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‘His coolies are Goo K’a yan’ – the nearest he could get to ‘Gurkha men’ – ‘who did not fight with us against the Japanese. There were military Goo K’a bing who were beaten by the Japanese at the start of the war. There are now six battalions of Goo K’a bing in Malaya, the nearest being in Seremban. From what we know of them there will be little to fear from them. In any case, and this you will at all times keep to yourselves, I have learnt that there is a secret plan afoot that could make them into “paper tigers” just as the “running dogs”, their masters, already are.’ He was referring to the rumour of being gunners not infantrymen.

This the other two promised.

‘Time to go back,’ said the Killer, hawking and expertly spitting a gob of phlegm out of the opened wooden shutters and, heady from the drink and the excitement of what lay ahead of them, they called their bodyguards and quietly left for home, having given a right-handed, clenched-fisted salute, little realising that the Malay Communist Party now had a policy of not letting secret society men become members although they were extremely useful for strong-arm tactics.

Boss-eyed Grandfather pretended to hear nothing, likewise his son who helped serve the food and drink, but both of them had heard everything.

‘What have those soldiers based in Seremban been doing? What reports have you two had?’

It was a week after their last meal in the shop in the squatter area and the three Chinese Communist leaders had been busy. The Killer had visited Tanjong Sepat with a group of squatters and had taken out from a hidden dump sufficient arms and ammunition for their immediate needs and had also been deep into the jungle to inspect weapons and ammunition dumped there at the end of the war. Only about half seemed serviceable so a known armourer was put on the job of refurbishment where possible. Some he had brought back a couple of days later and suggested that a ‘sample be tried out on the rifle range’. This was a tract of comparatively open land which was too far for firing to be heard from the Killer’s own house and details of its use were left to a subordinate who lived nearer.

The Collector had visited a printing press in Seremban and picked up some Communist propaganda and receipt pads, while the Blood Sucker had made an extensive tour of the squatter area, detailing how many pigs and chickens had to be kept in reserve for emergencies as well as checking on rice stocks.

‘And during your travels, what have your learnt about the Goo K’a bing and their “running dog” commander?’ the Killer asked. ‘What reports have you for me?’

Apparently they stayed in their camp in Seremban, doing nothing to disrupt the guerrillas’ plans.

Saling Rubber Estate, 17½ Milestone, Johor Bahru-Kulai Road, Kulai, Johor, 10 May 1948

At the 5th Plenary Session of the Central Executive Committee, two months after the Australian Communist Leader who had ‘had words’ with Chin Peng now the Secretary General of the Malayan Communist Party, had gone back to Australia, a resolution was passed to take ‘resolute action, concerted struggle and the use of violence when necessary,’ but, in the minutes, there was no mention of any Soviet instruction for this. There was, after all, merit in starting what that uncouth and arrogant, ‘white-skinned pig’ barbarian, good communist though he was, and who, like all such people, smelled of bad meat, had said, even though Australian newspapers later denied that he had done any cajoling.

Malaya, 17 and 18 June, 1948

The High Commissioner declared an Emergency, first in one part of the country and the next day in the rest of it. This was because of increased Communist activity of murder, arson and sabotage. Orders for the use of firearms were also promulgated. At that time troops were not to fire unless first fired at.

Paroi Camp, Seremban, July 1948

The recruit intake at the small tented camp a few miles to the east of Seremban saw the arrival of the first batch of young men for the British Army’s new 12th Gurkha Rifles, both battalions. Most were not of a high educational standard, many almost illiterate, strong men, even if unlettered being the criterion. One was a Darjeeling schoolboy, educated well enough for clerical duties, possibly an educational instructor or, maybe, with training, a member of the intelligence section. His name was Padamsing Rai.

Sepang and environs , August 1948

‘Saheb, the Commanding saheb wants you in his office now.’ The runner had found Captain Rance in the battery stores doing a routine check.

‘Quartermaster ustad, you heard what the runner has said. I have to go away for a while. Let the fatigue party take a break until I come back.’

Hunchha, Hajur.’

On his way to the CO’s office, Rance started to question his conscience about any misgivings the CO might have … but his thoughts snapped back to the present as a file of men marching past him gave him an ‘eyes right’, which he answered with a smart salute. He reported to the Adjutant. ‘Straight in. You’re wanted urgently.’

Jason entered the CO’s office, saluted and waited, at attention, till the Colonel finished a telephone conversation. He noticed a wall map which had not been there before. The CO put the phone down. ‘Rance, a surprise for you. One that you will enjoy, I feel sure. Come and look at the map. I have a man-sized task for you now that the Emergency has been declared.’

Jason thrilled. ‘That sounds exciting, sir.’

‘So far what trouble has occurred has chiefly been in the north and farther south but the CPO, the Chief Police Officer, of Negri Sembilan, is worried that a cell of wartime guerrillas, dormant till now, is dismantling an old arms and ammo dump left over from the war at …’ and he peered at the map and made a stab with his right forefinger, ‘here. At Tanjong Sepat, VU 4537, on the coast. All these new Malay names. I’m not used to them. From the shape of the area I guess it means promontory or something similar.’

Jason peered at the map. ‘Got it, sir. Yes, “tanjong” means “promontory”.’

‘Farther inland is the small village of Sepang. Here we are. Grid reference VU 700417. No need to take that down yet. The CPO is worried that this suspected guerrilla gang that is believed to have its base in the squatter area between the jungle and the rubber estates is preparing to cause some sort of havoc. Special Branch has had information about an increase in donations, as a Chinese Blood Sucker politely calls them, as well as hearing what can only be range firing on several mornings and evenings a week and, curiously, bugle calls. It looks as if thorough and extensive preparations are being made for some major nastiness.’

Indeed, that is what it did look like.

‘That’s where you’re going. Whether you actually come across the range in such a large area, always presuming the baddies fire their weapons in the same place and when you are in earshot, is highly questionable. It has not been pin-pointed and probably the clam-like civilians won’t tell you, even if they do know. You don’t have the time, the skill or the equipment to venture an approach to the area from the jungle so your entry into the area will be more difficult to keep secret.’

Obviously he’s no idea how to use the jungle as we did in Burma. Why send a CO whose wartime experience was only in the desert and in Europe? Being a Gunner and not having served in India, he has a ‘red-coat’ mentality as we more irreverent junior officers say.

‘The local police are not keen to go and investigate and the planting fraternity is worried. Your task, Rance, is to take a troop of Q Battery, a cook and two vehicles to the area and find out just what is happening. We are so short of kit you won’t even have a wireless set. In case of an emergency you’ll have to do the best you can until you get to a phone on a rubber estate or the Police Station in Sepang. Once there your initial task is to visit as many of the ten European estate managers in the area as you have time for. I have met some of them when they have come to the club in Seremban on a Saturday night. Many are anti-army, thinking that they were let down during the war. The last thing they want is more trouble now that the Japanese are no longer around. Make a note of the three estates with a Gurkha labour force, Bhutan, Bute and Lothian. You are to try and impress those three about how good Gurkhas are as I fear they do not have a particularly good opinion of them as fighters.’

Jason was stunned and his eyes burned. ‘How come, sir? We wouldn’t have won the war in Burma without them.’

‘No, Rance. Those managers are like all the rubber planters I’ve met so far. Parochial in the extreme. I was not a Far East soldier but I have learnt that the three Gurkha battalions had no chance against the Japanese here in Malaya in 1942 – all stuffed full of too many raw soldiers with weak leadership at the top is one reason why they look down on us now and the other, believe it or not, is that apparently none joined the Chinese guerrillas or British stay-behind parties after the Japanese victory.’ The CO wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

‘Jolly unfair and narrow-minded, if you ask me.’ Rance automatically braced his back, an unconscious habit, in mute protest.

‘I agree. Also you’ll find, I think, that none of the three managers with Gurkhas speaks Nepali. Only Malay. We all know that our men only give of their best under certain conditions and weak leadership in a foreign language doesn’t help. Talking about the club, what impressions have you come away with after your visits there? I mean as far as the European civilians are concerned, not types like the Garrison Engineer or the Claims and Hirings boffin.’

Jason pondered. ‘The junior planters are mostly wartime servicemen, like myself. They seem a decent enough lot but as for their seniors, the managers, those of them who didn’t get away to India or Australia in 1942, seem most reticent even to acknowledge our presence. They had a terrible time as prisoners of war and I suppose that took all the stuffing out of them.’

The CO listened intently. ‘I fully agree. Also those who were in the bag tend to look down on those who did manage to get away. They see it as “unsportsmanlike”. And, sadly, they look down on us British officers because “we” didn’t put up a better show against those blasted Japs.’

‘That means my job will have an extra dimension, sir,’ commented Jason, with a quick intake of breath.

‘Indeed so. And to add to what I’ve just said, they also have an inferiority complex as they think that we think of them as “whisky-swilling planters”, not up to our standards as “pukka sahibs” or however they say that in their local language.’

Jason bit his lip. ‘A two-fronted approach is needed and, probably, whichever way I play it will be wrong.’

‘Now, back to your task after that digression,’ said the CO, ‘I’ve arranged for you to take over part of the ADO’s place. It’s empty – he’s a Malay and has bugged out – and, apart from trying to help the morale of the managers, you are to do as much patrolling of the squatter areas and jungle fringes as you have time for. Even though the Emergency has been declared only shoot if they open fire first. You can’t open fire at the tykes even if you see them in uniform and armed. Try and capture them, yes. You might also get the men to have a “flag march” in a vehicle when you’re with the managers.’ A thought struck him. ‘By the way, how much Malay do you speak?’

Now is the time to tell him my background. ‘Sir, you may not know it but I was born and bred in Malaya. I have a near perfect command of Chinese and am almost as equally fluent in Malay. The area you have pointed out to me is where my closest boyhood friend, a Chinese named Ah Fat, and I used to go camping during our school holidays. Once I’m in the area, which I presume will only be more overgrown and have more squatters than before, I’ll almost be on home territory.’

‘Thank you for telling me,’ said the CO. ‘You’ll be of tremendous use for future operations’ and wonderful to be such a gifted linguist.

‘What are my orders if I find communist literature in a squatter’s shack?’

‘If you have the resources and the time, kick out the inhabitants, bring them back to hand over to the police and, if there is not too much of it, bring the literature back with you.’

‘And if we are fired on from inside a shack, retaliate and kill someone?’

The CO was, Jason saw, unsure of himself.

‘Oh, tell the police about any corpses you left there and were probably burnt when you set fire to the shack.’

‘Understood. Drastic and simple. When do you want me to leave, sir, and for how long?’ This has to be better than running round those 25-pounders on gun drill.

‘Today is, let me see – how quickly time flies with so much to do – Tuesday. Make it after your morning meal on Thursday for an initial ten days. Far too short a time with too few men for anything more than skimming the place but, who knows, you may have a lucky break. If you are on to something big you’ll be extended and, probably, reinforced. Have a look at the map first and if there are any questions I’ll try to answer them.’

Jason looked at the map. His practiced eye measured the area the CO had pointed out as the target. Taking the western boundaries of the estates and the eastern boundary of the jungle the area is seventeen miles across and, from north to south, twenty-five miles long. You could lose a brigade there for a month and yet my few men only have ten days. ‘Before I mention anything operational, there is one tiny niggle, sir, the map shows Sepang inside Negri Sembilan and the outer reaches of my area in Selangor, yet the CPO of the former wants us there. Presumably he’s cleared it with his opposite number so it’s not my worry. It will be a change from just being in the lines and a great chance to see how these easterners compare to the westerners I was used to,’ and he smiled in anticipation of assessing any differences.

‘I know, I know. But whatever little you do find has to be more than nobody going there at all.’ Jason nodded enthusiastically. ‘Tell the Adjutant to alert OC Q Battery for the troop,’ the CO continued, ‘the Quartermaster for the rations to be drawn and the MTO for two vehicles to stay with you and spare fuel in jerry cans.’

Are sens