As a part of Bharat Raksha Parv, Jagran is doing an exclusive series for honouring brave soldiers by sharing their untold stories that will inspire millions.
(Penned by Lt. General Shokin Chauhan, PVSM, AVSM, YSM, SM, VSM, PhD in account of Bharat Raksha Parv)
I am a third generation soldier and I still remember the stories my father, who was a young lieutenant in the Dogra Regiment, when India got freedom, used to tell me, his voice trembling with a mix of pride and sorrow.
The year was 1947, and India was still learning to breathe as a free nation. The wounds of Partition were fresh, the air thick with uncertainty. In those days, heroes didn’t wear capes, they wore the dust of the land and the weight of impossible choices.
Back then, Kashmir was a beautiful but uncertain piece on a chaotic chessboard. The British had left, leaving behind borders drawn in blood. While most princely states had chosen sides India or Pakistan, Kashmir’s Maharaja hesitated, trying to stay independent even as unrest brewed on all sides. Pakistan saw its chance. They sent in tribal raiders armed, ruthless and burning with a single aim to seize Kashmir by force before it could accede to India. Villages fell, women were brutalised, and Muzaffarabad was already in flames. Baramulla was next. Srinagar would follow. The valley was slipping fast.
It was in this storm—in this fragile, terrifying moment for a nation barely ten weeks old—that a man named Ranjit Rai answered a call that would shape the course of history.
One such man was Lt. Col Dewan Ranjit Rai, a name that, for many, flickers quietly in the background of history. But for those who know, his story is the spark that further lit the fire of India’s resolve during a very difficult phase of India’s existence.
October 1947: The Call That Changed Everything
Lt Col Ranjit Rai had just taken command of the 1st Battalion, Sikh Regiment. Only 35 years old, he already carried the quiet authority of a man deeply rooted in both courage and conviction, a sword of honour recipient from Sandhurst, calm-eyed with the fire of duty in his heart.
The news came hard and fast: tribal raiders had crossed into Kashmir from Pakistan. Muzaffarabad had been overrun; Baramulla was next. Srinagar and perhaps all of Kashmir hung in the balance.
The newly formed Indian government scrambled. Urgent Airdrops to take our troops to Srinagar were planned. Lt Colonel Ranjit Rai was ordered to lead the very first response as the commanding officer of the 1st Sikh regiment fly into Srinagar, and tasked to secure the fledgeling airstrip and post doing that, hold off the raiders.
No one knew then that history was boarding that Dakota.
Baramulla: Where Legends Are Forged
When Colonel Rai and his battalion landed at Srinagar airstrip on 27 October 1947, there was no time to pause. The raiders were advancing fast, burning villages, killing civilians. Colonel Rai’s orders were clear, he had “hold the line’.
His resources were pitiful. A handful of troops. No artillery. No backup for days. But what his men noticed, what they spoke of in quiet awe, was how their commanding officer didn’t flinch. Not once.
He led the advance toward Baramulla on foot, calmly giving orders, always ahead, his eyes scanning every ridge. His words carried not authority, but solidarity. “Sadde jivan ton vadda desh hai. Asi pehlan marange, par Kashmir nahi dinde.”
The nation is greater than our lives. We may die first, but Kashmir will not fall.
Courage That Moved Men
Colonel Rai’s personal courage in those hours inspired more than discipline it bred fierceness. Leading from the front, he refused the safety of distance. He walked with his soldiers, slept beside them, ate what they ate.
In the chaos of combat, Rai wasn’t a figure shouting orders from the rear he was the one climbing the ridge first, map in hand, rifle slung, eyes sharp. In moments of doubt, it was his calm, unwavering presence that rallied his men.
His decision to split his already outnumbered forces to create flanking pressure was textbook military brilliance but it was also an act of immense personal risk. When his troops saw him charge ahead into the firing zone, not fall back, not hesitate, they followed not because they were commanded to, but because they believed in him and his leadership.
One of his riflemen, decades later, would remember:
“Sahab samne gaye. Goli chali. Par peeche mud ke nahi dekha. Us din humein sava lakh ki taqat mehsoos hui.”
“Sahab led from the front. Bullets flew, but he never looked back. That day, we each felt the strength of a hundred thousand.”
The Last Stand
Near Baramulla, as the battalion came under heavy fire, Colonel Rai made the decision commanders pray they never face: a last-ditch flanking manoeuvre. And then he led the attack himself.
A burst of enemy fire struck him as he climbed over a ridge. He fell, but not in retreat in defiance. Because of that brave charge, the enemy believed a larger force must be advancing. Confused, they halted.
That pause barely 48 hours was enough for Indian reinforcements to arrive.
Srinagar was never taken and still remains our jewel in the Kashmir Valley.
What Remains
Colonel Rai was posthumously awarded the Maha Vir Chakra, the nation’s second-highest gallantry award. His body was cremated in haste. His name was a passing headline. But among soldiers, his legend endured. There were no selfies. No grand statue. Just memories passed quietly through generations.
In every Sikh Regiment gathering, his story surfaces never rehearsed, never needed to be.
“Ranjit ne dikha diya ki kaise ladte hain pehli jung.”
“Ranjit showed us how to fight the first war.”
The Letter in the Trunk
Years later, lost in a rusted army trunk, Colonel Rai’s daughter found a folded letter unsent, addressed to her.
“If this is the last time I write, remember that I did not die in despair. I died standing, believing that India was worth every drop of my blood. One day, you will read this in peace, and that peace would have been bought not by politics, but by men who stood their ground.”
The Lesson
In a world where the word ‘hero’ is thrown around casually, where action is replayed in viral clips, we often forget what real courage looks like.
Colonel Rai had no guarantee of success. No backup. No glory waiting. But he stood between chaos and a newborn civilisation with only a rifle and a promise.
He was the first to fall.
So the that our young nation could rise and survive.
What They Gave, We Must Remember
Kashmir didn’t become part of India through just a signature on paper, it became India through the blood, courage and sacrifice of men like Colonel Ranjit Rai. He wasn’t fighting for land, he was fighting for the soul of a nation still learning to stand. Because of him, and the many unnamed heroes who followed, Kashmir stood tall and did not fall. It became not just territory but testimony to bravery, to belonging, to Bharat. That first battle, that first flame, lit a torch we still carry today with pride, with gratitude and with the promise that their sacrifice will never be forgotten.