From the Trenches to Gallipoli: Books That Chronicle the Indian Army in World War I

George Morton-Jack’s The Indian Empire at War is perhaps the most comprehensive modern account of India’s role in World War I. Based on newly discovered archives, letters, and memoirs, Morton-Jack reconstructs the experiences of over a million Indian soldiers and labourers who served in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East.

What makes this book remarkable is its balance between macro and micro history. Morton-Jack does not merely recount battles; he humanises them through the voices of sepoys who wrote home in Punjabi, Urdu, and Hindi. We see Indian cavalrymen charging through Belgian mud, mule drivers trudging under shellfire, and doctors tending the wounded in makeshift hospitals. The book paints the Indian Army not as a faceless imperial force, but as a mosaic of individual stories—men caught between loyalty, pride, and the colonial politics of race and empire.

In Morton-Jack’s telling, India’s contribution is not ancillary—it’s essential. The empire’s fate in the early years of the war, he reminds us, depended on these soldiers from Punjab, Garhwal, and Bengal, who fought for a King they had never seen and a cause they scarcely understood.

The Bravest of the Brave by Maj Gen Ian Cardozo, AVSM, SM, celebrates the exceptional courage of the eleven Indian soldiers who were awarded the Victoria Cross (VC) during the First World War. Drawing on regimental histories and wartime dispatches, Cardozo’s narrative captures both the chaos of combat and the quiet dignity of men who stood their ground against overwhelming odds.

From Khudadad Khan, the first Indian to receive the VC for his defence at Hollebeke, to Mir Dast and Darwan Singh Negi, Cardozo immortalises acts of bravery that might have faded into obscurity. His tone is that of a soldier-scholar—meticulous yet deeply empathetic. These stories aren’t just about heroism; they’re about faith, brotherhood, and the Indian warrior spirit that transcended empire.

Cardozo’s work stands as a tribute to individual gallantry and as a reminder that courage in war knows no nationality. It’s an indispensable companion to the grander narratives of the Great War.

Though not an Indian soldier, Siegfried Sassoon’s Memoirs of an Infantry Officer occupies a unique place in this collection because of its honest depiction of trench warfare—the very world into which Indian troops were thrust. Published as part of the Fauji Days’ Military Classics series, the book chronicles Sassoon’s psychological journey from patriotism to disillusionment.

Through Sassoon’s eyes, readers glimpse the mud, fear, and moral confusion that defined the Western Front. When read alongside accounts of Indian soldiers in Flanders, his work becomes a mirror—a reflection of shared suffering and the universality of trauma. Indian troops, though separated by language and empire, fought and died in the same shell-torn fields, their bravery matching that of their British comrades, even if their stories were rarely told with the same weight.

Talbot Mundy’s Hira Singh is a rare early fictional account that centres on an Indian protagonist in the European theatre of war. Written in 1917, it follows a fictional Sikh officer and his men as they fight in Flanders and struggle through captivity and escape. Though a work of fiction, Hira Singh offers valuable insight into contemporary perceptions of the Indian soldier—noble, loyal, and indomitable, yet often romanticised.

Reissued as part of the Fauji Days’ Military Classics, the novel has historical value not merely as literature, but as a cultural artefact. It captures the fascination and admiration with which Indian troops were viewed, even by Western writers of the time. It provides a fascinating lens through which to study imperial attitudes and the mythmaking of wartime propaganda.

Tejinder Hundal’s We Too Were There is perhaps the most evocative exploration of India’s involvement in the Gallipoli campaign—a tragic episode often told through Australian and New Zealand eyes. Hundal restores the Indian presence to this narrative, weaving together letters, diaries, and official war records to reveal how Indian troops fought, suffered, and died on the same beaches that became ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) legend.

Hundal’s book is both corrective and commemorative. He exposes the colonial erasure that followed the war, where Indian contributions were systematically minimised, and resurrects the sepoys who fought side by side with Australians and New Zealanders. The title itself is a quiet declaration of presence—an assertion that history’s margins must be redrawn.

Shiv Kunal Verma’s Yodha-2 is a sweeping visual and textual chronicle of India’s military evolution, and its coverage of World War I is particularly striking. Through photographs, maps, and concise commentary, Verma places the war within the continuum of India’s martial history—from colonial subjugation to independence.

The book’s strength lies in its visual storytelling. Archival photographs of turbaned infantrymen in the trenches, of mule caravans snaking through the desert, of sepoy regiments saluting the Union Jack—all come alive on the page. Verma’s work reminds readers that India’s military legacy is neither borrowed nor incidental; it is built on the sacrifices of those who fought under foreign command but carried an undying sense of honour.

Among the most intimate and human accounts of the war is The First World War Adventures of Nariman Karkaria, a memoir edited by his son, Murali Karkaria. Nariman Karkaria, a young Parsi volunteer, served with the British Indian Army in Mesopotamia and Europe. His recollections—first recorded in Gujarati—offer a rare first-person Indian perspective of the war.

Karkaria’s tone is unassuming, even humorous at times, yet his story captures the cultural dislocation of a soldier navigating Europe’s battlefields and post-war Europe. His journey is one of adventure, survival, and awakening—a young man who returns home changed not just by war, but by the realisation of India’s place in a world at war.

Together, these books form a tapestry of memory—historical, literary, and deeply human. They rescue Indian soldiers from the footnotes of empire and place them at the heart of the Great War’s story. Whether through the analytical depth of Morton-Jack, the reverent storytelling of Cardozo, or the personal warmth of Karkaria, each work reminds us that the Indian Army’s contribution to World War I was not merely one of numbers—it was one of spirit.

From the trenches of Flanders to the beaches of Gallipoli, Indian soldiers carried courage across continents. Their journey, long obscured by imperial narratives, now stands illuminated through these books—a legacy not just of war, but of remembrance.

Also read: Of Fauji Days on the Battlefront: Love, Letters & Soldiers