Few are legends in their own time, and this unassuming, straightforward forward officer, gentleman and pilot par excellence was certainly one. A natural flier and strategic thinker in the employment of air power, Pete was also blessed with the rare gifts of common and uncommon sense. Tall and fair, his hooded eyes seldom missed anything in the air or on the ground. His laconic speech was frequently laced with an understated sense of humour.
What added immeasurable lustre to his towering professional persona was his hallmark Anglo-Indian probity, intellectual honesty, fierce integrity, exemplary rectitude and a simple, spartan lifestyle. He had this most desirable quality we used to hear: being kind without being soft, strict without being tyrannical, firm without being dogmatic and frank without being abrasive—a most desirable & template mix of virtues for a military Commander & a leader.
These reflections are offered by some of the Indian Air Force’s stalwarts in describing Air Commodore Peter Maynard Wilson, PVSM, VrC, affectionately known as “Pete” Wilson. Renowned as a paragon of military virtue, Pete epitomised the quintessence of an exemplary officer. In exploring Pete Wilson’s life and legacy, we revisit the storied path of one of post-independence India’s most revered military leaders and engage in a masterclass in leadership, courage, and the pursuit of excellence.
Personal Life and Background
Pete Wilson’s grandfather, Andrew Joseph Keens, was originally from London but embarked on a new life on October 24, 1902, travelling to Ceylon under the alias H J Wilson. Listed as a labourer, he was accompanied by his wife with their young son, Irving Gordon, Pete’s father, who was about 11 years old at the time. The family’s move was a stepping stone that led Irving to complete his education at St. Joseph’s School in Bangalore. Born to Irving and May on November 29, 1927, in Bombay, Pete experienced the loss of his father at just seven years old. Consequently, he spent much of his formative years within the structured confines of boarding schools.
Pete’s educational journey began at St. Peter’s High School in Panchgani, where he completed his Senior Cambridge examinations. Even in his youth, Pete displayed a genuine passion for aviation, cheekily attempting to enlist in the Air Force by fibbing his age. The recruitment officers, amused by his enthusiasm yet recognising his youth, advised him to ‘grow up.’ Unfazed, Pete moved to Lawrence Memorial at Ghora Gali, Murree and completed his intermediate Science. This school held a special place in Pete’s heart and later featured prominently in his fond recollections.
Returning to Mumbai, Pete initially worked as a mechanic in the Bombay Electric Supply and Transport (BEST) garages. His determination to pursue an aviation career never waned, and his persistence eventually led to his acceptance into the Indian Air Force in 1946.
Shining in training
Pete Wilson’s aviation journey commenced in October 1946 as a Flight Cadet at the serene ground training establishment of the Indian Air Force at Coimbatore with the 47th Pilot Course. The violent birth pangs of two nations would stretch his training across three tumultuous years, a period that saw many of his peers don the wings of the newly-minted Royal Pakistan Air Force. Yet, even as the subcontinent fractured, Wilson’s resolve hardened.
The young Pete initially contemplated joining the RPAF, frustrated by lack of flying. However, recognising the potential for even greater disorder there than what they knew of the RIAF, he decided to remain with the Indian forces. Pete’s first solo flight took place in August 1947, a mere fortnight after he began flying, showcasing his natural aptitude with just four hours of training.
From the beginning, Wilson distinguished himself as an exceptional cadet. His tenure at the Elementary Flying Training School in RIAF Jodhpur was marked by exemplary performance in both the practical and theoretical aspects of his training. Piloting Tiger Moths, Pete’s dedication and skill won him top honours as the Best in Flying and Ground Subjects. His achievements during this period were further celebrated with numerous awards, including the esteemed Patiala Trophy, which the Maharaja of Jodhpur personally awarded.
Wilson’s ascent continued at the Advanced Flying School in RIAF Ambala, where he mastered more complex aircraft, including the iconic Spitfire. His outstanding performance culminated in the award of the Sword of Honour, marking him as the cream of his class. By the time of his commissioning, Wilson had amassed an impressive array of accolades: Best in Forced Landings, Best in Aerobatics, Best in Ground Subjects, Best Progress, Best in Air Gunnery, The Patiala Trophy, The Majumdar Trophy, and ultimately, The Sword of Honour.
A Young Teacher
The young officer’s first squadron assignment with the No. 4 Squadron in Poona, flying Tempest aircraft, was a prelude to more significant challenges. In 1950, he was selected within the year for the prestigious Flying Instructors’ Course at the RAF’s Central Flying School in Little Rissington. He honed his skills there on various aircraft, including the Gloster Meteor, the RAF’s primary jet fighter.
For the next six years, Wilson dedicated himself to shaping the future of the Indian Air Force through instruction. His tenure was split between the academies in Ambala and Begumpet for three years, followed by another three at the Conversion Training Unit in Hakimpet. At Hakimpet, Wilson specialised in transitioning novice fighter pilots to the Vampire aircraft.
During this period, Pete was also chosen to pilot the Moraine-Saulnier Fleuret, a French jet trainer brought to the academy to evaluate the concept of through-jet training. Pete’s prowess was so notable that he once demonstrated the Fleuret’s endurance to such an extent that even the French were reportedly astonished by the duration he managed to keep it airborne.
His unique blend of rigorous standards and compassionate leadership set Wilson apart as an instructor. This balance is beautifully illustrated in an anecdote shared by Group Captain Ahluwalia, one of Wilson’s former cadets. During a Solo Party Night at the officers’ mess, where non-drinking pilots were traditionally pressured to consume alcohol, Ahluwalia was at odds with the commanding officer. As Ahluwalia was about to be compelled to drink, Wilson intervened decisively. He pulled his pupil away from the bar, asserting Ahluwalia’s right to abstain. This act protected a junior officer and underscored Wilson’s willingness to stand up to authority when principles were at stake.
Wilson’s commitment to nurturing young talent extended well beyond his years as an instructor. Air Commodore Ramesh Phadke recounts a telling incident when Wilson was a station commander. Phadke and another junior officer were unexpectedly summoned to join Wilson in his staff car one morning. Initially apprehensive, expecting a reprimand, they were treated to an impromptu masterclass in aviation. Wilson drove them to the runway’s start and conducted a hands-on lesson, teaching them how to analyse tyre marks to differentiate between good and heavy landings. He also explained runway characteristics thoroughly before instructing them to share this knowledge with their peers. This episode exemplifies Wilson’s approach to mentorship. Rather than maintaining a distant, authoritarian stance typical of many senior officers, he took a direct, personal interest in developing young officers’ skills and understanding.
Canberra Strikes
Pete Wilson initially harboured ambitions to become a test pilot, but fate had other plans. By 1957, Wilson was selected to spearhead the adoption of the English Electric Canberra, a bomber-interdictor aircraft that demanded a pilot of his calibre for its sophisticated operational requirements.
Between February 22nd and May 28th, 1957, Wilson was part of the first cohort of IAF pilots to undergo conversion training at 231 O.C.U. Bassingbourn, RAF. His exceptional skill and performance during this period set him apart. They earned him the distinction of being the only pilot ever rated as “Exceptional,” an honour commemorated with a trophy acknowledging his unparalleled proficiency.
Upon his return to India, Wilson was stationed with No. 5 Squadron in Agra. His promotion to Squadron Leader in 1961 marked the beginning of his tenure as flight commander, a role he executed with characteristic diligence and innovative leadership until early 1964. Another significant chapter in Wilson’s career was his deployment with the United Nations Operation in the Congo (ONUC). As Flight Commander of No. 5 Squadron, he played a crucial role in the second IAF contingent. Taking over in early 1962, his team built upon the foundational efforts of the preceding contingent. Despite the established groundwork, Wilson’s tenure in the Congo was filled with rigorous and demanding assignments.
Wilson’s leadership was instrumental during extensive reconnaissance missions that included thorough road and airfield surveillance and targeted photo reconnaissance over the rebel stronghold of Kolwezi. These operations were fraught with challenges posed by rugged terrain, unpredictable weather, and the lack of reliable navigation maps, testing the mettle of his squadron.
One notable operation under Wilson’s command involved providing aerial cover for a UN helicopter rescue mission. This mission was initiated after the downing of a Swedish Curtiss C-46 Commando. Displaying his usual quick thinking and calm under pressure, Wilson skilfully executed several low-altitude passes to prevent unidentified individuals from approaching the rescue scene, ensuring the operation’s success without escalation.
1965 War
The crucible of war would soon test Wilson’s mettle. As tensions between India and Pakistan escalated into full-scale conflict in 1965, Wing Commander Pete Wilson found himself at the helm of No. 16 Squadron. The war would provide the stage for Wilson to demonstrate his flying prowess, tactical understanding, and leadership under fire.
The inaugural mission under his command was a challenging night-time operation against the Chittagong airfield in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh). Despite the adverse conditions of darkness and monsoon rains, Wilson led a two-aircraft strike that executed three precise runs over the target, successfully disabling the runway intersection.
On September 16, the stakes were higher when Wilson commanded a formation of five aircraft targeting the strategic location of Sargodha. This mission was fraught with danger, notably involving a close encounter with a Pakistani Starfighter. Wilson’s adept manoeuvring ensured his and his crew’s safe return.
The zenith of Wilson’s command was the critical raid on the Pakistani Radar Unit at Badin, a linchpin in Pakistan’s air defence network. The mission’s urgency was heightened following a provocative incident on September 19, 1965, when a PAF Sabre jet shot down an Indian civilian aircraft within Indian airspace, killing several, including the Chief Minister of Gujarat. This aggressive act traced back to Badin highlighted the facility’s significant threat.
Wilson crafted a cunning assault strategy that blended high-altitude bombing with a daring low-altitude rocket attack. On September 21, he led six aircraft from Agra, with one serving as a decoy at 10,000 feet to distract enemy defences, allowing the other five to engage the target from lower altitudes. Despite some challenges with bomb accuracy, the coordinated assault proved successful.
Wilson personally led the daring final approach, launching rockets at the radar installations. Despite a malfunction in one of the rocket pods, his attack devastatingly crippled the facility. Despite the operation’s success, Wilson’s humility in the face of success was as remarkable as his achievements. He never sought recognition for his actions, and it was, ironically, Pakistan Radio’s broadcast of the raid details that led to Wilson being awarded the Vir Chakra. This commendation, humorously credited as having been “penned by the adversary,” was a fitting tribute to Wilson’s impact on the conflict.
In recognition of his bravery, Indian Railways has installed a memorial plaque at Wathar Railway Station on the Pune-Miraj sector, briefly narrating his heroic actions during the 1965 conflict. Wilson’s tenure as commander of No. 16 Squadron marked a distinguished decade of piloting the Canberra, establishing him as an unrivalled expert on the aircraft. It was often said, “What Pete Wilson doesn’t know about Canberras is not worth knowing,” a statement that aptly encapsulates his profound mastery and enduring legacy.
The 1965 war also showcased Wilson’s analytical skills and foresight. Following a meticulously orchestrated attack by PAF Sabres on the Kalaikunda base, Wilson stood calmly on the ATC building terrace, providing a detailed commentary on the enemy’s tactics. His precise prediction of a second raid, based on quick calculations of the Sabres’ transit and turnaround times, demonstrated a level of situational awareness and tactical understanding that set him apart from his peers.
Previously, Pete Wilson had anticipated the likelihood of such a raid and had attempted to persuade the station commander to implement necessary defensive measures. Although his warnings had not been heeded then, the insights gained from this experience would later prove invaluable in 1971. Pete would later say – “The 1965 War was a watershed for the Indian Air Force, But the 1971 War was bad news to the Pakistani Air Force.”
The master of Low-level flying
Pete Wilson’s IAF contemporaries often spoke of his legendary low-flying exploits. Notably, it was Pete who, flying a Canberra at a mere 30 feet above ground, successfully destroyed the Badin Radar—an episode that epitomised his audacious flying style. Pete’s reputation for low-flying was often accompanied by his record number of bird strikes in the IAF. Wilson’s wry comment on this statistic – “You have to fly low to hit a bird in the air. I also happen to have the maximum low-flying hours in the Air Force,” – encapsulated his blend of skill, daring, and dry humour.
His son, Mark, shares a memorable incident that underscores Pete’s experiences at low altitudes. On a moonlit night, while flying under 500 feet, Pete felt an impact against his aircraft. After a cautious ascent and ensuring the aircraft’s stability, he returned to base and asked the crew chief to inspect for damage. The investigation in the hangar revealed a surprising culprit: a hole in the aircraft’s leading edge, filled with fur and remnants. It turned out Pete had collided with potentially a monkey. In a typical light-hearted manner, Pete joked about it as a “leaping monkey that committed suicide by jumping out of a very tall tree,”.
This anecdote echoes another incident from the ’60s, when Pete, then officiating as Station Commander in Agra, was involved in a lengthy official inquiry over Canberra’s bird strike piloted by someone else. After days of deliberation and piles of paperwork, Pete’s succinct and pithy summary dismissed the excessive bureaucracy: “A simple case of unavoidable bird hit, avoidably complicated by a Court of Inquiry.”
These daring low-flying manoeuvres were not just for show but a vital tactical necessity. In an era when radar detection and agile fighters posed significant threats, the only way for the large Canberra to evade detection was to hug the earth. Air Marshal GCS Rajwar credited Wilson with pioneering and perfecting the art of low-level navigation in the IAF. Wilson’s rigorous training of Canberra crews in low-altitude flying, both day and night, significantly enhanced their operational efficacy during the wars of 1965 and 1971. His innovative tactics and training methods established him as the father of low-level navigation within the IAF, contributing vitally to the success of numerous critical missions.
Jamnagar
In April 1968, Pete Wilson took command of Jamnagar Airbase, a pivotal centre for fighter pilot training in India, known for its Indian Top Gun School and the Hunter Conversion Squadron. Despite his extensive background in bombers, Wilson’s deep familiarity with the Hunter aircraft soon quelled any initial reservations about his appointment.
Wilson’s understanding of aircraft capabilities were already legendary. Years earlier, a rivalry between the Hunter and the Canberra performance sparked a bold challenge for Wilson. Confident in his mastery, he wagered that the Hunters couldn’t manage a successful shot at his Canberra. On a crisp winter morning, as two Hunters piloted by two fighter combat leader aces took to the skies to intercept him, a large crowd watched from the tarmac. Wilson expertly manipulated altitude and speed, making it impossible for the Hunters to align their cameras for a shot, much to the amazement of the onlookers.
Wilson’s prowess was further tested in the mid-1960s at Kalaikunda during a night interception exercise to evaluate the Hunter’s capabilities. The exercise seemed promising as LaFontaine and Kacker, guided by radar, spotted the orange glow of the Canberra’s engines in the dark. However, Wilson reduced his engine’s RPM to the minimum sustainable level, causing the engine glow to vanish into the darkness. La Fontaine and Kacker watched in disbelief as the glow from the jet pipe died out, leaving them to face the pitch-black night. LaFontaine ruefully remarked, “Our ego was in our boots”.
Wilson’s expertise with the Hunter was further evidenced during his tenure at Jamnagar, where even AVM Cecil Parker, commanding the Hunter squadron, remarked on Wilson’s rapid proficiency with the aircraft, which surpassed that of experienced instructors. Wilson’s ability to adapt and excel was a testament to his lifelong dedication to aviation.
In the 1971 Indo-Pak War, as Station Commander, Wilson foresaw the potential for Pakistani air raids. Anticipating these, he masterminded a deceptive strategy that involved creating a simulated airfield at the nearby Sarmat Range. This decoy, meticulously mimicking Jamnagar’s runway and flare paths successfully drew enemy bombers away from the actual base. Wilson also set up additional deceptive measures by placing circles of ground glass and mirrors at runway intersections and even made Bhuj Airbase a secondary decoy. These measures disoriented enemy pilots and protected the main base at Jamnagar.
Despite his decoys’ strategic success, Wilson grappled with the moral implications of his tactics, particularly the risks they posed to enemy pilots—risks he had experienced as a combat pilot. This ethical consideration added a complex layer to his wartime leadership, blending military cunning with a deep sense of humanity.
On December 17, 1971, Wilson undertook his final combat mission, marking him the one of the oldest pilots, at 44, to engage in operational sorties during the war in a Hunter. His leadership and innovative strategies during his tenure at Jamnagar safeguarded the base and earned him the Param Vishisht Seva Medal (PVSM), cementing his legacy as a visionary tactician. Affectionately nicknamed “Sudden” by younger pilots, Wilson’s quick reflexes and decisive actions mirrored the legendary attributes of his namesake, the fictional gunslinger cowboy.
Retirement and the United Kingdom
Wilson’s career trajectory seemed set for even greater heights as he was selected to attend the National Defence College (NDC) in 1972, a stepping stone to higher command roles. Upon completion, he was promoted to Air Commodore and entrusted with critical roles, including Air-1 at Western Air Command and Director of Air Defence at Air Headquarters.
However, the political climate of the mid-1970s cast a shadow over Wilson’s illustrious career. The increasingly authoritarian atmosphere led to scrutiny of his allegiance despite his unwavering loyalty to the IAF and India. Faced with veiled threats involving his sons, Wilson prioritised his family’s safety.
In 1975, Wilson sent his children to the UK in a series of heart-wrenching moves. By April 1976, with his family safely abroad, Wilson resigned his commission from the IAF. His departure from India was fraught with bureaucratic challenges, mitigated only by the support of senior Air Headquarters officers who recognised his situation’s gravity.
Wilson and his wife immigrated to the UK with limited means and were permitted to leave India with only £10. The transition was stark and challenging. Despite his distinguished career in military aviation, Wilson found it nearly impossible to secure employment in his field. By the end of 1976, he had reluctantly accepted clerical work with Scotland Yard – a profound adjustment for a man accustomed to the adrenaline-fueled world of combat aviation.
Yet, even in this new role, Wilson approached his work with the same dignity and resolve that had characterised his military service. He remained in this position for the next two decades, ensuring his family’s financial stability and securing a pension. This period of Wilson’s life, while less glamorous than his military career, spoke volumes about his character – his ability to adapt, his commitment to duty, and his unwavering focus on providing for his family.
Legacy
Air Commodore Pete Wilson’s legacy in the Indian Air Force is multifaceted and enduring. His career was marked by remarkable versatility, having piloted an impressive array of sixteen aircraft across nearly five thousand hours. His exceptional skill as a pilot is indisputable and widely recognised.
Beyond his flying prowess, Wilson was celebrated for his exemplary leadership. Known for his steadfast support of his officers and men, Wilson embodied a deep sense of responsibility, always ready to accept accountability for any shortcomings within his command. He upheld the belief that the ultimate responsibility rested with the senior-most officer, a principle that defined his leadership ethos. Wilson’s legacy in the IAF is characterised by his innovative thinking, unwavering commitment to excellence, and remarkable ability to foster development among his peers and subordinates.
Yet, behind their achievements was a man grounded in simplicity, love and care. His son, Ian Wilson, offers a more personal view: “My father was much more than the sum of his parts. He was the most well-read person I have ever known, consuming almost a book daily. His profound love for my mother, his children, and his grandchildren was all-encompassing.” Another son, Mark Wilson, adds another layer to his father’s character: “Despite being honoured with Gallantry awards, my father was humbled by them. He often expressed discomfort with the accolades, mindful of the many colleagues who went unrecognised.”
Pete Wilson passed away on December 28, 2015, in London, Essex. Among his few regrets was not having the opportunity to lead another attack on Badin – a testament to the warrior spirit that never left him. Pete Wilson epitomised the quintessential qualities of an air warrior: a leader, a thinker, and a master aviator. His life serves as a beacon for aspiring officers, reminding us that greatness is not merely about achieving personal glory but uplifting those around us. In the contrails of his legacy, future generations of air warriors find a path to follow and a standard to aspire to – a reminder that there is always room to soar higher in the vast skies of duty and honour.
Pete returned to India for his final rest alongside his wife, Mildred. Their ashes were interred in the church’s front garden in Secunderabad, where they were married, bringing their journey back to where their life began.
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