“A great warrior, a fine pilot, and a genuine good Samaritan, that was Denzil Keelor.” – Air Marshal Ajit Bhavnani, former Vice Chief of the Indian Air Force
“Denzil the human being was the real hero, not just Denzil the ace fighter pilot.” – Air Chief Marshal SP ‘Shashi’ Tyagi, former Chief of the Indian Air Force
On August 28, 2024, India lost a national hero, Air Marshal Denzil Keelor. He was 90. Keelor was buried at Delhi’s Brar Square, along with other Indian bravehearts, which include his brother Wing Commander Trevor Keelor, who passed away in 2002.
Of course, the Keelor brothers fully deserve to be part of the Indian Air Force folklore. On September 3, 1965, Trevor became the first Indian pilot to shoot down a Pakistani Sabre fighter jet in the early days of the India-Pakistan War. On September 19, his elder brother Denzil brought down another Pakistani Sabre. Both shot to instant fame, as a grateful nation elevated them to iconic status, for life.
Denzil & Trevor, The ‘Sabre Killers’
Denzil Keelor was born on December 7, 1933 in Lucknow. Trevor was exactly a year younger, born on December 8, 1934. Their mother was Isabel, and their dad, Charles, who was headmaster at St. Francis’ College. The brothers did much of their schooling there. Destined to do a lot together, both went on to study at Lucknow’s prestigious La Martiniere College. Both had a passion for flying, and joined the Indian Air Force (IAF) together. Both became fighter pilots, both were Squadron Leaders flying Gnats in 1965. And as both shot down a Sabre each, they were famously called India’s ‘Sabre Killers’. And of course, both were awarded Vir Chakras.
But there was more to Denzil Keelor than that one blaze of glory, when an F-86 Sabre lined up in his gunsight in the skies over Sialkot, Pakistan, and he fatefully pulled the trigger to bring it down. Why did Air Marshal Bhavnani call him a good Samaritan? Why did Shashi Tyagi tell me to look beyond his exploits in the air?
I explored and discovered that Keelor was one of the finest examples of what it means, when they say that “being a soldier” – or in his case, being a ‘Fighter Pilot’ – “is a way of life’. Denzil never could, nor needed to, shrug off the well-earned tag of a war hero, but he knew it would take a lot more to define himself. And that’s what he set out to do.
The Restless, Ever Helpful ‘Father Denzil’
“Denzil ko mirchi lagi rehti thi (he was always on fire). He had great restless energy, he was always looking for purpose, looking to help. And if helping meant bending a few rules, he would do that too,” Tyagi tells me.
Fast forward from 1965 to 1974. Now a Wing Commander, Keelor was the CO of No.4 Squadron, flying MiG-21s in Tezpur, Assam. He was very fond of hockey, often playing and refereeing matches at the base. His squadron had three airmen who were excellent hockey players. Keelor had just heard they had an opportunity to play in a professional league in Calcutta. Air travel was a luxury those days, yet Keelor found the funds to fly the trio, and they realised their hockey dreams.
“We bachelors used to be constantly broke, but Denzil Sir would clear our mess bills… crazy and totally unthinkable in present times!” former Air Chief Marshal NAK ‘Charlie’ Browne, who was back then a young officer serving under Keelor in No. 4 Squadron, recalls fondly. “At the same time, he was a thorough professional who taught us a thing or two about air combat.. so privileged and blessed to have served under him… a noble soul indeed,” he adds. By the way, the No. 4 Squadron called him ‘Father Denzil’ because he was extremely caring, often to a fault. “His pilots and ground crews would give their right arms for him!” Tyagi quips.
The Man Who Prepped Gwalior For Mirage 2000
Fast forward again, to 1984. An Air Commodore by then, Keelor was commanding the Gwalior air base. One afternoon, he got a call from an Army Captain stranded at Gwalior railway station. He needed to get home for his Dad’s cremation, but the trains had been cancelled due to a derailment. Someone had asked him to call Keelor. Sure enough, the latter picked him up from the station, and then, cutting through red tape, he organised an Avro transport aircraft to make sure the young captain could light his father’s funeral pyre.
Air Marshal Ajit Bhavnani has another sweet anecdote. Bhavnani was the CO of the new No. 7 Mirage 2000 Squadron that moved into Gwalior in 1985. The base had to be massively expanded and upgraded for India’s first-ever Mirages. “It was “Denzil Keelor’s energy and compassion that transformed Gwalior air base, and in record time,” Bhavnani told me. “Keelor approached local villagers personally to request them to sell their land to the IAF. He personally ensured that their compensations were generous, paid in full, and on time. He would scale buildings to check water tanks, he would jump in to solve electricity supply issues. He was never the distant ‘Bada Sahab’. He would roll up his sleeves and make things happen.”
Denzil And Marie… Sweethearts Since Lucknow
So, how did Keelor’s “better half” deal with her husband’s boundless energy? “Ah, Marie and Denzil were childhood sweethearts from Lucknow, so she knew him very well, and was his quiet supporter. And he, in return, always pampered her,” says Bhavnani, who, along with his wife Anita, were probably the closest to the Keelors in the Air Force.
Interestingly, Keelor was a teetotaller, a rare thing for a pilot. Though legend has it that Trevor did make up for his brother’s abstinence. But Ajit Bhavnani remembers how even though Keelor never drank, he was social. “He was never in a corner, drinking away. In any get-together, he would be moving around and spreading his ‘Denzil warmth’.”
Upright, Outspoken, And Standing Up For His Beliefs
Above all, Keelor was an upright, outspoken officer, who stood for his beliefs. In December 2016, when Tyagi was arrested by the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) on charges of corruption in the Rs 3,600-crore AgustaWestland helicopters deal case, Keelor was one of the few former senior IAF officers to react. Convinced that Tyagi’s name was being dragged into a murky political battle, he said to the media at the time, “They are making a scapegoat out of a distinguished pilot. This is a disrespectful way of handling this case.”
Tyagi told me that he was grateful for Keelor’s outspoken support – “Denzil turned up at every court hearing to stand by me. He was upset about how this was hurting the Air Force.”
Dignified Through Everything
The Keelors were stoic even when tragedy struck the family. Trevor passed away in 2002, and, a few years later, Marie and Denzil lost their younger son Neville to an illness. “It’s painful to lose a son, but Marie and Denzil showed a lot of dignity,” Bhavnani recounts.
I also spoke to Rekha Kapila, the wife of late Air Vice Marshal Viney Kapila, who was Denzil Keelor’s wingman on that iconic day in 1965. While the twin Sabre ‘kills’ of the Keelor brothers grabbed public attention, Kapila too, then a Flight Lieutenant, shot down a Pakistani Sabre that day. He was also awarded a Vir Chakra. Rekha and Viney got married just weeks after the 1965 war, and she remembers the Keelors fondly: “It was lovely to meet someone so warm and helpful, right after getting married. Marie and Denzil were so down-to-earth, despite all the public attention.”
Denzil’s Pet Project – Special Olympics Bharat
Keelor retired in 1991 after serving for 37 years, as one of the IAF’s most decorated officers and certainly its most famous face. But the ‘Sabre Killer’ could not sit back and disappear into golf or gardening. He remained a man of action. In 2001, he founded Special Olympics Bharat to bring sports into the lives of intellectually challenged children and adults. By the time he stepped down as Chairman in 2015, at the age of 82, he had brought 1.4 million ‘special’ athletes into the programme from across India.
“He didn’t know how to slow down. At 89, he had a fall and broke his hip bone. But even in a wheelchair, he was cracking jokes and smiling through the pain,” Bhavnani says fondly.
A Complete Life
Looking back, Keelor had a glittering career. After his active flying days, in 1977, he served as Commandant of the Tactics and Air Combat Development Establishment (TACDE) in Jamnagar, where the ‘Top Guns’ of the IAF get advanced combat training. In 1980, he was Air Attache at the Indian Embassy in Paris. Even after retiring, he never slowed down. He put in time at the Directorate General of Civil Aviation, was Chairman of the YMCA for 10 years, Chairman of the Frank Anthony group of schools, and, of course, there was his pet project, Special Olympics Bharat. That was Denzil Keelor, the problem solver, always up to something.
Keelor’s peers and juniors never tire of sharing the stories of his flying skills, his leadership, and his generosity and energy. But we should know that none of this ever mattered to him. Denzil just wanted to help. He’s probably fixing the plumbing up in Heaven right now.
(Rohit Khanna is a journalist, commentator and video storyteller. He has been Managing Editor at The Quint, Executive Producer of Investigations & Special Projects at CNN-IBN, and is a 2-time Ramnath Goenka award winner.)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
