Autobiography of a Param Vir
Capt (Hony)
YOGENDRA SINGH YADAV
An imprint of
Srishti Publishers & Distributors
Srishti Publishers & Distributors
A unit of AJR Publishing LLP
212A, Peacock Lane
Shahpur Jat, New Delhi 110 049
First published by Bold,
an imprint of Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2022
Copyright Capt Yogendra Singh Yadav, 2022
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This is a work of non-fiction based on the authors life and experiences in the Indian Army. While due care has been taken by the author and publisher to verify content at press time, any inadvertent miss that is brought to their notice shall be duly verified and updated subsequently. Actual names of people and places have been used with a view to provide first-hand information.
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.
Printed and bound in India
A note from the author
I have been extremely lucky to have met and be supported by all the right people in this lifetime. I wouldnt be here, if not for the support of my loved ones, friends and associates.
I am forever thankful to god for granting me this life. My mother, Smt Santara Devi and father, Sh Ramkaran Singh Yadav, always encouraged me to be a good person. It is their teachings and constant motivation that instilled confidence in me from a young age.
My heartfelt thanks to the Indian Army for showing me what it is to live and die for the nation. Gratitude to ADG PI for their support and guidance in bringing this book to you.
I thank all my fellows, jawans and officers at 18 Grenadiers for their love and support in the happiest and toughest of times.
And special thanks to all those dear friends who motivated me to write my life experiences in a book and kept me going.
I hope you enjoy reading my varied life experiences and the most pivotal event that changed my life forever.
Jai Hind!
Yogendra Singh Yadav
August 2022
Prologue
I was walking slowly along with my team, carefully scanning the entire area. The enemy could be anywhere. Who knew which rock could turn out to be the last one we crossed, or where the enemy sat, ready to pounce upon us. So we treaded carefully at every step.
We had not gone far when we started getting out of breath. The lack of oxygen at this altitude was crippling for the best of us. So we moved bit by bit, resting every now and then to catch our breath and stabilize our bodies.
In a few minutes, we came upon a cliff which seemed impossible to climb. It was imperative for us to go to the other side if we wished to reach Tiger Hill. We threw a rope up and it got stuck somewhere. Then we climbed up the rock, uphill along the steep climb, with the help of that rope. I was the first to pull myself on top of the cliff. Once there, I looked around, ensuring clear ground around me and carefully tied the rope to a cliff. Then the other jawans climbed up, helping each other.
The little sound made by our feet touching the rock and dislodging a few small stones in the process was rather loud in the deathly silent night. As the stones fell, they also made a piercing sound. At night when it is quiet all around, even a low sound sounds like a loud one.
I noticed that the sky had started getting lighter and guessed it was close to dawn. All of a sudden, the soldiers from the Pakistani bunkers on both sides of the cliff started firing at us. By that time, just about seven of us had managed to climb up. The rest were curtailed due to the heavy firing from both the sides.
Our route was now cut off. The rest of the party was unable to climb up. And those of us who were up there already, were unable to go either left or right. The seven of us climbed up further ahead and saw a large plain area. There were two bunkers right in front of us.
We took position and started firing. Within moments, we had managed to kill the Pakistani soldiers in those bunkers in direct, face to face firing. We could finally see the Tiger Hill ahead of us.
That plain was the enemys point of defense. In our quick recce of the area, we could estimate about a hundred and fifty Pakistani soldiers stationed around us. When they heard the sound of our firing, they also started firing at us very heavily.
Indian soldiers are not taught to step back, and in the given situation, moving forward meant sure death. We were surrounded on all sides. In such a situation, when death seems to be the only option, fear vanishes. After all, we were soldiers who had been living in the midst of heavy firing for quite some time now.
I was not afraid of death. All I prayed for now was to not die before winning back Tiger Hill.
Childhood Days
T here is a village in the Chaubisa region of the district of Bulandshahr called Aurangabad Ahir. Ramkaran used to farm his land and his wife Santara Devi helped in every possible way. They had a small family that worked hard tilling their land, giving their children the best possible facilities. I was born in this family on 10 May 1980.
I have grown up admiring my two brothers and father for their incredible qualities. My elder brother Jitendra Singh has been my idol ever since I started understanding the society around me. Devendra Singh is the younger one, who I love rather fondly. Our father is an ex-serviceman and our mother, a homemaker. Our parents raised us very well using what they earned by farming.
The three of us have seen our parents working extremely hard all through the year. Even when my father was away on duty, we would see him come back home on leave and spend most of his time tilling the land or harvesting the crops. In fact, he timed his leave as per the crop cycles to ensure that we got the best possible harvest.
So from a very young age, we helped our parents in all their work. In this way, we learned to do things together and made sure we had a comfortable life. The atmosphere at home was mostly jovial as, along with work, we had a good time. We were known as the happy lot all across the village. Along with a supportive family, we also had a bunch of loyal and loving friends.
I think such brotherhood and camaraderie has become a luxury these days as people are more need-driven and self- oriented. However, this was part and parcel of life in the village as the strong sense of community is entrenched in its inherent culture.
If you enter a village even today, you will see people sitting in groups, talking for hours, often bursting into loud laughter just as suddenly.
Evenings in villages are the perfect time to talk about what happened during the day while puffing at the hookah, going back to the days of childhood, discussing matters related to their homes, society and the country in general. Days started really early and time flew. The day was over before we even knew it.
