THE INDOCHINESE WAR OF 1 9 6 2
The blunder committed by political as well as military leadership by misreading the Chinese game and neglecting the Indian Army’s preparedness, made India suffer a humiliating defeat in the Sino-Indian war. The only thing that stood out was the iron will and cold courage of the soldiers who, though completely outnumbered and ill-equipped, fought to defend their country’s honour.
The blunder committed by political as well as military leadership by misreading the Chinese game and neglecting the Indian Army’s preparedness, made India suffer a humiliating defeat in the Sino-Indian war. The only thing that stood out was the iron will and cold courage of the soldiers who, though completely outnumbered and ill-equipped, fought to defend their country’s honour.
The seeds of the war were sown in the Aksai Chin area which India considered a part of Kashmir but China considered a part of Xinjiang. Tension was compounded further after the Tibetan uprising of1959, when India granted asylum to the Dalai Lama. This led to unpleasantness with China and some violent incidents on the border. India then started sending patrols into disputed areas with China. The aim was to create outposts behind the advancing Chinese Army so that their supplies could be cut off. India initiated a Forward Policy in which it placed outposts along the border. These included some posts which were placed north of the McMohan Line, the eastern part of the Line of Actual Control. Initially, the plan seemed to work but later China took this as a threat and decided to teach India a lesson. A romantic and politically shortsighted Nehru however did not increase military spending on preparation for a possible war with China. Not only was the Army denied equipment, the renowned 4th Infantry Division was used to build houses instead of preparing for war. Nehru appointed Lt General B. M. Kaul as Chief of Army Staff in 1961. General Kaul was confident that China would not retaliate when India sent patrols into areas disputed with China. The Chinese, however, slowly started encircling the Indian positions.
Maj Dhan Singh Thapa’s post at Sirijap in Ladakh was one such case. In fact, such was the confidence that China would not attack that he had even been granted leave to go home just a few days before the Chinese attacked Sirijap. Major Thapa was waiting for his reliever when the Chinese attacked, massacring nearly the entire company and taking the survivors back as Prisoners of War. Maj Thapa, awarded a Param Vir Chakra posthumously since he was believed dead, was one of these POWs.
As early as August, China had started accumulating arms, ammunition and rations and the signs were clear that they were preparing for war. India, however, turned a blind eye to all this. Subedar Joginder Singh, awarded a Param Vir Chakra posthumously, waited across a stream in the Bumla axis in Arunachal Pradesh, then called the North-East Frontier Agency, watching the Chinese prepare their defences.
Indian forces were unprepared, illequipped and did not even have proper winter clothing when on 12 October Jawaharlal Nehru declared that he had ordered the Indian Army to throw the Chinese out of NEFA. On 14 October, an editorial in the People’s Daily in China issued a warning to India and Nehru, ‘At this critical moment, we still want to appeal once more to Mr Nehru: better rein in at the edge of the precipice and do not use the lives of Indian troops as stakes in your gamble,’ it said. On 20 October, the Chinese People’s Liberation Army launched two attacks on India. One of these was in Thag La, NEFA, while the other was in the Chushul sector of Ladakh. Both the attacks were massive in terms of troop concentration. On the Indian side, single companies of around 120 soldiers defended posts that were surrounded by thousands of enemy soldiers armed with machine guns, mortars and grenades. The Battle of Rezang La, where almost every man died fighting and Major Shaitan Singh got his Param Vir Chakra posthumously, is still remembered as a tale of tragic heroism where brave soldiers unquestioningly gave up their lives for the mistakes of shaky government heads and bad military leaders.
The Sino-Indian War was fought at altitudes over 14, 000 feet. The lessons learnt from it were: good intelligence and war readiness are imperative to winning wars, good command at the senior level means generals be appointed on military merit and not sycophancy, politicians should not ignore the advice of military officers regarding military readiness, and that incompetent people who rise to the top mess up nations.
The only shining stars of the ‘62 war were the brave soldiers of the Indian Army, who fought valiantly and often to death to protect their territories. The Indian soldiers lacked everything except courage, it has been famously said. These brave hearts fought in high attitudes and freezing temperatures. They used old and cumbersome. 303 rifles against Chinese automatics. They were outnumbered and completely mauled by the well-prepared Chinese Army but they continued to fight for the honour of their nation.
Many brave stories of unassuming heroes in uniform came out of this war. Three of them were of Subedar Joginder Singh, Maj Dhan Singh Thapa and Maj Shaitan Singh. All three were awarded the Param Vir Chakra posthumously but miraculously Maj Thapa returned from the dead a few months after the Battle of Sirijap. He had been taken Prisoner of War by the Chinese.
Their brave tales of unbelievable courage and fortitude tell us how soldiers don’t forget their responsibilities even if politicians do.
Dhan Singh Thapa
Battle For Sirijap 1, Ladakh Region
20 October 1962
The Gorkha soldier is in his early 20s. He is firing from his trench. His slim fingers hold the. 303 rifle so close to his slight frame that it appears to be an extension of his body. A helmet covers his young face.
It is freezing cold but there are beads of sweat on his brow. He is shooting at the Chinese, who are coming in a massive wave, their automatic rifles spraying bullets blindly at the men defending Sirijap 1. The post lies on the northern edge of the Pangong Tso and is manned by the Delta Company of the first battalion of 8 Gorkha Rifles. The soldier uses his bullets with care. He knows ammunition is running short and he and his comrades are completely outnumbered. There were 28 of them when the Chinese started shelling at 6 a. m. but nearly half of them now lie around him, some dead, others dying.
Just then, a shell blows up a bunker that collapses right on top of Subedar Min Bahadur Gurung, the company second-in- command. Gurung Sahab crawls out of the debris, injured and bleeding, light machine gun (LMG) still in his hand. He starts firing at the enemy again, his mud-streaked face a mask of cold control. Major Dhan Singh Thapa, commander, D Company, continues to move from trench to trench, inspiring those left of his men to be brave.
Just then a bullet hits the soldier in the hand. He drops the rifle and, screaming with pain, runs into the tent that still stands intact. Without losing a second, Maj Thapa reaches for the fallen gun and carries it inside. He finds the terrified soldier cringing in a corner, nursing his injured hand. Thapa walks across to him and pats him on the head softly. ‘Kafar hunu bhanda marnu ramro’ (It is better to die than be a coward), he says, handing the gun back to the young man. ‘If we have to die we’ll all die together, but kill a few before you die.’
With that Maj Thapa turns around and quickly makes his way back to where a soldier lies dead with his LMG still in his hands. He pulls the gun and gets into the trench himself, positioning himself in front of the advancing enemy. From the corner of his eye he sees the injured soldier walking back with a determined look on his face and the rifle in his blood-stained hands. The battle that took place at Sirijap 1 in the Chushul sector of Ladakh is immortalized in military history for the dynamic leadership of Maj Dhan Singh Thapa. He was the man who inspired his brave Gorkhas to fight to the last. Sirijap 1 was one of the many posts established as part of the forward policy that had been employed by India to counter the Chinese, who had been establishing posts in Ladakh. Since the men of D Company had to be split among a number of posts, only about 28 soldiers were placed at Sirijap 1. A Chinese attack wasn’t really expected there and the Major, who had gone to Ladakh leaving his pregnant wife behind in Dehradun, had even been granted one week’s leave to go home and the officer sent to relieve him had reached Leh. But despite getting permission to proceed on leave, Thapa had insisted upon waiting for his replacement to take over Sirijap since he did not want to leave his company headless.
On 19 October, Maj Thapa was surprised to find hectic activity on the enemy side and build-up of the Chinese forces on the posts. Suspecting a possible attack, Maj Thapa and his men began preparing their defence. The ground was hard and frozen and it was very difficult to dig in so they piled up sandbags to reinforce their bunkers.
The men waited anxiously that entire night. There were just 28 of them! But Maj Thapa inspired them with his words of courage. ‘Don’t forget that one Gorkha is equal to 10 others,’ he told them with quiet confidence. ‘We did not panic in any way, neither were we afraid of anything except the biting cold outside the trenches, where freezing winds would blow during our patrols at night, ‘ Subedar Major Tulsi Ram Thapa, a survivor, will tell Poonam (Maj Thapa’s youngest daughter) many years later when she is researching for a biography on her father). ‘We had enough clothing. Each of us was issued three pairs of woollen socks, woollen undergarments, trousers, goggles, jackets, sleeping bags, camouflage raincoats, etc., and physically we were quite comfortable. Some of us had even received letters from home. ‘
That dark night passed without any untoward incident and slowly the soldiers who were not on duty closed their eyes for some rest. At 6 a. m. on 20 October, there was a blast and Sirijap 1 shook under heavy artillery fire. Bombs exploded and the air rang with the deadly hiss of shells and screams of those hit, followed by the boom of heavy mortars. The explosions destroyed the bunkers the Gorkhas had constructed and caused devastation amongst their small force. Many soldiers were killed in their trenches, many more wounded. Very soon the radio network was also disrupted, cutting the company off completely from the rest of the battalion. Signal officer Maj Ved Vyas will later remember the last message received from Maj Thapa. ‘Neither will I withdraw, nor will I surrender, ‘ he had said.
The observation post at Tokung, a ferry point for boats that were used for the maintenance of posts in the Pangong Tso area, was the only place from where soldiers could witness the battle of Sirijap. The soldiers say the shelling went on for more than two hours and Sirijap looked like it had been set on fire. While the shelling was on, the Chinese Army managed to get close to the company position. No sooner had the shelling stopped than they attacked in a strength of more than 500. The Gorkhas put up a very brave fight. Most of them were in their early 20s with just a few years of service. Their LMGs and .303s were no match for the sophisticated arms and ammunition with the enemy, but they still managed to create havoc in the Chinese army. Small and slim in stature, they did not lack in courage. Led by their company commander, who was himself just 33 years old, they fixed the enemy soldiers in their gun-sights and shot them down the moment they came close.
The sheer numbers of the Chinese, however, were overwhelming. Every time they repulsed an advance the enemy would attack in even larger numbers. Naik Krishna Bahadur Thapa, in charge of one section, was hit by a splinter that severed his leg. In spite of his grievous wound, he picked up the LMG of a dead comrade and continued to fire at the advancing enemy till he was hit by another volley of bullets and dropped dead. The men who survived remember how Maj Thapa rose above all others. He proved to them that he was a true commander. While the firing was on, he boldly went around bunkers without a thought for his own safety, strengthening breaches, replacing men who had died or were injured and encouraging the remaining with his brave words. He inspired them to hang on courageously and not bother about what was bound to happen.
After two of their attacks were repelled, the Chinese used amphibious crafts to ferry machine guns and bazookas across the lake. Since D Company had lost all radio contact, the battalion headquarters sent Naik Rabilal Thapa with two boats on the lake to find out what was happening, but the Chinese fired at them and managed to capsize one, drowning all men on board. The other returned to the battalion with Naik Rabilal on board. He had managed to get within 1000 yards of Sirijap before the enemy opened LMG fire at him from three sides. He saw clouds of grey smoke and flames rising from Sirijap which appeared totally destroyed. He reported that the post had fallen to the Chinese and all men defending it had lost their lives.
The fact was that Sirijap had not lost all its men. Seven of the brave soldiers were still holding on though they were fast running out of ammunition. Inspired by the example of their company commander, who continued to fight by their side, they did not lose their nerve. Those who ran out of bullets picked up the rifles of their dead comrades and kept firing.
When all their ammunition finished and the Chinese started using incendiary bombs to start fires to smoke out the soldiers, the Gorkhas pulled out their khukris (traditional Nepali knives), and jumped out of their trenches screaming out their war cry: ‘Jai Mahakali, Aayo Gorkhali.’ Led by their commander, they plunged their deadly blades deep into enemy throats and chests. Maj Thapa was one of the last few left alive and was fighting with his khukri when he was hit in the face by a rifle butt and lost two of his teeth. He killed the Chinese soldier and was in the process of putting out a fire by rolling over it physically when he was surrounded and taken prisoner along with a few others. When dusk fell over Sirijap on 20 October, the battalion had no idea about the fate of Maj Thapa, who had been given up as dead along with the 28 other heroes. For his devotion to duty, undaunted gallantry and inspiring command, Maj Thapa was recommended for an immediate award of Param Vir Chakra (PVC). He was awarded the PVC posthumously since he was believed to have been killed in the war. Unknown to his battalion, the Major and a few other survivors of Sirijap were taken away by the Chinese, first to Khurnak Fort and subsequently to Sinkiang, as prisoners of war (POWs).
Maj Thapa remained in Chinese captivity till May 1963. He was kept in complete isolation, subjected to Chinese propaganda, which included being made to watch Chinese films that glorified their policies, and being weakened emotionally by being told that despite knowing that they were alive, the Indian Army and the government were not taking any interest in their release. He might have spent his entire life in custody had he not made friends with a Chinese boy who brought him meals in the tent where he was prisoner. Even though he could not speak Chinese Maj Thapa established a bond with this boy and managed to convey to him that he had a family in India, his wife was pregnant and he wanted to send them a letter telling them he was alive. The Chinese boy posted the letter for him and it reached Major Thapa’s maternal uncle in Simla, who brought it to the notice of the Army that the PVC awardee, who had been declared dead, was in fact alive and in Chinese captivity. When Maj Thapa was brought back, he recounted tales of how he was continuously pressurized to admit that he was surrendering to the Chinese and when he did not succumb, he was made to walk from one post to another in the freezing cold, without shoes and with a radio set strapped onto his back. He suffered from frostbite because of this continuous exposure to snow. Poornima says that her father suffered all his life from swollen feet and joint pain that later developed into arthritis.
Maj Thapa did not like to talk about his days as a prisoner and hardly ever spoke about the war either. ‘When we badgered him he would just say that he could never forget the sight of his soldiers dying in front of his eyes one by one or overcome the humiliation of being a POW,’ Poornima says. After Dhan Singh had been reported dead, his family had performed all his death rituals though his wife Shukla kept insisting that her husband was alive and would come back; he had promised her he would take her with him to his next posting. When Gorkha officers came to her house on 12 Young Road in Dehradun after the war with black bands on their uniforms to break the news of her husband’s death, she refused to believe them. At that time everyone felt she was under shock. When Maj Thapa came back in May 1963, he had to be remarried to Shukla since she had been made to undergo the rituals of widowhood. He also found himself face to face with his newborn son Param Deep Thapa, who had been named after the PVC his father had been awarded. When he grew up, Param went on to join the Army.
Maj Thapa rose to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and served till he retired. He continued to attend almost all the Republic Day parades from 1964 to 2004. Sick and undergoing dialysis for kidney failure in Delhi, Lt Col Thapa would slip in and out of consciousness in his last year. Poornima, who was taking care of him, pleaded with him to not attend the parade that year, but he refused gently yet firmly. ‘When I wear my uniform and go for the parade, I represent my soldiers; those men who fought a war with me. I cannot let them down,’ he told her. Though he could hardly stand for long or even stay alert, he put on his uniform, pinned on his PVC, tilted his Gorkha hat at the perfect angle and went for the parade, remembers Poornima. Through sheer willpower, he managed to stand in the jeep till he had saluted the President. After that, he sat down.
That would be the last Republic Day parade he would attend. On 5 September 2005, Lt Col Thapa died of kidney failure. He was 77 years old. Dhan Singh Thapa was born on 28 April 1928 in Simla, Himachal Pradesh, and commissioned into 8 Gorkha Rifles on 28 August 1949. Gentle and unassuming by temperament, he was, however, passionate about football, a sport he could not play later in life when he began to suffer from arthritis. He was a brave man. Even before the ‘62 war, when he was battling insurgency in Nagaland, his wife remembers how he would go out on night patrols without a thought for his own safety. In fact, Shukla delivered their second daughter at home at night when he was out on an operation in insurgency-hit Mochungchung, Nagaland. They lost their daughter just a few months before he went for the war; Thapa left behind his pregnant and grieving wife. Though duty came first, he was an indulgent father and a devoted husband, happy to hear his wife sing in parties and at home.
Simple and straightforward, he followed his heart. He loved the men who worked under him more than he loved those above him. Deeply religious, he enjoyed reading books on philosophy. When he was in captivity, the Chinese asked him why he believed in God. He said, ‘I should have been killed in the war, but it is a miracle that I’m still alive.’ He then opened his jacket and told the interrogating officer, ‘You can try to shoot me if you want but if God doesn’t want me to die, I won’t.’ The Chinese did not shoot him and, the fact is that he did return from the dead for his people.
This story has been reconstructed from accounts of retired soldiers and conversations with Poonam Thapa, late Lt Col Dhan Singh Thapa, PVC’s daughter.
Joginder Singh
About 45 km from Bathinda, across the lush green fields that are ripe with wheat, is a small village called Chehalanwalan. There in a large brick house is an eclectic mix of people and things: a shiny tractor, a lovingly polished Gypsy, an old cell phone with a loud Bo
Maj Dhan Singh Thapa’s post at Sirijap in Ladakh was one such case. In fact, such was the confidence that China would not attack that he had even been granted leave to go home just a few days before the Chinese attacked Sirijap. Major Thapa was waiting for his reliever when the Chinese attacked, massacring nearly the entire company and taking the survivors back as Prisoners of War. Maj Thapa, awarded a Param Vir Chakra posthumously since he was believed dead, was one of these POWs.
As early as August, China had started accumulating arms, ammunition and rations and the signs were clear that they were preparing for war. India, however, turned a blind eye to all this. Subedar Joginder Singh, awarded a Param Vir Chakra posthumously, waited across a stream in the Bumla axis in Arunachal Pradesh, then called the North-East Frontier Agency, watching the Chinese prepare their defences.
Indian forces were unprepared, illequipped and did not even have proper winter clothing when on 12 October Jawaharlal Nehru declared that he had ordered the Indian Army to throw the Chinese out of NEFA. On 14 October, an editorial in the People’s Daily in China issued a warning to India and Nehru, ‘At this critical moment, we still want to appeal once more to Mr Nehru: better rein in at the edge of the precipice and do not use the lives of Indian troops as stakes in your gamble,’ it said. On 20 October, the Chinese People’s Liberation Army launched two attacks on India. One of these was in Thag La, NEFA, while the other was in the Chushul sector of Ladakh. Both the attacks were massive in terms of troop concentration. On the Indian side, single companies of around 120 soldiers defended posts that were surrounded by thousands of enemy soldiers armed with machine guns, mortars and grenades. The Battle of Rezang La, where almost every man died fighting and Major Shaitan Singh got his Param Vir Chakra posthumously, is still remembered as a tale of tragic heroism where brave soldiers unquestioningly gave up their lives for the mistakes of shaky government heads and bad military leaders.
The Sino-Indian War was fought at altitudes over 14, 000 feet. The lessons learnt from it were: good intelligence and war readiness are imperative to winning wars, good command at the senior level means generals be appointed on military merit and not sycophancy, politicians should not ignore the advice of military officers regarding military readiness, and that incompetent people who rise to the top mess up nations.
The only shining stars of the ‘62 war were the brave soldiers of the Indian Army, who fought valiantly and often to death to protect their territories. The Indian soldiers lacked everything except courage, it has been famously said. These brave hearts fought in high attitudes and freezing temperatures. They used old and cumbersome. 303 rifles against Chinese automatics. They were outnumbered and completely mauled by the well-prepared Chinese Army but they continued to fight for the honour of their nation.
Many brave stories of unassuming heroes in uniform came out of this war. Three of them were of Subedar Joginder Singh, Maj Dhan Singh Thapa and Maj Shaitan Singh. All three were awarded the Param Vir Chakra posthumously but miraculously Maj Thapa returned from the dead a few months after the Battle of Sirijap. He had been taken Prisoner of War by the Chinese.
Their brave tales of unbelievable courage and fortitude tell us how soldiers don’t forget their responsibilities even if politicians do.
Dhan Singh Thapa
Battle For Sirijap 1, Ladakh Region
20 October 1962
The Gorkha soldier is in his early 20s. He is firing from his trench. His slim fingers hold the. 303 rifle so close to his slight frame that it appears to be an extension of his body. A helmet covers his young face.
It is freezing cold but there are beads of sweat on his brow. He is shooting at the Chinese, who are coming in a massive wave, their automatic rifles spraying bullets blindly at the men defending Sirijap 1. The post lies on the northern edge of the Pangong Tso and is manned by the Delta Company of the first battalion of 8 Gorkha Rifles. The soldier uses his bullets with care. He knows ammunition is running short and he and his comrades are completely outnumbered. There were 28 of them when the Chinese started shelling at 6 a. m. but nearly half of them now lie around him, some dead, others dying.
Just then, a shell blows up a bunker that collapses right on top of Subedar Min Bahadur Gurung, the company second-in- command. Gurung Sahab crawls out of the debris, injured and bleeding, light machine gun (LMG) still in his hand. He starts firing at the enemy again, his mud-streaked face a mask of cold control. Major Dhan Singh Thapa, commander, D Company, continues to move from trench to trench, inspiring those left of his men to be brave.
Just then a bullet hits the soldier in the hand. He drops the rifle and, screaming with pain, runs into the tent that still stands intact. Without losing a second, Maj Thapa reaches for the fallen gun and carries it inside. He finds the terrified soldier cringing in a corner, nursing his injured hand. Thapa walks across to him and pats him on the head softly. ‘Kafar hunu bhanda marnu ramro’ (It is better to die than be a coward), he says, handing the gun back to the young man. ‘If we have to die we’ll all die together, but kill a few before you die.’
With that Maj Thapa turns around and quickly makes his way back to where a soldier lies dead with his LMG still in his hands. He pulls the gun and gets into the trench himself, positioning himself in front of the advancing enemy. From the corner of his eye he sees the injured soldier walking back with a determined look on his face and the rifle in his blood-stained hands. The battle that took place at Sirijap 1 in the Chushul sector of Ladakh is immortalized in military history for the dynamic leadership of Maj Dhan Singh Thapa. He was the man who inspired his brave Gorkhas to fight to the last. Sirijap 1 was one of the many posts established as part of the forward policy that had been employed by India to counter the Chinese, who had been establishing posts in Ladakh. Since the men of D Company had to be split among a number of posts, only about 28 soldiers were placed at Sirijap 1. A Chinese attack wasn’t really expected there and the Major, who had gone to Ladakh leaving his pregnant wife behind in Dehradun, had even been granted one week’s leave to go home and the officer sent to relieve him had reached Leh. But despite getting permission to proceed on leave, Thapa had insisted upon waiting for his replacement to take over Sirijap since he did not want to leave his company headless.
On 19 October, Maj Thapa was surprised to find hectic activity on the enemy side and build-up of the Chinese forces on the posts. Suspecting a possible attack, Maj Thapa and his men began preparing their defence. The ground was hard and frozen and it was very difficult to dig in so they piled up sandbags to reinforce their bunkers.
The men waited anxiously that entire night. There were just 28 of them! But Maj Thapa inspired them with his words of courage. ‘Don’t forget that one Gorkha is equal to 10 others,’ he told them with quiet confidence. ‘We did not panic in any way, neither were we afraid of anything except the biting cold outside the trenches, where freezing winds would blow during our patrols at night, ‘ Subedar Major Tulsi Ram Thapa, a survivor, will tell Poonam (Maj Thapa’s youngest daughter) many years later when she is researching for a biography on her father). ‘We had enough clothing. Each of us was issued three pairs of woollen socks, woollen undergarments, trousers, goggles, jackets, sleeping bags, camouflage raincoats, etc., and physically we were quite comfortable. Some of us had even received letters from home. ‘
That dark night passed without any untoward incident and slowly the soldiers who were not on duty closed their eyes for some rest. At 6 a. m. on 20 October, there was a blast and Sirijap 1 shook under heavy artillery fire. Bombs exploded and the air rang with the deadly hiss of shells and screams of those hit, followed by the boom of heavy mortars. The explosions destroyed the bunkers the Gorkhas had constructed and caused devastation amongst their small force. Many soldiers were killed in their trenches, many more wounded. Very soon the radio network was also disrupted, cutting the company off completely from the rest of the battalion. Signal officer Maj Ved Vyas will later remember the last message received from Maj Thapa. ‘Neither will I withdraw, nor will I surrender, ‘ he had said.
The observation post at Tokung, a ferry point for boats that were used for the maintenance of posts in the Pangong Tso area, was the only place from where soldiers could witness the battle of Sirijap. The soldiers say the shelling went on for more than two hours and Sirijap looked like it had been set on fire. While the shelling was on, the Chinese Army managed to get close to the company position. No sooner had the shelling stopped than they attacked in a strength of more than 500. The Gorkhas put up a very brave fight. Most of them were in their early 20s with just a few years of service. Their LMGs and .303s were no match for the sophisticated arms and ammunition with the enemy, but they still managed to create havoc in the Chinese army. Small and slim in stature, they did not lack in courage. Led by their company commander, who was himself just 33 years old, they fixed the enemy soldiers in their gun-sights and shot them down the moment they came close.
The sheer numbers of the Chinese, however, were overwhelming. Every time they repulsed an advance the enemy would attack in even larger numbers. Naik Krishna Bahadur Thapa, in charge of one section, was hit by a splinter that severed his leg. In spite of his grievous wound, he picked up the LMG of a dead comrade and continued to fire at the advancing enemy till he was hit by another volley of bullets and dropped dead. The men who survived remember how Maj Thapa rose above all others. He proved to them that he was a true commander. While the firing was on, he boldly went around bunkers without a thought for his own safety, strengthening breaches, replacing men who had died or were injured and encouraging the remaining with his brave words. He inspired them to hang on courageously and not bother about what was bound to happen.
After two of their attacks were repelled, the Chinese used amphibious crafts to ferry machine guns and bazookas across the lake. Since D Company had lost all radio contact, the battalion headquarters sent Naik Rabilal Thapa with two boats on the lake to find out what was happening, but the Chinese fired at them and managed to capsize one, drowning all men on board. The other returned to the battalion with Naik Rabilal on board. He had managed to get within 1000 yards of Sirijap before the enemy opened LMG fire at him from three sides. He saw clouds of grey smoke and flames rising from Sirijap which appeared totally destroyed. He reported that the post had fallen to the Chinese and all men defending it had lost their lives.
The fact was that Sirijap had not lost all its men. Seven of the brave soldiers were still holding on though they were fast running out of ammunition. Inspired by the example of their company commander, who continued to fight by their side, they did not lose their nerve. Those who ran out of bullets picked up the rifles of their dead comrades and kept firing.
When all their ammunition finished and the Chinese started using incendiary bombs to start fires to smoke out the soldiers, the Gorkhas pulled out their khukris (traditional Nepali knives), and jumped out of their trenches screaming out their war cry: ‘Jai Mahakali, Aayo Gorkhali.’ Led by their commander, they plunged their deadly blades deep into enemy throats and chests. Maj Thapa was one of the last few left alive and was fighting with his khukri when he was hit in the face by a rifle butt and lost two of his teeth. He killed the Chinese soldier and was in the process of putting out a fire by rolling over it physically when he was surrounded and taken prisoner along with a few others. When dusk fell over Sirijap on 20 October, the battalion had no idea about the fate of Maj Thapa, who had been given up as dead along with the 28 other heroes. For his devotion to duty, undaunted gallantry and inspiring command, Maj Thapa was recommended for an immediate award of Param Vir Chakra (PVC). He was awarded the PVC posthumously since he was believed to have been killed in the war. Unknown to his battalion, the Major and a few other survivors of Sirijap were taken away by the Chinese, first to Khurnak Fort and subsequently to Sinkiang, as prisoners of war (POWs).
Maj Thapa remained in Chinese captivity till May 1963. He was kept in complete isolation, subjected to Chinese propaganda, which included being made to watch Chinese films that glorified their policies, and being weakened emotionally by being told that despite knowing that they were alive, the Indian Army and the government were not taking any interest in their release. He might have spent his entire life in custody had he not made friends with a Chinese boy who brought him meals in the tent where he was prisoner. Even though he could not speak Chinese Maj Thapa established a bond with this boy and managed to convey to him that he had a family in India, his wife was pregnant and he wanted to send them a letter telling them he was alive. The Chinese boy posted the letter for him and it reached Major Thapa’s maternal uncle in Simla, who brought it to the notice of the Army that the PVC awardee, who had been declared dead, was in fact alive and in Chinese captivity. When Maj Thapa was brought back, he recounted tales of how he was continuously pressurized to admit that he was surrendering to the Chinese and when he did not succumb, he was made to walk from one post to another in the freezing cold, without shoes and with a radio set strapped onto his back. He suffered from frostbite because of this continuous exposure to snow. Poornima says that her father suffered all his life from swollen feet and joint pain that later developed into arthritis.
Maj Thapa did not like to talk about his days as a prisoner and hardly ever spoke about the war either. ‘When we badgered him he would just say that he could never forget the sight of his soldiers dying in front of his eyes one by one or overcome the humiliation of being a POW,’ Poornima says. After Dhan Singh had been reported dead, his family had performed all his death rituals though his wife Shukla kept insisting that her husband was alive and would come back; he had promised her he would take her with him to his next posting. When Gorkha officers came to her house on 12 Young Road in Dehradun after the war with black bands on their uniforms to break the news of her husband’s death, she refused to believe them. At that time everyone felt she was under shock. When Maj Thapa came back in May 1963, he had to be remarried to Shukla since she had been made to undergo the rituals of widowhood. He also found himself face to face with his newborn son Param Deep Thapa, who had been named after the PVC his father had been awarded. When he grew up, Param went on to join the Army.
Maj Thapa rose to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and served till he retired. He continued to attend almost all the Republic Day parades from 1964 to 2004. Sick and undergoing dialysis for kidney failure in Delhi, Lt Col Thapa would slip in and out of consciousness in his last year. Poornima, who was taking care of him, pleaded with him to not attend the parade that year, but he refused gently yet firmly. ‘When I wear my uniform and go for the parade, I represent my soldiers; those men who fought a war with me. I cannot let them down,’ he told her. Though he could hardly stand for long or even stay alert, he put on his uniform, pinned on his PVC, tilted his Gorkha hat at the perfect angle and went for the parade, remembers Poornima. Through sheer willpower, he managed to stand in the jeep till he had saluted the President. After that, he sat down.
That would be the last Republic Day parade he would attend. On 5 September 2005, Lt Col Thapa died of kidney failure. He was 77 years old. Dhan Singh Thapa was born on 28 April 1928 in Simla, Himachal Pradesh, and commissioned into 8 Gorkha Rifles on 28 August 1949. Gentle and unassuming by temperament, he was, however, passionate about football, a sport he could not play later in life when he began to suffer from arthritis. He was a brave man. Even before the ‘62 war, when he was battling insurgency in Nagaland, his wife remembers how he would go out on night patrols without a thought for his own safety. In fact, Shukla delivered their second daughter at home at night when he was out on an operation in insurgency-hit Mochungchung, Nagaland. They lost their daughter just a few months before he went for the war; Thapa left behind his pregnant and grieving wife. Though duty came first, he was an indulgent father and a devoted husband, happy to hear his wife sing in parties and at home.
Simple and straightforward, he followed his heart. He loved the men who worked under him more than he loved those above him. Deeply religious, he enjoyed reading books on philosophy. When he was in captivity, the Chinese asked him why he believed in God. He said, ‘I should have been killed in the war, but it is a miracle that I’m still alive.’ He then opened his jacket and told the interrogating officer, ‘You can try to shoot me if you want but if God doesn’t want me to die, I won’t.’ The Chinese did not shoot him and, the fact is that he did return from the dead for his people.
This story has been reconstructed from accounts of retired soldiers and conversations with Poonam Thapa, late Lt Col Dhan Singh Thapa, PVC’s daughter.
Joginder Singh
About 45 km from Bathinda, across the lush green fields that are ripe with wheat, is a small village called Chehalanwalan. There in a large brick house is an eclectic mix of people and things: a shiny tractor, a lovingly polished Gypsy, an old cell phone with a loud Bo
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