"One day they forced me to lie
on a slab of ice"
Lt. Col. Masoudul Hossain Khan (Retd.) was in command of Second
Battalion of the East Bengal Regiment in1971. His unit later under the
leadership of its Second-in-Command, Major Shafiullah played an important
roleduring the Liberation War. Col. Masoud was arrested on March 23, 1971, on
the charge of organising a revolt in the Army on March 19, 1971. He was taken to
Pakistan in the first week of April where he suffered imprisonment and was
tortured brutally by the Pakistani Army and Special Branch of Police . His
statement was recorded on October9, 1999.
In March, 1971, I was the officer-in-command of a battalion of the
East Bengal Regiment stationed at Joydevpur. In early March, there was a cricket
match between Australia and Pakistan at the Dhaka Stadium. I went to see the
game. Before beginning of the match, I came to know that the scheduled session
of National Assembly had been postponed. Earlier in 1970, Awami League achieved
absolute majority in the general election, but the Pakistani rulers conspired
not to hand over state power to the Awami League, triggering postponement of the
National Assembly session. As the news spread, the crowd gathered at the stadium
burst into the protest. They came out to the streets that forced the authorities
to abandon the match.Then a non-cooperation movement against the Military Junta
began at the call of Sheikh Mujib. Due to strike, banks were closed, and it was
not possible for me to pay salaries to the soldiers of my battalion on the first
day of March. I could not even bring food rations from Dhaka to Joydevpur. We
were facing some other problems also connected with administration of my unit.
On March 19, my boss Brigadier Jahanjeb Arbab came to Joydevpur
along with 8 to10 vehicles carrying troops. He said that the purpose of his
visit was to see the situation and our problems. But we were suspicious of his
real purpose, due to the huge contingent accompanying him. He must have had some
other intention and that was to disarm us. Since last few days, I had been
getting such hints. At that time I had only 250 soldiers available at Joydevpur
out of the total of 900 personnel of my unit. There were five companies in the
unit. Only Headquarter and One Rifle Company was staying at Joydevpur. Out of
the rest three, two were sent to Tangail and Jamalpur on the excuse of resisting
so-called Indian aggression in the boarder and one was deployed to protect
Gazipur Ordnance Factory. The main purpose behind these deployments on orders
from higher authority was to remove Bengalee soldiers from the headquarters at
Joydevpur.
It was clear to everybody, as it was to me, that the Brigade
Commander had come to disarm us. The local people put barricades on the road
from Tongi to Joydevpur Rajbari, where we were staying, so that the Pakistani
troops could not reach there easily.
However, we remained alert at that time, since we were alert always
to resist so-called Indian aggression from border. The army contingent led by
Brigadier Arbab took extra time to reach Joydevpur after removing the barricades
on the roads. After lunch, when they were planning to return, the local people
once again blocked the road at the Joydevpur Railway Crossing, by placing rail
wagons. Brigadier Arbab ordered me to remove the barricades. He said, “Why
there is so much movement here? Remove the barricades so that I can return to
Dhaka. If required, shoot the people.” I said, “I’ll see what I can do.
But it is absurd for us to shoot our own countrymen.”
After a while, Brigadier Arbab realised that I was not interested
in firing on the people excepting one or two casual shots. Bypassing me, Arbab
ordered Major Moyeen, a Bengalee company commander of mine, to take the
responsibility. I told Moyeen to fire in such a way that the bullets did not hit
the people. Seeing all these, Brigadier Arbab finally ordered his own troops to
shoot on the people. They were taking positions behind and on flanks of our
troops and started firing from machine guns. As they were firing from behind us,
we became almost captive. Some people, including one Monu Mia, were killed in
the firing. The local people also used shot guns and light weapons, but finally
their efforts went in vain against strong Pakistan troops. We tackled the
situation by shifting our position and making way for the troops of Arbab. At
that time, we did not think about using armed measures against Arbab, because
the negotiation for a political settlement between Sheikh Mujib and Yahiya Khan
was still going on. Before leaving Joydevpur, Brigadier Arbab threatened me
saying, “Command your troops properly. This is not the right way.” He
indicated that I would have to face a tougher situation in future.
On March 23, I was called to join a conference in Dhaka. It was
nothing but a ploy. I came to Dhaka in the morning, since my family members
lived there. When I went to Brigade Headquarters, Brigadier Arbab was not there.
He had gone to the city where a tense situation was prevailing. In fact, he was
engaged in killing Bangalees in the city. The Brigade Major told me to wait with
my family members until the return of Brigadier
Arbab. After about two hours, I received a phone call. The Brigade
Major told me on phone that the Commander had returned and was coming on the
line. Brigadier Arbab said, “Colonel Masoud, you are not returning to
Joydevpur. You are no more the Commanding Officer of the Second Bengal. Somebody
else will come and take over. You stay at home and don’t move from the house.
You must report to Station Headquarters everyday from now onwards.” In fact, I
was placed under house-arrest on March 23. When I went to my house, I saw
plain-clothe ISI (Inter Services Intelligence) personnel moving around the area.
There was a rest house beside my house. Earlier I saw the ISI personnel at the
rest house. Their duty was to intercept my friends and relations while entering
my house. At that time it was quite impossible for me to go outside my
residence.
In the meantime, my driver came with the car to take me back to the
regiment office. But the ISI men sent him back. I was replaced a few days later
by Colonel Raqib, a Bengalee officer who was the commander of 32 Punjab
Regiment. But the Bengalee soldiers could not accept him spontaneously. Major
Shafiullah was actually commanding the unit as Col. Raqib was not accepted by
the troops, who came from a Punjab Regiment.
On the night of March 25, trouble erupted in Dhaka. I heard sound
of moving tanks. I never heard so much heavy firing in my life. I called Major
Shafiullah over telephone and informed him about the situation at Dhaka. I also
wanted to know from him the situation at Joydevpur. He replied, “No, nothing
wrong happened here.” I told him, “You should be prepared. Joydevpur is a
likely target, and you may face an attack any time.” Earlier, I had told the
entire battalion that we might have to leave Joydevpur and take shelter at
Madhupur jungle or any other place. I said this in early March. At that time,
Shafiullah had said, “Sir why are you saying this so loudly?” I said,
“I’m telling this to you only. Every body here is Bengalee, so no
problem.” Some Bengalee officers who were present there laughed at it for this
comment. Then I said, “I may not be with you in the days ahead. Nobody knows
what will happen to us tomorrow. So I’m telling you what I’m thinking
today.” I told Shafiullah by phone, “You better try and leave that place.”
Shafiullah was also thinking on those lines. Two or three days after talking to
me, he left along with all his troops, arms and ammunitions. He also took away
the reserve and additional military equipment which were at Joydevpur and was
surplus for a battalion.
When the Pakistan army came to know that Shafiullah had fled, they
suspected me. They took me to Station Headquarters on March 28 in the evening.
They said that they would not allow me to stay at my house. At first I thought
that they would tell me to stay in the officers mess, but later I was confined
in a quarter guard (military prison) of a Punjab Regiment Battalion (32 Punjab).
Every regimental unit has a quarter guard for soldiers. I was a colonel at that
time, and so the quarter guard was not a suitable place for me. However, they
forced me to live there and the army officials started torturing me. They used
to treat me as an ordinary soldier. At first they started torturing me mentally,
and not physically. Sometimes breakfast was given at 10 a.m. instead of 7, and
lunch at 3.30 p.m. instead of 12.30. Sometimes they did not serve me any meal at
all. Sometimes I was given cold tea and dry bread. About 8 or 10 days later, in
the first week of April, on an early hour (about 1am) a Subedar came and said,
“Sir, get ready. You’ll have to go with me.” “Where?” I said, but he
did not reply. Frightened, I asked, “Where you’re taking me? And why?” I
also wanted to know whether I should wear my uniform. The Subedar said, “No
need, you better come in plain clothes.” I had a bag with me. I took some
clothes in the bag. Then I was told to get into a jeep. The soldiers handcuffed
me and tied my hands from behind with a long chain, like a prisoner. The jeep
was advancing towards Air Headquarters at Tejgaon. I had heard that the Pakistan
Army used to take freedom fighters there and kill them. I thought that possibly
I was being taken for the same purpose, and I was very frightened. My physical
condition also deteriorated fast. My situation then can only be imagined by
those who have faced death or were about to face.
After reaching Air Headquarters, the jeep crossed the air strip and
stopped near the Hanger. A Boeing aircraft was waiting there. I was dragged and
ordered to board the plane. At that time I was still tied with a chain. I again
asked, “Subedar Saheb, where you’re taking me?” “Aap jaar ahe hain West
Pakistan (You’re going to West Pakistan),” he replied.“But why you’re
taking me in such a manner? Why you have tied me with chain? Am I an animal?”
I asked. “I am carrying out the order of my officer. I must do it.” He
forced me to sit in the plane in the same condition. I shouted, “How can I sit
like this?” At this time, a pilot of Pakistan Airlines, possibly a foreigner,
came and said, “He cannot sit like this. This a flight of 10 to 12 hours.”
At that time, Pakistani aircraft were not allowed to fly over Indian skies, and
so the West Pakistan bound flights were operated via Colombo. On the request of
the Captain, I was allowed to sit with my hands placed in front of the body, but
they did not unchain me.
It seemed to me that I was the only Bengalee officer who was being
taken to West Pakistan, because all other passengers were Pakistanis. They were
going to Pakistan due to the war and most of them were family members, women,
elders and children. During the journey of 10 to 12 hours, I had to go to the
toilet with the chain tied to my andcuffed wrist. The subedar used to hold the
chain from outside. The plane reached Karachi irport and I had to get down in
the same condition. Subsequently, I was taken to a quarter guard of Malir
Cantonment. A captain received me. I wore sunglasses, and the captain said,
“Colonel, You can’t wear a sunglass. You have been killing our
Pakistanis.” He took my sunglasses, money and all other belongings.
After 3 or 4 days, three officers came one early hours of morning
and said, “Colonel, You are going with us. We’re taking you somewhere
else.” They took me in a jeep without handcuffs this time. According to rule,
an army officer should be escorted by an officer of the same rank. For the first
time I saw an officer of the rank of colonel escorting me. There were 2 or 3
jeeps with us. On the way, we stopped and Brigadier Majumdar and his family
members were also picked up on the way. We were taken to Lahore by plane. My
family members still had to live in Dhaka Cantonment. From Lahore, we were taken
to a place named Pannu, near Kharian Cantonment. We were confined in a
dilapidated rest house of the Roads and Highways Department. It was protected by
two-fold barbed wire. The roof was also protected by barbed wire. Soldiers were
on guard on the roof with machine guns. Armed guards were also posted at all
corners of the rest house. It was like a camp for prisoners of war. Brigadier
Majumdar and his family members were confined on one side of the building.
However, I was not given even a suitable room. I was confined in a tiny chamber
under the staircase where there was no electricity or furniture. I got a blanket
and a cot. It was the month of April. Soon I felt exhausted with the hot weather
in that desert-like place. The mosquito menace added to my miseries. After
repeated requests, an officer gave me a mosquito net and a small fan. The food
was fair, but it was not usually served on time, though served from an officers
mess.
One day I asked an officer whether I could contact my family
members in Dhaka. He allowed me to do so. So, I wrote a number of letters to
Dhaka, but all my letters were censored. My family members also wrote to me, but
I used to get the letters after a long period, sometimes even after a month. All
the letters from Dhaka were read by the army authorities. My address was : C/O
M.I. Directorate, General Headquarters, Rawalpindi, West Pakistan. The name of
the place where I was confined (Pannu or Kharian) was not in the address. I had
to write all the letters in English so that they could read those or censor.
After about one month, I used to be taken to Jhelum from Pannu. It
was on the way to Rawalpindi. I was regularly interrogated there. Sometimes the
interrogation continued for 3 to 4 days in a row. They used to interrogate me by
setting up some high-powered bulbs towards my face. My interrogators used to ask
various types of questions like “How do you know Sheikh Shaheb?” “What
sort of discussions did you have with him?” “What you have done at Joydevpur?”
“How have you maintained contact with the Awami League?” I used to reply
some of their questions and avoid some others. My old colleague Colonel Quaiyum
Anjum from the MI Directorate was among those officers who interrogated me at
Jhelum. He was my old friend. He allured me a lot. He used to tell me,
“Masoud, you were my cadet-mate. I know you well. Please tell the truth.
I’ll free you. You’ll become a full colonel.” He further
said, “Colonel Yasin gave us a statement about you. According to it, you had a
meeting with other high ranking Bengalee officers at Joydevpur. You were
planning to make East Pakistan an independent country.” I replied, “Let him
face me.” As they could not succeed in geting any information from me, they
sent me to the Special Interrogation Centre of the Punjab Police Special Branch
at Lahore Fort in the month of August. I was told earlier that Colonel Yasin was
there and I would have to meet him and confront his statement.
I was confined in a cell near the special interrogation centre of
the fort. I was taken to the centre everyday for interrogation. During
interrogation, I saw Mr. Durrani, a Punjabi, and Mr. Mohammad Anwar, both
Special Branch police officers. They referred of Colonel Yasin while
interrogating me. I denied everything.
On the very first day, Mr. Durrani asked, “What sort of link have
you maintained with the Awami League? We know that you had direct contact with
Sheikh Shaheb and Awami League. You were involved in politics and planned to
make East Pakistan an independent state.” I denied the allegation outright,
“Question does not arise, I’m an army officer. I never got involved in
politics breaking discipline of the armed forces. I have never maintained
contact with any political leader.” When he realised that I would not say
anything, he started beating me up. Once he slapped me and pushed a burning
cigar onto my leg. I cried out in pain. Durrani and Anwar used to initiate the
torture sessions. Then others carried it on thereafter. Both the officers used
to watch this standing by the side.
Once they posed me a new question. “You arranged a picnic at
Joydevpur Rajbari in early January and invited some serving and retired army
officers to join. Many senior Bengalee retired officers like General M.I. Majid,
Colonel Osmani and their families joined the picnic. When the ladies were busy
cooking, you had a meeting to hatch a conspiracy to divide the country.” I
denied it also. Then they said, “Colonel Yasin and Brigadier Majumdar said
this. Why you are denying?” I said, “Take me to them for cross-examining
their statement.” They thought that I was lying. So they began another session
of furious torture. Beside slapping, fisting and boxing, they pierced needles
into my nail, pushed burning cigar onto my legs— from knee to toes. At one
stage, I fell unconscious. When I recovered slightly, they gave me electric
shock on my nipples, and other sensitive parts of the body making me unconscious
again.
After a few days, one Brigadier Kader came and said, “You had a
good career record in the last few years. However, your career has been finished
by the negative confidential report submitted by Brigadier Arbab. General Khadim
Hossain Raja, the G.O.C. and General Yakub of Eastern Command however gave good
reports about you. Why you are not telling the truth? If you do so, I’ll
arrange your freedom. You’ll be promoted to the rank of Brigadier. Why you are
spoiling this great opportunity?” This Brigadier was a few months senior to
me. I was not convinced by his temptation. The interrogators again they started
torturing me. Durrani beat up me with an iron rod wrapped with rubber. They
wrapped rubber so that there was no stain on my skin. I fell unconscious many
times during the torture. Sometimes they used to apply unusual method of
torture. One day they forced me to lie on a slab of ice. In severe pain, I
shouted loudly. At that time they held my hands and legs. I fell unconscious
again and remained so for hours.
Sometimes they used to hang me upside down with rope tied with my
legs and beat me up mercilessly. My nose often started bleeding, but the torture
continued. Sometimes I found myself lying in a pool of blood. One day they
brought a red hot iron rod. One of them said, “Tell everything, otherwise it
will be pushed into your rectum.” They again started the interrogation, but I
denied all the allegations. Then they applied the hot iron rod on my back. I
fell unconscious for several hours. When my sense came back, I found myself on a
bed in the Police Hospital. One day I felt severe pain in my gums. I asked to be
taken to a dentist, but instead of doing this, one of the soldiers boxed me with
his full strength and my tooth broke. My mouth started bleeding. I have no
language to express the barbaric torture unleashed on me by the Pakistani army
and police.
After about two months, a captain came with a signal message from
Dhaka that had reached Pakistan a month ago. They had already read it. I came to
know that my 8-year-old son was suffering from pneumonia. But the army
authorities did not allow my family to get him admitted to Combined Military
Hospital (CMH). Due to movement restriction, my family could not take him
outside the cantonment. So the CMH was the only
hospital where he could be treated. However, due to lack of
treatment one of his lungs was damaged. When the other was also infected, the
authorities finally gave permission to admit him at the CMH. According to rules,
when an army person or his family member falls seriously sick, the head of the
family is informed and allowed to stay beside the patient. In my son’s case,
they only informed me that he was on the D.I. list, but did not allow me to go
and see him. Some officers said, “Your son is very sick. If you want to see
him, you can tell us.” I said, “Yes, I want to go.” The officers said,
“You’ll be sent back to East Pakistan soon, if you confess your guilt.”
A few days before this, my family members sent some photographs of
my sons and daughters. They opened the envelop and saw all the photographs. Then
they threatened me saying, “Your children are good looking. They are also good
students, but they are now in our palm. If you do not confess everything,
we’ll crush them to instant death.”
They threatened me again and again, but could not convince me. One
day they showed the statements given by Colonel Yasin and Brigadier Majumdar and
said, “They are being freed as they told the truth. You also do the same and
get freed.” In this way, the interrogators tried to allure me, tried to
confuse me. At that time I was so mentally disturbed that I could not think
about promotion. I only thought how could I see my sick child. At last I agreed
to their proposal. I said, “O.K. I’ll do whatever you tell.” The Pakistani
interrogators brought a typed statement which I signed. In late September, I was
shifted from Lahore to Layalpur Jail. The guards used to tell me that Sheikh
Mujib and Dr Kamal Hossain were there. Later I came to know that there was a
Special Tribunal Court inside the jail. I also came to know that I would be
tried in the tribunal. If I agreed to be a state witness, I would be released. I
would have to tell before the court all that contained in my signed statement.
The chairman of the tribunal was one Brigadier A Rahim. A civil
judge and three or four other military officers were the members of the
tribunal. Brigadier Rahim handed me an album during the trial. Showing a
photograph, he asked, “Do you know these people?” I said, “No.” A few
minutes later, he further asked, “Tell us which one is Motia Chowdhury.” I
said, “I can’t, because I never saw her.” Thus all the information
mentioned in the statement proved to be irrelevant. Then Brigadier Rahim showed
me some other photographs and asked, “Tell us which one is the residence of
Sheikh Mujib.” I said, “I can’t recognise.” Sheikh Mujib was present in
the tribunal and was smiling hearing me. I was present before the court for five
minutes only. Then the tribunal allowed me to go.
Two days later, I was brought to a rest house in Rawalpindi. At one
noon, one of my old colleagues, Major Sarwar said, “Sir, you’re returning
home by the evening flight. Your son is still very sick.” On October 8, I
reached Dhaka from Pindi via Colombo. Sarwar also came with me. He handed me
over to another officer. I was taken directly to my house so that I could meet
my family members. Then I was taken to CMH where my son was admitted. My son
started crying on seeing me. After about half an hour, the major escorting me
said, “You’ll have to go with me.” I said, “Where? To my house?” He
said, “No Your house is not safe, because the Muktibahinis will kill you.
You’ll be taken to the officers mess.” Before being taken to the mess, I was
allowed to meet my family members again. I went to my house, but could not enter
it, because a guard was sitting in the drawing room. The guest room was also
occupied. Mrs Khaleda Zia and her two sons were there. The same soldiers were
guarding two families confined in my residence. I was taken to a guest room of
the Ordnance Corps Officer Mess. Taking permission of the authorities, I brought
my youngest son aged about 3 years to stay with me. I used to go to see my other
son at the hospital everyday under strict escort and security. A few days later,
I saw Mrs Khaleda Zia and her sons sitting near the lawn, since they were also
shifted from my family residence to the Ordnance Officers Mess premises. I was
allowed to keep my transistor with me. I told my wife to put my small pistol
inside the transistor. At that time we used to listen to Swadhin Bangla Betar
Kendra which mainly broadcast the victory stories of the Muktibahini. Hearing
these news, I also started dreaming of becoming free. I wanted to keep the
pistol with me for protection of my son and also to resist any sudden attack.
The guards never noticed that I had a pistol in the transistor.
My son did not recover even in late November. He was being given
oxygen everyday. In such a condition, the hospital authorities discharged him
abruptly, because the number of injured people and dead bodies from war front
increased at that time. As the hospital authority failed to accommodate all,
they decided to remove the Bengalee patients. The hospital authorities told us,
“Try to get your son admitted somewhere else.” I said, “There is no other
hospital inside the cantonment area. So I’ll have to go outside.” They said,
“No, you have no permission to go outside. If possible, bring doctors from
outside.”
My son was released from the CMH in a serious condition. I could
not manage further treatment for him. Finally, both his lungs were damaged and
he died lying on my lap, a few weeks later. On December 14, the allied forces
conducted an airstrike on the cantonment targeting the headquarters of General
Niazi. Several bombs fell near our officers mess creating a large ditch. But we
remained unhurt miraculously. Then I sent my youngest son back home and I stayed
alone.
It was December 16. I heard that the Pakistani forces would
surrender that day. Without delaying a single moment, I rang a telephone number,
that was of the ISI, and said, “You’re surrendering today. Now permit
me to return home. I want to meet my family.” The ISI men said, “We can’t.
Because we can’t contact Rawalpindi and we have no orders for you.” I said,
“You’ll never be able to contact Rawalpindi. How do you expect that?
Bangladesh has already been established. The surrendering ceremony is going to
be held this afternoon.” The ISI official said, “We have nothing to do.
We’re surrendering and going to become prisoners. You’ll also be with us, as
our guest!” I said, “You are going to be the guests of Muktibahini.”
Refusing my request to release me, they took me to the Combined Workshop, where
I saw about 150 Pakistani officers surrounded by Indian guards. Suddenly a
Pakistani officer named Major Iftekhar came and said, “Sir, you have still
been kept confined unnecessarily.” Then I told him to make arrangements for my
release. Iftekhar said, “If you give me your jacket, then I will try.” I
wore a warm jacket as it was December, but I agreed to give it to him. Iftekhar
promised me that he would try to free me in the evening. For this reason, he
went round the area to find out ways. In the evening, he took me near the
position of Indian army. A Pakistani guard asked, “Where are you going?”
Iftekhar somehow managed him and said, “My duty has finished. Now you have to
face the Indian guards. You’ll have to manage it. If they see me with you,
they will not allow you to go free.”
A Sikh soldier intercepted me and started interrogation. I told him
that I was a Bangalee officer. The Pakistanis confined me for long nine months
and tortured me. I also showed him the torture marks on my body. The Indian
soldier observed carefully and allowed me to go. Thus I was freed on the evening
of 16th December. I got rid of the mental and physical torture. However, what
was more painful for me was that I could not regain my position after
independence. Even after 28 years, whenever I look at my feet or touch my back,
I go back to that horrible chapter of my life. I recall those frightful moments
shivering in fear again and again.
Interviewed by Ruhul Motin