raiders were closing in on Baramulla with Badgam on route. That was where a bloody battle would be fought and the brave young officer would bring home the first Param Vir Chakra of independent India.
Somi’s life story is often quoted in books and Army messes. It is a tale of sheer courage and glory. The example set by him is recounted with a lot of respect and he is fondly remembered not only by 4 Kumaon but the entire armed forces. To ensure that young soldiers continue to be inspired by his bravery, the training ground at the Kumaon Regimental Centre in Ranikhet has been named Somnath Sharma Ground. A beautiful red brick gateway called Somnath Dwar leads to the perfectly maintained parade ground, flanked by the snow-capped Himalayas. The ground has seen the sweat and toil of thousands of young boys, new recruits of the Kumaon Regiment and the Naga Regiments, who take their first step as young soldiers here.
Sahayak:
Karam Singh
Richhmar Gali, Kashmir 13 October 1948
The Sikh soldier peering out of the trench looks worried. ‘Dushman nedhe si. Assi tinn see, tey chautha tu—hun kee kariye?’ (The enemy has come close. We are just three, and you are the fourth—what do we do?) he whispers to his section commander Lance Naik Karam Singh, who is standing beside him, still and ramrod straight.
Karam Singh is a handsome Sikh, more than six feet tall. A proud upturned moustache and dark beard lend him a dark, brooding appearance. He is holding a. 303 rifle. His trousers are soaked with blood from the injuries he has been subjected to in the earlier gunfight. He and his men have been able to beat back the first attack from the Pakistanis, but the enemy is back with renewed vigour.
Karam Singh does not answer. His eyes are narrowed in concentration. He is watching the armed Pakistani soldiers advancing towards his outpost. There are just four men in his section and they have already been under intense shelling. All of them are bleeding from bullet as well as splintering rock hits from continuous artillery shelling by the enemy.
He looks at the gun is in his hands but he knows there are too many of them for gunfire to be effective. Besides, he is running short of ammunition and since there is continuous shelling there is no way to get more from the main company position, which is far behind. The enemy soldiers have come closer.
Karam Singh reaches into his backpack and, pulling out a grenade, bites the pin off with his teeth. Swinging his arm in a wide half-circle he flings it at them with the war cry of ‘Jo bole so nihal, sat Sri Akaal’.
The physical strain of the muscle movement runs right down to his leg and he winces in pain, but he does not take his eyes off the arc of the grenade flying through the air.
It lands right in the path of the first row of advancing soldiers and a loud blast echoes through Richhmar Gali. Some of the men fall, screaming in pain; the others have lost their composure.
It is only then that Karam Singh turns to look at the tense, mud-stained faces of his tired and injured comrades and smiles. Jadon assi ithe jaan de dange tan saddi keemat wadh jaavegi,’ (If we die fighting, we will always be remembered) he says, his voice firm. ‘Sade piche bathere ne ladanwaale. Saari company sade piche hai.’ (There are many who will continue the fight after we die) With that, he rummages in his backpack for another grenade, removes the pin and tosses it at those of the enemy soldiers who are still advancing. Another deadly blast rents the air.
Lance Naik Karam Singh was commanding an Alpha Company outpost at Richhmar Gali when around 6 a. m. on 13 October 1948 his section came under a do-or-die attack from the Pakistanis. It was Id, and the Pakistanis had launched a desperate attack to win back the area they had lost to the Indian Army. Karam Singh and his men were completely outnumbered, but they refused to be cowed down by the enemy whose aim was to recapture Richhmar Gali, skirt Tithwal
Somi’s life story is often quoted in books and Army messes. It is a tale of sheer courage and glory. The example set by him is recounted with a lot of respect and he is fondly remembered not only by 4 Kumaon but the entire armed forces. To ensure that young soldiers continue to be inspired by his bravery, the training ground at the Kumaon Regimental Centre in Ranikhet has been named Somnath Sharma Ground. A beautiful red brick gateway called Somnath Dwar leads to the perfectly maintained parade ground, flanked by the snow-capped Himalayas. The ground has seen the sweat and toil of thousands of young boys, new recruits of the Kumaon Regiment and the Naga Regiments, who take their first step as young soldiers here.
Sahayak:
Karam Singh
Richhmar Gali, Kashmir 13 October 1948
The Sikh soldier peering out of the trench looks worried. ‘Dushman nedhe si. Assi tinn see, tey chautha tu—hun kee kariye?’ (The enemy has come close. We are just three, and you are the fourth—what do we do?) he whispers to his section commander Lance Naik Karam Singh, who is standing beside him, still and ramrod straight.
Karam Singh is a handsome Sikh, more than six feet tall. A proud upturned moustache and dark beard lend him a dark, brooding appearance. He is holding a. 303 rifle. His trousers are soaked with blood from the injuries he has been subjected to in the earlier gunfight. He and his men have been able to beat back the first attack from the Pakistanis, but the enemy is back with renewed vigour.
Karam Singh does not answer. His eyes are narrowed in concentration. He is watching the armed Pakistani soldiers advancing towards his outpost. There are just four men in his section and they have already been under intense shelling. All of them are bleeding from bullet as well as splintering rock hits from continuous artillery shelling by the enemy.
He looks at the gun is in his hands but he knows there are too many of them for gunfire to be effective. Besides, he is running short of ammunition and since there is continuous shelling there is no way to get more from the main company position, which is far behind. The enemy soldiers have come closer.
Karam Singh reaches into his backpack and, pulling out a grenade, bites the pin off with his teeth. Swinging his arm in a wide half-circle he flings it at them with the war cry of ‘Jo bole so nihal, sat Sri Akaal’.
The physical strain of the muscle movement runs right down to his leg and he winces in pain, but he does not take his eyes off the arc of the grenade flying through the air.
It lands right in the path of the first row of advancing soldiers and a loud blast echoes through Richhmar Gali. Some of the men fall, screaming in pain; the others have lost their composure.
It is only then that Karam Singh turns to look at the tense, mud-stained faces of his tired and injured comrades and smiles. Jadon assi ithe jaan de dange tan saddi keemat wadh jaavegi,’ (If we die fighting, we will always be remembered) he says, his voice firm. ‘Sade piche bathere ne ladanwaale. Saari company sade piche hai.’ (There are many who will continue the fight after we die) With that, he rummages in his backpack for another grenade, removes the pin and tosses it at those of the enemy soldiers who are still advancing. Another deadly blast rents the air.
Lance Naik Karam Singh was commanding an Alpha Company outpost at Richhmar Gali when around 6 a. m. on 13 October 1948 his section came under a do-or-die attack from the Pakistanis. It was Id, and the Pakistanis had launched a desperate attack to win back the area they had lost to the Indian Army. Karam Singh and his men were completely outnumbered, but they refused to be cowed down by the enemy whose aim was to recapture Richhmar Gali, skirt Tithwal
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