Ah Fat asked for a piece of paper and a ball-point and wrote 孟儒, Meng Ru but pronounced Mang Yu in Cantonese, and gave it to Colonel. I’d love to be able to speak, read and write Chinese but I’d never have any time for proper soldiering had I done so, he thought. ‘Have you any other points?’ he asked Ah Fat.
‘Yes sir, my own personal position in the MCP organisation, as a non-voting Politburo member. If both the Emissary and I disappear together there will be an almighty large hue and cry’ – I learnt that phrase in school but have never used it till today. Glad I remembered it. ‘I can manage the Emissary’s disappearance by getting him to say he wants to go back to China as he came, individually, rather than wait and go back with the Secretary General who is waiting for permission to go and live there. I could even volunteer to take him to the nearest road, towards Sadao to cross the border into Malaya at Danok rather than east to Ha La or to Songkhla but I expect they would want, even for protocol purposes, to have more than only me to take him there.’
He was interrupted at that piece of news of Chin Pen’s intention of going to China as none had yet heard it. He was asked for more details, gave them, including that Ah Hai, now returned from China cured of his tuberculosis, would be the Deputy Secretary General remaining in Betong. Ah Fat continued. ‘I am still held in high regard by Chin Peng who does not in any way suspect what I am doing here. I don’t like the task I’ve set myself but I can’t renege now. In other words, once I have returned to Betong I cannot leave of my own accord. That means I cannot escort the Emissary.’
‘So how will you get round that problem without him changing his mind?’ It was C C Too who asked.
‘I have only one option and that is to get the Bear, sorry, my deputy Wang Ming, to take my place but only as far as the border. If there is an affirmative reply to his request I think the Emissary will accept him. I might just be able to start him off if I am allowed to take him to where my printing of that newspaper Red Tidings was done at Ha La. I have to go there in any case as it will no longer be published now that the peace talks have failed and I will have to get the equipment brought back. Even then I’ll have a working party with me.’
‘Not easy. Let’s hope he accepts your deputy,’ said the General, adding, ‘Now, Mr Too, what about his Chinese-speaking Englishman? Any ideas?’
I’ll answer this in a roundabout way. ‘Sir, the Chinese Affairs Departments in the states and here in HQ must have Europeans who can manage the language but their jobs are sedentary. They may be fit enough for a set of tennis or a game of squash but other than that, no, they won’t be fit enough to cover the ground that we have chosen.’
‘Not even being met by car on the nearest road?’ queried the General.
‘They will have to meet the Emissary in Malaya at the border but even though he came from China on a passport, the countries he passed through were Communist but Malaya surely won’t accept a Chinese passport with no visa.’
‘Then that puts the road journey right out of play?’ said the General. ‘It looks like being the jungle or nothing. Yet quite how we fix his documents if he is allowed in is something we here can’t answer. That means the jungle route is the one we have to take whether we or he likes it or not.’
‘Yes, sir. It is,’ said Ah Fat. ‘Most probably the Emissary is not a jungle man, almost bound not to be but he is determined enough otherwise he’d never have reached Betong from China the way he did. But he will need escorting: there is only one man I know who is a canny jungle escort and a Chinese speaker of the standard needed.’
‘You don’t have to tell me who you have in mind, do you?’ asked with an innocent smile.
‘You know as well as I do, sir. There’s only man who can do the job, Captain Jason Rance.’
‘Yes, I agree with you on that but he is no longer a Captain,’ said the General. ‘I insisted on his promotion to Major after trying to persuade that Ten Foot Long to surrender and all the other outstanding jungle work he and his men have done,’ although, sadly, no bravery award was forthcoming.
At that very moment the Major under consideration was again doing something that, as far as others knew, had not been done before quite like he was doing it. A well-known Communist Terrorist was reported by some ‘friendly’ rubber tappers to be due to meet them for rations during a period covering four days. The rubber estate was extensive and the cover crop was almost nil so there was no place to hide. Any of the Security Forces who laid an ambush in the area would be doomed to failure and, indeed, any guerrilla could be seen were he to contact the tappers so only a chance patrol might be lucky in a contact. However, there was a small stream running though part of the estate and, as the ground there was marshy it had no trees in it but unkempt undergrowth. It had been decided that Major Rance would take five men and lie up in the undergrowth and, if successful in capturing the guerrilla, Rance’s language skills could speedily alert battalion HQ before any of the guerrilla’s compatriots knew he had been captured.
The approach march was long and tortuous to avoid three sets of labour lines. In order not to give his position away by smelling where they had defecated, all six of them had taken a double dose of medicine to make them constipated. Extra water bottles were carried and hard tack only taken to avoid cooking. The group settled in before dawn on Day 1 and, while it was still light and before any tappers arrived, made sure there were no signs of their entry into the undergrowth. It was presumed that the tappers would put their stuff in the scrub and the guerrilla, more than one most likely, would come along the stream early in the morning and leave, with their booty at dusk. Mosquitoes were in profusion and face veils rather than repellent were used to avoid the smell. It rained hard on the first three evenings to the men’s excruciating discomfort.
There was great relief among the ambush when they heard rustling at about nine o’clock on the fourth morning and they discerned a tapper furtively putting some stuff on the ground just inside the undergrowth. The tapper did not notice the Gurkhas who waited with the utmost expectancy all day. It was the sheerest bad luck that, although the guerrillas did come late on that last day, they had one ploy that no one had previously considered. A couple of dogs roamed ahead of them and, on finding the Gurkhas hiding in the undergrowth, set up such a aggressive barking that the guerrillas knew that it had to be someone hostile hiding there so long after tapping hours so they turn back unseen by the ambush.
‘We nearly had them, didn’t we,’ said Jason. ‘You did wonderfully well to stay so quiet in such unpleasant circumstances and I am proud of you. Time to go back. Pack up and on our way. Without any radio contact the vehicle should have come to pick us up by 1600 hours at the labour lines, a mile down the road.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’ll be there already.’
‘Saheb, what she we do with the stuff the tapper has left lying around?’ asked one of the men.
‘I have a wicked idea. Finish any water in your water bottles and get rid of it naturally as you pass the stuff. That’s the best way to relieve our frustration.’
The CO of 1/12 Gurkha Rifles, Lieutenant Colonel Eustace Vaughan, had served in 3/12 GR during the war. He was one of many Indian Army British officers transferred to the Royal Artillery after Partition before making his escape to command 1/12 GR, so he knew nobody. He was a small, barrel-chested, bouncy man, round-faced, bushy-browed and clean-shaven, with a deep voice. He handled Gurkhas well but his handling of British officers was apt to be clumsy. He had been CO since 31 July of the previous year.
The out-going CO had written the all-important annual confidential reports for the officers, brought forward because of the change in command. The then Captain Rance was graded ‘C’, average: with a ‘C’ grading no officer could expect to rise above the rank of major. Remarks on Rance’s operational ability were cattily clouded because of the fiasco during one operation which was in no way his fault and a difficult interview with the Royal Air Force’s top brass over bombing or not bombing guerrilla camps. ‘Yes, he can be good but I advise you to watch him. He would not have been commissioned pre-war.’
It was less than a month ago that the Director of Intelligence had rung him about Captain Rance being ‘needed’[2] – he did not know what for – so he was not best pleased to get yet another unexpected phone call from Kuala Lumpur, this time from the Director of Operations himself. ‘Eustace, you are a patient man aren’t you?’ was the strange opening remark.
‘Well, sir, one has to be in any army job if one does not want a gastric ulcer, doesn’t one?’
‘Surely so. I have the unusual task of having to steal an officer of yours once again and I am ringing in person for two reasons. The first is that I overcame your Brigadier’s categorically telling you not to promote Captain Rance and made a personal request with the Military Secretary’s branch in the MOD. Rather stepping on your toes but needs be et cetera.’
‘Understood, sir. I can’t really cavil at that can I?’
‘No good if you did, Eustace. Now listen. Hush-hush. I have just learnt, today as ever is, that there is an intelligence plum, a ripe and juicy one, that has fallen off its tree but has yet to be picked up by us. If we don’t get hold of it soon we’ll lose it and that would be a great pity. Whatever your thoughts of Major Rance happen to be, and I can guess both pros and cons, you may not yet realise his Chinese linguistic ability. I doubt there is another European his equal, certainly at sounding like a Chinese, in the country. I personally need him as he is the only man who fits the bill. He will require a small group of men, say four or five, one of whom is to be a radio operator. I cannot give you more details now but please do your best to lend him to me.’
He’s got me by the short and curlies, hasn’t he? ‘Sir, there is no real difficulty. He is due home leave very soon and I have to appoint another officer to take over his company. While he is away I’ll get his Company 2 ic to concentrate on getting the administration shipshape before the new man takes over. Any idea of how long Rance will be needed?’
‘I’d like to think not more than a week or ten days at the outside. What I want is him up here pronto to be briefed, go back, prepare himself than to disappear over the horizon.’
‘What shall I tell people this end, sir?’
‘Oh, let’s see. A general operational and intelligence briefing about his methods for the updated pamphlet of jungle warfare we are writing for the Federation Armed Forces when we finally hand over to them. He’s done enough for a personal debriefing in depth.’
‘I’ll ensure he does what you want, sir. Have you anything more for me?’ The question went unanswered as the General had already put his phone back on its cradle.
Colonel Vaughan had been influenced against Rance by his predecessor’s report. He had also taken a dislike to him. The reason that no one could guess was that the Colonel’s dead younger brother, whom he had idolised as being a better all-rounder than he himself had been, was not only the same age as Jason Rance but also somehow resembled him, was killed in the war whereas Rance had survived. The wrong man died was a recurring and secret mantra, acting as a recurring grudge in the senior’s approach to the junior. In Gurkha regiments numbers of officers were too few for the junior in a personality clash to avoid discrimination without leaving the regiment. Rance had no intention of so doing.
10 February
So what do you think of all that, Major Rance?’ Colonel Mason asked after giving him the whole story, Ah Fat having already told him his side of affairs, about the Bear standing in for him. It was a week after the two Chinese had left Betong. ‘It really does look as if this whole business hangs on you personally. You can’t say “no” can you?’ There were in his office, which was wired off from the others. ‘So far, so good?’
‘Sir, being on a short list of one brooks so argument,’ Jason said with a wry smile. ‘So far so good, sir, as far as taking the job on and dealing with this Emissary man is concerned. On the reverse of the coin there is guerrilla activity to be considered as well. Without a very much larger force, I mean were we to meet all thirty of the notional guerrillas still on the Wanted List, I would need a minimum of two platoons. But for this task I don’t want to be cluttered with all the administrative complications of having so many men to look after. In my mind’s eye I was thinking of at least two escorts, gunmen if you like, and a radio operator.’ He broke off and pursed his lips in thought. He turned to his boyhood friend.
‘How long can the Bear and his few men be out of camp without raising suspicion of any unauthorised activity, shall I call it?’ He spoke in English.
‘Yes, I see what you mean and why you ask. I think the longest he can be away safely is the time it takes to meet up with you, hand the Emissary over and return.’
The implications of that were not lost on any of the listeners.
‘So I’ll be on my own in hostile territory. The map reading won’t be hard, both ways just go along the course of the river. But meeting any hostiles puts another slant on matters. I can manage the language side of meeting them but that is not enough. I need to calm any initial suspicions if we do happen to meet head on. I think I can manage that but I may break military etiquette if I do.’
