Dr Jasbir Singh Sarna
Brigadier Pritam Singh’s life reads like an epic of fortitude and fallibility—a saga etched not only in the annals of India’s military history but also in the ever-conflicted conscience of a postcolonial nation still learning to remember its heroes with nuance. Hailed as the savior of Poonch during the fraught and fiery days of the 1947–1948 Indo-Pakistani War, Singh embodied the best and the burdens of a soldier’s calling. His battlefield brilliance, however, was shadowed by personal controversy, rendering his legacy both luminous and labyrinthine.
Born in the pastoral folds of Dina Village in Punjab’s Ferozepur district on 5 October 1911, Pritam Singh entered the British Indian Army with a courage that would define—and later complicate—his story. Commissioned into the 4/19 Hyderabad Regiment (which would become the 4 Kumaon), Singh’s valor first etched itself onto the collective memory during World War II. He was taken prisoner by the Japanese after the fall of Singapore in 1942. Where many resigned to captivity, Singh escaped. Traversing through a hostile and unforgiving Southeast Asian terrain, he emerged in India after six months—battered but unbroken. For this indelible act of survival and fortitude, he was decorated with the Military Cross, a precursor to the chapters of glory and disgrace yet to unfold.
If the war forged his mettle, it was the siege of Poonch that would immortalize his name in the folklore of Jammu and Kashmir. As Pakistan’s irregular tribal forces descended into Kashmir under ‘Operation Gulmarg’, Singh, then a Lieutenant Colonel, was deployed to the remote and besieged town of Poonch. It was November 1947. The town was encircled, with over 60, 000 refugees crammed within its defensive perimeter—civilians fleeing the specter of communal slaughter. Singh arrived not to retreat but to resist. He reorganized the scattered forces, rallied the local populace into a makeshift militia, and oversaw the construction of a rudimentary airstrip amid relentless enemy shelling. This allowed for critical air supplies and evacuations, and established a lifeline to the Indian mainland. The siege endured for almost a year, a crucible of attrition and courage. It ended with the success of Operation Easy in November 1948, when Indian forces broke through the surrounding hills and relieved the town. In those dark months, Singh’s defiance had kept the flame of Poonch alive. To the people he became “Sher Bachha”—the Tiger’s Cub. His tactical acumen and emotional resolve turned what could have been a forgotten outpost into a symbol of India’s dogged sovereignty.
Yet, history is seldom kind to those who defy both their enemies and their superiors. Despite being lauded as a war hero, Singh’s later years were marred by allegations that seemed incongruous with his military record. In 1951, he was court-martialed on charges of misappropriating valuables from the Moti Mahal, the erstwhile palace of the Raja of Poonch. The trial, steeped in bureaucratic murk and institutional mistrust, led to his dismissal from the army. Whether Singh was guilty or merely scapegoated in a power play remains a matter of speculation and scholarly discord. His post-military life faded into obscurity—a once-lionized figure reduced to a footnote, spoken of in hushed tones or passed over in silence.
Recent decades, however, have seen a tentative resurrection of Brigadier Singh’s memory. Efforts to reclaim his place in history have emerged in the form of documentaries and books. The Saviour: Brig. Pritam Singh (2021), a Punjabi docudrama, poignantly revisits his days in Poonch, dramatizing his courage while hinting at the costs of his convictions.
Similarly, The POW Who Saved Kashmir, a meticulously researched book, paints a portrait of Singh that goes beyond the binary of hero or heretic. These works suggest that history’s verdict is never final—it evolves with the generations that inherit it.
In reflecting upon Brigadier Pritam Singh, one is reminded that valor, like memory, is seldom unblemished. His legacy demands that we look beyond the simple narratives of glory or disgrace. In him resided both the strength to defend a nation and the vulnerability to be broken by it. As India continues to explore the margins of its post-independence military history, Singh’s life calls not merely for commemoration, but for contemplation—of how nations build, forget, and sometimes rediscover their heroes.