The Brave: Param Vir Chakra Stories
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Rachna Bisht Rawat
THE BRAVE
Param Vir Chakra Stories
Contents
About the Author
Dedication
Introduction
The Indo-Pak War of 1947-48
Somnath Sharma
Karam Singh
Rama Raghoba Rane
Jadunath Singh
Piru Singh Shekhawat
Congo—1961
Gurbachan Singh Salaria
The Indo-Chinese War of 1962
Dhan Singh Thapa
Joginder Singh
Shaitan Singh
Second Kashmir War of 1965
Abdul Hamid
Ardeshir Burzorji Tarapore
The Indo-Pak War of 1971
Albert Ekka
Nirmal Jit Singh Sekhon
Arun Khetarpal
Hoshiar Singh
Siachen—1971
Bana Singh
Operation Pawan 1987-90
Ramaswamy Parameswaran
The Kargil War 1999
Manoj Kumar Pandey
Yogender Singh Yadav
Sanjay Kumar
Vikram Batra
References
Acknowledgements
Follow Penguin
Copyright
PENGUIN BOOKS
THE BRAVE
Rachna Bisht Rawat is a journalist, writer, mom to a precocious 12-year-old, and gypsy wife to an Army officer whose work has taken the Rawats to some of the quirkiest places in India. You can reach her at www.rachnabisht.com
Rachna is a 2005 Harry Brittain fellow and winner of the 2006 Commonwealth Press Quarterly’s Rolls Royce Award. Her first story, ‘Munni Mausi’, was Highly Commended in the 2008-09 Commonwealth Short Story Competition. This is her first book.
For all those brave soldiers whose sacrifices went
unrecognized—you were as brave as the ones we honoured
Introduction
Lest we forget
The Army has given me nearly all the men I love right from my father, who is a proud paratrooper, and my brother, also a paratrooper, to my husband, who is an engineer. And though Saransh, my 12-year-old son, wants to be a WWF wrestler as of now, there will be no one prouder than my husband and I if he does decide to join the Army.
Friends, family, cousins—these men in olive green have been around me for a lifetime, walking all over my carpet and my heart, with their dirty DMS boots, drinking Old Monk rum till kingdom come, driving me insane with their unpredictable lives, and melting me completely with a salute and a smile. And I can’t thank the Army enough for giving them to me, well-groomed and spit-shined. Gallant and charming, proud yet humble, uncomfortably out of place in a materialistic world but continuing to live their lives with dignity in the most trying times, because that’s the only way they’ve been taught. The Brave is for them all.
This story began one evening when I was walking down the Mall in Ferozepur, the last cantonment on the Indo-Pak border, where kids raced bicycles and red poppies bloomed by the roadside. Looking up, I caught the eye of Company Havildar Major Abdul Hamid, PVC, of 4 Grenadiers, who was killed in 1965 while blowing up a Pakistani Patton tank from his RCL gun in the Khemkaran sector. He was watching me from a laminated poster on the roadside. I had been offered my first book contract and was a little giddy with happiness. Looking up, I declared: ‘I am going to write your story, Abdul Hamid.’
Abdul Hamid did not respond but Lieutenant Colonel Manoj Rawat, my husband, who was walking by my side, smiled and stepped off the sidewalk and broke into a jog, gesturing to me to meet him end of the road when I was done. It took me a year, but I met him there.
This book signifies the end of the road that took me past fields of yellow mustard and golden wheat ripening in the sun, as I went looking for retired soldiers who had returned from wars that had claimed their comrades. I sat with them on cots pulled in the shade and shared with them their thoughts and their food. This road took me beyond the Sela Pass in Tawang, where an entire lake freezes over in the winter, to Bumla, where Subedar Joginder Singh fought with a bayonet when he ran out of bullets in the 1962 War, where soldiers lacked everything except courage. It took me to Kangra in Himachal, where fragrant white roses bloomed and the snow- covered Dhauladhar ranges accompanied me all the way to Captain Vikram Batra’s house, where his father sat draped in a pashmina shawl. It took me to Sirijap in Ladakh, where Major Dhan Singh Thapa sliced necks off with his khukri; and it took me all the way to freezing Rezang La in Chushul, where 13 Kumaon’s Major Shaitan Singh and his men (113 in all) were brutally massacred because they were outnumbered completely—they died following the orders: You will fight till the last man and the last bullet.
When 13 Kumaon sent me a list of Rezang La martyrs, it ran into three pages on my laptop and made my eyes wet. I met two Rezang La survivors, both 73 now. They recounted how a dying Maj Shaitan, his stomach slashed open, ordered them to leave him behind since their staying would only lessen their chances of survival.
I’m sharing these stories with you to celebrate the sacrifices these men in uniform made. This book is based on interviews with families and comrades of dead soldiers—and if there are any discrepancies between the versions of different people it is because incidents were looked at from different perspectives, clouded by pain and the haze of time.
It was not an easy book to write and I give it to you as a tribute to all the brave soldiers who died fighting for us, and to their families who have lived with loss all their lives and yet been generous enough to share with me what they still have—memories of these dead heroes.
THE INDO-PAK WAR OF 1947-48
Soon after Independence and the painful partition of British India, India and Pakistan fought their first war over the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir.
In June 1947, when Partition was announced, the 600 princely states that existed then were given the choice to accede to either India or Pakistan, or remain independent. Most rulers agreed to merge with the country closer to them, while a few chose to remain independent. Maharaja Hari Singh of Jammu and Kashmir decided to avoid accession to either country. He preferred to enter into a Standstill Arrangement, which guaranteed that existing administrative arrangements would continue to be honoured until a new agreement was made. An appeal was made to both countries to not arm twist the state into taking a quick decision but to allow a people’s verdict. Pakistan (which felt that since a majority of Kashmir’s population was Muslim, it should be a part of Pakistan) signed the agreement but was not ready to wait.
In a crafty bid to take over Jammu and Kashmir, it started infiltrating the hill state just a few months after Independence, with a force of Pathan tribesmen, ex-soldiers and deserters from the state forces intermingled with Pakistan Army regulars. The men were well supplied with rations, arms, vehicles and medical supplies and promised extensive looting. In October 1947, the raiders started attacking the border villages and creating a deadly atmosphere of plunder, loot and rape. They did not distinguish between Hindus and Muslims; they picked up women, took them back forcibly with them, and left hundreds dead in the villages they went through.
Initially, the raiders were fought back by the state military. But realizing that the attacking lashkars were proving too strong for them, Maharaja Hari Singh requested India’s help. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru made a shrewd diplomatic move by offering help subject to Kashmir signing the Instrument of Accession to the Union of India. That was the only way the Indian Army could enter Jammu and Kashmir legally.
After Maharaja Hari Singh signed the document, Indian troops were sent to defend Kashmir and drive out the raider
s. India had to airlift troops and equipment to Srinagar. A bloody conflict resulted. The raiders were chased out of Kashmir to beyond Baramulla and Uri and these towns were captured back. Jhanger, Rajauri, Tithwal, Kargil were other places that were recaptured by the Indian forces. The Zoji La Pass was taken over with the use of tanks, which could not have been imagined at that height, and even Dras was won.
Nehru finally asked the UN to intervene and after protracted negotiations a formal ceasefire was declared in January 1949. According to the terms of the ceasefire, Pakistan had to withdraw its forces, both regular and irregular, while allowing India to retain a minimum military strength in J&K to ensure the prevalence of peace, law and order.
Pakistan took over about two-fifth of Kashmir while India wrested control of the rest of Kashmir, which included the most fertile and prosperous regions.
Army units that participated in the action and fought bravely were awarded a total of 11 battle honours and one theatre honour. These included: Gurais, Kargil, Naushera, Srinagar, Punj, Tithwal, Rajouri and Zoji La.
It is believed that both India and Pakistan lost about 1500 men each in the war. The Indian Army fought bravely and the list of gallantry awards ran long. For their supreme acts of bravery, cold courage and devotion to duty, five soldiers were decorated with the Param Vir Chakra, independent India’s highest gallantry award. Major Somnath Sharma, Naik Yadunath Singh and Company Havildar Major Piru Singh Shekhawat died fighting and were given the award posthumously, while Lance Naik Karam Singh and Second Lieutenant Rama Raghoba Rane lived to wear the medal on their chests.
Somnath Sharma
Fifteen minutes early for my appointment with Lieutenant General (retd) Surindra Nath Sharma, former engineer-in- chief of the Indian Army and younger brother of late Major Somnath Sharma, I settle down to wait in the lobby of his tastefully done up house in Defence Colony, New Delhi. The slim and remarkably fit 90-year-old Sherwoodian walks in almost immediately. He dazzles me with his memory, his firm grip on names and dates, his British accent, his delightful wit and his old-world courtesy that includes holding doors open and walking me down to my car when the interview is done.
When he recounts tales of his brother’s bravery, there is pride in his voice; when he speaks about how the schoolboy Somi would march the kids in the neighbourhood up and down, he smiles nostalgically. And when he tells me about Somi’s infatuation with a very young girl when he last came to meet the family in Rawalpindi in 1947, he chuckles like a schoolboy, refusing outright to tell me more.
‘We don’t discuss ladies,’ he says gallantly. I am disarmed with his charm, but what impresses me most is the lucid manner in which he recounts the Battle of Badgam and makes Somnath Sharma and the ‘47 war with Pakistan come alive in front of my eyes.
Badgam, Jammu and Kashmir
3 November 1947
Resting his plastered left arm on the edge of the trench, Maj Somnath Sharma raises his head and squints at the sun; it has moved west but there are still a few hours of daylight left. He has to move his company soon and if they make good time, they can be back at the Srinagar airfield by night. It has been a tense and gruelling morning, but now he is feeling quite relaxed.
At first light that day, a fighting patrol comprising A and D Companies of 4 Kumaon (under Somi) and one company of 1 Para Kumaon (under Captain Ronald Wood) had been sent to Badgam after intelligence reports had warned that a 1000-strong lashkar of Pathans, led by Pakistan Army regulars, was heading towards Srinagar. Their aim, the reports had said, was to take over Srinagar airfield and thus handicap the Army by cutting off their supplies. The fighting patrol’s job had been to search for the raiders and engage them at Badgam, a small village three to four miles from the Srinagar airfield.
Early morning, Sharma had reported that his company was positioned on a hillock west of the village and that they had dug trenches there. 1 Para Kumaon had established themselves southeast of the village and had reported that the village was quiet and peaceful. Sharma had also reported that the villagers had been going about their chores quietly though they looked scared. He has also noticed that some of them were clustered in a nala where they seemed to be taking shelter. Since Badgam appeared peaceful, 1 Para Kumaon was ordered to ‘circle east and search; and then return to the airfield after making contact with 1 Punjab’. They did so, and were back in Srinagar by 1 p. m.
Since Badgam is quiet, Sharma is also ordered to start pulling his companies out. At 2 p. m. he reports that A Company, which had been ordered to circle to the west, had done so and was also on its way to the airfield. Somi plans to keep D Company in Badgam till late evening and then withdraw to the airfield. His decision is supported by Brig. L. P. Sen, DSO. The two know each other well from battles in the Arakan in 1944-45. The soldiers are just biding time since there are only a few hours to go.
The general stops for a breather and a sip of the lemonade that has appeared by our sides and then shakes his head gravely. ‘The people Somi had mistaken for villagers in the nala were in fact Pathans dressed as Kashmiri locals with weapons hidden under their loose chogas, ‘ he grimaces.
The lashkar was arriving in Badgam in bits and pieces to conceal their movement and it was led by a Pakistani major, who was hatching a crafty plan even as he watched the soldiers of the Indian Army patrolling the village. He had asked his men to mix with the locals and wait for the rest of the Pathans, who were quietly making their way to Badgam after slowly trooping in through the gap between the ranges at Gulmarg. He planned to attack Badgam when they reached a count of around 1000 men and then advance to the Srinagar airfield. Pakistan’s plan was to attack the airfield, cut off the Army’s access and then takeover Jammu and Kashmir.
‘It was a great plan, ‘ the general acknowledges grudgingly.
Around 2 p. m., well after A Company left Badgam, the villagers grouped in the nala began to disperse. While Sharma and his men thought they were returning to their homes, they were quietly positioning themselves around D Company. The Pakistani major had decided not to wait beyond afternoon and as soon as he had about 700 men, he launched his attack. Sharma and his company, consisting of about 90 men, were the only ones left to fight the raiders. They were outnumbered seven to one.
Wrinkling his forehead in an effort to remember, Lt Gen Sharma says it was around 2. 30 p. m. that Somi and his men were taken by surprise when gunfire started coming at them from the village. Soon, they were receiving machine-gun fire as well. Somi reported to his brigade commander that his position was under attack. He added that he was apprehensive about returning fire in the direction of the village because he could hurt innocent people, including women and children. By then, the raiders had started coming up in large numbers from a depression in the west.
‘There were hundreds of them, and they started targeting Somi’s company with mortar and automatic fire,’ says Lt Gen Sharma. ‘Since the Pathans were not trained soldiers, every 100 men were commanded by a Viceroy’s Commissioned Officer (VCO) while every 10 men had a regular Pakistani Army soldier with them who inspired them to fight. ‘
Lt Gen Sharma says he heard from soldiers of 4 Kumaon who returned alive from the battle how Somi encouraged his men to retaliate and, completely unmindful of his own safety, rushed from one trench to another urging them to fight back bravely. Such was the grit and determination of the men that the first few attacks, which came from different directions, were successfully repulsed.
The Pathans, however, drew strength from sheer numbers and began to increase the pressure. Soon they had surrounded D Company from three sides and started climbing up the hillock where the trenches were. They came in hordes, brandishing automatics and shouting Allah ho Akbar!’
Somi knew he was outnumbered. He called the brigade commander and asked for ammunition and reinforcements. He was told that 1 Punjab was being sent for their support but Somi realized they would take time to get there since they had to move in battle formation. He also understood how important it was to
hold back the enemy till reinforcements could be sent to close the gap leading to Srinagar. If that was not done, the raiders could advance right up to the airfield and take over Srinagar.
Somi decided to hold back tenaciously and urged his men to fight to the last. It is to their credit that they did, despite the fact that they were completely outnumbered and their. 303 rifles were no match for the enemy’s medium machine guns.
‘Somi knew his company would not be able to hold out for long but he did not let his men lose confidence. With complete disregard for his own safety, he rushed across the open ground in full view of the enemy and went about encouraging his men. When the heavy casualties started affecting the men manning the light machine guns, Somi himself went around, using his good hand—his left arm was in plaster—to fill magazines and hand these over to the light machine gunners. He would tell them when and where to fire.
“Idhar maro, udhar maro,” he would say, and the battle raged for almost five hours,’ the general tells me. ‘That was precious time for the Indian Army, since the raiders were being delayed and they were getting time to plug the gaps as they built up strength with Indian Air Force planes flying in more troops.’
Eventually, the men started running out of ammunition. When Somi informed brigade headquarters (HQ) about this, he was asked to pull back. He refused outright. ‘The enemy is only 50 yards from us. We are heavily outnumbered. We are under devastating fire. I shall not withdraw an inch but will fight to the last man and the last round, ‘ was his last message to the HQ.
Just a few minutes later, while he was crouched in a trench next to the Bren gunner, helping him load the gun, a mortar shell landed on the open ammunition box next to them. An eardrum-shattering blast rent the air. ‘It blew up Somi, his sahayak (an officer’s helper or man Friday who looks after his uniform and turnout), the machine gunner and a JCO, who was standing nearby, ‘ recounts Lt Gen Sharma, his voice gentle.