In April 2005, Lt. General Hanut Singh ascended to the heavens. My mailbox – like that of so many others in the serving and retired military fraternity – was flooded with emails about the man, who had acquired a legendary standing in the Indian army. I cannot recall any General, other than Field Marshall Sam Manekshaw, who received the kind of adulation and respect that General Hanut has received.
Many in the younger generation of officers may not have even heard of him. But for those who knew him, he was truly a man apart. A professional to the core, and an officer who feared neither his enemies nor his superiors; he simply had no equal in the army. He received fierce loyalty from those who served under him, especially so for his magical feel for military operations and the battlefield, but was scorned and reviled by lesser, even near incompetent cohort of big-talking cavalry generals, whom he chose to ignore.
Lt. Gen. Hanut Singh is perhaps the first officer, in independent India, to live and eventually die like a sanyasi. He passed away, while he sat erect in meditative dhyan, and was cremated in that position too!
Amongst today’s generation of officers he is perhaps less known because the likes of him aren’t encouraged in an army where few are allowed to stand up for their professional and personal beliefs, but instead are required to say and do all the right things to rise up the professional ladder. Those who admired him were unable to emulate him and therefore Hanut Singh’s conduct and style of command will remain an enigma. And for those of us who knew about the General and served during his time, he clearly stood apart.
Tall and lean with piercing eyes and an impressive moustache, Hanut Singh came from Jasol, near Jodhpur in Rajasthan, from a family of Cavalry Officers. A product of Colonel Brown’s school, JSW and IMA, he chose to join the Poona Horse, and eventually became its most iconic officer. From his youngest days he was totally committed to life in the Army and at some stage took to meditation for long hours every day. He spent, from what we know, very little time if at all, in frivolous activities that were part of peacetime soldiering in the army.
Instead, when not undertaking professional and regimental duties, he would either immerse himself in reading books on matters military or pray and meditate to enhance his spiritual quotient. His professional skills ensured his steady rise in rank, and his moral standing inspired all. But, perhaps his most memorable professional moment came during the1971 war when he was in command of the Poona Horse during the battle of Basantar. In so many ways, he had prepared himself and his Regiment, for this moment, all his life.
Hanut Singh and his many tales
As the battle raged across the Basantar Nadi, Lt. Col. Hanut apparently became irritated by the constant needling by his brigade commander, and so shut off radio communication with him, to concentrate on the battle in front. At some stage thereafter, the leading tanks of Poona Horse reported a minefield (in one of which was, 2/Lt Arun Khetrapal, who eventually earned the PVC). Legend has it that, having received the contact report of the action being taken by his leading tanks, Lt.Col Hanut Singh apparently ordered on the radio set of his Regimental net, that there would be no transmissions until he would revert with instructions.
As the battle ensued, Hanut Singh apparently meditated in his tank to seek ‘Divine’ intervention. Some 10-15 minutes later, he came back on the radio net and announced that all his tanks should go forward regardless of the threat of the minefield. It is said, that his Regiment went through the minefield, without any casualties.! Once on the other side they engaged in battle with Pakistani tanks, and in the words of one historian, they “demoralised and then demolished the opposition”. Poona Horse was bestowed the title of ‘Fakr-e-Hind’ from its Pakistani opponents, and Lt.Col Hanut Singh, the Maha Vir Chakra.
As the battle raged across the Basantar Nadi, Lt. Col. Hanut apparently became irritated by the constant needling by his brigade commander, and so shut off radio communication with him, to concentrate on the battle in front.
But there is a story to his MVC, as well. True to his style, he first refused the award, and only relented to accept his MVC, when the army’s brass hats pleaded that he accept his MVC since his brigade commander – who wasn’t quite in the thick of the action – had managed to get a bar to his MVC in the 1971 war. In fact, amongst those who know, this same brigadier had also claimed credit for his role in the Battle of Chakra, that was purely an infantry operation.
In reality, he and his tanks reached the site after Chakra had been captured! But unlike him, Hanut Singh refused to wear his MVC – apparently, even his official portrait at Ahmadnagar doesn’t have the MVC on his chest – and when asked by a Chief in one his postings at Army headquarters ( at MO Directorate), why he wasn’t wearing his MVC, he apparently replied: “ since there are many contestable MVCs around, I prefer not to wear mine, Sir’.
Meeting the legend
My exposure to the legend of Hanut Singh happened by chance, in the autumn of 1985, when I had the opportunity to visit the Officer’s mess of the Poona Horse, (with my good friend and his nephew, then Capt. Shambhoo Deora of 10 Para). As I was looking around with curiosity at their large collection that told of this Regiment’s glorious past, I chanced upon a momento that Hanut Singh had left for the Regiment.
And three decades later, I can still recall that it was a hand rising above a flame, and inscribed below it were these words: “This hand symbolises for me as the hand of Brahama in the Abhyam Mudra, reminding Poona Horsemen of his eternal promise, that when I am there beside you, then what is there to fear.” Below that were the words, “presented by Lt Col. Hanut Singh on relinquishing command, 1973”. (This is written from purely from my memory so I may be forgiven by Poona Horsemen for transcribing). But as that memento and what was inscribed on it, had a huge impact on me, I began to inquire about the ‘legend that was Hanut Singh’.
My exposure to the legend of Hanut Singh happened by chance, in the autumn of 1985, when I had the opportunity to visit the Officer’s mess of the Poona Horse
As luck would have it, a few days later, I had my first interaction with Lt. General Hanut Singh at the Pokhran field firing ranges ahead of Jodhpur, when I was at short notice, asked to guide him – as he drove down from the Pokhran helipad – to witness the field firing of my brigade. Having heard so much about the man, I was very keen to see him in person, as I stood on that narrow and desolate road with wide stretches of desert sand all around under a kikar tree!
Soon at a distance, I saw one solitary Jonga approaching me, with a flag and a star plate. As the Jonga neared I waived it to a stop, and smartly saluted the general, then GoC 2 Corps. I then requested him to follow me, which he did, apparently with a smile. But being a master at tank gunnery, he wasn’t happy with what he saw. And hours later when he left the range, he had left many military reputations shattered.
General Hanut rose in rank even though he abhorred the culture of sycophancy that had taken roots in the Indian Army. He commanded all the key mechanised formations – 14 (Indep) Armoured Brigade, 1 Armoured Div, and 2 Corps – though he was denied the command of an army (and perhaps even the chance to be chief).
Instead, he was appointed Commandant of the Armoured Corps School (ACC&S), at Ahmednagar. Here he devoted his professional skills in shaping the doctrines that continue to hold relevance for tank warfare for the Indian army, even now. And it was at Ahmednagar, in 1990, that I finally had the occasion to get to know the General – perhaps India’s greatest tank commander – a little more, at a brief stint, I had at the MIRC.
One evening, as I sat reading a magazine in the Mess, I was informed that two officers had come looking for me. It turned out, that they were then Captain Nar Singh, a classmate from school and of the Poona Horse, and Captain Shamboo Singh of 10 Para who was General Hanut’s nephew. We soon decided to step out for dinner. And as I did not meet them for long I was engrossed in conversation with them until I suddenly saw that our vehicle was entering the house of the Commandant ACC& S. Taken aback, I asked what were we going in there for, and I was told, that dinner was to be there.
Lt. Gen. Hanut Singh is perhaps the first officer, in independent India, to live and eventually die like a sanyasi. He passed away, while he sat erect in meditative dhyan, and was cremated in that position too!
Clearly I hadn’t quite prepared myself for this surprise. What was even more surprising for me, was to see General Hanut sitting in an all-white attire – long kurta and a dhoti – with a string of beads around his neck, and a white shawl on his shoulders, looking every bit a sanyasi that he was, when not in uniform. Behind him was a large oil painting of a cavalry charge.
I was introduced to the General and was informed that I was soon heading to London for higher studies. The General then asked, “why to England, Raza?” To this question, I replied that I had always wanted to study in England and now having completed the JC course, I had the time before the next mandatory course (perhaps the SC course), that I would have to possibly attend. And then, I just went on to add, that: “I want to equip myself with qualifications that could assist me to find a job once I would be sacked from the army”.
This caught everyone by surprise. But General Hanut Singh just smiled and asked, “…and why would you be sacked, Raza?”. To which I responded as a matter of fact, that, “as I was increasingly finding it difficult to respect many of the senior officers under whom I was being asked to serve, I knew I would soon be shown the door by the army.” The left everyone in the room stunned. A short silence followed. But then General Hanut smiled and said to me “I like you, Raza. At least somebody speaks the truth”.
A deeper bond
From then on, I was in my elements. We began to talk about books, as dinner was being laid, and somehow the conversation shifted to David Niven’s “The Moon’s a Baloon”. I think I was reading it those days. And to my surprise, the General Hanut Singh had read it too, and he even quoted some amusing parts from it, like the one about Niven’s senior subaltern and the ‘dipsomaniacs delight’. And when I went off to England, the General and I used to exchange handwritten letters for a while. Among other things, he was a wildlife enthusiast.
And at his request, I had sent Lt General Hanut Singh, a documentary on the Indian tiger by Arjun Singh. This was delivered to the Delhi home of Mr Jaswant Singh, his cousin, and an equally iconic figure, a soldier, scholar and an eminent politician. I lost touch with the General after he retired to his cottage near Dehradun, and to a life of a hermit. It was here that he lived most of his final years, a life of prayer and piety, till his last day. In his passing away, I salute him and his memory.
This story was earlier published in FAUJI INDIA in 2015.
