4157B
The Chief of Army Staff, Pasad, was thinking further ahead. He believed Pakistan would not use nuclear weapons, though not for the reason Singh claimed; that they were under Indian surveillance was a lie. The only real reason was that India had more of them. From a pragmatic standpoint, since war was now inevitable, the most pressing concern was the defence of the disputed Assam region on the Chinese border. He considered this a far more real threat than Pakistan's nuclear arsenal.
"So, ground fighting will follow as well then, Defence Minister?"
"If, within the deadline we set, Pakistan fails to hand over every participant in the terrorist attack, fails to disband every organisation behind it, and fails to dismantle the fortified positions along the Line of Control."
Singh's answer was an implicit yes. Since India had already determined that Pakistan's intelligence apparatus was the mastermind, the logic led inexorably to a large-scale ground offensive. The so-called deadline was merely a window for the air force to soften Pakistani strength first.
"One further question. Have you given adequate thought to the military threat from the northeast?" The Chief of Army Staff directed his question at Singh, but his eyes were on Prime Minister Kahan. This was the issue he intended to use to test the core of Singh's plan.
"I expect there will be some redeployment. Aircraft and missile units will be reinforced." Singh was evasive. Under his scheme, eastern forces would certainly be drawn upon. He had grown so reckless as to forget the limits of his authority, overriding the professional work of the Army Staff entirely. But he was in favour, and Pasad did not want to antagonise him; he simply needed to set a boundary before Singh gambled away too much, like a novice at a card table.
"As Chief of Army Staff, I can only say that any weakening of ground forces in Assam and Uttar Pradesh is unacceptable."
"At a minimum, the 21st Mountain Division1 must be transferred to the Kashmir theatre to reinforce the defences there," Singh said vaguely. As expected, he already had a detailed plan in his head, down to brigade-level movements; he had evidently forgotten that when he retired from the army he held the rank of colonel commanding a regiment.
"At a minimum?" Pasad was trying to tighten the bag.
"Perhaps also the 57th Infantry Division from III Corps."2 Singh was growing impatient, feeling as though he were being interrogated by a subordinate.
The 57th was an understrength division. This was the limit of what Pasad could accept. He knew the meeting's purpose was to launch a war, and the Prime Minister would not tolerate extended debate on command issues. But he needed Kahan to understand that things were not as simple as they imagined.
"Prime Minister, as Chief of Army Staff, I oppose drawing excessive forces from Eastern Command for a war in the west. It is my responsibility to remind you: China is the greater threat. This has always been my position."
"In Assam we have a ten-to-one advantage. What more do you want?" Singh said dismissively.
"I cannot accept that. My staff and I will immediately begin drafting a new plan for operations against Pakistan. But we will not weaken the eastern front. That is the sole precondition."
"I believe that to win a war, we must concentrate our full strength on the main axis of advance." Singh's impatience was rising. He raised his voice at the man who was once his commanding officer, sounding as though he had studied a little Clausewitz. It was an awkward moment. Kahan sat to one side looking displeased. He glanced at Director Chaman, his most trusted intelligence chief, hoping Chaman could persuade Pasad. He knew that convincing a career soldier would not be accomplished by Singh, who was merely a civilian in the government hierarchy and had never actually commanded anything larger than a regiment. Professional officers would not necessarily take him seriously.
Director Chaman closed his notebook, rose slowly from his corner. He was tall and thin, with a slight stoop. Standing still, he resembled a drowsy cobra.
"Prime Minister, based on our intelligence work, I would like to add a few observations."
"Please." Kahan nodded. Chaman signalled for the lights to be dimmed and began a projection. The first slide was a map of the northern border.
Why were there prepared visual materials? The attendees were puzzled, then gradually realised that before this meeting, ostensibly convened to bring everyone onto a war footing, Kahan's inner circle had apparently conducted a rehearsal. To Pasad, it was blindingly obvious.
Chaman walked slowly to the map, one hand on his hip, as though struggling to recall something, and began.
"Please observe this region where our country borders Tibet, the very area General Pasad fears China might attack while our forces are engaged in the west." He pointed at the 1:10,000 map.
"This region has only two seasons: deep freeze and monsoon. No army can fight during either. Between them there is only a very brief operational window: roughly late September to the end of October. I do not mean that period is sunny and pleasant; merely that the rain eases slightly. General Pasad served with III Corps and will know that even divisional-level staff maps in that sector must be frequently redrawn, because most rivers have no permanent channels. Riverbeds shift constantly. Roads are obliterated by unending mudslides. For an attacking force, logistics would be a disaster. That is why the Border Roads Organisation3 established in Nehru's time still exists in the region."
Pasad nodded. Chaman's reasoning seemed sound enough.
"Indian soldiers are forever talking about 1962, still trapped in the fear of that war. So let me talk about 1962. That offensive was launched precisely in September and October. Before the November snows sealed the passes, the Chinese withdrew. Not because they magnanimously chose to retreat, as their propaganda claims. They are not that generous. Nor because Zhou Enlai suddenly remembered his friendship with Prime Minister Nehru. They simply ran out of supplies. By the time they crossed the Namka Chu river4 they had already consumed over half their materiel, and the date when heavy snow would finally sever their supply lines was fast approaching. That is the real reason they did not push into the chaos of the Siliguri Corridor.5 The 1962 offensive was prepared in secret for twenty months. The fighting ended in a matter of weeks." Chaman put his hands in his pockets and paused.
"The fundamental situation has not changed. If they want to attack, it will not be now. It can only be in half a year's time, and it will be very brief; they must finish before the approximate date of this year's first heavy snowfall seals the mountains."
"That was half a century ago, Director. Now they have a highway and a railway,"6 Pasad said.
"Correct. They have one railway. According to our intelligence, its capacity is extremely limited: roughly 150 tonnes of supplies per day to Lhasa. Of that, no more than a tenth, perhaps fifteen tonnes, can reach the vicinity of the Line of Control. Barely enough to sustain a single division's daily requirements. And we have ten divisions in the region."
Pasad said nothing. Chaman was harder to argue with than Singh, because he was not an armchair strategist.
"My intelligence comes from more than one source. We even know about their operational plan. The Chinese General Staff has a plan designated 4157B."
The room went deathly quiet. No one present, including Pasad, had ever heard the designation before.
"It was drawn up in the 1960s. We know only that it is an offensive plan; the details remain unclear. But we know its governing principle: it is to be executed when the Indian Army is mired in Pakistan and cannot extricate itself." Chaman spoke without expression, his pace as unhurried as ever.
"Gentlemen, look at this plan. Its authors were more cautious than anyone in this room. The facts are clear enough: so long as our army disengages from Pakistan before October, what the Chief of Army Staff fears most will not come to pass."
"Very good. Our offensive against Pakistan will be concluded in victory by July or August. Then we turn around and reinforce the east." Singh seized the floor back.
Pasad offered no further objection. He knew Chaman's intelligence was factually sound. Even if Plan 4157B were a fabrication, one could not deny the plan's inherent rationality; any competent staff officer would draft something similar. Were he serving in the Chinese Army, he would have done the same. Things now appeared simpler. India would commit fully to the war against Pakistan, and Kahan, Singh, and Chaman guaranteed the war would end before October; at least the ground campaign would not drag on.
1. 21st Mountain Division (第21山地师): An Indian Army mountain division based in the northeast, part of the forces tasked with defending the Sino-Indian border. Singh's demand to redeploy it westward to Kashmir illustrates the central strategic dilemma: every division moved west weakens the east. ↩
2. III Corps / 57th Infantry Division (第三集团军 / 57步兵师): III Corps (Rangiya, Assam) is responsible for the eastern Sino-Indian frontier. The 57th is described as understrength, making it the least costly unit to move. Pasad's willingness to concede this division but no more is the novel's clearest articulation of his negotiating strategy. ↩
3. Border Roads Organisation (边境修路组织): The BRO, established in 1960, is responsible for constructing and maintaining roads and infrastructure in India's border regions, particularly in the Himalayan theatre. Its continued existence in the region underscores the extreme difficulty of maintaining ground communications along the Sino-Indian frontier. ↩
4. Namka Chu (克节朗河): A river in the Tawang sector of Arunachal Pradesh, site of the opening engagement of the 1962 Sino-Indian War. The Chinese 7th Infantry Division crossed the Namka Chu on 20 October 1962, overwhelming the Indian 7th Infantry Brigade. Chaman's claim that the PLA had consumed over half its supplies by this point is plausible given the extreme logistical constraints of the theatre. ↩
5. Siliguri Corridor (西古里地区): The narrow strip of Indian territory connecting the northeast to the rest of the country, sometimes called the "Chicken's Neck." It is less than 20 km wide at its narrowest point. A Chinese advance into this area in 1962 would have severed India's northeastern states entirely. The decision not to do so remains one of the most debated questions in the war's historiography. ↩
6. The railway: The Qinghai-Tibet Railway, completed in 2006, connecting Xining to Lhasa. Chaman's figure of 150 tonnes per day to Lhasa may be an underestimate; the railway's designed capacity is substantially higher. However, his broader point about onward transport from Lhasa to forward positions near the LAC is well-taken; the last-mile logistics in the Himalayan theatre remain a severe constraint regardless of rail capacity. ↩