House of warriors

Death is not new to the family. Nihal’s brother was also 32 when he was crushed to death under the tank he was helping a fellow soldier reverse. But that freak accident didn’t stop Nihal from sending his son to serve the fauj.

An unflinching loyalty to the armed forces is common to the residents of Nathowal, a sentiment that has earned it the title of ‘faujian da pind’. Tucked away in a corner of Jagraon district amidst acres and acres of emerald fields, this village grows a bumper crop of soldiers even in this season of scarcity. Figures speak volumes: the village brags 250 soldiers— around 16 of them stationed at J-K—and as many ex-servicemen.

It was at the turn of the last century that Rattan Singh from the village was commissioned in the British Army. Lore has it that as he lay dying in the battlefield in France, his commanding officer asked him to make a wish. The soldier sought a school and post office for his village.

That set a tradition which is still going strong. Knock at any of the 600-odd homes, and chances are that you will find several generations of soldiers under one roof. Brig Sarbang Singh (retd), a Santa Claus slimmed down, beams as he shows you the rich haul of medals made by his father, late Capt Rur Singh — the Indian Order of Merit (IOM) in 1935 followed by Member of British Empire (MBE) and the title of Sirdar Bahadur (SB). His uncle too was in the army as was his cousin Brig Sampuran Singh, who bagged both Maha Vir Chakra (MVC) and Vir Chakra (VC).

Now his younger daughter is married to an Army officer and his nephew, Sub Gurcharan Singh (retd), is leading the drive to prepare a roll of the village armymen.

‘‘Ithe it puto taan subedar milde ne,’’ grins Sub Gurcharan, who says it’s still martial rule here. Maj Gurdev Singh (retd) attributes it to lack of alternatives. ‘‘It’s the only field where you don’t need to bribe your way.’’

Sarpanch Kirpal Singh says it’s also partly due to Hony Lt Hamir Singh, a recruitment officer who guided the village youth over a period of 10 years in the ’70s. But more than anything else, it’s the dashing uniform and promise of chivalry that continue to hook the youth. Naik Harjinder Pal Singh of 2 Sikh LI, who is home on leave, agrees. ‘‘The very idea of two-month annual leave bowls over many,’’ he grins.

Tales of martyrdom also inspire. The number of youth wanting to join the Army surged after the Kargil war in which they lost Naik Kuldip Singh of 10 Sikh LI. And then there are Army wives who also spread the good word. Gurdev Kaur, wife of Capt Amarjit Singh (retd), says it was the best time of her life. ‘‘I enjoyed every bit of my stay, especially in Mumbai and Pune.’’

The fauji touch shows: the village streets are clean, the houses have well-appointed living rooms, and pedigree pets are de rigueur. Though the soldiers are chary of politics—they seldom contest the panchayat poll— they participate in social work.

Although pushing 80, Brig Sarbang runs a homoeopathic dispensary. Havaldar Sewak Singh (retd) is the pointman for faujis in distress. ‘‘He is also our official spokesperson,’’ says Sub Gurcharan as Sewak reels out the long list of martyrs and gallantry awardees from the village, which also snagged the highest number of war jagirs after the ’71 war.

Now with an ex-soldier at the helm of the state, the fauji pind has just one wish: recruitment at their doorstep. And yes, some wouldn’t mind a Mess either.