In October 1962, a full-fledged war broke out between India and China. Though McMahon Line was far away from Ambala, orders were received to dig out trenches and to be ready for any enemy air attack .The Air Force Station activated a night ORP and the Vampire aircraft (the only night fighter Indian Air Force had at that time) would fly in from Palam before dusk and fly back from Ambala at dawn after providing night cover to the northern sector.

The phase of the Chinese war was over with political turmoil and shake-up in the ministries in New Delhi. War historians worked on the lessons learnt from the unprovoked attack by China and India’s retaliation. The Indian Air Force was not used during the 1962 war due to the fear of the unknown.

It was only in September 1965 that the IAF actually participated in a conventional war lasting three weeks. Much before the actual operations began, we had moved to our operational locations. The Air Traffic Services were moved to a wooden hut near Runway 30 L where one could barely squeeze in with the equipment neatly stacked, and the supporting manpower in the open. Trenches were dug all around to jump in during air raids. A mobile control room on wheels, concealed by the foliage of trees, was made operational to control the air traffic in case the wooden hut was destroyed.

The section had a dedicated Class IV employee, Chottay Lal, a devoted worker who besides serving tea would look after the needs of the section boys who were not allowed to go out of the camp owing to operational reasons. He was a part of the duty roster of the section.

It was in September 54 years back that Ambala witnessed an air attack by Pakistan air force. Around 0230 hours, the tranquillity of the night was destroyed by air raid warnings. Chottay Lal, who was on duty that day, was positioned next to me in the trench. He was slowly whispering his story and his faith in Almighty. “Sir, there is a mazzar inside the airfield which is providing a shield to the Air Force Station. Let Pakistan send any number of aircraft, nothing will happen to the unit.”

This was his faith in Pir Baba, whose mazzar he was referring to. I listened to his story, ignoring the content. I was looking at the horizon trying to locate the enemy aircraft.

After a while, we could hear the sound of an aircraft. It appeared that the aircraft was approaching the airfield from the west. The sound became louder as the aircraft came close. The B57 was visually spotted from the trench. It dropped a bomb which hit St Paul’s Church adjoining the airfield. The airfield was safe and so was the runway and hangers, which housed critical war equipment.

“Sir, I told you Pir Baba is protecting this airfield,” he said, a grin on his face, when the all-clear was announced.

When I visited the Air Force Station a couple of years back, a senior officer enquired if I had heard about the story of Pir Baba during the1965 operations. I had no hesitation in sharing the story of Chottay Lal with the audience.

The truth is that Ambala was attacked on September 20 and 22 and on both days no serious damage was caused to the airfield and vital installations. Flight operations continued unabated from this airfield. Could we call it the incompetency of the B57 pilots? Chottay Lal’s answer we know already.