Born on 2nd May 1940 in pre-independent Lahore, Anil Kumar Dhir was the third of four brothers, with a younger sister he adored. A spirited child, playful, affectionate, and endlessly curious, he grew up across cities like Lucknow, Gorakhpur, Calcutta, and Delhi, following his father’s railway postings. Each place left its imprint on the boy who would one day leave an indelible mark on the Indian Navy.
From an early age, Anil showed an extraordinary flair for numbers and a handwriting so elegant it seemed like art. He was a born communicator, connecting with pen friends across borders, building friendships grounded in trust and warmth. He was also an enthusiastic philatelist, collecting stamps with a fascination that would one day bloom into national recognition.
Despite his father’s quiet worries about his future, Anil surprised him, and many others by joining the prestigious National Defence Academy in 1957. Selected for the Indian Air Force as part of the 18th Course, Anil had just completed his solo flying assessment when life took a surprising turn. Just after his final sortie, he was summoned by the Commandant and informed of his parents’ decision to transfer him to the Navy. His parents, concerned about having two sons in frontline aviation, his elder brother was already a naval pilot chose the safer path.
This abrupt change leading to 19th Course left him devastated. He was so disheartened that he refused to go home during term breaks and found himself suddenly pushed into the technical arm of the Navy, with flying now completely out of reach. Yet, in later years, he often reflected with a smile and said, “This was the best thing to have happened to my life. Navy is the best amongst the three services.”
His early years at NDA were filled with tales of adventure and daring. One such story became legendary, Anil once bet a group of his course mates, who were taking the train from Pune’s Khadakwasla to Delhi a journey spanning 1042 KMs, that he would reach before them riding a Vespa scooter. With a pillion course mate who had no clue how to ride, and in the biting winter of December, Anil powered through and reached Delhi well before the train. It was a testament to his sheer grit, confidence, and sense of fun.
Commissioned as a Sub Lieutenant on 1st July 1962, Anil began his naval career aboard INS Krisna. He later served on the legendary INS Vikrant and with the Indian Naval Air Squadron (INAS) 310, The Cobras – a maritime reconnaissance unit based back then in Kochi and is now one amongst the most decorated squadrons in the Indian Navy. His time with the Cobras left a lasting impression, sharpening both his tactical precision and technical finesse.
When the Indo-Pak war of 1965 broke out, he served with steadfastness on the western coast of India, earning the respect of seniors and subordinates alike.
Married on 14th May 1968 to the woman who would become his lifelong anchor, Anil found in her a partner through every tide. Together, they raised two daughters who were the pride of his heart.
By 1968, he had chosen the road less travelled that of a submariner. This bold step made him one of the rare officers to serve across all three arms of the Navy: Surface, Aviation, and Submarine. His legacy was sealed as the Electrical Officer of the commissioning crew of INS Kursura in 1970, where he served with distinction. Today, his name lives on etched in history at the Indian Naval Submarine Museum on Visakhapatnam’s R.K. Beach.
And then came 1971.
A year that reshaped South Asia and marked a proud chapter in India’s military history. Commodore Anil Kumar Dhir was part of that defining moment, serving aboard INS Kursura on the west coast, in the depth of the tense waters near Karachi, while his eldest brother, the late Captain Ravi Dhir, flew aboard INS Vikrant off the eastern coast near Chittagong. The two brothers, separated by distance but united in purpose, fought not just for victory but for the birth of a new nation Bangladesh. Their simultaneous service on two legendary vessels during a war that reshaped the region is a testament to both rare familial bonds and national pride, forever etched in Naval history.
After that turning point in history, Anil went on to serve aboard INS Vela, which was commissioned in 1973. He was once again part of the commissioning crew; his second time being trusted with a submarine’s maiden voyage into Indian waters. It was a mark of his exceptional capability, technical finesse, and deep-rooted commitment.
His postings took him for the third time to Russia for the refit of INS Kalvari in 1975. It was in the snow-covered city of Vladivostok, where his younger daughter was born, that the circle of sea, service, and family felt complete. Fittingly, Vladivostok was a sister city to Visakhapatnam his elder daughter’s birthplace, creating a beautiful symmetry that tied the family’s journey closely to the Indian Navy’s heartlands.
His younger daughter was his partner-in-crime and silent witness through the years, often by his side, soaking in life’s most valuable lessons not from textbooks, but from the way he lived: fixing what was broken, giving without expectation, and walking through life with quiet courage, honesty, and grace – true to the meaning of her name.
To her, he often said: “You are my extension; I am your strength. I will live through you beyond time and dimension.”
His illustrious shore tenures included appointments at some of the Navy’s most strategic bases: INS Shivaji, INS Valsura, INS Garuda, INS Virbahu, INS Angre, INS Circars, INS India, and many others. Across every posting, he led by example, blending discipline with approachability, and technical brilliance with creative flair.
A passionate philatelist, he designed 8 official stamps celebrating the Indian Navy and India’s maritime heritage. He didn’t just collect stamps; he created history with them. His talents also extended to designing First Day Covers, Naval Crests, and writing articles and chronicles documenting the naval legacy with wit, depth, and perspective.
He was a man of many passions, cars, food, photography, travel, cultures, and above all, people. His cherished his black Standard Herald MSS 233 was more than just a car; it was a symbol of style, independence, and cherished memories. With his wife and daughters, he journeyed across almost every corner of India in that car, from the tranquil heights of Darjeeling and Tiger Hill to the rugged terrain of Rohtang Pass and the serene beaches of Kochi. A lover of driving, he often took matters into his own hands, personally repairing the car. His garage became a sanctuary of precision, patience, and pride.
He often said, “If I come back to life, I will join the Indian Navy and live the life all over again.” For him, the Navy wasn’t just a profession it was purpose, pride, and passion. He fully embodied the essence of “You can take a Naval Officer out of the Navy, but you can never take the Navy out of an Officer.” In every choice, every gesture, and every quiet act of strength, the Navy lived on through him. Each day of his life was a silent salute to the service he so deeply cherished.
He lived with dignity, served with devotion, and upheld the highest ideals of the naval tradition. In April 1984, he received a commendation from the Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief, Western Naval Command, in recognition of his initiative, perseverance, diligence, and deep devotion to duty.
He retired in 1994, hanging up his uniform after decades of unparalleled service, his last posting with the DRDO, contributing significantly to India’s nuclear submarine capabilities. During this time, he worked under one of India’s most visionary scientists, Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam – his then-superior and later, India’s President. He held Kalam in deep regard and often said how inspired he was by his leadership and humility.
His legacy isn’t defined by timelines or titles. A submariner to the core, he ran silent, he ran deep, living fully, loving deeply, and serving with quiet dignity. In the stormy silence of the COVID-19 lockdown, he left this world quietly, just as he had lived, leading without noise, standing for something greater than himself. No formal farewell ceremony nor a final salute. Yet, in every life he touched, his presence endures.
Fair winds and following seas, Commodore Anil Dhir. Your watch is over, but your legend sails on. A submariner till the end, silent, deep, and steadfast.
In life, he was a lighthouse, calm, steady, and guiding. In memory, he becomes the sea, vast, enduring, and forever present. His story is etched not in medals, but in the values he lived and passed on. For those who knew him, he remains a compass of integrity, courage, and grace.
His watch continues in every act of kindness, in every choice of courage, in every heart he touched. His journey lives on, in his daughters’ eyes, in the stamps he designed, in the men he led, and in the legacy he left across sea, sky, and souls.
– As seen by his Younger Daughter (Anyuta Dhir)
