In the crowded annals of World War II, the story of Major Chint Singh IC5802 of the 2nd Dogra Regiment shines as a rare reminder of comradeship across borders. His life is not only a testament to survival against overwhelming odds but also a tribute to the unlikely friendship forged between Indian and Australian soldiers amid the brutality of war. At the heart of this story lies the value of mateship— a uniquely Australian expression of loyalty, trust, and mutual respect.
For Maj. Singh and his men, it was not merely a wartime sentiment but a lifeline that transcended cultures, languages, and continents. The book Major Chint Singh – The Man Who Should Have Died, written by his son Narinder Parmar, preserves this remarkable tale of endurance and fellowship.
One of the most overlooked chapters of the Second World War unfolded in the jungles of Papua New Guinea (PNG). Around 3,000 Indian soldiers were transported there by the Japanese after the fall of Singapore. By the end of the war, only 200 survived. The rest—nearly 2,800— succumbed to hunger, disease, and cruelty in captivity. They survived on grass, snakes, frogs, and insects. Yet even in these conditions, they clung to military discipline and soldierly honour.
Major Chint Singh emerged as one of the few who not only endured but also inspired others. His leadership and strength of character kept a small group of men alive until September 1945, when Australian forces arrived—setting the stage for a bond that would outlast the war itself.
On 30 September 1945, Lieutenant F.O. Monk of the Australian Army first encountered Maj. Singh and his surviving soldiers. Emaciated but unbroken, they reported to him in perfect military decorum. The moment left Monk deeply moved. He later wrote: “I will never forget the picture of you and your men as you all came ashore at Angoram. It will be with me as long as I live.”
The Australians quickly arranged for their care. Transported by the Navy to Wewak, the survivors received medical attention from the 15th Australian Field Ambulance. Australian medics and soldiers not only treated their wounds but extended small, humane gestures—writing letters home on behalf of the men and ensuring they felt safe after years of brutality. An Australian nurse, Sister Murch, became a beloved figure among the Indians for her compassion.
Even as hope returned, tragedy struck. Ten Indian soldiers who were scheduled to return home perished in a plane crash near Rabaul on 16 November 1945. Maj. Singh, held back to testify before the Australian War Crimes Commission, was devastated. During this period, he grew even closer to the Australians, sharing quarters and duties with Captain Bruce of the 30th Infantry Battalion.
The bond had moved from gratitude to genuine kinship. When Maj. Singh finally prepared to depart in January 1946, his farewell letter to the 6th Australian Division encapsulated the depth of the relationship: “The sympathy, love, and affection shown by every individual of the Division will always be with us… hoping that the friendship of your country and India will continue for all the time.” This letter, preserved in the archives of the Australian War Memorial, stands as a rare and moving testament to wartime solidarity.
Major Singh was later invited to sign the Japanese surrender flag—an honour reserved for those who had played a significant role in the Pacific theatre. Today, the flag is displayed at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra, carrying his name alongside others who bore witness to Japan’s defeat. Over the years, Maj. Singh remained etched in the memories of Australian veterans. Sgt. Eric Sparke, who wrote about Maj. Singh, shared his story with his family, ensuring that the legacy of Indo-Australian wartime friendship did not fade.
Maj. Singh himself returned to Australia in 1947 to assist once more with the War Crimes Commission. He was warmly welcomed by officers and their families, and even introduced to Field Marshal Montgomery by Maj Gen Whitelaw in Perth. In 1970, he returned again, this time as a guest of honour at the 25th anniversary of the end of the war. Retracing his steps in Papua New Guinea, he paid homage to fallen comrades and reconnected with the Australians who had once nursed him and his men back to life.
In 1971, the Returned and Services League (RSL) erected a memorial in Angoram, PNG, in honour of the 2,800 Indian soldiers who never returned. Though the monument was later lost to floods, it stood briefly as a symbol of shared sacrifice. Decades later, the mission to memorialise these men continues. In 2022, Singh’s son Narinder Parmar proposed a permanent monument in Canberra to the Australian High Commission in New Delhi.
The idea draws inspiration from other Indian memorials abroad, such as NeuveChapelle in France, and seeks to anchor the story of Indo-Australian wartime friendship in the heart of Australia’s capital. Such a memorial would serve not just as a tribute to the fallen, but as a bridge for the growing Indian diaspora in Australia—linking them to a shared history of courage, loss, and solidarity.
The story of Major Chint Singh rises above the particulars of war. It speaks to values that remain timeless: loyalty, resilience, and the ability to see humanity even in strangers. These were the values that defined the mateship between Indians and Australians in 1945, and they remain relevant in the Indo-Pacific region today, where India and Australia once again find themselves as partners navigating turbulent waters.
Remembering Maj. Singh and his men is not just an act of historical justice—it is a reminder that international ties are not forged only in boardrooms and treaties, but also in the mud, blood, and sacrifice of ordinary soldiers. Let their story be told, their courage remembered, and their mateship honoured. For in remembering, nations do more than preserve history—they keep alive the values that make history worth preserving.
Ashish Singh is an awardwinning senior journalist with over 18 years of experience in defence and strategic affairs
