6-0 DOGFIGHT ( Pakistan Air Force Vs Indian Air Force )

May 7, 2025 – Dawn of the Skies

The sun had barely risen over the snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas when the first roars of jet engines pierced the morning calm. From the Indian Air Force’s forward bases, squadrons of Rafales and Su-30MKIs screamed into the sky, their mission clear: strike deep into Pakistani territory, avenge the deadly Kashmir attack of April 22, and reassert control over the restive region.

Across the border, the Pakistan Air Force scrambled to meet the challenge. JF-17 Thunders rose like falcons, and the newer J-10C fighters, gleaming in the early light, banked sharply, their pilots ready to intercept.

The First Blow

At 07:10 hours, high over Azad Kashmir, the first radar blips converged. A pair of IAF Rafales locked onto their targets below — alleged militant camps in Pakistan’s Punjab. Missiles streaked downward, but even before the dust settled, Pakistani pilots were vectoring in.

Wing Commander Ali Shah, at the controls of a J-10C, radioed in: “Targets in sight. Engaging.”

A Rafale pilot’s voice crackled over Indian comms: “Missiles inbound! Defensive maneuvers!”

The first kill was claimed moments later. PAF controllers reported: “Rafale down. Splash one.” Indian denials followed swiftly, but Pakistani news channels aired images of what they claimed was the Rafale’s smoldering wreckage.

The Second Kill

Ten minutes later, a dogfight erupted above the Neelum Valley. A MiG-29 from the IAF’s 47th squadron jinked and turned, trying to outmaneuver an agile JF-17. But in the swirling melee, a Pakistani missile found its mark.

“Kill confirmed,” said the PAF’s Flight Lieutenant Asad Rahman, his voice steady. “MiG-29 down.” Across the border, India admitted the loss of the MiG-29 — the only kill they would concede publicly.

The Third Strike

The battle raged on. IAF’s Su-30MKIs, India’s pride in air dominance, swept in to reinforce the embattled Rafales. But according to PAF claims, a third aircraft fell to a well-timed J-10C missile volley.

“Target acquired. Fox three!” Shah called out.

An explosion in the sky. “Su-30 down,” the PAF’s war room reported.

Back in New Delhi, Indian officials called it “misinformation.” But in Pakistani cities, fireworks lit up the night sky, and the “3-0” figure became a rallying cry.

Fourth and Fifth: The Rafales’ Fall?

As the day wore on, the battle’s ferocity only intensified. Pakistani radars tracked another pair of Rafales flying low, weaving to avoid detection. But PAF pilots, buoyed by their earlier successes, claimed a double strike.

“Rafale, Rafale — both targets locked,” Flight Lieutenant Rahman said over the comms. “Fox three. Splash two.”

With those radio calls, the Pakistani tally reached “5-0” — a figure broadcast with triumphant headlines across the nation. Yet in India, Air Force spokespeople vehemently denied losing even one Rafale, calling the claims “pure fiction.”

The Final Shot: Drone Down

As dusk fell, the PAF claimed one last kill — a Heron UAV, allegedly providing real-time intelligence to Indian pilots. A JF-17 pilot, call sign “Falcon,” launched a missile that streaked upwards, striking the UAV in a burst of flame.

“Heron down. Confirmed,” the PAF announced.

The 6-0 figure was complete.

The Aftermath and the Fog of War

In the days that followed, Pakistan’s narrative was clear: six enemy aircraft destroyed in a single day, a stunning blow against a numerically superior foe. Indian pilots, they said, had been taught a lesson in humility and airspace sovereignty.

But India’s Ministry of Defence painted a starkly different picture. “One MiG-29 lost, yes,” General Anil Chauhan conceded in a press briefing. “But no Rafales, no Su-30s, no UAVs. These claims are absolutely incorrect.”

International observers found themselves caught in the middle. With no independent verification — no satellite imagery released, no foreign observers allowed near the wreckage — the battle’s true cost remained shrouded in doubt.

The Ceasefire and the Legacy

On May 10, under intense diplomatic pressure from Washington and Beijing, a shaky ceasefire was declared. The PAF pilots returned to their bases as heroes in Pakistan. In India, pilots refocused on rearming and modernizing, determined not to let any claims of defeat erode their resolve.

But across the region, the “6-0” figure became more than just a statistic. For Pakistanis, it symbolized defiance and triumph. For Indians, it was a testament to the power of information warfare — and a cautionary tale of how quickly perceptions can outrun reality.

In the skies over Kashmir, victory is rarely clear. But in the battle of narratives, the 6-0 dogfight lives on, a legend woven from missiles, metal, and the murky haze of war.