A Trial of Time- India/US Transference.

As of May 22, 2022, this chapter has been rewritten.

15th April 1942 (Before Churchill Visit)

Captain Siddiq Rahan

'Lonely Gun', Bravo Company, 51st Armoured Regiment

Operation Golden Liberation

Faridpur, East Bengal

British Raj

 

(AN-Faridpur is 130 Kilometres (80 Miles) from Dhaka)

 

“So… Whatever happened to our ‘blitz’ to Dhaka?” Havildar (Sergeant) Rakesh Reddy, the Gunner of ‘Lonely Gun’ asked his commander as the man turned to look towards him.

 

“Bullshit. That’s what happened.” Captain Rahan said as he stared to the distance, where the Army engineers were quickly constructing a bridge to have the tanks and BMPs of the supposed ‘Indian Rebels’, aka, the Indian Army’s 51st Armoured Regiment ‘The Unicorn’ (“Hey! Unicorns are cool!”) along with the XVII ‘Brahmastra’ Corps and 23rd Infantry Division to cross the river. 

 

Ironically, the infrastructure that the British had constructed to transport their men, material and supplies to the British Indian Army who were currently fighting on the Burma Front against the juggernaut that was the Imperial Japanese Army was now being used by the Indian Army.

 

During the briefing before ‘Operation Golden Liberation’ commenced, everyone was made aware that they would perhaps see the beginning phases of the British Indian government’s pre-emptive scorched earth initiative. Using historical accounts and documents as a reference, the Indian Army Headquarters communicated to the Eastern Command the objective of this policy. To deny the Imperial Japanese Army access to resources and food in the region in preparation for the invasion.

 

The issue with this decision was the fact that the civilian population of the Bengal Province and its adjoining region were left to starve, and the compounding of all these policies, along with other factors would lead to the devastating ‘Bengal Famine of 1943’.

 

Historically, the Japanese never reached the region as the infamous ‘Ichi-Go’ and ‘U-Go’ Offensives were blunted by the British Indian Army who would then counterattack and start driving the Japs out of Burma. Nonetheless, the damage to life done during this period was absolutely terrible and even now, the people of modern West Bengal greatly resented the British for that.

 

Expecting that the men on the ground would have strong feelings about the situation on the ground, the General Officer Commanding-in-Chief (GOC) of Eastern Command issued a standing order to all forces.

 

‘All Indian forces are to guarantee the safety and wellbeing of colonial civil and military authorities and their families from any form of 'mob justice' or 'mob retribution' before arranging for their evacuation, regardless of their personal feelings about the situation on the ground. Failure to do so will find the men in question subject to a disciplinary hearing and appropriate punishment dispensed based on culpability.’

 

The reasoning for the order was proven correct almost immediately as reports began filtering on how Indian soldiers encountered villages where people were starving and thus begged the Indian troops for food. Apparently reading about the Famine, and seeing it first hand left many soldiers with strong feelings about the situation, yet they made sure that their general order was carried out and the British Indian colonial civil and military authorities and their families were safely evacuated, save for a few isolated incidents that were timely broken off before major damage to the Indian Army’s reputation could be done. All this drastically slowed the Indian Army’s offensive as they were forced to provide relief to civilians.

 

“Did you hear about the rumours?” Sergeant Reddy asked.

 

“Which ones?” Captain Rahan asked back.

 

“The ones where apparently the Brits are going to execute important leaders of the Independence movement.” Sergeant Reddy said in reply.

 

“Yeah, about that.” Captain Rahan started. “How did we hear about this, anyway?”

 

“I’m not exactly sure.” Sergeant Reddy started. “But some people are saying we intercepted radio transmissions. Some other fool is saying that this info was given by the colonial authorities we sent to Calcutta and Delhi and are being debriefed. One person mentioned something about underground revolutionary cells who are feeding this info to us. And Mishra from Charlie Company said that he knows a guy, who knows another guy, who is the buddy of this dude who is in RAW.”

 

“Hah?! Say what?!” Captain Rahan asked incredulously. “That sounds like dogshit. Especially the last one.”

 

“Wait boss, hear me out!” Sergeant Reddy said before he began whispering. “According to Mishra, RAW’s Special Group was inserted into Dhaka before we moved in via a HALO jump. Apparently, they’re casing the prison.”

 

“That… That does sound plausible…” Captain Rahan said unsurely.

 

“So now… word on the street is that PARA SF is being sent into the Prison and the Air Force will conduct precision airstrikes to distract the garrison.” Sergeant Reddy finished.

 

“Okay listen. Word of advice.” Captain Rahan said. “Next time, don’t go around looking for rumours. DIA or Army Intelligence will haul your ass in.”

 

“Hey! I’m discreet boss.” Sergeant Reddy replied confidently.

 

“I’m saying this as your CO, alright.” Captain Rahan countered. “I don’t want those spooks asking me funny questions.”

 

“Sure thing, boss.”

 

“What? Are those engineers on some union-mandated smoke break or something?” Lonely Gun’s Driver, Corporal Aman Singh asked as he walked over to them.

 

Currently, the spearheading tank column that was being led by Lonely Gun had been halted at the river banks of Ganga, where they halted their advance. The bridge over the river was incapable of holding the weight of the fifty ton behemoth. As per such they now had to wait for the army engineers to finish their Pontoon bridge for the tanks to go across.

 

“Complain all you want.” Captain Rahan said. “We will not be magically flying over the river. So shut up and enjoy the break.”

 

“Like those flying humans?” Corporal Singh asked. “Damn, he turned into red mist.”

 

“Not before shooting one of our trucks with a bloody rifle like it was some kind of anime.” Sergeant Reddy shot back. “Who the fuck does that?”

 

“Yeah. Guess we’ll have to keep our eyes peeled for more of them.” Corporal Singh said.

 

“We’ll kill ‘em.” Captain Rahan said nonchalantly as he got up from the ground and stretched. “Till we get the ceasefire order, we treat them just like how we would have treated the Pakistanis or the Chinese. As enemy combatants. And we show them no mercy.”

 

“But not if they surrender, right?” Sergeant Reddy asked to confirm.

 

Captain Rahan gave him a look that said, ‘Duh,’ before speaking. “Obviously. I’m not planning to become a war criminal, thank you very much.”

 

“Good.” Sergeant Reddy said with a nod. “As long as we have that cleared up.”

 

Just then, the sky was filled by a loud booming sound. The soldiers on the ground looked up and just in time spotted a glimpse of a pair of Indian Air Force SEPECAT Jaguar ground attack planes zooming over their heads. Based on its speed and direction, it was clear that the planes were going to Dhaka. The Jaguars were soon followed by nine Mi-8 transport Helicopters and four Mi-24 attack helicopters that were escorting the former.

 

“Looks like the Air Force and the Paratroopers are going to have all the fun.” Sergeant Singh commented as everyone returned back to whatever they were doing.

 

“Be patient. The engineers are nearly done.” Captain Rahan replied. “Get back inside. We want to be on the move as soon as the bridge is done.”

 

“I don’t want to get beaten by the special forces guys in planting our flag on Dhaka’s Governor’s House.” Sergeant Reddy said.

 

“Yeah. So get your ass in.” Captain Rahan chided. “And don’t worry. We’ll get our chance. The Paras are usually prone to getting cut off behind enemy lines, and we have to be their knights in shining armour to save them.”

 

“I don’t think Lonely Gun was shining even when she came out of the factory.” Corporal Singh replied as he began the procedure to start the tank’s engine. However, it did not start.

 

“See? Now you made her mad at you!” Captain Rahan scolded, much to Sergeant Reddy’s amusement.

 

“You better apologise properly~.” Sergeant Reddy said in a sing-song voice. “Do it good, Mr. I-love-my-tank-more-than-my-own-wife.”

 

“Go away, Sarge.” Corporal Singh pouted. “I’ll have her purring in no time.” Just like that, the tank’s engine roared back to life. “There’s my mountain lion. Waiting on your orders, Captain.”

 

“Advance up to 30 feet away from the bridge. Then be on standby.” Captain Rahan said as he took his seat. “Power her down after, but don’t completely shut the engines off.”

 

“Copy that.” Corporal Singh replied as he did as ordered.

 

After ten minutes, the Engineers cleared the tanks to pass through, and Lonely Gun once again took her place at the lead of the column as the rest of the company followed.

 

---[-]---

 

Captain Arun Gaba,

GARUD Commandos,

Operation Golden Liberation,

16th April 1942

British Defence Line, 60 Kilometres (37 Miles) From Dhaka,

British Raj

 

Four Indian Air Force Mi-17-V5s flew southward on the NOE (nap-of-the-earth aka ‘ground-hugging’) course. The faint sound of explosions and gunfire could be heard in the distance, as the battle for East Bengal raged on. The beating of the chopper’s turboshaft engines was more prevalent, however, somewhat muting the sounds of the battle.

 

Inside the four helicopters were eighty commandos of the Indian Air Force’s Garud Commando Force. Along with them were three HAL Rudras and two AH-64E Apaches escorting the massive flight of helicopters. It was a dangerous mission in all ways he could see. His commandos had to capture the only airstrip in the city, RIAF Tejgaon (which would in the future become Tejgaon Airport) and then form a bridgehead cutting off the primary defence line from the city, encircling the British forces retreating from the area. 

 

It was easier said than done. Based on what intel had provided, the British Indian Army troops were staying true to their unofficial pledge of “Naam, Namak aur Nishan.” (Honour, Loyalty and Identity) and were putting up a fierce fight everywhere possible. This one would not be any different, either.

 

The commandos in the helicopters checked their weapons, equipment, and comms. They mostly wore their traditional pixelated horizontal stripes uniform underneath their plate carriers, while ballistic helmets donned their heads.

 

Major Chandra Savant adjusted his comms to connect with the rest of his unit, and then began to speak. “Alright boys, remember our objective. We have to secure the airstrip and its surroundings before we call the heavy lifters in.”

 

Captain Aruna Gaba, the second-in-command, gave two thumbs up, as he chewed on a small ten rupees Cadbury chocolate bar, to show he heard the man. The other men also gave their affirmatives in various ways.

 

“Remember your training, and all of you will make it back home in one piece.” Major Savant stated. “Or else those Para SF guys will never let us live it down.”

 

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers yelled in response, the soldiers went back rechecking their gear again.

 

“For the record, I think it's our amphibious cousins who’ve got the most to prove.” One of the airmen said over the comms.

 

“Why?” Someone else asked.

 

“The last two times Pakistan fucked with us, the remainder notwithstanding, we sent in the Army and then the Air Force. Poor Navy guys could never try their shot on bombarding Karachi Port again.”

 

“Oh yeah. Apparently, they’re still benched for this too.” A third airman said. “More like MARCOS is. The Navy is active in the Bay of Bengal.”

 

“I do not wanna be MARCOS right now.” A fourth airman added.

 

“Marauder-Flight. Sixty seconds.” The pilot’s voice could be heard on the intercom, giving the commandos one last minute to prepare for the assault mentally and physically.

 

“You heard the man! Get ready!” Major Savant said as everyone began making final checks on their person and equipment. Captain Gaba stuffed the chocolate bar in his mouth entirely and began chewing while he put the balaclava back on his face. Some of the men who saw him couldn’t help but chuckle, to whom Captain Gaba just gave a wink. Meanwhile, Major Savant took a quick look outside his window and saw vegetation, huts and their objective, the Airstrip.

 

As they approached the airstrip, the four Mi-17s adjusted their flight path and broke formation, going to four different points in the airstrip that had been identified as LZs. Major Savant’s Mi-17 arrested its forward velocity and began hovering near some make-shift hangers.

 

“All Commandos, shoot first, ask questions later.” Major Savant ordered as they waited with baited breath for the Mi-17 doors to open.

 

Meanwhile air raid sirens began to blare as the British defenders tried to man their two of the last remaining Bofors AA guns that survived an air raid the previous day. They tried to bring those guns to bear but it was in vain as one of the AA positions was strafed by an Apache’s nose mounted chain gun, ripping apart the unprotected crew. The second gun got blown to pieces by a HAL Rudra’s rocket attack run. Fortunately, the gun’s crew had already abandoned it after they witnessed the fate of the first gun.

 

Despite all that, the resistance still continued, and the defending infantry opened fire at the oncoming choppers with their rifles and Bren LMGs as they tried their best to stave off the attack they were coming under from the heavy suppressive fire provided by the Apaches and Rudras as the Mi17s came close to the ground to discharge its troops.

 

The helicopter hovered inches above the ground at the far end of the airstrip, before the doors slid open and the commandos began jumping out, securing the immediate area following which, they began advancing towards the only concrete building in the airbase, the ATC tower (Air traffic tower). At that point, most of the airfield's defences had already crumbled under the unrelenting attack runs of the Apaches and Rudras.

 

While the remaining defenders tried putting up a fight by firing pot shots at the advancing commandos who suppressed them with their superior weapons, the defenders were already at a massive disadvantage because of the air attack. That along with facing heavily armed soldiers in camo uniforms was ultimately too much for the defenders. After coming under sustained attacks from multiple directions, the remaining defenders began surrendering. 

 

Within 18 minutes, the entire airbase was secured.

 

Following that, Major Savant ordered his men to fan out and take defensive positions all around the airfield to stave off any possible counterattack. Meanwhile, the surviving British and Colonial troops were taken to a nearby barrack which was still somewhat intact and where they were put under guard for the time being. The wounded defenders were provided with medical care and some of the colonial troops detached from the prisoners (with permission from their officers) and were put to work on clearing the runway off their fallen brethren. The attack choppers returned back to base to rearm and refuel.

 

“That went smoothly.” Gaba commented as they readied the UHF radio, with him holding the antenna up.

 

“Last thing we need is for you to jinx us Gaba, now let me inform Warlord of our situation so we can get our reinforcements.” Savant said as he grabbed the receiver and began to speak into it.

 

“Warlord, this is Hotel-Six-Actual. Airstrip secured. Currently holding position for any expected counterattack.”

 

“Warlord copies all. Featherweights are inbound to your location. ETA twenty minutes out.” With this, Savant put the receiver back into its holder, and adjusted his holstered Tavor.

 

“Is Warlord sending in our reinforcements?” Gaba asked while clipping the antenna back into the UHF radio.

 

“Paratroopers are coming in with engineers. We need to hold this place for at least twenty more minutes before reinforcements and supplies are here.” Savant informed Gaba as they began to move into the trenches in the air strip’s perimeter.

 

“Any idea when the Brits will realise their airstrip has fallen to us?” Gaba chimed as he looked out over the trench.

 

“The second they realise it, I’m sure they will attempt to mount an attack against us to take the airport back. They’ll probably be supported with armour, if they still have any left, and artillery.” Major Savant said.

 

“Aren’t you being too specific about their attack pattern, Major?” Captain Gaba inquired.

 

“Because that’s what I would do if I was the commander on the other side.” Major Savant said. “Historically, this airfield saw a detachment from the US Air Force’s China-Burma-India theatre calling this airfield home.” He points at two Gloster Meteors fighter planes parked in the hanger and miraculously intact with little damage. “More importantly, the Royal Indian Air Force cannot lose their planes and this important airfield to us.”

 

-Linebreak-

 

One Hour Later.

 

“Hot damn, they never came.” Captain Gaba said after a whistle.

 

“Well, I can safely say that I am happy to be wrong.” Major Savant added. “Have the POWs been fed?”

 

“Uh… Yes sir.” Gaba replied. “Also, our medics have done what they could do for the injured British Indian soldiers. We’ll need more supplies from when the army comes in. Secondly, I just had a word with the Base Commander. He is asking for you.”

 

“Understood.” Major Savant said. “I’ll have a word with him. I’m leaving you in charge of the cleanup.”

 

“Roger boss.” Captain Gaba said before he made his way to the other paratroopers in his vicinity who were beginning to relax.

 

Major Savant quickly made his way to the Base Commander’s office, where he had posted two commandos to keep the man under guard. When they saw him approach, they stiffened in attention and gave him a salute. Major Savant returned it, before ordering them to be as they were. “Any problems?” Major Savant asked in English.

 

“None sir.” One of the Commandos said. “Though we can clearly say he’s not happy.”

 

“Yeah no shit.” Major Savant said as he turned to look at the Base Commander. “Group Captain Heath Foster. I hope my men were in good company.”

 

“Oh yes. Very much so. Captain–” Grp. Cpt. Foster started.

 

“Major.” Major Savant corrected.

 

“Major. My apologies.” Grp. Cpt. Foster said, but Major Savant was wondering if the man meant it. “Anyway, for a pair of mutes, I truly had the most enlightening conversation with them. We discussed subjects of great import that have boggled European minds for centuries.”

 

“That’s nice to know.” Major Savant said as he stepped forward and got close to Grp. Cpt. Foster’s desk. “I’ll make sure they get bonuses on their paychecks for being such eloquent conversationalists.” The Base Commander scoffed. “Now, I believe you wished for my presence here. So here I am. Summoned by the writ of Your Excellency. Ah. May I have a seat?”

 

“Oh, please do.” Grp. Cpt. Foster answered. “Let it be known that we can still interact as gentlemen in such trying circumstances.”

 

“Thank you.” Major Savant said as he took the seat in front of the Base Commander’s desk.

 

“So. What are you rebels going to do with us?” Grp. Cpt. Foster asked. “Execute us by a firing squad? Shred us with anti-aircraft guns?”

 

“Well… I have to say you do have a very active imagination, Group Captain. We are conserving every bullet, so firing squad is a no-go. And we don’t know how to run your anti-aircraft guns.” Major Savant said.

 

“Bayonets?” Grp. Cpt. Foster asked.

 

“Do you see us having bayonets on our firearms, good sir?” Major Savant asked back incredulously. “I mean, we have combat knives, but I’m convinced beyond any and all reasonable doubt that my men will outright refuse any order that requires them to stab you and your men.”

 

“Is that right?” Grp. Cpt. Foster asked, chin up.

 

“Indeed so.” Major Savant said before becoming serious. “No. We will treat you in accordance with the Geneva Conventions.”

 

“Excuse me?” Grp. Cpt. Foster asked in surprise.

 

“We’re not savages.” Major Savant replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Haven’t your men already eaten?”

 

“They have.” Grp. Cpt. Foster said.

 

“Who’s MREs do you think they were eating? Spoiler warning. Ours.” Major Savant informed.

 

Grp. Cpt. Foster was silent at that admission.

 

“As I said.” Major Savant started as he got up from his chair. “You and your men will be governed under the rules of the Geneva Conventions. If you want to tell the same to your men, I’ll make sure you can meet them at a later time. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

 

With that, Major Savant left the office, leaving a thoughtful Group Captain Foster behind.

 

-Linebreak-

 

Two Hours Later.

 

“Featherweight-One, inbound on final approach, ETA two mikes.”

 

“Finally, we got the heavy lifters coming in with our support!” Gaba announced as he listened to the radio at the RIAF Tejgaon’s air traffic control tower.

 

“Good. Come on, we’ll meet them on the tarmac.” Major Savant said as he took off his own headset.

 

The terrain of East Bengal was mostly unsuited for helicopter landings because of the scarcity of flat open land. Only the airstrip in Dhaka was suitable for large-scale logistics operations. Thus, Savant and his men were required to hold their perimeter.

 

Because a counter-attack was expected, Major Savant and his men had positioned themselves to defend their capture. Once it was clear that none were forthcoming, the comandos moved to carry out other duties such as guarding the POWs and fixing the minor damage to the equipment at the ATC tower. Despite all that, Major Savant was still concerned, as he only had eight sections of commandos to deal with the Dhaka garrison. Heavy reinforcement was still hours away as they were dealing with the defence lines. But with the airstrip held, and following necessary repairs, the Indian Air Force’s could keep flying units in the air to circumvent the defenders and encircle them, which would quickly force a surrender and prevent more bloodshed.

 

On the ground, Major Savant and Captain Gaba watched as the first Mi-26 descended on a rolling approach past them, the massive blades and the huge downwash swept up a massive dirt and dead grass maelstrom slashing towards their positions, forcing them to crouch to not be thrown off by the wind. The Mi-26 thumped down on the runway, and its engines groaned as the pilots powered it down.

 

“Holy shit, that nearly sent me flying!” Captain Gaba yelled as he adjusted his helmet.

 

“What else were you expecting by standing so close!” Major Savant scolded. “Better get used to this because this is going to be the new normal!” 

 

“Featherweight-Two, ETA ten minutes.” One of the commandos manning the ATC let the two men know on the comms. Meanwhile, Army Paratroopers began disembarking from the massive helicopter.

 

“We better go give them a welcome! They would need a briefing if we want them to give us proper security.” Major Savant spoke up, as the two of them made their way towards the Mi-26 and the paratroopers who formed a perimeter around it.

 

“Major Chanda Savant here! I want to speak to your commanding officer!” Savant shouted out as they approached the paratroopers, some of whom were busy lugging equipment out of the transport helicopter.

 

“Captain Ishaan Sama sir! Our orders are to secure the area and protect the engineers!” The paratrooper responded.

 

“Engineers?” Major Savant asked.

 

“Yes sir. A unit from the Bengal Sappers are on their way to come repair and reinforce the airstrip.” Captain Sharma said.

 

“Alright, get your men out as quickly as possible.” Major Savant ordered. “We need to get these birds in and out! There have been no counterattacks, but I don’t want these choppers presenting themselves as a juicy target to the British armoured vehicles for any minute longer than necessary.”

 

“Understood, I’ll tell my men to double time it.” Captain Sharma said as he turned to address his second in command.

 

“Tell them to triple time it!” Major Savant ordered.

---[+]---

 

Lieutenant Samuel Wilford

11th Sikh Regiment

17th April 1942

Binnadangi, Dhaka Division

28 Kilometres from Dhaka

 

Lieutenant Wilford peaked above the sandbags he was using as cover, using his binoculars to scan the road ahead for any enemy movements which might push their position. His regiment was given the task of defending the outskirts and parts of the city of Dhaka as long as possible and giving enough time for the British civilians and the government to evacuate out of the city and head towards their next stronghold, the port city of Chittagong. There, they had the support of the mighty guns of the Royal Navy to protect them and hold out long enough for the British reinforcements to arrive.

 

Their defence line was reinforced by several Rolls Royce Armoured cars, MK.VI Light tanks and Daimler armoured cars, along with Infantry in the south-west parts of the city. The situation for the British was extremely dire as Indian rebel aircraft bombed their only airfield, destroying two squadrons of their fighters on the ground and cratering the airstrip and making it unusable for the time being.

 

There were even the sounds of battle coming from the north of the city, near the air-strip, but Lt. Wilford had his orders, preventing him from moving to reinforce that sector. However, as the sounds of battle got closer, he began assuming the worst, which was the loss of the airfield and the northern parts of the city.

 

"Do you see anything, Lieutenant?" Sergeant Major Hoyt asked.

 

"Nothing till now, Sgt Major." Lt. Wilford replied.

 

"I don’t like this at all, sir. Not one bit. First, there was that ‘wall of light’ nonsense, and then we lost contact with Calcutta and Delhi. If that was not enough, a fence out of nowhere is propped up at the border.” Sgt. Major Hoyt stated.

 

I had sent my sepoys across the border, Sergeant Major. You wouldn’t believe me. They were stopped by some sort of unit, armed with some weird weapons and dressed in some strange camouflage.” 

 

“I was there with you, Lieutenant, when that went down. Those bastards gunned us all down before we even realised what happened, all because one of our men got over excited and did not read the situation.” Hoyt replied.

 

“And here we are. Waiting to face tanks we have never seen in our life before, flying that damn Congress flag. Something has happened with the Raj, but now, we must focus on giving our men enough time to escape.”

 

The Sgt Major nodded in agreement. He then gave a glance at a unit of British Indian troops to his left.

 

"Can we trust them, sir?” Hoyt asked with suspicion. “I am having severe doubts about their loyalty now after the rambling we all heard on the radio about an Indian Republic and amnesty."

 

Lt. Wilford took a glance at himself before he turned back to the road. “Behave. Sergeant Major. Those men have been loyal. If they wanted to, they could have slit our throats at any time. Even now they can stab us in the back or hold us at gunpoint while we then wait for those people to come.”

 

“Such kinds of situations really turn people’s heads, though.” Hoyt responded.

 

“We’ve served with them for four years now.” Lt. Wilford said. “I choose to put my faith in them. I ask you to do the same.”

 

“Understood, Lieutenant.” Hoyt said as he took his rifle and pointed it down the road. After sometime, rustling was heard in the distance, making those with rifles put their fingers on their triggers. It turned out to be one of their own, running as fast as possible with his kit and equipment. “Isn’t that Kumar?” Hoyt asked.

 

“It is.” Lt. Wilford confirmed, just as the sepoy slid into the trench, picked up his rifle and pointed it down the road. “Private, what’s wrong? What did you see?” Lt. Wilford asked as he gave the man a canteen of water.

 

"Enemy armour. Two minutes away, sir!" Kumar loudly reported before he took the offered canteen and took a deep gulp of water. Nonetheless, the warning made all the other soldiers, British and Indian, take up fighting positions. As reported, the infamous heavy tanks they had all been hearing through the radio made themselves known.

 

One British QF 6-pounder gun that had been positioned off to the side, camouflaged by nets and the surrounding vegetation, overlooked the road. With its crew rushing to position the gun on target, an armour piercing round was loaded, and was fired on the tank. The AP round hit its target point blank, obscuring everybody’s vision by the smoke and dust lifted up from the impact. The anti-tank crew cheered at the hit, and the Daimler armoured cars quickly fired for effect.

 

“Hell yeah! Get some!” Sergeant Major Hoyt shouted, looking at what seemed to be a ray of sunshine for them.

 

However, when the dust settled, the tank was still standing there, only now missing some weird metal blocks off its hull. Its main gun was now directly aimed towards the 6-pounder gun. Before the Anti-Tank crew could react, the tank fired, and the gun exploded, making metal shrapnels fly around the area along with chunks of flesh.

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Lt. Wilford pulled his Sergeant Major down the trench and took cover as well, getting a bad feeling as more armour moved forward. As they advanced, the tanks fired upon the armoured cars and trenches.

 

The entire trench line was now being suppressed, and Lt. Wilford didn’t know from where, but even autocannon fire was hitting their positions. The Indian armoured vehicles were continuing their advance, as the tanks fired their coaxial guns.

 

"Ahh!" An English soldier groaned in pain, holding his bleeding shoulder. A British Indian medical orderly crawled to that soldier and began treating him.

 

Another British Indian soldier blindly fired his Sten gun from his trench. But the saturation fire from the Indians had mostly kept the British response to a minimum.

 

"Bollocks!" Lt. Wilford cursed as reloaded his own Sten gun. Their defences were now in shambles as all of their armoured cars and tanks had been taken out of action along with all of their AT guns. That left them with nothing but their PIATs, but the enemy also seemed to know about that and thus kept their distance remaining out of range from their handheld anti-tank weapons.

 

"Sir, we cannot hold much longer!" Sgt Major Hoyt yelled.

 

"We have to! Sergeant Major, the lives of our people depend on it, so keep firing!" Lt. Wilford shouted back.

 

The BMPs soon disembarked their infantry components, and they prepared to assault the trenches with their bayonets fixed. This time, the armour began to move closer to the trenches as the infantry took cover behind them.

 

"Here they come!" Lt. Wilford shouted as he let loose another burst from his Sten gun.

 

“Sir! The rear flank is being overrun! The city is being overrun by rebel paratroopers!” His radio operator informed the Lieutenant.

 

“What?!” Lt. Wilford asked in shock. “Since when did the damn rebels get paratroopers?!”

 

“They are encircling us! The left flank has informed us that they have been overrun, and the right has been routed!”

 

"Damn it!"

 

"We need order, Sir!"

 

He briefly contemplated his options before he made his decision.

 

"Order the line to cease their fire and surrender." Lt. Wilford decided.

 

"Sir?" the radio operator asked in confusion.

 

"You heard me relay the order to the rest of our unit. Ceasefire and surrender now!" Lt. Wilford ordered.

 

His radio operator did so and soon all firing from the British side came to a halt.

 

Consequently, but a few moments after, the firing from the Indian side also stopped.

 

Lt. Wilford was the first to rise from the trench with a white handkerchief on his right hand.

 

"We surrender!" He yelled as he waved it furiously.

 

Out from the back of the tanks and the other armoured vehicles, he saw his enemy properly for the first time. All dressed in a jungle camouflage uniform and armed with rifles he had never seen before, slowly advancing towards him.

 

“Are you the ranking officer here?” One Indian soldier asked as he kept his weapon trained in the general direction instead of directly at Lt. Wilford.

 

“I am.” Lt. Wilford replied.

 

“Step out of the trench, please.” The soldier ordered, and Lt. Wilford complied. “Now, name, rank, serial number and regiment.”

 

“Lieutenant Samuel Wilford. GB-61857092481. 11th Sikh Regiment. British Indian Army.” Lt. Wilford replied.

 

“Alright Lieutenant.” The soldier said. “I trust you know the surrender procedure under the Geneva Conventions?”

 

“Can I ask who am I addressing?” Lt. Wilford asked, as he made sure to keep his hands in the air, and eyes at the other rebels, or more like soldiers, behind the man addressing him.

 

“Lieutenant Subhash Roy. Indian Army.” The reply came. “I’ll ask again, I trust you know the surrender procedure under the Geneva Conventions?”

 

“Yes.” Lt. Wilford replied.

 

“Excellent.” Lt. Roy said. “Let’s begin, shall we? Any injured?”

 

“A few.” Lt. Wilford replied.

 

“Get them out first. Our medics will deal with them while I call for choppers for their evacuation.” Lt. Roy said. “Injured take first priority.”

 

“Very well.” Lt. Wilford said in agreement.

 

Soon, the British Indian Army soldiers were processed. After that, they were asked to stand in a single file. They would march away from the front and go to the POW site. Lt. Wilford noticed how his wounded soldiers were attended to by the Indian Army’s combat medics until they were taken away in helicopters, something as far as he knew only the Germans had and were using it in Europe and North Africa against Allied Forces there.

 

At the rear of the line, Lt. Roy came to Lt. Wilford with an offer. “Owing to your status as ranking officer, I can have a vehicle arranged to pick you up. Would you want to avail it?”

 

“No. Thank you.” Lt. Wilford replied. “I will march with my men.”

 

“Alright.” Lt. Roy said. “It’s a courtesy offer we make to the officers.”

 

“Here I was, expecting you to chop my head off.” Lt. Wilford responded.

 

“My wife would put my head on the centre table, right next to yours if I ever did that.” Lt. Roy chuckled.

 

“Nice to see my old lady ain’t the only scary one.” Sgt. Major Hoyt tried to joke.

 

“The joke does not stop you from marching. Line up.” Lt. Roy said with a grin on his face. “But points for effort, though.”

 

“Well. Worth a try at least.” Sgt. Major Hoyt said with a huff as he got in line.

 

“Your men will be safe, Lieutenant Wilford.” Lt. Roy said. “We’re not the Japanese of this time. You and your men will be treated right. No head choppings.”

 

“Who are you? Really?” Lt. Wilford asked. “Forgive my boldness for saying this, but you are too organised to be rebels.”

 

“Indian Army.” Lt. Roy replied. “Just from 83 years in the future.”

 

The numbers were mind-boggling for the Lieutenant to even imagine, but at this point he knew the man had no reason to lie to him. “And the Empire…” Lt. Wilford broached, hoping to not offend him.

 

“We’ve been independent for 78 years.” Lt. Roy replied. “Well, it will be 78 I believe on 15th August.”

 

“That’s good to know.” Lt. Wilford mumbled as he took his place at the rear of the line and nodded to Lt. Roy. The man assigned an NCO and enlisted soldier who would be with Lt. Wilson at the rear. Soon, the order was given and the POWs began marching.

 

Following the march, Lt. Wilford would come to realise that this was not the India that was called the Jewel of the British Empire. This was not the India he and his men served for. This was not the India he knew. He would understand that this Indian Army was definitely not a rabble of blood thirsty rebels. They were organised, drilled and well-trained. The technology, too, was definitely more advanced than what he had seen even the Germans field. 

 

Right now, the only thing he hoped was that he would make it out of all this alive. Hopefully, his wife, Dorothy, had made it out of Dhaka.