Enter the Indian Military Academy in Dehradun and pride hangs heavy in the air. You feel it before anyone says a word. You hear it before you see them, the cadets shouting “ek, do, ek”, the rhythm of their voices matching the thud of their boots against the ground, their shoulders squared, their eyes fixed ahead. This is where courage is shaped. Where boys are taught to become officers who may one day give everything for the nation, without flinching.So when we were taken to the Khetarpal Auditorium inside IMA, the emotion was indescribable. For many Indians today, the name Arun Khetarpal has resurfaced because of the film Ikkis featuring Agastya Nanda, late actor Dharmendra and Jaideep Ahlawat among others. But for army aspirants, serving officers and even
veterans, Arun Khetarpal never faded into history. He is not a character or a story, he is a benchmark.Because on one defining day during the 1971 Indo-Pak war, a 21-year-old Second Lieutenant showed what it truly means to stand your ground.
The Day a 21-Year-Old Changed the Course of a War
Just months after passing out of the iconic IMA, Arun Khetarpal was posted to the 17 Poona Horse, one of the Indian Army’s most storied armoured regiments, with a legacy spanning over 200 years. During the war, his regiment formed part of the 47th Infantry Brigade, tasked with securing a bridgehead across the Basantar river. It was a high-risk, high-stakes operation. Lose that ground and the enemy would pour through. The Pakistani Army knew this too.
As the battle unfolded, it was the tank crews who bore the brunt of the assault. Arun Khetarpal’s Centurion tank was positioned on the left flank when he spotted a spearhead of five Pakistani Patton tanks attempting to ford a rivulet. There was no time to wait and no room for hesitation.Khetarpal moved his tank into an exposed position deliberately. His 20-pounder gun spat fire as he took on the enemy head-on. In a hail of shellfire, he knocked out the lead Patton with a point-blank shot straight into its turret. Then he destroyed two more tanks in rapid succession.Eyewitnesses described that scene in awe. Arun Khetarpal’s tank was firing, reloading, advancing and relentless. By noon, he had single-handedly accounted for four confirmed kills. A fifth Patton was left burning, abandoned by its crew. His actions shattered the Pakistani formation and bought time for Indian reinforcements to move in. But the battle was far from over.As the enemy regrouped, a Patton’s 90mm shell struck Khetarpal’s Centurion in the engine compartment. Flames erupted and smoke filled the tank. His commander ordered him to evacuate immediately and what followed became legend.When his commander ordered him to evacuate the burning tank, Arun Khetarpal’s response travelled over the radio and straight into military history. “No sir! I will not abandon my tank. My main gun is still working and I will get these b**tards.”
Those were his final words spoken in the middle of battle, with his tank on fire. Decades later, the line has found new life through the trailer of Ikkis, echoing across living rooms and phone screens. But for the Indian Army, for those who train at IMA and those who wear the uniform, it has always stood as a defining moment, not because it sounds dramatic but because it was lived exactly as it was spoken.Moments later, even as his tank burned, he fired one final shot before his Centurion was hit again. Arun Khetarpal was killed in action still at his post fighting.By the end of the Battle of Basantar, Pakistan had lost 46 tanks, including 38 Pattons. India lost 14 Centurions. It was the second-largest tank battle since World War II, after the Battle of Asal Uttar. But numbers alone cannot capture what that day meant.Had Arun Khetarpal not held the line at Basantar, Pakistani forces could have cut off Jammu and Kashmir from the rest of India. That single breakthrough would have handed Pakistan a massive strategic advantage, prolonged the war on the western front, and weakened India’s position at a time when it was also pushing decisively for the creation of Bangladesh. His stand didn’t just stop tanks, it stopped a turning point from tipping the wrong way.
The Valour That Defined a Legacy
When news of his sacrifice reached Delhi, then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi wrote a handwritten letter to his father, Brigadier Khetarpal.
Brigadier Khetarpal was himself a retired army engineer, a World War II veteran, and a man who had served in the Indo-Pak wars of 1948 and 1965. But the Khetarpal legacy stretched even further back. Arun’s grandfather had fought in World War I. His great-grandfather had served in the Sikh Khalsa Army in the 19th century. Four generations that were shaped by service, sacrifice and duty.Arun Khetarpal didn’t just inherit that legacy, he lived it and sealed it, at 21. Today, when his last words echo through movie trailers and memorial halls alike, they are not just lines from history. They are reminders of what one young officer, trained at IMA, backed by generations of soldiers before him did when the nation needed him most. He did not step back. And because of that, history moved forward.