The road to Mhow feels almost too peaceful – the trees arching overhead, their branches whispering with the wind, and the small cantonment town nestled in the valley, appearing serene. Yet, behind this calm exterior lies a world far from tranquil. It's only when you cross the gates of Infantry School that the true intensity of the place reveals itself. Here, silence is not absence; it is the sound of focus, discipline, and the quiet before the storm.

At Mhow, the soldiers are trained not just to fight, but to think, to breathe, to be in battle. The heart of the school beats to the rhythm of a singular creed: 'Ek Goli, Ek Dushman' — One bullet, one enemy.

Here the air is thick with mist or the dust from the fierce practice routine. Through the fog, soldiers in camouflage glide like shadows, rifles at the ready. Their movements are seamless, almost ethereal, as if the mist itself is guiding them – silent, deadly, precise. It's a sight that calls to mind the scenes from war films, but this is no Hollywood production. There are no takes, no special effects. This is real. This is the birthplace of India's warriors.

At Mhow, the soldiers are trained not just to fight, but to think, to breathe, to be in battle. The heart of the school beats to the rhythm of a singular creed: 'Ek Goli, Ek Dushman' —One bullet, one enemy.

It's a principle that transcends technique and equipment. It's about the man behind the rifle – his will, his focus, his spirit. Snipers, in particular, embody this ethos. Theirs is a craft of precision, akin to that of a surgeon with a scalpel, cutting through the chaos of war with deadly accuracy. Much like Arjuna, who could see only the bird's eye, they are trained to tune out everything – the noise, the pressure, even their own heartbeat – until only the target remains.

At Mhow, they don't just learn to shoot; they learn to become one with the weapon. Every movement, every breath, every pull of the trigger is a part of something much larger.

And then, in a flash, the sound rings out, "Headshot kill." In that split second, you understand what it takes. It's not just about hitting a target. It's about ignoring all distractions, about becoming a force of nature. At Mhow, they don't just learn to shoot; they learn to become one with the weapon. Every movement, every breath, every pull of the trigger is a part of something much larger. The real challenge isn't the bullet. It's the mind behind it.

A Legacy Written in Gunpowder

The history of Infantry School dates back to 1888, when the British Indian Army first established the School of Musketry at Changla Gali. From there, it moved across various locations – Satara, Belgaum, Pachmarhi, Jhansi, and Dehradun – before settling in Mhow in 1948. Over the years, it has transformed into the world's largest and oldest infantry training institution. More than just a school, it has become a crucible where every lesson, every technique, and every strategy contributes to the way the Indian Army fights – in deserts, mountains, jungles, and urban warfare.

As one seasoned instructor told me, his eyes hard with experience, "When the last round is fired, when the last order is given, it is the infantryman who holds the ground. Always!"

The Arsenal of the Infantryman

Mhow's air reverberates with the sounds of controlled chaos, a symphony of weaponry that's far more than just tools of war. Here, soldiers train with the very instruments that make them formidable:

• Assault Rifles: INSAS, AK-47, SIG Sauer, AK-203.
• Machine Guns: LMG, MMG, Negev, and the Ghatak arsenal.
• Sniper Systems: Dragunov, Barrett, and precision long-range rifles.
• Anti-Tank Weapons: Carl Gustav launchers, ATGMs.
• Mortars & Grenade Launchers: Vital firepower for infantry operations.

However, the paradox of Mhow's arsenal lies in the fact that the true weapon is not the rifle or grenade; it is the soldier himself. The rifle may be the instrument of war, but it is the infantryman who breathes life into it.

While the legacy of Mhow is steeped in tradition, the future is unmistakably clear. Alongside rifles and mortars, new-age technology is now integral to training. Indigenous drones hum in ISR roles, simulators run electronic warfare drills, and doctrines are being developed for AI-driven warfare and loitering munitions.

All in 480 Seconds

The intensity of training at Mhow is most evident in the Combat Test of Elementary Training. This gruelling exercise is one of the most demanding and rigorous I observed, pushing soldiers to their absolute limits while demanding excellence in weapon handling under extreme exhaustion. A demo unfolded right in front of me - the clock is set for eight minutes – just 480 seconds – to demonstrate mastery over weaponry, deception, and quick-thinking under pressure.

Amidst a war-simulated backdrop of dust clouds and palpable tension, the scene unfolds:

• Sprint to the range from 350 meters, intermittently camouflage.
• Handle hand grenades and pistols flawlessly.
• Carry heavy ammunition boxes.
• Disassemble and reassemble a Negev LMG and rifle under duress.
• Crawl 10 meters, followed by grenade lobbing.
• Finally, fire the AK-203 from kneeling and prone positions, then strip and reassemble it on the clock.

There are no excuses here. This test isn't just about fitness; it's about soldiers learning to fight, think, and execute flawlessly under the kind of pressure they would face in real combat.

Bullets to Medals: The AMU Legacy

A short distance from the sniper ranges lies another vital component of the Indian Army's marksmanship prowess – the Army Marksmanship Unit (AMU). Here, the focus shifts from combat to competition, where soldiers refine their skills for Olympic glory. I had the chance to try some shots firsthand. The AMU has produced several notable champions:

• Col. Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore — Silver medal, Athens 2004.
• Vijay Kumar — Silver medal, London 2012.
• Jitu Rai, Gurpreet Singh, and Chain Singh — Olympians who honed their craft at AMU.

"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil. And while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles." — Col. Jeff Cooper

The same soil that trains soldiers for war also shapes them into Olympians. Different battles, different arenas, but the same core discipline and precision.

The Future Battlefield

While the legacy of Mhow is steeped in tradition, the future is unmistakably clear. Alongside rifles and mortars, new-age technology is now integral to training. Indigenous drones hum in ISR roles, simulators run electronic warfare drills, and doctrines are being developed for AI-driven warfare and loitering munitions.

But one truth remains unchanged: while tomorrow's wars may be fought with algorithms and drones, it is still the infantryman who will hold the ground.

The Soul of Soldiering

As I left Mhow, a singular paradox echoed in my mind. Weapons change, tactics evolve, and technology advances. But in the end, when the last bullet is fired and the battlefield is silent, it is the infantryman who remains standing.

Infantry School, Mhow, is more than just a training ground. It is the soul of soldiering in India. And in the chambers of its history, one creed rings louder than gunfire: 'Ek Goli, Ek Dushman' —One bullet, one enemy.

At Mhow, it is not just a motto; it is a promise — a promise that the legacy of India's infantrymen will endure, on the battlefield and beyond.