30/12/2025
This is **Arun Khetarpal**, a name etched forever in India’s military history. Just 21 years old, Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal displayed a level of courage that most can scarcely imagine. On December 16, 1971, during the **Indo-Pakistani War of 1971**, he fought on until his final breath—destroying four Pakistani tanks from his own burning tank and laying down his life in the line of duty.
During the war, Pakistan’s feared **13 Lancers**, equipped with American-made 50-ton Patton tanks, launched an aggressive attack. Facing them was India’s **17 Poona Horse**, operating British-made Centurion tanks dating back to the World War era. The regiment was divided into A and B Squadrons. When B Squadron came under heavy assault, they urgently called for reinforcement. Tanks from A Squadron moved forward to support them—and Arun Khetarpal was inside one of those tanks.
A brutal battle followed, stretching over several intense hours. B Squadron successfully destroyed seven Pakistani tanks, but the fight came at a heavy cost. Arun’s tank was hit directly by an enemy shell and caught fire. His commanding officer ordered him to abandon the tank immediately. Arun refused. Over the radio, he sent what would become his final message:
“No, Sir, I will not abandon my tank. My main gun is still working, and I will get these bastards.”
Moments later, the radio went silent.
From inside the blazing tank, Arun went on to destroy four Pakistani tanks, standing his ground under impossible conditions. Only one enemy tank remained, commanded by Lieutenant Nasser. The two tanks faced each other at a distance of barely 200 meters. Without hesitation, both fired simultaneously. The shells struck both tanks. Nasser managed to jump out in time. Arun did not. Trapped inside, he sustained a grievous abdominal wound and attained martyrdom at the battlefield.
Years later, in 2001, fate arranged a meeting that carried immense emotional weight. Brigadier Khetarpal, Arun’s father, visited Pakistan and met **Nasser**, now a brigadier. Nasser narrated what he had witnessed that day. He said Arun had stood “like a rock” against the Pakistani assault and that the final duel had been between the two of them. Quietly, he added words that transcended uniforms and borders:
“Your son was very brave. He alone was responsible for our defeat.”
When Brigadier Khetarpal asked how he knew it was Arun in that tank, Nasser explained that after the ceasefire, he had returned to recover the bodies of his men. He saw Indian soldiers collecting parts of the destroyed tank and asked who had fought him so fiercely. When he learned it was Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal, he asked whether the officer was injured. The reply came softly: “Sir, he has been martyred.” Later, Nasser learned that Arun was only 21.
As Nasser finished recounting the story, he lowered his gaze, staring silently at the grass. Brigadier Khetarpal remained seated, equally silent. A long, unbearable minute passed—heavy with grief, respect, and shared humanity. Then Brigadier Khetarpal stood up, looked at Nasser, and before tears could fall, pulled him into a tight embrace.
Some sacrifices are so profound that even enemies bow their heads.
Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal did not just fight a battle—he became a standard of courage for generations to come.
