A Story of Courage, Honesty, and Patriotism
Dr Parveen Singh
imparveen@yahoo.com
Some men come into this world to live quietly and fade away. But a rare few are born to leave their mark-not through power or wealth, but through the strength of their character.
Across Jammu and Kashmir, thousands of people stop at different petrol pumps every single day. Yet, there is one station where people pause-not only because of the high-quality fuel, but also because of the man who stands there. A man who insists that every customer stands in a queue, who ensures that every paisa is accounted for, and that every vehicle receives quality, quantity, and a personal touch. A man who believes that honesty is not a choice-it is a discipline, a way of life.
That man-my hero, my role model, my mentor-is my father, Captain Mohan Singh, Vir Chakra. A name that resonates not only across Jammu and Kashmir but in the glorious history of the Indian Army.
Today, many know him for his humility, his simplicity, and his steadfast dedication to his work. But very few know the extraordinary legacy he built in uniform-a legacy written in courage, forged in sacrifices, and sealed forever in patriotism. People often ask, “Why does the owner himself stand at the petrol pump from sunrise to late evening-in the scorching heat, in the biting cold-dressed in simple white, watching over every detail like a soldier on duty?” The answer is simple-Because once a soldier, always a soldier.
Becoming TIGER – The Soldier is Born
When he joined the Indian Army, Mohan Singh did not enter as just another recruit. From the very beginning, he stood out-fearless, disciplined, and intensely committed. He soon earned the name “TIGER” for his exceptional boxing skills and went on to win every boxing title available in the Army, defeating even the toughest opponents.
He proudly served in the elite 4 Assam Regiment, a unit known for raw courage and battle endurance. He often said, “A soldier does not fight because he hates the enemy in front of him.He fights because he loves the men beside him, and the country behind him.”
That courage was tested on January 30, 1971, the day India witnessed its first-ever aircraft hijacking. A Srinagar-bound flight was seized mid-air by Kashmiri separatists. Among the passengers sat Captain Mohan Singh, dressed in full Indian Army uniform, calm but alert.Instinctively ready to act, he was cautioned by co passenger ,Principal of then Srinagar Medical College , that the hijackers carried live grenades. One wrong move could have killed everyone on board. The aircraft was forced to land at Lahore airport and later blown up after all passengers were de-boarded. Captain Mohan Singh was detained and interrogated repeatedly, yet he maintained complete silence, refusing to reveal anything that could compromise his nation’s honor. Even the Pakistani press noted his calm dignity.At just 25 years old, he returned home stronger, prouder, and ever more resolute.
The War of 1971 – When “Tiger” Roared for India
With the 4 Assam Regiment, my father built a life rooted in duty-far from comfort, but close to courage and sacrifice. And then came the test that would define him forever. The year was 1971, the place-Attari-Wagah Border.
Pakistan had launched a full-scale attack, and his battalion received orders to capture a strategically vital Pakistani village-a fortress guarded by machine guns, rocket launchers, and bunkers. The mission was close to impossible, but for men like my father, impossible was never an option.As the battle began, the night sky exploded with fire. The enemy’s guns tore the ground apart. Shells screamed overhead. The air was thick with smoke and fear-but fear had no place in Captain Mohan Singh’s heart. The approach to the village was a death trap-a field filled with hidden mines. Soldiers had already fallen. Then came the call no soldier forgets:”Who will lead?”Without a second’s hesitation, Captain Mohan Singh stepped forward.
He turned to his men and said calmly, “Step only in my footprints, to avoid triggering the landmines scattered across the field, if I get martyred, the next man will lead. If he falls, another will take his place. But remember-the mission must not stop.”
And he walked first. Every step could have been his last, but he moved with the steadiness of a man who had already accepted death. His men followed, foot after foot, trusting his courage more than their own fear. Somehow, miraculously, they all crossed the minefield-not one man lost. As they reached the edge of the village, my father realized that a crucial machine gun had been left behind in the chaos. His second-in-command volunteered to go back for it-but just a few steps into the minefield; he was killed instantly by an explosion.
Without a second’s hesitation, my father turned back himself. Under a hail of bullets and blinding fire, he ran through the danger, retrieved the weapon, and returned to his men and led the assault once again.
Under a storm of bullets, my father and his men fought like lions. They destroyed enemy bunkers, silenced machine guns, and even captured a Pakistani tank-pushing the enemy back yard by yard. But the battle was far from over. Moments later, orders came to capture another enemy position that was unleashing relentless fire on their section. My father commanded his men to advance, but as they moved forward, the sky erupted-heavy shelling and machine-gun bursts rained down upon them. Bullets tore through the air. Soldiers dropped to the ground, taking cover behind whatever they could find. But not him. Captain Mohan Singh did what only the bravest do-he rose to his feet, faced the fire head-on, and charged forward. Then suddenly a full burst of several bullets ripped through his arm and shoulder.
Seeing their officer wounded, the soldiers faltered for a moment – hearts heavy, courage shaken. But before despair could spread, he tore off his turban, tied his shattered arm, and roared through the chaos:”Aage badhte raho!” – Keep moving forward!Those words changed everything. His men rose behind him. With one good arm, he kept firing, kept moving, destroying enemy positions one by one. His courage became contagious. Fear turned into fury. That day, they captured the enemy post-and the tricolor flew over what once was a Pakistani stronghold.
The story of his ferocity spread across the border. After the ceasefire, when the exchange of bodies, personal belongings, and war items took place between both sides, Pakistani soldiers revealed something remarkable – that during the battle, their commanders had placed a reward of ?500 for anyone who could capture Captain Mohan Singh, dead or alive.
They returned his belongings with respect – including his Pagri ribbon, which had been recovered from the battlefield. It was a silent gesture from one soldier to another – an unspoken salute from even the enemy, honoring the spirit of the man they could never capture.
For that act of unmatched gallantry, the President of India awarded him the Vir Chakra, one of the nation’s highest honors for bravery in battle.
After the war, my father’s arm never fully worked again – his elbow had been shattered by a burst of bullets. He carried shrapnel in his body and scars on his skin, yet he never spoke of pain. He disliked the word “hero.” He would simply say,”I didn’t do anything special. I only did my duty.”He taught us that courage is silent. Greatness is humble. Patriotism is action-not slogans.
Life after War – A Different Battlefield
When my father hung up his uniform, he did not hang up his values. He never sought favors, never cashed in on his Vir Chakra, and stayed away from politics and power. When the Government of India allotted him a petrol pump, he treated it not as a business, but as a post of duty.He ran it with the same discipline he practiced in uniform-ensuring honesty, fairness, and accountability. Even today, he stands there himself, ensuring every drop is pure and every customer is treated with respect. In Jammu & Kashmir, that petrol pump is known not merely as a fuel station, but as a symbol of integrity.
The Hardest War of All – The One He Fights Now
Life has tested my father many times, but his hardest battle is being fought at home. Captain Mohan Singh, Vir Chakra, now lies in a semi-coma, fighting a silent war between life and eternity. He does not speak anymore, yet when I hold his hand, I feel the same strength-the calm grip of a soldier who never surrendered. His heartbeat remains steady, disciplined, and determined. I often whisper that his war is not over and that I will now be his soldier, carrying his legacy forward. He taught me that a real man never gives up-and I will not give up on him. There are heroes whose names fill history books, and then there are heroes who live quietly among us. My father is one of them. He never spoke of his bravery-he lived it. In a noisy world, he stood for strength in silence, values without compromise, and patriotism through action. His voice may be silent now, but his life still speaks. And if you ever want to know what a real hero looks like, don’t look at a movie-look at a man like him, who didn’t just show courage… he was courage.
Dedicated to my father-A Soldier by Blood, A Warrior by destiny, A Legend forever.
(The author is Director Academics, JK Board of School Education)
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