Keywords: HF-24 Marut, 1971 Indo-Pak War, No.10 Squadron ‘Winged Daggers’, No.220 Squadron ‘Desert Tigers’, Uttarlai Air Force Base

The 1971 war is considered the Indian Air Force’s (IAF) golden hour, as it saw the utilisation of air power to its fullest. The conflict served as a trial by fire for India’s first homegrown fighter, the HAL HF-24 Marut. The article aims to provide a day-by-day breakdown of operations conducted during the 1971 war, offering an in-depth understanding of the IAF’s role and contributions to the war-fighting efforts.

Marut’s Pre-War Service

The Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) HF-24 Marut, India’s first indigenous jet fighter-bomber, was inducted into the IAF in 1967. By the time the war broke out, the Marut aircraft equipped two squadrons of the IAF, namely, the No.10 Squadron ‘Winged Daggers’ and the No.220 Squadron ‘Desert Tigers’, both based out of Jodhpur. The two squadrons were under the command of Wing Commander Keshev Chandra Aggarwal and Wing Commander Ranjit Dhawan, respectively.^{[1] [2]}

No.10 and No.220 had been equipped with Maruts in the years leading up to the 1971 war, No.10 in April 1967 and No.220 in April 1969. Both squadrons were co-based at Pune until they were relocated to Jodhpur in December 1970.^{[3] [4]} Although Jodhpur has been an active airbase of the IAF since the 1950s, it was only on January 1, 1971, that it was upgraded to the status of 32 Wing.^{[5] [6]} Both squadrons operated regular detachments from Uttarlai.^[7]

Armament aboard the HF-24

The Marut was capable of carrying a mix of guns, bombs and unguided rockets. Its primary internal weapons were 4 x 30 mm British ADEN cannons, each with 120 rounds. Apart from the guns, the Marut also had the interesting feature of a retractable rocket pack that fired 50 x 2.68 in (68mm) French Matra rockets in a single salvo. This pack was located behind the cockpit. The Marut could also carry up to 4,000 lb. of external stores across four hardpoints. These included 100 gal. drop tanks, up to two Napalm canisters or two SNEB Type-23 rocket pods (36 rockets total), or up to four 500 lb. or 1,000 lb. unguided bombs.^[8]

About two weeks before the war started, limitations were imposed on the firing of forward guns after an accident occurred in Jamnagar, during which Squadron Leader Arun Keshav Sapre was killed.^[9] The mishap resulted from critical design deficiencies, inducing severe structural resonance when all four cannons were fired concurrently.^{[10] [11]}

The War Begins

While the primary objective of the 1971 war was the eventual liberation of the state of Bangladesh in the shortest possible time, on the Western Front, the war was maintaining a ‘defensive-offensive’ posture. Owing to this, the Indian Army adopted a strategy to react to West Pakistan’s escalation, starting the evening of December 3, 1971. In this Western context, the IAF’s operations were directed towards three main objectives: To ensure continuous and strong air defence of the area along the Western Front and to prevent the PAF in the west from interfering with Indian land and air operations.^[12]

No. 10 and No. 220 squadrons primarily focused on Close Air Support (CAS), interdiction, and Tactical Reconnaissance (TAC/R) in the Naya Chor sector, executing 140 ground support sorties. Key operations included striking heavily defended positions like Gazi Camp and Parbat Ali in direct support of the 11 Division’s push, while systematically targeting logistics hubs, railway lines (notably Mirpur Khas), and enemy armour concentrations.^[13]

December 4, 1971

Uttarlai airbase was attacked in four separate bombing raids by Pakistani Air Force (PAF) B-57 bombers operating from Mianwali and Masroor.^{[14] [15]} At the time, both the Marut squadrons were operating detachments from Uttarlai in anticipation of war. The raids caused significant damage to the runway, with six bombs rendering it temporarily unserviceable. Operations resumed only from the parallel taxi track from dawn on December 4.^[16]

The Marut flew its first combat missions on December 4, against the PAF airfields at Hyderabad (Sindh) and Nawabshah. The strikes were carried out by four-aircraft formations led by the COs of Nos. 10 and 220 Squadrons respectively. ^{[17] [18]} However, only six of the eight designated aircraft took off due to technical issues. Flying at low level, the Maruts found both airfields largely deserted and, owing to range limitations, carried only their internal guns. Despite poor visibility and the absence of enemy aircraft, the attacks damaged infrastructure, including the flying control and administrative buildings.^[19].

Later that day, both squadrons flew further strike and battlefield interdiction missions in the Naya Chor sector and against Gazi Camp in support of the Indian Army’s offensive. During one such mission near Dhoronaro railway station, the Marut suffered its first combat loss. Flight Lieutenant P. V. Apte of No. 220 Squadron was hit by anti-aircraft fire and ejected safely, but was killed by Pakistani troops while attempting to evade capture. He was posthumously awarded the Vir Chakra.^{[20] [21]}

Back in Jodhpur, pilots who were not on the Uttarlai detachment cursed vehemently at missing the first day of action and were further frustrated by being ordered to fly defensive Combat Air Patrol (CAP) over the base.^[22] Both squadrons flew a total of eight missions on December 4^th.

December 5, 1971

On the morning of December 5, No. 10 Squadron launched another four-aircraft strike mission against Hyderabad airfield. Finding no worthwhile targets, the Maruts strafed nearby buildings instead. During take-off, Flight Lieutenant J. S. “Jug Jug” Kapoor suffered a tyre burst, forcing him to jettison his drop tanks and divert to Jodhpur. Around the same time, Marut pilots also carried out glide-bombing attacks on Naya Chor, a strategically important area housing Pakistani signals and navigational facilities that remained a recurring target throughout the war.^[23]

Later that morning, No. 220 Squadron suffered its second combat loss to enemy Anti-Aircraft fire. Sqn Ldr Krishen Kumar Bakshi and Flt Lt Jawaharlal Bhargava were attacking ground targets near Naya Chor when Bhargava’s aircraft was hit during a dive attack.^{[24] [25]} Although he briefly regained control and attempted to return towards India, the aircraft became uncontrollable near the international border. Bhargava ejected safely but was captured by Pakistani forces.^[26]

That evening, No. 220 Squadron flew armed reconnaissance missions near Longewala to locate Pakistani armour formations. None were found, confirming the withdrawal of enemy armour following earlier IAF Hunter strikes.^[27] During these missions, the Maruts also attacked railway and transport targets around Dhoronaro, damaging rolling stock and destroying a jeep near the canal junction west of Chor.^[28]

December 6, 1971

On December 6, the Maruts continued operations in the Naya Chor sector, with tactics shifting from unguided rockets to heavier ordnance such as 1,000 lb High-Explosive bombs and napalm canisters. Several missions were flown against suspected Pakistani armour concentrations around Khipro and Dhoronaro.

During one such sortie, Squadron Leader Krishen Kumar Bakshi and Flight Lieutenant Sreekanth of No. 220 Squadron carried out a napalm strike near Dhoronaro when they encountered four PAF F-86 Sabres. Bakshi attempted to engage one of the fighters, but the Sabres quickly disengaged before a decisive combat could develop. Although Sreekanth later reported seeing smoke trailing from one of the enemy aircraft, Pakistani records do not acknowledge any loss in that sector.^{[29] [30]} Bakshi was subsequently awarded the Vir Chakra for his actions.^[31]

The same day, No. 220 Squadron also mounted repeated strikes against Nawabshah airfield despite persistent technical problems that forced two mission aborts.^[32]  One two-aircraft formation, flown by Wg Cdr Dhawan and Flt Lt Kasbekar, succeeded in damaging a hangar before further planned strikes had to be cancelled due to aircraft unserviceability.^[33] That day, Maruts destroyed a total of six Type 59 Main Battle Tanks (MBT) of 10 Guides Cavalry (attached to 33 Infantry Division).^[34]

December 7, 1971

On December 7, the Maruts flew eight close air support sorties, particularly around the village of Sufi Faqir, west of Naya Chor.^[35] During one tactical reconnaissance mission, a pair of Maruts piloted by Wg Cdr K. C. “Boss” Aggarwal and “Pinky” sighted a formation of PAF F-86 Sabres strafing Indian Army positions near Parcheji Veri. Outnumbered and at a tactical disadvantage, the Marut pilots chose not to engage.^[36] Marut’s strike that day also accounted for the destruction of three Pakistani Type 59 tanks belonging to 10 Guides Cavalry.^[37] Later that evening, Uttarlai was subjected to another Pakistani B-57 bombing raid. Although bombs struck a taxi-track connecting the runway to the parallel taxiway, the airbase suffered no significant operational disruption.^[38]

December 8, 1971

On December 7, the Maruts flew eight close air support sorties, particularly around the village of Sufi Faqir, west of Naya Chor.^[39] During one tactical reconnaissance mission, a pair of Maruts piloted by Wg Cdr K. C. “Boss” Aggarwal and “Pinky” sighted a formation of PAF F-86 Sabres strafing Indian Army positions near Parcheji Veri. Outnumbered and at a tactical disadvantage, the Marut pilots chose not to engage.^[40] Marut’s strike that day also accounted for the destruction of three Pakistani Type 59 tanks belonging to 10 Guides Cavalry.^[41] Later that evening, Uttarlai was subjected to another Pakistani B-57 bombing raid. Although bombs struck a taxi-track connecting the runway to the parallel taxiway, the airbase suffered no significant operational disruption.^[42]

December 9, 1971

No. 220 maintained a high tempo with four missions. Wg Cdr Dhawan and Sqn Ldr D S Jatar executed a Counter Air Offensive over Nawabshah, destroying two hangarettes, though Sqn Ldr D S Jatar had to land with very low fuel due to a fuel transfer issue. Sqn Ldr Bakshi and Flt Lt Kasbekar flew a TAC/R (Tactical Reconnaissance) strike in Umarkot and Dhoronaro, destroying 5 vehicles and 1 tank.^{[43] [44]} Flt Lt Batra flew as part of a No. 10 Squadron formation; they were chased by four Sabres but returned safely. A final Counter Air Offensive over Nawabshah by Wg Cdr Dhawan and Flt Lt Kasbekar saw Wg Cdr Dhawan experience a total hydraulic failure, though he managed a safe return.

December 11, 1971

On the morning of December 11, two Maruts of No. 10 Squadron were preparing for take-off from Uttarlai when the airbase came under a sudden low-level attack by PAF F-104 Starfighters. The attacking aircraft strafed the taxi track just short of the runway, as the Maruts were about to line up for take-off. One Marut, piloted by Sqn Ldr M.S. “Micky” Jatar (D-1204), was destroyed after its fuel tank was hit and the aircraft caught fire. Struggling with a jammed canopy, Jatar managed to force it open and escape through the burning fuel, sustaining first-degree burns in the process.^[45] Another Marut, flown by Flt Lt J.S. Sidhu, was also hit, though the pilot escaped safely. Ground crew personnel subsequently towed the damaged aircraft to safety despite the continuing threat of attack.^[46]

Pakistani accounts claim two Maruts destroyed during the strike, though Indian sources credit the loss of only one aircraft.^{[47] [48]}  The attacking formation was led by Wg Cdr Arif Iqbal of No. 9 Squadron PAF, with Sqn Ldr Amanullah as his wingman.^[49]

Later that night, an unidentified enemy aircraft approached Uttarlai and dropped illumination or pyrotechnic devices over a decoy camp established by Indian forces. A second aircraft appeared roughly half an hour later but did not attack, suggesting a possible photo-reconnaissance mission over the area.^[50]

December 12-17, 1971

From December 12 onwards, the Maruts continued to fly CAS and strike missions in the Naya Chor sector. During one mission on that day, a two-aircraft formation of No. 220 Squadron (flown by Sqn Ldr Brian DeMagrey and Flt Lt KP Srikant) was intercepted by a pair of PAF F-86 Sabres. In the brief engagement that followed, Srikant attempted to drive off a Sabre pursuing his leader, only to be chased in turn by the second fighter. Both Maruts disengaged safely.

On the dawn of December 13, the Indian Army launched an assault on the Parbat Ali feature, which was captured after fierce fighting and repeated Pakistani counter-attacks supported by armour and Sabre jets. Maruts flew 12 CAS sorties during the battle. That evening, No. 29 Squadron’s MiG-21FLs replaced the Gnats of No. 21 Squadron in the escort role for Marut strike formations.^{[51] [52]}

By the final day of the war, the Maruts were flying an average of eight sorties daily. Even on December 16, as news arrived of the surrender of Pakistani forces in Dacca, both squadrons continued offensive operations. Missions flown that day targeted gun positions, transport vehicles, railway assets and concealed Pakistani army positions around Chor, Dhoronaro, Pithoro and Sufi Faqir under forward air controller guidance.

No.220 Squadron conducted three missions on that day. Wg Cdr Dhawan and Flt Lt Kasbekar flew a TAC/R Strike over Dhoronaro-Pithoro-Sufi-Faqir-Mirpurkhas, destroying a wagon at Pithoro railway station and two vehicles. Sqn Ldr DeMagry and Flt Lt Sreekanth hit and damaged a camouflaged army position west of Naya Chor under FAC’s direction. The final mission, a TAC/R Strike over Sufi-Faqir and Pithoro by Squadron Leader D S Jatar and Flt Lt Batra, successfully destroyed several vehicles.

Maintenance and Readiness

Prior to the outbreak of the conflict, the average serviceability of the HF-24 Marut for the year 1971 was as follows:

Source: Form 1500 (Operational Record Book) of No.10 Squadron and No.220 Squadron.

Table 1: Serviceability rate of Nos. 10 and 220 Squadrons for the annual year 1970-71.

The average serviceability of the Maruts was maintained through constant ferries to Jodhpur and back. Whenever an aircraft needed any major rectifications or repairs, or for servicing that was beyond the scope of Uttarlai, they were ferried to Jodhpur, where said repairs were conducted and ferried back to Uttarlai. These ferries were conducted by a group of young pilots. Sometimes, several sorties were flown in a single day to ensure an average of 12-15 Maruts were available through the 14 days. This idea was devised by the Chief Technical Officer of Uttarlai, Wing Commander (later Air Marshal) Shashikumar Samuel Ramdas.^[53] No.10 saw exceptional maintenance with 100 per cent serviceability at Uttarlai, and not one mission had to wait for aircraft to be made ready.

Conclusion

Over the 14 days of the Indo-Pak War, the HF-24 Marut proved a lynchpin of the IAF’s operations in the Naya Chor sector. Operating from Uttarlai Air Base between December 14 and 16, Marut squadrons executed sustained Close Air Support, interdiction, Tactical Reconnaissance (TAC-R), Recce & Strike and Offensive Counter Air missions, striking targets such as Hyderabad and Nawabshah airfields, the Naya Chor–Dhoronaro–Umarkot axis, and the Mirpur Khas railway yard where rolling stock was systematically destroyed.

These operations were carried out successfully despite several challenges, ranging from serviceability to partially inoperable runways due to several PAF air raids and heavy AAA fire. The campaign came at a high human cost, with Flt Lt Apte killed in action and Flt Lt Bhargava captured. Forward Air Controllers (FAC) played a crucial part in aiding successful missions, as they effectively were the eyes and ears of the prowling Maruts, by guiding them accurately towards their targets.

Equally critical was the exceptional effort of the ground crew: through an innovative system of ferrying aircraft to Jodhpur for major repairs, No. 10 Squadron maintained a high degree of serviceability. Despite initial issues caused by equipment failures, both squadrons managed to deliver a good performance. Both squadrons managed to fly a total of 140 sorties (No.10 and No.220 Squadron flying 72 and 68 sorties respectively). Three aircraft were lost, all due to combat, with two being destroyed due to AAA and one due to PAF OCA on December 11, 1971; two losses were of No.220 Sqn. The average attrition rate was 0.021 for the entire Marut fleet, with individual attrition rates of 1.39 and 2.94 for No.10 and 220 squadrons, respectively. ^{[54] [55]}

The Marut’s performance during these fourteen days was marked by operational persistence, pilot courage, and remarkable maintenance ingenuity and stands as a defining chapter in the aircraft’s combat legacy and the IAF’s conduct in the 1971 war.

ANNEXURE 1: List of Marut pilots deployed at Uttarlai during the 1971 India-Pakistan War

No.10 Squadron

• • Wing Commander K.C. Aggarwal (“Boss”)

  • Squadron Leader P.E. Gaynor (“Pete”)

  • Squadron Leader A.V. Kamat (“Kamy”)

  • Squadron Leader M.S. Jatar (“Micky/Mickey”)

  • Flight Lieutenant Y. Chauhan (“Chou”)

  • Flight Lieutenant G.S. Sarao (“Sarao”)

  • Flight Lieutenant J.S. Kapoor (“Jug Jug”)

  • Flight Lieutenant J.S. Sisodia (“Sis)

  • Flight Lieutenant J.S Sidhu (“Panchi”)

  • Flying Officer D.N.G.P. Rao (“Pinky”)

No. 220 Squadron

• • Wing Commander R. Dhawan (“Jit”)

  • Squadron Leader D.S. Jatar (“Dinky Jatar”)

  • Squadron Leader K.K. Bakshi (“Joe”)

  • Squadron Leader B.S. DeMagry

  • Flight Lieutenant P.V. Apte

  • Flight Lieutenant J.L. Bhargava (“Brother”)

  • Flight Lieutenant M.Y. Kasbekar (“Bobby”)

  • Flight Lieutenant K.P. Sreekanth

  • Flight Lieutenant S.C. Batra (“Bats Batra”)

Forward Air Controllers (FACs)

• • Flight Lieutenant W.R.S. Rao (“Robs”)

  • Flying Officer H.N.D. Mullaferoze (“Mulla” / “Feroze”)

*****

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Notes:

^[1]“IAF Database Record 4434,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/4434. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[2]“IAF Database Record 4572,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/4572. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[3] HushKit, “I Flew the HAL HF-24 Marut Fighter,” Hush-Kit, https://hushkit.substack.com/p/i-flew-the-hal-hf-24-marut-fighter. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[4]Indian Air Force, n. 2.

^[5] “The Indian Air Force in the 1965 War,” Web Archives, https://web.archive.org/web/20111117222535/http://bharat-rakshak.com/IAF/History/1965War/Chapter8.html. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[6] “32 Wing,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/units/32+Wing. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[7] “Runway Nomads: The Story of IAF’s Mobile Echelons,” Indian Air Force History, https://iafhistory.in/2025/07/17/runway-nomads-the-story-of-iafs-mobile-echelons/. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[8] Satyajit Lall, 1971 Strategy, Campaign, Valour (India: Sabre & Quill Publishers, 2024), p. 97.

^[9] “Service Record of Squadron Leader Arun Keshav Sapre,” Bharat Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/4981. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[10] Pushpindar Singh, Spirits of the Wind: The HAL HF-24 Marut (New Delhi: Society for Aerospace Studies, 2011), pp.56-57.

^[11] Vikram Singh (Retd. Air Marshal), in discussion with Arjun Prakash Iyer, Bengaluru, February 19, 2026.

^[12] Air Marshal Vikram Singh (Retd.), Personal interview by Arjun Prakash Iyer, Bengaluru, February 19, 2026, transcript (in-person), Accessed on February 22, 2026.

^[13]  Vikram Singh, Because of This: A History of the Indo-Pak Air War of December 1971 (New Delhi: Manohar Publishers & Distributors, 2025), pp. 168–191.

^[14] Vikram Singh, Because of This: A History of Indo-Pak Air War of December 1971 (New Delhi: Manohar Publishers and USI of India, 2025), pp. 168–191.

^[15]Yawar Mazhar and Usman Shabbir, Eagles of Destiny: Volume 2—Growth and Wars of the Pakistani Air Force 1956–1971 (Solihull: Helion & Company, 2023), p. 67.

^[16]  Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[17]Indian Air Force, ORB, No. 10 Squadron, quarter ending December 31, 1971.

^[18] Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[19] Indian Air Force, ORB, No. 220 Squadron, quarter ending December 31, 1971.

^[20] “IAF Database Record 10456,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/10456. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[21] Kaiser Tufail, “Air War in the Thar,” Kaiser-Aeronaut Blog, October 2009, https://kaiser-aeronaut.blogspot.com/2009/10/air-war-in-thar.html. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[22]Indian Air Force, n.17.

^[23]Indian Air Force, n. 17.

^[24]  Indian Air Force, n. 19.

^[25]   Singh, n.14, pp. 168–191.

^[26] “IAF Database Record 7209,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/7209. Accessed on March 5, 2026.

^[27]   Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[28]   Indian Air Force, n. 19.

^[29] Vikram Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[30]  Lall, n. 11, p. 612.

^[31]“IAF Database Record 5012,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/5012, Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[32]  Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[33] Ibid., pp. 168–191.

^[34]  Lall, n. 11, p. 585

^[35] Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[36] Indian Air Force, n.17.

^[37]Lall, n. 11, p. 585.

^[38]  Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[39] Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[40] Indian Air Force, n.17.

^[41]Lall, n. 11, p. 585.

^[42]  Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[43] Indian Air Force, n. 19.

^[44] Lall, n. 11, p. 585.

^[45] “HAL HF-24 Marut D-1204,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/aircraft/D-1204. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[46] Indian Air Force, n. 19.

^[47] Lall, n. 11, p.628.

^[48]  Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[49]Mazhar and Shabbir, n. 15, p. 68.

^[50]   Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

^[51]  Ibid., pp. 168–191.

^[52]  Indian Air Force, n. 19.

^[53] “IAF Database Record 4930,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/4930. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

^[54]Lall, n. 11, p. 604.

^[55] Singh, n. 14, pp. 168–191.

The post Tempests of Uttarlai: HF-24 Marut in the 1971 War appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: History of IAF Helicopters, Evolution of IAF Helicopters, Mi-4 Gunship, Chetak  Weaponisation, IAF Anti-Tank Helicopters, Helicopter Warfare in India, Indo-Pak War 1965 Helicopters, Indian Military Aviation History

Introduction

The history of helicopters began like a scene from an old war film—a bulbous, vulnerable craft hovering over a clearing, its rotors scattering dust and grass, a stretcher being pulled aboard as men dive for cover. In the early years, the helicopter was the gentle soul of the battlefield: fragile, vulnerable, expensive, and never meant to kill. Its purpose was mercy, its mission to save.

But history has a dark sense of irony. And on the chessboard of mid-20th-century South Asia, necessity wrote a new script. The machine that started as a rescuer of the wounded, and sometimes be hunted, would within a generation, learn to hunt and return- bristling with rocket pods and guided missiles— transformed by fire, fear, and necessity into one of war’s most versatile predators— descending as combat machines, stalking tanks across the desert.

This is the story of that transformation— of how Sikorsky S-55s and Bell 47s, once known as “friends in distress,” gave way to Alouette-IIIs (Chetaks) armed with anti-tank guided missiles and then to the ultimate war machines like HAL Prachand and Rudra; of the improvised Mi-4 gunships that struck back on battlefields; and of the birth of formal Anti-Tank Guided Missile (ATGM) units within the Indian Air Force. Across the world, others were learning the same hard lessons—in the jungles of Vietnam, the mountains of Algeria, and the deserts beyond. It is a tale of doctrine catching up to combat, of workshops and tireless engineers bending metal and weapons, and of the complex trade-offs in airframe, weight and survivability that turn a rescue craft into an instrument of attack.

I. The Benign Beginnings (1949- 1961): “A Friend in Time of Distress”

When the Joint Planning Sub-Committee first assessed helicopters for the Indian Armed Forces in 1949, the verdict was cautious. Helicopters were mechanically complex and fragile in the eyes of planners, useful primarily for resupplying isolated posts, jungle and mountain rescue, delivering intelligence teams behind enemy lines, and reconnaissance and artillery observation. Their slow, low-level flight profile also made them vulnerable; deployment in forward areas required local air superiority. In short: utility, not combat.[1]

The IAF’s first dedicated rotary wing unit, raised in 1954 as 104 Helicopter Flight, operated Sikorsky S-55s and later Bell 47 G-3s. The unit’s motto and reputation, “Aapatsu Mitram” (friend in time of distress), reflected its original mandate: casualty evacuation, logistics support, communication, and rescue. The Soviet Mi-4, inducted around 1960, expanded its lift capability and range, but it, too, operated as a workhorse in utility roles rather than as a strike aircraft.[2]

The helicopter entered Indian service as a lifeline, literal and doctrinal, not as a predator. But that would change, and quickly.

II. The Shock That Changed Everything: 1962 and the Need to Fight Back

The decisive pivot from “rescue only” to “armed for survival” did not emerge from theory; it was forced by combat experience during the 1962 Sino-Indian War. In forward areas, helicopters- slow, low-flying, and unarmed- became easy targets. Even air ambulances marked with red crosses were fired upon, shattering any lingering assumptions about battlefield immunity.

Aircrews, unarmed and exposed, felt helpless. A lesson unravelled itself for them: survival could no longer depend on markings or mission type. It would require the ability to fight back.

In the years immediately following 1962, this realisation triggered not just a shift, but a profound institutional awakening within the Indian Air Force. What began as a question of survival: how an unarmed helicopter could endure in contested airspace, quickly grew into something far larger. The experiences of that war had exposed a fundamental flaw in existing assumptions: that helicopters could remain. non-offensive assets on a modern battlefield.

This was a turning point. And this set in motion a chain of innovations that would ultimately transform the very character of the IAF’s rotary-wing fleet…

The great wheels started churning not in headquarters, but in workshops. Across the IAF’s network of Base Repair Depots (BRDs), engineers started experimenting with locally engineered solutions. Facilities such as No. 1 Base Repair Depot (Kanpur)[3]– with its legacy of heavy maintenance and wartime salvage dating back to the Second World War- became centres of innovation.

III. 1965: The Birth of a Revolution

By 1965, this culture of improvisation had matured into operational capability. The Mil Mi-4, originally a utility transport, became the platform on which the IAF conducted its first experiments in helicopter armament.

Crucially, these modifications were not the product of a single location. Evidence points to a distributed engineering effort across major technical hubs. No. 1 Base Repair Depot, Kanpur, is widely credited with the successful integration of 0.5-inch Browning machine guns, repurposed from decommissioned B-24 Liberator aircraft[4]– mounted in a belly-mounted gondola. Alongside this, engineers devised a bomb-release mechanism consisting of a chute with three vertical channels, allowing the release of up to nine 25-pound bombs in quick succession. Once the nine bombs were released, the chutes had to be manually reloaded for subsequent passes.

At the same time, unit-level accounts, particularly from No. 104 Helicopter Unit, also state that their helicopters were modified at Chandigarh for offensive roles.[5]

Given that the Mil Mi-4 was available with factory-configured armament options, it is necessary to examine why the Indian Air Force opted for an unarmed transport variant and how this decision shaped the nature of subsequent indigenous modifications.

The answer lies in procurement philosophy and operational context. India inducted the Mi-4 as a pure transport platform, consciously omitting factory-fitted weaponisation packages, largely due to cost considerations and doctrinal assumptions about helicopter roles in the late 1950s. The Soviet Union, by contrast, had already begun conceptualising helicopters as integral battlefield assets, capable of transitioning from logistics to fire support within a unified design philosophy. What followed in India after 1962 was adaptive innovation under constraint. Where the Soviets engineered vertically integrated assault systems, Indian engineers improvised modular, locally fabricated solutions, repurposing legacy systems such as the B-24 Liberator. The result: a “semi-gunship” born out of necessity, decentralised engineering, and battlefield urgency.[6] [7]

The resulting system was crude but effective. The machine gun, fixed under the belly, was fired forward by a gunner inside the cabin, often lying prone, on the pilot’s command. There were no stabilised sights, no fire-control systems, and only rudimentary aiming. Accuracy was limited, and exposure to ground fire remained high, but for the first time, IAF helicopters possessed an offensive capability.

The First Test: War Comes to the Gunship

The true test of these improvised modifications came sooner than expected. In August 1965, as the Indo-Pak War of 1965 escalated, the Indian Air Force found itself confronting a new kind of threat: large-scale infiltration across the Western Front. In response, the IAF assembled a dedicated helicopter task force: drawing aircraft and crews from 107, 109, and 111 HU. Forward-based at Chandigarh, Jammu, and Srinagar, these units were tasked with something unprecedented: using modified Mil Mi-4s not just to support the battlefield, but to shape it… A significant tactical shift, turning previously passive transport assets into offensive “semi-gunships”.[8]

By August 5, the modified helicopters were operational. Within two weeks, on 20 August, they went into action over the Chhamb sector.

A New Way of Fighting: The Multi-Role Gunship

What followed was not a conventional air operation, but a new method of warfare.

Each helicopter sortie blurred the line between combat and support. A Mi-4 would lift off carrying supplies or ammunition for forward troops. En route to or in the vicinity of its destination, it would descend into an attack run, bombing and strafing suspected infiltrator positions or movement routes (using its rudimentary weapons: the belly-mounted 0.5-inch Browning machine gun and the improvised chute that released the 25-pounder bombs)[9]. There were no targeting systems, no stabilised sights, only coordination between pilot and gunner, and the willingness to fly low and exposed.

After the attack, the same helicopter would land, often in makeshift clearings barely the size of its rotor span, deliver its supplies, load casualties, and lift out again. Additionally, documents such as the official historical record of 107 HU (compiled under HQ, SWAC) detail the additional tasks the units were executing, including facilitating VIP movements, recce, counter-insurgency ops, and troop induction.[10]

In a single mission, the helicopters had become transport, ambulance and gunship.

Across the campaign, from 20 August until the end of the war, these modified Mi-4 ‘semi-gunships’ carried out 79 offensive sorties in the Chhamb-Jaurian sector, specifically targeting infiltrators with bombing and strafing runs.[11]

Yet, these offensive missions were only one part of a much larger operational picture. Records from No. 109 Helicopter Unit illustrate this vividly: the unit alone flew a total of 225 sorties across all assigned roles during the war (including bombing, strafing, CASEVAC, and supply drops).[12] The IAF helicopters had now evolved into a flexible, multi-role instrument of war.

Measured purely in terms of firepower, the results were modest. Small bombs and machine-gun bursts inflicted limited physical damage. But the psychological and tactical effects were disproportionate. For infiltrators moving across difficult terrain, the sudden appearance of armed helicopters, machines previously associated with evacuation and logistics, introduced immediate disruption and fear. Movements slowed. Routes were abandoned. Reports indicate a marked reduction in infiltration activity in areas where these missions were conducted.[13] [14]

For the IAF, the lesson was even more significant: helicopters could survive in contested airspace and fight.

This was, by contemporary IAF testimony and reporting, unique: “never before or since then have helicopters of this class been used in this role in the IAF”- a high-risk, high-ingenuity improvisation that forced planners to reckon with new capabilities and vulnerabilities.[15]

However, these operations were not without leadership and courage. Aircrew flew repeated missions under fire, navigating without modern aids, coordinating attacks by instinct and experience. Squadron Leader B. Johnson of 104 HU, who led from the front during this period, was awarded the Vayu Sena Medal for his “incessant efforts.” In 109 HU, Warrant Officer Sansar Singh became the first from his unit to receive the same honour.

In the final assessment, these missions stood apart. They achieved something far greater than their immediate tactical objectives. A foundation was laid here. In 1965, over the dust and heat of Chhamb, a handful of modified machines and determined crews rewrote the role of the helicopter in the future of Indian air power.

IV. The 1970s: From Makeshift to Missiles- Chetaks, Rockets and the First Attack Units

The improvised approach of 1965 demonstrated two things: helicopters could be weaponised, and improvisation was painfully limited. The next step was systematic adaptation- converting light utility helicopters into anti-armour platforms and training whole units in their employment.

1971: Chetaks with Guns and Rockets

By 1971, the IAF’s Aérospatiale Alouette III (locally called Chetak) had become a common light utility helicopter. BRD workshops modified at least one Chetak by fitting a twin-barrel machine gun and rocket pods capable of firing a volley of rockets (reports say seven rockets arranged for paired or salvo firing), an attempt at a compact self-contained striking unit that could operate at night. This was an important precursor to the formal anti-tank mission: the Chetak proved adaptable, small, and agile enough to carry weapons that made a tactical difference.[16]

1973- 1977: The Tankbusters and the Formal ATGM Role

The success of improvised gunships in 1965 and their continued utility into 1971 had already demonstrated that helicopters could survive and influence combat. But by the early 1970s, the IAF recognised another clear tactical requirement: a highly mobile, responsive platform capable of neutralising enemy armour within the Tactical Battle Area (TBA). Fixed-wing aircraft were fast but less flexible; ground forces were powerful but constrained by terrain.

The helicopter offered something different: precision, mobility, and persistence.

And so, 116 HU was chosen to pioneer this role. With that decision, helicopters were no longer an adjunct to combat; they had become part of the fighting arm.

116 Helicopter Unit

If 1965 proved that helicopters could fight, the transformation of 116 HU in the 1970s proved that they could be designed to hunt.

Formed on 27 July 1967 at Air Force Station Sarsawa, 116 HU began its life like most helicopter units of the era- rooted in support roles. Known then as the ‘Whirly Wizards’, it operated the Mi-4 on tasks such as communications, liaison, and casualty evacuation. There was little to distinguish it doctrinally from other units still shaped by the pre-1962 mindset. That would change, decisively.

In December 1973, the unit underwent a transformation that marked one of the most significant inflexion points in the history of rotary-wing aviation in the Indian Air Force. It was re-equipped with the HAL Chetak and, more importantly, assigned a specialised anti-tank role.

In place of the ‘Whirly Wizards’ emerged ‘The Tankbusters’. A name that reflected a new operational purpose and a new kind of confidence in what helicopters could achieve. It was the first IAF unit adapted specifically to fire anti-tank guided missiles from helicopters.[17]

The shift to an anti-armour role was made possible through a carefully engineered integration of guided weaponry onto a light helicopter platform. And for the first time, an IAF helicopter could:

• • Stand off from enemy armour

  • Track and guide a precision weapon

  • Deliver a lethal strike without closing into direct fire

At the heart of this transformation was the AS-11 missile (SS-11), a wire-guided, command-to-line-of-sight anti-tank missile.

104 Helicopter Unit

In 1977, 104 HU, the oldest IAF helicopter unit, was also re-designated as an ATGM unit. Its Chetaks were modified to carry (the same) four AS-11B (air-launched SS.11/AS.11 family) wire-command guided missiles, providing an effective anti-tank reach of about 3,000 metres.

The AS.11/SS.11 story is worth pausing over. The SS.11 family, developed by France’s Nord Aviation in the 1950s, was one of the earliest widely adopted wire-guided anti-tank missiles. The air-launched AS.11 (sometimes referred to in Indian service variants as AS-11B) came with an air-stable sighting system that made it practical to launch from a helicopter in forward battle conditions; its effective range extended to the order of 3 km, and early warhead variants could penetrate several hundred millimetres of rolled homogeneous armour, sufficient against many Cold War tanks of the era. The family’s adaptability had earlier produced French helicopter-fired ATGM operations in Algeria in the late 1950s and early 1960s- a global precedent India could observe.

But the technology alone was not enough. Pilots underwent intensive training, including dummy and live missile firing, to master guidance techniques, engagement profiles, and battlefield coordination. The units participated in joint Army-Air Force exercises to master tactics for employing these weapons[18]. A new set of tactics was written from scratch because nothing like this had existed in the IAF before.

Other Armament Trials: 119 HU and Display Ranges

Besides those unit conversions, other IAF helicopter units carried out armament trials through the 1970s, experimenting with 57 mm rockets and 75 kg bombs, and integrating rocket and bomb drops into live-fire practices and demonstration events (the IAF’s long-running Fire Power Demonstrations at Tilpat and other ranges were venues where aircraft- fixed and rotary-practised and exhibited armament techniques). The broad pattern of trials, demonstrations and field conversions across units in the 1970s drove doctrine toward formal ATGM wings and greater integration with Army tactics.

V. A Helicopter Becomes a Gunship: Decoding the Changes

You can draw the lineage from a Chetak carrying a handful of rockets to a dedicated attack helicopter like the AH-1 Cobra or a modern Rudra, but the engineering trade-offs are stark and unavoidable. Mounting weapons, pylons or missile rails on a helicopter is not a trivial “bolt-on”: it changes the aircraft’s structure, aerodynamics, flight envelope and survivability.

Airframe and structural work: Hardpoints and rails require reinforced structure where the pylons attach; dynamic loads from rockets and missiles create stress concentrations that utility airframes were not originally designed to handle. Base repair depots that performed early conversions would necessarily evaluate local attachment points, strengthen skin and substructure, and ensure the rotor/drive train would not be overstressed by asymmetric loads. Kanpur’s BRDs, historically the IAF’s major overhaul and repair hubs, were where such modifications were planned and executed.[19]

Weight, balance and flight performance

External pylons increase drag and reduce maximum speed, range and endurance. Payload limits become binding. Adding missile rails and ammunition reduces fuel and troop or casualty capacity and can lower the service ceiling. Pilots and engineers must recompute centre-of-gravity envelopes; an out-of-limits CG can make the helicopter harder to control, particularly at low speed and during hover, when weapons employment is often required. Engineering literature and patents on payload/pylon effects generally show these performance impacts.[20]

Avionics and Sights

A major practical step from improvised guns to guided missiles is the need for stabilised sighting systems. The AS.11 (air variant of SS.11) included a sighting/stabilisation solution enabling a moving helicopter to track a target while guiding the missile along a wire- a huge leap in practical usability compared with an improvised belly gun without proper aiming gear. In short, going from guns to guided missiles requires fire control, sight stabilisation and crew training.

Survivability Modifications

Utility helicopters were notoriously vulnerable to small-arms fire. The US Army and others quickly produced survivability guides in the 1960s–70s that recommended local armour for crew stations, redundancies for critical systems, self-sealing fuel tanks, and tactics that reduced exposure. Many of these lessons are generalisable and would have informed any effort to turn IAF helicopters from evacuation machines into strike platforms- even if the IAF’s early conversions were necessarily minimalistic.

Taken together, weaponising a helicopter is a cascade of changes: from reinforced structure and degraded flight performance to new avionics and a direct need to improve crew protection. Those are engineering realities, not doctrinal choices, and they explain why purpose-designed attack helicopters (or thoroughly rebuilt utility platforms) eventually became the logical endpoint of the ad-hoc path that began in the 1960s.

VI. Global Parallels: India’s Path Followed a Pattern

What happened in India mirrored global lessons. Two parallel strands stand out:

(a)       France and the SS.11/AS.11 experiments: French forces experimented with the SS.11 and AS.11 on light Alouette helicopters and small fixed-wing types in the Algerian conflict in the late 1950s and early 1960s- arguably the first use of a guided anti-tank missile fired from aircraft. Those experiments demonstrated the feasibility of mounting relatively heavy anti-tank firepower on light airframes and provided early engineering solutions (sighting stabilisation, wire guidance) that later users adopted. The AS.11 family’s very existence as an air-launched variant was an early template India could study.

(b)       The US experience: Huey gunships to the AH-1 Cobra: In Vietnam, the UH-1 “Huey” started as a utility ship that rapidly acquired guns and rocket pods as field improvisations (door gunners, gun-pods and rocket racks) to support ground troops. That combat improvisation drove the development of a dedicated attack helicopter, the Bell AH-1 Cobra (first flown 1965; in service 1967), a narrower fuselage, tandem crew, stub wings for ordnance and a purpose-designed gun turret- the archetype of the modern attack helicopter. The Cobra’s development shows the evolutionary path from field-modified utility helicopters to purpose-built attack platforms.[21]

(c)       Soviet Developments: The Soviet Union moved in parallel by adapting transport and assault helicopters with weapons and by eventually fielding purpose-built types (e.g., later the Mi-24 Hind family). The global trend was clear by the late 1960s–1970s: combat conditions had shown both the need for helicopter fire support and the limitations of merely bolting weapons onto utility frames.

India’s story fit into these global contours: early observation and transport roles to field improvisation under fire, to systematic conversions and training, to eventual adoption of missile-armed tactics and later acquisition/development relevant to purpose-built attack rotorcraft.

VII. The Human Element: Workshops, Pilots and the Doctrine Catching Up

Two groups deserve the credit line in any honest account: the technicians who turned theory into hardware and the pilots who trained until the near-impossible became routine.

The IAF’s Base Repair Depots, Kanpur among them, were the sites where real modifications happened: adapting bomb chutes, fabricating mounts, and testing gun pods under operational pressure… The gritty work of skilled maintainers and engineers solving real battlefield problems with what they had.[22]

On the flying side, pilots of early ATGM units, such as 104 HU, trained for months with both dummy and live firings to master the new weapons and the tactics of Army-Air cooperation. The learning curve was steep: missile guidance in a moving, vibrating platform; coordinating with ground forwards; and shaping manoeuvres to expose tanks while minimising vulnerability. The creation of unit identities- the Tankbusters, the Desert Hawks- shows a doctrinal as well as cultural metamorphosis inside IAF squadrons.

VIII. Where the 1970s Left Off. And What Followed

What began as improvisation under fire did not remain improvisation for long. The lessons of 1962 forced a reckoning; the experiments of 1965 revealed a possibility; and the structured developments of the 1970s turned that possibility into doctrine.

By the end of that decade, the Indian Air Force had crossed a decisive threshold. The helicopters were no longer merely a lifeline to the battlefield; they had become a participant in it… Precision platforms that could reach out three kilometres and threaten enemy armour from unexpected axes.

But the deeper story is not about machines. It is about a shift in thinking.

What emerged from those years was a profound realisation: that vulnerability could be engineered out, survivability could be designed in, and that even the most unlikely platform could be reshaped into a weapon system through necessity and ingenuity.

Today, that lineage is visible in indigenous platforms such as the HAL Prachand, India’s first purpose-built combat helicopter, designed for high-altitude warfare and capable of anti-armour and multi-role strike missions, and in the weaponised HAL Rudra, where sensors, guns, rockets and guided missiles are fully integrated into a single combat system. The ongoing integration of indigenous systems such as the HELINA anti-tank guided missiles further underscores how far that journey has progressed.

From the workshops of Kanpur and Chandigarh, to crude gun mounts and hand-released bombs, to pilots flying low over Chhamb, discovering in real time what their aircraft could become, the helicopter in the Indian Air Force was not designed to be a predator.

It was compelled to become one.

And in that compulsion, in that adaptation, lies one of the most consequential and least acknowledged revolutions in Indian air power.

*****

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Notes:

[1] Indian Air Force, Government of India, “History,” https://afcat.cdac.in/AFCAT/iafHistory. Accessed on October 12, 2025.

[2] “No. 104 Helicopter Unit,” Bharat Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/units/104%2BHU. Accessed on November 03, 2025.

[3] “No. 1 Base Repair Depot,” Bharat Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/units/1%2BBRD. Accessed on December 09, 2025.

[4] Historical and Air Warrior Studies Cell, College of Air Warfare, Firebirds: 104 Helicopter Sqn, 48 (Secunderabad: HAWS, 2017-18), p. 15.

[5] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, “BRIEF HISTORY OF 104 (H) SQN (Formation and First Mission),” Official Unit History (221.pdf). Accessed on December 20, 2025.

[6] Ibid.

[7] BS Nijjar, “Evolution of IAF Helicopters- I: Inception To 1971 Operations,” Air Power Journal, vol. 11, no. 3, Monsoon (July-September) 2016.

[8] Arunav Sinha, “Silent but resilient: IAF choppers fought 1965 war,” The Times of India, October 02, 2015, https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/lucknow/silent-but-resilient-iaf-choppers-fought-1965-war/articleshow/49189186.cms. Accessed on October 28, 2025.

[9] History of No. 107 HU. AIR FORCE, “Operations,” History of IAF:107 HU (209.pdf). Accessed on January 28, 2025.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Nijjar, n. 7, p.174.

[12] Historical and Air Warrior Studies Cell, College of Air Warfare, Units of the IAF, vol. 22, 109 HU, Air Force (Secunderabad, Historical and Air Warrior Studies Cell, College of Air Warfare, 2013), p.20.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Sinha, n. 8.

[15] Ibid.

[16] GlobalSecurity.org, “HAL Chetak,” https://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/india/chetak.htm. Accessed on November 21, 2025.

[17] “No. 116 Helicopter Unit,” Bharat Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/units/116%2BHU. Accessed on December 17, 2025.

[18] Bharat Rakshak, n. 2.

[19] Bharat Rakshak, n. 3.

[20] “Helicopter weapon system (CN1628053A),” Google Patents, https://patents.google.com/patent/CN1628053A/en. Accessed on November 08, 2025.

[21] Stephen Joiner, “Birth of the Cobra,” Smithsonian Magazine, August 2017, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/air-space-magazine/13_aug2017-birth-of-the-cobra-180963930/. Accessed on December 03, 2025.

[22] Warbirds India, “Kanpur,” https://www.warbirds.in/uttarpradesh/kanpur. Accessed on October 25, 2025.

The post Born to Save, Pressed to Kill: How IAF Helicopters Became Tankbusters appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: Indian Air Force, Flight-Testing, Military Aviation Technology, Institutional Development

Introduction

Established on October 08, 1932, the Indian Air Force (IAF) has evolved from a small auxiliary air arm into one of the most technologically sophisticated components of the Indian defence establishment.[1] On April 01, 1933, the IAF’s first operational flight took to the skies with six Royal Air Force (RAF)-trained officers and 19 Havai Sepoys in four Westland Wapiti IIA biplanes.[2] Post-independence, the IAF underwent rapid expansion as India sought to strengthen its airpower capabilities in response to emerging strategic challenges in the neighbourhood. The IAF inducted its first single-engine powered jet, named de Havilland Vampire, in 1948, which was of British origin.[3] The increasing complexity of aviation technology significantly expanded the technical demands associated with aircraft induction, maintenance and operational deployment within the IAF.[4]

Despite the technological evolution in the country, much of the existing scholarship on the IAF has primarily focused on operational history, aircraft acquisitions and broader defence policy developments. While these studies provide valuable insights into the growth of air power, there has been little attention paid to the institutional mechanisms that enabled the testing and evaluation of newly inducted aircraft and the modification of aircraft with advanced avionics or weapon systems to enhance their operational capabilities. Hence, the safe and effective integration of increasingly complex aviation systems required systematic procedures for performance evaluation and operational certification. The reliance on foreign testing arrangements or informal evaluation processes often proved insufficient, in the absence of such institutional frameworks.[5]

This article examines the way the IAF gradually addressed this challenge in the early decades after India’s independence in 1947. It argues that the technological expansion (after the induction of the first jet aircraft, Vampire) exposed the limitations of ad hoc testing arrangements and led the IAF to develop an indigenous institutional framework for flight-testing, beginning with the establishment of the Aircraft Testing Unit (ATU) in 1948 and evolving into more structured establishments in subsequent years.[6]

The Technological Transformation of the Indian Air Force

Technological transformation within the IAF was witnessed post-independence. Initially established with a limited fleet and operational responsibilities, it gradually expanded its role in response to emerging strategic challenges and the growing importance of airpower in modern warfare.[7] As India started strengthening its defence capacity after 1947, the air force also began acquiring a wide range of aircraft to enhance its operational effectiveness and technological capacity in the region.

By 1950, the IAF had six fighter squadrons equipped with aircraft like Spitfires, Vampires and Tempests, which were being operated from Kanpur, Poona, Ambala, and Palam, alongside one B-24 bomber squadron, one C-47 Dakota transport squadron and a communications squadron at Palam.[8] However, the acquisition of jet aircraft increased the complexity in aircraft operations and evaluation. These systems required rigorous assessment of performance characteristics, system reliability and operational suitability before they could be integrated into the service safely.

At the same time, the institutional framework of India’s defence establishment was still evolving. In the early years after independence, India sought to strengthen its defence capabilities by acquiring modern military technologies. The problem here, however, was that the institutional systems required to evaluate and support these technologies were still evolving.[9]

Within this context, the modernisation of the IAF needed to meet new demands for systematic evaluation mechanisms which should be capable of assessing aircraft performance under Indian conditions.

The Institutional Gap in Aircraft Testing

While the technological transformation of the IAF enhanced its operational capabilities, it also exposed a significant institutional challenge. There was no structured framework for the systematic testing and evaluation of newly inducted aircraft in the country. In the early decades after India’s independence, aircraft acquired by the IAF were tested and certified largely by manufacturers or foreign air forces before delivery. Although such external evaluations provided only a baseline assessment of aircraft performance, they did not always account for the specific operational conditions under which these aircraft would be flown. Differences in climate, infrastructure, operational doctrine and logistical systems meant that aircraft would require additional evaluation to determine their suitability for service in India.

This challenge was deepened by the broader institutional context of India’s defence establishment during the early post-independence period. Defence procurement frequently proceeded in response to immediate operational needs of that time, while the institutional mechanisms which were required to support advanced military technologies were still in their developing stage. As scholars have noted, the early defence policy environment often reflected a pattern where technological acquisitions went ahead of the organisational capacity required to sustain them effectively.[10] Within the aviation domain, this imbalance clearly meant that the IAF had to operate those jet aircraft without a fully developed domestic system for testing and technical evaluation.

The evolution of maintenance frameworks within the IAF during the early decades after independence reflected the need for structured technical oversight and systematic evaluation procedures.[11] As aviation technology became more complex, these limitations highlighted the importance of developing an indigenous institutional capability for flight-testing within the IAF.

The Emergence of Indigenous Flight-Testing Capability

The increasing technological complexity and the limitations of foreign dependent testing of aircraft gradually pushed the IAF toward developing an indigenous institution. The first step in this direction came with the creation of the ATU under the command of Wing Commander H Moolgavkar, established to test the newly inducted fighter jet, the de Havilland Vampire, which was acquired from the United Kingdom.[12] The ATU was tasked with conducting flight- testing and evaluation of the aircraft within the IAF’s operational context. The establishment of this unit represented the first formal attempt by the IAF to move beyond ad hoc testing practices and develop an indigenous mechanism for assessing aircraft performance.

The establishment of ATU marked an important institutional shift in India. Instead of relying completely on foreign certification, the Air Force created a domestic capability to test foreign-procured aircraft under local environmental and operational conditions. Such testing was critical for identifying technical limitations, evaluating operational suitability, and ensuring safety during induction into service.

As the IAF continued to modernise during the 1950s, the scope of flight-testing expanded significantly. The introduction of newer aircraft, such as the Dassault Ouragan (Toofani) and Hawker Hunter, created additional demands for systematic evaluation. Recognising these new requirements, the Aircraft and Armament Testing Unit (A&ATU) was established in 1957 in Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh, under the command of Squadron Leader Bhopinder Singh.[13] It increased the scope of testing activities to include aircraft systems, armament integration, and operational trials. Over time, this expansion of testing responsibilities reflected that flight-testing was both a technical task and a critical component of managing technological risk in modern aviation. The gradual development of this capability laid the foundation for the further institutionalisation of flight-testing within the Indian Air Force.

Institutionalisation of Flight-Testing in the Indian Air Force

The increase in flight-testing activities in the 1950s and 1960s eventually transformed flight- testing into a more structured institutional capability. As aviation technology advanced, the evaluation of aircraft required specialised technical experts who could analyse the performance of the aircraft and the systems’ behaviour alongside skilled pilots. This growing difficulty again highlighted the need for a more comprehensive approach to flight-testing that combined operational flying experience with systematic technical analysis.

In response to these new requirements, the A&ATU was transformed into the Aircraft and Systems Testing Establishment (ASTE) in 1972 and shifted to Bengaluru in the state of Karnataka.[14] The reorganisation reflected the indigenous scope of flight-testing because aircraft systems and weapons integration became central aspects of aviation capability. ASTE was tasked with conducting a wide range of testing activities, such as performance evaluation, systems trials, and operational assessments of newly introduced aircraft and equipment.

Simultaneously, the increasing complexity of testing activities required specialised professionals within the testing ecosystem. Apart from test pilots, flight test engineers also began to play an important role in analysing aircraft systems. They combined their engineering expertise with operational knowledge and ensured that aircraft were evaluated rigorously before entering service.[15] The emergence of such professionals indicates that flight-testing had gradually evolved into a structured institutional process. Through ASTE, the IAF gradually developed the organisational capability required to manage the technological challenges of the complex modern military aviation.

Conclusion

The early decades of the IAF reveal the increasing technological complexity in airpower and how it created new institutional challenges that could not be addressed by relying on informal or foreign testing of aircraft. As the IAF procured advanced aircraft, the limitations of the ad hoc testing system became outdated. The need to test aircraft performance, system reliability, and operational suitability under Indian conditions pushed the Air Force to develop its own flight-testing capability. The establishment of the ATU in 1948 marked the first institutional response to this challenge, followed by the expansion into the A&ATU in 1957 and then the ASTE in 1972. It reflected a mature effort to create a structured framework for evaluating complex aviation technologies. The evolution of flight-testing within the IAF shows how technological change can drive towards the development of new institutional capabilities, which are essential for the effective functioning of the air force.

*****

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Notes:

[1] Press Information Bureau, Government of India, “The Story of the Indian Air Force: A Journey Through Time,” October 07, 2024, https://www.pib.gov.in/PressNoteDetails.aspx?NoteId=153257&ModuleId=3. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

[2] Ibid

[3] Indian Air Force Historical and Warrior Studies Cell, Aircraft and Systems Testing Establishment (Secunderabad: College of Air Warfare, 2006), p. 3.

[4] Arjun Subramaniam, India’s Wars: A Military History 1947–1971 (Gurugram: HarperCollins, 2026), pp. 86-101.

[5] Chris Smith, India’s Ad Hoc Arsenal: Direction or Drift in Defence Policy? (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), p. 57.

[6] Indian Air Force Historical and Warrior Studies Cell n. 3, p. 3

[7] Press Information Bureau, n. 1.

[8] Ibid

[9] Smith, n. 5,

[10] Ibid., pp. 62-66.

[11] Anchit Gupta, “Invisible Architecture: How the IAF Lost and Found Its Maintainance Logic,” Indian Air Force History, January 12, 2026, https://iafhistory.in/2026/01/12/iaf-maintenance-framework-1947-1966/. Accessed on March 05, 2026.

[12] Indian Air Force Historical and Warrior Studies Cell, n. 3 p. 5

[13] Ibid. p. 5

[14] Ibid., p. 11.

[15] Malteesh Prabhu, “Evolution of the Flight Test Engineer,” Society of Flight Test Engineers, April 16, 2021, https://www.sfte-india.in/evolution-of-the-flight-test-engineer/. Accessed on March 04, 2026.

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Keywords: Air Marshal AD Joshi, Indian Air Force, MiG-23BN, No.221 Squadron Valiants, N0.27 Squadron Flaming Arrows, Strategic Forces Command India

Introduction

Air Marshal Avinash Deodatta Joshi, PVSM, VM (Retd) (December 20, 1946 – February 23, 2025), was a distinguished officer of the Indian Air Force (IAF). His career, which spanned over 39 years, was filled with not just personal accomplishments, but several moments that shaped how the IAF would strategise and fight campaigns. From being a young Pilot Officer during the 1971 war, to undertaking several key missions as the Flight Commander (Flt Cdr) and Officer Commanding (OC) of a MiG-23BN squadron, to being the Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C) of the Strategic Forces Command, this article highlights the journey of Air Marshal ‘Joe’ (as his peers nicknamed him) in the IAF, and more so, his contributions to the MiG-23 fleet. As we strive towards the goal of ‘Atmanirbhar Bharat’ and self-sufficiency in defence production, it is important to note that the IAF, from 1948 till now, continues to drive the growth of India’s aeronautical industry and will continue to do so.

Biography

Background and Personal Life

Air Marshal Joshi was born on December 20, 1946, in Poona (Pune) to Mr Deodatta Vinayak Joshi and Mrs Sudha Joshi. His father retired as a Chief Engineer in the Military Engineering Service (MES). He was the third of five children, two sisters and four brothers. Owing to his father’s profession, the family moved frequently, and he pursued his education at several institutions in Poona, Visakhapatnam, Cochin, and Nagpur. Throughout his school days, he had a passion for the Defence Services and was part of the National Cadet Corps (NCC), with both Army and Navy Wings at different times. He married Mrs Geetanjali in 1970, and together, they were blessed with three daughters. Apart from his passion for the IAF, he had a deep affinity towards music and was very compassionate towards animals. He also extensively played golf post-retirement. ^{[1] [2]}

Career in the IAF

Initial Career

When he completed his matriculation, he opted to pursue higher studies in medicine; however, in the immediate aftermath of the 1962 Sino-Indian war, he found himself being drawn to a prospective career in the IAF. He began his training on November 16, 1964, at the Air Force Administrative College, Coimbatore, in the 97^th Pilot Course. Soon thereafter, he undertook his flying training at No. 5 Elementary Flying Training Unit (EFTU), Nagpur, where he undertook training on the Stinson L-5 aircraft. He set a record at 5 EFTU for completing the quickest solo, only after 7h 30m flying time. However, around this period (April-September 1965), flying training was temporarily suspended due to the ensuing Indo-Pakistan conflict. ^{[3] [4] [5]}

Once the 1965 war ended, training continued, but this time from Pilot Training Establishment (PTE), Bamrauli (Prayagraj). He set another record there, by flying his first solo on the Hindustan HT-2 aircraft, on his second sortie and only 1h 45m on the type; and was eventually awarded the “Best in Flying Trophy.” Post PTE, he was posted to the Air Force Flying College at Jodhpur, where he flew the T-6 Texan and stood third in the course. He opted for the fighter stream and proceeded to the Fighter Training Wing (FTW) in Hakimpet, where he flew the De Havilland Vampire aircraft and won the “Best in Flying” trophy. He was commissioned into the IAF on June 04, 1967, and his first posting was to No. 220 Squadron ‘Desert Tigers’ at Pune for Operational Conversion. In April 1968, he was posted to No. 27 Squadron ‘Flaming Arrows’, which was at Halwara, flying the Hawker Hunter F.56A. Incidentally, this posting would be one of his longest postings, as he remained in the squadron until June 1974 (6 years 2 months). Initial conversion on the type happened at a slow pace owing to high pilot count in the squadron; however, the process stabilised in early 1969. ^{[6] [7]}

Participation in the 1971 War

A few months ahead of the 1971 hostilities, Flying Officer A.D. Joshi and a few of his squadron mates had just returned from leave, only to find that his squadron had moved to Pathankot, as there was a speculation of war breaking out shortly. Upon moving to Pathankot and resuming training, on the evening of October 14, 1971, the entire squadron and its crew were mobilised to Ambala, in speculation of a commando raid by Pakistani special forces that evening (which was later found to be a false alarm). The squadron remained in Ambala until October 20. In November, the squadron was temporarily tasked for ‘Night-Strike’, but soon reverted to regular flying before the war commenced. ^[8]

In the last week of November, Flying Officer Joshi was appointed as the Range Safety Officer (RSO) of Sidhwan Khas range near Halwara, on temporary duty. He was to return to Pathankot on December 04, 1971; however, war broke out the day prior. The next morning, he departed for Pathankot and arrived there the same evening. Starting December 05, until the squadron’s eventual move to Hindan on December 12, he undertook active combat missions.

The missions flown by him included one Close Air Support (CAS) sortie on December 5, two Combat Air Patrols (CAPs) over Samba on the afternoon of December 6; one CAP over Chumb on December 7, one Search & Strike mission in Chumb on December 8, and one CAS sortie in Chumb on December 10.* ^{[9] [10] [11]} Sometime during the war, Pakistan resorted to using propaganda to declare Indian pilots as captured/Killed In Action (KIA) as part of their psychological warfare campaign. One such false announcement was made on Pakistani radio that Flying Officer Joshi had been captured! For his actions in the 1971 war, he was Mentioned-in-Despatches (M-in-D), which was officially announced on June 23, 1972.^{[12] [13]}

[* List of missions flown during the 1971 war by Fg Offr AD Joshi is not complete]

Career Post 1971 War

On June 04, 1972, he was promoted to Flight Lieutenant. Flight Lieutenant Joshi was awarded Air Officer Command-in-Chief (AOC-in-C) commendation (Western Air Command, WAC) for his performance in No. 27 Squadron. ^[14] From July to December 1974, he completed the Advanced Permanent Flight Instructor’s Course (59 APFIC) at Air Force Station (AFS) Tambaram. ^[15] He served as a flying instructor in Dundigal from December 1974 to June 1976. He was awarded an AOC-in-C commendation (from Training Command this time) for successfully handling three separate emergencies on the HJT-16 Kiran aircraft.

After completing his instructor tenure, he was posted to No.37 Squadron ‘Panthers’, which flew the Haunter F.56, at Kalaikunda in July 1976. The unit was akin to an Operational Conversion Unit for the type. He took part in the Republic Day Parade flypast of 1977. In February that year, the squadron converted to the MiG-21M (Type 96), and moved from KKD to Adampur. He was made the Adjutant, ensuring discipline and orderly affairs within the squadron, and ensured smooth relocation despite the difficult logistics of moving from the east to the west. ^[16]

During that tenure, he played a crucial role in introducing valley flying and combat procedures for operations in the Greater Himalayas region and also conducted night flying trials from Awantipora and Srinagar (during the moon phase), for which he was again awarded the WAC AOC-in-C Commendation. He also took part in the fly-past at Halwara when Prince Charles visited India. The fly-past consisted of 19 aircraft, which were flying the “I.A.F” formation (aircraft of Nos. 101, 37, 108 squadrons flying the letters respectively). The same was also carried out in the limited Republic Day fly-past in 1978. He remained in the squadron’s roster until March 1982. ^{[17] [18]} He was part of the 19 FCL (Fighter Combat Leader) Course from the Tactics and Air Combat Development Establishment (TACDE), from December 1980 to March 1981. ^[19] Upon returning to the squadron, he was appointed Squadron Flight Safety Officer (SFSO). ^[20]

From January 1990 to March 1991, he was the Command Air Defence Officer (CADO), WAC; during which he implemented new ideas and brought all Surface-to-Air Guided Missile Units (SAGUs) from non-operational to operational status within six months. In March 1991, he was posted to the College of Combat, Mhow, where he completed his High Command course. After the HC Course, He was posted as the Station Commander of 5 Forward Base Support Unit (5 FBSU) at Uttarlai on April 21, 1992. On July 01, 1994, he was posted as a directing staff member to the College of Combat. ^[21]

High Command Postings

On being promoted as Air Commodore, he was posted to AFS Bidar as the Air Officer Commanding (AOC) on February 01, 1996. He raised the now-famous Surya Kiran Aerobatic Team (SKAT) on May 27, 1996, and has flown the maximum hours on the Kiran MK IA and MK II by any AOC and has flown with the Surya Kirans. In January 1998, he underwent the 47-week staff college course at National Defence College (38 NDC), after which he was posted as the Deputy Commandant of College of Air Warfare at Secunderabad on December 28, 1998. ^[22]

Upon being promoted as Air Vice Marshal on August 06, 2001, he was posted as Assistant Chief of Air Staff, Directorate of Inspection and Flight Safety (ACAS, Inspection and FS), and later on November 01, 2002, as ACAS (Personnel Officers) at Air Headquarters (HQ). During this period, he also completed a staff course on national security in Israel. On being promoted as Air Marshal on January 02, 2004, he took over as the Senior Air Staff Officer, South Western Air Command (SASO, SWAC) for a short tenure of only 10 months, followed by another short tenure of nine months as the AOC-in-C, Eastern Air Command, from November 2004 to August 2005, during which he brought about several administrative reforms to improve the operational readiness of the command, as well as raising the morale of the personnel. ^[23]

On August 22, 2005, he was posted as the C-in-C of Strategic Forces Command, which would be his last posting in uniform. He was awarded the Param Visisht Seva Medal (PVSM) on January 26, 2006 and made Honorary Aide-de-Camp (Hon. ADC) to the then President of India, Dr APJ Abdul Kalam. He superannuated on December 31, 2006. ^[24]

Contributions to the Flogger Family

In September 1981, Squadron Leader AD Joshi was selected to undergo conversion onto the MiG-23BN in the USSR. During the procurement of MiG-23 aircraft in the early 1980s, the IAF sent four separate groups of pilots and technical officers to the USSR for conversion. The sequence was as follows:

(a)   First MiG-23BN Group of 14 officers went to the USSR under the leadership of then Wing Commander Rattan Lal Bamzai from October 1980 to March 1981. This group formed the backbone of No. 10 Squadron ‘Flying Daggers’, which converted to the type in April 1981.

(b)    Second MiG-23BN Group, comprising 16 officers under the leadership of Wing Commander Hemant Vishnu Khatu, went to the USSR in October 1981 and remained there until March 1982. These officers formed the nucleus of the MiG-23 conversion of Nos. 220 Squadron ‘Desert Tigers’ and 221 Squadron ‘Valiants’ in 1982.

(c)    First MiG-23MF group of 12 officers under the leadership of Wing Commander Inder Jit Singh Boparai, arrived along with the second MiG-23BN group in October 1981. This group formed the No. 223 Squadron ‘First Swing Wing Interceptors’ (later renamed ‘Tridents’ in 1989).

(d)     Second MiG-23MF group of 10 officers under the leadership of Wing Commander Reynolds Andrew Massey, arrived in October 1982 and remained until March 1983, forming No. 224 Squadron ‘Warlords’.[25]

The officers who were part of the second MiG-23BN group were:

(a)        Wg Cdr Hemant Vishnu Khatu

(b)       Sqn Ldr Avinash Deodatta Joshi

(c)       Sqn Ldr Vinod Kumar Arora

(d)       Sqn Ldr Bhushan Nilkanth Gokhale

(e)       Sqn Ldr Anil Thapar

(f)        Sqn Ldr Ranjit Singh Pannu

(g)       Sqn Ldr Syed Mohammed Ghouse

(h)       Sqn Ldr Melvinder Singh Grewal

(j)         Flt Lt Vijay Kumar Sharma

(k)        Flt Lt Nalluri Motilal

(l)        Flt Lt Tapan Kumar Chatterjee

(m)      Flt Lt Devinder Singh

(o)       Flt Lt Pradeep Singh

(p)       Flt Lt Subramanyam Sukumar

(q)       Flt Lt Tarun Kumar Varma

(r)       Sqn Ldr Sashanka Shekhar Roychoudhary AE(M)[26]

The group reported to Air HQ on October 09, 1981, and took off for the USSR on October 13. Upon reaching Moscow, the group remained there for two days before heading off to Frunze, Kyrgyz SSR. From Frunze, the pilots took a train to Lugovoy in the Kazakh SSR. The training regiment at Lugovoy had a strength of 12 combat (MiG-23MF and/or BN) and 20 training (MiG-23 UB) aircraft. ^[27] It is to be noted that only the pilots received their ground subjects and flying training in Lugovoy, and the MCF for Tech Offers happened at Frunze itself.

At Lugovoy, the pilots were stationed at «Гостиница Дружба» (Gostinitsa “Druzhba” or “Friendship Hotel”), which was a dormitory setup for all international pilots. Apart from the Indians themselves, the ‘hotel’ also housed other nationalities at that time, such as Algerians, Cubans, Iraqis, Libyans, etc. Owing to the wintertime, flying activity was heavily restricted. However, Wing Commander Khatu had internally divided the group amongst Squadron Leader AD Joshi and Squadron Leader SM Ghouse to prepare for an informal presentation as a means to keep the group occupied: using the study materials provided by the Soviets, one group had to come up with a case study of potential use of the MiG-23BN for CAS, while the other group had to make one for Offensive Counter Air (OCA) missions. Although this was just a ‘mental exercise’, the presentation would eventually go on to shape how the MiG-23BN would subsequently be used in the IAF. ^{[28] [29]}

Flying resumed on days when the weather became clear, but was highly restricted to basic fighter handling only (see our article on the ejection of Air Vice Marshal Pradeep Singh in the USSR for more information). ^[30] However, Wing Commander Khatu found that to be insufficient, and an appeal was made to the Indian Embassy in Moscow for some weapon-handling sorties as well. ^{[31] [32]} Eventually, three of the 15 pilots received one odd weapon-handling sortie on the MiG-23UB: Wing Commander HV Khatu and Squadron Leaders AD Joshi and SM Ghouse. ^[33]

A similar issue was also faced for the pilot’s flying gear, which had to be returned to the inventory store at the base after use; however, an appeal was made to the Indian Embassy. Wing Commander Khatu had personally gone to Moscow to meet then AOC-in-C WAC (later Chief of Air Staff) Air Marshal L.M. Katre, to make his appeal, and sure enough, the pilots were issued new flying gear, which was shipped back to India once training was completed. ^{[34] [35] [36]}

Squadron Leader Joshi also managed to get his first solo on the MiG-23BN in a record three sorties (one dual check on MiG-23UB, one solo on the MiG-23UB and direct first flight on the MiG-23BN). ^[37]

Training was completed by the third week of February, minus four pilots who hadn’t completed their training (this was when AVM Pradeep Singh ejected). The team departed Lugovoy at the end of February and stayed in Moscow for over a week, and returned to India in the first week of March 1982. Soon after, the No. 221 Squadron designations were posted to Halwara, where the squadron would be based. Squadron Leader Joshi was made the Deputy Flight Commander.

The first batch of Soviet-trained unit officers (Sqn Ldrs Joshi, Arora, Gokhale, Thapar, and Pannu, and Flight Lieutenants Sharma, Motilal, and Chatterjee) reported to Halwara on March 06. Routine operations resumed thereafter. On October 02, 1983, Squadron Leader Joshi was made the Senior Flight Commander of the squadron, taking over from Squadron Leader MD Khanna. ^{[38] [39]}

‘Valiants’ and the Himalayas

In early 1984, as tensions in the Siachen Glacier were rising, the IAF decided to activate the air base at Leh with fighter aircraft. While the SEPECAT Jaguar was the top-of-the-line ground attack aircraft of the IAF at that time, its lack of adequate engine thrust made its deployment unfeasible, so the IAF turned to its next best option: the MiG-23BN. Air Marshal Subramaniam Raghavendran, then SASO-WAC, requested Wing Commander Khatu to work around this deployment. It was soon discovered that for the MiG-23BN to operate from airfields above 3km ASL, the aircraft turbostarter required a modified valve. Interestingly, a corresponding cutaway diagram of the valve was provided in the aircraft manual; however, no inventory was supplied for the same by the Soviets. ^{[40] [41] [42]}

With the help of the Squadron Technical Officer, Squadron Leader P.S. Subramanian, a similar valve was locally manufactured, and three aircraft of the squadron were modified to carry out this operation.^[43] Initial overshoot trials were carried out from Pathankot, primarily by Wing Commander Khatu and Squadron Leader Joshi. Soon after, operations were conducted from Awantipora, with continued overshoots of Leh. Once the required permissions were obtained, Squadron Leader Joshi was tasked to undertake the landing at Leh. On May 23, 1984, Squadron Leader Joshi successfully carried out a solo landing at Leh. However, due to poor weather, turnaround was only possible the next day. Squadron Leader Joshi eventually became the first MiG-23 pilot to land at Leh! ^{[44] [45] [46]}

Upon his return, he was personally congratulated by Air Marshal Raghavendran. In the months that followed, several landings and trials were carried out, in various weapon load-out configurations, to operationalise the aircraft at Leh. Between 1984 and 1986, the squadron also carried out a plethora of activities in the region:

(a)    The squadron conducted several Photo Reconnaissance/Fighter Reconnaissance missions of the Siachen region and parts of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK), as part of Op Meghdoot; the exact details of which are still classified.

(b)   The Valiants activated two armament ranges in Jammu & Kashmir, namely Toshe Maidan (Kashmir) and Kar Tso (Leh-Ladakh).

(c)    The squadron was at the forefront of integrating new reconnaissance technology, such as the Infrared Line Scanning (IRLS) pods on the MiG-23BN and developing the operational doctrine for their use in high altitude regions.

All these activities, along with the combined efforts of the squadron officers and men, eventually led to the Valiants becoming the ‘High Altitude Specialists’ amongst the MiG-23BN squadrons. This eventually bore fruit when the squadron became one of the first to be deployed during Op Safed Sagar (Kargil Conflict), wherein it performed exceedingly well. [You can read about the employment of MiG-23BNs in Kargil in our interview with Air Commodore Ashit Mehta (Retd)]

On September 21, 1984, Squadron Leader Joshi was promoted to the rank of Wing Commander and was posted out to 11 Base Repair Depot (11 BRD) to conduct an air test of 36 MiG-23BNs, which were assembled from Knocked Down Kits (KDKs) supplied by the USSR. ^{[47] [48]} After his term at 11 BRD, he assumed command of the ‘Valiants’ from Wing Commander Khatu on April 18, 1985. On August 26, 1985, the squadron achieved 100 per cent serviceability and flew all 16 aircraft on the same day at the same time, which is considered to be a very significant achievement. ^{[49] [50]} In the third quarter, the squadron carried out the first trials of 100 kg bombs at Toshe Maidan successfully. ^{[51] [52]}

On August 13, 1986, Wing Commander Joshi and Senior Flight Commander, Squadron Leader V.K. Sharma, carried out Kh-23 guided missile trials at Pokhran. A total of six missiles were fired, of which one destroyed the target fully, four destroyed the target partially, and one missile went dud. ^{[53] [54]} During the Red Alert of early 1987, the squadron was placed on high alert and was constantly carrying out detachments and exercises. The squadron also undertook activities towards Op Meghdoot during this period, which involved flying reconnaissance missions very close to the PoK. Despite the dangers involved in these missions, he personally volunteered to lead them, and flew along with his Snr Flt Cdr, Sqn Ldr P.S. Bhangu. There have also been classified missions in which he volunteered to fly solo, without a wingman, owing to the dangers involved. For his exceptional leadership capabilities and professionalism, he was awarded the Vayusena Medal on January 26, 1988. ^[55]  On May 17, 1987, Wing Commander Joshi handed over command to Wing Commander BN Gokhale.

During his tenure as the Station Commander of Uttarlai, he introduced many changes and resurrected two underground Ops Rooms that had been damaged due to floods. He cleared a number of operational blast pens, housing projects and modifications to some projects to avoid flooding and damage, which made a difference to the station later. The base became a recurring Op Location for the MiG-23 and MiG-27 during that period. In honour of his contributions to the station, one of the housing enclaves has been named after him (Joshi Enclave). ^{[56] [57]}

Lengpui Airport is situated in the Mamit District of Mizoram. The airport was constructed as a civilian airport in 1995 by the Government of Mizoram to serve as the airport for Aizawl, the state’s capital. The airport is situated atop a ‘table-top’ feature and has streams flowing by the side of the feature, surrounding it from all sides, making the approach to the runway very tricky. On August 08, 2001, No. 22 Squadron ‘Swifts’ deployed a 4+1 aircraft detachment to perform a landing at Lengpui. The ‘Swifts’ became the first ever Indian fighter squadron to not just operate from Lengpui Airport, but from Mizoram. ^[58] As the AOC-in-C, EAC, Air Marshal Joshi continued to operationalise this vital airport, strengthening the IAF’s presence in the region. ^[59] From July 2005 until his superannuation on December 31, 2006, he remained the Commodore Commandant of the ‘Valiants’ Squadron.

Memoriam

Unfortunately, Air Marshal AD Joshi passed away in Pune, in the early hours of February 23, 2025, after a long struggle with a terminal illness. Colleagues, be it superiors, contemporaries or subordinates, and kith and kin of the late Air Marshal, remember him as a down-to-earth individual. Although he was soft spoken otherwise, he is considered to be a thorough professional and a task master, often being very strict and discipline-oriented. He praised when deserved but was also quite punishing when the hour demanded. He ensured that whatever task was to be completed was undertaken with utmost diligence and sincerity, with no room for any mishap. This attitude is clearly reflected in his nearly forty years of stellar service in the IAF, which were marked by numerous accomplishments.

NOTE: Special thanks to the colleagues and family of the late Air Marshal AD Joshi for helping with this piece by providing materials from their personal collection. Also noteworthy is the series of online interviews conducted by Ex-Sgt T Bhogeshwar Rao and Ex-JWO Chandra Pathak with him, which is perhaps the most exhaustive online biography of the late Air Marshal.

*****

CLICK TO VIEW PDF

Notes:

[1] Family of Air Marshal Avinash Deodatta Joshi, unpublished biographical note provided to the author, January 23, 2026.

[2] T Bhogeswar Rao (TBR 22A118PS001), “Air Marshal Avinash D Joshi PVSM VM Mention-In-Despatch (R) SPEAKS Part 1/1,” YouTube, July 7, 2021, https://youtu.be/0_fqDuM1HAM?si=Fv48tPzIgBKyn9_o.

[3] N. 1.

[4] Rao, n. 2.

[5] “Service Record for Air Marshal Avinash Deodatta Joshi,” Bharat-Rakshak,https://bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/10886. Accessed on January 24, 2026.

[6] N. 1.

[7] Rao, n. 2.

[8] Ibid.

[9]  T Bhogeswar Rao (TBR 22A118PS001), “Air Marshal Avinash D Joshi PVSM VM Mention-In-Despatch (R) SPEAKS Part 1/2,” YouTube, July 7, 2021, https://youtu.be/kMUnqlKpvSw?si=bk97g5l5ayDVe7JZ.

[10] Satyajit Lall, 1971: Strategy, Campaign & Valor (New Delhi: Sabre & Quill Publishers, August 2024), p. 191.

[11] Air Marshal Vikram Singh, Because of This: A History of the Indo-Pak Air War of December 1971 (New Delhi: Manohar Publishers & Distributors, June 17, 2025), p. 78.

[12]  Rao, n. 9.

[13] Bharat-Rakshak, n. 5.

[14]  Rao, n. 9.

[15] “No. 59 APFIC Course List,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/courses/courselist.php?qunit=59%20APFIC. Accessed January 24, 2026.

[16] T Bhogeswar Rao (TBR 22A118PS001), “Air Marshal Avinash D Joshi PVSM VM Mention-In-Despatch (R) SPEAKS Part 2/1,” YouTube, July 7, 2021, https://youtu.be/jBX1a3MrPvc?si=-R2ru0IR3PwdVLHe. Accessed on January 25, 2026.

[17] Ibid.

[18] N. 1.

[19] “No. 19 FCL Course List,” Bharat-Rakshak, https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/indianairforce/database/courses/courselist.php?qunit=19%20FCL. Accessed on January 27, 2026.

[20]   Rao, n. 16.

[21] N. 1.

[22] Ibid.

[23] Ibid.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Arjun Prakash Iyer and Shwetabh Singh Rajput, “Swing-Wing Heroes of the Himalayas: Story of the MiG-23s and MiG-27s Defending the Northern Borders of India,” Centre for Aerospace Power and Strategic Studies (CAPSS), October 15, 2024, https://capssindia.org/swing-wing-heroes-of-the-himalayas-story-of-the-mig-23s-and-mig-27s-defending-the-northern-borders-of-india/. Accessed on January 29, 2026.

[26] List compiled based on discussions with Air Vice Marshal Pradeep Singh, Group Captain Hemant Vishnu Khatu, and Wing Commander Vijay Kumar Sharma

[27] Arjun Prakash Iyer and Shwetabh Singh Rajput, “Behind Friendly Lines: Story of How an Indian MiG-23 Pilot Ejected in the USSR,” Centre for Aerospace  Power and Strategic Studies (CAPSS), April 08, 2025, https://capssindia.org/behind-friendly-lines-story-of-how-an-indian-mig-23-pilot-ejected-in-the-ussr/. Accessed on February 01, 2026.

[28] Hemant Vishnu Khatu (Group Captain in the Indian Air Force), in discussion with Arjun Prakash Iyer, January-February, 2026.

[29]  Vijay Kumar Sharma (Wing Commander), in discussion with Arjun Prakash Iyer, January, 2026.

[30] Iyer and  Rajput, n. 27.

[31]  T Bhogeswar Rao (TBR 22A118PS001), “Air Marshal Avinash D Joshi PVSM VM Mention-In-Despatch (R) SPEAKS Part 2/2,” YouTube, July 7, 2021, https://youtu.be/dhEyNV-st84?si=0UIrWAQB5u52psjL.

[32]  N. 28.

[33] Ibid.

[34] Rao, n. 31.

[35] N. 28.

[36]  N. 29.

[37]  Rao, n. 31.

[38] Indian Air Force, Form 1500 (Operational Record Book), No. 221 Squadron IAF, File No. AIR/SQN/217H/1B/Vol-IB (January 1974–December 1986), declassified by Ministry of Defence, History Division, New Delhi, ORB for the quarter ending March 31, 1982.

[39]  N. 28.

[40] Ibid.

[41] No. 221 Squadron Indian Air Force, Valiants: The Few, The Proud – 221 Squadron Indian Air Force – Glorious 60 Years 1963–2023 (Halwara, Indian Air Force, 2023), pp. 34–65.

[42] No. 221 Squadron Indian Air Force, The Illustrated History of the 221 Squadron Indian Air Force (Halwara, Indian Air Force, 2009), pp. 65-66

[43]   N. 28.

[44] Anchit Gupta, “High Flying Heroes: The Pioneers of Fighter Landings at Leh Airbase,” IAF History, February 19, 2022, https://iafhistory.in/2022/02/19/high-flying-heroes-the-pioneers-of-fighter-landings-at-leh-airbase/. Accessed on February 2, 2026.

[45] Mann Aman Singh Chhina “Military Digest | Remembering Air Marshal A.D. Joshi: The MiG-23 Landing at Leh,” The Indian Express, February 16, 2025, https://indianexpress.com/article/cities/chandigarh/military-digest-remembering-air-marshal-a-d-joshi-mig-23-landing-leh-9864151/. Accessed on February 14, 2026.

[46] Iyer and Rajput, n. 25.

[47]  N. 1.

[48]   T Bhogeswar Rao (TBR 22A118PS001), “Air Marshal Avinash D Joshi PVSM VM Mention-In-Despatch (R) SPEAKS Part 1/3,” YouTube, July 7, 2021, https://youtu.be/RuWjORITIDM?si=JRcDotICQjXLr4R8.

[49] Indian Air Force, Form 1500, No. 221 Squadron, ORB for the quarter ending September 30, 1985

[50] No. 221 Squadron Indian Air Force, n.39, pp. 34–65.

[51] N. 28.

[52]  N. 29.

[53]  Indian Air Force, Form 1500, No. 221 Squadron, ORB for the quarter ending September 30, 1986

[54]   N. 28.

[55]  Bharat-Rakshak, n. 5.

[56]   N. 1.

[57] Rao, n. 48.

[58] Indian Air Force, Swifts – Sahasam Vijayate – Golden Jubilee 1966–2016 (Hasimara: Indian Air Force, 2016), p. 86.

[59]    Rao, n. 48.

The post In Memoriam: Air Marshal AD Joshi PVSM VM (Retd) appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: IAF, HAL, Bangalore, HT-2, HPT-32, HTT-34, HTT-40, Basic Trainer

Introduction

The Indian Air Force (IAF) has a proud legacy of undertaking basic flight training in South India. IAF air bases and training establishments located in the region, have made it the ‘cradle’ of military flight training in India. Since Independence, the IAF’s requirements for basic trainer aircraft have also aided in the growth of aeronautical manufacturing in Southern India. Since 1948, a total of three indigenous basic trainer aircraft, the HT-2, HPT-32 and more recently, the HTT-40 have been developed and manufactured in India. While the latter two basic trainers were vitally important in the growth of India’s nascent domestic aeronautical design and development capability, the completion of design and development of the HTT-40 signals the maturity of the nation’s domestic aerospace and defence ecosystem, which is today producing fighter aircraft, trainer aircraft, utility and attack helicopters. The deliveries of the HTT-40 to the IAF are now slated to begin in Q1 2026.

As we strive towards the goal of ‘Atmanirbhar Bharat’ and self-sufficiency in defence production, it is important to note that the IAF, from 1948 till now, continues to drive the growth of India’s aeronautical industry and will continue to do so.

This is the second of a 3-part-series on indigenously developed basic trainers for the Indian Air Force

PART 2

Piston Pioneer

Following in the footsteps of the HT-2, in 1975 HAL began preliminary work on the development of a new basic trainer for the IAF. The Government sanctioned the design and development of a new basic trainer aircraft in 1976 at a cost of INR 5.53 crores. The requirement was for a total of 161 trainer aircraft and work was proceeding in earnest by 1977.

The design of the Hindustan Piston Trainer 32 (HPT-32). proceeded swiftly, with the first 1st HPT-32 prototype (X 2157) making its maiden flight in Bangalore on 6^th January 1977, piloted by Wg Cdr Inder Chopra, HAL’s Chief Test Pilot (CTP). The second HPT-32 prototype made its maiden flight in March 1979, incorporating several modifications. The third and last prototype made its maiden flight on 31^st July 1981 and was representative of the final production version and significantly lighter than the first two prototypes.[1]

The HPT-32 is a cantilever, low-wing monoplane and of all-metal construction. Unlike the HT-2, the HPT-32 was a nose wheel aircraft with side-by-side seating for two persons under a rearward sliding jettisonable framed canopy. The HPT-32 also had the provision for a seat behind the instructor and trainee, along with space for some luggage. This was due to the fact that HAL had also planned to offer the aircraft to undertake liaison roles. The aircraft had a non-retractable tricycle type landing gear. The aircraft was powered by a Textron Lycoming AEIO-540-D4B5 flat-six 260 hp engine, driving a Hartzell two-blade constant-speed metal propeller. Fatigue life was quoted as 6.500 hours.

The IAF went on to place an initial production order for the new basic trainer in 1981, ordering 40 aircraft with an additional requirement for 100-150. At the time, the cost of each aircraft was estimated at INR 19.25 lakh.[2]

The HPT-32 was inducted into the Indian Air Force in March 1984. The trainer aircraft was used for Stage 1 flight training providing pupils with 65AIAF hours of flying.

HAL completed the delivery of 40 HPT-32s by March 1987. Just as it was with the HT-2, the Navy also acquired the HPT-32, ordering nine aircraft. INAS 550-B Flt at Kochi which was equipped with Islander aircraft in 1976, went on to induct the HPT-32 in January 1986. The squadron completed basic flying training on the HPT-32 in October 1987, for the first batch of six naval pilots. However, training on the HPT-32 was discontinued soon after, and the squadron ceased further basic flying training on the type.[3]

The IAF placed three additional orders for the HPT-32 in August 1988, January 1990 and March 1992 for 40, 30 and 24 additional aircraft respectively. In total, the IAF placed orders for 134 HPT-32s.

A turboprop version of the HPT-32, called as the HTT-34 took to the air for the first time on 17^th June 1984 piloted by Wg Cdr Ashok and another pilot. “The aim was to enhance its performance, while also overcoming the nagging supply problems of high-octane fuel. A turboprop engine uses turbine fuel (refined kerosene). “The more powerful engine on the HTT-34 gave the aircraft excellent performance,” Wg Cdr P Ashoka (retd)” said in his autobiography.[4] HTT-34 prototype was in fact the HPT-32 third prototype which was modified.[5]

However, despite the HTT-34s improved performance, HAL never received any orders for it.

The HTT-34 was also demonstrated as a trainer aircraft at the Farnborough (UK) and Paris Airshows in 1984 and 1985 respectively. “Later we (HAL) took it to Nigeria and Ghana in Africa on a marketing mission. Our aerobatic displays were greatly appreciated and some of the foreign pilots who flew the aircraft, were also duly impressed. Unfortunately, this did not result in any sales, probably for financial reasons,” Wg Cdr Ashoka added.[6]

Troubled Trainer

The HPT-32 took over the basic training role (Phase I) in the IAF in entirety from 1988 onwards, following the retirement of the HT-2.[7]According to a CAG report released in 2019, the HPT-32 aircraft was besieged with difficulties related to reliability and safety including engine failure, poor glide characteristics and absence of an ejection seat.

Due to a large number of accidents, the entire HPT-32 fleet was grounded in July 2009.[8] This decision followed the crash of an HPT-32 on 28^th July 2009 due to engine failure.[9]

A High-Power Study Team (HPST) was constituted by Air HQ and HAL’s Transport Aircraft Division in Jul 2009 to undertake an in-depth analysis of maintainability and reliability of HPT-32 aircraft and its engine. The HPST was tasked to undertake technical investigation to find out the cause of engine failures and suggest remedial measures

However, in August 2009, the IAF decided to discontinue flying of the HPT-32 fleet till the finalization of HPST report. The HPST report released in December 2009 stated that the HPT-32 aircraft was designed and developed in the early 1980s and did not meet present day standards (at the time). The technical investigation carried out by HAL was inconclusive in its findings.

As per a CAG report released in 2013, it observed that engine cut-off issues had resulted in 189 incidents/accidents on HPT-32 aircraft. Originally slated for retirement in 2014, the HPT-32 fleet was grounded in 2009 and resulted in HAL’s HJT-16 Kiran Intermediate Jet Trainer (IJT) being used for Stage I training from 2010 to 2013. In June 2012, the IAF opted not to return its HPT-32 fleet back into service, which at the time numbered approximately 116 aircraft.[10] [11]

In total when combining the HT-2 and HPT-32, 300 trainers were produced by HAL. The HPT-32 remained in service only for 25 years as compared to the HT-2, which remained in service for 34 years. Despite the trials and tribulations with the development of indigenous basic trainers, it would not be out of place, to say that the HT-2 and HPT-32 set the stage for the development of a new, modern and state-of-the-art basic trainer for the future.

A Unique Experience of Flying the HT-2, HPT-32 and HTT-40

Air Chief Marshal V.R. Chaudhari (retd) was commissioned into the Indian Air Force in December 1982 and has the unique distinction of having flown the HT-2, HPT-32 and HTT-40.

I joined the National Defence Academy (NDA) on 15 January 1979 and passed out from the NDA in December 1981. We reported to what was then called Elementary Flying School (EFS) at Bidar on 1 January 1982. Bidar at the time was the home base for the HT-2. The HT-2 was based only in two locations, Bidar and FIS Tambaram. It never flew in Dundigal, which had the T-6 Harvard and later the Kiran Intermediate Jet Trainer (IJT). We underwent a brief one-week orientation course, getting our flying clothing and so on. In the second week of January, we started flying. At EFS Bidar, we also had ground school. This was ground training and primarily about seven to eight subjects, all aviation related. We had a little bit of exposure to all these subjects in the final term in NDA. So it was building up on the basics that we were taught there on aerodynamics and navigation and avionics and aviation medicine and meteorology.

Prior to us joining EFS Bidar and a year earlier, the HT-2 fleet there had experienced a spate of accidents. I cannot recollect the numbers but there were several fatal accidents. As a result, the decision was taken not to allow solo flying in the HT-2, instead our course would have what was then called Dual-cum-Solo (Dolo). This meant that we had a safety pilot in the rear  during our ‘Solo’ sorties. The instructor would not provide any guidance or handle the controls but acted as a safety pilot in the rear seat. We were the first batch at EFS Bidar to perform Dolo sorties. I flew 30.5 hours on the HT-2, which included all types of sorties including general handling, aerobatics and getting a feel of the aircraft. There was no night flying on the HT-2 at that time. If I recollect correctly – and going by my logbook – my 21^st sortie was the solo check clearance for going solo. I never flew the HT-2 solo but instead flew 4-5 Dolo sorties.

I have an anecdote to narrate here on the HT-2 which was a tail wheel aircraft. The tail wheel was held by two strong springs on either side to allow it to caster. So, when one landed the aircraft, it was important to touch down on the two main wheels. There were occasions however, when the aircraft would actually swing from side-to-side because of non-centering of the tail wheel. It could happen for many reasons; drift while landing, a strong cross wind or incorrect rudder inputs. When we applied the rudders the tail wheel also used to move along with the rudder. On the first day when our course started flying, we had two cases of HT-2s swinging on landing, with our entire course all lined up along the runway and in the ATC watching our first few course mates taking to the air.

The HT-2 was a very tricky aircraft to fly and we had quite a lot of attrition during basic flying training in our time. In our course along with 30 cadets from the army and from the air force (NDA and direct entry) we had 78-79 cadets. If I recall correctly when we left Bidar, only 65-70 of us remained in total. Only about 53 passed out from the Air Force Academy (AFA) eventually. Prior to flying the HT-2, I had only done some gliding at NDA and so flying a powered aircraft was a completely alien experience. But I adapted quite easily and quite well.

I have another interesting anecdote on the HT-2. In the cockpit the RT channel change box was on the right side. There were only four preset channels on the RT, so after take-off we had to change from the ATC frequency to the radar frequency. This involved just a change of RT channel, which required one knob selection. But for that the pilot had to take off his right hand from the stick and move the RT knob. This meant that the aircraft had to be trimmed very accurately, otherwise it would start pitching up or going down. So this emerged as a major challenge to most of my course mates.

The other aspect was that the HT-2 did not have an ejection seat. So in case something went wrong with the aircraft, we would have to bail out. There was no time to jettison the canopy also, so part of the downwind checks before coming in for landing was to open the canopy. It was a sliding canopy and when we had it open had the wind on our faces and that was a great experience while landing.

Taxying the HT-2 on ground was another experience, because you just could not see over the aircraft nose, due to the angle. So while taxying we did what was called a ‘snake taxying’ procedure, where we would weave from left to right. So, when you weave off the center line, go to the right and from the left side, now you see that the path ahead is clear. Then you weave to the left and then look over your right and see that the path is clear. It was certainly interesting but if one had the basic psychomotor skills, not so difficult after all.

I recall that the Cirrus Major engine was very reliable and there were not many cases of engine cuts and things like that. Though, yes, the occasional one was there, like in our course, also we had maybe one or two. But I think that was par for the course in those days. Being a tail-dragger aircraft, for take-off when we reached a speed of 55 knots or something like that, we had to push the stick forward to lift the tail wheel up first and then only when we were flying on the main wheels, we would rotate the aircraft by pulling back on the stick.

I have some recollections here from my diary. I had written on my first air experience sortie which took place in January 1982. In fact, I wrote that it was not as exciting as my first sortie in a glider! After my second sortie on the HT-2, I noted that “I must try one more cushion at the back.” We had to carry our own parachutes and seat cushions. On my third sortie I did aerobatics for the first time and noted that after the instructor demonstrated aerobatics, I did two loops, two barrel rolls and one roll, followed by stall turns. I noted that I had no issues with G forces.

We flew one sortie a day, which would be approximately 50-60 minutes duration. The HT-2 could stay in the air for even longer. We also used to do a running change-over on the aircraft. The instructor would remain strapped in the aircraft for three sorties, and the cadets would swap during the running change-over.

From Bidar, we went to the Air Force Academy (AFA) in Dundigal. The HAL Kiran Mk-1As were just entering service at that time. At the time the course consisted of about 30 hours on the HT-2, followed by 80 hours on the Kiran Mk-1A.

I was commissioned into the fighter stream of the IAF in December 1982 and moved to Hakimpet. As of December 1982, I had 116 hours total on the Kiran and the HT-2 put together at AFA. Here I flew the Polish Iskara IJT. Those of us who flew the Iskara went to fly MiG-21, MiG-23 and so on. I flew about 106 hours in the Iskara in day sorties with another eight hours of night flying.  Coming back to the Kiran Mk-1A which was an indigenously developed jet trainer, it was certainly better to fly as it was a little faster, but it had its own minor idiosyncrasies. I would say, each aircraft has some peculiarities, accuracy in flying for example on the Kiran was challenging due to its wing design and high-lift devices. Maintaining accurate speeds or other parameters during manoeuvres was quite a challenge. So, as an example, if I just do a 360 degree turn, maintaining height within a few feet was very difficult on the Kiran.

In summary, the HT-2 was a very good basic trainer aircraft; it took a lot of beating while being operated by young cadets and served the nation for 34 years. It did what was asked of it, no doubt about that.

HPT-32 ‘Deepak’

In 1990, I was sent for the Flying Instructors course to Tambaram. Ours was the first batch which started training on the HPT-32 and this was in June 1990. The batches previous to us had flown the HT-2. We also had to fly the Kiran IJTs so we did half the course on the Kiran and half the course on the HPT-32.

The HPT-32 had several peculiarities; it had very poor glide characteristics. For an aircraft with a not very reliable engine, at least its glide characteristics should have been half as good (at least) as the Kiran or HT-2. If we had an engine failure in the Kiran, we could still glide and make it to the nearest airfield.  The HPT-32 just came down rapidly and had very poor glide characteristics. So, one needed to be on the ball all the time. When you have an aircraft which does not have an ejection seat and bad flight characteristics, safety lies in altitude. So, the higher we flew, the safer we felt. But unfortunately, the HPT-32 didn’t have a very good climb performance, it took forever to climb.

We were flying absolutely brand-new HPT-32s, they were still being maintained by HAL not only at Tambaram but even in AFA. In our time we didn’t have so many engine cuts and that began many years later. The problem with bringing down the aircraft safely following an engine-cut was that the Deccan plateau is a rocky area, so it was challenging to find a flat piece of land. To bail out from the HPT-32, we had to get out of the aircraft and walk on the wing and then jump-off.

In its later years, the HPT-32 fleet engine cut-offs while in the air was too frequent and was a little too high for comfort.

The HPT-32 was also very different from the HT-2 due to having a nose wheel and dual-seating. I am afraid that the HPT-32 did not have too many positives. One of the positives, however, was that the side-by-seating for pilot and instructor, The latter could watch the cadets flying habits closely, this was of-course not possible in a tandem-seat trainer like the HT-2. Apart from this, the HPT-32 had good flying endurance, and we could have running-changeovers here too. Its avionics and flying instruments were a generation ahead of the Kiran Mk-1A.

The Kiran on the other hand, had very benign spin characteristics so when we put it in a spin, we could actually demonstrate something to the cadet and tell him about the nose down angle, how fast the aircraft is spinning, count the turns, etc. The HPT-32 spun so rapidly that it didn’t give time for instructing, we could do post-sortie debrief. The HPT-32 was a huge difference from the Kiran, which had very care-free handling.

I later flew the HPT-32 again as an instructor at AFA and then as an Air Force examiner and accumulated around 270 hours on the type. In comparison to the HPT-32, the HT-2 served the IAF well even though it was a very rudimentary aircraft. It definitely honed our skills in basic flying and for its age and vintage it was a good aeroplane that sufficed for our requirements.

The HPT-32 could have been a much better designed aircraft and should have served the IAF as long as the HT-2 or the Kiran. The design aspects required improvement. Like I said, the glide ratio, the spin characteristics, the power to weight ratio, poor climb performance, and so on. All this could have been much better. With the power of hindsight, I can say that HAL should have looked at a design that was little more futuristic even for a basic trainer. The HPT-32 entered service in the nineties and could have featured better avionics, an ejection seat, capability to teach somebody instrument landing procedures which occupies so much time on fighter aircraft. There were quite a few aspects on the HPT-32 which were lacking for a basic trainer in the nineties, and it was a design that was not ahead of its time.

HTT-40

In addition to flying the HT-2 and the HPT-32, I also s an opportunity to fly a prototype of the HTT-40. There of course will be a difference between a prototype aero plane and the aircraft which eventually enters serial production. The prototype HTT-40 which I flew was a little heavier than the PC-7 MKII and it had modern avionics. The cockpit comfort was very good and the aircraft had ejection seats. Its engine is also quite reliable. I did not undertake any manoeuvres or aerobatics nor did I fly the aircraft to the extremities of its envelope.

My Time with the HT-2

Air Marshal Anil Khosla retired from the Indian Air Force as Vice Chief of the Air Staff. He was commissioned into the Indian Air Force in December 1979.

My very first impression of the HT-2 as a cadet was that it looked simple and almost modest, yet purposeful. As a young flight cadet in the Indian Air Force during the early 1970s, my first encounter with the HT-2 was both exhilarating and a bit intimidating. The aircraft was a sleek, all-metal design with tandem seating and it was simple yet robust. The controls were responsive, but it demanded precision right from the start; a sloppy approach could lead to a bumpy landing on those narrow landing gear.

In total I flew a total of 215 hours on the HT-2. This included 40 hours of ab-initio training, 65 hours during the Flying Instructors’ Course, and 110 hours during instructing at Flying Instructors School (FIS) Tambaram. At FIS Tambaram I instructed on the HT-2 teaching young IAF pilots how to become instructors.

My abiding memories are vivid and multifaceted. I remember the distinctive sound of the engine starting up. I Remember the smell of gasoline during stall turns. One unforgettable sortie for me, was my second solo flight, during which, after take-off, I had an engine failure and had to force-land the aircraft.

The HT-2 was considered challenging to fly, however, it had many attributes that made it such a long-serving basic trainer in the Air Force. The HT-2 earned its reputation as challenging aircraft to fly as it tended to swing on the ground on landing. It required total concentration and focus to prevent over-controlling, especially in crosswinds.  It was known to be somewhat unforgiving if mishandled, especially in the stall/spin regime.

Yet, these very challenges made it an excellent trainer for basic flying skills. It remained in service for over three decades (from the 1950s until the late 1980s), with over 120 aircraft produced.

Its attributes included: –

• • Rugged airframe.

  • Easy to maintain (indigenously available spare parts).

  • Excellent visibility from the front cockpit.

  • Low operating costs.

  • Indigenous production with no dependency on foreign suppliers.

 The aspects of the HT-2 that I liked and disliked were many.

Likes:

• • Handling and Stability—perfect for building confidence in novices.

  • The response to controls was direct, making it great for learning coordination.

  • The bubble canopy and raised instructor’s seat provided panoramic views.

  • The engine was smooth and powerful enough for basic aerobatics.

  • Execution of aerobatic manoeuvres gave a lot of satisfaction and a boost to the confidence level.

Dislikes:

• • The narrow-track undercarriage made landings tricky as it was prone to swinging on the ground.

  • The seats weren’t the most ergonomic for extended sessions, causing back aches during prolonged flying.

  • The seat was fixed without height or position adjustment.

The parachute strapped to the pilot was not very comfortable or easy to bail out.

*****

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Notes:

[1] Global Security Org, “content” https://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/india/hpt-32.htm accessed on August 25, 2025

[2] Vijay Seth, The Flying Machines of the Indian Air Force 1933 – 1999  (New Delhi: Seth Communications, 2000), p. 41,

[3] Indian Navy NIC, “content” https://indiannavy.gov.in/content/dorniers-2

[4] Wg Cdr P Ashoka, Riding the Wind (New Delhi: Viji Books, 2011), p. 140.

[5] Vayu Aerospace Review 1984

[6] ibid

[7] Performance Audit Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India on Capital Acquisition in Indian Air Force, Report No. 3 of 2019

[8] Performance Audit Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India on Capital Acquisition in Indian Air Force, Report No. 3 of 2019

[9]  PIB.GOV.IN, “content”, https://www.pib.gov.in/newsite/PrintRelease.aspx?relid=75579&reg=3&lang=2 accessed on Oct 1, 2025.

[10]  Audit Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India on Capital Acquisition in Indian Air Force, Audit Report No. 34 of 2014

[11] Performance Audit Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India on Capital Acquisition in Indian Air Force, 2017

The post A History of Partnership: The Indian Air Force and Growth of Indigenous Basic Trainer Production in South India appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: IAF, HAL, Bangalore, HTT-40, Basic Trainer

Introduction

The Indian Air Force (IAF) and its air bases in South India have a distinguished legacy of service to the nation and undertaking flight training. IAF air bases and training establishments located in the region have made it the ‘cradle’ of military flight training in India. Since Independence, the IAF’s requirements for training pilots for its helicopter and transport aircraft fleet have grown exponentially. Air Force Station Yelahanka is a unique station within the IAF, which not only has the responsibility of being the hub for transport and helicopter training but is also the home base for Aero India, which is one of the largest air shows in the world. AFS Yelahanka has a long and distinguished legacy that is the envy of many air forces worldwide. Yelahanka’s weather is ideal for year-round training with training days rarely being lost due to rain or poor visibility and an airspace that is well-managed and uncluttered. AFS Yelahanka is the jewel in the IAF’s crown for training of transport and helicopter personnel.

Setting the Foundations

Yelahanka’s history as an IAF air base stretches back over 80 years. It has its origins in the Second World War, when Prisoners of War (POW) were interned at various camps in India from 1941 to 1946. Bangalore was one of the locations where these POWs were kept in eight camps at Jakkur, Hebbal and Jalahalli. The POWs, who numbered over 20,000 were tasked with constructing three airfields in Bangalore at Jalahalli, Jakkur and Yelahanka.^[1]

Today only the airfields in Yelahanka and Jakkur are operational. Jakkur is home to the Government Flying Training School (GFTS) which is one of the oldest flying schools in India.^[2] The GFTS was started by the erstwhile Maharaja of Mysore’s Government and inaugurated by India’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru on December 28, 1948.^[3]

One of the first units located at RAF Station Yelahanka was the Royal Air Force’s (RAF) No. 225 Group Communication Flight. It was formed on July 1, 1942, at Jakkur and moved to Yelahanka on January 10, 1944.^[4] Several other RAF Squadrons were based in Yelahanka. No. 1672 (Mosquito) Conversion Unit, which operated between February – June 1944 and again from October 1944 – August 1945. No. 60 Squadron operated the Bristol Blenheim and later the Hawker Hurricane IIC between May – September 1943. No. 211 Squadron operated the Mosquito between June – July 1945. No. 684 Squadron, which operated in the photo reconnaissance role flew Mosquitoes and the Bristol Beaufighter between 1943-1946. No. 30 Squadron flew the Hawker Hurricane IIC and the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt between April – September 1944. No. 1302 (Meteorological) Flight flew at Yelahanka from July 1943 till it was disbanded in July 1946. No. 4 Squadron Royal Indian Air Force (Oorials) operated at Yelahanka with their Spitfire Mk VIIIs from December 1943 to February 1944 and again from April 1944 to March 1946.^[5]

On May 1, 1946, No. 225 Group Communication Flight moved to HAL Airfield, Bangalore and in June 1946, it was rechristened as No. 2 (Indian) Group Communication Flight. It was the last flying element to be transferred out of Yelahanka. The airfield later fell into disuse. On August 15, 1947, No. 2 (Indian) Group Communication Flight’s nomenclature was changed to No. 2 (Training) Group Flight. As on the day of India’s independence, No.2 (Indian) Group RAF was located at Bangalore, with Air Cmde CD Adams as Air Officer Commanding (AOC) responsible for Ground Training.^[6]

The IAF reorganized Air HQ in 1948, and on July 22, 1949, No. 2 (Training) Group was renamed as Training Command. HQ Training Command occupied the buildings of HQ No.2 (Training) Group RIAF at Bangalore High Grounds. Air Cmde RHD Singh was the first AOC and Gp Capt R Atmaram was the first Senior Air Staff Officer (SASO) of Training Command.

The IAF’s Technical Training College (TTC) was established at Jalahalli in 1949 in collaboration with Air Service Training Ltd, Hamble, UK. Prior to the establishment of TTC, the IAF’s direct entry officers of the Technical Branch were trained in the UK Gp Capt MJ Kriplani took over as the first Indian Commandant of the TTC in July 1956. The TTC was renamed as Air Force Technical College (AFTC) in 1957.

In 1950, No. 2 (Training) Group Flight was renamed Transport Communication and Coordination Flight (TCCF) and remained at HAL airfield. It moved back to Yelahanka on June 4, 1964,[7] where the flight was established as a lodger unit of Transport Training Wing (TTW).

All flying establishments of the IAF were transferred to Training Command on 15 September 1954, making it responsible for the entire training in the IAF. HQ Training Command moved from High Grounds, Bangalore to Hebbal on May 31, 1958.

The President of India sanctioned upgradation of the rank of the post of Air Officer Commanding (AOC), Training Command on 08 April 1960 and re-designated the post as Air Officer Commanding in Chief (AOC-in-C). The permanent establishment of HQ Training Command at Hebbal was finally completed in 1968.

A New Beginning

Air Force Station Yelahanka was raised on August 1, 1963, following the 1962 Sino-India conflict. It was realised after the conflict that the IAF needed to expand its transport aircraft fleet. This resulted in the establishment of the Fixed Wing Training Faculty (FWTF) that has produced all of the transport pilots serving the IAF today. The FWTF is entrusted with the onerous task of conversion training of Transport Pilots and Navigators of IAF and other sister services. It also undertakes operational and RTR commitments assigned by HQ TC and Air HQ.

The FWTF has its roots in a conversion and training Squadron formed at Agra in 1948 which was relocated to Begumpet in 1957 and re-named as the Transport Training Wing (TTW). In 1963, after the Sino-India conflict and due to the necessity of expanding transport training in the IAF, the unit was divided into No 1 TTW at Begumpet and No 2 TTW at Yelahanka. No.2 TTW was established at Yelahanka, and the then deserted airfield was recommissioned in August 1963 under the command of Gp Capt PL Dhawan. He was one of the founding members of No.12 Squadron, the IAF’s first transport Squadron. He was awarded the Vir Chakra for his contributions in the Indo-Pak War of 1947-48 and was conferred with Bar to the Vir Chakra after the 1962 Sino-Indian War. The Wing’s first batch of pilots were commissioned into service on December 31, 1963, and the 2^nd batch was commissioned on April 18, 1964.

In 1975, the Head Quarters Training Command Communications Flight (HQ TCCF) was established at AFS Yelahanka with HS-748 ‘Avro’ aircraft to undertake communication duties of dignitaries of all the three Services. The first HS-748 was inducted at AFS Yelahanka on July 10, 1974, and the full complement of aircraft were received by March 1975.^[8]

HQ TCCF remains operational today, making it one of the IAF’s longest-serving units, since it traces its origins to the RAF’s No. 225 Group Communication Flight. HQ TTCF AF presently operates two HS-748 aircraft being exclusively used for communication duties for military generals and other equivalent dignitaries. The unit has undertaken extensive communication duties for service and civil dignitaries over the last eight decades of its existence. The unit has an excellent flight safety record and has had no accidents to date.

The Dakota was inducted at Yelahanka in 1963 for transport pilot training as part of No.2 TTW. The Dakota performed this role till January 1975. In 1964, a Dakota from AFS Yelahanka was tasked with scattering the ashes of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru.^[9]  Dakotas from AFS Yelahanka were also used in the 1965 war to ferry troops and supplies.

The DC-3 could accommodate 21 passengers and two crew members.  No.1 TTW merged with No. 2 TTW on January 1, 1968, to form a single TTW at Yelahanka. Initial conversion courses were conducted on Dakota Mk III and Mk IV. From 1972 – 1974 training was imparted to air force cadets from Iraq, Zambia, Nigeria, Bangladesh and Nepal. In January 1975, HS 748 aircraft replaced the Dakota, and the course was renamed Transport Conversion Course (TCC).^[10]

Duty with Valour

AFS Yelahanka was the nucleus of transport support operations south of Nagpur during the 1971 War with Pakistan. Before the hostilities began TTW took on the transport role. No.1 Air Delivery Flight was formed at Kanpur with personnel from TTW and flew 481 sorties, totaling 2,249 hours from 30 October 1971 to 03 January 1972. 25 tonnes of cargo was airlifted. ^[11]

In the Eastern Theatre a six aircraft detachment from AFS Yelahanka undertook paradrop operations near Dhaka. The six aircraft flew 100 hours towards paradrop operations, dropping 114 troops and three tonnes of equipment.

Airlift of refugees was also undertaken by these aircraft with a total of 151 hours flown and 52 tonnes of load, personnel and battle casualties carried. The aircraft from TTW and crew of this base were part of the task force assembled at Bihta for the historical Tangail Drop. The other IAF Squadrons that participated in the Tangail Drop were No.11, No.43 and No.49. From November 8 to 16, 1971, the wing’s aircraft flew 71 sorties over 198 hours from Hakimpet, transporting 27,095 tonnes of cargo. A detachment at Tambaram conducted reconnaissance flights along the Eastern Coast.

An element of two aircraft from TTW also formed the maritime component of the HQ Maritime Air Operations at Bombay. The two aircraft flew a total of 40 sorties, accumulating 237 hours from December 4 – 23, 1971.

Training Revamp

Today there are three technical flights at AFS Yelahanka which operate the Antonov An-32, Dornier Do-228 and Mil Mi-17. The An-32 and Mi-17 were inducted at AFS Yelahanka in 1986 and 1982 respectively, while the Do-228 was inducted for training in 1996.

The An-32 was inducted into the IAF in 1984 and inducted shortly thereafter in June 1986 at AFS Yelahanka. The station was placed on operational alert during Exercise Brasstacks with its An-32 and HS-748s, flying a total of 152 sorties totaling 263 hours. 1608 personnel and 13,345 kg of load were airlifted by these aircraft. During Op Pawan the station supported detachments belonging to No.7 Sqn, PTS and 12 Sqn. The station also maintained a detachment at AFS Tambaram for relief operations.

The Dornier Do-228 (built under license by HAL) was inducted at AFS Yelahanka in 1996. The establishment was subsequently renamed as the Fixed Wing Training Faculty (FWTF). Today, the training in FWTF is conducted in two stages — Stage II (T) and Stage III (T). The induction of the latest Glass Cockpit variant of the Do-228 at Yelahanka commenced in Oct 2023. Stage II (T) training is conducted as an integrated module comprising the Full Motion Full Mission Simulator and KD series aircraft. Stage III (T) training is conducted on the HM series of Do-228 aircraft.

AFS Yelahanka is also home to No. 112 Helicopter Unit (112 HU), the ‘Thoroughbreds’ which presently operate the Russian-origin Mil Mi-17 medium lift helicopters in the training role. 112 HU is christened as the Alma Mater of Heli-Lift and was honoured with the President’s Standard in March 2014.

112 HU was raised on August 1, 1963, at Jorhat with Bell 47 G helicopters. It was one of the first helicopter units in the Northeast. It was reequipped with Chetak (SA-316) helicopters on November 7, 1966, and moved to Bagdogra. The unit’s first Cheetah (SA-315) helicopters entered service in 1973. 112 HU moved to AFS Yelahanka in July 1982 and was re-equipped with Mi-8 ‘Pratap’ helicopters that same year. The first Pratap Pilot Conversion Course, to convert pilots from Chetak helicopters to Mi-8s was undertaken in July 1984. The training pattern was later modified and called Helicopter Conversion Course (HCC) which was the precursor to today’s Stage III (H) pilot training. 112 HU commenced the ab-initio Flt Eng Course for twin-engine Russian helicopters in Aug 1984 and Flt Gunners Course in Jul 1988.

The newer Mi-17 medium lift helicopters were inducted into 112 HU in February 2016. The Thoroughbreds bid farewell to their Mi-8s on December 2017 at AFS Yelahanka. The Mi-8s were instrumental in training IAF’s twin-engine helicopter pilots for more than four decades but by the time of their retirement were at the end of their life and demanded a high amount of maintenance.

Less than a handful of Mi-8s were operational by the time of their retirement from IAF service. As the Mi-8 neared its retirement, the IAF transferred its remaining Mi-8s to Yelahanka. In total, the IAF operated 10 HUs with the Mi-8. The last Mi-8 of the IAF received a special send off with Air Chief Marshal (Retd) FH Major at the controls of the helicopter on its final flight. ACM Major was the first helicopter pilot in the IAF to rise to the rank of Chief of the Air Staff (March 31, 2007 – May 31, 2009). On his final flight on the Mi-8, ACM FH Major had accumulated over 4,900 flight hours on the Mi-8.

The first Mi-8s arrived at docks in Bombay in 1971 and were formally inducted into service in 1972. The Mi-8 helicopters were a quantum leap ahead of the piston powered Mi-4 helicopters then operational with the IAF. Between 1971 and 1990, 107 Mi-8 helicopters were inducted into the IAF; 83 Mi-8 helicopters between 1971 and 1980 and a second batch of 17 Mi-8 helicopters were added between 1981 and 1990.

Since 2018, the medium lift helicopter training has been undertaken only on Mi-17. The Mi-17 features an AC-based electrical system as compared to Mi-8’s DC electrical system, which led to fewer snags and more reliable systems. The Mi-17s also have a more powerful engine and as compared to the Mi-8, does not face the issue of main rotor RPM dropping when operating at higher power regimes, thereby reducing sluggishness of controls.

Considering the sheer magnitude of the large number of aircraft that need to be maintained to generate a high sortie rate, the technical flights at AFS Yelahanka are often referred to as ‘Mini-BRDs’. Maintaining the legacy platforms is certainly demanding as the primary challenges lie in ensuring the availability of spares for aging systems, adapting older designs to modern operational requirements, and upgrading avionics to match current safety and efficiency standards.

Through Indigenisation of critical components, close coordination with HAL and OEMs, and rigorous preventive maintenance schedules, the engineering personnel at AFS Yelahanka have consistently kept these aircraft mission-ready, with the fleet remaining reliable workhorses for transport, training, and liaison duties.

In a tribute the aviator’s and their flying machines, past and present at AFS Yelahanka, ‘Vayu Path – The Aviation Gallery of Yelahanka” was inaugurated on December 22, 2025, by then Air-Officer-Commanding-in-Chief, Training Command, Air Marshal Tejinder Singh.

*****

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Notes:

^[1] CAPSS research visit to AFS Yelahanka, October 2025.

^[2] DYES Karnataka Govt, “https://dyes.karnataka.gov.in/7/The%20Government%20Flying%20Training%20School/en. Accessed on 15 October, 2025.

^[3] Naveen Menezes, “https://www.deccanherald.com/india/karnataka/bengaluru/experts-question-govt-s-move-to-relocate-jakkur-flying-school-to-mysuru-3832166, Deccan Herald, December 16, 2025. Accessed on December 20, 2025.

^[4] Anchit Gupta, “The Flying Wheelchair – Communication Flights in India”, https://iafhistory.in/2024/11/26/the-flying-wheelchair-communication-flights-in-india/, accessed on 20 October 2025.

^[5] CAPSS research visit to AFS Yelahanka, October 2025.

^[6] IAF NIC IN, https://indianairforce.nic.in/commands, accessed on 15 October

[7] Anchit Gupta, “The Flying Wheelchair – Communication Flights in India”, https://iafhistory.in/2024/11/26/the-flying-wheelchair-communication-flights-in-india/, accessed on 20 October 2025.

^[8] CAPSS research visit to AFS Yelahanka, October 2025.

^[9] ibid

^[10] ibid

^[11] ibid

The post Foundational Institution: AFS Yelahanka has a Distinguished Legacy of Service to the Nation that is the Envy of other IAF Stations appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: IAF, HAL, Bangalore, HTT-40, Basic Trainer

Introduction

The Indian Air Force (IAF) has a proud legacy of undertaking basic flight training in South India. IAF air bases and training establishments located in the region have made it the ‘cradle’ of military flight training in India. Since Independence, the IAF’s requirements for basic trainer aircraft have aided the growth of aeronautical manufacturing in Southern India. Since 1948, a total of three indigenous basic trainer aircraft, the HT-2, HPT-32 and more recently, the HTT-40, have been developed and manufactured in India. While the latter two basic trainers were vitally important in the growth of India’s nascent domestic aeronautical design and development capability, the completion of design and development of the HTT-40 signals the maturity of the nation’s domestic aerospace and defence ecosystem, which is today producing fighter aircraft, trainer aircraft, utility and attack helicopters. The first HTT-40 is now slated to be delivered to the IAF in 2026.

As we strive towards the goal of ‘Atmanirbhar Bharat’ and self-sufficiency in defence production, it is important to note that the IAF, from 1948 till now, continues to drive the growth of India’s aeronautical industry and will continue to do so

This is the final part of a 3-part series on indigenously developed basic trainers for the Indian Air Force

PART III

Milestone Moment

Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) is to begin deliveries of the indigenously designed and developed Hindustan Turbo Trainer 40 (HTT-40) to the IAF in the first half of 2026. The commencement of deliveries of a new domestic basic trainer will mark an important milestone in India’s history of domestically developed military aircraft. The HTT-40 has been entirely designed, developed, and flight tested by HAL, following in the footsteps of the Hindustan Trainer 2 (HT-2) and the Hindustan Piston Trainer 32 (HPT-32) Deepak. The commencement of HTT-40 deliveries will be a milestone moment for the IAF and India’s aerospace and defence ecosystem, which has come together to once again deliver an indigenous BTA, as in years past with the HT-2 and HPT-32.

Training Need

The induction of the HTT-40 Basic Trainer Aircraft (BTA) will be a much-needed boost to the IAF, which has a longstanding requirement for 181 such aircraft. This need was partially met with the induction of 75 Swiss Pilatus PC-7 Mk II BTAs, introduced into service between February 2013 and November 2015. The HTT-40 will operate alongside the PC-7 MkII in the Stage I basic flying training role.

The HTT-40 will be used for basic flight training, aerobatics, instrument flying, close formation flight training, navigation and night flying. HAL also has plans for a future weaponised variant intended for weapons training, Counterinsurgency (COIN) and limited strike missions. This variant will have four pylons for carrying weapons and other stores, and could also be fitted with a Head Up Display (HUD). The tandem-seat turboprop basic trainer is also a fully aerobatic aircraft.

The IAF has played a pioneering role in the use of simulators for training, and HAL will deliver several synthetic training aids for the HTT-40, including a Fixed Base Full mission Simulator (FBFMS), Cockpit Procedure Trainer (CPT) and Avionics Part Task Trainer (APTT). It is expected that 30 per cent of the training on the HTT-40 will be met through synthetic training.

The IAF had earlier acquired two FBFMS, three CPTs and one APTT for its PC-7 MKII fleet.

Origins

In 2009, the Ministry of Defence (MoD) had decided that the IAF’s BTA requirement for 181 aircraft would be met with 75 trainers to be imported and 106 of an indigenously developed type. The IAF opted for the Swiss Pilatus PC-7 MKII in May 2012 to meet its urgent need for Stage 1 BTA. All 75 aircraft ordered were delivered by 2015. An options clause for 38 additional PC-7 MKIIs was cleared by the DAC in March 2015, but orders were never placed.

The IAF originally issued its Preliminary Staff Qualitative Requirement (PSQR) for the HTT-40 in 2009. The Acceptance of Necessity (AoN) for a new indigenously designed and developed BTA was accorded by the Defence Acquisition Council (DAC) in February 2010. At the time, HAL was to have completed the maiden flight of the HTT-40 by February 2013, obtained certification by 2015, and begun deliveries by 2017. HAL began design and development work on the HTT-40 in earnest from August 2013, when it decided to proceed with the programme using internal funding. Company funds worth INR 177 crore were sanctioned by HAL to undertake the Preliminary Design Phase (PDP) and Detailed Design Phase (DDP) activities of the HTT-40 at the Aircraft Research & Design Centre (AERDC) in Bengaluru.

The first HTT-40 prototype (PT-1) made its maiden flight in Bengaluru on May 31, 2016, and the trainer’s first public flight took place in Bengaluru on June 17, 2016, in the presence of then Defence Minister, the late Dr Manohar Parrikar. During his visit, he made the first official announcement that additional HTT-40s would be procured and that further import of basic trainer aircraft would be capped.[1] At the time, he had stated that the total number of BTAs required would increase from 181 to 210. The second HTT-40 prototype (PT-2) took to the air in June 2022. To reduce the effort required during User Evaluation Trials (UET), a team of test pilots from ASTE were deputed for User Assisted Technical Trials (UATT). Pilots from the IAF’s Aircraft and Systems Testing Establishment (ASTE) also flew sorties for assessing cockpit ergonomics, performance and handling, including stall, prior to the commencement of UETs.[2]

Certification from the Centre for Military Airworthiness and Certification (CEMILAC) was obtained in February 2025.

The delays in the HTT-40 programme can be attributed to several reasons, including the excessive weight of the prototype aircraft, obsolescence of the Engine Electronic Controller (EEC) on the Honeywell TPE331-12B turboprop engine powering the aircraft, and COVID-19.[3] HAL had issued a Request for Proposal (RFP) for a turboprop engine for the HTT-40 in June 2012 and selected the TPE331-12B turboprop engine in June 2015.[4]

                                    HAL HTT-40 Original Delivery Schedule

HAL finally awarded Honeywell a contract worth over USD100 million in July 2021 for 88 TPE331-12B engines/kits along with maintenance and support services. The engines will be assembled under license from Honeywell at HAL’s Engine Division in Bengaluru and maintenance infrastructure for the engine will also be created in India.

HAL had initially proposed to the IAF that initial Limited Series Production aircraft to be delivered would be powered by CAT-B engines, which were originally with the UK Royal Air Force (RAF). These engines were available to HAL after completion of full major overhaul with life restored back to 100 per cent (10,000 hours). [5] They were later to be replaced by brand-new engines and the CAT-B engines would be retained as spares.

The two flying prototypes of the HTT-40 are powered by CAT-B engines.

One of the other important but protracted phases in the development of the HTT-40 was spin trials. Six-turn spin (RHS and LHS) capability was successfully demonstrated towards the end of 2019, followed by eight-turn spin capability in 2020. HAL also benefited from consultations with Office National d’Etudes et de Recherches Aérospatiales (ONERA) of France, which suggested the incorporation of a ventral fin to aid spin trials. ONERA had been contracted by HAL to undertake rotary balance wind tunnel tests for HTT-40 spin trials.^[6]

According to a former HAL official involved in the design and development of the HTT-40, the flying characteristics of the HTT-40 are comparable to the Kiran jet trainer. He stated that HAL test pilots were happy with the HTT-40’s docile handling qualities, with the stall behaviour and maneuvrability being good. There is a high level of commonality between equipment fitted on the HTT-40 and what is used on LCA ‘Tejas’, HJT-36 IJT, ALH, LUH and Dornier Do-228. The Landing Gear and Cockpit Canopy were designed and fabricated by HAL.

Delivering on a Promise

The Defence Acquisition Council (DAC), led by Defence Minister Rajnath Singh, approved[7] the procurement of 106 HTT-40 aircraft on August 11, 2020. At that time, the Ministry of Defence (MoD) had stated that post certification of the HTT-40, 70 aircraft would be procured initially from HAL, with a balance of 36 aircraft to be procured after the trainer was operationalised by the IAF. HAL announced in February 2021 at the Aero India airshow that it had received a Request for Proposal (RFP) from the IAF for 70 HTT-40 trainers with provision for 38 additional aircraft.[8]

The RFP was issued five years after the maiden flight of the first HTT-40 prototype in May 2016. HAL was awarded the contract for 70 HTT-40s in October 2022, worth approximately INR 6,828 Crore.^[9] The HTT-40 will be manufactured at two production lines established by Hindustan Aeronautics at its Aircraft Division, Bengaluru and Aircraft Manufacturing Division, Nasik, with the bulk of production to be undertaken at the latter facility. HAL has stated plans to attain a peak production rate of 20 HTT-40s per annum.

The second HTT-40 production line at HAL’s Nashik facility was formally inaugurated by Defence Minister Rajnath Singh on October 17, 2025. The assembly complex houses structural assembly shops for the manufacture of HTT-40 fuselages, wings and control surfaces.^[x]

While deliveries of the HTT-40 were planned to begin in September 2025, the IAF is now likely to receive its first aircraft in 2026. Deliveries of all 70 aircraft are to be completed by HAL by March 2030.

Training Impact

The IAF has one of the largest requirements in the Indo-Pacific region for trained pilots, navigators and weapon systems officers. Over two decades ago, the air force had planned to train 220 pilots annually during 2001-05; however, as per information provided by the Ministry of Defence (MoD) to the Parliamentary Standing Committee, there was a shortfall ranging from 15 to 31 per cent. A decade later, in February 2015, the IAF assessed that it had a shortage of 486 pilots. At that time, the air force had proposed to increase the number of trainees from 260 to 350 pilots every year by 2017.

A 2024 Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India on Training of Pilots in Indian Air Force presented in Parliament in December 2024 stated that “between the period 2016 to 2021, against the planned initial intake of 222 trainees annually, the initial annual intake ranged between 158 and 204 trainees. Also, the annual intake after wastage ranged between 124 and 167. As a result, the shortage of pilots rose from 486 to 596, which was expected to be filled up between January 2021 and January 2030,” the CAG report informed.

The IAF has a pressing need to have its requirement for 181 basic trainers fulfilled, but this has been impacted by the delay in deliveries of the HTT-40.  The IAF’s Stage I requirement will only be fully met when induction of all 108 HTT-40s is complete, joining the present fleet of 74 PC-7 MK IIs.

New Age Trainer

The HTT-40 is fitted with a state-of-the-art glass cockpit and modern avionics and can attain a maximum speed of 450 kilometres per hour, along with a maximum service ceiling of six kilometres. The HTT-40 is powered by a single Honeywell TPE331-12B turboprop engine fitted with a four-blade lightweight Hartzell aluminium propeller. TPE 331-5 turboprop engines have been produced at HAL since 1988, and its engine division is also an authorised service centre for TPE331-5 to –12 series engines.

Each aircraft features two Martin-Baker Mk16 Zero-Zero ejection seats. There are over 1,000 Martin-Baker Seats already in service in the IAF and Indian Navy. The aircraft also features indigenously developed avionics for radio communication, standby communication, VOR-ILS, TACAN, Radio Altimeter, Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) and Integrated Standby Instrument System (ISIS).

The HTT-40 has a glide ratio of 12:1 and a maximum load factor +6/-3 G. HAL quotes a Maximum Take-Off Weight (MTOW) of 3,040 kg with 460 kg of internal fuel. However, the normal training weight of the aircraft will be 2,800 kg. The time to climb to three km is quoted at 7.05 minutes, while the service ceiling is six km. The aircraft will have a maximum range of just over1,000 km and a maximum endurance of four hours.

The HTT-40 is capable of hot-refuelling, which allows the aircraft to be refuelled with the engine running. It is also capable of undertaking a running change, where, with the engine running, the propellers can be put into reverse, changing the blade angle. This results in no rotor downwash, allowing the canopy to be opened and the next cadet to strap into the aircraft. The HTT-40 flight test crew have rated cockpit visibility, crew comfort and the Environmental Control System as excellent. During conducted hot weather trials at Nashik, the cockpit temperature was maintained at a comfortable 25 °C as against an outside air temperature of 47 °C.

The HTT-40 features a largely all-metal construction and makes limited use of composites. HAL has put in extensive effort to ensure that the aircraft is easily maintainable, with the aim of achieving a high daily sortie rate along with high flight line availability. The indigenously developed BTAs are expected to fly 300 hours annually and will have a Total Technical Life (TTL) of 10,000 hours/30 years. HAL aims to deliver a 1200-hour Time Between Overhaul (TBO).^[11]

Development of indigenous military platforms has substantially spun off to the local industry. The HTT-40 is expected to have an indigenous content of 56 per cent for the initial aircraft produced, and this will progressively increase to over 60 per cent over the course of the programme through indigenisation of major components and subsystems. The HTT-40 programme could eventually provide direct employment to approximately 1,500 personnel, along with indirect employment for up to 3,000 people spread over more than 100 MSMEs.

Training Day

Basic Flight Training is the bedrock of IAF training for its pilots and aircrew, and the induction of the HTT-40 into service will provide a much-needed boost in BTA numbers for the IAF. The IAF is rapidly inducting new fighter aircraft, transport aircraft and helicopters, and the availability of sufficient numbers of trained pilots and aircrew is vitally important.

The HTT-40 marks the return of an indigenously developed BTA into the air force, and this is very welcome indeed. Hindustan Aeronautics will need to ensure that it delivers the promised aircraft on time, with high standards of quality, and is well supported in terms of maintenance and spare parts. The imminent induction of the HTT-40 into IAF service marks a new chapter for India’s military aviation and self-reliance and continues the legacy of the HT-2 and HPT-32.

*****

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Notes:

[1] Atul Chandra, “https://www.flightglobal.com/india-taps-locally-made-htt-40-as-next-basic-trainer/120919.article”, Flight Global, June 21, 2016. Accessed on December 20, 2025.

[2] Mr R Madhavan, HAL CMD in Q&A with author, 10-29-2020.

[3] Mr. Prashant Singh Bhadoria, Project Manager for HTT 40 in Q&A with author 11-30-2020

[4] Show News, https://aviationweek.com/shownews/paris-airshow/honeywell-provide-engines-hal-made-indian-training-aircraft, Aviation Week, June 17, 2015, Accessed on December 20, 2025.

[5] Mr. Prashant Singh Bhadoria, Project Manager for HTT 40 in Q&A with author 11-30-2020

^[6] Atul Chandra, “India’s Homegrown Trainer” Air Forces Monthly January 2021, p.85

[7] Press information Bureau, Government of India, “DAC approves procurement proposals worth Rs 8,722.38 crore, including 106 Basic Trainer Aircraft for IAF,” August 11, 2020, https://www.pib.gov.in/PressReleaseIframePage.aspx?PRID=1645092&reg=3&lang=2. Accessed on December 20, 2025.

[8] Press Information Bureau, Government of India, “ HAL receives Request for Proposal for 70 HTT-40 Basic Trainer Aircraft from Indian Air Force at Aero India 2021,” February 04, 2021, https://www.pib.gov.in/Pressreleaseshare.aspx?PRID=1695163&reg=3&lang=2. Accessed on December 20, 2025.

^[9] Press Information Bureau, Government of India. “Union Cabinet approves procurement of 70 HTT-40 Basic Trainer Aircraft from HAL for Indian Air Force at a cost of over Rs 6,800 crore,” March 01, 2023,  https://www.pib.gov.in/PressReleasePage.aspx?PRID=1903445&reg=3&lang=2. Accessed on September 1, 2025.

^[10] Press Information Bureau, Government of India, “Flight of self-reliance: Raksha Mantri inaugurates 3rd Production Line of LCA Mk1A & 2nd Production Line of HTT-40 at HAL Nashik,” October 17, 2025, https://www.pib.gov.in/PressReleasePage.aspx?PRID=2180339&reg=3&lang=1. Accessed on October 17, 2025.

^[11] CAPSS research visit to HAL, August 2025.

The post A History of Partnership: The Indian Air Force and the Growth of Indigenous Basic Trainer Production in South India appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: Gaganyaan, Helipcopter, Indian Air Force, Choppers, World War II, Helicopter Units, Helicopter Operations

“Aapatsu Mitram- Friend in Time of Trouble”- that’s what they came to be called; as they rescued citizens from a flooding Yamuna, barely a year into their raising. Quietly flying into storms, floods, and conflict zones, putting their lives on the line for their country. For all the thunder their rotors brought to the skies, their own stories of inception and rise often went silent… Stories of grit, duty, perseverance and quiet heartbreak… Told by and known to only a select few.

So today, we ask- have we paid enough attention? Have we truly honoured their service? It’s time we did. It’s time we remembered.

**********

I sat down to write this piece at a time when historic tailwinds are propelling India’s aerospace theatre forward…

Op Sindoor dealt an unmistakable blow. India’s stand-off arsenal and air defence web got cracking like never before. ISRO is racing against time to launch its Gaganyaan mission. And amidst all, Group Captain Shubhanshu Shukla has become the first Indian to board the International Space Station.

I look above and around and see India blazing forward, soaring, writing history…

But as I lower my gaze, they fall on my hands. And clutched within, carved on the tattered, frayed pages of India’s old historical documents, sit stories from another bygone era… Another age. Another sky. Another storm.

Of all the wounds etched into India’s memory, the winter war of 1962 cut the deepest. The

Indo-China War. Raging on the world’s highest mountains- the Himalayas. A place where oxygen thins, wind howls like a predatory beast and the morbid cold breaks your bones and soul… A frozen graveyard. That’s where our soldiers fought- under fire, outgunned, outmanned…

Over six decades ago, in that thick fog of war, on those godforsaken windswept mountain ridges, whirring birds of steel and blades had dived in and saved lives. In that dead of winter, the Indian Air Force helicopter arm, barely ten years old, had found its fire.

To tell the story of these helicopters, it is essential to tell the story of that war. While the outcome of the war and its true victor remain entangled in political haze, the contributions and achievements of the IAF choppers stand clear- unanimously celebrated by historians and experts. New, untested, thrust into their first-ever war. Operating in sub-zero temperatures, rarefied air, and sustained enemy engagement

But to understand the staggering grit of that hour, one must fly back. Back to the ashes of a world war. To the burning Burma of 1944.

1944

Over The Burmese Sky: A New Kind of Flight

A tale that begins not in India, but in the war-ravaged jungles of Burma. As four men lay wounded and stranded behind enemy lines, a strange buzzing filled the sky. And then, it appeared…

April, 1944. During the Allied Burma Campaign of World War II, a Sikorsky YR-4B helicopter of the United States Army Air Forces’ (USAAF) 1st Air Commando Group executed what is widely recognised as the first combat helicopter rescue in history. Under the command of Lieutenant Carter Harman and operating from a forward base in Lalaghat, Assam, the YR-4B conducted four sorties into hostile jungle terrain. Its mission was to extract three wounded British soldiers and a downed USAAF pilot from behind Japanese lines near Mawlu, Burma. [1]

Figure 1. The Sikorsky YR-4B Hoverfly.  Courtesy:  Picryl archives.

Figure 2. A Sikorsky YR-4B/HNS-1 undergoes testing at the Langley Air Force Base’s historic 30 x 60 Full-Scale Tunnel, where a technician prepares camera equipment for stopped-action rotor blade photography. Courtesy: DVIDS archives.

Back then, the Sikorsky YR-4B, the world’s first operational rescue helicopter, was less of an aircraft and more of an experimental platform, a prototype. And yet, when all else had failed for the wounded and trapped in those dense Burmese Jungles, “Send the eggbeater in!” Colonel Philip Cochran (Commanding Officer- 1st Air Commando Group) had demanded. [2]

 And in went the eggbeater…

Untested, unproven- a rattling, shuddering contraption, flying on as much optimism and prayers as on fuel. Compared to today’s multi-role helicopters, the YR‑4B was little more than a flying skeleton. Vibrating in protest as it barely flew with only Lt. Carter Harman (pilot) aboard. Its Warner 500 radial engine wheezing against the tropical heat- trying to climb the altitude it clearly didn’t want to.[3]

The thin, hot Burmese air had made the underpowered engine’s life harder. The rotor’s chopping ability was compromised, and the lift was so weak and uncertain that leaving the ground felt like asking for a favour from gravity. And the payload? One passenger only, if he promised not to inhale too hard.[4]

The eggbeater obviously offered no armour.

No redundancy or backup systems. Minimal instrumentation. No insulation either. Just the pilot sweating into the controls while heat, vibration, and noise seeped straight into his hands, spine, and nerves. And fuel? Lt. Harman had to strip away the copilot’s seat, pack petrol cans in its stead (21 gallons in four jerrycans), fly halfway, land in any scrap of clearing he could find, and refuel before daring the next leg.[6]

But between a brave, ingenious pilot and a machine refusing to acknowledge its own flying manual, the eggbeater made it work. Despite the constraints, the YR‑4B achieved what neither fixed‑wing aircraft nor ground transport could: precise vertical rescue from terrain that was otherwise inaccessible under combat conditions.

Figure 3. First Expeditionary Rescue Group Activation: A U.S. Air Force Museum photo, likely taken in January 1945, shows Lt. Carter Harman (standing left) with his ground crew, including crew chief and mechanic Sgt. Jim Phelan (front row right). Beside Lt. Harman stands Lt. Frank Peterson, an experienced R-4 test pilot who later carried out another notable Burma rescue mission in a YR-4B. Courtesy: DVIDS archives.

That day, the helicopter added a new dimension to aviation and airpower, one in which aircraft could also reach and recover with pinpoint precision… A solution to one of the most intractable problems of warfare- the CASEVAC (Casualty Evacuation). The helicopters could operate where runways didn’t exist, roads were impassable, and every minute could mean the difference between life and death.

History’s first-ever military helicopter evacuee had summarised this fact in one sentence. “You look like an Angel!” he had told Lt. Harman.[6]

Fighters could destroy, but helicopters could bring you home.

But how does a rescue in the Burmese jungle- carried out by a helicopter bearing American markings, saving British soldiers- connect with the inception of the IAF’s helicopter arm? Because this was where the idea took root. The first operational use of a helicopter in the Indian subcontinent, flown by American pilots and launched from an Indian airfield, played out before Indian military personnel. Serving alongside British and American forces at Ground Zero, they saw, up close, what a helicopter could do.

An unmistakable lesson: from the Himalayas to the Indo‑Burmese jungles- where fixed wings were constrained by runways and space, the rotary wings could offer mobility without boundaries.

Post-Independence, as the newborn India grappled with rebuilding its military, the memory of that jungle buzz and the imagery of that absurd little craft saving lives would return soon.

1947-1954

An Independent India: Setting Blades in Motion

The newly independent India inherited a military patterned after the British Empire’s. Fixated on fighter and bomber squadrons as the jewels of the crown, and the transport squadrons as the workhorses. The idea of helicopters remained mostly an observation, a footnote.

But not for long.

April 5, 1949. The Chiefs of Staff Committee, India’s highest inter‑service planning body, agreed on one thing: Helicopters could serve the military services. India’s defence forces were manning a jagged terrain. With a threadbare infrastructure. And here was a machine that could drop into a paddy field, land on a mountain top, or hover over a river. Orders were given to raise a flight and find out what more it could do. But first, a Joint Planning Sub‑Committee was to probe its potential, costs and limitations.[7]

Brigadier Sam Manekshaw took the chair, flanked by naval and air officers. But the report that rolled out was far from being an endorsement… Credits and praises were tempered with caution and limitations.

In its report, some of the key points the sub-committee observed were:[8]

Sitting in 2025, when helicopters are an indispensable part of defence forces across the globe, the ‘1949 view’ of them reads almost amusing. Back then, the helicopter was a curious case. So unfamiliar, in fact, that the Sub‑Committee had to begin its deconstruction from the very basics, which could have almost unfolded like:

It flies: Vertically Up! Vertically Down! Backward! Sideways! Can hover in place!

It lands: In paddy fields! On clearings! Even on snow plateaus!

The committee spoke of these abilities as “peculiar flying characteristics”! Possibly a polite, 1949 military way of marvelling at how this thing could even stay up?! Stopping mid-air. Just hanging in there!

Figure 4. The actual non-dramatic text from the sub-committee report. (Pardon the author’s knack and need for dramatising things), Courtesy: “Requirement of a helicopter flight for the defence services” (Chiefs of Staff Committee Agreement and JPSC Report), JPSC Paper No. 10(49).

A helicopter’s uses sounded heroic enough. From extracting stranded people from jungles and the sea to slipping intelligence agents into enemy countries. But the romance faded quickly. It was found to be mechanically temperamental, stuffed with parts that wore out quickly, prone to sulking in bad weather, and happiest only when the skies were calm. It could, in theory, land anywhere- provided it had a cover of air superiority and provided that “anywhere” was done slowly, low, and away from the enemy’s rifles.

The cost calculation didn’t help either. For a military struggling with post-independence budgetary constraints, four machines, their spares, tools, and training, would drain INR 16 lakh at once and INR 5 lakh each year thereafter. Maintenance costs (30 per cent of the initial aircraft cost) alone were twice those of a fixed-wing aircraft (15 per cent).[9]

And since no one in the Royal Indian Air Force or the Army had so much as touched a helicopter, 60 per cent of the personnel- from pilots to fitters to riggers- would have to be trained in the UK or the USA.[10]

Figure 5. A page from the subcommittee report detailing the cost projections,  Courtesy: “Estimated cost of a helicopter flight” (Chiefs of Staff Committee Agreement and JPSC Report), JPSC Paper No. 10(49).

Perhaps one of the most telling lines, buried in the ‘personnel’ section, read:

“A trained pilot of a fixed‑wing aircraft finds some difficulty in learning to fly a helicopter as he has to unlearn quite a lot about flying.”

To which the subcommittee had added, without irony, that “ab‑initio pilots do not experience such a difficulty.”

In other words, the clean slates learnt the fastest.

In that July 1949 report, the recommendation was clear: Wait. Let the technology mature. Let the engineers iron out the gremlins. Wait until India’s scarce defence budget can spare the funds without harming higher priorities. The helicopter would have to wait a little longer for its moment.

The IAF did propose an expansion plan in December 1952, proposing the establishment of a helicopter flight with Sikorsky S-55 helicopters.[11]

And although the sentiments supporting the need to have them were further bolstered by their exemplary performance in the Korean War, probably the final, decisive push came from a civilian.

In 1953, India’s first CHPL (Commercial Helicopter Pilot Licences) was granted to Capt Rustom C. Captain, a civil aviator. And in a symbolic masterstroke, he flew Prime Minister Nehru and the Bombay Home Minister in his Hiller UH-12B. The short flight left a strong impression and placed helicopters firmly on India’s leadership radar.

But there is another version, or rather, another layer to this history. The Indian Navy’s ambition for an aircraft carrier fleet unexpectedly brought the IAF and helicopters together. The Naval Aviation Directorate needed air-sea rescue helicopters, and when a single-platform solution for all services was considered, the proven S-55 (already in use across the US military in Korea) emerged as the obvious choice. In October 1953, Air Marshal Gerald Gibbs, then Chief of the Air Staff, approved Naval Chief Admiral Pizey’s proposal: the IAF would temporarily take custody of the S-55s, train its pilots and technicians to induct India’s first military helicopters, and later hand them over to the Navy once personnel were ready.[12]

**********

December 27, 1953. Wheels in motion. The Defence Committee of the Cabinet overruled the earlier financial objections. Sanction granted. Decision made- Raise India’s first helicopter flight. The machine was coming… and with it, a new chapter in military aviation…

1954

104 Helicopter Flight: The Vanguard’s Rise

Motto: APATSU MITRAM- “Friend in Time of Trouble” Formation Date & Place: March 10, 1954, Palam (3 Wing) Founding Personnel: Two pilots, one engineering officer, five technicians

First Commanding Officer: Flt Lt A Neal Todd

Initial Aircraft: Sikorsky S‑55 (IZ‑648, IZ‑649, IZ‑650)

March 10, 1954. 104 Flight was raised. A handful of men stood at the edge of the unknown. Two pilots, one engineering officer, five technicians. Four of these- Flight Lieutenant S.K. Majumdar and Flight Lieutenant Allison Neil Todd (both pilots), Flying Officer K.K. Mitra (engineering officer) and technicians Flight Sergeant Rawat and Sergeant Sharma had come back after getting trained in the United States.

The Flight’s very first helicopter, the Sikorsky S-55 (tail number IZ-648) had arrived by sea at Bombay on March 19, 1954. By March 23, its assembly was complete. At Juhu, it underwent rigorous ground and air tests. And finally, on March 26, Flt Lt A. Neal Todd and Flt Lt Mitra, the Engineering Officer, ferried the IZ-648 to Palam- the base, destined to be the cradle of Indian military rotary-wing aviation. [13] And the men went on to become the pioneers shaping rotary aviation in India. Flt Lt A N Todd, as the first Commanding Officer of the 104 Helicopter Flight, spearheaded the IAF’s initial foray into rotary-wing aircraft, piloting the first Sikorsky S-55 ferry, and undertaking the first mercy mission that earned helicopters the “Harbingers of Life” sobriquet.[14]

Flt Lt S K Majumdar, the flamboyant architect of helicopters in India, laid the foundational operational and training doctrines. He single-handedly trained many early helicopter pilots, penned the essential Manual of Helicopter Operations, led the first overseas helicopter mission, and achieved India’s first rooftop landing. His command tenures of the 104

Helicopter Unit (HU) and the Helicopter Training Unit further cemented his enduring legacy in Indian rotary aviation.

Flt Lt Mitra was the person behind the first Maintenance Conversion Flight (MCF), soon after the first Sikorsky reached Palam. The painstaking task of training the IAF’s first aircrew and technicians in this strange, vertical-flying craft started under his watchful eyes.

For these pioneers, there were no manuals. No veterans to turn to. No precedent in the IAF’s proud history of fighters and bombers… A never-before-done first. Looking back, one can only try to imagine what this small band of pioneers, standing at the Palam dispersal, looking at the Sikorsky, would have felt like… Perhaps the burden of this responsibility? Perhaps a raw conviction that they would make the machine fly. Whatever the truth, that morning, cracking open a new chapter, they added a vertical dimension to our air ops. In those Palam dispersals, the IAF’s first helicopter flight was born, tilting the IAF’s horizon skyward and upward.

It was a ‘Flight’, not a ‘Unit’, by design. The Chiefs of Staff Committee recommended that helicopters be first tried in a limited, experimental formation to assess suitability before committing fully. Financial caution had also weighed in. And therefore, the plan was to begin with the smaller of the two formations.

But in that choice, history repeated itself. When the IAF itself was born in 1932, its first operational component was not a squadron but a Flight raised at Drigh Road in 1933: four Westland Wapiti biplanes, six RAF-trained Indian officers, and nineteen Havai Sepoys (from that humble kernel grew an Air Force, which 93 years on, has gone on to become one of the world’s biggest and most powerful).[15] Two decades after the IAF’s first unit was raised, the Sikorsky Flight at Palam was cast in the same mould… Compact team, limited tech- but each unlocking new strategic dimensions. Just as the early fighters allowed India to begin building aerial combat and reconnaissance capacity, the early helicopter flights opened up vertical mobility in conflict and disaster zones.

The Wapiti Flight had given India its wings; the Sikorsky Flight gave it lift.

Just two days after its arrival, the S-55 found itself in the middle of a spectacle of aerial power. A show which was to be witnessed by over one Lakh people.

Figure 5. Details regarding the Air Display from 104 HU’s ORB.

On March 28, 1954, at the IAF’s 21st Anniversary Air Display (then part of the April 01 “Air Force Day” celebrations tradition, observed from 1933 till 1976, to mark No. 1 Squadron’s formation on April 01, 1933; the date gained added significance in 1954 when Air Marshal Subroto Mukerjee became the first Indian Chief of Air Staff. In 1976, the observance was moved to October 08, the date of the IAF Act in 1932 and the first Indian officer commissions), at Tilpat Range, the programme listed an impressive roster. No fewer than 10 combat squadrons and two specialist units (Dakotas for paratrooping and Packets for demonstration) are taking part, fielding Spitfires, Vampires, Ouragans (Toofanis), Tempests, Liberators, and Harvards in precision aerobatics, bombing runs, and rocket firing sequences.[16]

Amid this thunder of piston and jet fighters, a solitary new entrant appeared. The S-55. The fledgling IAF helicopter crew had been assigned its maiden mission: carrying Prime Minister Nehru himself to the venue, and half an hour later, demonstrating for the first time in public its existence and flying capabilities.

Figure 6. Details regarding the Air Display from 104 HU’s ORB.

For almost all of the spectators, this would have been their very first glimpse of a helicopter in flight. And the contrast would not have been any sharper. Sleek jets tearing the sky with their speed and sound, while the helicopter entering with a whirring, thrashing presence of its own. Vertical flight, hovering abilities, extreme precision and control.

The lone helicopter would have caught the fancy of its spectators- both within and outside the service. Despite the initial hesitation, the ‘eggbeater’s’ capabilities were coming to light and were probably being acknowledged and appreciated, for 104’s infrastructure was slowly expanding. By March 31, nine airmen of various technical trades were posted to the flight. And on August 31, 11 more were provided.

Figure 7. A page from the 104 HU ORB detailing the expansion of 104’s unit strength.

In the meantime, the lone S-55 was already proving its worth in daring rescues. On July 20 and again on August 14, downed Vampire pilots Flight Officers Sher Karan Singh and M.S. “Minhi” Bawa were extracted to safety. The latter, piloted by Flt Lt S.K. Majumdar, was probably India’s first ‘Search and Rescue’ mission. A highly accomplished pilot and instructor, Majumdar was not just flying missions but also, in effect, writing the operational manual and evolving procedures for various helicopter roles, including search and rescue.

With no established procedures for helicopter rescue, the pilots had to rely on raw skill, judgment, and improvisation. And the single S-55, loyal to its masters, pressed on relentlessly, executing more missions, cementing more feats. And soon, on September 21 that same year, it was joined by a second S-55 in the unit.

Then came a mission that spoke of science as much as aviation. 1954 was the year India formally expanded its atomic programme by creating the Department of Atomic Energy. And soon, the newborn 104 HF was drawn into an unlikely role. On September 23, 1954, it lifted off on a radiation survey, the helicopter fitted with specialised detection gear and carrying the Government’s atomic research advisor, Darashaw Nosherwan Wadia. In effect, the aircraft became a flying laboratory, testing whether this strange new machine could serve as the eyes and ears of atomic science.[17] It was uncharted work, but the fact that the IAF’s newest and least proven arm was chosen for such a sensitive task spoke volumes: a signal of trust in the helicopter’s potential to serve science, security, and the nation’s future.

On September 28, 104 Helicopter Flight undertook the IAF’s first mercy mission.  Flt Lt A.N. Todd piloted a Sikorsky S-55 to rescue 15 villagers stranded on a sandbank of the flooded Yamuna near Delhi. In that moment, the helicopter revealed a role far beyond combat.[18] A saviour in times of crisis. The press hailed it as the “Harbinger of Life,” while the newspaper

Dainik Jagaran coined the term Aapatsu Mitram, meaning a friend in times of distress. This powerful motto subsequently became, and for a long time remained, the official motto for all helicopter units in the IAF.

That single act marked a decisive shift in public perception and internal strategy. It underscored that the IAF was not merely a defender of the Indian airspace, but also a vital saviour of its citizens in times of calamity. What is commonplace today- helicopters saving lives in flash floods, earthquakes, avalanches and other disasters- was born that day on the banks of the Yamuna.

In December 1954, following the operational order no 51/54, Flt Lt Majumdar set course to Bombay to test-fly and ferry the third S-55 back to Palam. And a month later, on January 26, 1955, the unit flew at the Republic Day fly-past for the first time.

Figure 8. The 1955 Republic Day fly-past was the first time an IAF helicopter flew in an RDFP.

Courtsey: ORB, 104 HU.

However, the very missions that proved the helicopter’s worth also exposed its vulnerabilities. By April 1955, reality bit. The S‑55s were mechanically demanding. Serviceability sank to 46.6 per cent. Of the three helicopters, maintenance nightmares grounded two. Only one remained serviceable.[19] Yet operational demands grew. And in May 1955, the sole flyable S‑55 was sent to Jorhat for civil relief duties during floods in Assam. An uncharted territory, no backups, no margin for error.

Floods in Odisha and Punjab in late 1955 wrung the machines further. Crashes came. Floods worsened. The unit relocated to Kanpur for repair support. And by December 1956, serviceability dropped to zero. Zero.

But 104 didn’t shut down.

In September 1956, the unit temporarily shifted to Kanpur, a move driven by investigations into recurring accidents and the urgent need for stronger maintenance support. Operating under the shadow of the No. 1 Base Repair Depot offered direct access to specialised expertise, and the gamble paid off. Serviceability improved, and the unit was soon back to high-profile VVIP lifts for the Prime Minister and the Defence Minister, until December, when mechanical attrition once again brought serviceability to zero.

To save precious hours on the hard-pressed S-55s, the IAF ordered Bell 47G light helicopters in 1956 for ab-initio and conversion training. The decision stemmed from a clear recognition that a dedicated trainer was essential, much like the pattern followed in fixed-wing aviation. A comprehensive audit of early helicopter operations had shown that without such an aircraft, the bigger, more complex S-55s were being consumed by basic training tasks at the cost of operational availability. The Bell 47G thus offered a dual advantage: conserving the flying life of the larger machines while providing a structured training platform. It was also earmarked for Army reconnaissance and liaison duties, giving it an operational relevance beyond the classroom.

On December 26, 1957, two Bell 47Gs were inducted. And barely a day after their induction, they were dispatched overseas on flood relief duty in Ceylon. Led by Squadron Leader S.K. Majumdar, the detachment flew round-the-clock sorties dropping supplies, ferrying medical teams, and rescuing the stranded. It was the IAF’s first overseas helicopter mission, and its success won widespread acclaim.

On May 1,1958, the Flight came of age. Its achievements, daring missions, and growing responsibilities had already proven that the helicopter had a rightful place in the IAF’s order of battle. It was formally upgraded to the service’s first Helicopter Unit. Squadron Leader S.K. Majumdar, the pioneer who had shaped its ethos and written the very manual of helicopter operations, now took command of the historic unit. A milestone that marked the true birth of helicopter power in the Indian Air Force.[20]

From thereon, the pace of innovation only quickened. On March 31, 1959, Majumdar achieved India’s first rooftop landing, delicately placing a Bell 47G3 on the roof of ‘Ram Kutir’ in Calcutta, the Headquarters of No. 1 Operational Group. That same year, in April, the unit trained the first two naval pilots on helicopters. This demonstrated that the IAF was responsible for training both fixed-wing and helicopter pilots for the Navy. Subsequently, a Sikorsky S-55 helicopter was even loaned to the Navy for Air-Sea Rescue and plane guard duties aboard INS Vikrant.

Humanitarian missions, too, followed. A detachment under Majumdar moved to Daporijo in the North-East Frontier Agency (NEFA) with two S-55s and two Bells. They evacuated more than 200 Tibetan refugees from the remote village of Limiking in 1959, following the Chinese invasion of Tibet. It was a dramatic demonstration of the helicopter’s ability to bring hope and relief to the most inaccessible corners of the Himalayas.

As the tempo of operations increased, new machines joined the fleet. The Soviet-built  Mi-4, inducted in 1960 after outperforming the S-62 in trials, soon earned the title of the IAF’s “Workhorse.” For a time, 104 HU simultaneously operated three types- S-55s, Bells, and Mi-4s- each serving a different purpose but together forming a potent force.

The pioneering spirit was evident again in early 1961, when the Alouette III was put through its paces in Indian conditions. Squadron Leader V.K. Sahgal, then commanding 104 HU, flew with Sud Aviation’s chief test pilot, M. Boulet, to an altitude of 19,500 feet in the Spiti Valley, setting a world record and proving the aircraft’s worth for India’s demanding terrain.[21]

By mid-1961, the unit was already operating at the edges of war. In July, Bell 47Gs flew into the Ladakh sector during the Galwan Valley crisis, evacuating casualties from Chushul and Leh at heights above 10,000 feet- a first for Indian helicopters. Only weeks earlier, Sahgal

himself had led search-and-rescue missions near the Tibet border to find a missing Dakota transport aircraft. Braving hostile weather and high mountains, he eventually located survivors and personally evacuated them. His leadership and gallantry earned him the Vayu Sena Medal on Independence Day.

By the eve of the Chinese aggression in late 1962, the Firebirds had transformed from a handful of men and one untried helicopter into India’s most battle‑ready helicopter unit. They had lifted Prime Ministers, rescued airmen, flown atomic surveys, pioneered rooftop landings, and touched record‑breaking altitudes.

But their greatest test and their first war was yet to come. And when it did, the price would be paid in both machines and men.

1959

105 Helicopter Unit: The Rise of the Eastern Shield

Motto: APATSU MITRAM- “Friend in Time of Trouble” Formation Date & Place: November 23, 1959, Jorhat (10 Wing) First Commanding Officer: Flt Lt MS Kapoor

Initial Aircraft: Bell helicopters, specifically Bell 47G-3 or Bell 47G-5

105 Helicopter Unit was raised on November 23, 1959, at Jorhat, Assam. Its starting aircraft were Bell 47Gs, small and nimble, but tasked with an outsized role: to cover some of the most forbidding terrain in the world. From Bhutan to Burma, across dense jungles, insurgency-hit valleys, and skies ruled by hostile weather, the unit carried its fragile machines into places where few others dared.[22]

Figure 9. Image Source: Unit History, 105 Helicopter Unit.

By the early 1960s, 105 HU was already pushing into the frontlines of counter-insurgency operations in Tawang, Pasighat, Kibitoo, and beyond. These were theatres where maps were often vague, helipads were little more than afterthoughts, and combating guerrillas demanded precision from the air. Its pilots flew night drops, executed single-pilot landings on tiny clearings, and carried out vertical casualty evacuations under fire. In these years, for its precise, almost surgical missions, the unit earned its first gallantry awards.

The IAF, meanwhile, looked to expand its training base. To train, to convert, to dream- it turned to the Bell 47G. Four had been ordered in 1956, and by December 26, 1957, two had arrived. They were pressed into service almost immediately, in time for a proud moment: the IAF’s first overseas helicopter deployment, flown to aid flood relief in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).[23]

From Jorhat’s dispersals to the forward ridges of Arunachal, 105 HU became the IAF’s Eastern Shield. Its early missions were the proving ground, but the true test of shield and sword was still to come- in the high Himalayan war of 1962.

1960

107 Helicopter Unit: The Desert Hawks in the Himalayas

Motto: APATSU MITRAM- “Friend in Time of Trouble”

Formation Date & Place: January 1, 1960, Jorhat (1 Wing)

First Commanding Officer: Sqn Ldr Arnold Sochindranath Williams

Initial Aircraft: S-62 and Bell 47 G-3 helicopters

Figure 10. Image Source: Unit History, 107 Helicopter Unit.

January 01, 1960. The 107 Helicopter Unit was raised at Srinagar. Starting with S-55s and Bell 47G IIIs, it faced its first significant test within little more than a year. On May 13, 1961, it became the first IAF helicopter unit to be permanently deployed at Leh. [23]

Operating at 11,000 feet above sea level was no routine feat- it was an outright miracle of rotorcraft engineering and of human will. Engines gasped in the thin air, rotors struggled for lift, and every sortie demanded the last ounce of skill from its pilots. Yet 107 HU carved out its reputation in Kashmir and Ladakh. It was here that the “Desert Hawks” were born, a moniker that contrasted the frozen white of the mountains with the ferocity of their flying.[24]

When war came in 1962, the unit’s Mi-4s were thrown straight into the line of fire. One helicopter was hit in action; it landed, regrouped, and returned to the fight. The daring of its crew was recognised when Sqn Ldr S.K. Badhwar, Sqn Ldr A.S. Williams and Flt Lt K.L. Narayanan were awarded Vir Chakras for their courage in impossible conditions.

Figures 11 and 12. Image Source: Unit History, 107 Helicopter Unit.

From Srinagar’s valleys to Leh’s rarefied airstrips, the Desert Hawks had already shown that helicopters could bend the Himalayas. Their reward was not rest but the harsher crucible of 1962, where every contour of Ladakh would be fought for.

1961

109 Helicopter Unit: The Knights Take Flight

Motto: APATSU MITRAM- “Friend in Time of Trouble”

Formation Date & Place: August 26, 1961, Chandigarh (12 Wing)

The 109 Helicopter Unit (HU), famously known as ‘The Knights’, was officially raised on August 26, 1961 at Chandigarh. Equipped with Soviet-built Mi-4 helicopters, the Knights bore their own distinctive insignia: a gallant knight on his steed, lance poised for jousting, with the motto “Ever Victorious” beneath. Its crest, trisected by rotors and framed by mountains, symbolised service on land, sea, and air, and the harsh environments where the unit was destined to operate.

Figures 13 & 14. Courtesy: Unit History, 109 Helicopter Unit.

From the outset, 109 HU was envisioned as a full-fledged helicopter unit with multifarious and multifaceted capabilities-communication and logistic support, VVIP/VIP flights, air maintenance of remote and unapproachable areas, casualty evacuations from high-altitude terrain, close air support to the Army, and large-scale troop induction by heli landing and para-dropping. The unit immediately embraced this sweeping charter and was soon fullyoperational in the Sugar sector, flying into helipads perched on the razor edge of altitude.[25]

The Mi-4 helicopters themselves were unlike the Bell or Sikorsky helicopters that had preceded them. Chosen after comparative trials in July 1960, where they outclassed the Sikorsky S-62 in almost all aspects, the Mi-4s marked the dawn of the Soviet helicopter era in the IAF. They were machines of brute force and robust construction. Unapologetically noisy, but able to climb higher, haul more, and absorb greater punishment. It was for good reason that they quickly earned the sobriquet: the “Workhorse” of the IAF.

Even before the Chinese war clouds gathered, the Knights proved their mettle. In ‘Operation Vijay’ (Liberation of Goa), between 8 and 20 December 1961, they logged 28 hours on transport and reconnaissance sorties, blooding themselves in active operations within mere months of their raising.[26]

Thus, from the plains of Goa to the frozen ridges of NEFA, the Knights carved their legend in the first year of their life. And in 1962, barely a year old, 109 HU was thrust into a full-scale conflict during the Sino-Indian War.

1961

110 Helicopter Unit: Forged in Conflict

Motto: APATSU MITRAM- “Friend in Time of Trouble” Formation Date & Place: September 11, 1962, Tezpur (11 Wing)

First Commanding Officer: Flt Lt Nirmal Chandra Banerjee Initial Aircraft: MI-4 helicopters

If you ever want to start a lively debate among Air Force historians, just bring up the question: “When exactly was No. 110 Helicopter Unit raised?”

One version, often quoted, is September 11, 1962.[27] Sounds neat, except other “official” records boldly declare the raising on August 10, 1963, at Tezpur.[28]

A grave error, because by then the Sino-Indian War was long over. And anyone suggesting 110 HU wasn’t around in ’62 is effectively erasing its role in that conflict.

In fact, veteran Air Cmde Melville Rego, who flew Mi-4s with the unit in those fateful months, is quite clear on this matter. In his detailed account of the 1962 war in an online article, he reminds us bluntly, “I should know, because I was there.” Rego flew missions during the height of the crisis, and his writing confirms 110 HU’s operational reality in ’62.

But just when you think you’ve settled the date, a third possibility emerges. One of the unit’s history cell pages claims:

“No 110 H U, AF was formed on 11 Sep 62 at 11 Wing, AF under EAC. First commander of the unit was Flt Lt N.C. Banerjee. This information gathered from Form 1500 seems erroneous as the existence of the unit before 11 Sep 62 is available in the documents of a helicopter accident BZ 590 which occurred on 30 Aug 62. Further clarification is not possible at this stage as the Government of India establishment letter and original Policy Page are not traceable. Form 1500 prior to June, 1969 are also not available to authenticate any information. Action to acquire a copy of the original policy page has already been initiated and further amendment to the above dates and information will be furnished on receipt of the required documents.”[29]

And therefore, its leadership details too, vary in available sources. While Flt Lt N.C. Banerjee is said to have held its first command between September 11, 1962 and August 17, 1963; some sources, citing 1963 as its origin year, give that honour to Sqn Ldr N.K. Gaikwad.

So, was it August 30, September 11, or August 10 of the following year? The honest answer: the original paperwork is missing, but the only certainty is that 110 HU was already in the fight when India was locking horns with China in 1962.

Figures 15 & 16. Courtesy: Unit History, 110 Helicopter Unit.

The unit was equipped with the Mil Mi-4, reflecting India’s growing reliance on Soviet rotary-wing platforms for lift and support in high-altitude and rugged terrain. From its inception until 1968, 110 maintained a two-helicopter detachment at Kumbhirgram airfield to support operations in the northeast. The same year, it formally started shifting to AF Station Kumbhirgram, completing the move on September 8, 1969, positioning itself as a permanent asset for counter-insurgency and regional air support.

From the outset, the unit was tasked with operating in some of the most challenging conditions in India’s northeast, balancing military, humanitarian, and civil roles. Its primary role was to conduct air maintenance missions across Nagaland, Mizoram, Tripura, and Arunachal Pradesh, ensuring logistical connectivity in difficult terrain, while being able to execute Special Heliborne Operations (SHBO) for counter-insurgency and troop induction.

Additionally, it was also trained for CASEVAC (Casualty Evacuation) from inaccessible and high-altitude zones, communication sorties linking forward posts with headquarters, and VVIP and VIP communication commitments.

The story of 110 HU reflected how the IAF’s rotary-wing arm was shaped in the Northeast- born of detachments, hardened by rugged terrain, and entrusted with sustaining troops in some of India’s most remote frontiers. But these formative years were not without trial. Because then came the crucible. Then came the war.

Prelude to the Fire: The Quiet Years Before 1962

In the years leading to 1962, India was gathering copious intelligence- maps, patrol reports, radio intercepts… Yet it failed to read the silence that preceded the storm. As one

retrospective account put it: “while Indian intelligence assessed Chinese military capabilities accurately, it overlooked Beijing’s political-military intentions.” The data was collected; the danger was not internalised.

The then Director of the IB, B. N. Mullik, later described the state of India’s communications-intelligence (COMINT) apparatus as a “serious handicap,” even admitting that before 1958 India was “almost at the start of our monitoring and other mechanical methods of intelligence.”

China, meanwhile, was hardly idle. The PLA had sharpened its edge in Tibet. From March 1959 to March 1962, it fought 12 major battles in central Tibet-operations that Chinese leaders later acknowledged were as much about suppressing Tibetan resistance as they were about training for Himalayan warfare. Internal PLA documents reveal that Mao saw the Tibetan campaigns as a crucible. China prepared for a conflict that few in Delhi imagined. Beijing also decreed that “the main front would be the eastern sector, specifically Tawang and Walong,” even before hostilities began.

In contrast, India’s “Forward Policy” posture was partly formed on assumptions that the Chinese would not react with force. So much so that the then Prime Minister Jawahar Lal Nehru had paid no heed to the warnings given by Sardar Vallabhai Patel, India’s then Home Minister. Sardar Patel, famously in his last letter to Nehru had written:

“While our western and non-western threat to security is still as prominent as before, a new threat has developed from the north and north-east. Thus, for the first time, after centuries, India’s defence has to concentrate itself on two fronts simultaneously. Our defence measures have so far been based on the calculations of superiority over Pakistan. In our calculations we shall now have to reckon with communist China in the north and in the north-east, a communist China which has definite ambitions and aims and which does not, in any way, seem friendly disposed towards us.”

On the morning of October 20, 1962, when thousands of Chinese troops silently descended cliffs and ridges, India’s leadership was still reciting the mantra: “the Chinese will not attack.”

That misjudgment was fatal. Without threat perception, our helicopter units- the 104, 105, 107, 109, and nascent 110- were thrown into a war that had been quietly preparing while Delhi slept. Actually, in hindsight, an even bigger mistake lay in not utilising offensive air power. The decision to restrict the Indian Air Force’s involvement, while denying it a combat role, deprived the services of a force multiplier that could have turned the tide.

At the time, Indian planners feared escalation, convinced that using the IAF offensively would trigger Chinese bombing of Indian cities. Intelligence also overestimated PLAAF strength, reinforcing a political aversion to deploying fighters and bombers. But experts now argue this was a major misread: PLAAF operations from Tibet were severely limited by altitude, short runways, and poor infrastructure, which crippled their payloads and range.[30]

Post-war reviews show India actually held a clear air advantage. Offensive air support in NEFA and Ladakh could have compensated for weak artillery, disrupted Chinese supply lines, and lifted frontline morale.  IAF’s Hunters, Gnats and Mystères were fully capable of striking Chinese concentrations while facing minimal aerial retaliation. In short, by withholding its Air Force, India sidelined the one capability that could have reshaped the battlefield at a moment when China’s own air threat was limited.[32]

What unfolded next made the stakes painfully clear. NEFA and Ladakh’s skies turned hostile- thin air, no maps, invisible borders; with the enemy waiting beneath, without the fear of an offensive airstrike, ready to attack. For the first time, India’s fledgling helicopter units were all thrown into a single war effort, and they became lifelines, flying into impossibly high terrain to keep scattered troops supplied and alive.

1962

Indo-China War: Into the Storm

104 Helicopter Unit

By 1962, the 104 HU, India’s first helicopter unit had already carved out a reputation for pathbreaking sorties in Leh, Mana Pass, and Chushul. It was no stranger to thin air and uncharted ridges. But when the war came, its detachment at Jorhat/Tezpur was thrown into the teeth of combat in NEFA.

On October 20, 1962, tragedy struck. Sqn Ldr V.K. Sahgal, commanding officer of 104 HU, was flying a Bell 47G on a casualty evacuation mission from Zimithang to Tsangdhar in the Tawang sector. His light helicopter was hit by PLA small arms fire. He and his passenger, Maj Ram Singh, were killed. The helicopter, captured intact, was later displayed in Chinese hands. Sahgal’s death marked the IAF’s first helicopter war casualty. A searing symbol of sacrifice at the very outset of hostilities.

Yet 104’s sorties before and after this loss carried immense weight. Its Bells performed unprecedented feats in Leh and Chushul, flying above 10,000 feet AMSL, carrying casualties and supplies where fixed-wing aircraft and even mules could not dare to tread. After Sahgal’s death, Sqn Ldr S.K. Majumdar briefly returned to steady the unit. The very officer who had authored the Manual of Helicopter Operations years earlier.

For 104 HU, 1962 was both an ending and a beginning: the loss of its first CO, and the cementing of helicopters as indispensable frontline assets in the Himalayan war.

105 Helicopter Unit

If 104 bore the war’s first loss, 105 HU bore its heaviest load. Raised in 1959 at Jorhat, its mandate was reconnaissance, communications, and evacuation. In the war, it became the rotary wing’s backbone of the entire NEFA sector.

The numbers alone tell a staggering story: over the course of the conflict, 716 sorties in

558.15 flying hours; 14,625 kg of supplies transported; 356 casualties evacuated; 135 personnel airlifted. Within those totals lay operations of almost impossible daring.

1. October 1962, Zimithang detachment: 293 sorties flown, 135 hours logged, 57 casualties saved.

2. Tsangdhar operations: 4,200 kg of supplies carried into forward posts under fire.

3. November-December mercy missions: Over 100 sorties dropping 7,000 kg of rations and evacuating 35 soldiers.

4. December alone: 90 sorties pulled 70 men out of the jaws of death.

But statistics alone cannot capture the desperation in those valleys. Pilots of 105 HU flew Bell 47Gs, S-55 Sikorskys, and later Alouette IIIs, often overloaded, carrying up to 10 passengers in one lift, rotor blades inches from trees and rocks. Landings were on helipads barely the size of a rotor disc. On one night mission, Sqn Ldr A.S. Williams used a hand torch for illumination to drop ammunition and evacuate casualties, earning a Vir Chakra.

The human toll was heavy. A detachment at Zimithang lost three helicopters- two to enemy fire, and one abandoned as the post fell. When the position collapsed, one officer and eight airmen trekked for eight days through the jungle without food or shelter, even denied assistance by some Army authorities. Morale wavered as aircrew saw posts they had supplied fall within days, their efforts seemingly “wasted.” Yet they flew on.

105 HU spanned the entire border from Bhutan to Burma. It ferried, it rescued, it endured. In the Himalayas of 1962, it was the IAF’s workhorse of flesh and steel.

107 Helicopter Unit

In the western theatre, the burden fell on 107 HU, raised just two years earlier in Srinagar. It was the first unit to operate permanently out of Leh, a pioneering move that positioned it at the very edge of Himalayan aviation.

By 1962, its aircraft were Mi-4s- piston-engined, brutish, but capable of carrying heavy loads. The war tested them to their limits. Operating in Ladakh meant not just thin air but altitudes exceeding 9,000 ft, with operational ceilings stretched and exceeded daily.

In one defining episode, a Mi-4 was struck by enemy ground fire at an altitude of 4.8 km. The helicopter force-landed, avoiding immediate destruction. But in a feat bordering on impossible, the crew restarted, lifted off from that barren plateau, and flew the crippled machine back. Sqn Ldr A.S. Williams and Flt Lt K.L. Narayanan, who pulled this off, were awarded Vir Chakras for their gallantry.

107 HU became the first IAF helicopter unit to operate Mi-4s in Leh–Ladakh. Its pilots landed on icy strips, riverbeds, and cliff edges. They evacuated wounded, ferried supplies, and returned again and again to the front, even as hostile fire chewed at their machines. Theirs was a war of altitude and endurance, with rotor blades straining against physics itself.

109 Helicopter Unit

When the war came, 109 HU was barely a year old. Raised at Chandigarh in August 1961, it had already flown in Goa during Op Vijay. In 1962, it was flung headlong into the eastern Himalayas, its Mi-4s carrying the burden of a nation still learning the language of helicopter warfare.

109 HU’s aircraft flew CASEVAC, supply drops, communications, and troop movements. Detachments operated under HQ Eastern Air Command, often flying blind through clouds and blizzards, improvising helipads on ridgelines, landing on riverbeds. For a unit so young, every sortie was both a mission and training.

Its pilots quickly learnt that helicopter operations were not luxuries but lifelines. Their endurance transformed 109 HU from a fledgling squadron into what contemporaries called a unit that had “matured directly into adulthood.” In 1962, the Knights carved their place in the lineage of the IAF.

110 Helicopter Unit

No unit embodies the crucible of 1962 more than 110 HU. Barely formed, it was hurled into Walong and adjoining battle zones. Its missions included logistics, communication, and casualty evacuation in the most hostile sectors.

In one emblematic sortie, aircraft BZ 537, piloted by Flt Lt K.K. Saini, was hit by enemy fire near Walong. Forced down, the helicopter was captured by Chinese forces. For two months it lay in enemy hands before being recovered after the ceasefire and made airworthy again… A symbol of resilience… Saini was awarded a Vir Chakra for his courage.

110 HU’s baptism was immediate and total. Born in the heat of war, it proved that India’s rotary arm could adapt, improvise, and endure even when created mid-conflict.

Together, these units: 104, 105, 107, 109, and 110, shouldered a war that India had not foreseen. Each flew different machines, faced different terrains, and endured different tragedies. Vir Chakras were awarded to Sqn Ldr A S Williams, Flt Lt K L Narayanan, and Flt Lt K K Saini. India now knew: helicopters were not auxiliaries. They were the beating wings of survival in the Himalayas.

The Aftermath: Learnings in the Wake

The war profoundly reshaped the IAF’s helicopter doctrine and infrastructure:

1. Seamless air-ground coordination became vital, as helicopter missions were almost entirely in direct support of the Army (for casualty evacuation, resupply, and reconnaissance) making inter-service communication and planning indispensable.

2. By 1969, advance HQs of the Western Air Command (WAC) and Eastern Air Command (EAC) were co-located alongside the respective Army Commands. This institutionalised cooperation was at the strategic and operational level. This structure ensured that the planning for the deployment and logistics of helicopter assets (such as the Mi-4s and Chetaks active in this period) was done in constant synergy with the Army’s overall strategy, rather than operating independently.

3. The creation of Tactical Air Centres (TACs) established at each Army Corps HQ, now directly integrated air asset deployment, including helicopter support, into frontline ground operations. This structure allowed ground commanders to effectively utilise the “available assets”, which by the late 1960s included helicopters performing roles like troop transport, search and rescue and close air support.

4. A realisation had dawned: that helicopters weren’t just luxury tools. They were force multipliers. And most importantly, India needed more. 76 additional Mi-4s were thus, ordered post-war.

5. New units were established to handle expanded responsibilities:

5.1.111 HU- January 3, 1963, at Tezpur with Mi-4s.

5.2.112 HU- August 1, 1963, at Jorhat with Bell 47Gs.

5.3.114 HU- April 1, 1964, at Leh, initially with Chetaks.

6. The extensive operational use of the helicopters in the 1962 war underscored the critical need for logistical support capabilities and a specialised training establishment to meet the sudden, high demand for pilots and technical staff. The formal renaming of the Helicopter Training Unit (HTU) to Logistic Support Training Unit (LSTU) on December 1, 1962, reflected this shift in focus. To prepare pilots for the newly expanded units, the fledgling LSTU needed more space, specialised infrastructure, and dedicated resources than were available at Palam.[33] Therefore, it was moved to Allahabad (Bamrauli) between November 30 and December 1, 1962, placing it alongside the existing Pilot Training Establishment (PTE), facilitating the necessary expansion and conversion training required to support the rapidly growing fleet.

7. Indigenous Production Boost: Post-war importance given to HAL-SNIAS (Société Nationale Industrielle Aérospatiale, later known as simply Aérospatiale) Chetak production agreements.

8. The war prompted consideration of armed helicopter variants, as Mi-4s, even with Red Cross markings, were fired upon. Between 1962 and 1965, the IAF experimented with gun and bomb rack mounts (and used remodeled 0.5-calibre Browning machine guns from B-24 Liberator bombers) on helicopters. It then put its modified Mi-4s into action during the Indo-Pakistani War of 1965. The missions proved the value of rotary platforms in offensive roles and paved the way for the IAF’s eventual induction of modern, purpose-built attack helicopters.

9. As a ‘consequence of the faux pas in 1962’, the nation realised the importance of good roads in the mountainous borders for defence. This spurred units like 109 HU to undertake extensive flying tasks for the Border Roads Development Board to construct mountain roads in the Northeast.

Epilogue: Coming Back a Full Circle

As the rotors fall silent on this story, we return to where we began. For all the thunder that the helicopters brought to our skies, their own stories of inception and rise often went silent…

Sometimes due to oversight, sometimes due to errors, and sometimes because helicopters began as an auxiliary arm, and carried that “supporting role” tag for far too long before their true value was recognised…

Take the case of No. 110 Helicopter Unit (Vanguards). Here was a formation forged in fire, flying and fighting in 1962. And yet its very date of birth is mired in contradictory, erroneous records. Was it August 1962? September 1962? Or August 1963 (which would incongruously mean the unit did not exist during the war it actually fought!)? That we cannot say with certainty today is troubling. For if something as basic as a unit’s origin date can vanish into archival fog, what else have we lost?

And 110 is not alone. The 107 Helicopter Unit (Desert Hawks) has equally confusing paperwork: some sources fix its raising at January 1, 1960, others at 1st June 1960- both at Srinagar, both under the same commander. Meanwhile, the 105 Helicopter Unit (Daring Eagles), credited as one of the first dedicated helicopter units of the IAF, is variously listed as being raised on November 22, 1959 or November 23, 1959, at Jorhat. These may seem like small discrepancies, but together they point to a deeper problem: the institutional memory of entire squadrons can blur within a single generation.

This is not a mere quibble about paperwork. Militaries and governments the world over recognise the critical value of history-keeping, of institutional memory. Because accurate records have the power to shape doctrine, training, honours, and legacy. They give future officers something to build upon.

Despite the official irregularities, the painstaking work of historians, veterans, researchers and think tanks has kept most of these stories alive. Without them, much of this history would remain buried under clerical errors and lost files. To them, kudos. For today’s policymakers and officers, the questions remain: How do we ensure that these contradictions do not multiply? How do we institutionalise the telling of our own stories?

Because if history teaches us one thing, it is this: helicopters may have been the underdogs of the IAF fleet, but time and again they proved themselves indispensable- in war, in disaster, in peace. They carried soldiers to battle, lifted the wounded from impossible valleys, and dropped hope into villages cut off by floods… becoming lifeline, becoming saviours.

Moving forward, the author wishes and hopes that their story will not be neglected. That we will preserve the truth of when they rose, where they fought, and how they served. That future generations of air warriors will not have to ask: “But when were we born?”

Because for the men who flew those missions, and for the country they served, this is the least a nation can do. We may have forgotten their imprints on our history, but they were there the day India needed them.

*****

Notes:

[1] “The World’s First Military Combat Rescue,” Igor | Sikorsky Historical Archives, The World’s First Military Combat Rescue – Igor I Sikorsky Historical Archives. Accessed on June 8, 2025.

[2] Christopher L. Kolakowski, “Stout Pilots and Aircraft: Air Transport in the 1944 Burma–India Campaigns,” Air University (AU), November 24, 2020, https://www.airuniversity.af.edu/JIPA/Display/Article/2425703/stout-pilots-and-aircraft-air-transport-in-the-1944-bur maindia-campaigns/.  Accessed on April 18, 2025.

[3] Bob Bergin, “In 1940s Burma, a New Kind of Flying Machine Joined the War: The Helicopter,” Smithsonian Magazine, August 2019, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/air-space-magazine/helicopter-goes-to-war-180972605/. Accessed on April 19, 2025.

[4] Mark Albertson, “Saga of the Eggbeater,” Warfare History Network, October 2016, https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/article/saga-of-the-eggbeater/. Accessed on April 19, 2025.

[5] Igor | Sikorsky Historical Archives, n. 1, p. 1.

[6] Jaglavaksoldier, “Sikorsky R-4 Hoverfly,” YouTube, July 19, 2009, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3o1SFeLJTY&t=98s. Accessed on April 18, 2025.

[7] Joint Planning Sub-Committee (Brigadier S H F J Manekshaw, Chairman), “Requirement of a Helicopter Flight for the Defence Services” (Chiefs of Staff Committee Agreement and JPSC Report), JPSC Paper No. 10(49), TOP SECRET, Copy No. 5, July 4, 1949. Accessed on August 23, 2025.

[8] Joint Planning Sub-Committee, “ESTIMATED COST OF A HELICOPTER FLIGHT” (1949 Financial Estimates and Maintenance), JPSC Paper No. 10(49) Appendix ‘B’, July 4, 1949. Accessed on July 12, 2025.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Joint Planning Sub-Committee, “PROBLEMS PECULIAR TO HELICOPTERS” (Personnel and Training), JPSC Paper No. 10(49). Accessed on August 23, 2025.

[11] Nijjar, Wg Cdr B. S. “National Security Management: Some Concerns.” AIR POWER Journal, Vol. 13, No. 1 (2018). https://capsindia.org/managewebsiteportal.com/files/documents/9ee52394-a9dc-44e4-a353-abf9568b249e.pdf.  Accessed on May 30, 2025.

[12] Gupta, Anchit. “The Accidental Fleet of the IAF.” IAF History, March 27, 2024. https://iafhistory.in/2024/03/27/the-accidental-fleet-of-theiaf/#:~:text=Enter%20Air%20Marshal%20Gerald%20Gibbs,Navy%20after%20training%20their%20personnel. Accessed on May 30, 2025.

[13] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, “BRIEF HISTORY OF 104 (H) SQN (Formation and First Mission)”,

Official Unit History (221.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[14] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, “BRIEF HISTORY OF 104 (H) SQN (Formation and First Mission)”,

Official Unit History (221.pdf), accessed on September 22, 2025.

[15] Press Information Bureau, Government of India, “The Story of the Indian Air Force: A Journey Through Time,” October 07, 2024, https://www.pib.gov.in/PressNoteDetails.aspx?NoteId=153257&ModuleId=3. Accessed on August 11, 2025.

[16] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, “BRIEF HISTORY OF 104 (H) SQN (Formation and First Mission)”,

Official Unit History (221.pdf), accessed on September 22, 2025.

[17] Ibid.

[18] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, OPERATIONS (First Mercy Mission and Motto), Official Unit History (221.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[19] Nijjar, Wg Cdr B. S. “National Security Management: Some Concerns.” AIR POWER Journal, Vol. 13, No. 1 (2018). https://capsindia.org/managewebsiteportal.com/files/documents/9ee52394-a9dc-44e4-a353-abf9568b249e.pdf. Accessed on May 30, 2025.

[20] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, “BRIEF HISTORY OF 104 (H) SQN (Formation and First Mission),” Official Unit History (221.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[21] History of No. 104 HU. AIR FORCE, Meritorious/Outstanding Achievements (High Altitude World Record and Rooftop Landing), Official Unit History (221.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[22] BRIEF HISTORY OF 105 HU AF, Formation (Daring Eagles), Official Unit History (220.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[23] HISTORY OF IAF: 107 HU, INTRODUCTION (Formation, Location and Conversions), Official Unit History (209.pdf). Accessed on August 23, 2025.

[24] Ibid.

[25] HISTORY OF NO. 109 HU. AIR FORCE, Introduction: Birth of a Colossus (Formation and Aircraft), HAWS Cell Series, Squadrons of the IAF 49, 109 HU, AIR FORCE ‘THE KNIGHTS’ (334.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[26] Ibid.

[27] HISTORY OF NO. 110 HU. ATR FORCE, Introduction (Formation and 1962 Conflict), Official Unit History (212.pdf), Accessed on September 22, 2025.

[28] Ibid.

[29] Ibid.

[30] Praveen Davar, “Why air power was not used in 1962,” Indian Strategic Studies, November 18, 2016, https://www.strategicstudyindia.com/2016/11/why-air-power-was-not-used-in-1962.html. Accessed on November 15, 2025.

[31] Rahul K. Bhonsle. “Strategic Lessons of 1962: A Contemporary Retrospective”, Journal of Defence Studies, Vol. 6, Issue. 4. P-9 (2012), https://www.idsa.in/system/files/jds_6_4_RahulKBhonsle.pdf. Accessed on November 19, 2025.

[32] R. Sukumaran, “The 1962 India-China War and Kargil 1999: Restrictions on the Use of Air Power,” Strategic Analysis journal, July-September 2003,https://ciaotest.cc.columbia.edu/olj/sa/sa_jul03/sa_jul03sur01.html. Accessed on November 19, 2025.

[33] HELICOPTER TRAINING SCHOOL. AIR FORCE, Introduction (Formation and Motto), Official Unit History(221.pdf). Accessed on September 22, 2025.

The post Birth of the Sky Titans: IAF Helicopter Stories the World Forgot appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: IAF, HAL, HT-2, HPT-32, HTT-34, HTT-40, Basic Trainer

Introduction

The Indian Air Force (IAF) has a proud legacy of undertaking basic flight training in South India. IAF air bases and training establishments located in the region have made it the ‘cradle’ of military flight training in India. Since Independence, the IAF’s requirements for basic trainer aircraft have also aided in the growth of aeronautical manufacturing in Southern India. Since 1948, a total of three indigenous basic trainer aircraft, the HT-2, HPT-32 and more recently, the HTT-40, have been developed and manufactured in India. While the latter two basic trainers were vitally important in the growth of India’s nascent domestic aeronautical design and development capability, the completion of design and development of the HTT-40 signals the maturity of the nation’s domestic aerospace and defence ecosystem, which is today producing fighter aircraft, trainer aircraft, utility and attack helicopters. The first HTT-40 is slated to be delivered to the IAF this September

As we strive towards the goal of ‘Atmanirbhar Bharat’ and self-sufficiency in defence production, it is important to note that the IAF has driven the growth of India’s aeronautical industry since 1948 and will continue to do so.

This is part one of a three-part series on indigenously developed basic trainers for the Indian Air Force.

PART 1

Early Days

Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) as we know it today was originally registered by Seth Walchand Hirachand as Hindustan Aircraft Limited under the Mysore Companies Act on December 23, 1940. The work on India’s first aircraft factory formally commenced on January 12, 1941, when the foundation stone was laid for HAL’s Bangalore factory. The fledgling Hindustan Aircraft Limited assembled its first aircraft, a Harlow trainer, which flew within eight months of the company’s registration. The first local orders for aircraft production in India were awarded to HAL for assembly under license of 20 Harlow PC-5 trainers, 48 Curtiss 75A-SP Hawk fighters and 74 Vultee V-12-D attack bombers, to aid the WW II effort. [1]

By December 1942, control of Hindustan Aircraft was ceded to the United States (US) Tenth Air Force for the duration of World War II. [2] Following the end of World War II, the control of Hindustan Aircraft reverted to the Government of India in December 1945. [3] Bangalore was selected over Barrackpore and Poona to be the hub of aircraft manufacture in post-Independence India, as it was only at Hindustan Aircraft’s factories that the whole process of building an aircraft from semi-finished material had been undertaken, prior to Independence. [4]

Importantly, post-Independence, HAL immediately began the overhaul and reconstruction of approximately 150 Tiger Moth basic trainers and wartime residual Harvard advanced trainers. [5] This was crucial in allowing the IAF to begin elementary flying training immediately after Independence. HAL’s first license-produced aircraft after Independence was also a trainer aircraft, the Percival P.40 Prentice. The Prentice was developed to meet the Royal Air Force’s (RAF) requirement for a basic trainer aircraft to replace the Tiger Moth. A total of 375 units of this type were delivered to the RAF, with Argentina, India, and Lebanon being its other customers. [6] The Prentice was the RAF’s first side-by-side trainer and was also unique in that a second student could be accommodated in the rear cockpit to observe the instructor and student pilot in front!

To meet the IAF’s urgent need for a basic trainer aircraft, HAL produced sixty-five P.40 Prentice under license in just over a year. [7] The first Indian assembled Prentice made its maiden flight with HAL’s CTP Capt Jimmy Munshi at the controls on April 30, 1948. [8]

Note: Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) was formed on October 1, 1964, as the amalgamation of two companies, i.e. Hindustan Aircraft Limited and Aeronautics India Limited (created for license-production of the MiG-21 aircraft under license).

On a Wing and a Prayer

During 1947-48, discussions were held on the type of aircraft that would be designed for the first time in India. The IAF requirement for a basic trainer aircraft was accepted, and the Government of India sanctioned the development of such a type on October 11, 1948, which would also be used by flying clubs. It is interesting to note that the original plans called for three indigenous trainer aircraft types to be developed: the Hindustan Trainer 2 (HT-2) primary trainer, HT-10 advanced trainer, and HT-11 intermediate trainer. [9] However, the latter two never progressed beyond the mockup stage.

In any event, work proceeded swiftly on the HT-2 and its full-scale mockup was ready by August 1949, less than a year from programme sanction. The first HT-2 prototype (VT-DFW) made its maiden flight on August 5, 1951, and the second prototype (VT-DCG) took to the air for the first time on February 19, 1952. In a landmark moment for Indian aviation, the HT-2 received its Type Certificate on January 3, 1953, and was formally inducted into the IAF on January 10, 1955. [10]

The HT-2 replaced the long-serving Tiger Moth and initially operated alongside the Prentice.

In 1955, the indigenous trainer type was inducted into the Flight Instructors School at Tambaram and No.2 Air Force Academy, Begumpet, with pupils logging 40 hours on the aircraft before proceeding to the Harvard. The HT-2 was used to train cadets of No. 68 Pilot Instruction Course in 1955, and by the time of the 72^nd Course, the indigenous trainer had replaced the Prentice entirely. [11]

An all-metal piston-engine basic trainer, the HT-2 was powered by a 155-HP Cirrus Major III four-cylinder air-cooled piston engine with a two-blade fixed-pitch propeller. It could attain a maximum speed of 209 kmph. It had a range of 560 km and a service ceiling of 14,500 feet. Flight endurance was just under four hours.

In his autobiography ‘Riding the Wind’, Wing Commander P Ashoka provides an insight into the HT-2. “It was a tail wheel aircraft, requiring just that much greater attention during take-off and landing. It had conventional manual flight controls and an elevator trim tab. The controls were well harmonised and pleasant to feel. Though quite underpowered, it was still a fully aerobatic machine.” [12]

The HT-2 also served with the Indian Navy for a short period, less than a decade, during which three aircraft were operated for ab-initio flying training. The Navy’s first Fleet Requirement Unit (FRU) was commissioned on May 11, 1953, at Venduruthy II, Kochi and recommissioned as INAS 550 on June 15, 1959. The HT-2 was inducted into the FRU in October 1956 and phased out of service by 1964. [13] HAL ceased production of the HT-2 in 1958 after manufacturing approximately 166 aircraft, out of which 150 were delivered to the air force.

The HT-2 was later also re-engined in the mid-eighties with the Avco Lycoming AEIO-320-D2B engine, receiving the designation HT-2L. Limited numbers of HT-2s were re-engined and operated by the Flying Instructor’s School (FIS) at AFS Tambaram. [14]  The last of the HT-2s were finally retired from service in 1989.  According to one estimate, over 5,500 air force, army and navy pilots trained on the HT-2. [15]

In the final analysis, the HT-2, as India’s first indigenous aircraft and one specifically designed for the IAF, can undoubtedly be considered a success. According to Hindustan Aeronautics Limited, a total of 169 HT-2s were produced. [16] The HT-2s with the IAF served the nation for 34 years and helped not only solidify the foundation of IAF flight training but also that of aircraft manufacturing in India.

Overseas Sojourn

The HT-2 was also the first Indian designed and developed military aircraft to be exported. This was no small feat for newly independent India, and it remains the only indigenously developed fixed-wing military aircraft exported by India. Ghana acquired 12 aircraft, which it operated from 1959 to 1974. The Air Force deputed Wing Commander LM Katre (later CAS and CMD, HAL) to convert a few Ghanaian instructors on the type. [17]

It is interesting to note, however, that at least two of the Ghanaian aircraft, following their retirement from service, made their way to South Africa and were later offered for sale as restoration projects.[18] The HT-2 also made it as far afield as Australia with two demonstrator aircraft (VT-DIJ and VT-DJQ/VH-AWL) flying in-country from 1957-1960. Two aircraft were also sent to Singapore and Indonesia.

One of the HT-2s (VH-AWL) imported to Australia undertook a demonstration tour in June 1958, where the aircraft flown by Flt Lt Sunandan Roy, a HAL test pilot, demonstrated the type to the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) and several flying clubs in Sydney, New South Wales, Melbourne, Victoria, Adelaide, South Australia and Brisbane, Queensland.  One of the aerobatic demonstrations involved an eight-turn spin followed by low-level cloverleaf loops, with steep turns and slow rolls in a reciprocal direction. [19]

However, during a demonstration in Brisbane that same year, an aircraft impacted the ground, sustaining extensive damage and injuring the pilot. The aircraft was returned to India, but by the time a replacement aircraft arrived in Australia and conducted a sales tour, Royal Air Force (RAF) surplus Chipmunks were available to aero clubs, and the HT-2 received no orders. This aircraft was later returned to India and did not receive an Australian registration. [10]

INTERVIEW: Air Commodore KA Muthanna (Retd).

Air Commodore KA Muthanna retired as Chief of Test Flying (Fixed Wing) at Hindustan Aeronautics Limited. He was commissioned into the Indian Air Force in June 1981.

I passed out of NDA in 1980, and in the second half of that year. I was to fly the HT-2 as a cadet in the No. 127 Pilots Course. We were all wide-eyed at the sight of the first powered aircraft that we would fly. There was excitement, apprehension, and some of us felt overwhelmed. At that stage, we had no knowledge of how to pilot this aircraft, as we had never flown a powered aircraft before.

After passing out of NDA, we went to Bidar and did the Maintenance Conversion Flight (MCF) on the HT-2. This was basically where we did ground training on the HT-2. Thereafter, we went to Dundigal and conducted dual-check sorties, which involved around eight instruction sorties. The HT-2 was a tail-wheel aircraft, yeah, so the first impression you had while sitting in the cockpit was that only you could see the sky! We could not see anything in front of us. As a result, while taxying out on the runway, I had to weave around the centreline and look out from the side of the cockpit to see where I was going. Also, when taking off on the HT-2, you had to push the stick forward to raise the tail wheel, then pull it back for liftoff.

In total, I must have flown around 40 hours on the HT-2 during my six months of basic training. Our course was also the last, in which cadets would get to fly this aircraft solo. Somewhere halfway through our course, or not even halfway (at least, definitely after I went solo), we had a fatal accident. One of the cadets stalled the aircraft while turning onto finals and went into the ground. Due to this and their history with the type, they stopped cadets from flying solo on this aircraft, and thereafter they only flew something called Dolo, which meant having an instructor sitting quietly behind.

My instructor was not too happy with my landing on my first solo flight.  On the HT-2, during the final approach, we had to perform a ‘round-off’. So, when we were about a foot or so off the runway, we had to drop the aircraft on the runway, so that it wouldn’t swing on landing, something the HT-2 was very prone to do.  Hence, it was mandated that, when coming in for landing, if the pilot was not happy with his height at which he ‘rounded off’ (this is known as a flare in a jet aircraft), then he had to go around and attempt the landing again. What I did was open the throttle, let the aircraft descend a little more, then close it and land! My instructor was not happy!

Later, when I moved on to the Kiran Intermediate Jet Trainer as part of my training, I realised that the faster Kiran was easier to fly than the HT-2.

Interestingly, six years later, I got to fly the HT-2 again, this time while doing my trainee instructor course at the Flying Instructors School (FIS) in Tambaram. We had to fly both the HT-2 and the Kiran equally, and this time we had to fly the HT-2 from the rear cockpit. Now, since many of us had done fighter flying, we were walking with a swagger, but the HT-2 brought us back down to Mother Earth! Frontal visibility, which was always poor on the HT-2, was even worse when in the rear seat with another pilot in front of you!

I did another 20 hours on the HT-2 and never flew it again for the rest of my career. When you consider that the HT-2 was developed just a few years after the end of World War II, we can certainly consider it a good design and an aircraft that served the air force well and for a long time.

*****

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Notes:

[1] Air Commodore Jasjit Singh, Indian Aircraft Industry (New Delhi: KW Publishers, 2011), p. 45.

[2] Ibid., p.52.

[3] Ibid., p.52.

[4] Ibid., p.52.

[5] Ibid., p.52.

[6] “Digital Archive,” International Bomber Command Centre Digital Archive, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/files/original/1371/23293/PThomasAF20080027.2.jpg. Accessed on August 18, 2025.

[7] Ibid., p.110.

[8] Ibid., p.110.

[9] Ibid., p.111.

[10] Ibid., p.114.

[11] Kapil Bhargava, “HT-2 – India’s First Powered Aircraft,” Bharat Rakshak, November 30, 1999,  https://www.bharat-rakshak.com/iaf/aircraft/past/hal-ht2/. Accessed on June 22, 2025

[12] Wing Commander P Ashoka, Riding the Wind (New Delhi: Viji Books, 2011), p. 130.

[13] Indian Navy, “Dorniers,” https://indiannavy.gov.in/content/dorniers-2. Accessed on July 07, 2025.

[14] “HAL HT-2 [IX480],” Warbirds of India, November 25, 2008, https://www.warbirds.in/karnataka/bangalore/hal/hal-ht-2-ix480. Accessed on July 10, 2025.

[15] Vijay Seth, The Flying Machines of the Indian Air Force 1933–1999 (New Delhi: Seth Communications, 2000), p. 41.

[16] Author’s research visit to Hindustan Aeronautics Limited.

[17] Bharat Rakshak, n. 11.

[18] David C Eyere, “Hindustan HT-2,” Aeropedia, August 25, 2019, https://aeropedia.com.au/content/hindustan-ht-2/. Accessed on June 25, 2025.

[19] Ibid.

[20]  Ibid.

The post A History of Partnership: The Indian Air Force and Growth of Indigenous Basic Trainer Production in South India appeared first on CAPSS India.

Keywords: IAF MiG-23MF, R-23 Missile, Operation Meghdoot, No.224 Squadron Warlords, Air Combat Tactics

In our previous segment of the interview with former MiG-23MF and accomplished experimental test pilot Wing Commander Biswa Bihari Misra (Retd), VSM, we covered the technical novelties offered by the MiG-23MF to the Indian Air Force (IAF) (you can read our previous article here). In this segment, through a few questions to him, we explore life in an Air Defence (AD) squadron of the IAF and how the IAF successfully employed the MiG-23MF during both peacetime and ‘near-wartime’ situations.

When were you introduced to the aircraft? Could you recollect your initial stint with the squadron?

I was first introduced to the aircraft between July and August of 1983. Randy (Gurmeet Singh Randhawa, later Group Captain) and I were Flying Officers back then, and the youngest officers in the squadron (No. 224 Squadron ‘Warlords’). I distinctly remember how we used to clean the Hardened Aircraft Shelters (HAS) before we brought in the aircraft. At that time, the squadron didn’t have its own complex (a dedicated part of the airfield for the squadron), so we used to share No. 223 Squadron’s complex until we got our own, which was around the end of 1983. My first impression – “very electronically sophisticated.” It required a good understanding of how radars worked to master the aircraft truly. Another thing was the low tail ground clearance of the aircraft, which required some level of practice to learn how to land the aircraft correctly. If you did not make the landing approach correctly, the aircraft started to ‘balloon’ and ‘porpoise,’ which eventually led to PIOs (Pilot Induced Oscillations) if not mitigated correctly. There have been several incidents where either the tail section or the nose gear of the aircraft has been damaged because of an incorrect approach technique.

How were pilots selected to fly the MiG-23MF?

Every squadron typically has some experienced people who are both professionally and managerially experienced, having served as Flight Commanders in the past, and then there are middle-level pilots who are qualified for Day and Night Operations. And then, we have the youngsters (rookies), who have completed their basic flying training and are at least Day Ops qualified on another platform or belong to a similar stream. So possibly, we were selected because we happened to come from an Air Defence squadron, and had previously handled radars. I was in No.3 Squadron (which was flying the MiG-21bis at the time) before I was introduced to the MiG-23MF. We did realise that the MiG-23MF demanded more from a pilot in terms of being technically sound with radars and electronics, not to mention the variable geometry wings and the high demand for flying skills.

A fighter squadron in the Indian Air Force (IAF) usually consists of 18 aircraft (a mix of 16 fighter/combat aircraft and two type conversion trainer aircraft), which is flown by a roster of 16 to 20 pilots and maintained by airmen under the supervision of commissioned technical officers. So, the total number of officers within a squadron would range from 25 to 30. The squadron is headed by a Commanding Officer (CO), to whom everyone reports. The CO of a squadron is usually of the rank of Wing Commander or Group Captain.

The 2IC (2^nd In Command) of a squadron is the Flight Commander (Flt Cdr), who is the second most experienced pilot within the squadron. They would be of the rank of a Squadron Leader. The Flt Cdr officiates as the CO of the squadron in case the CO is away temporarily (an example of which you will see later in this article). In some cases, the 3^rd most senior pilot within the squadron might also be referred to as Deputy Flight Commander (Dy Flt Cdr). Whilst among the pilots there are no further divisions based on rank hierarchy, they are often categorised based on the level of flying experience and proficiency.

So, how is a pilot classified based on their proficiency? After completion of basic training at the Air Force Academy (AFA) and the training school for their respective stream (Fighters, Helicopters or Transports), the newly commissioned officer is posted to an operational squadron, where they are first ‘converted’ onto the aircraft (introduced to flying the aircraft). After the conversion is completed, they are now operationalised on the aircraft (to groom and prepare them to be able to fly the aircraft under all weather conditions and circumstances). “Fully Ops ” as they call it, this is again divided into two levels – “Day Ops ” Qualified, meaning the pilot is fully competent to fly the aircraft in combat, but only during daytime and “Fully Ops/Night Ops” Qualified, which means that the pilot is now capable of flying the aircraft in operations both in daytime and nighttime. In a parallel set of qualifications, the pilots undergo training on type and tests to acquire their weather-related rating of “White,” “Green,” or “Master Green.”

Once a pilot is Fully Ops, they are now groomed to undertake further leadership within the squadron – becoming an element lead. An element can be described as the smallest unit formation within an Air Force, comprising two aircraft. Now the pilot is taught how to command an element in the air, flying and fighting against others with their ‘wingman’ as a team in all conditions of the day. Once they successfully complete this stage, the pilot is now prepared to lead a four-aircraft formation. A typical four-aircraft formation consists of a flight lead, who not only commands their own element, but also another element, led by the second most experienced pilot within the formation. By this time, the pilot would have ideally reached the rank of a Flight Lieutenant.

Could you describe what a typical day in an Air Defence (AD) squadron looks like?

Air Defence means that your whole day is not as structured as a Ground Attack squadron. A ground attack Squadron has a four-ship formation to attack some locations, including some live targets and others that are not live. So, these are all pre-planned because the routes have to be planned, and the aircraft have to be configured/prepared. Weapon loading, unloading, rigging and harmonisation, have to be done. Whereas in an Air Defence squadron, you are in air combat mode, you do your briefing, which can stretch by plus or minus half an hour. Then you fly, and after flying, you draw the air situations, aka “jalebis”, and debrief, which can stretch by plus or minus two to three hours here and there. Most of the time goes into briefings and debriefings. Air Defence is a little less restricted. Starts a little early, not as early as the Ground Attack squadrons. Sometimes they (Ground Attack squadrons) do a pre-dawn attack. Air Defence guys don’t do that. But evening-night flying is more systematic than daytime flying. We don’t do night flying every night. We have a night flying phase. So, we decided to do a dark phase or a moon phase. And accordingly, it’s tied to the moon. So, we know that the moon cycle will determine the night flying phase.

How does it feel to be on ORP (Operational Readiness Platform)?

There’s a difference between flying general Air Defence sorties and being put on ‘live’ ORP duties. What I mean by ‘live’ is that the aircraft and pilots are ready for real missions, to tackle real threats. The aircraft is armed with live munitions. Everything is live about that airplane including the guns. They rarely get airborne. Maybe once or twice a month, when there is unrecognised air traffic and a need to identify/neutralise it. So, there are different levels of ORP, each manned by a squadron. There are 24-hour ORPs and daylight ORPs. The 24-hour ORP is manned both day and night. So, one crew goes out for the day and one crew goes out for the night. Key stations typically have 24-hour ORP, like Adampur, Pathankot, and Halwara. They all have 24-hour ORPs, while smaller stations operate for 12 hours.

Operational Readiness Platform (ORP) refers to duties manned by Air Defence squadrons of the Air Force to respond to any aerial threat within a short span of time. These duties are comparable to the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation’s (NATO) QRA (Quick Reaction Alert) scrambles in nature and scope. Although entire squadrons do not operate such missions, each Air Defence/Fighter squadron within an airbase is allotted a specific duration (usually for around 15 days at a stretch) to man ORP. Throughout that duration, the squadron allocates specific pilots and aircraft towards the effort. These aircraft and pilots are usually positioned away from the regular squadron complex to make these missions more convenient. The said aircraft are parked in hardened aircraft shelters, much closer to the runway, armed and fuelled 24/7, ready to take-off within a very short span when the need arises. The pilots themselves are positioned in ‘ready rooms’ close to the shelters where aircraft are parked.

The nature of the threat is vastly unknown: it could be anything – from an amateur pilot who deviated from their flight path, to a commercial airline losing radio contact with the ground control, to escorting a hijacked aircraft, to intercepting a foreign military aircraft entering the Indian military airspace. Once a threat is identified by a ground station (such as a radar), the ORP is ‘scrambled’ – an alarm is raised, and the pilots manning the ORP dash to their aircraft and take-off on short notice to rendezvous with and inspect the target, and shoot it down if necessary.

ORPs are mostly manned in three different readiness levels. Standby-15 is when the aircraft and pilots are expected to be airborne within 15 minutes after the scramble is announced. Standby-5, which is perhaps the most commonly practised scramble, expects the aircraft to be airborne within 5 minutes after the call is raised. This is what most popular media portray: pilots running to their aircraft from their ready rooms, climbing into their aircraft and starting it, rolling out of their shelters and taking off quickly. Standby-2, orders for which are only issued during wartime or when the threat is imminent, sees this process expedited to a whole new level. Pilots are seated in their aircraft full-time, with the aircraft ready to start. Once the scramble is ordered, all they have to do is start the aircraft, disconnect the ground power supply, shut the canopy, pull the chocks away, and they’re airborne in under two minutes (and that’s faster than the time it takes to cook instant noodles).

Have you flown DACT (Dissimilar Air Combat Training) with other aircraft? How did the MiG-23MF fare in them?

Before we discuss DACT, I would like to say that as an Air Defence Squadron, our regular squadron life was filled with air combat training. We used to pair up amongst ourselves and fly practice one vs one, two vs one, two vs two and so on during air combat sorties. We also practice different types of missions, like the Combat Air Patrol (CAP), providing escort support to other aircraft, and Interceptions. Then comes what you refer to as DACT – Dissimilar Air Combat Training. If there were a MiG-21 or any other squadron within the base, we’d just go over to the briefing room and fix up a training sortie with them and fly. If we had to fly against a fighter squadron out of Adampur, say Pathankot (where MiG-21s were based at the time), we would talk to the other squadron, and we would rendezvous at some place and fly DACT. It was good to train youngsters, as they would be introduced to a different aircraft with different performance characteristics, different strengths, and different weaknesses, flown by a pilot from a different squadron who had different skills and flying experience than ours but tactically they were not good. It just provided some good experiences.

The MiG-21bis is comparable to the MiG-23MF in terms of flying performance. However, the real challenge was flying against the Folland Gnat/Ajeet. Doing DACT between the MiG-23MF and Ajeets was a pain. (Chuckles)… You couldn’t spot them; your eyes were not tuned to seeing them. We were so used to the big aeroplanes (like the MiG-21s and Hawker Hunters) that spotting them (Ajeet/Gnat) in the air was difficult for us. They were small and silver in colour, which made them just not easily visible against the blue sky. They were also very agile. You didn’t expect them to move around the way they did. So, they were very, very painful. It took us time to understand how to handle them.

Through the 1980s, the IAF operated a myriad of fighter aircraft, from the small and nimble Folland Gnat (as well as its Indian derivative Hindustan Aeronautics Limited’s Ajeet) and the venerable Hawker Hunter of the 1950s vintage, to Su-7BMK and early versions of the MiG-21FLs of the 1960s vintage to the more capable MiG-21M/MF and MiG-21bis and all the way to the modern fourth-generation fighters in the form of Mirage 2000 and MiG-29. This diversified inventory within the IAF provided its pilots and ground crew with a unique exposure to different perspectives and methods of working from across the globe.

India had also acquired MiG-25s in the early 1980s. Despite purchasing only 10 airframes meant purely for photographic reconnaissance [8x MiG-25RBK’s (KP351 through KP356; additional airframes KP312 and KP3106) and 2x MiG-25RU (DS361 and DS362)], the Garuda was still a formidable foe to those who tried to intercept it. ^[1]

The MiG-25 is another beast! You see it at one level and next moment you see it at another flight level. It climbs and accelerates so fast, how do you even catch it? You just can’t catch it anywhere. So, you have to prevent it from climbing that fast. That aircraft is very sluggish and slow at the initial part (low altitude), but once it goes past Mach 0.9, it is like a rocket! So, for them, the tactics were different. Their operating altitudes are much higher than those of the MiG-23MF, and they even climb faster, so we had to develop means to catch them at certain points in their flight. As AD guys, we always had to be on the edge – What if our enemies potentially got their hands on aircraft of similar capability as the MiG-25? How would we intercept them? Do we intercept when they are climbing to their operational altitude or do we intercept them when they are transitioning between various flight levels or do we catch them as they descend after their mission? Do we have to keep climbing to intercept them or do we level out after a certain height and wait for them to descend?

How did the Dassault Mirage 2000H, the actual intended counter to the Pakistani F-16s, compare to the MiG-23MF, which was bought out of sheer necessity and urgency?

I have done comparisons twice. One instance was when the Mirages initially came for DACT. However, more than air combat manoeuvring, they were more ‘electronic happy.’ They were exploiting their new equipment more than doing air combat. They weren’t ‘acquiring’ me visually; they were ‘painting’ (detecting) me using their radar. So that was one exposure. The second time was after my tenure with No. 224 Squadron, during my days as a Test Pilot. I was lucky enough to evaluate both the MiG-23MF and the Mirage 2000 and to clinically compare them in all kinds of scenarios for certain requirements that are classified. I was qualified to fly both aircraft as a Test Pilot. It was a comparison not just between two different aircraft, but between two different philosophies of design: the Soviet versus those of the West. When compared to the initial Mirage 2000H, yes, the MiG-23MF’s radar was numerically superior to Mirage’s radar. No doubts. Range-wise, detection-wise, scan angle-wise, clutter reduction-wise and speeds-wise. However, operationally, the Mirage equipment was far easier to operate and interpret. The electronic performance scatter within the fleet was a pain too.

The initial batch of Mirage 2000s meant for the Indian Air Force was fitted with the RDM (Radar Doppler Multifunction), a pulse-Doppler radar developed by Thomson-CSF (now Thales). These were later replaced with more powerful RDI (Radar Doppler à Impulsions), a specialist air-to-air radar in the early 1990s.

Ergonomics, human interface, design, User Interface, whatever you call it, was far, far better than the Russian aircraft. In Russian aircraft, there were just a handful of guys in a squadron who were radar specialists. If something had to be shown to somebody, especially if I had to take one senior officer coming from command or headquarters to fly, show him how to operate the radar, they’d say, ‘Mish, you go.’ And you had to literally be on your toes, reaching for a switch here and a switch there, just to do one act of switching between a radar lock and gun mode. Five switches to switch between two modes, gun modes of the radar, where the radar range finder switches to gun ranging mode. On the Mirage, if I lock onto an aircraft, a circle appears on the Heads-Up Display (HUD right here). If you look at the centre of the TD (Target Designation) box, you will see the target there. It’s harmonised. On the MiG-23MF, there is a similar concept. But, the azimuth scale of the HUD is compressed. What is 30 degrees virtually is about 12 degrees on a 1:1 real-world scale. So, when one looked through the “TD” on the MiG-23MF, he didn’t see the target.

The design of fighter aircraft is often influenced by the philosophical thinking of the designers and prevailing social beliefs. For instance, Soviet aircraft are often described as ‘inexpensive and ergonomic, yet rugged and reliable’, because Soviet design philosophy dictates that an aircraft should be easy to mass-produce and must be built to operate in all terrains and climatic conditions. On the other hand, most Western aircraft are designed to be pilot-friendly.

What would you say about doctrinal differences in CAS vs Air Defence domains within the Indian Air Force?

The Air Defence wing is not well understood by the Ground Attack wing, but the ground attack component is often well understood by the Air Defence guys. We are escorting them, and we understand exactly what kind of aerial threats they might encounter. But the Ground Attack guys are like a horse with blinkers, because they have a very specific mission – to neutralise the target. They focus on that. The Ground Attack guys hardly train for Air Defence because their aeroplanes cannot perform most of it. The MiG-23BN guys also engage in air combat occasionally, either in one vs one or two vs two scenarios. But where they do one vs one is like saying we will race in two Ambassadors (an Indian four-door sedan car). After a lot of effort, you will reach 60 kmph; you can’t go any faster than that. So, this is a problem in most places. To a certain extent, multi-role aircraft (e.g., Mirage 2000 or Tejas) have sort of put minds together, and combined operations and integrated operations have brought it closer. Today, it is so much more different from what it was. But between the 1970s to 1980s and the early 1990s there was a notable disconnect. However, back in the 1980s and 1990s, aircraft had specific roles; hence, it was necessary that they understood each other’s roles. This issue would usually be solved in the briefing, where we would discuss with our ground attack counterparts the various risks that could be encountered during the mission and ways to mitigate them.

Could you explain a bit about the tactics used by the Air Defence pilots, maybe even a bit about CAP?

So, coming back to tactics, CAP (Combat Air Patrol) is defined as patrolling a point or area in defence. Point defence is like a runway or an ammunition dump. You go round and round. You have the standard pattern. You are opposite on a circle, two aircraft. The fighting unit consisted of two aircraft. Doing symmetrical stuff. If I am in a turn, the other person is in a turn. If I am looking left, the other person is looking right. You know, like a mirror image. Area Defence would be applicable to targets such as dams or railway stations. So, you do a race course pattern, but again, it is very symmetric. A point comes when you are symmetrical, your formation should be able to effectively scan the environment. But this also has blind spots. Based on the pattern, there might be an instance where the target is in a blind spot for both of us, especially coupled with the MiG-23 MF’s finicky radar. I may have my radar working nicely, but you [wingman] may not have your radar working. I may be using my radar in some mode, and you[wingman] may be using the radar in some other mode.

Were there any tactics developed specifically for the MiG-23MF that are specific to that aircraft only?

The TP-23 IRST was an absolute boon to us! Very few guys admit that. Very few guys trained themselves enough to use it. It required a lot of switchology to move around in that cockpit. There was one switch here, one there, so you had to move around a bit. You really had to practice and practice, but it was a great system. What we did was we switched off our radars. If we were in a CAP, then we would not have had to switch on our radars. If I have no radar, nobody can see me, considering that if I ‘paint’ the enemy (detect them with the radar), they could determine the direction of my aircraft with their Radar Warning Receiver (RWR). So, without my radar on, they can’t detect me until I am very close to them, so I go on thermal. The TP-23 gives me a guaranteed 13 to 15 km of visibility, even if an enemy is flying at treetop level. I spot them at, let’s say, 13 to 15 km. We are now aware that these guys are coming from one direction. So, the formation would split up, and the wingman would cover the leader’s tail while the leader attacked the target.

TP-23 was the earliest IRST (InfraRed Search and Track) sensor that was standardised on Soviet fighter aircraft, possibly making it a first of its kind to be exported and operated globally, in large numbers. Deployed as a secondary backup sensor to the main radar of the aircraft, aiding and/or providing detection and tracking capabilities in electronically contested environments, it could provide situational awareness to pilots while also being a passive sensor and thus allowing the fighters to approach/track a target ‘silently.’ MiG-23s were the first Soviet fighters to be equipped with a chin-mounted IRST, in the form of TP-23 (introduced with the MiG-23M and MiG-23MF) and TP-23ML (introduced with the MiG-23ML).

TP-23 utilises mechanically rotating ceramic lenses to focus the incoming infrared light on a fixed single-element PbSe (lead selenide) photo-resistor. A full-frame scan, taking only about 0.6 seconds, is relayed back to the pilot, with the results displayed on the fighter’s HUD. The pilot could initiate tracking using the system by manually choosing a target, using a joystick, and locking it. The system’s performance, being a passive sensor by design, was greatly affected by environmental factors, weather conditions, flight characteristics, and other external factors; however, it could scan up to 30 km.^[2] Quasi-ranging can be performed automatically by the radar firing very short pulses.

We devised something called a ‘Singleton CAP’ and a ‘Low-level CAP.’ A Singleton CAP meant that I didn’t have two aircraft symmetrically supporting each other. I can break this unit. The other pilot goes after one target. I go after the other. Each of us operates as a singleton, and after the mission, we rendezvous at a point and we recover together. We could fly at low level instead of say 3 km altitude, where I would be visible to Tom, Dick and Harry in the sky. The target aircraft may not see me. But there are radars capable of scanning long distances at that altitude. Pathankot is visible from Pakistan. So, we brought it down to 600 meters. We were the first guys to do a singleton 600-meter CAP. It was a completely unheard-of tactic.

Another tactic developed and practised by the MiG-23MF squadrons was the ‘Zoom Up Intercept,’ wherein the scrambling aircraft would not directly climb to the target’s flight level, but instead build up momentum at low altitude and then rapidly zoom up right below and behind the target. The Lookup mode of the radar helped in locating and tracking the target. The build-up of momentum was about Mach 0.9 (slightly slower than the speed of sound) and at about 300-600 feet AGL (Above Ground Level). The MiG-23MF in particular excelled at such rapid acceleration and zoom-climb, as it was (and still is?) considered as one of the most powerful single-engine aircraft ever built. Powered by a single Tumansky R-29-300 turbojet engine, it could generate 112.81 kilo newtons (25,360 lbf) of thrust with afterburner, which provided the MiG-23M with a top speed of Mach 1.9 (2,358 km/h) at an altitude of 13,000 m (42,650 ft).

The same tactic was also followed during nighttime. However, at night, we had the risk of ground collision, as we were flying at high speed over areas that were not heavily populated, meaning there was very little lighting on the ground. So, we have a radio altimeter where you set a pointer to indicate the altitude. When the radio altimeter crosses below that set height, the audio comes in (an audio warning). The autopilot kicks in and pitches the aircraft upward. This system is a part of the SAU-23A three-axis automatic flight control system/autopilot. It climbs to a certain height and levels the wings, maintaining that safe height thereon. After that, you recover and take over. When you’re performing such missions, it’s mostly with your wings fully swept back (72°) and flying at about 850 to 900 km/h. In that setting, the MiG-23MF is very sensitive to handling. Another crucial factor is the way how a Soviet control stick is designed. It has got two levels. The top portion has a set of smaller buttons, including the autopilot disable switch. So, when I push the stick beyond a certain limit, a small switch toggles the autopilot on/off temporarily. So, as long as I apply pressure on the stick (beyond the said threshold), the autopilot is disengaged, and once I bring it back within the usual threshold, the autopilot is toggled on. I had an incident once where the aircraft entered oscillations because of this on-off of the autopilot. With the head banging against the canopy. Finally, I did what a test pilot would do (although I was not a test pilot at that time) – I let go of the stick and allowed the autopilot to start the climb. Then, disconnect the autopilot or the LAU and take over control of the aircraft. So, for a moment I found myself in a very bad situation.

Could you tell us about the R-23R/T, which is the primary armament of the MiG-23MF? Is it true that they are only used for very specific occasions?

Loading an R-23T or R was a very strategic decision. It is not something which the squadron would be expected to do extempore. These were very heavy and potent missiles, and the decisions were also very well thought out. I am sure those missions would have been planned aeons back and kept in a cupboard somewhere (laughs). It does take time, about six hours’ time frame, to arm the MiG-23MF with an R-23.  Even on the French missiles. For example, the BGL, which was the French version of LGB, which is a very complex device… It takes overnight to load it. And once loaded, once charged with coolant and all that nitrogen, they are so much more difficult to remove. So, for the R-23 R and T, yes, it took a while. However, most of the time it was the R-60 that was used.

Have you flown High Altitude Detachments from Leh? What was it like?

The MiG-23MF at that point in time had the most powerful engine, the most advanced radar, and the most agile handling at both low and high speeds. Whatever you wanted, it was there. But, when we went to the Siachen Glacier, we had to evolve our tactics accordingly. We had ideas of intercepting or engaging in air combat with the F-16s at that altitude, but we just could not follow conventional tactics, and we knew that he (any Pakistani pilot) would also struggle. Doing air combat between eight to nine km above sea level is no joke, even for the best of the airplanes and pilots alike. Most aircraft are designed to conduct air combat between three and five km above sea level. However, in a theatre like Siachen, the base height of the terrain itself is between three and five km, posing a challenge for both men and machines alike. We had to redefine how airplanes would dogfight, going vertical, going horizontal, using/conserving/trading-off your (aircraft’s potential energy with kinetic) energy. Those tactics that we would use in the deserts/plains/plateaus were not applicable here.

To begin with, the approach to landing at Leh itself was quite tricky. In most places, the run-up to the final approach would be clear, and you could visually acquire the runway from a distance. But when approaching Leh, you have to fly around a hill; as a result, you are unable to visually pick up the runway until you are actually on short finals. All these had to be pre-planned on your mission map. Furthermore, the rarefied atmosphere did not allow us to fly a rigid profile. Our capability to carry fuel and munitions was limited. If there was a sudden cloud cover on your flight path, you had to change plans on very short notice.

A Starfighter! But… Over Siachen?

Continuing to speak on Leh, Wing Commander Misra recollects a humorous incident that occurred during a one-month stint at Base Camp, Siachen:

… This happened at a time when tensions were still running high between India and Pakistan, especially over the Siachen Glacier. So, we had a protocol of putting one pilot on the ground (at Base Camp) to take care of CASEVAC (Casualty Evacuation) in case of an ejection. I got a chance to be there on December 31, 1985. I was there from the latter half of December 1985 through January 1986, when temperatures would drop 35 degrees below freezing point. So, while I was there… Two fighter controllers are normally positioned there. They have this Soviet SKP-9 vehicle, which is used by the air traffic controllers. It has all their gizmos, radios, etc. Their job was to control the Cheetahs flying to and from Leh/Siachen. So, the Cheetahs come from Thoise. From the morning until evening, they operate the base camp. In the evening, they go back to Thoise because they can undergo daily maintenance in Thoise. In the base camp, there was no parking space. Then the two ATC fighter controllers said, “Sir thoda sa ATC man karlo, Leh jaake aate hai” (Trans.: Could you man the ATC for us? We have to go to Leh). So those two guys cut to Leh, and I was manning. There was also an Army AD (Air Defence) regiment with their anti-aircraft guns. We, back in the squadron, had got a report that there was one airplane flying over the Nubra valley – A “Starfighter” had been sighted!

A Starfighter? This message, this ‘Intel-report’ had come through everybody all the way to the squadron level. Where and how did this report originate? Army AD had generated this report of the sighting. So, while I was there, I had to walk up to the Gun post and ask them about this sighting. “Straight, Short Wings, something at the tips of the wings. It had a single engine, and made a single, turning pass” So we were wondering… Firstly, where is the Starfighter? They do not fly anymore (The last of the PAF’s Starfighters were retired from service in 1972). Then why? Who would have the guts to fly a single aircraft in a valley inside an enemy’s territory? But it just came through. So, when I was there, I said I must go and investigate. So, I paid a visit to a very senior, decorated AD SM (Subedar Major), who was a decorated veteran of the 1965 and 1971 wars. After the initial pleasantries, I asked, “Sir, yeh report aaya tha humare paas Starfighter ka, kya tha?” (Trans.: Could you tell me what was all about this report on the Starfighter?) “Haan Saheb, humne dekha, idhar se gaya.” (Trans.: Yes sir! ‘We’ saw it zoom by) That incident got highlighted because Western Air Command’s Senior Air Staff Officer (SASO, WAC) was on ground (around that area) when it happened. So, I asked him how he identified the aircraft. He took me to a chart on his wall, and said, “Tent main laga hua hai abhi.” He pointed towards a diagram of the Starfighter and said, “Sir ye dekhiye, aise straight hai body, aisa wing chota chota tha, straight wing tha. Aur ye jo, tip main aise safed wale lage hue the” [Trans.: This chart was put up in our tent. As you can see here sir, it had a small and straight wing, and it also had this ‘white thing’ on its wingtips too (referring to the wingtip mounted drop tanks)]. I asked him, “Aur kitne jahaz they? Kuch Upar ya aage ya peeche?” (Trans.: Were there any other aircraft? Anything flying above it or slightly ahead or behind it?). “Nahi sir, sirf ek hi tha” (Trans.: No sir, there was only one). He was convinced there was only one aircraft. We later deduced that he had seen an F-16 and the F-16 had two wingtip-mounted missiles, which one can say, and if you have not seen a drop tank up-close, would mistake it for a missile/bomb or vice-versa… Very few people in India at that time had seen the F-16 close enough to distinguish it from the F-104 Starfighter!

*The Starfighter had a very thin, trapezoidal wing with a very short span. However, when the wingtip stations were fitted out (with either a drop tank or 2x AIM-9B Sidewinder), the wings would seem to appear ‘Straight.’

Considering that the MiG-23MFs were in very limited numbers with the IAF, did we attempt to integrate any new weapon systems or components on them?

We all knew that the MiG-23MF just came in as a stopgap measure and it would be phased out sometime. There were talks of integrating the Matra R.550 Magic 1 Infrared Homing Missile on the MiG-23MF, but it dissipated over time. It is important to understand that we never had the outright capability to overhaul the MiG-23MF, unlike the MiG-23BN and the MiG-27. So, without that capability, two occurrences became common:

• • . The radar and avionics capabilities of the aircraft began to deteriorate due to a lack of overhaul. This meant that the very purpose for which the aircraft was purchased (Beyond Visual Range air combat) was lost.

  • . The engine was a clear indicator that this aeroplane is not going to live long. The engines were designed to run very hot. The life of the engine was very critical. And anytime the engine went through a heat cycle or experienced thermal stress, it was bound to fail very quickly. We had engines melting and falling off from the back side of the aircraft. In some severe cases, even the whole turbine would fall off because the engine cavity had melted. A ball of fire! We barely had three seconds to react to such instances.

Furthermore, minor issues also became persistent, such as the canopy decolourisation. Over time, it so happened that chemicals on the canopy perspex began to react with the atmosphere and UV light, leading to a dark-red/maroon tint that reduced visibility. That’s why very little to no integrations were carried out on the aircraft.

MiG-23MF:

The MiG-23MF was introduced into the Indian Air Force’s service as a response to an emergency. Fourty airframes of the type were ordered by the IAF as a stopgap measure to maintain its edge over the PAF’s acquisition of F-16s, until the intended response, the Mirage 2000 and the MiG-29B, arrived. Two squadrons were raised – No.223 Squadron ‘First Swing Wing Interceptors’ and No.224 Squadron ‘Warlords.’ Nicknamed the ‘Rakshak’ (Guardian), it played a crucial role during the prolonged standoff between India and Pakistan in the 1980s, providing Air Defence over the Himalayas, the plains of Punjab, and the scorching deserts of Rajasthan and Gujarat. However, with No. 223 Squadron converting to the MiG-29B with effect from January 1, 1990, the Warlords became the sole operator of the aircraft. With over 34 airframes, they were rotated between 11 BRD (Nashik) and the squadron for the remainder of their service life.

Despite the Mirage 2000 and MiG-29 entering service, the MiG-23MF was still relevant well into the mid-1990s. The squadron flew active Air Defence Detachments and ORPs across the Northern part of India. Perhaps the aircraft’s zenith came with the landing at Thoise on October 28, 1995. However, becoming the only squadron to operate this type also brought in a host of problems – there was a shortage of experienced pilots to continue the saga of the Rakshak. Furthermore, the aircraft began to show its age as its radar started to lose its capability, thereby leading to its ‘fangs’ losing their venom. With the radar not being overhauled, the Rakshak lost its ability to fire the R-23R (NATO reporting name AA-7 Apex), the very reason for which it was procured. The airframes were reaching the end of their lifespan one by one. Minor issues, such as canopy pigmentation, became rampant.

Nonetheless, the aircraft continued to serve in the IAF’s service. It was through the efforts of 11 BRD and the skilled management of the officers and airmen in the squadron that the aircraft remained airworthy. Apart from still retaining its duties of Air Defence (albeit with the R-60 missile), the fleet received a new purpose in life, being assigned the role of ‘Banner Target Towing,’ a role it was never meant to undertake. The men and machines of the squadron continued to pursue this role with great diligence.

The Rakshak was back in combat duties once again, protecting the motherland on two notable occasions: the Kargil Conflict in 1999 and Operation Parakram in 2002. During the Kargil Conflict, the squadron conducted detachments across the Kutch-Saurashtra region, providing Air Defence cover. In Operation Parakram, the squadron carried out round-the-clock Air Defence and was assigned secondary ground attack duties. Despite its age, the squadron and its crew performed to the best of their abilities during the various command-level exercises.

As everything that comes has to go someday, the MiG-23MF also had to leave service. The skies over Jamnagar, that once reverberated with the roar of the R-29-300 engines, fell silent, as the last of the Rakshaks spooled down, once and for all on March 31, 2007, as the IAF paid this unsung workhorse adieu.

*****

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Notes:

^[1] Kuboid (@Kubojd), “Let’s go over the technical specifics and integration of the TP-23, as found on the MiG-23M and MF…,” X (formerly Twitter), March 11, 2025, 10:06 pm., https://x.com/Kubojd/status/1899499647791407121.

^[2] The Tigershark Post, “‘Foxhound for the IAF’- Busting the Myth Bubble,” Medium, (June 12, 2024), https://medium.com/@arjuniyer3102/foxhounds-for-the-iaf-busting-the-myth-bubble-131ead90d160. Accessed on August 25, 2025.

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