BOYRA, India, Nov. 27—Six days ago, fighting between Indian and Pakistani troops was reported three miles south of this sleepy Bengali town. Today, 75 Indian and foreign journalists brought here by Indian military authorities found that the town had gone back to sleep.

Newsmen and photographers, traveling four hours in two rickety buses over a bumpy road from Calcutta, were hoping to see evidence of the battle in which Indians claimed to have knocked out 11 American‐built M‐24 Chaffee tanks, downed 3 F‐86 Saber jets and killed 76 men.

What they saw were three tanks, neatly arranged in a semicircle, and small heaps of ammunition and arms placed before them. The town was practically empty, its people having been evacuated before the battle. There were no soldiers nor any sign of military activity, although heavily camouflaged bunkers and army vehicles were visible through the foliage of banana and date palm groves. In the fields beyond, a couple of helicopters lay beneath camouflage nets.

Early this week, newsmen who were stopped six miles from this border post saw Indian troops and equipment moving toward the village, which is 60 miles northeast of Calcutta and 20 miles west of Jessore, where heavy fighting was reported between the Pakistani garrison and the Mukti Bahini, the Bengali insurgents fighting for secession from Pakistan.

“The nearest Pakistani bunker is five miles away,” said an official who was conducting the party.

After tea and cookies, the newsmen sat in a row of chairs facing the tanks. Lieut. Col. Clarence Proudfoot of the intelligence wing of Eastern Command described the battle.

“Gentlemen and ladies of the press,” began the spruce, wispy officer, who said he had not been present at the fighting, “we are pleased to show you these things since you wanted to come here to see them.”

“As you know,” he said, “Boyra is on the border. It is an enclave—a salient protruding into East Pakistan. We are at the left end of the enclave.”

The scene was a clearing some 200 yards from the border, which was marked with a bamboo cross painted white. Newsmen were allowed to clamber over the tanks but were warned against stepping across the border or wandering too far from the tank display.

When a woman photographer walked off to try to get a look at the Indian bunkers, an officer in civilian clothes ran after her, shouting: “Mines! Mines! Come back! Come back!”

“On Saturday night,” the colonel continued, “we noticed Pakistanis moving in 14 Chaffee tanks‐18 tons with 76‐mm. guns—toward our post along with a strong unit of troops. Well, even if you can't see them in the night you can hear them coming.

“For four days before this, the people, of Boyra had been harassed by Pakistani shelling. The Mukti Bahini on the other side of the border informed us that Pakistanis were moving on us. We alerted our tank squadron on that night and they began moving left and right. We outflanked, the Pakistani tank column three miles ahead.

“Naturally, this defensive action involved our troops going into their territory. The battle began at 6 A.M. on Sun day and ended at 12 noon. There was a lot of dust. No one could see a thing. Every one was firing away.

“Pakistanis began retreating and our tanks went after them. But the Pakistanis blew up a bridge after crossing over a canal and our troops returned in a hurry. They did not wait to count enemies killed. Later the local people informed us how many were killed. But our troops found the three tanks abandoned and towed them along.”

Colonel Proudfoot said there was no coordination with the Mukti Bahini.

“But I want to say, I want to stress,” he said, “that our troops went in because the Mukti Bahini called for help. They said they were in mortal danger, because Pakistanis were moving ahead through their territory.”