Woman mokti bahini in 1971 war of Bangladesh

In 1971, I was 22 years old. My husband and I lived in small village.  My husband was a farmer and I worked as a teacher in our village primary school.

 One day. Pakistani army took my husband to their camp. Razaker Bahini told them that my husband is a Mukti Jodhaa.  2days later I found my husband body in a grave yard along with other people. There did dead smell every where. It was no word to describe that what they have done to us. So I joined in mokti bahini.

War is no substitute for peace. But freedom fighters must protect the honor of their dear motherland at all costs. Since the colonial rulers unleashed a savage war and genocide on the unarmed innocent Bengalee civilians, the Freedom Fighters were left with no option but to fight for the freedom of Bangladesh. I cook food for them and supply ammo and bomb gun for them. I sometimes sing song for them to inspire fight against the Pakistani military.

One day I was supplying some ammo bomb and gun one village to another village. Suddenly we saw some Pakistani military with 2 Razaker passing the road. I was thinking what I should do. Suddenly one idea comes to mind that I put all ammo, bomb and gun put in ground and covered in white cloth and make it as dead man body. I also colored red that look like blood and I started to cry. When the Pakistani came the Pakistani solder said to Razakar why she is crying, the Razakar said that “This is the girl that we killed her husband” Don’t worry lets go.

Then I marked them.  Later I told my Mokti Bahini that, those Pakistani armies killed my husband and village people. So we attacked at night and arrested those Pakistani armies and punish Razakhar by hang.

After nine months struggle we won victory in the surrender of the Pakistani solders on the 16^th December. We rebuild our primary school. And I teach my student about our history, that how we achieve our glory.

I was a student in 1971 war in Bangladesh

Up to 25^th march 1971, Bangladesh was one of the two parts of Pakistan. This part was called East Pakistan and the other part was called West Pakistan. At that time I was a college student and my age was 18. I lived in Dhaka with my family. I had two good friends’ names Hasan and Arif. We would go to college, played and enjoyed together. There a good relationship among us. But it is a matter of sorrow that they are no more in the earth. They were killed by the Pakistani army in the 25^th March, 1971. I had a cousin too. She often came to my house. her house was beside my house. I always enjoyed with her. She was a brilliant student of Dhaka university she always helped me in my studies.

1971 was the last time when I had visited my cousins’ house. In the 25^th March, 1971 the Pakistani army moved out of dead of night and caught the people of Bangladesh unaware. Pakistani army became very much aggressive in that night. They killed a lot of people of our country. They burnt their houses and looted their wealth. Many people went away from their own houses and came to their native village we also came to our native village in khulna. Bangladesh was declared independent on the 26^th of March 1971 at kalur ghat of chittagong by  Major ziaur rahaman on behalf of our great leader bango bandhu shekh muhibur rahaman we started the war of liberation. The struggle then came to end after nine months Bangladesh war we then went back to our won home. We saw many skeletons lying in the premises of our house. It is true to say that the skeletons were found not only in our home but also every where in Bangladesh. When I remember my cousin, drops of water come out from my two eyes. We don’t find her till today. We don not know that where she is? How is she? Is she alive? I will never forget them.

I was Teenager in 1971 war in Bangladesh

                In a fine morning of 1971 I was getting ready to go to my school when my mother came and told me that the Pakistan Army has finally set foot in our village late last night and they have occupied our school as their camp. A feeling of curiosity, fear grasped me. Curiosity because I have long wanted to see the face of these people whose cruel and savage activity has torn apart our country and its people; fear because now that they are here they’ll soon begin their cruelty in here, 

          

          Within a day or two I realized there was no place for such childish feelings; war was a serious matter. When one sees his cancer stricken father being shot in front of his eyes and as his mother jumps over her dead husband wailing and get a bullet from the dangerously savage Pakistanis on her back and the son looks on helplessly, mutely from his hiding place the feelings ought to change. In my case it was replaced by inexplicable hatred, urgency and determination to eliminate the Pakistani troops and myself. I just couldn’t forgive myself for my cowardness. Within the ten minutes of the incident I felt I have grown from 15 years to atleast a 30 year old man.

              When fighting in the front I realized the literal meaning of the hell breaking loose.  I felt the warm sticky feelings of blood which spurted out why I cut the throat of a Pakistani army – that was my first experience in man slaughtering. I had to use my every bit of will power not to faint but I couldn’t suppress the shrill cry of  ‘ Mother , where are you ?’ as I struggled in agony . I often wondered how I carried one injured co-fighter on my back to our camps.  I consoled him the whole way the he’ll be fine. But when we reached the camp my leader told me that I needn’t take the trouble of carrying him as he was dead. I couldn’t believe my ears but my eyes saw clearly that he was dead as wood and one of his eyes were staring at me while the other was just a black hole because the bullet went through it. I couldn’t stop feeling the cold shiver that ran down my spine thinking that I carried a dead body on my back – may be the teenager in me was still there.

            Sometimes we used to discuss what we’ll do after the war was over.  Many of us didn’t have an answer. Matured minds are stuck in the body of 15 years old… 

          On the 16th December when I first saw the Green-Red flag of our hard earned country I felt so very different and a pang to help recover and rebuild our very own country ‘Bangladesh’.  The depressions that surrounded me very often vanished totally.  As I joined the ‘Bijoy Michil’  I took a silent oath that I’ll  heal this country from its tears and worn outs along with the others and I realized with a deep relief that I was no longer aimless , no longer a teenager during the war but an enriched person like many other freedom fighters and that we have a mission to be fulfilled .

A story in 1971 war of Bangladesh

This recount I am about to tell, would bring into the fore one more time the inhuman butchery and atrocities committed by the Pakistan army as I witnessed with my own eyes.

In 1971, I was a student at EPUET (now BUET) and staying at Shere-e- Bangla Hall. Just a few days before that the political problems engulfed East Pakistan as General Yahya steadfastly refused to accept the mandate of the people of East Pakistan for full autonomy. It was the exam time and we ware preparing for my 2nd year examination, many students staying their own residential halls for prepareation.

On the eve of 25th March, 1971, I went to bed a bit early at night. Suddenly at around 11.00 P.M, my deep slumber was disturbed by the noise of a constant barrage of gunfire. At first, I thought that it must be the firecrackers by Bengalese to celebrate the victory. But soon I realized my mistake. I opened the window. It was very dark. I could see military men all around the campus. Then, all on a sudden a hail of bullet shattered the nearby window. The bullets hit the ceiling and walls and I lied on my chest and grabbed the floor as if that was my life. The firing continued incessantly for almost 3.00 A.M or so, in the morning I came In front of the Jagannath Hall lawn I saw a huge mass grave. The grave was so fresh and shallow that we could see some half buried corpse. Some hands and feet protruding from under the soil due to the consolidation of soil, I guess. It was a grotesque scene, to put it mildly. I do not know how many people were buried there. Judging from the size of the grave, my guess was at least a few hundreds.

Let us not forget these killing fields. Let us not forget the sacrifice of 3 million people who shed enough blood to change the verdure of monsoon drenched land of Bengal. They certainly gave their lives so that we can enjoy the fruits of freedom.

Freedom is a birthright in 1971 war of Bangladesh

Freedom is a birthright of every human being. Similarly every nation has the right to be independent is not a right but a necessity. Our country, Bangladesh became independent in 26^th March 1971 in exchange off a large amount of blood. In 1971, I was 19 years young boy. I lived with my family in khulna. The Pakistani rules don’t want the welfare of the people of Bangladesh but their own advantages. They took away wealth to their own country. People of this country did not get employment according to my merit and did not get reward for their work.

Bangladeshi people therefore became miserable and unhappy under a Pakistani ruler. The barbarous Pakistani military launched an inhumane attack on the innocent and peace loving citizens of Bangladesh on the 25^th march

  

There follows a long period of suffering and bloodshed. But the freedom lovers ultimately achieve success.

About 3 million of people laid down their lives in the time of liberation war. Many mothers had lost their children, many wives had lost heir husbands and many sisters had lost their brothers. We also had lost our own relatives. After nine months struggle we won victory in the surrender of the Pakistani solders on the 16^th December, 1971 however the day is a red -letter day in the history of our country

 In that time bango bandhu sheikh mujibur rahaman was arrested and flown to an unknown place of West Pakistan 

1971 war story of Comilla

In 1971 our family lived in Comilla town. I was first year student in Comilla Victoria College. My father was a farmer. In war Pakistani military occupied our college as their camp. High way road Comilla is the connection between Dhaka to chitagoang. They often patrol the road in search of “ Mokti Jodhaa” if they suspect him as a Mokti Jodhaa they killed them. My college friends and my some village young people we join in Mokti Jodhaa. One day one Razakar with some Pakistani military came to our house, searched me.

They also captured some villager people including my fathers. Later they asked my father “where is your son? Or I will kill you” They did not say any thing. Pakistani army killed my father and village innocent people in line. Few days later I heard news that what happened to our village, I was shocked I couldn’t control myself. So our friends took promise that we will save our country from Pakistani army by any cost even if we die in battle.

Some day late our Capt. prepared an operation that when the Pakistani army will cross over the bridge by jeep. We will setup bomb on bridge and blow them up. We will separate two group one will setup explosive on bridge. Other will arrest them if any of them survived from the blast.

Two days later our captain said tomorrow 1 platoon Pakistani army will cross over the bridge heading to Chitagoang. So this is our opportunity once in life time.  That night we setup 3 highly explosives bomb on bridge and we position our self for hiding. At noon Pakistani army jeep crossing over the bridge then we detonated the bomb. Suddenly with a big blast hit the bridge and blow up Pakistani 5 jeeps full with soldiers. Then we go near the blast we saw some Pakistani solider servived form the blast we shot them one by one and we took their guns and supplies.

We fight many operations. After nine months struggle, Bangladesh emerged as an independent state in the world map.

1971 war story of Barishal

In 1971 we lived a village in Barishal. It is called land of river. I was 16 years old and my brother was 21 years old we both are student .when the war was started, Pakistani army search for “ Mokti Bahini” if they catch any of them. They killed them and their body floating on river. Many father lost their child, some of them found in river some could not identify their sons.

My father told my brother and me “Go hide somewhere or Join Mokti Bahini. I don’t know what to say. Then I and my brother joined “Mokti Bahini “and trained came back in our village one month later. Just because it is a land of river Pakistani army patrol the river with heavy gun boat. So our Mokti Bahini commander prepared a plan that tomorrow night we will attack Pakistani gun boat. Our plan was, by separated three small groups and destroyeds Pakistani heavy gun boat by bomb. So my brother was a good swimmer, he was selected for set under water mine bomb.

That night was black moon night. It was too hard to see from one shore to another. We were moving our boat slowly not to disturb the sound because only way they could hear our presence by sound. When we come close to enemy boat my brother took 3 grenades with two Mukti Jodhaa swimming towards Pakistani gun boat. We move face to face our leader gives us sing for firing them with in second we were firing and make them distract from my brothers’ approach. Two minute passes and I am getting afraid that they might spot my brother position. I start fire more then suddenly Pakistani gun boat burst out on fire. We saw many Pakistani armies swimming for their life to shore. But when they reached shore, our leader and team killed them one by one.

In this way my brother and we “Mokti Baheni” fought many battle. After 9 months of suffering and bloodshed. But the freedom lovers ultimately achieve the ssuccess.