A personal account of captivity during the 1971 war reveals the hardships and resilience of Pakistani POWs, showcasing their stoic endurance despite mistreatment and violations of international law. From the surrender to escape attempts, the narrative highlights both the grim reality and the unbroken spirit of soldiers in the face of adversity.

On December 13, 1971, when I was commanding a Brigade Signal company at Sylhet as a Captain, in erstwhile East Pakistan, I received a message from Dhaka. Our communication with Dhaka was one high frequency (HF) radio link and we were using Urdu, Pashto, and English languages for conversations. In a veiled speech, an officer told me that we were likely to surrender to Indians very soon. I informed my Brigade Commander accordingly. On December 16, 1971, my counterpart, company commander Indian Brigade Signal, Major Khanna, along with a Second Lieutenant, arrived in the morning to discuss the modalities of surrender. We had a cup of tea together and agreed that on December 17, all equipment, weapons, and vehicles of my company will be handed over to the Indians, without a formal ceremony. Indian Second Lieutenant desired to have a souvenir, to mark the historic event. On his suggestion, I took out a ten rupee note, of green color, signed the same and handed over to the officer. Next day, we handed over as planned, without any fuss or acrimony. 

Indian military authorities, during negotiations for surrender, loudly committed to adhering to the Geneva Conventions. However, they failed to repatriate civilians and injured POWs immediately to their home country, as required by international law. They also failed to provide adequate care for women, children, and civilians in view of their prolonged illegal incarceration, offering them only a minimal stipend and stealing their valuables.

During the second week of January 1972, we traveled by bus from Sylhet to India. Each bus had an officer and some other ranks as guards. At Shillong, the buses stopped near a bazaar. An Indian captain bought tea for our officers from a local restaurant run by women. While men worked as waiters and handymen, women managed the establishment, giving the impression of a matriarchal society, predominantly comprising Christians.
After a brief break, we continued our journey to the Changsari Prisoner of War (POW) camp near Guwahati. We arrived at the camp by evening but were not provided food by the Indians. The group consisted of approximately 800 individuals, including about twenty officers. Four officers were summoned, while the rest of us were confined to rooms within World War II-era tin barracks.
We were provided tubular cots and had to set up our own beds, brought from East Pakistan. Interrogation of officers was ongoing in an adjacent barrack throughout the night, including punishment and torture. We could hardly sleep at night. Besides being beaten, the heads of these officers were completely shaved with razors as a mark of degradation.
At the morning fall-in, we protested against this maltreatment, a clear and initial violation of the Geneva Conventions. Led by the Commanding Officer (CO) of the Baloch Regiment, Lieutenant Colonel Yasin, this protest caused the logistics area commander of Guwahati to arrive to speak with us. He produced a letter and handed it over to Lieutenant Colonel Yasin, who read parts of it to us.
The letter, written by a Hindu girl from Sylhet, alleged that these four officers were deliberately involved in misconduct with Hindu women. Hence, the Indians claimed their treatment was a form of retribution.
From Changsari, we traveled by train to Allahabad, our unknown destination. The journey took four days, as we were on a low-priority train, frequently stopping at small, distant stations and remote platforms. During this journey, we were given food only once, on the first day. By the second day, we were hungry but had nothing to eat. We searched for any crumbs that might have fallen from our hands on the first day. Carefully, we divided these crumbs into portions for the 12 officers. We had a pitcher of water but no curry.
A Gurkha soldier stood guard outside our compartment on the platform. I showed him a crumb of bread and asked for help using sign language. He disappeared for a few minutes and then discreetly handed me a medium-sized onion. We relished this spartan meal.
After another day, we were taken off the train at Faizabad Railway Station to get some fresh air and were provided with a limited meal. A Sikh, dressed in a khaki uniform, was lying on a bench watching us in the compartment. One of the younger officers among us mistakenly thought he was a Muslim, as he had a beard, and addressed him as a Muslim preacher (Molvi Sahib). The Sikh snarled back in Punjabi, calling us “Musley.”
At night, we passed through a small town called Basti, probably named after the famous writer, poet, and saint Bhagat Kabir, who lived during the 15th century AD. He is known for his couplets in Urdu and Hindi and is revered by Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs. Two of his couplets are mentioned below (in Urdu-Hindi) as examples:
Bura dekhan mein chila, bura na milia koi,
Jo mun dekha apna, mujh se bura na koi.
(Translation: Kabir tells us to look within ourselves and reflect on what lies there—hundreds of desires, frustrations, ambitions, anger, greed, and more. He suggests that we should first clear our own slate and make it clean.)
Preet na kijo punchi jesi, jul sookhey, urr jaey,
Preet to keejo muchly jesi, jul sookhey murr jaey
After sunset, our train was moving slowly when we heard voices from the darkness—Muslims bidding us farewell and expressing concern about the outcome of 1971. It was a very sorrowful goodbye. They were in large numbers, perhaps hundreds, including women and children.
Upon reaching Camp 99 in Allahabad, our belongings were thoroughly searched, and valuable items were confiscated. This included scissors, safety razors, and other valuables. My only possession of value was three ten-rupee notes, which were deposited with the Indian authorities.
I was assigned a tubular cot in Room Number 2 of the second barrack, which housed the majority of officers from a Field Regiment. We were approximately twenty officers in one room, including majors, captains, and lieutenants.
Food was brought by a soldier from the cookhouse in a large utensil and distributed among individuals. Each person was given a plate and a mug for collecting and consuming their food. For uniforms, we were provided shirts, trousers, and PT shoes for daily use, all prominently marked with black crosses to identify us as POWs.
There were two to three roll calls (assemblies) daily, during which our presence was checked by the Indian authorities. Food was prepared by our own cooks, while rations were supplied by the Indian Army. Military personnel were given a monthly stipend for personal needs: a major received Rs. 110, a captain Rs. 92, and civilians Rs. 10. This was in addition to the cooked rations.
The money was used to purchase shaving materials, food supplements, medicines, periodicals, and books. While the stipend was sufficient for military personnel, it was entirely inadequate for civilians.
Civilians faced two significant predicaments. According to the Geneva Conventions, they were to be repatriated to their home country upon the cessation of hostilities by the detaining power. However, this was not done for two years, constituting a violation of international law.
Secondly, civilians, including women and children with special needs, were not given any humane consideration. The Geneva Conventions primarily address the needs, health, and disciplinary matters of combatants. Consequently, civilians were not provided with a reasonable stipend to meet their needs beyond basic food, causing significant hardship. This was particularly evident in terms of dietary needs for children, appropriate clothing for women, and medical supplies.
As a result, military POWs had to contribute from their stipends to support the welfare of civilians, including families. This situation also facilitated the exploitation of women and their captive relatives by the Indians. Denying male relatives the ability to visit their families was a strategic tool of exploitation. Additionally, valuables belonging to women and children, including ornaments, were confiscated by the Indians under the pretext of security checks and were never returned.
In March 1972, tunnel digging began in Camp 99 under the guidance of Major Shujaat from the Baloch Regiment, carried out by a team of about 15 to 25 officers, with the number varying over time. The planning and execution of the tunnel project were excellent, resulting in the completion of a 90-foot tunnel by May 9, 1972, in approximately 52 days.
The escape was scheduled for May 17, but the tunnel was discovered by the Indian authorities in the forenoon. Eight officers involved in digging the tunnel were identified and selected for punitive action by the camp authorities.
On a particularly hot day in Allahabad, the entire camp was assembled, and severe torture was organized by the Indian authorities (18 Sikh Regiment, the guard battalion). Even civilian officers, around twenty in number and belonging to various Pakistani ships, were not spared. The "criminal eight" were subjected to professional interrogation and torture. They were exposed to two German Shepherd dogs, and four of the officers were bitten. No rabies injections were administered; instead, they were left to heal naturally.
The eight officers were placed in solitary confinement for a month, permitted to visit the toilets only twice a day under strict guard. The next day, all camp inmates were forced to stand in the scorching sun for the entire day. Rations were halved, as were the monthly stipends. Electric fans were disconnected, exacerbating the sweltering heat of Allahabad.
These draconian punishments were in clear violation of international laws.
While writing a book about escape attempts, “Those Who Dared,” we collected 42 stories based on our research of more than three years. The information is more than 90 percent authentic due to extensive cross-checking. A significant amount of authentic information was gathered on the violation of international laws by the Indians in relation to escape attempts. Many details are provided in this book, with a few examples highlighted in the following paragraphs to emphasize the misconduct and cruelty faced by Pakistanis, which they endured boldly and stoically.
While traveling to a camp in Meerut, Major Qadir from Signals, Special Service Group (SSG), attacked sentries on a bus, and during the ensuing commotion, seven officers managed to escape. Once the situation was stabilized by the Indians with reinforcements, a platoon viciously attacked Major Qadir for his role in the escape. His arm was broken, and he sustained a serious head injury. They continued beating him until his body was covered in blood, and he lost consciousness. This incident occurred in early 1972.
In November 1972, on a foggy night in Camp 25 Ramgarh, eight officers planned to escape by scaling three layers of barbed wire fences, about ten feet high. They were to attempt in pairs. The first pair comprised Captain Niazi,  Baloch Regiment and Captain Afreen,  Punjab Regiment. Both were able to scale the first two fences. While at the third and final fence, a sentry with a sniffing dog appeared unexpectedly. Upon seeing the officers trying to climb the fence, he ordered them to halt and raise their hands. Both complied. However, the sentry opened fire and killed Captain Niazi on the spot, despite the officer informing the sentry that he was following the instructions. The sentry also attempted to kill Captain Afreen, but the latter evaded death by running back inside the perimeter fence. The reckless firing led to the death of another POW, who was merely a spectator. Since both officers had complied with the "hands up" instruction, no firing was necessary, and two lives could have been saved.
A tunnel was dug for escape by SSG commandos in the maximum-security Agra Jail, Camp 44, which housed junior commissioned officers (JCOs) and other ranks. This jail had been declared the most secure prison by the Indian authorities. However, the tunnel was ultimately detected by the Indians before anyone could escape. Another escape attempt had partially succeeded when one Jawan managed to scale three walls—10, 15, and 25 feet high—to escape from the Mughal-era jail. He was caught within a day and brought back. The two incidents rattled the camp authorities, led by Lieutenant Colonel Bharat Singh. He had Subedar Major Zardad Khan of a Commando Battalion beaten systematically, along with about ten other non-commissioned officers (NCOs). After the thorough beating, which resulted in serious injuries, Zardad Khan was tied to the grill/gate of his cell and forced to stand 24/7. This caused severe swelling in his legs and the deterioration of his wounds. While this severe punishment was ongoing, an International Red Cross (IRC) representative arrived to check the condition of the inmates. He was given an application, addressed to the Indian Chief of Army Staff, detailing the horrendous conditions, specifically regarding Subedar Major Zardad Khan. As a result, a team of three officers, along with a doctor, was sent from General Headquarters (GHQ) to investigate the situation. The contents of the application were reviewed by the inquiry team, and the conduct of the camp authorities was deemed illegal and cruel. All of them were replaced, and suitable relief was provided to the inmates.
Captain Sarfaraz Abidi, Ordnance Corps, and Captain Akbar, ASC, were traveling together as POWs in a train from Calcutta to an unknown destination during the first week of January 1972. Both had decided to escape at the first opportunity by jumping from the train. Later in the night, they opened the window shutter, and Sarfaraz jumped out of the high-speed electric train. He sustained multiple injuries to his head and nose, and his clothes were torn from the rolling caused by the fall. The train had stopped at a small railway station named Taser, close to Mughal Sarai, on the border between Uttar Pradesh (UP) and Bihar. While trying to wash himself, Sarfaraz was caught by the railway staff and handed over to the local police. The police confiscated Rs 20 from his pocket and took him to Mughal Sarai to present him before a magistrate. In front of a mob, the magistrate treated him very crudely and sent him to jail for exemplary punishment. At the jail, his clothes were removed, and he was beaten by jail goons, instigated by the jailers. He was kept in a cage inside a room, almost naked, like an animal in a zoo. For sleeping, he was given a brick as a pillow and a sackcloth as a blanket. He was kept in this semi-naked condition for a week. Later, he was handed over to the authorities of Camp 93 in Gaya. The Indian authorities kept him in solitary confinement for 56 days without bringing him before the commandant for a formal charge sheet. According to international law, a prisoner can only be punished by confinement for a maximum of 28 days at a time. This provision was violated with impunity. The food provided to him was substandard, making him sick and weak. He went on a hunger strike, and then the food was changed to the same as provided to other prisoners. After 56 days, Sarfaraz was shifted to Agra Jail, Camp 88. In this camp, he was again placed in solitary confinement without a proper trial. He lost count of the days of incarceration. After about a month, he was released and allowed to join the other officers in the camp. His total solitary confinement exceeded 86 days, without formal trial or punishment. This was a flagrant violation of international law.
Indian military authorities, during negotiations for surrender, loudly committed to adhering to the Geneva Conventions. However, they failed to repatriate civilians and injured POWs immediately to their home country, as required by international law. They also failed to provide adequate care for women, children, and civilians in view of their prolonged illegal incarceration, offering them only a minimal stipend and stealing their valuables. Ultimately, all POWs and civilian detainees were released after two years. This delay was caused by the Indians, who sought to secure a better bargain from Pakistan, explicitly violating the Geneva Conventions.