Airlanding at Srinagar (October 27, 1947): India’s first wartime airlift and the race to save the Valley

At 8 am on 27 October, the first Dakota carrying elements of 1 Sikh swept over the Kashmir Valley. (Courtesy: X | @IAF_MCC)

India’s decision to airlift troops into Srinagar on October 27, 1947 remains one of the most dramatic and consequential military operations in its history. Conducted under immense pressure, with the Valley hours away from collapse, the airlanding of 1 Sikh not only prevented Srinagar from falling but also laid the foundation for the counter-offensives that followed, culminating in the decisive victories at Shalateng and beyond. The operation has acquired near-mythic significance, but its success was not inevitable. It was the product of speed, improvisation, courage, and a leadership that understood that if the Plains did not reach the Valley in time, Kashmir itself would be lost.

The Valley on the brink: Why India had to act immediately

By the third week of October 1947, the situation in Kashmir had deteriorated to crisis proportions. The tribal lashkars, surging through Muzaffarabad and Domel, had overrun the state forces with alarming speed. Baramulla, the gateway to Srinagar, had fallen on October 26. Looting, arson and chaos in the town delayed the invaders — a delay that proved decisive — but the tribal forces remained barely 30 miles from Srinagar.

What made the situation truly desperate was the collapse of the State Forces. After the annihilation of the 4 J&K Infantry at Domel, most units were disorganised, retreating or scattered. Reports of massacres and atrocities created panic that raced ahead of the invaders. Srinagar was in shock; the airfield was undefended; the Maharaja had fled; and a terrified administration was unsure whether reinforcements would arrive before the lashkar stormed the city.

Even as political negotiations raced toward the Instrument of Accession, military commanders in Delhi understood a stark truth: the airfield had to be held at all costs. If it fell, there would be no way to build up Indian forces in the Valley. The tribal columns, emboldened by easy victories, believed they were hours away from capturing Srinagar and its fabled riches.

Time had become the most precious commodity.

The decision to airlift troops: A military gamble without precedent

Late on October 26, after the Maharaja signed the Instrument of Accession, the Government of India authorised the immediate deployment of troops. There was no time to move forces by road; the Jammu-Srinagar route was too long, too exposed and already compromised. The only viable option was an emergency airlift from Palam — the first large-scale wartime airlanding attempted by the Indian Army.

The responsibility of spearheading the operation went to 1 Sikh, commanded by Lt. Col. Dewan Ranjit Rai, a calm but audacious officer. His orders were stark: land at Srinagar at first light, secure the airfield, and hold it until reinforced — no matter the cost.

The Royal Indian Air Force scrambled Dakota aircraft through the night. Many pilots had little experience landing fully loaded transports in a conflict zone. Runway conditions at Srinagar were unknown. Enemy movements near the area were unclear. Yet the plan had to proceed. Any delay — even an hour — could allow the tribal spearheads to reach the airfield and cut off the Valley forever.

Dawn at Badgam: The first Dakotas descend into uncertainty

At 8 am on October 27, the first Dakota carrying elements of 1 Sikh swept over the Kashmir Valley. The pilots had no confirmation that the runway was secure. Tribals could have been waiting at its edges with rifles or machine guns. There was no guarantee that the airfield staff had remained at their posts. Every approach to the runway meant exposure to fire.

But as the Dakotas banked for landing, it became clear that the airfield was still intact — unguarded, shaken, but not yet overrun.

Within minutes, the first wave of Sikhs disembarked and fanned out across the tarmac. Their mission was to seize the perimeter, secure the control tower and prepare defences against any sudden attack. More aircraft followed in rapid succession. By noon, multiple companies had been landed, along with ammunition and light equipment.

Lt. Col. Rai immediately pushed out reconnaissance patrols, aiming to create a buffer around the airfield before the lashkar could reorganise after Baramulla. Every minute counted. Srinagar city, still gripped by fear, looked to the airfield as its lifeline.

The advance toward Baramulla: Buying the Valley precious time

Understanding that a purely defensive posture would invite disaster, Rai took a bold decision. With barely a battalion on the ground, he pushed forward toward Baramulla to disrupt enemy momentum. His objective was not to clear the town — a task far beyond his small force — but to delay, confuse and force the lashkar to halt its advance.

Rai’s decision embodied the finest traditions of aggressive defence. He knew that allowing the invaders an unopposed approach to Srinagar would overwhelm his thinly held perimeter. By driving forward, he aimed to seize the psychological initiative — to make the enemy hesitate, rethink, reorganise.

For the lashkar, the sudden appearance of regular troops was a shock. Until then, they had faced little disciplined resistance. Their advance had been slowed more by plunder than opposition. But now, for the first time, they encountered well-armed, cohesive infantry.

This pause proved critical. It created a window for more Indian troops to arrive through the day — including units of 4 Kumaon and additional Sikh companies. The fragile airbridge, once opened, allowed continuous reinforcement.

Holding the airfield: The knife-edge hours of the first night

As night fell on 27 October, Indian forces braced for a counterattack. Patrols reported enemy concentrations at Pattan and along the Baramulla road. At any moment, hundreds of tribal fighters could mass and rush the airfield, hoping to seize it before Indian forces consolidated.

But the tribal lashkars, tired after days of fighting and distracted by the loot of Baramulla, failed to mount a coordinated night assault. Their delay bought India one more irreplaceable night — a night in which more troops landed, defensive arcs were improved, and Srinagar city regained confidence that help had arrived.

Without this fragile foothold, the battles of Badgam, Shalateng and the eventual recapture of Uri could never have occurred.

Badgam and beyond: How the airlanding shaped the coming battles

The success of the airlanding shaped every subsequent decision. As more battalions arrived, Indian commanders sought to extend their defensive envelope around Srinagar. This led to the Battle of Badgam (3 November), where 4 Kumaon’s heroic stand under Maj. Somnath Sharma delayed the tribal thrust long enough for reinforcements to stabilise the line.

Badgam hardened Indian resolve. It gave commanders clarity about the enemy’s strengths — speed, numbers, zeal — and weaknesses — indiscipline, fragmentation, lack of communication. These lessons informed the planning of the counterattack at Shalateng, where armour, infantry and deception combined to crush the lashkar’s offensive capability. That victory, described in your attached Shalateng account , was only possible because the airfield had been held and reinforced in time.

Thus, the airlanding was not just the first operation of the war — it was the keystone on which the entire defence of Kashmir rested.

Strategic significance: Why 27 October changed the war

The airlanding altered the strategic landscape in multiple ways:

It prevented the fall of Srinagar.
Had the tribal lashkars reached the airfield before 1 Sikh, the city would have fallen within hours. No further Indian troops could have entered the Valley.

It secured the only lifeline into Kashmir.
Until the land route via Jammu was stabilised weeks later, every soldier, every weapon, every box of ammunition came through the air.

It gave India the initiative.
Instead of reacting to events, Indian forces could begin shaping operations — from perimeter defence to reconnaissance, then to counteroffensives.

It broke the psychological momentum of the invaders.
The arrival of disciplined, motivated Sikh troops shattered the illusion of an inevitable tribal victory.

It ensured that the accession of Kashmir had military substance.
Without troops on the ground, the Instrument of Accession would have remained only a piece of paper.

The legacy of the airlanding: A moment that decided the fate of Kashmir

By the time Indian forces marched into Baramulla in early November, the airlanding at Srinagar had already entered military lore. It was the operation that saved a state, secured a frontier and altered the map of South Asia permanently.

Its legacy endures because it demonstrated that bold decisions taken under pressure can change history, that speed can be as powerful a weapon as firepower, and that a handful of men, landing on an unsecured runway at dawn, can shift the balance of a war

Every milestone that followed — Shalateng, Uri, Poonch, Zoji La — stands on the foundations laid on the morning of 27 October 1947.

The Dakotas that skimmed over the Valley that day were not just aircraft; they were the lifeline of a nation that had decided to defend its frontiers at the moment of birth. Their landing ensured that the story of Kashmir would not be written by those advancing from Baramulla, but by the men who stepped onto the tarmac of Srinagar airfield with rifles, determination and orders to hold the Valley at any cost.