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Dhaka Day by Day

Death to Life

by Rahat Fahmida
An American family talked about its experience in Bangladesh, during the liberation war of 1971. At this time the McKinley parents were residing at a guest house in Dhaka city, with their four young children. We have heard in many ways the experiences of local families and that of the Muktt Jodhhas. This missionary family of Jim McKinley has gone to great lengths to share their experiences with others. With this tn mind Mr. McKinley has written an English book titled 'Death to Life Bangladesh'. where he vividly describes his and the family's experience during the war. This book was later translated' in Bengali. Both from his conversation and the book it was Inevitable that they were touched by the brutal war efforts to destroy the Bengali people and their culture. They were very much a struggling party In the war
They first came to Bangladesh and 1958 an through the years. onYnany occasions, often felt that great distances In relationships that separated them from the Bengali people. But 1970-71 erased many of those doubts about relationships. As Mr. McKinley once said, this was because Bengali people turned to them in friendship.
Looking down the memory lane. Mr. McKinley briefly recounted the early days of December 1971. He initially felt that time was running out. As Dhaka was filled with strong ten inch walled buildings, each floor and roofing of most of those buildings was steel reinforced concrete. Nearly every building was surrounded by strong brick walls. The city buildings provided the rugged Pakistani soldiers with the opportunity of surviving any onslaught of the Bengali and Indian ground attack for weeks, or even as a buffer to protect the soldiers.
Jim McKinley continued. "With the continuous swearing by General Niazi to fight to the last man. we expected rough days leading up to Christmas and on into the new year I won dered — were we emotionally and spiritually prepared for such a struggle?
'We constantly listened to various shortwave radio broadcast We had heard the news clearly telling of the advance of the Indian and Bengali forces. Each day, we knew their distance from Dhaka. On the morning of December 15th we heard. The Indian Army has the city of Dhaka surrounded. Their planes control the air. General Niazi continues to say he will fight to the last man to hold the city '
"Such news caused us to tremble. Though thousands had left Dhaka in early December, it was estimated that possibly up to 200.000 people were still tn the city with no way out.
'But we were also sure that since we were hearing these short-wave broadcasts, our friends around the world had the same news. Neither we nor these estimated 200.000 Bengalis were forgotten Though often we were so low we hardly felt like praying, we knew strong friends were praying."
'During the few times of December 15th when the planes were not attacking, there was absolute silence except the bursting of shells on the periphery of the city. There weren t many smiles on our faces. That night it was rather quiet Only tlje sounds from planes bombing the army areas north of the airport troubled us.
"We had heard rumors that Pakistan was go Ing to surrender, but I didn't believe the Mus Mm Army had reached the point when it was ready to surrender to an army dominated by Indian Hindus. From what I knew of the city, before Indian and the Bengalis could take it. the Pakistan army was in a position to kill two or even three of their opposition before one of their own men died.
‘On the early morning of December 16th. 1 climbed the steps leading to the fiat roof of the Guest House. Only one Indian plane was in the sky. The burst of shells could be heard and smoke seen In the distance, but the city was not being attacked. It seemed that this was the calm before the storm. But thanks to God I was wrong. We were sitting In the death trap, but the radio news said. 'General Niazi has been ordered to surrender his forces in East Pakistan." With that statement, there was no more East Pakistan to anyone.
"Suddenly, we saw — we experienced, the birth of a giant nation — the world's eighth largest in population. Bangladesh, the nation of the Bengalis was born. And we felt like one of them.
"Within an hour’s time, hundreds of fully armed Pakistan soldiers came from every direction and moved north up the road by the Guest House toward the army base to surrender to the Indian Army. We had no Idea that so many of them had been in hiding near us waiting for the arrival of their would be attackers.
The Pakistani soldiers' heads drooped low as they dragged their feet. For thirteen days.
they had been under heavy attacks from the air. Most of them had had little sleep. They seemed hardly able to carry their rifles. From this problem, some of them received help as Bengali young men ran out into the streets and pulled at their rifles. Some of them handed the rifles to the Bengalis
"Within that same hour, the
Bengali and Indian soldiers poured into the city. The first main entrance into the city was from the west down the road by our Guest House So we were in the welcoming group. The Bengalis went wild Everywhere we looked, there were people carrying rifles, firing them wildly into the air. Some little boys had to drag theirs, for they were too heavy to
'Some young men ran past the Guest House changing clothes as they ran. We knew they were the Razakars. who had collaborated with the army. They were quickly trying to change their appearance.
The police vacated the station Just south of the Guest House, since some of them had been collaborators. Civilians ransacked the station carrying away pistols, rlfies and other weapons as well as boxes of shells.
Though we sensed a new danger, we too, were caught up in the excitement of freedom. Our children stood by the gate waving wildly to the victorious soldiers as they continued to enter the city The children, standing by the gate, drew wild applause when the little flag was seen.
'Indian soldiers stopped by the Guest House to inquire who we were and if we were okay Bangladesh was free. That was all that counted right then.'
After staying In Bangladesh for the next twenty years. Mr. McKinley finally went back to America Just a few months ago. But his heart lies here with most of his fondest memo rtes. As he assured that he would continuously look out for an opportunity to come back