Kamal saw heads nod. He called out the password and it was answered. Into the camp area they went and dumped their loads. If Kamal had not made up his mind about the Communists before, the mangled and bloody remains of the tortured body turned him irrevocably against them.
It was unusual for any guerrilla group to be in such comparatively non-extensive jungle but it was considered safe. The previous year a group of Japanese had landed on the coast nearby and patrolled to Bhutan Estate. There the commander was overcome and sliced to death by Kamal who escaped unharmed. The rest of the Japanese were set on and killed by some returning hunters. After that, quite why no one could tell, the invaders regarded some buildings there to be haunted, so kept away.[1]
Kamal Rai was in his mid-twenties, immensely strong, had deep-set almond eyes that flashed dangerously, high cheek bones and a face that had a calm look, although there was an air of subtlety about it. He had been educated at King George V’s School in Seremban where the medium of instruction was English and his teachers had regarded him as a scholar.
Among the guerrillas was a thin, austere, bespectacled and slightly balding Englishman, Reggie Hutton, a member of a stay-behind group who had joined forces with the Chinese fighting the Japanese. Pre-war he had worked in the Singapore Police Special Branch. One of the guerrillas, Ah Fat, was secretly known to Hutton as a British ‘mole’. Hutton had known Kamal since pre-war and the two men had joined the guerrilla group together. Hutton had persuaded them to go to the Serting Forest Reserve and once there Kamal had slipped away to Bhutan Estate to get some porters to bring new supplies back.
Before the porters left, Lee Soon warned them that any who told the Japanese where the camp was would also have similar condign punishment – or even more drastic. Reggie Hutton thanked the porters who, now unladen, were able to move faster and more easily avoid any Japanese who might just be lurking to nab them as they returned.
Calcutta, India, 19-30 March 1948
During that time an innocent-sounding Southeast Asia Youth Conference[2] – a youth being anyone up to thirty-five years old – composed of fanatical but untrained anti-colonialist revolutionaries from European Asian colonies, less Portugal, Timor being too small to matter, took place under the ægis of the Indian Communist Party. Its genesis lay in Soviet anti-imperialist policy and its aim was to teach the participants how best to prepare for the Communist-inspired risings against the imperialist colonialists. Knowing that fanaticism based solely on ignorance had to be rectified, the syllabus was designed to rectify this discrepancy. The Youth Conference was immediately followed by the second Plenum of the Indian Communist Party and its participants were invited to stay on and participate in it.
Billed as a ‘star’ was the Chairman of the Australian Communist Party, L L ‘Lance’ Sharkey, on a short-stay visa; the other attraction was a Communist from Singapore, Lee Soong, born there in 1927 and a fluent English speaker, who had already fought as a guerrilla against the Japanese.
Reggie Hutton, now Head of Singapore Special Branch, had come to hear about the Conference. He had learnt that a strong Soviet team had been in India for several months, preparing for it. The Russians could work more easily in India than anywhere else in Southeast Asia and now India was independent used their sources to help them. Whatever would transpire would be, he felt, of great significance so, even though Calcutta was not in his bailiwick, he intended to find out about it in as much detail as possible. He was extremely intrigued when his friend John Theopulos, the manager of Bhutan Estate, rang him to tell him that his chief clerk, Hemlal Rai, had received an invitation for one suitable person from the estate to attend, all expenses paid. ‘Reggie, what is your advice and why do you think my estate has been chosen to send a representative to such a jamboree?’
Reggie considered his answer before saying ‘John, why one of your men? I have heard rumours that several seriously anti-British Indian-domiciled hot-head Nepalis belonging to the Darjeeling branch of the All-India Gorkha League, have also been invited. Apart from the Indian Congress Party inspiring such political hatred of the British, even those in the Viceroy’s Council had not fully realised the effect of Soviet and German liking for one of the more expensive brands of tea in the Darjeeling tea gardens, had, similarly, been a powerful albeit unobtrusive influence. The new British Gurkhas, announced just before the 15th of August, 1947, have made these hot heads think of joining up to try and influence, quite how they did not yet know, the Gurkha soldiers against their British officers with such bad discipline that they be disbanded. It could just be that the organisers of the conference see a Malaya-based Nepali estate worker as a useful conduit for dissatisfied Gurkha soldiers to desert and even join the guerrillas – a long shot and probably impossible to achieve but …’
‘Yes, that makes sense,’ broke in John Theopulos. ‘My Nepali labour force could be a link in their planning. But who to send?’
‘I recommend Kamal Rai, whom I personally know, as he is the one and only man I trust to go and find out what it was all about. You know that he was my “eyes and ears” for much of the war. He could possibly find out if any such Nepalis attended the meetings, to recognise them and, were they to join the new British Gurkhas serving in Malaya, help to identify them.
‘Another reason for recommending Kamal Rai to go is that a principal attendant is Lee Soong. They knew each other during the war. He was a member of the post-war British Military Administration’s Singapore Advisory Council as well as now being on the Town Committee of the Communist Party of Malaya – they are not banned, you know – to say nothing of having been to Prague last year as a member of the World Federation of Democratic Youth. Tell Kamal to go to Singapore, contact me at a number I’ll give you and I’ll fully brief and finance him.’
John Theopulos was unhappy with all that but agreed to it, reluctantly: after all, Reggie does know what he’s talking about
Lance Sharkey stayed over in Singapore and before embarking for Calcutta, Reggie Hutton had found out that had had a private meeting with Chin Peng, a member of the Malayan Communist Party (MCP), and Lai Tek, a double agent working for the British, both of whom were in Singapore. He also found out that nothing substantial was discussed and an invitation was given to the Australian to attend the MCP’s 4th Plenary Session on his return from Calcutta.
There was a goodly gathering at the Youth Conference. When Kamal Rai set eyes on Lee Soong he felt sick at being so close to him. Lee Soong had originally thought Kamal had very little English but later he knew differently. Kamal and Reggie Hutton had wrongly presumed they had never conversed in English in his hearing.
The organisers of the programme were the same English-speaking Indians who later similarly organised the 2nd Plenum. The small group from French Indo-China who had been anti-Chinese longer than they had been anti-French, were keener to get rid of the latter than the former who had loomed over them for centuries, in this case being unable to change either history or geography. They did not speak English but an interpreter from the Air France office was found for them. Those from the Dutch East Indies were less lucky, speaking neither English nor French. One of them had learnt basic Arabic before going to Mecca and an Arabic speaker was found in one of the city banks. Despite not being altogether satisfactory, the all-powerful ‘Cause’ won the day.
It was Lee Soong who had asked about Mao Tse-tung and his guerrilla war. Luckily some homework had been done and copies of some of his dated writings were available for discussion. One was titled A Single Spark Can Start A Prairie Fire, published as far back as 3 January 1930. There were some extensive notes on guerrilla warfare, written in May 1938, but they were directed against Japan, not western imperialists and certainly not set in tropical rainforest terrain. But did it matter? It certainly brought forth more discussion than had the heavy-handed Soviet doctrine. It meant more to simple people. Eventually, much to Lance Sharkey’s chagrin, it was the Chinese doctrines that caused the most interest. Such points as, for instance, Six Specific Problems in Guerrilla War, Guerrilla Zones and Base Areas and The Basic Principle of War is to Preserve Oneself and Destroy the Enemy brought a spark of interest where little or none had previously been observed. But, as ever, there was a negative side to it as much was made of ideology and political education, heady stuff if one was a zealot but pretty meaningless when many ethnic Southeast Asians had no political vocabulary – democracy? fascist? feudal? what are they? – and ‘education’ merely meant a village school and boring homework. As for ‘ideology’ … ?
Sharkey’s speech went on for too long as he had to make many pauses for the interpreters. It had seemed so easy in theory but, sadly, in practice, to him, the Conference had not come up to expectations. Not enough thought had been put into the programme to start with: strategy or tactics? politics or armed struggle? people or leaders? guerrilla warfare with weapons or trade unions stoppages? It was all very well to quote Soviet doctrine: Surprise is the greatest factor in war. There are two kinds, tactical and strategic. Tactical surprise is an operational art. A skilled unit commander can generally achieve it. Strategic surprise is attained at the political level but what meaning did that convey to most of the listeners who, till then, had probably only ever held a catapult in their hands? ‘Look, what I’ve heard you talk about makes me realise that you have not got your act together. Here, in India, your communism stems from when the British tried to give you some of their educational ideas from way back in the nineteenth century. But since then you have split: some of you are Marxist, some are Marxist-Leninist and even some of you are trying to be Maoists. You will never achieve real communism until you all think alike. Can’t you see what I am getting at?’ he asked but no, his rhetoric was on too high a level and his Australian accent left the English speakers, including the interpreters, bewildered. ‘Anyone got any questions for me?’ he asked at the end.
‘Yes, I have,’ said a youth, holding up his arm.
‘Who are you and what is it you want to ask?’
‘I am a Darjeeling Nepali. My name is Padamsing Rai. My question is can you see any contradiction in the Chinese proposals and teaching compared with their Soviet counterparts?’
The Australian thought for a moment. What is he getting at? ‘No, Marx and Lenin are the bedrock of them both. Why should there be any difference?’
‘Because I have read that the Soviets try to impose their will on the countries of Europe, and even India, from the top downwards whereas the Chinese think that, once the masses know what is wanted and are converted, Communism will spread upwards. Would you agree with that? I want to know as I intend to work on the Gurkha soldiers in the British Army, in other words, start from the bottom. I can’t start at the top.’
That caused some of the staff to look at each other, almost in dismay, that analysis being new to them. Sharkey, having no definite answer and not wanting to seem ‘bested’ by a mere lad, said that although tactically matters were always different, strategically the two parties would never be far apart.
‘Thank you, sir,’ said the man from Darjeeling and sat down, looking round as he did as though he were more than pleased with himself.
After it was all over, Lee Soong told Padamsing Rai to enlist in one of the eastern regiments he had heard that was now part of the British Army, ‘Try to get a posting as a clerk, an intelligence man or an educational instructor, if possible in an army school, so as to spread the word among the Gurkha soldiers and to try and inveigle them to change sides or leave the army, in any case, so to disgrace the Gurkha name by indiscipline the War Office would disband them.’
Padamsing said he would try but, of course, there was no telling till he tried.
Lee Soong also spoke at length with Kamal Rai, telling him how he envisaged matters developing, with him to be a link with Padamsing Rai. ‘By the way, you remember when I had than man punished and killed for being a spy?’ Kamal shivered as he remembered it. ‘I’ll let you into a secret,’ continued the Chinese. ‘He was the wrong man. I thought he was you with your friend Hutton.’ He fixed the Gurkha with a gimlet-like stare. ‘If you manage with Padamsing Rai my suspicions will be allayed.’
Lee Soong did not go straight back to Singapore as he had meetings in Bangkok, with whom he did not divulge. Kamal returned to Singapore on the same boat as did Sharkey and fully briefed Reggie Hutton on what had transpired. As for Sharkey, he had a long session with Chin Peng, Lai Tek not being present, and strongly urged him to change current MCP policy to military action to try and overcome the Security Forces … thus setting the scene of much bloodshed and many brave deeds on both sides for the next decades.
It is, of course, a moot point indeed how much of what Calcutta tried to inculcate was responsible for the way in which events developed: what is not in doubt is that develop they did. What no one could have ever imagined was that one of very first, if not the first, British officer the Communists fired on to kill was, at the very last gasp of anti-British endeavour in 1968 after twenty years of Communist military activity, which would end not in the proverbial bang but the equally proverbial whimper, the very same British officer when three aborigine ‘blowpipe marksmen’ were ordered to aim their blowpipes at his head and shoot their poisoned darts to kill him … never having yet missed their intended target.
The author’s friend, Mr Denny, the proprietary owner of the nearby Sungei Pelek Estate, told him that the Japanese, believing his bungalow to be haunted, touched nothing the whole war when he was a prisoner. No local looted anything either. ↵
Its full name was The Conference of Youth and Students of Southeast Asia Fighting for Freedom and Independence. It lasted from the 19th to the 23rd of March. Its delegates were invited to attend the following 2nd Plenum of the Indian Communist Party. ↵
I
1948-1954
1
Malaya, early January 1948
When the troopship SS Empire Pride sailing from Burma– which had been given its independence five days earlier – carrying the 1st Battalion of the 12th Gurkha Rifles and two other British Army Gurkha battalions reached Prai, opposite the island of Penang, it was like coming back home after nearly ten years to only one of the passengers, Captain Jason Rance. With fair hair, penetrating, clear blue eyes, his features were almost hawk-like and stern. He showed his pleasure with a wonderful open smile. He was nearly six feet tall with a taut, lean body and the indefinable air of a natural commander. He was sixteen when he had left Malaya, hurriedly, for England and after a war in which he has seen action many times, here he was back again. Eyes fixed on Penang Hill, his mind drifted back all those years …
He had been born in Kuala Lumpur where his father, unobtrusively working in a revenue office, had, in fact, been Britain’s senior Intelligence officer in Malaya. Before her marriage, his mother had worked with her father’s Punch and Judy show and had learnt how to be a ventriloquist, her son also mastering this rare skill. He had his own dummy and a model krait, this latter he had acquired after he had watched a Gurkha soldier defang one of these lethal creatures with an elegant calmness.
Mr Rance’s Chinese partner’s son, Ah Fat, was the same age as Jason and the two boys became as close as brothers from when toddlers. They each had their Chinese nicknames, Ah Fat’s was P’ing Yee, Flat Ears, as his ears were close to his head, and Jason’s was Shandung P’aau, Shandong (Southern mountain) Cannon, as the people from that part of the world were strong and burly, as was Jason. By the time he was ten, Jason was a fluent Chinese speaker with a good knowledge of the writing. His Malay was almost as good as his Chinese. During their school holidays they used to go and camp in the jungle inland from the coastal village of Sepang and meet up with young Gurkhas from Bhutan Estate, becoming as ‘at home’ in the jungle as any seasoned Forest Ranger. He learnt to speak basic Gurkhali with one of his friends, Kamal Rai, his elder by a few years.
The crisis that had caused Jason to leave Malaya was instigated by Japanese intelligence operatives working with senior members of the banned Indian Independence League. It was thought that Rance senior had secret plans against any future Japanese militancy. The Japanese agent in Kuala Lumpur, Sugiyama Torashira, inveigled Akbar Khan, a Pathan lawyer for the overt Indian Association and, subversively, the Indian Independence League, to get his son, Tor Gul Khan, and his two nephews, Abdul Hamid Khan and Abdul Rahim Khan, to burgle Mr Rance’s office, disguised as a humble tool shed at the back of the garden, to retrieve what they could of Japanese interest. There was a fourth man who went with them, a Gurkha, Rabilal Rai from Bhutan Estate, who happened to be in Kuala Lumpur with his father who had to go there on business. They were prevented by Rance junior who happened to look out of the lavatory window and see them in the moonlight. He skilfully ambushed them, laying low all four and capturing them. They were handed over to the police, all four of them vowing to kill him if ever they got the chance. For his son’s safely, Rance senior sent him to England for the rest of his education – and then the war broke out.
