Awakening of India - 1947

[A/N: Extra chapter for the previous milestone, the newer milestone like I said is now 200 stones. Enjoy!]

The biting chill of December 1947 swept across the northern plains of India, but it paled beside the cold resolve that had crystallized in the War Room at South Block.

While the world's sporadic attention remained fixated on the grinding, attritional warfare in Kashmir's frozen peaks, where Indian forces under Brigadier Sen were methodically dismantling the remnants of tribal lashkars, the true, devastating heart of Operation Bharat Shakti prepared to unleash its fury with terrifying, synchronized precision.

Arjun Mehra stood before the vast subcontinent map like a silent conductor on the eve of a cataclysmic symphony.

The past month had witnessed a whirlwind of covert movements, logistical miracles, and preparations forged in iron will.

The Partition Volunteer Corps brigades, tempered in six weeks of brutal training and burning with an almost frightening zeal, had moved into position under cover of darkness and deception.

Their raw energy, volatile but potent, would complement the regular army's disciplined professionalism.

Even more crucially, Patel's masterful integration of the princely states was nearing completion ahead of schedule.

By mid-December, virtually all major states had acceded to the Indian Union, Hyderabad's swift capitulation and Junagadh's forced integration had created an unstoppable domino effect.

The map before Arjun now showed a unified India, its internal borders consolidated, its resources pooled, and its strategic depth maximized.

No longer would precious military assets be tied down managing fractious princely territories or guarding against internal threats. The entire military machine could focus outward with devastating concentration.

Colonel Sharma's masterful disinformation campaign had, by all intelligence accounts, lulled Rawalpindi into a dangerous complacency, their strategic focus still desperately concentrated on salvaging something from their disastrous Kashmir gambit.

They were about to be blindsided by a storm of unprecedented magnitude.

Naval Intelligence

Before the eastern and western hammers could fall with maximum effect, Arjun's planners had conducted meticulous intelligence assessments of Pakistan's naval capabilities.

The results revealed a critical asymmetry that could be exploited despite both nations inheriting aging British vessels.

"We're both operating museum pieces from the Royal Navy's war surplus," Admiral Katari had briefed the War Council with characteristic honesty, "but the division of assets heavily favor us. Pakistan received the bare minimum, two aging sloops, two frigates, and a handful of minesweepers. Meanwhile, we inherited the bulk of the Royal Indian Navy's infrastructure, training facilities, and command structure."

The intelligence comparison was stark. Pakistan's entire operational fleet consisted of: PNS Karsaz and PNS Jhelum (ex-HMS sloops), frigates Tughril and Zulfiquar, four to six Bangor and Algerine-class minesweepers from early war vintage, several motor launches, and perhaps two depot ships struggling to maintain this minimal collection.

India's inherited naval assets, while equally dated, were substantially more numerous and better supported.

"We have three times their major surface combatants, twice their escort vessels, and crucially, we retained Bombay Naval Dockyard, Cochin facilities, and the experienced officer corps," Katari continued.

"Most importantly, we have operational bases on both coasts. They're trying to defend thousands of miles of coastline from a single major port."

"The Royal Navy's partition gave them maritime scraps while we inherited the functional structure," Arjun had observed grimly.

"Neither of us possesses modern warships, but we have overwhelming numerical superiority, better logistics, and trained personnel who actually know these waters. Their eastern and western coastlines are essentially defenseless against coordinated naval action."

This maritime imbalance would prove absolutely crucial to Operation Bharat Shakti's success, Pakistan could neither reinforce its isolated eastern wing by sea nor adequately defend its vital western ports against India's superior, if equally antiquated, naval forces.

The Eastern Hammer

The first blow fell in the east like lightning splitting the pre-dawn darkness.

On December 15th, spearheaded by battle-hardened Gurkha and Kumaon regiments and closely supported by the newly-christened PVC 'Bengal Tigers' brigade, men who had witnessed their homes ravaged during Partition and now sought a terrible reckoning, Indian forces surged across the border into East Pakistan with devastating effect.

The assault struck from multiple axes.

Northern columns punched through the narrow Siliguri Corridor toward key strategic towns, while southern forces launched from Tripura, driving hard toward the vital hubs of Comilla and the port city of Chittagong. General Thimayya, commanding the Eastern offensive with characteristic methodical brilliance, had drilled his forces relentlessly for speed and shock action.

Simultaneously, Indian naval forces, capitalizing on Pakistan's minimal maritime presence in the Bay of Bengal, launched coordinated strikes against East Pakistani ports.

The aging PNS Karsaz, caught completely off-guard while conducting routine coastal patrols, was overwhelmed by superior numbers of Indian warships and forced to withdraw after sustaining heavy damage.

With only one or two Pakistani vessels available for eastern waters against India's multiple task groups, Pakistan's maritime defenses collapsed within hours.

The initial Pakistani defenses, consisting mainly of East Pakistan Rifles and thinly dispersed regular army units, were caught in a state of complete unpreparedness.

They had anticipated, at worst, minor border skirmishes, not a full-scale invasion designed for swift territorial decapitation, supported by complete naval supremacy.

The advance proved both swift and brutal in its efficiency.

Strategic towns like Jessore and Sylhet collapsed within days as Indian armor and mechanized infantry formations punched through increasingly desperate resistance.

With Pakistani naval assets either fled or destroyed, Indian naval units, though operating their own collection of inherited warships, began systematic bombardment of coastal installations, their superior numbers and better-coordinated command structure proving decisive against Pakistan's scattered and isolated vessels.

The PVC brigades, often spearheading assaults on fortified positions, fought with a ferocity that stunned both allies and enemies alike.

For these volunteers, this transcended mere military operations, it had become a sacred crusade. Reports filtered back of their almost suicidal courage: Sikh PVC soldiers from ravaged West Punjab charging machine-gun nests with grenades and kirpans, their blood-chilling battle cries echoing across the battlefield like voices from some ancient, terrible reckoning.

The local Bengali population, already simmering with discontent against their West Pakistani overlords, reacted with a complex mixture of fear and, in many areas, surprising passive acceptance, even quiet support.

Arjun's intelligence assessments had proven prophetic: the deep linguistic and cultural chasm between West and East Pakistan represented a fundamental structural weakness, and the Indian advance was systematically prying it apart.

Sabotage of communication lines and spontaneous uprisings in Pakistani-held territories began manifesting with increasing frequency, further crippling the defenders' capacity for coordinated resistance.

By end-December, Indian columns were converging on Dhaka like the tightening coils of a massive serpent.

The Pakistani command structure in East Pakistan teetered on the precipice of complete collapse, isolated, outmaneuvered, and confronting an enemy whose speed and relentless ferocity they had catastrophically underestimated.

The Western Hammer

3 days after the Eastern Front erupted in violence, on December 18th, the second hammer blow landed with equally devastating effect.

Under the watchful command of Vice Admiral Katari, a formidable Indian naval task force, secretly assembled and deployed from Bombay and Cochin, materialized off the arid, sparsely defended Makran coast of Balochistan like an apparition from a strategic nightmare.

The naval intelligence had proven absolutely accurate. Pakistan's western naval defenses consisted of little more than the aging frigates Tughril and Zulfiquar, both desperately attempting to coordinate resistance from Karachi's harbor.

Against Katari's numerically superior task force of inherited cruisers, destroyers, and escort vessels, they represented minimal opposition.

The primary target remained Karachi, Pakistan's sole major port, its national capital, and its critical economic lifeline.

But the initial landings, following Arjun's audaciously conceived plan, were designed to secure the broader Balochistan coastline first, effectively severing Karachi from western reinforcement while establishing multiple strategic beachheads.

At dawn, Indian assault troops, which composed of a lethal combination of seasoned infantry and newly-minted PVC 'Sea Vipers' trained specifically for amphibious operations, stormed ashore at Karachi coast with overwhelming force.

Naval gunfire support from Indian cruisers and destroyers systematically pounded the meager coastal defenses into smoking rubble.

The few Pakistani patrol boats and motor launches that attempted resistance were either sunk immediately or fled in panic, completely outmatched by India.

Resistance proved pathetically light, virtually non-existent in several sectors.

Pakistan had never seriously envisioned a seaborne invasion along this remote stretch, and their handful of obsolete minesweepers were utterly inadequate for coastal defense operations against India's naval forces.

The PNS Tughril, attempting a desperate sortie to disrupt the landings, encountered multiple Indian warships in the pre-dawn darkness.

The engagement was brief and inevitable, the isolated frigate, facing overwhelming numerical odds despite fighting ships of similar vintage, was forced to withdraw with severe damage after losing most of her forward armament.

Pakistan's western naval resistance effectively collapsed, not from technological inferiority, but from sheer weight of numbers and superior coordination.

From these secured beachheads, mobile columns, including light armor and truck-borne infantry, immediately launched rapid inland thrusts toward Karachi, aiming to sever the city's vital landward communication and supply arteries.

Simultaneously, other units fanned out systematically to secure strategic points along the entire Sindh coastline, effectively isolating the region from Pakistani reinforcement.

The Khan of Kalat, having formalized his alliance with India mere days earlier in exchange for guaranteed autonomy and protection, declared his territories fully open to Indian forces.

This diplomatic masterstroke provided Arjun with invaluable logistical support and a secure southern flank for the Balochistan operations.

Suddenly, West Pakistan found itself under crushing pressure from an entirely unexpected direction, with no naval capability to contest India's maritime dominance.

The Northern Grind

While these new fronts exploded into action, the Kashmir war had fundamentally transformed in character.

With Srinagar secured and the main lashkar force systematically broken by mid-November, Indian troops, now reinforced by the first battle-tested PVC units acclimatized to mountain warfare, began the grueling task of clearing remaining resistance pockets throughout the valley.

Brigadier Sen then launched his methodical offensive toward Uri and Muzaffarabad, determined to drive all invaders back across recognized borders.

Simultaneously, specialized mountain divisions, supported by PVC brigades now designated 'Himalayan Eagles', initiated their incredibly arduous push into the towering, frozen ranges of Gilgit-Baltistan.

This represented warfare against not merely a tenacious enemy, but against the unforgiving terrain and brutal winter conditions that claimed as many casualties as enemy fire.

Progress was measured in yards rather than miles, but it maintained relentless forward momentum. The spirit of the Indian soldier, particularly the PVC volunteers who viewed this as liberating sacred Indian soil, proved utterly indomitable despite the horrific conditions.

Delhi

In the War Room, Arjun Mehra absorbed the torrential flow of operational reports with a calm that belied the monumental forces he had unleashed across the subcontinent.

Casualty figures, especially from the PVC spearhead units, provided sobering reminders of the human cost. Each report of fallen soldiers delivered fresh stabs of guilt that he wrestled with during his increasingly rare solitary moments.

But the strategic picture was unfolding largely according to his bold master plan.

The naval reports were particularly satisfying. "Complete maritime supremacy achieved on both fronts," Admiral Katari reported with professional satisfaction.

"Pakistani naval resistance has effectively ceased. We may both be operating the Royal Navy's hand-me-downs, but our superior numbers and coordinated command structure have proven decisive. Their entire western fleet is either sunk, damaged, or blockaded in Karachi harbor. The eastern approaches are completely under our control."

"Sardar-ji," Arjun remarked to Patel one evening as they reviewed the latest advances in East Pakistan and the successful Balochistan landings, "your miraculous integration of the princely states has provided us with the unified foundation we desperately needed. Our naval superiority, though built from the same British surplus as theirs, has proven decisive through sheer numbers and better organization."

Patel, the Iron Man of India, allowed himself a rare, grimly satisfied smile. "The internal consolidation was essential, Arjun. We can now deploy our full strength without watching our backs. You have caught them with their trousers down on every front simultaneously." [A/N: Pun intended]

"They never imagined such a comprehensive, coordinated response was possible, or that their naval defenses were so utterly inadequate."

Arjun smiled and added, "Mr. Jinnah sought to carve out a unified nation based purely on religious identity, but he faces a truly united India, not the fragmented collection of feuding principalities he expected.

Instead, he will soon discover that he has carved out a hopelessly fragmented and economically unviable rump state, by the time Operation Bharat Shakti is over."

Outside the War Room's reinforced windows, Delhi slept fitfully, unaware that the subcontinent's future was being rewritten in real-time by the synchronized violence of the military operation.

The initial shockwaves were already reverberating across South Asia and beyond.

Pakistan reeled under multiple devastating blows, its leadership fragmenting in panic, its scattered forces overwhelmed by the sheer scope and speed of Indian military action, its naval assets either destroyed or cowering in port.

The world was only beginning to comprehend the magnitude and velocity of India's military operations, capabilities far exceeding what any international observer had deemed possible for the newly independent nation.

The lightning blitz was fully underway, its thunder echoing from the frozen peaks of Kashmir to the tropical coastlines of Bengal and Balochistan, while Indian warships, though operating the same vintage vessels as their Pakistani counterparts, patrolled enemy waters through superior numbers and organization.

The next few weeks would determine whether Arjun's monumental gamble would culminate in swift, shattering victory or descend into a wider, unpredictable quagmire that could consume the entire region.

But for now, the drums of war beat to an inexorably Indian rhythm, a rhythm of terrifying, calculated destruction that would reshape the map of South Asia forever.