Introduction: A Winter Morning in 1963
It was one of Air Marshal (retd) Brijesh Dhar Jayal’s 90 winters, but he remembers it as the best. The year was 1963. On a cold January morning at the Lugovaya Airbase in Kazakhstan (then part of the USSR), a young Jayal climbed the ladder to the cockpit of the MiG-21, his heart thudding with excitement.
Climbing into the cockpit, the air thick with the smell of new machinery, he was struck by everything—from the Cyrillic on every dial to the heavy, spacesuit-type Russian flight suit.
For the young pilot, one of a handful of Indians chosen to master a new supersonic jet, it was a profound moment. “It was the beginning of a lifelong bond,” he recalls. This is the story of that pioneering batch of Indian Air Force pilots and their journey to tame a legend.
1. The Chosen Few: A Mission to Master a Supersonic Jet
In the early 1960s, India was on the cusp of a major transformation in its air power. Following the 1962 war with China, India sought to rapidly modernize its air force, and the Soviet Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21 offered a potent, affordable solution when Western options were limited.
The IAF was set to induct this supersonic interceptor, a war machine the West feared most, which would become the backbone of its fleet for decades.
To prepare for this new era, a special group of eight IAF fighter pilots was selected for a pioneering mission: to travel to the Soviet Union and become the first Indians to train on this formidable aircraft.
This handpicked group gathered at the air headquarters in Delhi in October 1962 for final briefings before their departure. They were:
- Wing Commander Dilbagh Singh
- Squadron Leader MSD Wollen
- Squadron Leader S K Mehra
- Flight Lieutenant A K Mukherjee
- Flight Lieutenant H S Gill
- Flight Lieutenant A K Sen
- Flight Lieutenant D Keelor
- Flight Lieutenant Brijesh Dhar Jayal
Their journey would take them far from home, into an environment as challenging as the aircraft they were sent to master.
2. Journey into the Cold: Training in the Soviet Union
Upon arriving in the USSR, the pilots were met with a harsh winter, with temperatures regularly dropping to minus 20 degrees Celsius.
Their isolation was profound; completely cut off from the outside world, they had no access to English newspapers or literature. Their disconnection from home was so complete that they remained unaware of the Chinese aggression until their liaison officer casually mentioned it.
It was only after negotiations that they were given a radio, through which they could faintly tune into the only Indian station they could catch: AIR Jalandhar.
This stark isolation forced them to focus entirely on the monumental task ahead: learning to fly a machine unlike anything they had ever known.
3. Learning the Language of a Legend
The initial phase of their intensive four-month training was spent entirely on the ground, a test of patience and intellect. For the first six weeks, the pilots did not even lay eyes on the aircraft.
Their days were consumed by classroom study, learning the Russian language and the intricate systems of the MiG-21, as every dial and control in the cockpit was in Russian.
The difficulty of this immersive preparation was immense, as Jayal recalls:
“For the first six weeks, we didn’t even see the aircraft. We were immersed in learning Russian and studying the MiG’s systems in detail (all the dials were in Russian),” Jayal recalls. All radio communication was to be in Russian, too.
The Soviet instructors took their role with extreme seriousness. They were, as Jayal describes, "almost possessive about their machines."
Poor landings were met with open scorn. The pressure was on the Indian pilots to prove they were worthy of this cutting-edge technology.
4. Taming the Supersonic "Sports Car"
In the second week of December 1962, the Indian pilots finally caught their first glimpse of the MiG-21. Before they could fly the supersonic jet, their learning curve required them to train on the subsonic MiG-15 and MiG-17. Only after mastering these did they transition solo to the MiG-21.
The experience of flying the aircraft was exhilarating, a sentiment echoed by generations of IAF pilots who followed. Veterans describe it not just as a machine, but as an extension of the pilot's will—a fast, agile, and demanding thoroughbred.
| Veteran's Perspective | Description of the MiG-21 |
| Former IAF chief B S Dhanoa | The "darling of all the fighter pilots." |
| Air Commodore Randhir Pratap | "A beautiful aircraft... I rate it as a sports car." |
| Air Commodore Ashok Dhar | "The most lovable aircraft... The experience of handling it was unbelievable." |
| An Instructor's Warning | An "unforgiving aircraft" that "needs to be brought down hard and firm." |
As he thundered down the runway at 300kmph and soared into the sky, Jayal's first solo flight was a moment etched in memory. The Indian pilots adapted quickly to the powerful fighter, their skill and performance leaving their Russian instructors deeply impressed.
5. Bringing the Thunder Home
With their training complete, the pilots returned to India to establish the country's first supersonic squadron. The first MiG-21 jets arrived disassembled by ship in Mumbai, where they were assembled by Russian staff and test-flown by Russian pilots before being formally handed over to the IAF.
In 1963, Brijesh Dhar Jayal co-founded the IAF's first MiG-21 squadron, No. 28 Squadron, based in Chandigarh.
In a historic final leg of the journey, six of the newly trained IAF pilots flew these brand-new supersonic jets from Mumbai to their new home, making a stop in Agra before touching down in Chandigarh and officially heralding a new age for Indian air power.
6. Legacy of a Warrior: Beyond the "Flying Coffin"
Over its long service life, the MiG-21's reputation became complex. Due to a high number of crashes over six decades, it earned the darker nickname "flying coffin." However, the veterans who flew it fiercely defend its honor.
The aircraft's reputation was further complicated by its use in roles for which it was not designed. Delays in procuring a dedicated Advanced Jet Trainer meant that for years, newly commissioned pilots with only a few hundred hours of flying experience were transitioned directly to the demanding, high-speed MiG-21. This steep learning curve on an unforgiving aircraft contributed significantly to its high accident rate.
Air Marshal Jayal dismisses the term as fundamentally unfair and based on a misunderstanding of the context.
“It is utter nonsense and completely unfair,” he says. “We had more MiG-21 squadrons than any other type, so naturally they featured more in accident statistics. But combat flying is not like driving a car — you cannot expect zero accidents.”
For him and many others, its legacy is not one of tragedy, but of triumph and distinguished service. “It flew more, fought more, and served India with distinction," Jayal states firmly. "It was never a coffin, but a warrior. It never let us down in any war, any combat.”
Conclusion: The Sun Sets on an Era
After more than 60 years of service, the roar of the MiG-21 is fading from India's skies. The legendary aircraft is being phased out, its role as a frontline fighter taken over by the indigenously developed Tejas Mk1A jets. The retirement marks the end of a significant chapter in the history of the Indian Air Force.
For pioneers like Air Marshal Jayal, the farewell is poignant but necessary. “Like all good things, it must end. The design dates to the 1950s.
We have overused it, and technology has moved on. But in its time, it was cutting edge.” The lifelong bond forged in the cold Soviet winter of 1963 has come to a close, but the legacy of the warrior and the pilots who first tamed it will endure.
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