1965: Gone in Battle, Never Returned, but Immortal in Courage – Grenadier Munshi Ram
Many people say, “Let there be war.” Yes, even I say it sometimes. I say it with pride, believing that our soldiers are ready, brave, and fearless. But then I stop and ask myself does anyone who demands war really understand its cost? Did they lose someone from their own family? Most people speak loudly about war, but very few have paid the price of it.
I once saw a mother an old, fragile mother with tears permanently settled in her eyes. She had lost her young son to this world, a son she raised with endless love and dreams. Even today, she keeps a glass of water at the door of her house, believing that her son, who was declared missing in the 1965 war, will one day return. In her heart, the war never ended. For her, her son is still alive, walking back home, resting his head in her lap, and sleeping peacefully once again.
I also saw a father who still waits. He says with pride that his son was martyred for the nation, and that his sacrifice fills his heart with honour. But when the sun sets, his house becomes unbearably silent. That silence reminds him of his son his strength, his pride, his world. Patriotism gives him courage, but loneliness breaks him every evening.
Then there is a brother now old, with time etched on his face, yet his eyes still search for someone. He waits with the hope that if his brother had returned, they would have shared their final moments together. War does not only take lives; it freezes time for those left behind.
When I began reading about the 1965 Indo-Pak War, I read the same history that everyone reads – dates, strategies, victories, and ceasefires. But I stopped when I read about the sacrifices. From 5 August to 23 September 1965, nearly 3,000 Indian soldiers laid down their lives for the nation. Around 100 soldiers were declared PKIA (Presumed Killed in Action) missing, with no bodies returned, no final closure for their families.
Among those names was Grenadier Munshi Ram, Service Number 264451, from 3 GRENADIERS, a brave son of Udhampur district Village Chanunta, Jammu and Kashmir. He went missing during operations after the 1965 war and was declared PKIA. For the nation, he became a hero written in records. But for his family, he remained a son, a brother, a presence that never truly left.
Photo of Grenadier Munshi Ram (PKIA) (3 GRENADIERS)
War creates history books, but it also creates empty homes, waiting eyes, and unanswered prayers. Before we speak of war with excitement or anger, we must remember these silent sacrifices. Because the real cost of war is not paid on the battlefield alone it is paid every day by mothers who wait, fathers who remember, and families who never stop hoping.
Grenadier Munshi Ram joined the Indian Army on 28 October 1960, when he was just 20 years old. At an age when most young men are still discovering life, he choose discipline, duty, and sacrifice. Soon after joining the Army, he was posted to one of the toughest operational areas of that time NEFA (North-East Frontier Agency). From 17 November 1962 to 6 September 1965, he served continuously in this harsh and challenging region, known for its unforgiving terrain, extreme weather, and constant operational pressure.
Far away from his home, perhaps missing his mother, his brother, and his wife every single day, Grenadier Munshi Ram stood firm not for comfort, not for reward, but for the safety of his motherland. In the harsh and unforgiving land of NEFA, where cold pierced the bones and silence tested the mind, he carried more than a rifle on his shoulders. He carried memories of home, the warmth of loved ones, and the quiet pain of separation. Yet, he never complained. NEFA tested a soldier’s physical strength and mental endurance, but Munshi Ram endured with quiet determination, because his love for the nation had grown stronger than his personal pain.
An important and often forgotten part of his life was his wife. At the time of his disappearance, she was nurturing a new life within her a fragile promise of tomorrow growing silently inside her. While he stood guarding the nation’s borders, she waited, holding on to hope, believing that he would return. But the sudden absence of her beloved husband did not merely change her life; it emptied it. Her days were filled with waiting, her nights with unanswered prayers.
She lived on for a few months, but only in form. The strength that once kept her standing faded with each passing day. The pain of loss, the silence of endless waiting, and the uncertainty of his fate consumed her completely. In truth, her soul left this world the very day he did. What remained was a fragile body carrying grief too heavy for one heart to bear a silent reminder that war does not only take soldiers from the battlefield; it also claims lives far away, inside homes, in the quiet suffering of those left behind.
During the 1965 Indo-Pak War, his posting was changed to the Western Sector, specifically the Bikaner and Jaisalmer sector (Rajasthan Operational Area). From 2 November 1965 to 3 December 1965, he served in the desert belt of Rajasthan. From the cold and rugged mountains of NEFA to the burning sands of the Thar Desert, one thing remained constant in his life standing guard for the nation. His love for India did not change with geography; it only grew stronger.
While gathering information about Grenadier Munshi Ram, one question kept coming to my mind, what is there in this Tricolour that makes a soldier wear his uniform like a shroud? What is so powerful in this nation that a young man chooses death over stepping back? When I tried to feel the sacrifice of a martyr like Grenadier Munshi Ram, I found the answer. His love began with the Tricolour pure, unconditional, and limitless. That love became so deep that resting forever in the lap of Mother India felt more peaceful than living for oneself. And so, he slept not in fear, but in honour.
Today, when we casually ask our friends, “How are you?”, we must remember that someone like Munshi Ram never cared about his own condition. Perhaps that is why our lives are safe today. We sit comfortably in air-conditioned rooms and discuss democracy, freedom of speech, and human rights because the sons of this nation stand on the borders, and many of them fall silently. Their sacrifice gives us the privilege to speak freely.
Every year, on 15 August and 26 January, we remember the martyrs who gave us freedom. But often, we forget those who continue to protect that freedom even today. Our independence survives not only because it was earned once, but because it is defended every single day by soldiers like Grenadier Munshi Ram. Somewhere, a mother must have handed over her beloved son to the nation, and that is why we wave the Tricolour under an open sky, without fear.
I say this with complete honesty a soldier is not just a man in uniform. A soldier is life within the soil of the nation. When such a soldier falls, the land does not lose him; it absorbs him. And that is how heroes like Grenadier Munshi Ram live forever within the earth, within the flag, and within the freedom we breathe every day.
On 3 December 1965, in a small skirmish in the Jaisalmer sector (Rajasthan Operational Area), Grenadier Munshi Ram went missing. During the fight, when some Pakistani troops opened fire, one of his comrades was hit. Showing extraordinary courage, Munshi Ram immediately protected his buddy, shielding him from further harm, and engaged the enemy alone, refusing to step back. He fought with unmatched bravery until the Indian Army backup team arrived. They searched the area thoroughly, calling out for him, but he was nowhere to be found.
Because his body was never recovered, he was officially declared Presumed Killed in Action (PKIA). There was even a possibility, however small, that he had been captured and was being held in a Pakistani prison. Pakistan, however, denied any such claim, and despite repeated leads or hopes, nothing could confirm his fate much like what happened later in 1971 with Captain Kamal Bakshi, who went missing in action during the war. There were many indications that he might have been in Pakistan’s custody, yet Pakistan consistently denied it.
For the family of Grenadier Munshi Ram, this was a deep, unending shock and grief. The uncertainty of not knowing whether their son, their pride, was alive or dead is a pain that never truly heals. Yet even in this void, Munshi Ram’s courage and sacrifice shine brighter than any fear or doubt. He gave everything for the nation, his youth, his life, and the safety of others without ever asking for recognition or reward.
Even today, we cannot say for certain if he became a martyr in the sands of Jaisalmer or if he is somewhere, waiting in captivity, hoping for rescue. That long, silent wait, that possibility of return, is a burden that his loved ones carry every day. But what is clear is this: whether in life or in absence, Grenadier Munshi Ram remains a true son of Bharat Mata, a soldier whose bravery reminds us that freedom and safety come at a cost far beyond comfort, and whose sacrifice continues to inspire generations.
War is never easy. It demands sacrifices that are impossible to measure, and it takes more than we can ever imagine. Countless soldiers like Grenadier Munshi Ram may even now be held as prisoners of war in foreign lands, their fate unknown, their courage unsung. At the young age of 25, Munshi Ram gave his entire life to the nation—a devotion so pure and selfless that words almost fail to describe it. How can I truly express the depth of a soldier’s sacrifice? How can anyone fully understand what it means to give one’s life so that others may live in freedom?
Yet, through his actions, we can feel the magnitude of his love for the country. Grenadier Munshi Ram stood tall, faced unimaginable danger, and protected others with unwavering bravery. Even in his absence, his courage continues to speak to us, reminding us of the cost of the independence and security we often take for granted. His sacrifice, like that of thousands of others, ensures that we can live under the open sky, free, safe, and able to celebrate life without fear.
This is the lesson I want every reader to take away: “All gave some, but some gave all.” Many soldiers fought, and many suffered, but a few, like Munshi Ram, gave everything. Their blood and courage built the foundation of our freedom, their absence echoing in the hearts of those who love them. Whenever we raise the Tricolour, whenever we speak freely, whenever we live without chains, it is because of the sons like Munshi Ram who stood, fought, and never returned.
So, let us remember. Let us feel. Let us honor them not just on national days, but every day because their sacrifice is the reason we can call this land ours, free and proud.
“Grenadier Munshi Ram – The Enigma Who Went Too Soon”
A granddaughter’s tribute to a hero she never met, but always carried.
— Mettali Rajput
~Jai Hind
