The Prisoner in the Mountains

India last week heard for the first time the full story of Constable Karam Singh. A stocky, moon-faced Sikh with a curly black mustache, Karam Singh. 49, was the commander of the Indian police patrol in Ladakh that was ambushed and cut to pieces by the Chinese last October (TIME, Nov. 2). Captured, Singh was treated with a mixture of brutality, buffoonery, cynicism and dishonesty, which indicates that Chinese methods with their prisoners have varied little since the Korean war.

After a skirmish of several hours in which nine Indians died, Karam Singh and eight other policemen surrendered. Disarmed and searched, the Indians were ordered to carry the body of the one Chinese soldier who had been killed, as well as a wounded Indian constable named Makhan Lai. After a short march, the Chinese guards insisted that Constable Lai be abandoned on a river bank. He has not been seen since.

Into the Pit. Six hours and several miles later, the party reached a Chinese command post at Konka La, more than 16,000 ft. above sea level. The prisoners were herded into a 6-by-7-by-15 ft. pit normally used for storing vegetables, and covered with a tarpaulin through which whistled the bone-cracking Himalayan wind. For food there was only dry bread; they were refused water or permission to leave the pit to relieve themselves.

Karam Singh's marathon interrogation began at 4 in the morning. He was asked to narrate the entire incident, but when he came to the point where the Chinese ambushers opened fire, the senior officer present "became wild and shouted back that it was incorrect, and that I must confess the Indians fired first." Singh at first refused. The Chinese threatened to shoot him, and "ultimately, they made me say that I could not judge at that time as to who fired first." After twelve hours of nearly continuous questioning, Karam Singh "was almost frozen and mentally and physically exhausted because of cold, persistent interrogation, intimidation, threats and angry shoutings, and the lack of sleep. In this condition. I was compelled to sign the statement recorded by the Chinese."

Allowed to sleep in an "unbearably" cold tent with insufficient blankets, Singh was awakened for another interrogation of 9 1/2 hours and told he would not get adequate shelter until the examination was concluded to Chinese satisfaction. With this stimulus to speed and agreement, Singh gave precise details of the arms, function and organization of India's border patrols, his own operations prior to the ambush, and the location of Indian check posts throughout Ladakh. As a reward, he got some padded cotton clothing, which did not fit. At this point the Chinese set out to rewrite history by re-enacting it to suit the Chinese version.

The Reenactment. A cameraman arrived at the outpost, and the prisoners were twice taken to the scene of the fight for propaganda films. Once, said Singh, "I was given a handkerchief and asked to wave it as if to give a signal to the men to open fire." The second time, the body of the Chinese soldier was used in the filmed sequence. Between making statements and signing them, the prisoners were taken from their pit into the sunlight, served watermelon, and lectured on "Sino-Indian friendship."

As the interrogations continued, Singh was persuaded to write that he had nothing but praise for the kind treatment and medical attention he had received, and to declare that he had been neither beaten nor coerced. On Nov. 6, the Indians were escorted to a river bank, ordered to sit sunning themselves or to stroll leisurely about while the Chinese cameraman filmed the idyllic scene to prove that they were not being mistreated. Then the Chinese returned to the questionings. That evening, while the Communists' movie camera turned, a doctor carefully dressed Singh's frostbitten feet and a tape recording was made as Singh answered questions as instructed.

At midafternoon on Nov. 13, the Indian prisoners were removed from the pit, lined up before the movie camera and smilingly handed small towels, candy and cigarettes. At dawn on the following day, after three weeks of captivity, they were piled into trucks and, together with the bodies of their fellow patrol members, driven to a rendezvous point and handed over to waiting Indian officials.

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