Operation Khukri: When 233 soldiers of the Indian Army were held hostage in Sierra Leone

On 2 May 2000, I woke up to a message from Colonel Martin, who communicated to me through Sister that the RUF wanted to discuss modalities for the commencement of disarmament at the town hall at 0900 hours. I immediately spoke to Major Nair, who was at the high ground, and he too confirmed getting the message. This definitely was a piece of good news under prevailing circumstances, since pressure for disarmament in Kailahun was building on us.

With a lot of questions in my mind, I got ready and started for the town hall. While leaving, I asked Captain Sunil to accompany me. I usually sought Maa Durga’s blessings at our company temple whenever I ventured into town. On that day, however, I was in a hurry and missed out on it.

At the town hall, I was received by Major Kupoi of the RUF, who informed me that Colonel Martin was on his way.

In the meantime, Major Nair too had arrived, and Major Kupoi requested us to be seated in the town hall. We had barely managed to sit on the velvety couch when we heard a bolt from nowhere: both the massive iron gates of the town hall were shut with a big bang. We were startled to see Major Kupoi along with 10–12 unfamiliar faces. They took out differently sized guns, which they had tucked behind their backs, and swiftly pointed them at us.

Major Kupoi’s face beamed with a sense of accomplishment, as though he was the cop who had nabbed an absconding criminal. There was a deafening silence in the dome-shaped conference room of the town hall. Then, unexpectedly, Major Kupoi started vociferously charging at me with his words, which had a cascading effect. In a flash, we had a group of armed men yelling at us at the same time.

What I could discern from this godforsaken moment was that Major Kupoi was levelling allegations against us, for the killings of their innocent brethren. Kupoi, in particular, also mentioned that our Force Commander, General Jetley, had sent a helicopter gunship to shoot down innocent RUF members in Makeni and Magburaka.

Hearing this, I instantly sensed that there was more to it than met the eye, and hence I tried to pacify Kupoi, but to no avail. He got further enraged, pointing towards “India” written on our shoulders. One soldier, who was accompanying Kupoi, pointed his gun at me and shouted that their demand was “Blood for Blood”. I saw the fury of vendetta in his narrow eyes and marks of wrath on his reddening face.

Suddenly, the iron door clanged and several RUF soldiers came running, as if the world was collapsing, shouting “Revenge”, with their weapons pointed towards the ceiling. In no time, we were like tricksters at a fair and they, the furious spectators, cordoning us off.

Then, breaking the sunbeams, a distorted shadow entered the town hall.

When I looked up, all my distress evaporated as it was a familiar face. The person was embellished with a rather bizarre ornament. It was Sister, with a rocket launcher strapped on her back, marching towards us. Every step she took made our blood run cold. That moment I told myself, “Major, you were playing with fire when you made Sister ‘your sister’ without realising that she was the sister of the RUF!”

I shifted my focus from Sister’s face to Major Kupoi’s irate face, who ordered us to hand over our weapons. I sharply replied that we were peacekeepers and hence did not carry our weapons; I said that the weapons were kept in the camp.

Kupoi then asked one of his soldiers to frisk us, and that was when they recovered a pocket radio set from Captain Sunil, who gave me a perplexed look. “Captain Sunil, hand over the radio,” I said. I asked Kupoi to hear me out, but he abruptly started shouting, and sensing the gravity of the situation, I kept quiet.

I then asked Kupoi the reason for the remand. He narrated the entire incident that had transpired the previous day. The RUF soldiers who were peacefully protesting forceful disarmament by the DDR camp at Makeni were fired upon by Kenyan peacekeepers. Around the same time, a helicopter gunship of the UN had pulled the triggers at the RUF soldiers who had gathered at Magburaka.

In that woeful incident, the RUF had lost twenty soldiers, and as a fallout, they had laid siege to all areas around Sierra Leone where peacekeepers were present, except the capital, Freetown. I inquired about Colonel Martin and was told that we would be taken to him as per orders.

I glared at Sister with questioning eyes as she gaped at the tiles on the floor, as though trying to mentally solve a mathematical puzzle – she just couldn’t look me in the eyes. She only said that she had no option but to join the RUF after her husband’s death. I was oblivious to the fact that she was an RUF rebel. I don’t really know the reason for it. Was it that Sister had expertly concealed this fact? Or was it that her innocent face never gave me an inkling about her affiliation?

I had barely processed this bombshell when Major Kupoi and his men took us out of the town hall, where soldiers surrounded each one of us. I was asked by Major Kupoi to sit in the rear of my vehicle, since I was a hostage.

I can’t explain the expression of my driver, Om Prakash, who was baffled seeing me get into the rear seat of my own vehicle, and almost instantaneously, he was shoved into the driver’s seat by an RUF soldier. I was wedged between armed RUF soldiers. The other soldiers hung on to the vehicle from the outside, in a manner that made it increasingly difficult to breathe inside.

The vehicle moved through the jungle track. Major Kupoi, seated in the front, was continually communicating through his radio set in his language. It was a jolting journey, with our heads hitting the roof of the vehicle due to the broken track we were driving on. The soldiers hanging on the sides of the vehicle were continuously shouting, and I was wondering what next.

I was particularly worried about my company and tried asking Kupoi about my men’s status. He replied, “The orders for the disarmament of all peacekeepers have been received by us, and no damage to any soldier will happen.”

I told Kupoi instantly, “However much you try, Indians will not lay down weapons. Every soldier of my company would choose death over surrender.”

He laughed and told me to wait and watch.

After driving for about half an hour through the wilderness, I could see some sort of habitation, which looked like an RUF camp. I got off the vehicle as two RUF soldiers continued pointing their guns at me. Major Nair’s vehicle, too, arrived, and he was in a similar state.

I saw Jonathan, the RUF intellectual, who came forward to welcome Major Nair and me. Seeing him, I remarked, “The RUF is playing with fire, the consequences of which will be hazardous. Jonathan, I thought you were smarter than that. I’m amazed to witness how the RUF is on a road of self-destruction.”

He explained that these were the orders from the Field Commander but assured us of ensuring that they would follow protocol. He then said something in the local language to the soldiers who had their guns pointed at us. As a result, they moved a few steps back and put down their weapons.

Even Major Kupoi’s behaviour changed slightly after Jonathan’s arrival. Jonathan explained that it was part of RUF tactics to separate Commanders from their companies and that their next step would be to disarm all peacekeepers as per instructions.

I asked Jonathan about Colonel Martin, and he informed me that currently Colonel Martin was in the field and would meet me once he got back. Jonathan also told us that what was happening was a response to the previous day’s unfortunate incident in which many RUF soldiers were killed by United Nations peacekeepers.

I wondered why we were not informed of the incident by our own headquarters. Had we known, we probably would not have landed into the RUF trap. After an hour, eleven military observers hailing from different countries were brought in vehicles from Kailahun to the RUF camp, and now Jonathan’s major worry was to provide food to everyone. He put forth his concern that the RUF would not be able to offer food to our taste, so he was going to send one of our vehicles to our camp to get food for everyone.

The military observers were petrified; most of them had been manhandled by the RUF. Major Andrew Harrison of England was scared out of his wits. Sierra Leone was an erstwhile British colony, and he anticipated that he would be the first casualty in case the RUF started eliminating us one by one.

The first exercise the RUF carried out was to physically frisk each of us by taking everyone individually into a dark room. All the money the observers had was taken away, and during the frisking, most of them were roughed up. Thereafter, all of us were asked to stay in “barracks” that had no roof and no walls. Primarily, it was only a stretch of coarse floor in the name of barracks.

I instructed my driver to get groundsheets for everyone when he would go to procure our dinner, since it was already well past lunch. The so-called barracks had four armed RUF soldiers on four corners, while the rest went into their living areas.

Major Nair and I wondered what must be transpiring back in our companies. But one good thing that happened was that the food vehicle going to camp eventually got back with all the information about the developments taking place in our camp.

Overall, I was feeling miserable, having been separated from my command in a crisis, which is the worst thing that can happen to a soldier. My boys, my men, were my responsibility. But here I was stuck as a hostage without any offence and with barely any knowledge of what my soldiers were going through in Kailahun. I just kept praying for their safety.

Om Prakash, my driver, accompanied by four RUF soldiers, brought our dinner from the camp. He also brought in the situation report of our company being surrounded by the RUF in large numbers. Since morning, they had been trying to coerce and threaten the company to lay down weapons, failing which, they would attack the company. That sight of dead bodies of innocent soldiers piled up wouldn’t have been a pleasant one.

They also used Captain Sunil as a human shield for terrorising the company to surrender, threatening to shoot him. I was told Captain Sunil displayed undaunted courage and valour by shouting back at our soldiers, “Koi bhi hathiyaar nahi daalega chahe yeh mujhe goli hi kyun na maar de. Humare tirange ki izzat kam nahi honi chahiye kisi bhi haal mein (Even if they shoot me, nobody will surrender, nobody would diminish the honour of our tricolour).” I was so proud of the young officer and wondered where he went right after the town hall incident in the morning.

Excerpted with permission from Operation Khukri, Major General Rajpal Punia and Damini Punia, Ebury Press.