Now that Wing Commander Abhinandan is back, safe and alive, thousands of Indians wonder if the hero pilot will ever fly again? In case you're wondering too, no -- it isn't a simple or straightforward answer. Read more to find out

by Shiv Aroor

The entire nation hopes that Wing Commander Abhinandan Varthaman will take to the skies again.

When he pulled the chord on his Zvezda KM-1 ejection seat on the morning of February 27 high above the Sunderbani sector of the Line of Control, Wing Commander Abhinandan set off a sequence of events that would lead to his capture by the Pakistan military some minutes later. The pulling of the chord first detonated an explosive charge that lined the frame of the MiG-21's canopy, bursting it clean off the jet, transforming the Soviet-era jet for a few lively moments into an airborne convertible. Seconds later, a set of rockets built into the seat fired, exploding the young pilot out of the cockpit at crushing speed -- fast enough so he wouldn't be torn apart by the aircraft's tail fin. Once clear from the aircraft, the seat detached from Abhinandan, spinning away below him. Above him, a parachute quickly deployed, quickly breaking his descent and bringing him gently down into hostile territory.

What happened next is stuff that captivated India for over 48 hours.

But now that Abhinandan is back, safe and alive, thousands of Indians wonder if the hero pilot will ever fly again? In case you're wondering too, no -- it isn't a simple or straightforward answer. As Abhinandan undergoes medical tests at the Army hospital in Delhi, reports suggest that the pilot has a lower spinal injury and a rib crack. Neither of these is surprising. One in three pilots who eject from a fighter cockpit suffer a compression fracture in the spine, an inevitable result of the abrupt and explosive force with which they are cannon-balled from the cockpit, often with forces of about 25-30G. For comparison, pilots in fighters usually experience no more than 9G in extreme combat manoeuvres.

The rib crack could either be from injuries sustained on the ground or possible from his posture during the ejection. Broken limbs, ribs or soft tissue injuries are not remotely uncommon in ejections. Abhinandan also sustained abrasions in several parts of his body. Again, these aren't uncommon -- the violent air blast that hits pilots when they're thrown from the cockpit can cause superficial injuries very much like burns.

As a nation sat transfixed by his capture, nearly everyone noticed how Abhinandan stood ram-rod straight during his return across the Wagah-Attari border last week. It wasn't immediately apparent that he had suffered injuries that including the one to his spine, which would normally be excruciating. Reports have also suggested that his Pakistani captors harassed him by subjecting him to sleep deprivation, though there is no evidence of violent torture of any kind. Whether or Wing Commander Abhinandan will fly a fighter again depends on the seriousness of his injuries and whether he can be treated.

While a second ejection from a fighter could have even more harmful effects on a pilot who has already borne the violent stress once, flying fighters again after ejection isn't uncommon at all. The IAF has even had pilots who've ejected twice. IAF pilot Wing Commander Sidharth Munje, now an airline pilot, was forced to eject on two occasions five years apart, both times from Su-30MKI jets.

In 2012, the IAF's then Air Officer-In-Charge of Personnel (AOP), the 59-year-old Air Marshal Anil Chopra ejected from a doomed Mirage 2000 over Chambal in Madhya Pradesh, making him one of the oldest persons to eject from a fighter. Writing about the experience, Air Marshal Chopra, since retired, says, "To pull the ejection handle is a difficult decision. The comfort and safety of the cockpit have taken many a crew into the ground. To eject at a very ripe age of 59 years plus has its own dynamics. The spine and neck are the most vulnerable. My full attention was on taking a posture to save these two very vital parts of an ageing man's body. The entire sequence from the pull of the handle to the opening of the main parachute took exactly 2.6 seconds. In physical reality, it is a timeline that appears never to end. I last remember having seen the front canopy cartridge fire to crack open the glass. Thereafter a rocket went off under my seat, instantly blacking me out. As the seat came out of the aircraft, a blast of air hit me. In this blacked out state, I could feel a tossing motion with considerable forces acting on my body. I could hear the sequential firing of a large number of cartridges/rockets. I could see stars flashing in the dark of my eyes. Then all of a sudden it was all quiet."

As a defence journalist, I've had the opportunity and privilege to fly on six occasions in fighter jets. Starting in 2007, I've flown back-seat sorties in a Boeing F/A-18 Super Hornet, Russian MiG-35, F-16 Desert Falcon, SAAB Gripen D, Dassault Rafale and, most recently, an Indian Light Combat Aircraft Tejas at the Aero India 2019 show. On each of these occasions, pre-flight procedures mandatorily include an extended brief on ejection procedures. Unlike on civil flights, where cabin staff soften the possibility of emergencies by prefacing them with words like 'in the unlikely event of...', on my fighter flights, instructions for ejections were always provided with the grim assurance that it could be a no-nonsense possibility. Every pilot I flew with took me through the process of arming my seat, one of them advising me with deadpan sincerity that I should pull the ejection handle only when I hear him shout 'Eject! Eject! Eject!' or if I am absolutely certain that he (the pilot) has died in his seat or is in some way incapacitated.

I'm glad I've never had to eject. But if I ever do, I'll never forget the checklist. And having spent a career interacting with fighter pilots and flying with them, I know that Abhinandan would want nothing more than to be declared fit to fly again.