A few days after that, the Indian Army tanks were seen crashing into the iron barriers of the Pakistani border, followed by troops who took on whatever little resistance the surprised and shocked Pakistani infantry tried to put up. Within hours, they reached Sialkot and launched a fierce attack. There were heavy casualties on both sides. Despite the home ground advantage, the Pakistani soldiers found it difficult to withstand the Indian Army’s relentless onslaught. For days on end, Indian soldiers kept advancing, leaving behind massive devastation. As Virk had expected, the enemy deserted the battlefield and ran for cover, leaving the strategic control of Sialkot in the hands of the Indian Army.

Advancing farther, the 1st Corps’ Armoured Division of the Indian Army launched a fierce attack on Phillora. Post a pitched battle resulting in a large number of casualties on both sides, the Indian soldiers set a record of sorts by destroying ninety state-of-the-art Patton tanks. In the process, a large number of Pakistani soldiers suffered severe burn injuries. Hundreds were trapped inside the thick steel-bodied battle tanks and were burnt alive. This shattered the morale of the Pakistani rank and file. Panic-stricken, they left their advanced armoury, weapons, automatic rifles, tanks and whatever else they possessed, and vacated their positions and posts. Hundreds of them were shot in their back while escaping but they kept running away from the battlefield to the safety of their barracks. General Virk arrived on the field and, like a lion in the jungle, stood on top of his armoured vehicle.

What he witnessed would have deterred any weak-hearted soul. Scattered in front of him, till the far horizon, were the dead bodies of the soldiers. The entire field was littered with hundreds of automatic American machine guns. They all looked brand new. Most of them hadn’t been used even once. In a pained voice, he whispered to himself, ‘Hopefully, you’ll be ashamed of your actions, Ayub Khan. Pakistan’s history shall remember you for going down on your knees to lose Sialkot.’ He stepped down from the tank and walked a few steps till he reached a machine gun lying on the ground. He picked it up to take a closer look. A faint smile appeared on his face as he saw his deputy walking up to him. Virk looked at the young colonel and said, ‘Can you believe this? Not a single round has been fired from this beauty. It’s still locked.’ The officer took the rifle from the general’s hand and stepped back. He was smiling, but his eyes were lit with deep admiration for his superior. Virk walked towards a deserted Patton tank and placed his palm on its body. He whispered, ‘Didn’t I tell you, Amrit, it’s the man behind the machine that matters?’

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