As New Zealanders gather today to commemorate ANZAC Day, we pay tribute to the courage and sacrifice of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) soldiers who fought at Gallipoli in 1915. Yet, woven into this historic campaign is a lesser-known but equally profound story of the Indian soldiers, particularly from the Sikh regiments, who stood shoulder to shoulder with the ANZACs on the blood-soaked shores of the Dardanelles.
The Gallipoli campaign was not solely an ANZAC endeavour; it was a global effort under the British Empire. Among the forces were approximately 15,000 Indian soldiers, comprising Sikhs, Gurkhas, Muslims and Hindus, who played vital roles across the battlefield, from frontline assaults to tireless logistical support. The 14th Sikh Regiment, part of the 29th Indian Brigade, showed unwavering courage during the Third Battle of Krithia in June 1915, suffering devastating losses in one of the campaign’s most brutal encounters. They advanced into withering enemy fire, their resolve unshaken, their spirit undimmed.
Behind the lines, the Indian Mule Corps, with thousands of handlers and pack animals, formed the lifeline of the Allied troops. Carrying food, ammunition, and the wounded across Gallipoli’s unforgiving terrain, their quiet service often came at great personal cost, yet it was indispensable.
In the face of war’s harsh realities, something remarkable unfolded. Despite the prevailing racial prejudices of the time, deep bonds of camaraderie formed between the Indian soldiers and their ANZAC counterparts. In letters and diaries, Australian soldiers wrote of sharing meals, laughter, and grief with Sikh comrades. Sergeant Charles Frederick Reeve of the Australian Imperial Force recalled the warmth and generosity of the Indian troops, writing about evenings where soldiers from vastly different worlds sat side by side in the trenches, swapping stories over campfires under starlit skies.
These were not just fleeting alliances of convenience, they were forged in blood and brotherhood. They sowed the seeds of enduring cross-cultural ties that would eventually shape the multicultural character of nations like New Zealand and Australia.
Today, as we remember the ANZACs, it is imperative we also honour the 1,358 Indian soldiers who never returned, and the over 3,421 who were wounded in Gallipoli. Their names are etched into the Helles Memorial in Turkey, far from their homeland, yet they remain largely invisible in popular memory.
But not all of them rest so far away. In the heart of India, at the Delhi War Cemetery, ANZAC graves lie in solemn silence. Under Indian skies, these young men from the far corners of the world rest in peace, a lasting testament to the global nature of this sacrifice. How many Indians pass those gravestones without knowing the kinship that lies beneath them? This ANZAC Day, perhaps we can pause and remember that some of the ANZAC dead lie in the Delhi War Cemetry, just as Indian blood soaked the shores of Gallipoli.
In a deeply symbolic moment, as we write this article, New Zealand Prime Minister Christopher Luxon has just visited Gallipoli, joining world leaders in paying tribute to the fallen. His presence affirms the ongoing significance of remembrance and the global reach of the ANZAC spirit.
As members of the Kiwi-Indian community, ANZAC Day is more than a day of remembrance, as it is truly a mirror of our shared past. It reminds us that the legacy of Gallipoli is not just Australian or New Zealander, but Indian too. Our grandfathers may have spoken different languages, prayed to different gods, and come from different continents — but they bled together, fought together, and in too many cases, died together.
By honouring all who served, regardless of colour, creed, or country, we embrace the true spirit of ANZAC, courage, mateship, and sacrifice that transcends race and borders.
Lest We Forget.