Fauji on the Peaks: Tales of Adventure, Endurance, and Army Mountaineers

For a soldier, the mountains are not unfamiliar terrain. The Himalayas have long been both guardian and battleground, where training, survival, and service merge seamlessly. Yet, when army mountaineers step onto the slopes as climbers rather than combatants, they bring with them the same discipline, camaraderie, and quiet courage that define their life in uniform.

It all begins with the Army Adventure Wing and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute—nurseries for some of India’s finest climbers.

Here, soldiers learn not just how to climb, but how to think like the mountain: patient, unyielding, and resilient. It’s not rare to find a jawan who has spent months in Siachen’s sub-zero temperatures casually scaling 6,000-metre peaks in Ladakh or Uttarakhand as part of their routine training. The line between service and adventure blurs—the mountain becomes both playground and proving ground.

The Indian Army’s tryst with mountaineering began soon after Independence. In 1965, when an Indian Army team conquered Mount Everest, it was not merely a national achievement—it was a statement. Led by Capt MS Kohli, the expedition placed nine Indians on the summit, the largest number by any single expedition at the time. That record, carved in the ice of history, still stands as a symbol of collective endurance and military precision.

But Everest was only the beginning. Over the decades, Indian Army expeditions have scaled more than 150 challenging peaks, including Kanchenjunga, Nanda Devi, Kamet, and Saser Kangri. Each climb carries its own legend. One team faced blinding snowstorms on Nun Kun; another rescued stranded climbers on Bhagirathi. For these mountaineers, victory isn’t always about reaching the top—it’s often about bringing everyone back alive.

The life of an army mountaineer is one of relentless preparation. At high-altitude training schools like Gulmarg and the High Altitude Warfare School (HAWS) in Sonamarg, soldiers learn to move, fight, and survive in conditions where even breathing feels like a battle. The thin air teaches humility. The cold teaches discipline. And the climb teaches leadership.

Each expedition begins months in advance. Routes are studied, weather reports monitored, and logistics planned down to the last oxygen cylinder. The team becomes a family—a rope-bound brotherhood where trust is not optional but vital. One wrong step on an icy ridge could mean the difference between life and death. Yet, ask any army climber, and they’ll tell you: it’s not the danger they remember most—it’s the sunrise breaking over a glacier, the quiet pride of carrying the national flag in the most unforgiving places on Earth.

The spirit of army mountaineering isn’t confined to men. In recent years, women officers have rewritten the rules of high-altitude endurance. Lt Col Anita Karki, Maj Deepika Rathore, and others have led all-women expeditions to daunting peaks, including Mount Everest and Mount Manirang. Their achievements are a testament not just to physical strength but to mental fortitude.

There’s a photograph that perfectly captures this spirit of courage. On a snow-covered summit, Maj Deepika Rathore stands wrapped in her bright orange expedition suit, the wind howling around her as she holds up a picture of her team. 

Behind her, the tricolour flutters fiercely against the endless blue sky, and her fellow climbers sit close, their faces half-hidden behind goggles and oxygen masks. In that frozen silence, their smiles say what words cannot—a quiet triumph born from discipline, teamwork, and the will to endure. It’s not just a moment of victory; it’s a glimpse into what it means to carry the army’s spirit to the roof of the world.

When the Indian Army’s women officers reached Everest in 2005, they carried not only gear and grit but also the weight of expectations. Standing at 8,848 metres above sea level, they proved that courage knows no gender. Today, their journeys inspire new generations of soldiers—male and female alike—to dream beyond limits.

For the fauji, the mountain is more than a physical challenge—it’s a teacher. Every step up a slope is a meditation in patience, every gust of wind a reminder of humility. Mountaineering teaches endurance, teamwork, and leadership—qualities that mirror the demands of combat. When soldiers return from an expedition, they bring back not just tales of adventure, but also lessons that shape their professional and personal lives.

The Army Adventure Wing often sends teams on international climbs as part of goodwill missions, symbolising not just India’s strength but its spirit of exploration. In the thin air above 20,000 feet, boundaries blur, and what remains is the shared human pursuit of testing one’s limits.

No story of Indian Army mountaineers is complete without mentioning Siachen—the highest and coldest battlefield in the world. At altitudes above 18,000 feet, where temperatures drop below -50°C, soldiers live, fight, and survive. Every patrol on Siachen is an expedition in itself—a test of endurance that mountaineers around the world can only imagine.

Many of the soldiers posted there are trained climbers, capable of navigating crevasses and avalanches as part of their daily routine. Their courage isn’t captured in summit photos or medals, but in the quiet resilience of standing guard in places where life itself struggles to exist. If Everest is a symbol of triumph, Siachen is a symbol of sacrifice.

What drives an army mountaineer? It’s not fame, nor personal glory. It’s the call of challenge—the same force that draws them to defend borders, to face storms, to endure hardship with a smile. Each mountain they climb becomes a metaphor for life itself: steep, uncertain, yet conquerable through willpower and unity.

When the expedition returns, the flags fluttering proudly and the faces sunburnt but smiling, the true victory lies not in the ascent but in the journey. Because every climb tells the same story—the story of a fauji who dared to rise above.

In the end, the tales of army mountaineers are not just stories of adventure—they are reflections of the human spirit at its most raw and resilient. They remind us that courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the will to move forward despite it. The mountains may test the body, but they reveal the soul.

The fauji on the peaks stands as a symbol of what it means to serve—with discipline, with dignity, and with an unshakable belief that no height is too great when climbed together.

Also read: Frozen Victory: 40 Years of Operation Meghdoot in Siachen