|
'This animal is very
bad; when attacked it defends itself.'
THE Soviet high command was acutely sensitive to the
activities of the Mujahideen in the eastern border provinces
of Kunar, Nangarhar and Paktia. Just across the frontier in
Pakistan were the Mujahideen's forward supply bases, training
facilities and scores of refugee camps. From this area the
great bulk of arms and ammunition poured into Afghanistan in
an endless stream of caravans, or pack trains of animals,
moving along the tracks and trails through the mountains. The
strategic importance to both sides of this border zone, from
Barikot in the north, to Urgun in the south, is illustrated on
Map 1.
A main road ran from Kabul to Peshawar, via Jalalabad, over
the Khyber Pass. For the Soviets Jalalabad was a key city. All
roads, tracks and valleys from the frontier converged on
Jalalabad. Here were the headquarters of the Afghan 11th
Division, the Soviet 66th MRR, a Spetsnaz battalion, plus the
1st Afghan Border Brigade. Half-way up the Kunar Valley to the
NE was another Afghan division, the 9th, at Asadabad, with a
second Spetsnaz battalion further up still at Asmar (Map 11).
At the Afghanistan end of the Khyber Pass was Torkham,
overlooked by a high, dominating feature occupied by the
Afghans, called Shamshadsar. In early 1984 I was awakened one
night with the news that Shamshadsar had fallen to the
Mujahideen and that the Soviet/Afghan counter-attack had
failed to dislodge them. Apparently the Afghans had given an
ultimatum to the local Pakistan border post that unless the
Mujahideen withdrew they would shell the nearby Pakistani
civilian population. This had caused considerable panic. The
Mujahideen had refused to budge unless so instructed by
General Akhtar, who was in Karachi. The governor of the NWFP
was furious and had complained to President Zia. The upshot
was I had to go, reluctantly, to get the Mujahideen to pull
back. Eventually I succeeded, but thereafter there was a
presidential ban on any Mujahideen offensives within 10
kilometres of Torkham, or of Chaman on the Khojak Pass in
Baluchistan.
The Soviets were equally touchy about the Parrot's Beak
peninsula which outflanked both Jalalabad to its north and
Khost to its south. The Mujahideen dumps concentrated in this
area were closer to Kabul than either of these two Afghan
towns. We dispatched nearly 40 per cent of our supplies for
the entire guerrilla war effort from this area around
Parachinar. The cork intended to stem the flow was the Afghan
garrison at Ali Khel, 12 kilometres from the border.
Of similar significance to Jalalabad, but south of Parrot's
Beak, was the town of Khost. Its garrison, from the Afghan
25th Division and 2nd Border Brigade, was responsible for
maintaining the small border posts facing Miram Shah in
Pakistan. Through Miram Shah ran another branch of our supply
pipeline, carrying a good 20 per cent of the Mujahideen's arms
requirements.
Soviet border strategy was based on maintaining a multitude
of posts, large and small, close to Pakistan. They were
intended to seal the border and interdict our supply routes.
It was rather like a person trying to shut off a large tap by
putting his hand over it. Throughout the war the majority of
these garrisons have been under at least partial siege, and
many times small posts have fallen to attack. These eastern
provinces have seen some of the fiercest fighting of the
campaign, with battles resembling conventional war being
fought in several instances. In fact, with hindsight, these
towns and posts probably diverted our efforts too much from
Kabul and other more suitable guerrilla targets. It was
tempting to try to take isolated garrisons adjacent to the
border. They were close to our main base with all the
advantages that gave; small successes were not difficult to
achieve and Commanders could be certain of recognition for
their victories. Plunder and publicity were the rewards of
some comparatively easy, low-risk triumphs.
In strictly military terms an isolated fort is only
beneficial if it ties down more enemy in besieging it than its
own garrison, or it threatens a supply line which necessitates
a strong enemy masking force to prevent forays. Judged by
these criteria perhaps the continuous and costly efforts of
the Soviets and Afghans to maintain these posts was
worthwhile. There is little doubt they tied down large numbers
of Mujahideen. Two examples of this were the garrisons at Ali
Khel and Khost, both of which were under continuous siege from
early in the war. At both these locations operations
alternated, with the Mujahideen concentrating up to 5,000
active fighters, cutting off supplies to the garrisons,
seizing outlying posts and threatening to capture the town,
followed by a major Soviet/Afghan thrust to break the
investment. These were usually successful, with the Mujahideen
melting back into the mountains along the border, only to
return again when the enemy columns withdrew. In 1983 it
looked for a while as if Khost would fall. At the end of
August, with the situation critical, the Kabul regime flew in
Colonel Shahnawaz Tani's 37th Commando Brigade by helicopter.
This forced us back after bitter fighting. By October the
commandos were back in Kabul and we were closing in again.
By 1985 the Mujahideen Leaders and senior Commanders were
determined that Khost should fall, and a major offensive was
mooted to this end. To take a strongly-held town such as Khost
was not really a task for a guerrilla force. It would require
the cooperation of at least two parties and their Commanders
to mobilize sufficient men. Even then, the militarily
desirable ratio of 3:1 in favor of the attacker could not be
achieved. Couple this with the Mujahideen's exposure to air
attack and the likely massive Soviet/Afghan response that
would be provoked, and the doubtful wisdom of such an assault
is apparent.
I called a conference in Peshawar to discuss the problems.
It was to be a combined effort between Khalis' and Gailani's
Parties, with Jalaluddin Haqqani, a renowned Khalis Commander,
playing a leading role from his forward base at Zhawar only 6
kilometres over the border opposite Miram Shah, and some 20
kilometres south of Khost. I found that Gailani was not ready,
while Khalis pressed me hard to give the go-ahead, and issue
the necessary heavy weapons and ammunition. Although I had
misgivings I had previously decided I would give this
operation my full support provided the Commanders would mount
a joint attack in accordance with a sound tactical plan. I had
resolved to go into Afghanistan myself to coordinate the
assault, and to send in several Pakistani teams of advisers
with various Commanders. On Map 14 I have shown the tactical
situation.
Khost was surrounded by mountains in which sat the
Mujahideen. All around were a series of defensive posts and
minefields, with a substantial garrison at Tani. The
Mujahideen were particularly strong to the south and SE of the
town, with their outposts overlooking the plain along the line
shown on the map. The only feature that they did not occupy,
as it was held by the enemy, was Torgarh. This mountain ridge
was about 9 kilometres from Khost, with its northern end
curling round to within 4 kilometres of the totally exposed
airfield. In fact this strip was seldom used by the Afghans as
we could bring it under fire so easily that they often
resorted to parachute dropping of supplies. Torgarh was what
the military term vital ground for any force wishing to defend
or attack Khost.
I explained to the assembled Commanders that phase one of
any assault on Khost must be the taking of Torgarh by night.
To my dismay they all wanted a daytime attack. For hours I
tried to convince them that this would be folly, with the
Mujahideen exposed to heavy fire from the air and artillery
long before they could reach Torgarh itself. The principal
Commander, Haqqani, would not budge. My attempts to enlist the
support of ax-Colonel Wardak, the military representative from
Gailani's Party, failed, as he was reluctant to oppose Haqqani
for political reasons. Haqqani argued that by day everybody
would do their best, nobody would hold back in front of his
comrades, while in a night attack nobody would cooperate and
everybody would blame each other for failure. He believed that
only by day could Commanders exercise control. He assured me
of success, and accepted full, personal responsibility for the
operation.
At the end of a day of fruitless discussions I said to
Haqqani, 'I am not prepared to be a party to a plan which I
know for certain will not only fail, but result in heavy
casualties.' I withdrew Pakistani adviser support, but later
relented and allowed two teams to go in.
The Torgarh attack was timed to start at 10.00 am (H-hour),
but the inevitable delays meant that it was midday before the
Mujahideen started moving forward. Regrettably, as I had
forecast, the attack was broken up by concentrated fire. The
Mujahideen suffered numerous unnecessary casualties. After
dark some progress was made up the slopes of Torgarh, but,
with the exception of taking a few bunkers, little could be
achieved. By midnight they had had enough and fell back,
carrying their dead and wounded with them.
After two weeks Haqqani came to me to apologize for
rejecting my advice. He admitted his error, and in the same
breath urged me to allocate him more weapons and ammunition.
He wanted to try again - by night. But by, then the Afghan
hold on Torgarh had been consolidated. I declined a second
attempt. Reinforcing failure has never been a sensible
military tactic.
My prediction that such a large-scale attack would provoke
a correspondingly strong retaliation was also proved correct.
On 20 August the enemy launched their second eastern offensive
of 1985, involving some 20,000 men. A series of pincer
movements (shown on Map 15) were aimed at flushing out the
Mujahideen from their strongholds west of the Parrot's Beak
around Azra, Ali Khel and Khost. From the latter their
intention was also to move south, up to the border, and
demolish the Zhawar base area. Considerable use was made of
heliborne encirclement, particularly around Azra. No less than
nine landing zones were used to position the cordon troops of
Soviet air assault units around guerrilla bases or villages.
It was a similar story around Ali Khel, with the attackers
able to secure several small arms caches and inflict losses on
the Mujahideen.
The thrust from Khost, through Tani, towards Zhawar was
also worrying. In fact any strong offensive from Ali Khel, or
towards Zhawar and Pakistan, always produced squeals of alarm
from both politicians and the military in Islamabad. If ever
the Soviets contemplated ground incursions into Pakistan these
were two obvious routes. Just inside Pakistan the huge Peiwar
Kotal mountain feature dominated, not only the approaches to
Afghanistan but, more importantly, the whole of the Kurram
Valley back through Parachinar and beyond. To lose these
heights would mean our border defenses had been pierced. I can
vouch for the fact that during these months of intense
activity and probing of the border the Pakistan Army in the
NWFP was on full alert, and indeed had deployed units forward
to prepared positions - just in case.
Although our siege of Khost was broken by the enemy
counter-attack, Zhawar did not fall. In fact the Afghans did
not make headway south beyond Tani due to some skilful and
courageous fighting by Mujahideen forces operating from the
Zhawar area. We were somewhat handicapped by the absence of
many Commanders, including Haqqani, who had left for the Haj
(pilgrimage to Mecca). His second-in-command was Shaheed in
these battles, and it was quite a close-run thing. The
Soviet/Afghan forces had shown that their tactics and
techniques were improving, they had been able to penetrate
into areas long held to be inaccessible, and had they been
able to close right up to the border and destroy our bases
there, the entire campaign might have been put in jeopardy. I
decided to ensure that any future attempt should also be
defeated.
Throughout mid-1985 I did much soul-searching as to whether
my overall strategy was working. Our efforts to keep the enemy
away from the border areas seemed to have failed, we had
suffered casualties, our attempt to seize Khost had been badly
flawed, and the Soviet high command had apparently gained the
initiative. I spent many hours in front of the map of
Afghanistan as I pondered and debated in my mind how best to
prosecute the war. My conclusions were that the Soviets had
not inflicted any serious defeat on the battlefield; in fact
the border engagements although intense, had been indecisive.
I believe the enemy had launched its offensives in order to
relieve pressure elsewhere in Afghanistan, particularly around
Kabul; that they were designed to disrupt and destroy our base
areas south and east of Ali Khel and Zhawar with this as their
primary aim. I felt that there was nothing wrong with our
basic strategy; in fact with our increasing efforts against
Kabul, and in the north across the Amu, I was certain we could
expect the Soviet/Afghan forces to lash out again at our
border strongholds. It would be a sign that we were succeeding
elsewhere. In this connection I made a controversial decision.
I decided that should any future offensive attempt to take
either the Ali Khel or Zhawar base areas they would be
defended, we would not withdraw into Pakistan, but attempt to
hold our own and fight a conventional defensive battle. This
was against the normal principles of guerrilla war. Some in my
staff felt I was making an error of judgement, that to hold
ground against superior forces who had complete air cover was
tactically unsound and would lead to defeat with heavy losses.
I understood the wisdom of what they said, but I was convinced
that other factors overrode their arguments. War is an art,
not a science.
First and foremost I felt that with up to 60 per cent of
our supplies passing through these two forward base areas we
just could not afford to lose them. They were essential
jump-off points for the entire campaign. If they were occupied
for any length of time by the enemy, with their forces close
up to the frontier, they would have effectively blocked our
major logistics artery feeding the war. These areas were vital
ground to us and merited determined defense.
The establishment of strongpoint along the border in these
areas would act as a trip-wire should the war escalate. In the
event of the Soviets moving on Pakistan these two routes would
certainly be used by ground troops. Mujahideen defensive
positions would delay the advance, cause casualties and gain
time for the Pakistan Army to complete its forward deployment
and rush up reinforcements.
It took us three months finally to decide to adopt these
measures, at the end of which time General Akhtar and
President Zia were both in favor. It was with the President's
approval that, in September/October, 1985, I visited the Ali
Khel and Zhawar areas to put in motion the necessary defensive
preparations to try to convert the bases into defensive
localities.
My first trip took me to Ali Khel, accompanied by the
members of the Military Committee of Hekmatyar's and Sayaf's
Parties, who had undertaken responsibility for the work in
that area. I wanted a close look at Ali Khel and the
surrounding enemy posts, so I took forward a reconnaissance
party to a ridge within 2 kilometres of the village. Later, we
pulled back to an observation post (OP) some 4 kilometres away
to watch a Mujahideen fire-power demonstration scheduled to
start at 4.00 pm. This would give insufficient time for
gunships to scramble from Kabul or Jalalabad and get overhead
before last light. I was suitably impressed. Over 1,000 rounds
from 107mm rocket launchers, 82mm mortars, and recoilless
rifles were rained down on Ali Khel and associated defenses during a two-hour period. The response was unimpressive, as
the enemy artillery counter-battery fire was wide of all our
firing points, with the closest shell to my position, from
which we were adjusting the fire, falling 500 meters away.
That night, back in a bunker at Sayaf's base, I was touched
by two brief but revealing examples of Mujahideen hospitality
in the field. Several local Commanders dismissed my escort of
three Pakistani soldiers and themselves took turn at sentry
duty outside my bunker. Rather thoughtlessly, I had asked one
of my soldiers to get me a bucket of hot water in the morning.
There was no bucket in the entire base. They only had a
plastic jerrycan, which they filled laboriously by
continuously heating water in a kettle over an open fire. I
felt most ashamed in the morning when I realized that I was
the only person among several hundred to wash in hot water.
We spent a second day on reconnaissance from a forward OP.
Again we arranged for an MBRL bombardment of the Ali Khel
positions. It was followed by a pause of about 30 minutes to
deceive the enemy into thinking we had finished. As soon as
movement was spotted we opened up again, continuing until
nightfall. Back at the base I met Professor Sayaf and some of
his Commanders from Kabul. He was keen that his Party alone
should be responsible for the defence, and I had great
difficulty persuading him otherwise.
The next day was spent in touring the base area and
discussing with the Commanders how best to prepare to
withstand an assault. Areas for minefields were defined; AA
guns, machine guns, recoilless rifles and mortars were sited
to cover likely approaches; possible helicopter landing zones
(LZs) were identified for mining and heavy weapons designated
to cover them by fire.
I stressed the urgent need for communication trenches and
for all weapon pits or bunkers to have overhead protection.
There was a great deal to do and I could only hope that the
Commanders would galvanize their men into action. I gave them
two months to complete the tasks, with the promise of extra
heavy weapons as an incentive.
I suppose I had expected too much. My officers spent
considerable time giving guidance and checking progress, but
at the end of two months the Parties asked for more time.
Again I went into Afghanistan to see for myself. It was
disappointing. Even taking into account the Mujahideen's
antipathy towards digging and reluctance to defend static
positions, I was inwardly exasperated by what I saw. Trenches
had not been dug, gun positions were exposed without proper
camouflage, tents were conspicuously pitched close to forward
positions and overhead protection was lacking everywhere. In
contrast with the forward positions, great efforts had been
made to construct a series of tunnels to house the
headquarters and administrative facilities. I was forced to
release some heavy weapons, but on the understanding that
considerable improvement must be made to all defences before
the balance was allocated.
The situation at Zhawar was identical. The Mujahideen
worked enthusiastically at tunnel-building, using bulldozers
and explosives to produce seven tunnels dug into the side of a
wide, dried-up nullah. They included shelter for a mosque,
garage, armorers' shop, small medical aid post, radio
station, kitchen, guest house and stores. A generator provided
power for the aid post, mosque and guests' tunnel. It was even
possible to watch video films at the base. This work always
had priority over the tactical defenses facing the enemy. The
Parties and Commanders were eager to have an impressive
'showpiece' for visiting journalists. The fact that the
previous attempt to reach Zhawar in September had petered out
gave them a false sense of security.
Map 16 shows the approximate defensive deployment for the
battle of Zhawar, which took place in April, 1986. Zhawar was
a substantial administrative base. From there operations
against Khost were planned and conducted; it was a Mujahideen
centre for training recruits on both small arms and heavy
weapons; it was the focal point of what was regarded as a
liberated area, where a sort of mini-government had been set
up, courts were held and delegations and journalists were
received. The principal Commander was the tall, blackbearded,
50-year-old Haqqani from Khalis' Party, although Hekmatyar,
Nabi and Gailani also had Commanders in the vicinity. Haqqani
had some forty to fifty subordinates under his direction, with
probably 10,000 Mujahideen spread over the border district
between Ali Khel and Zhawar. I have shown the line of the
forward defenses at Zhawar as following the foothills of the
mountains up to 10 kilometres from the frontier, although
smaller outlying groups were located on the Khost plain.
The AA defenses were dependent on three Oerlikon guns, the
12.7mm and 14.5mm machine guns, and shoulder-fired SA-7s,
which were often sited up to 7 kilometres forward of Zhawar
itself. Likely ground approaches for armour or infantry were
protected by anti-tank minefields, mortars, recoilless rifles
and RPGs. Some positions were connected by field telephone or
walkie-talkie radios. While, in theory, the tactical handling
of the defense was Haqqani's responsibility, in practice
individual Commanders would fight their own battles, with
Haqqani devoting his efforts to coordinating logistic support.
The weapon positions shown on the map are not completely
accurate but are indicative of the layout and type used.
In Zhawar base itself, in and around the tunnels, about 400
men were deployed for its close protection, or to work on
administrative support. Here also was Haqqani's headquarters.
These Mujahideen lived in or near the tunnels, while those in
the forward positions lived, ate and slept at their posts.
Food was often prepared centrally, operations permitting, or
even cooked in Pakistan and carried forward to the Commanders.
Once fighting started everybody survived on what he carried.
Although the Soviets masterminded the attack on Zhawar,
they only deployed one Soviet air assault regiment from the
103rd GAAD at Darulaman, the remainder of the 12,000 men
assembled for the advance being Afghans. Tactical control was
to be exercised by the staff of Major-General Shahnawaz Tani,
who four years later, as Defense Minister, was to launch a
coup attempt against the Kabul regime, and then flee to join
the Mujahideen. The Afghan Army commander on the spot was
Tani's deputy, a talented officer of Baluchi origins,
Brigadier Abdol Gafur.
The Soviet/Afghan objective was to smash the guerrilla base
infrastructure around Zhawar, occupy the area and seal off
this important Mujahideen supply route (see Map 17). It was an
ambitious undertaking. The operation was certain to involve
tough fighting, with the Mujahideen able to call in
reinforcements quickly from Pakistan. There was no way that
the Khost garrison of the 25th Division and 2nd Border Brigade
could undertake a mission of this size. Khost would provide a
convenient jump-off point, but the bulk of the troops would
have come from elsewhere. Showing a remarkable display of
staff work, Gafur used the month of March to assemble his task
force. Units from the 7th and 8th Divisions in Kabul, the 12th
at Gardez and 14th at Ghazni were concentrated at Khost. Three
battalions (1,500 men) of the 37th Commando Brigade and the
Soviet AAR (2,200 men) were flown in to spearhead the
offensive into the mountains. The entire operation would have
the usual air umbrella, artillery and rocket support, together
with scores of transport and gunship helicopters. That the
Afghan Army was able to put together such an operation was
striking evidence of how it had regained much of its military
competence. Such an undertaking would have been unthinkable
three years earlier.
As the winter weather abated in the first week of April the
advance began, under cover of air-strikes and gunfire, led by
Soviet and Afghan commandos in helicopters. Immediately, the
ground columns came under fire from pockets of Mujahideen
south of Khost and around Tani, which slowed progress to a
crawl. South of Tani the operation bogged down for several
days as the leading elements of the enemy came up against
stiffer resistance from the mountains north of Zhawar, and
groups of Mujahideen fired hundreds of 107mm rockets into
Khost airfield to disrupt helicopter sorties. The second phase
from Tani to Zhawar was going to require rethinking and
reorganizing, so Gafur paused until 11 April.
His final plan envisaged the bold use of heliborne
commandos to seize dominating ground in a coup-de-main
operation close to Zhawar base, the extensive use of airpower
to smash the Mujahideen positions, and the use of ground
forces to link up with the commandos, and mop up what was
left.
For ten days Gafur struggled to get from Tani to Zhawar,
ten days of heavy fighting in which the Mujahideen resistance
took a severe pounding, but during which they proved they
could hold their ground even in adverse circumstances. Their
outstanding triumph of this battle was the complete
destruction of a battalion from 37 Commando Brigade, which was
a part of Gafur's plan to land troops behind the Mujahideen
positions. In this instance they miscalculated badly in
selecting as a landing zone (LZ) a flat, open plateau close to
the base, but within range of higher ground held by some of
Haqqani's and Hekmatyar's men. In broad daylight ten or more
helicopters came in in waves to set down the 400 commandos. As
they flew overhead they were met by a barrage of fire from
SA-7s and heavy machine guns. Three helicopters crashed, while
the others disgorged their troops under intense cross-fire
from both Mujahideen positions. In the open ground the
commandos were badly cut up and demoralized. By nightfall
there was nothing left of this battalion: all were either
killed or captured. Had we had the Stinger missile I doubt if
any helicopter could have escaped.
From 11 to 22 April Zhawar was isolated from the rest of
the area by artillery and air strikes. Pakistani air space was
violated countless times as enemy aircraft wheeled overhead
before diving down on their targets. Some used laser-guided
bombs for pinpoint accuracy in taking out the Zhawar tunnels.
A direct hit on one tunnel caused it to collapse, crushing
many of its occupants, including Haqqani who was injured, but
survived. Back at Rawalpindi I received frantic calls from the
Parties to do something to alleviate the rain of rockets and
bombs from the air. In desperation I briefed General Akhtar
that I proposed asking for Pakistani volunteers from my staff
to take in some more Blowpipe missiles. My logistics colonel,
who had been in the anti-aircraft artillery, offered his
services. He was to be accompanied by several others,
including a young captain. General Akhtar agreed, so the team
was rushed to the frontier. Within 24 hours they were in
Zhawar.
Early in the morning the Blowpipe party climbed up a
prominent peak nearby to set themselves up for the day's
shooting. It was to turn out to be a duck shoot in which the
ducks won. From their hide on the hill they had a magnificent
view of the enemy aircraft as they banked, turned, dived and
pulled up again, in their efforts to strafe our defences. The
first Blowpipe missile roared majestically upwards but wide of
its mark. From then on the firing point had been identified.
Within a few minutes the colonel had been slightly wounded and
several Mujahideen hit, but the captain kept the Blowpipe
firing. In all thirteen missiles were fired before a direct
hit severely wounded the captain and his JCO assistant, and
killed several men nearby. Not a single missile had hit an
aircraft. For me it was the final proof that this weapon
system was useless on the battlefield. We had said so from the
outset, and now it had failed us at a critical juncture of a
desperate battle. A British artillery officer who saw the
Blowpipe in action in the Falklands excused its poor
performance by saying that at least it frightened pilots into
veering off and leaving the firer alone. This was not our
experience, and anyway we needed to knock them down, not
frighten them.
Our team was evacuated under the directions of my colonel,
back to a military hospital in Pakistan. Weeks after the
incident I asked the captain why he had not tried changing his
firing point once it had been located by the enemy. It was the
obvious thing to do as both he and I knew. His reply was
interesting. He had felt that to move would have damaged his
reputation for courage in the eyes of the Mujahideen around
him. They showed no inclination to move, they intended to
stand their ground under fire, and the young officer felt that
the honour of the Pakistan Army was at stake, so he stayed
until hit. He was later decorated by the President.
With Haqqani out of the fight, there was even less
coordination of the defenses, and I was alarmed at the series
of conflicting and worrying reports that came in daily. I
urged General Akhtar to let me go forward, but he refused.
Meanwhile I arranged for all the military representatives of
the Parties to go personally to Zhawar to organize operations
aimed at the enemy's rear areas and Khost airfield. The
ferocity of the fighting may be judged by the fact that the
barrels of many of our AA guns had been worn out, and there
were instances of hand-to-hand combat.
Again I pleaded with General Akhtar to let me at least go
up to the border, as I felt my presence close to the fighting
would be a steadying influence, and that from there I could
coordinate things. After all, the enemy were now within 3
kilometres of Pakistan, and for all we knew might come across
the frontier. On my assurance that I would not venture into
Afghanistan, he let me go. The day I reached Miram Shah Zhawar
fell. Soviet and Afghan commandos secured the tunnels and set
about completing the destruction of the base. The Mujahideen
had eventually been forced back in some of the toughest
fighting of the war in which they had used every weapon in
their armoury, including several captured tanks.
At Miram Shah I met Hekmatyar and Khalis who had gone to
the border for the same purpose as myself. The news was bad,
but large numbers of Mujahideen were still in the area, and
not all the bases had been lost. Hekmatyar agreed to lead in
reinforcements that night to secure his base. To try to find
out the exact situation I went to a suitable vantage point
from which I could observe enemy movement around Zhawar. I
gazed long and hard through my binoculars, but saw nothing.
There was no enemy in Zhawar. I hurried back and spoke to
Haqqani, who was recovering well, telling him that Zhawar
appeared unoccupied. He ordered a Commander to take in a
patrol that night.
During the night I watched an impressive 107mm rocket
barrage by Hekmatyar's men on to suspected enemy rear areas.
Others joined in, confirming that the Mujahideen were far from
defeated. The next day it was confirmed that the enemy had
withdrawn. Within 48 hours Zhawar was back in our hands.
The Kabul regime celebrated a major victory. According to
radio broadcasts hundreds of Mujahideen bunkers and
fortifications had been destroyed; thousands of weapons and
mines captured, and millions of rounds of ammunition secured.
According to their account we lost 2,000 dead and 4,000
wounded. To say that this propaganda stretched the truth would
be a serious understatement. Mujahideen losses at Zhawar did
not exceed 300 killed, together with a few truck-loads of arms
and ammunition. Although Zhawar base fell, other nearby strongpoint
did not, and within a few hours the enemy pulled
back to Khost, making no attempt to hold the ground they had
won. We had shot down thirteen helicopters and aircraft,
captured over 100 Afghan soldiers and killed or wounded about
1,500.
Our decision to fight a conventional defensive battle at
Zhawar came under great criticism. We were accused of
violating the principles of guerrilla war. As I have explained
earlier, we had valid reasons for developing Zhawar and Ali
Khel into strong points, and holding them if attacked. Our
conduct of the war was dependent on these operational and
logistic jump-off points After the Zhawar battle we rebuilt
the base and continued to use it throughout the rest of the
campaign. It was Zhawar that so impressed Mr Wilson when I
took him there about a year later. As far as I know it
continues to function as an essential part of the Mujahideen's
military strategy.
By all this I do not mean that we had not been dealt a
severe tactical blow. We had, but it was not as serious as was
made out at the time. I have no doubt that the Mujahideen
would have repulsed all the assaults, with fewer losses, had
two matters been resolved beforehand. First, if the Commanders
had properly constructed their defenses, ensured overhead
cover and dug in with enthusiasm in the preceding weeks, the
Mujahideen would not have received such a bloody nose. Second,
and more importantly, if the US and Pakistan had not
procrastinated for so many years over supplying us with an
effective anti-aircraft weapon, we would assuredly have beaten
off the attack with comparative ease. The Mujahideen, properly
dug in at Zhawar with the Stinger, would have been unbeatable.
Of that I have no doubt. |