I had wanted to make a flying visit to Towang to see my old brigade, then commanded by Brigadier John Dalvi, but since the CGS had allowed me no more than five days off from Delhi for this tour, the only way I could have managed the visit would have been by helicopter. Unfortunately, the air force was unable to lend me one and I had to forego my visit to 7 Brigade in Towang.
Earlier in the year Dalvi, on his way to NEFA to take up his appointment, had called at my office and asked me for any personal information that I could pass on to him about the brigade and its area. I had recounted for him, among other things, my experience of continuously having to resist pressure from the division to push more and more troops up to the McMahon Line. I had warned him, informally, to resist such pressures if he could, because of the logistical difficulties.
As he records in his book, Himalayan Blunder, I had also told him about my uneasiness regarding the dominating heights of the Thag-la ridge overlooking Khinzemane, and my own remissness in not having undertaken a reconnaissance of that area two years previously. I had suggested that he might do that as soon as possible, especially now that his Brigade HQ had moved up to Towang. I would greatly have liked to have discussed these matters again with Davli, especially as his brigade’s operational jurisdiction had by then been extended to the Bhutan border (with the establishment of Dhola post). Unfortunately, I never got even as far as speaking to the Brigade Commander because the telephone lines were down.
On my return to Delhi I referred the Thag-la dilemma to the Director of Military Survey. The latter commented that as the existing maps of the area were ‘sketchy and inaccurate, having been compiled from unreliable sources’, the map co-ordinates of the new post quoted by the patrol leader were of doubtful accuracy. He confirmed that the recognised border was the watershed, but qualified this statement by adding ‘the exact alignment of [this] will depend on accurate survey’. This, he added, would take two to three years to complete.That was not greatly enlightening so J sent the file to the Ministry of External Affairs. The Historical Section of which replied: ‘We may permit the Army to extend the jurisdiction, if they have not already done so, up to the line suggested by them.’ Since the Chinese had already occupied Thag-la, I went to see Dr S. Gopal, Director of the Historical Section (and, incidentally, son of the then President of India) in order to double-check before I passed on this decision to HQ 4th Division. Gopal explained that at the time of the boundary talks with the Chinese, the government of India had been aware that the actual terrain in the area of the trijunction was different from that depicted on the quarter-inch scale map sheet.
The Chinese were therefore given the reference in northings and southings (91o 40’ East, 27o 40’ North). He noted on the file: ‘This point was further north of the tri-junction shown on our maps and nearer the point now suggested by Army Headquarters. Furthermore, the Chinese had been told that the alignment (of the McMahon Line) followed Thag-la ridge, which is also the ridge shown by Army Headquarters in the sketch.’ What Gopal had not told me – and I found out only later – was that the Chinese had not accepted our arguments and had counter-claimed Thag-la ridge, as well as the valley at Khinzemane, as Chinese territory.
This short spell of detente ended in early September, when there was a sudden increase in the severity and frequency of Chinese protests.
I passed on Gopal’s remarks to HQ Eastern Command for onward transmission to 4 Infantry Division, but by then it was mid-September and events in that remote region on the border of Bhutan and Tibet had already reached a critical stage.
Although the post at Dhola had been established as early as June, for three months the Chinese had made no protest about its siting. This was probably in conformity with the relatively soft diplomatic approaches by both Delhi and Peking during July and August. This short spell of detente ended in early September, when there was a sudden increase in the severity and frequency of Chinese protests.
As a mark of appreciation for my work during the Goa crisis, as his COS Committee Secretary, Admiral Katari had promised that he would send me on a cruise on the aircraft carrier Vikrant whenever he found a suitable opportunity. This soon presented itself. The Ministry of Defence invited a group of members of parliament ‘to attend a naval exercise off the coast of Goa in September 1962. ‘Lieutenant General Muchu Chaudhuri was to accompany them as conducting officer and, true to his word, Katari suggested my name as Liaison Officer (or some such sinecure role). I was to leave Delhi on the morning of 9 September, meet the rest of the party at Cochin the next day, board the Vikrant and attend routine naval manoeuvres in the Arabian Sea off the coast of Goa. We were to be landed at Bombay on 15 September.
It happened to be a quiet period in the Sino-Indian “˜confrontation; the PM was about to take off for Europe for a prolonged visit, and the Defence Minister was shortly due to go to the UN General Assembly session. It was reasonable to conclude that the government did not expect any crisis to develop in the near future.
The proposal for the cruise had been made during the period of the detente, so Kalil had raised no objection to my joining it. However, since then Krishna Menon and Kaul had fallen out. This was a periodic occurrence in their relationship, but this time Kaul had insisted on taking a month’s leave and going off to Kashmir on holiday; an added reason being an illness in the family. After Kaul’s abrupt departure on leave I should, in all conscience, have voluntarily withdrawn my name from the naval junket, but I was able to justify the excursion to myself. It happened to be a quiet period in the Sino-Indian ‘confrontation; the PM was about to take off for Europe for a prolonged visit, and the Defence Minister was shortly due to go to the UN General Assembly session. It was reasonable to conclude that the government did not expect any crisis to develop in the near future.
It did, and at the eleventh hour when I could not extricate myself from the cruise. On the evening of 8 September, just as I was sitting down to dinner, I received a message from the Ops Room conveying the alarming news that a large body of Chinese troops had come down the Thag-la slopes and surrounded Dhola post. (Tsedong). They had destroyed one of the several log bridges over the Namka-chu in order to isolate the Assam Rifles detachment; the JCO in command had asked for urgent reinforcements.
It was then that a personality problem that must have been long brewing suddenly projected itself on the General Staff tableau; it concerned Major-General Jogindar Singh Dhillon, the officiating CGS.
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