Kargil conflict and our ‘millennial’ DSSC course in Wellington

Our course was commissioned into our respective services in June/July 1986, and after a year of young officers’ courses, we were ready to be assigned to our first jobs in units in mid-1987. This was when the India-Sri Lanka peace accord was signed, and the Indian Armed Forces launched Operation Pawan in 1990, which became India’s longest Peace Support Operation (PSO). Consequently, it was no surprise that many of our contemporaries – plus or minus two years of seniority – were in the forefront, deployed in many units that played an active part in that operation. Thus, for many, Op Pawan defined their baptism into the armed forces and their brush with combat. Pawan was ‘our war’ in a proprietorial sense of belonging, with all its good and ‘not so good’ features. A decade later, India saw conflict in the icy Himalayan heights of the Kargil region, a war that has become famous and, unlike Op Pawan, occupies considerable space in Indian minds. At this point in time, in the summer of 1999, my coursemates/contemporaries were young officers holding the ranks of Majors/equivalent, and many of them were again involved, either in the battles or deployed proactively on the frontlines on land, sea, and air, or in planning at different echelons. Some of us, though, found ourselves nominated for the 55th Defence Services Staff College (DSSC) course in Wellington, near Ooty. Popularly called the Staff Course or Staff College course, this nearly yearlong course in the salubrious climes of the Nilgiris is meant to train select officers of all three services, along with a few civilian officers from Central Services and officers from foreign nations’ Armed Forces, for Command and Staff responsibilities in higher ranks. It is considered a prestigious course both from career mobility and professional upskilling perspectives. Obviously, therefore, the curriculum includes much education and cogitation on many aspects of war, security, strategy, jointness, and operations, along with a sprinkling of subjects such as area studies, international relations, geopolitics, technology, and such like. In addition, the course is also highly valued for its active social life, sports, recreation, and opportunities to network and meet a wide range of contemporaries and seniors. All in all, the course is much looked forward to by those selected, for affording a much-needed break from the busy Service life. It also marks a transition, in some senses, from being junior to moving into middle management. However, in our case, the Kargil conflict began just as we were preparing to depart for Wellington. There were rumours swirling of the course being delayed, curtailed, or even cancelled. Fortunately, that was not to be, and we landed in Wellington in early June 1999, in the overhang of our country being at war. The atmosphere was somewhat sombre in the initial days as we kept watching on television and received news through the fauji circuits about the ebb and flow of the conflict. Gradually, as the tide turned and as our forces triumphed, in no small measure due to the outstanding courage of young officers and frontline soldiers, the mood in Wellington too changed. In the first few weeks, there were rumours about some officers among faculty and students being recalled to the frontlines for their special skills or attributes, and, if my recollection serves right, some of them actually did and undertook important missions. Overall, the atmosphere from June till end July was one of excitement, anticipation, apprehension, and anger against a perfidious neighbour. While there was no doubt amongst all that given our overall strengths we would ultimately prevail, there was still a sense of urgency and a business-like atmosphere till the conflict came to a close on 26 July. While Kargil affected the country and Armed Forces in many ways, it also affected us in Wellington. Unlike 1971, which all of us had only heard about, the Kargil conflict had a sense of immediacy and intimacy. It cut to the bone; the fighting and operations were raw and real, and the people involved were those we knew or knew of - they were friends, seniors, and subordinates. Those who died or were injured were acquaintances, associates, and fellow warriors, and we felt for them and about them. And we savoured the victory that followed. [caption id=“attachment_12917852” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Defence Services Staff College in Wellington. Image courtesy DSSC[/caption] In these circumstances, it was but natural that the discussions and much of the formal and informal education sessions in DSSC were profoundly impacted by Kargil. While we were far removed from the theatre of war, Wellington provided the perfect place to analyse the conflict in all its dimensions - strategic, operational, tactical, and miscellaneous. With 500 plus officers - faculty plus students - having a wide range of specialist knowledge and experience, DSSC 55 became a sort of unofficial and informal Kargil review committee. Thus, it was no wonder that all our exercises, sand model discussions, war games, and scenario-building tasks had a Kargil kind of situation in the mix. Phrases such as Low Intensity Conflict Operations (LICO) and Low Intensity Maritime Operations (LIMO) entered our lexicon, even though they had been around for a while, and people argued that there was nothing ‘less intense’ about Kargil kind of wars. Thus, for us at Wellington, topics such as intelligence failure, high altitude warfare, logistics backup, terrorism, irregular war, incursion, intrusion, ‘fighting with one hand tied to the back’, and such became subjects of animated conversations. Drass, Batalik, Tiger Hill, Tololing, and other features got added to the regular vocabulary. In October of that year, some of us, as part of the Forward Area Tour (FAT), visited Kashmir and Ladakh and came to be much more educated not just about the internal security aspects but also the recently concluded conflict. It seemed then that every peak, pass, valley, and forest was still whispering the story of Kargil. To add further to the already stirring pot, a couple of months later, in Oct 99, Pakistan witnessed a coup and a military government in power with Gen Musharraf, the architect of Kargil, as the new ruler. Some weeks later, in end December 1999, Indian Airlines flight IC 814 was hijacked with the outcome well known. For those studying war and security issues, the signs were clear and ominous. A couple of years later, when attacks on our Parliament, in Kaluchak in Jammu and Kashmir, and on 9/11 in the US happened, many of us felt, retrospectively, that it was the continuation of what began in Kargil. Our strategic landscape had irrevocably altered as ‘Af-Pak’ became the global epicentre of terrorism. Events since then, especially the 26/11 attacks on Mumbai and the recent ones in Pathankot and Pulwama, prove that little has changed in that regard. And those at Galwan with another troublesome neighbour prove what the experts have always maintained; that irregular or hybrid wars, or whatever name one may assign them, have always been part of the warfighting apparatus of a state. To go back to Wellington, while none of us could exactly foresee the events of the following years, we were able to analyse international, national, and regional events through the prism of a just-concluded operation that saw all three services deployed for its early and favourable resolution. The fact that we had a live situation and heard raw experiences changed the course of teaching and discussion, and we were much the better at it. Many of our dissertations, service papers, research projects, and guest lectures invariably dealt with one or another aspect of the Kargil conflict. Our course was called the ‘Millennial’ course because we ushered in Y2K, in the year 2000. This was at a time when computers were transforming our lives, Indians were becoming globally renowned for IT skills, and India was on the cusp of an IT revolution. It was the digital age, and it was dinned into us that we would be the flag bearers of ushering the same in the Armed Forces as we moved into our future appointments. We believed that the third millennium was not merely a change of date or turning the leaf of a calendar; it was about a whole new world, a new idea, and a new way of living. The annual DSSC Seminar, a high-profile event that features several eminent experts, that year was on Cyber Security, Network Centric Operations, Space Operations, and IT. And one of the College research projects done by a syndicate of almost 30 officers was on IT and its impact on the military. I had the privilege of being involved in both. And yet, on the other hand, Kargil provided us with the reality check that victory would always be measured on foot or with boots on the ground. Two related points also bear mention. Given my lifelong interest in mass media and public culture, I chose to study the relationship between the Military and Media for my MSc thesis. The Kargil conflict was possibly the first one in India done under the glare of 24x7 media, especially Television. It was the ‘first televised war,’ as many remarked. The role of mass media in shaping perceptions and waging psychological war was much discussed at that time. Thus, it made sense for me to do a case study of the media coverage of the Kargil conflict as part of my thesis. It was a most useful and educative endeavour, and arguably, the first one ever done. Another salutary outcome of this was that my study of the dynamics of the military-media interface has further deepened over the years. The Kargil War also heralded the era of public funerals and send-offs of those killed in action. Given the high emotional involvement of people with the campaign, the funerals were poignant televised events with public grief on display. Political and administrative echelons from national to local levels became coopted in this activity, with media giving extensive coverage to the events. Over the last few years, opinions have been divided on this phenomenon. Many hold that this activity, even if in tragic circumstances, is a necessary display of remembrance and recognition of the military heroes and an overdue self-correction of a society obsessed with celebrities, cricket players, and film stars. Some aver that this has, over the years, come to become mere symbolism, and there is no follow-up with the bereaved family with regard to cushioning their grief and mitigating their hardships. Besides, it also constitutes a sort of ‘emotional atyachar’ of the next of kin who may want a more private affair. A few people, admittedly a small minority, feel that instead of being dignified affairs, they have degenerated into ‘jingoistic spectacles’, which has resulted in ‘unnecessary militarization’ of society. Either way, this point is flagged to illustrate that many sociological consequences of the Kargil War still remain to be studied and deliberated. Essentially, the Wellington experience reiterated that learning is a constant process, and there can be no certainties about war beyond the well-known principles. The then DSSC Commandant, Lt Gen SRR Aiyengar, was a brilliant and erudite officer who placed much emphasis on scholarship, both in tactics and technology. Rear Admiral Yashwant (Yankee) Prasad, the Chief Instructor (Navy), with his illustrious track record and enormous field experience, was highly regarded. They and other faculty members provided us with the necessary tools and grounding as our course culminated with a glittering graduation ceremony presided over by the highly respected APJ Kalam, the DRDO chief at that time. So, what lessons did we take as our course concluded at the end of April 2000? What did we learn about the positives and negatives of the war that we studied in detail? We learned that conflicts often happen across the whole spectrum of warfighting – from ‘infowar’ and ‘psyops’ at one end to attrition battles at the other. We learned that informational, perceptual, cyber, and kinetic measures coexist and often supplement each other. We learned what it meant to hold ground the hard-fighting Infantry way. We learned the criticality of artillery in delivering ordnance. We learned about the many arms and services of the Army and how they all contributed to the campaign. We learned that air power can play a vital role, in many different ways, especially when the Army is stymied due to circumstances. We learned that navies can play an important role, even in continental battles, in keeping the conflict localised, in threatening to choke an adversary’s energy supplies and economy, and in keeping the enemy guessing about retaliation. We learned the importance of ready and relevant intelligence, jointness in planning and operations, and inter-agency coordination. We learned that the support of people and the justness of our cause is a huge force multiplier. Above all, we learned about how X factors like leadership, courage, and morale play a crucial role in the outcome of any conflict. Nearly 25 years later, the Russia-Ukraine war reinforces the same lessons. Today, most of the officers who did the DSSC 55 are retired. Those that are serving are in the highest echelons. The ‘Millennial’ course may have been far away from the scene in Kargil, but studying the war in all its facets, even while transitioning to a new millennium riding on technology, was one of the most fascinating aspects of our time there. We will all carry and remember it, especially on Kargil Vijay Diwas. The author is a navy veteran and attended the 55th DSSC Course from 1999 to 2000. This account is based on his recollection of the same. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely that of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views. Read all the Latest News , Trending News , Cricket News , Bollywood News , India News and Entertainment News here. Follow us on Facebook , Twitter and Instagram .