Shortly after dawn Lee Soong sent some of his escort to clear the area. Standing orders. One, a local, had worked as a Forest Ranger, scoured the area and found nothing suspicious. They were now relaxed with no worry because peace and quiet had prevailed and sure that no soldiers had been anywhere near, the Killer put his plan into action. ‘I am glad, Comrade Lee Soong, you are ready for us. We now go to our look-out point on a small hillock where no one can approach us unseen. The firing will start after my bugler, who will be at the look-out, blows the order to begin.’
‘Comrade. That is most efficient. Well done. Red salute. Just don’t forget my orders …’
Just after dawn Rance thought it time to move. As he was giving out orders everybody heard a bugle call. It came from not far away and a volley of fire was heard. There being no ‘crack and thump’ it had to be range firing. Vegetation was so thick there was no chance of seeing their target. So as not to miss it, Rance sent out patrols towards the noise but spaced out.
They moved off and twenty minutes later the bugle blew again, much nearer. The firing also ceased.
‘Saheb, there is some high ground in front of us. It has good visibility all round. That’ll be the place to make for now.’
Yes, it has to be the place the shopkeeper told me.
‘Listen! 2 Section with Sergeant Ruwaman. Move off right with Kamal. I’ll move off slightly left with 1 Section and with the Cheena detective. 3 Section in reserve behind me. I’ll make cuckoo noises with my hands so we can keep in touch. If you shoot remember where we are.’ Rance had only heard cuckoos when he was under training as a Gentleman Cadet in the Indian Military Academy in Dehra Dun, India, where he had learnt how to blow exactly like one.
‘1 Section. With me. Inche Ah Wong come with me,’ and he used hand signs for the advance to begin.
The ground rose steadily. Rance could not see where the other section was so made cuckoo noises from time to time, hoping his ‘disguise’ would fool any ‘baddy’. It fooled ‘exercise enemy’ when training in India, so why not here?
The men, rifles at the ready and glad at a challenge, moved like the dedicated professionals they were.
Rance’s group reached the top of the hill, unopposed, and saw a make-shift look-out point of rough atap palm thatch. It was unoccupied. They found an alarm warning that could be operated by being pulled by a piece of string from inside, a military belt, some .303 rounds of ammunition and a kettle on the hob with a fire burning underneath and some tea leaves in an open tin, ready to make a brew. Hanging on the wall by a plaited straw cord was a bugle[1] made from a buffalo horn. In one corner were two large tins. Inside one were a few more Chinese pamphlets with the hammer and sickle motif on the outside and in the other weapon training manuals and bill heads of receipts that the Collector, presumably, had given to those who had been forced to hand over money.
Damn and blast it. Just missed them. I really thought my trick would work. Rance was dismayed at their bad luck. Blue eyes burned. I’ll keep the bugle as a souvenir and have the hut burnt before we move off.
As he was waiting for the other section to join him he heard the call of a bird that he had only ever heard at dawn and dusk come from the jungle below him. He recognised it as the burong tetabu, the great-eared nightjar. It was answered. Five minutes later he heard the call again, fainter, answered, also more faintly. Rance said ‘Those are the escaping enemy who were here before we came. The guerrillas have split up so are using that call as a signal to keep contact with each other. We might have got them if we were a bit earlier.’
The other men joined them. Sergeant Ruwaman put out sentries. In broad daylight, the jungle below them lay black and foreboding.
‘Sergeant ustad, what’s that lying in a bush down there?’ called out a soldier who had been put facing the jungle as sentry. ‘It looks like a package of some sort.’
‘Go and fetch it.’
The soldier brought the package up and gave it to the Sergeant who took it over to the British officer and, saluting first, handed it over. ‘It was on a thorny bush at the jungle edge. It must have been torn out of the carrier’s hand as he passed it and he was in such a hurry he failed to notice it.’
Inside were some papers, written in Chinese. Rance scanned them and saw they bore instructions from the Politburo of the MCP. They’ll mean a lot to Special Branch. He showed them to Ah Wong.
As the detective was scanning them, Rance showed the Sergeant the contents of the tins. Before we leave, you will burn the hut and all the pamphlets with the hammer and sickle picture on the front. I have taken one which I will give in when I get back. As for the weapon training manuals and bill heads, distribute them for the men to carry back to the lines.’
‘Hunchha, Hajur. That’s the best thing to do with them. I’ll get on with the burning.’
‘Tuan Captain, this is a most important guerrilla operation order,’ said Ah Wong. ‘At the end there is a signature of one Lee Soong, a senior comrade who used to work in Singapore.’
‘Thank you, Inche Ah Wong. That is most interesting. Quite a haul for one day. I’ll take it back with me.’ Then, in a louder voice, ‘Sergeant Ruwaman. Now we’ll move off. 1 Section in front and back to the RV. Once back in the lines the rest of the day is free after you’ve cleaned your weapon. We all need a sleep. You have shown the highest standards of discipline and night movement. I am proud of you. Well done.’
The tea Rance had told the drivers to bring with them was delicious. While they were drinking it, the detective asked Rance, ‘Do you know why we did not catch those people?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ answered Rance, smothering a yawn. ‘It had to be a sudden move otherwise they would have had their brew of tea first.’
Ah Wong smiled. ‘You told them, Tuan. They knew we were coming,’ said with gentle irony.
Rance gasped in disbelief. Now’s not the time to be funny with me. ‘How could they know? I told them? Impossible. I’m too tired for bad jokes,’ unconsciously stiffening his back as he spoke.
‘But you did, Tuan. You let them know we were coming. I’ll tell you how. You made the noise of a bird that does not exist in Malaya. The people on the hilltop knew it had to be man-made, strangers, that is to say, soldiers, coming so, not wanting to be killed, wounded or captured, they made their escape, in two groups, before we got there – and only just in time. They probably thought that the maker of that strange bird noise would not have known that the burong tetabu was a dawn and dusk bird that never calls by day! They were likewise keeping track without a wireless.’
The Englishman put his head in his hands and groaned so loudly that Kulbahadur thought he had stomach ache. Oh Lord. I’m the biggest cuckoo of them all, he silently lamented. With all my boyhood knowledge how could I have overlooked that? ‘It’s time to back to the lines but I want to say one last thing. You were surprised when I asked you if you came from Penang. I’ll tell you how I know. You have Hai San tattooed on your shoulder in Chinese characters.’
The detective stared at Jason, so surprised he could find nothing to say before Jason continued, ‘the people engaged in the firing are Green Dragons. I advise you to be more than extra careful. It is just possible they saw you after they escaped and so think you have got possession of the dropped package.’
Ah Wong did not know what to say, so said nothing.
‘Embuss! Start up and back to Sepang just as quickly as we can,’ Rance’s order rang out.
At Sepang Rance rang Bhutan Estate for a vehicle and before Kamal got into it, the two of them shook hands. ‘Saheb, I hope we meet again. I think I overheard one of the soldiers saying you were due back in Seremban soon.’
‘Yes, Kamal. We don’t have much longer here. It was good meeting you. Again my thanks and thank the manager Saheb for letting me have you.’
The vehicle drove off.
Rance sat on the floor to write his report. He fell asleep before he had written more than three lines. Kulbahadur only woke him the next morning with a mug of tea, still fully dressed.
Lee Soong[2] and his squad had been alerted by that strange bird call and, just in case it presaged a danger, they quickly made their way into the thick jungle of the forest reserve, spent the rest of that day hiding and, by a clever change of clothes and using taxis that worked for the Cause, reached their secret hideout, a cave near the summit of Bukit Beremban, one of the tallest mountains to the east of Seremban, two days later, one of his old wartime hide-outs. He was confident his task had been a success. Before the alert he had complimented the Killer on his range planning, he had learnt that the Goo K’a bing were no match for him and his men and, to comfort any misgivings he had, he put that strange bird call down to a new, long-nosed devil rubber planter trying to make himself invisible as he explored the area at the back of his estate. It just so happened that the noise, a little too near for comfort, coincided with his giving the Killer his new operational orders.
The Killer, on the other hand, was in a quandary. I must have dropped the package containing Lee Soong’s orders shortly after that strange birdcall sounded, too near for safety. He and his escort had returned to his house by a circuitous route. I must go and look for that package in a couple of days, he said to himself after he had had a wash.
Back in Seremban Rance reported to the CO, who debriefed him. At the end Jason said he had to go to Police HQ. ‘I’ve an important policy document, some guerrilla training manuals and receipts of extorted money to give to Special Branch.’
‘Yes, go and give them in, then have a couple of days to relax in. You have done a good job. Well done. I also have some news for you. It has been decided that 12 Gurkha Rifles will revert to infantry shortly so I will be leaving when it happens.’
‘We’ll be sorry to see you go, sir,’ Rance said. ‘We all know you have had a hard row to plough, often against the furrows. Please let me say how much all of us junior officers have recognised this.’
