Inside the 1971 War: Letters, Diaries, Final Messages, and the Books Built from Them

In the winter of 1971, as India and Pakistan moved toward open conflict, soldiers on both sides wrote letters home with a frequency and urgency that reflected the tension in the air. For many, writing was a way to remain grounded—a bridge between the battlefield and the life they hoped to return to.

Indian officers deployed in the Eastern theatre wrote about the lush green fields of what was then East Pakistan, the warmth of the Bengali villagers, and the monsoon-soaked terrain through which they advanced. These letters often carried a striking duality: a paragraph might begin with tactical details—enemy shelling, bridge demolitions, or strategic movements—and end with a gentle request for homemade pickles or a reminder to care for an ageing parent.

That contrast reminds us that behind every uniform was a son, a brother, a new father, or a young man dreaming of a life paused by duty.

If letters captured emotion, diaries captured immediacy. Few documents convey the unfolding of the 1971 war as vividly as Ekattorer Dinguli (Those Days of ’71) by Jahanara Imam. Written in Dhaka through the terrifying months of occupation and resistance, her diary records everything from air-raid sirens and curfews to whispered news of disappearances.

While not a soldier’s diary, her work offers an extraordinary window into the psychological landscape of wartime: despair, hope, courage, and the crushing uncertainty that civilians endured. Her daily entries reflect the kind of raw honesty and unfiltered detail that many soldiers also recorded privately—journaling moments of camaraderie, fear, or moral conflict, knowing these words might never be read in their lifetimes.

From a historian’s perspective, Imam’s diary performs the same role as battlefield journals: it lets us experience the war hour by hour, not through official statements but through the lived experiences of those swept into its storm.

Some of the most powerful voices to emerge from the 1971 war come from the recorded words and last communications of Indian soldiers who fought in some of the fiercest battles of the conflict. Unlike many global wars, where personal letters were widely archived, India’s soldiers' correspondence from 1971 largely remained within families. Yet, a few authentic lines—preserved in memoirs, citations, and battlefield accounts—offer a glimpse into the courage and clarity with which these men faced danger.

One of the most iconic final messages came from 2nd Lt. Arun Khetarpal, PVC, the young tank commander who fought at the Battle of Basantar. When advised by his commanding officer to withdraw his burning tank, he replied with unwavering resolve:

“No sir, I will not abandon my tank. My gun is still working and I will get these bastards.”
— 2nd Lt. Arun Khetarpal, Param Vir Chakra (Posthumous)

It was one of his last transmissions. He died moments later, having destroyed multiple enemy tanks while holding the line for his regiment.

Another enduring statement comes from Capt MN Mulla, commanding officer of INS Khukri, which was torpedoed by a Pakistani submarine off the coast of Gujarat. Even as the ship sank rapidly, he refused rescue and helped evacuate his sailors. His final act is remembered through the words he lived by:

“A captain does not abandon his ship.”
— Capt. Mahendra Nath Mulla, Maha Vir Chakra (Posthumous)

These words, preserved in naval records and survivor testimonies, embody the sense of duty and responsibility that defined his last moments.

Taken together, these real, documented voices offer more than battlefield heroism. They reveal a deeper inner world—moments of duty accepted fully, purpose embraced without hesitation, and the unspoken awareness that the outcome of a single decision might alter the fate of many. These final messages and reflections, preserved in official records and memoirs, allow us to hear the quiet courage of Indian soldiers in the war’s defining moments.

Historians, journalists, and military veterans have transformed these fragile personal documents into compelling books that preserve individual voices from the conflict. Some notable works include:

Blending strategic history with soldiers’ letters, interviews, and diary extracts, this book offers a richly textured account of the war.

A Pakistani officer’s firsthand memoir from inside East Pakistan, reconstructed partly from his wartime notes. Witness to Surrender is among the most cited personal accounts of the conflict.

Built on oral histories and firsthand testimonies from soldiers and civilians, presenting competing narratives of the war.

An Odyssey in War and Peace is a memoir incorporating operational notes, personal reflections, and wartime correspondence from the man who led India’s Eastern Command.

Edited volumes such as Muktijuddher Chetona: Diary 1971, Joddha, Juddho O Bangladesh, and diary compilations of Mukti Bahini fighters preserve rare handwritten notes from the liberation struggle.

These books do more than narrate military operations—they restore human texture to the war, bringing readers close to fear-filled nights, quiet acts of bravery, and the private thoughts of people living through history.

More than fifty years later, the letters and diaries from the 1971 war continue to resonate because they lend a human face to a conflict often remembered primarily for geopolitical outcomes. They remind us that victory came at the cost of countless personal sacrifices.

In our digital age, these handwritten fragments feel even more precious. Their ink smudges, hurried strokes, and occasional misspellings carry the weight of authenticity—surviving as emotional archives, echoing the lives and losses of those who wrote them.

The 1971 war may have been short, but its stories are enduring. Through letters carried across borders, diaries written under curfew, and the final messages of men who stepped into danger, we gain an intimate lens into a monumental chapter of history.

The books built from these documents ensure that these voices—fragile yet powerful—continue to speak across generations.

In the end, wars are remembered in many ways. But the most lasting memories come not from generals or governments, but from the ordinary individuals who wrote with honesty because they had everything to lose—and everything to protect.

Also read: Garibpur 1971: The Battle That Paved India’s Path into East Pakistan