign Secretary.
‘The Indian offensive is continuing across the LoC in Kashmir,’ said Guinness. ‘Since Pakistan went nuclear, India has also pushed ahead into Sialkot, near Jammu in the north. It might have even fallen, and Indian armour has continued to shell the cantonment area of Lahore. Supply lines are being set up between the frontline and the Wagah border crossing.’
‘Meaning?’ said the Prime Minister.
‘Dixit must be gambling that Hamid Khan won’t carry out a second strike. He’s sacrificed his southern advance to make Pakistan a pariah state.’
Eileen Glenny came into the room without knocking, took a seat next to the Prime Minister, looked at her watch and glanced at the four television screens banked into a bookcase in the wall with BBC News 24, BBC World, Sky News and CNN showing simultaneously.
‘I have three statements, Prime Minister,’ she said. ‘One, we condemn Pakistan’s first use, et cetera. Two, we condemn violence on both sides, abhor Pakistan’s first use and call on restraint from India. Three, we point up that India is a democracy and Pakistan is a military dictatorship.’
Pincher tapped the bottom of his pen on the table and turned to the Defence Secretary: ‘I read somewhere that we had been in Bangladesh helping with relief efforts. What have we got there?’