It is 31 years since the IPKF launched Operation Pawan in 1987 to take control of Jaffna and other areas from the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam and disarm the Tigers as part of the Indo-Sri Lanka Accord. The Indian Army took control of the peninsula in nearly two weeks of brutal fighting, something that the Sri Lankan army had tried and failed to achieve for several years. The main task of the IPKF was to disarm the different militant groups, not just the LTTE. The force was initially not expected to be involved in any significant combat. However, within a few months, the IPKF became embroiled in a battle with the LTTE to enforce peace. The differences started with LTTE trying to dominate the interim administration and also refusing to disarm. Soon, these differences led to the LTTE attacking the IPKF, at which point the IPKF decided to disarm the LTTE militants, by force if required. Given LTTE’s tactics in guerrilla warfare and using women and child soldiers to fight battles, it soon escalated into repeated skirmishes between the IPKF and LTTE.
Batticaloa District is one of the 25 districts of Sri Lanka and is located in the east of Sri Lanka in the Eastern Province. The population of the district is mostly Sri Lankan Tamil. The population of the district, like the rest of the east and north, was affected by the civil war. The war killed an estimated 100,000 people. Several hundred thousand Sri Lankan Tamils, possibly as many as one million, emigrated to the West during the war. Many Sri Lankan Tamils also moved to the relative safety of the capital Colombo. The war also caused many people from all ethnic and religious groups who lived in the district to flee to other parts of Sri Lanka, though most of them have returned to the district since the end of the civil war.
Located on the western fringe of Batticaloa District is a non-descript village called Pullumalai. This village was severely affected by the civil war. My battalion, 13 MAHAR was deployed in Batticaloa District as part of the ‘Red Shield Division’ of the IPKF IN 1988. Our posts were spread all over the district and the battalion headquarters was located at Pullumalai where I was performing the duties of Adjutant. I was then a Captain with about ten years of service. We were deployed in Sri Lanka at a time when the duels between IPKF and the LTTE were at its zenith. There wasn’t a single incident-free day ever – the ‘events’ ranged from the killing of innocents by the LTTE, ambushes and counter ambushes by the IPKF and LTTE, heavy volleys of LTTE fire upon IPKF posts, LTTE militants engaged in a firefight with the IPKF, etc. These were routine incidents!
On 18 Jul 1988, my Commanding Officer called me to his makeshift office at about 4 PM and said that he had been called up to the Brigade Headquarters (about 40 km away) for an operational conference and that he would be back the next day. Since I would be the only officer left behind in the headquarters, he cautioned me to be alert for the night since the LTTE was quite capable of creating some trouble, going by the events of the preceding few days. Soon after he left, I quickly went around the battalion headquarters to check the guard and also to activate the “Quick Reaction Team” to ascertain their level of alertness and reaction. Thereafter I got back to my office and buried myself in the files and other routine work.
At about 9 PM I was informed by the guard that a small convoy of 7 ASSAM, led by an officer, were at the gate. I instructed the guard to check out the credentials of the party including the name of the officer and then let them in. About half an hour later, there was a knock at my door followed by a crisp,
“Good Evening Sir !”
I looked up at the entrance of my tented office and there stood a tall, handsome young Second Lieutenant with a 9mm Carbine strapped across his shoulder. I rose from my chair and said,
“Welcome to 13 MAHAR, Rajeev”
The youngster was astonished.
“You know my name, Sir?”
“Ah Yes I got it from my guard at the gate. I hope your boys are comfortable. I guess you are transiting through my battalion location.”
As Rajeev stepped in, he said, “Yes Sir, we will be staying for the night in your headquarter and will be off tomorrow morning. My company has been placed under your neighbouring battalion and I have a task to perform tomorrow”.
“Well Rajeev there is a hot meal waiting for you at the Officers’ Mess and then you can proceed to my tent where you can knock off for the night.”
“Thanks, Sir, but how about your dinner?”
“Not before midnight friend, since I’ve got to catch up with some work” I replied.
“Sir, there is no way that I will have dinner while you are slogging away in your office alone. I will sit up till midnight with you and we will dine together.”
Despite my best efforts to get Rajeev to break off for dinner and rest, he wouldn’t budge. He insisted that we have dinner together. So, while I was still working on my files, we got into a conversation.
“When did you pass out of the Academy, Rajeev?”
“On the 15 March this year, Sir, from OTA Madras”
“And where did you study?”
“St John’s High School Chandigarh, Sir and graduation from DAV Chandigarh”
“Well well, that’s a coincidence. I studied in St Johns School Meerut” I said.
Thereafter, the tone of our conversation changed from a ‘senior– junior’ level to a ‘school type’ level. The youngster looked more relaxed, now that he was in the company of another ‘Johnian’ though he was conscious that he was in conversation with an officer ten times his service. And that’s good breeding!
I was quite impressed with this young officer; just four months into commissioning but brimming with confidence and well up with events. The conversation went on and finally at around 1130 PM, I wound up my files and took Rajeev to the Field Officers Mess. I liked the way he conversed- expressed his views with subtle well-timed humour, which got us into splits of laughter. For me, it was a welcome change since, in the preceding few months the only other officer I was in conversation with, in the Battalion Headquarter, was my Commanding Officer — miles senior to me. The probability of ‘humour’ in that setting was few and far in between! Quick dinner and then we walked across to my tent where Rajeev’s bed was already prepared by my boys on a field camp cot. There was so much that we discussed – from hobbies to games (Rajeev was a national skating champion for seven years), to life in the infantry to the insurgency in Sri Lanka and more. Such an affable, well-mannered energetic young officer, full of life and mature much beyond his years.
“Chalo Rajeev you better knock off to sleep. When do you intend moving out?”
“Sir, I must leave by 5 AM since I have a fair amount of distance to traverse.”
“Fine, I will see you off.”
“No Sir, that’s not required, you don’t have to trouble yourself.”
“Rajeev, as a rule, no convoy moves out of this Headquarters until briefed by the Adjutant since we are in an operational area. So, my dear, I do not have much choice.”
“Well Sir, in that case, it will be an honour to be briefed and seen off by you,” said Rajeev and soon he was asleep.
Rajeev woke me up at 04.30 AM on that fateful morning and we quickly got ready, jumped into our combat dress and walked up to the gate together where his small team was waiting in two vehicles. He briefed his boys first and I did so thereafter, cautioning them to be fully alert since the LTTE cadres were quite active on the route that they were to traverse. At 5 AM sharp, the party was ready to move and the youngster gave me a smart salute and said,
“Thank you, Sir; looking forward to meeting you again!”
“Me too, Rajeev. Be careful and all the best!” I said as I shook his hand.
I liked this youngster. I fail to recall, but I think I prayed a silent prayer for his well being. Any move in that LTTE infested area was fraught with danger. I waited at the gate until the tail light of the rear vehicle faded out. Since I was dressed up for the day, I decided to go around the post to review the security arrangements and was back in my office after a quick breakfast.
Around 9 AM, I received a radio call which confirmed that the 7 ASSAM convoy had crossed my unit area of responsibility and was now transiting through the neighbouring battalion area. A little while later, I got yet another call from a radio operator who said,
“Saheb LTTE ne 7 ASSAM convoy par ambush kar diya.”
I was stunned, to say the least. I tried to get it off my mind that something had happened to Rajeev. My best efforts to get more details of the ambush from the nearby posts drew a blank – radio communications in those days weren’t the best and left much to be desired. I thereafter called up the Adjutant of the neighbouring battalion. He too, it appeared was busy and picked up my call after a long time. My worst fears were confirmed when he said,
“Yes Sir, there has been an ambush by the LTTE. The youngster from 7 ASSAM is no more. He put up a brave fight and succumbed to his injuries.”
Rajeev was gone. It was difficult for me to come to terms. This braveheart was with me just a while ago. I never imagined that it would be his final adieu. I was given a first-hand report of the action by that Adjutant. Rajeev succumbed but not before he put up a brilliant fight.
A few days after we lost Rajeev, I met a Havildar from 7 ASSAM who was one of the members of Rajeev’s team on that fateful day. In his limited spoken Hindi he narrated the essence of the ambush and firefight.
“Saheb hamare Rajeev sahib jab road par girre to unka donnon taang rocket fire ke karan udd gaya tha. Phir bhi apne Carbine se LTTE militant par fire kiya aur maar giraya. Magar sahib bhi dehant ho gaye”.
In his simple way, he narrated how Rajeev had put up a fierce fight despite the fact the rocket launcher had claimed both his legs. No histrionics, no theatrics but just a lucid description of a brave act.
In his death, this young hero with just 4 months of service left behind a legacy of courage, honour, extreme bravado and supreme sacrifice. 2/Lt Rajeev Sandhu was thus the youngest Indian Army officer to be honoured with a Maha Vir Chakra, posthumous.
