As the second CAP of the day was scrambled from Sargodha about an hour or so later, Sakesar's Radar picked up an enemy track of 4 air­craft at 36,000 feet over the battle area. The CAP was directed to engage the enemy. The two PAF Sabres, led by Flight Lieutenant Yusaf Ali Khan, though outnum­bered, engaged the formation of 4 Gnats. In the ensuing fight 2 more Gnats appeared on the scene. The PAF pair put up a stout performance to disperse the enemy, thus thwart­ing their intentions.

The F-104, flown by Flying Officer Abbas Mirza, after futile pursuit of another hostile track, was redirected by Sakesar towards this ongoing com­bat. With a series of high-speed dives through the tightly circling aircraft, the F-104 helped to drive the enemy away. Flight Lieutenant Yusaf's Sabre had been badly damaged by the 30mm guns of a Gnat in this encounter, but he bravely nursed it back to Sargodha, and later flew it again.

There was an ironic sequel to this combat. While the melee was on, Sakesar had scrambled another F-104 to the scene. Flight Lieutenant Hakimullah (who later became Air Chief Marshal and Chief of the Air Staff from 1988-91) had arrived just too late when he came across one of the Gnats returning to its base after the engagement but had strayed from its main formation. Its pilot was horri­fied to confront another F-104 at such close quarters. Finding itself over the disused PAF airfield of Pasrur, its pilot promptly lowered his undercar­riage in surrender, and landed the aircraft intact, with the assistance of its tail parachute. Flight Lieutenant Hakimullah continued circling over­head for some 20 minutes or so, until the Gnat and its pilot were captured by Pakistani troops.

After interrogation, it was estab­lished that the pilot, Squadron Leader Brij Pal Singh, Sikand had taken off from Pathankot. His forma­tion of six Gnats had been assigned that morning to provide close support for Indian Army troops in the Bhimber area. The Indian Air Force Gnat pilot claimed that he had lost his radio, his compass and his two 30 mm cannons had jammed.

The rest is narrated by Saad Hatmi:

"It was an exciting morning on the 3rd of September, 1965 when the PAF Sabres had their first real aerial combat with the IAF Gnats. I was in the standby hut, awaiting my turn when we got the news that Flight Lieutenant Yusaf and Flying Officer Khaliq had engaged six Gnats.

I did not hear the account of the fight till after my first mission of the day. But the real news that got me jumping was that Flight Lieutenant Hakimullah had forced the Commanding Officer of an IAF Gnat Squadron to land at Pasrur, a disused airfield near Sialkot. There was no way to confirm the news till the Station Commander, Group Captain M.Z. Masud called me to his Operations Tent and I was officially told to fly to Pasrur as soon as possi­ble. I was to inspect the aircraft and assess the damage, if any, and to esti­mate ground equipment that may be required to fly it out of Pasrur.

From the air it looked like a big Mela at Pasrur airfield as Wing Commander Ayaz and I arrived over­head. The IAF Gnat had been switched off at the end of the run­way. There were people everywhere and more were coming; they came on foot, bicycles, tongas, horses, cars and buses; all to see the IAF fighter. We had to buzz the airfield many a time before the crowd gave us enough room to land. It was a touching scene as we parked next to the Gnat. The crowd broke into wild clapping and greeted us with loud cheers of "PAF Zindabad". The Gnat was being guarded by a detachment of Army Jawans.

Some Pakistan Army officers met us as we came out of the aircraft. One of the officers gave us a brief account of the morning events. They were in their tented camp when they saw the aircraft, but were not quite sure of its identity till it came in to land. They rushed out to the airfield and got to the pilot as he was stepping down from the cockpit. (I believe the IAF Pilot, Squadron Leader Brij Pal Singh Sikand nearly `passed out' when he realised that he had landed inside Pakistan.)

On visual inspection of the Gnat, there appeared to be no damage to it and it looked serviceable despite its ill-kept and dirty appearance. With the help of the local police and air­men, i had the aircraft pushed into a patch of tall corn at the end of the runway lest the enemy try to destroy it from the air.

In the meantime, a helicopter land­ed to pick up Sikand who was till then in Army custody. I met Sikand when he was brought to the airfield. He was a smart Sikh pilot but with­out the usual long tresses. During our friendly chat he confessed that he was unsure of his position but the presence of an F-104 overhead had helped him into a quick decision to land at Pasrur. For a pilot, who hand­ed over a perfectly serviceable air­craft to the enemy, he was too cocky. He thought it was a big joke when I told him that I was going to fly the Gnat to our base. According to him the Gnat was complex and difficult to start let alone to fly.

The Army was very helpful and had detailed a party to guard the Gnat for as long as it was required. With their help, we went to work on camouflaging the aircraft. I spent the night at Pasrur.

Early next morning, Wing Commander Ayaz again flew down to Pasrur to pick me up and I was back with my squadron at Sargodha to catch up on all the gossip. Group Captain M.Z. Masud was very busy when I went to make my report but he found time to listen to me and asked me to wait for further instruc­tions.

I heard nothing more about the Gnat till late in the afternoon on 5th September. When I reported to the Operations Tent, Group Captain F.S. Hussain was with the Station Commander. This time I was to travel by road to Pasrur and also take a ground party with me. When all was set, I was to inform the Station Commander on the telephone. Take Off (T/O) was set for 6 a m on the 6th and four Sabres were to escort me back to Sargodha By the time we col­lected all the equipment, it was 5 p.m. and we set out for Pasrur in a 3­ton truck to collect our war-prize. We got to the airfield at about midnight and after a most welcome cup of tea, found our way to the aircraft.

I must praise here the technicians for their enthusiasm and speed with which they went to work on an entire­ly new type of aircraft. After a thor­ough pre-flight check was done, we attempted our first start of the engine to the background music of the heavy artillery guns firing away in the distance. Not knowing the exact air pressure required to turn the starter-turbine, we decided to begin our attempts with 35 PSI. It took us most of the night and nearly one full bottle of compressed air to get our first start at 4:30 am on the morning of 6th September.

Sitting in the cockpit for so long was quite comforting to me but there was one mystery I could not solve. Try as I may, I could not find the flap-­lever and yet the flaps were down. The Radio could not be checked out. I was fully satisfied with the aircraft and, flaps or no flaps, I was ready to take it home. The Officer Commanding Maintenance Wing at Sargodha had arranged for some fuel to be delivered at the field and the fuel truck rolled in on the button at 5 am.

I left the aircraft in search of a tele­phone. Just outside the airfield area, I found an Army Field Ambulance Unit that had moved in, the day before. The Commanding Officer, Colonel Ghaznavi very kindly let me use his telephone.

Group Captain Masud sounded genuinely pleased at our success but was sorry that he could not provide the escort aircraft due to heavy com­mitments. He asked me to stand by the telephone for further instruc­tions. I spent a most pleasant morn­ing with the officers of the Field, Ambulance Unit swapping experi­ences and war-stories. It was around 11:30 am. when the final word came. I was to take off and return alone to Sargodha. What a way to get home: in an enemy aircraft without radio and the war just declared!

My only worry was our anti-aircraft guns at Sargodha. For once I had to meet the TOT (Scheduled Time of Arrival ) or get shot down by some trigger-happy gunner.

Colonel Ghaznavi came to the air­field to see me off. The start-up was no sweat but the helmet that I had collected off the IAF pilot would not fit me properly. Since time was run­ning out, I decided to fly without one; it was fairly noisy but not unbear­able. I posted some men at about 1/3rd way down the runway to act as acceleration checkpoint, lined up and ran up the engine all the way to 10,000 rpm. All was well (except that maddening noise) and so I rolled. The speed was increasing and the TGT was OK. But another glance at the instrument panel and I froze -8,200 rpm! Plenty but not enough, I practi­cally had to sit on the brakes to stop from going off the runway. As I was taxiing back to the starting point, it dawned on me that I had misread the blessed instrument: it had been 10,200 rpm! Lucky that I had not bent the machine in my panic.

My next attempt was fine and at last the mystery of the missing flap-­lever was over. Apparently, flaps are connected to the undercarriage and automatically go up or down with the undercarriage. At last I was on my way home after a pass over Colonel Ghaznavi and the ground-crew. Flying low and fast, to stay out of trouble, I noticed that the cockpit was getting to be unbearably hot. The perspiration was making me very uncomfortable and kept getting in my eyes. My "friend", the Indian pilot, had left the cockpit air-lever in hot position and I just could not move it at all so I flew low all the way to the base. Except for the sizzling heat in the cockpit, which nearly roasted me, everything went along smoothly. At long last I was overhead my base and, as I looked down, I saw hundreds of PAF personnel coming towards the runway. They had heard about the arrival of the prized trophy. I landed smoothly and came to a halt at the tarmac; and as I came out of the cock­pit, I was greeted with a full-throated `Nara-e-Takbir' by my colleagues.

Flight Lieutenant Saad Akhtar Hatmi who flew the captured Indian Gnat fighter aircraft from Pusrur to Sargodha.