Free Four Miles to Freedom by Faith Johnston Page B

sorry to lose Usman Hamid and they never liked his replacement, Squadron Leader Wahid-ud-din. Wahid-ud-din was a tall, boisterous fellow with rough manners—‘an I specialist’, they called him because he was inclined to be boastful. When they learned he was a grounded pilot they had even less respect for him. One day, soon after the three came back from hospital, Wahid dropped in, and in the course of conversation referred to ‘East Pakistan’, which was now Bangladesh.
    â€˜Is the man talking in the past tense?’ quipped Jafa, looking around at his colleagues.
    Wahid was apoplectic with rage and threatened to put Jafa on charge. This incident was another strike against him, as far as the POWs were concerned, and there were more to come. When Wahid later told the prisoners that he was bringing members of his family to visit them, they were not pleased. ‘We were being treated as a curiosity,’ says Dilip. ‘We felt like monkeys in a cage.’
    They had had a few visits from PAF officers before this, including the commander of the Chaklala base. You could call them duty visits. Most of the PAF officers knew they could have been in the same boat themselves and might have appreciated having a few visitors to cheer them up.
    â€˜We may be enemies in the air,’ one chap said, ‘but we can be friends on the ground. If you ever need anything, let me know.’ These turned out to be empty words, since the Indian POWs never saw the Pakistani officer again.
    There was almost always a certain awkwardness in these visits, even from men of goodwill, for Pakistan had lost badly in the war and the superiority of the IAF had been an important factor. If the talk turned to history, that could be a minefield, too. The 1947 Partition of India had been a horror—they might all agree to that. If they went any further and tried to discuss the reasons for Partition or the responsibility for its results, they were soon mired in disagreements.
    Jafa, Tejwant Singh and Bhargava enjoyed visits from Pakistani pilots they had trained with overseas. Singh and Bhargava had trained on the Sabre in the States, and Jafa had been to Staff College in the UK. No awkward conversations during these visits, just jokes and reminiscences about old times. The other POWs were there, too, in Cell 5, witnessing the fun. Jafa’s friend came with his wife, who remarked that prisoner morale seemed high despite the difficult conditions. ‘And Jafa,’ she said,’ I can see you haven’t lost your charm.’
    The pilot who had trained with Singh and Bhargava in the States came alone, but at the end of the visit he surprised everyone by announcing that his wife was waiting in a car outside. ‘Since you are my brothers,’ he told his two friends, ‘please do me the honour of coming to meet her.’ The corporal on duty agreed to the request and accompanied the two prisoners outside the gate. Everyone was aware that the PAF pilot, a strict Muslim, had done something exceptional to express his friendship.
    At some point in March or April the new Air Chief, Zafar Chaudhry, paid a visit accompanied by his ADC, Squadron Leader Usman Hamid. It was an informal early morning affair with the two men visiting senior officers in their cells, but hurried as the visit was, those who received Chaudhry remember him as being genuinely concerned about their welfare.
    The visit of Wahid’s family, which the prisoners had dreaded, turned out to be one of the most memorable visits of all. It may have been in May or June. The weather had already warmed up. At teatime Wahid drove into the courtyard with his whole family in the car. From Cell 5, where the prisoners had assembled as usual, they saw two women and several children step out of the car. The door to the cell was unlocked and the visitors filed in. Wahid introduced the ladies as ‘my wife and my sister-in-law’. The women were not veiled