The company had ‘stood to’ on hearing the shooting and heard Chakré shout, ‘Saheb, it’s Chakré here. Come to me and we’ll go and see if we can capture the daku.’
Jason, picking up his hat, shouted out, ‘the section on the perimeter this side come out and join us,’ and, seeing Chakré, joined him. It took just too long to react at such short notice that by the time the section joined Chakré and Jason, it was too dark to go any farther. ‘What is that?’ asked one, pointing to the ground. He bent down and picked up a cap. He squinted at it and saw it had a red star in the front. He looked inside but by then it was too dark to see if there was any blood.’
‘Back to camp,’ Jason called.
The 2ic came up to him. ‘Saheb, any damage?’
By the light of a cooking fire Jason showed him his hat with a bullet hole each side. ‘I heard the sounds of birds and monkeys make on men or a wild animal approaching so I put my hat on a stick and kept low myself so I was in no danger,’ he said, ‘but without Chakré the result could have been different.’
I’m glad I sent the lad out the 2ic thought.
‘Saheb, I doubt they will come back but we cannot take that for granted. Double the sentries and have a proper stand to at 0545 hours tomorrow. Once it’s light we’ll go and see if we can find those daku who fired at me.’ A few minutes later Chakré brought him a brew of hot tea. Jason said, ‘Chakré, I owe my life to you. I’ll never forget it.’
That night, in his troubled state, he had another dream: he was walking up the church aisle, having put on his ceremonial uniform. His feet felt cold and he looked down, he was bare-footed. ‘Stay as you are,’ said his Best Man. Then ‘do your shirt up, it’s open,’ the Best Man whispered. Jason turned and saw everyone in the pews either side were looking at him. Then the padre, whose face was like a guerrilla’s, came down and shook him. ‘Saheb, it’s Chakré here. You have had a bad dream. Don’t worry, all will be well now.’
The next morning ‘fan’ patrols went out on bearings from 10 to 90 degrees and one of them, after only twenty minutes moving cautiously, saw a body – is it in a firing position? – at the base of a tree. ‘Don’t go any farther forward,’ murmured the patrol commander. ‘Let us watch it closely.’
After ten minutes of no movement at all, the patrol commander softly said, ‘It’s dead. The daku don’t leave their dead behind like that. The other daku who were with him will be in an ambush position, thinking we won’t think of that.’ He considered his options. ‘You two,’ he detailed them, ‘go back to the company base and tell the saheb what we’ve found. Bring back enough men to get behind the corpse but only bring the commander to where we are. Off you go.’
Hidden close by and watching the corpse, one of the two remaining guerrillas said, ‘we’ll give them another two hours to find it. We have a long way to go and we can’t take him with us. Great Lenin, we were sent away with too few men,’ and he relapsed into stony silence.
Within the hour Jason and his ‘O’ Group of two platoon commanders, with phantom quietness, reached the watching patrol. The corpse was pointed out. ‘I haven’t seen anyone else,’ admitted the patrol commander, ‘but it is so unlike the daku to leave a body behind, there may be an ambush.’
‘You couldn’t have done better,’ Jason breathed his reply. ‘I’ll take my men back and go round to the rear of the corpse, keeping well out of sight. Once I have decided that the area is empty, I’ll emerge to where the corpse is, so don’t open fire. If there is anyone else and we can deal with them, you’ll know soon enough.’
His ‘O’ Group silently withdrew and, one platoon to the right and the other to the left, moved to a position about three hundred yards to the rear of the corpse. Then, having met up, they moved forward in extended line, weapons ready, eyes a-quiver left and right. It was the section commander next to Jason who saw two bodies, lying down facing in the direction the Gurkhas were moving, about ten paces away. He put his arm up, the signal to halt. All eyes were on them: everyone saw that they were either dozing or had fallen asleep,
Jason signalled to right and left, gesticulating by moving his fingers as though walking quietly and opening and closing his arms as though to hold on to, that is say, capture the two men. Four men on each side went forward, quietly as though on tiptoe and, standing above the men, who they saw were dozing, were just about to pounce on them when they both ‘felt a presence’ and turned round. It was their last free movement. They were overpowered by the Gurkhas who hauled them to their feet. Jason went forward and spoke to them in Chinese. ‘Are you the men who fired on us last evening?’
One of the daku spat in disgust and said, ‘filthy imperialist running dog.’
Jason then damned them both, with the most devastating curse known to the Chinese, ‘Ch’uan Jia Chan’, May your entire family be wiped out.
‘Who are you? What are your names? Although I have cursed you I am not a bully. I’ll take you back to our camp. You look tired and hungry. If you tell me truthfully who you are, where you are based and other questions that I ask you, I’ll cook food for you and let you rest.’
The older looking of the two spat again. ‘Curse you, too, gwai lo.’
Jason took his rifle, loaded it and pointed it at the man’s foot. ‘Say that again …’
The man was about to speak when the other man cried out, ‘No, no. I’ll tell you all …’
His companion told him to be quiet and Jason fired, missing the elder man’s foot by a quarter of an inch. The man jumped back in alarm, pulling his captives with him.
Through clenched teeth, he told Jason who he was, finishing up with being Tan Fook Leong’s deputy.
‘Were you in the ambush that killed that British officer?’
No answer.
Jason loaded his rifle. ‘I won’t kill you. Just make it impossible for you to be a father ever again and leave you here to rot.’ I can’t actually see myself doing that …
The man sighed deeply and muttered, ‘Yes.’
Jason ordered them to be bound with the toggle ropes that men had hanging from the belts. ‘Take your khukris and cut down a branch. Hang the corpse from it and our prisoners will take it to our camp. I will make my way back separately and get on the blower and ask for a heli to take them away. This man has admitted he was in the ambush that killed the Commanding saheb.’
Back in their overnight camp Jason put a call through to Battalion HQ and, once Acorn was on set, told him what had happened and who they had captured. ‘I want a heli to take them out as they are Ten Foot Long’s number 2 and two others. Instead of my searching for a good place for a Lima Papa, suggest you send 96 Foxtrot to overfly my area which is …’ and he gave a six-figure grid reference.
‘1. Here is Sunray. Wait out.’
Lieutenant Colonel Gibson came on set and for once his tone seemed to be friendlier than normal. ‘I understand you have captured Sunray minor of figures two regiment. Is that correct? Over.’
‘1. That is what he says. I believe he is telling the truth. The dead man tried to kill me last night when I was having a rear. He’ll smell badly soon. Request a heli urgently here, unless you want me to make my two captives bury him. Over.’
‘1. No, do not bury him. Send him with the others. I’ll arrange for 96 Foxtrot to be over you within the hour. Roger so far, over.’
‘1, roger, over.’
‘Well done. Congratulate the men from me. I will now get Acorn to arrange heli and an LP recce while I appraise Big Sunray. Out.’
An Auster aircraft flew over the camp site within the hour and, ready on the set, told Jason where a Landing Point was. ‘Six hundred yards to your north-northeast,’ the pilot said.
Jason thanked him. He did not ask him if he knew when a heli would be there as he knew that the pilot would have told him if he had known. He heard the pilot call Battalion HQ and waited for a call from Acorn. It came five minutes later to tell him that the heli would take six passengers, that the pilot insisted that the corpse be wrapped up – ‘he will bring a body bag’ – and that the two prisoners would be tightly bound. ‘Send three soldiers with the daku, weapons not, repeat not, loaded but khukris drawn once they have emplaned. ETA 1430 hours. Over.’
‘Wilco, out.’
Jason and Chakré, with an escort, accompanied the two daku, still carrying the corpse, to the LP, getting there in good time. They heard the machine before they saw it and Jason marshalled it in to where panels, always a burden to carry but, today, of great use, had been fixed into the ground. The crewman threw out a body bag.
Once the body bag had been stowed in the heli, Jason, ducking under the idling rotors, climbed up to tell the pilot the body bag was filled and stowed.
‘Good. Please show the prisoners to the crew man who will ensure that their bindings are strong enough. Three of your men as escort?’
Jason nodded.
‘You look tired and you pong but that is not your fault.’
Jason grinned at him. ‘I’ll wash at the next river,’ he chortled back and climbed down onto the ground. He went round to where the crew man was inspecting the prisoners’ bindings.
‘They’re okay so in with them,’ the crew man called out. They were physically hoisted aboard and rolled on the floor before being put in the sitting position in a corner by their Gurkha escort. The door was shut and Jason went in front of the heli and signalled to the pilot with his arms outstretched, hands upwards. Inside, the crew man tapped the pilot’s leg.
Rotors speeded up and away it flew. Jason and his men went back to the camp and reported that the heli had left with the prisoners.
That evening, looking at his map, he reckoned that, using normal speed, they would be out of the jungle onto a main road ready to be picked up in three days so another airdrop was not needed.
23 September 1954, south Thailand: Ah Fat and the Bear, along with the rest of his escort, planned to move down to Ha La. They would need to take a cyclostyle machine with them, a lot of ink and the two types of paper. It would be a slow and difficult journey through the jungle. They could have moved to the east onto a secondary road but that was considered an unacceptable security risk so the slower, more laborious route was mandated. Ah Fat knew that he had his work cut out to find the right balance between what was needed in his ‘mole’ mode and not to cause Politburo suspicion in their edition. It would take time before the couriers would know where to find where the new journals were to be collected. I’ll play it by ear. What was it Jason had taught me? Oh yes, Order, counter-order, disorder.
Just in case he had a bad dream that last night, he tied a cloth round his head, under his chin, to stop any likelihood of his talking in his sleep. I am so near to starting Operation Red Tidings in earnest.
25 September 1954, Seremban: A Company was finally back in camp, tired but delighted with their successes. The other three rifle companies had also been withdrawn and a week’s ‘rest and relaxation’ followed weapon cleaning, re-clothing and re-equipping so as to be ready for more deployment. None had had any contacts and the redoubtable Tan Fook Leong was still in charge of a considerable force.
