Women's wing leader, Thamilini. pic Alfred Silva

Inside story of female Tigers Since guns fell silent last December, in the battle areas of the North and East, this is where they face each other at very close quarters. Standing some 200 metres apart, with shallow patches of the Kilali lagoon in the middle, they keep watching one another through day and night.

Both sides are swamped with land mines. Occasionally they wave at each other. Otherwise, one wants to make sure the other does not enter their turf.
During yesteryears, that was a closer route to the Jaffna peninsula at Pooneryn, from mainland Sri Lanka. Traders waded through, knee deep, with their goods. Even livestock was guided across to the peninsula through this trade route.

Even a semblance of what remained changed in late 1991. By then, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), was running a "parallel administration" in the peninsula. Fears they would "invade" areas in the mainland across the Kilali lagoon, led to the setting up of an Army base with a Navy detachment in Pooneryn. During early 1994, it was to become a sore point that wrecked peace talks between People's Alliance and Tiger guerrillas. Whilst PA wanted Alpha Nine (A-9) highway re-opened, the LTTE sought a passage via Pooneryn, with military facilities there shut down.

In over three years of existence, the Pooneryn defence complex has been the scene of some pitched battles. On September 24, 1993, Security Forces launched "Operation Yal Devi" "to destroy boat landing points and allied facilities used by the LTTE in area Kilali." The weeklong operation left 108 soldiers dead. Ministry of Defence news releases claimed 350 guerrillas were killed but the LTTE said only 96 of its cadres died.

Six weeks later, Tiger guerrillas unleashed a devastating attack that was planned for many months. On November 11, 1993, they launched "Operation Thavalai," (frog), an amphibious assault on the Pooneryn defence complex. The official death toll, from a strength of over 55 officers and more than 2100 men, dead or missing in action, was over 620. The Army said over 500 guerrillas died but the LTTE said it was only over a 100.

Following a counter offensive, the defence complex was re-established in a smaller area and supplied only by air. It was, however, shut down in early 1995, when military planners began preparations for the re-capture of Jaffna peninsula, through a string of offensives code named "Operation Riviresa." It concluded on December 5, 1995, with the re-capture of most of the peninsula by the Security Forces.

Today, vast areas in Pooneryn facing the Jaffna peninsula and the Sangupitty causeway, show very little signs of human activity. What was once the Security Forces complex lay in ruins. Remains of wrecked coaches, scattered empty artillery shells and crumbled buildings stand testimony. Palmyrah trees or shrub jungle dots vast stretches of open land.

Those present are guerrillas riding push cycles or walking long distances for duty in positions assigned to them. A handful of bare bodied fishermen wade through knee high in the lagoon, avoiding deep stretches, to tend to nets stuck on poles. Besides small fish, lobsters and prawns abound in the area where fishing has resumed only after the truce.

The journey to Pooneryn and along the Sangupitty ferry from Kilinochchi via Paranthan, though nearly 50 kilometres, takes two hours. The terrain becomes tougher as we travel. The first sights of villages with farmers tending to their garden or the sounds of tractors, loaded with produce or passengers fade, as we are some 15 kilometres away from Sangupitty ferry.

Besides Daya Master, who is escorting Cameraman Alfred Silva and me, a military wing leader for the area has been assigned to travel with us. I am told of the reason - the treacherous terrain, which still has vast areas planted with land mines. The guerrillas had placed it. That was to stall a Security Forces thrust from Jaffna across the Kilali lagoon. He prefers to remain anonymous and asks me not to refer even to his nom de guerre. I agree.

Clearing land mines in Pooneryn is low priority. Even along Alpha Nine (A-9) highway, clearing is still in progress in some areas. Boards warn of explosives. They exhort travellers not to venture outside the road area.

Pausing between conversations, he asks whether I do not have any audiocassette tapes. I tell him there are a few, in Sinhala and in English. He prefers to switch on the radio. He scans up and down for his favourite channel, the Tamil Commercial Service of the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation. To the accompaniment of Tamil songs or comedy skits, he guides me through the rutty road. If land mine explosions have caused bad damage, huge craters left by bombs dropped from air by the Sri Lanka Air Force are evident in many places. The causeway that leads to the Sangupitty ferry, huge craters interrupt the contiguity of the surface.

Even in the most remote areas of the Wanni, like in other crowded parts, one comes to grips with a strong reality - no movement in the guerrilla dominated Wanni is possible without one's presence being noticed by guerrilla cadres. In the virtually desolate areas of Pooneryn, a young man stands by a parked scooter. He appears to be admiring the scenery. As our Double Cab passes, he takes note and readies to stop us. He sees the military wing cadre in the front seat. We are waved off. I see a walkie-talkie in the carrying case of the scooter. Even at some of the inter sections, we are noticed but soon recognised.

This is the case in crowded areas too. On a journey to Puthukudiyiruppu, I saw a cadre seated outside a kiosk kick-start a motorcycle and pursue us. He overtook our vehicle to do a u-turn to come at us. He waved at Daya Master upon identifying him. When Alfred Silva photographed the abandoned petrol station at Paranthan junction, a guerrilla emerged from a small boutique to check his identity.

I soon learn the reason for this new form of widespread surveillance on "visitors" or "strangers." That was one of the measures the LTTE had adopted to counter intrusions by the Army's deadly Long Range Reconnaissance Patrols (LRRPs) that penetrated guerrilla held areas to carry out assassinations and attacks. To the guerrillas, there was public confirmation of what they had suspected for many months about deep penetration units. That came when the Kandy Police raided the Army's "Safe House" at Athurugiriya, a rear base used by LRRP teams operated by the Directorate of Military Intelligence (DMI).

Though it cleared the air considerably, Interior Minister, John Ameratunga's assertion that the "Safe House" was used for "legitimate purposes" and he accepted the "Army's explanation" came too late. Yet, Mr. Ameratunga's declaration in an interview with The Sunday Times drew a warm note of appreciation from Army Headquarters. Though belatedly, he had still set the record right.

It is not only male cadres who are deployed in these tasks. Playing an equal role are women, who have become a substantial segment of the LTTE's fighting cadres. Many have seen action in Pooneryn battles and bear the scars of war.

One such women cadre is Thamilini, who now heads the Women's Unit of the LTTE Political Wing. She is still a front liner in the military wing and has had many a narrow escape in battles with the Security Forces. She recalls her role in "Operation Thavalai" (frog), the November 11, 1993, sea and land assault on the Pooneryn Military complex.

"Whilst making preparations for the attack on the Pooneryn base, we planned to capture a Main Battle Tank. A Unit was specially trained for this purpose. I was in a group of female cadres tasked to clear a path through which the tank could be driven into our area," says Thamilini. Asked why special efforts were made to seize a battle tank, she says "our children were quite frightened when they heard the roar of engines of a battle tank. They could not study. We thought the best way to overcome this would be to capture one." The LTTE did seize the Czech built tank. It has been used in many an encounter.

Thamilini says she took part in the guerrilla counter offensive against "Operation Agni Khiela," (Rod of Fire) the last major military offensive during "Eelam War Three." Its aim was to capture Pallai, a forerunner to regain control of Elephant Pass. She says 35 of her male and female colleagues died during this offensive. "The fall of Pallai and Elephant Pass would have made Kilinochchi vulnerable. We had to resist it at all costs," she points out.

Earlier, she had also taken part in the LTTE's counter offensives against "Operation Jaya Sikurui," the military's costliest ever offensive to establish a land based Main Supply Route to Jaffna. This was by capturing a stretch of Alpha Nine (A-9) highway which was under LTTE control between Nochchimodai (Vavuniya) and Kilinochchi. The near three-year long offensive led to the deaths of over 3,500 soldiers and had to be abandoned.

Thamilini says she and a group of women cadres were trapped in the jungles of Mankulam without food. They survived on wild fruits. Her colleague, Nilambari, who was in a forward area, was guiding a group to launch mortar attacks on Security Forces targets. Later, she had fired at a large group of soldiers, killing them with a Light Machine Gun. An Army Special Forces team moved in from behind and surrounded them. They shot Nilambari dead. We were nearby but managed to escape, she says. She says that the LTTE Women's Wing began as "Suthantira Paravaikal" (Freedom Birds) specialising in first aid, running Montessori schools and indulging in other chores. Since late 1983, women cadres, Thamilini says, were trained in LTTE training camps that existed in the Southern Indian State of Tamil Nadu. They were later given military training.

The first military engagement for women cadres, according to Thamilni came, when guerrillas fought the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF). Malathi, the first women cadre, died in gun battles with Indian troops and a fighting unit has been named in her memory. Other fighting units include Sothiya, Anbarasi, Ponn Amman, Kuttisri Mortar Unit, Kittu Artillery Unit and Mines Unit.

Asked what the role of women cadres during the truce, she says "we engage in educational and social programmes. We are working hard to reduce the problems of society." Thamilini says since October 10, 1987, when Malathie died, over 5000 female cadres have been killed in battles with Security Forces. Asked what the strength of LTTE's women cadres, she said at the beginning there were only 90. "We now have more than 10,000 cadres in various spheres," she claimed. However, The Sunday Times learnt that fighting women cadres constituted only over 3,500.
In the 19 year long separatist war, the LTTE had inducted women into battle long before the Sri Lanka Army raised its Women's Corps. Their foray into the war as fighting units came only during "Eelam War Three."

With a truce now in place, women cadres, both in uniform and civvies are busy in the Wanni. Those on regular chores at check-points, street intersections and other areas without uniforms are easily identifiable - they wear a two inch belt around their waist, much like those in uniform. All cadres are trained to ride motorcycles. "Like serving the public to improve their quality of life, we are also ready for battle for "our freedom," says Thamilini as she kick starts her motorcycle to return to camp.