As they crossed the dry paddy fields they saw, to their happiness, that the car was waiting for them. Approaching, they waved to the driver who waved back. As they reached the car, he wrinkled his nose and said, ‘Sinsaang, you and your friend need a good wash. I have fixed up a place for us three for the night,’ and, with the panache of a good conjuror, produced a thermos and two cups. ‘I am sure a drink of hot tea is what could be just what you want here and now,’ he said.
To show his gratitude at the man’s forethought, Jason sang the first two lines of the popular Chinese pop song, Green Plumb and a Bamboo Horse, in a shrill falsetto, ‘My heart is full of hope and I wish we could do more than just talk as a couple. It would be a chance to open our hearts together and maybe go to see a film.’[1]
The driver bent double in laughter, unable to join in although he knew the words.
They started off for KL just before dawn, having paid their bill before they turned in for the night. Christmas Day, a public holiday, meant less traffic on the road than normal and they reached Kuala Lumpur in daylight. Jason suddenly remembered the date, which he had entirely forgotten, and wondered if Miss Wong would be having a family party. He told the driver to stop at a café where he could telephone and ask her.
She answered the phone and seemed delighted when she recognised Jason’s voice. ‘Oh yes, come to my place. Mr C C Too is also here, and here he is, wanting to talk to you. I’ll hand the phone to him.’
‘Jason, all okay? Just yes or no, no details.’
‘Yes, but, and I’ll tell you the but when we meet.’
‘Nothing serious?’
‘Not to us. All later.’
They sat down to a Christmas dinner at 9 p.m., Jason first giving C C Too the secret papers before being ‘wiped clean’ by Chakré, followed by a glorious shower and putting on their own clothes. Mr Too was rabidly curious about what had happened and it was only after the last mince pie did Miss Wong excuse herself and leave the men. Missing nothing out as Jason told his story, also mentioning how Ah Fat had some sort of premonition about the attaché case and begged it.
‘He’s more than welcome to it. And, I may have something for you. How many bullets did you fire?’
Jason told him. ‘I will give you the same number of live bullets before you leave us.’
A frown crossed Jason’s brow but before he could ask why, he was told ‘if you don’t have the same amount of rounds as when you left when you hand back the pistols, you will have to explain yourselves,’ and he chuckled, showing he ‘knew all about it’.
‘Thank you, it hadn’t occurred to me. You have saved me having to answer some awkward questions.’
C C Too fully examined the papers and seeing that the Soviet Union and China were both heavily interested in what was happening to the MCP and that ‘the fight must be continued’ he briefed the relevant people. The Alliance government, not having been given their provenance, was not sure how accurate that news was and as the origin of the information was not forthcoming, disregarded it thereby wasting valuable ‘ammunition’.
24 December 1955, South Thailand: During the morning Lee An Tung saw Ah Fat going into his quarters and thought now was the time to make an arrest. Calling one of the patrol guards to him, he said, ‘Comrade, I want you as witness when I make a serious arrest. Come with me.’
The guard, trying not to show any surprise, merely trailed after Lee An Tung who surged forward. On reaching Ah Fat’s abode, he opened the door without any preliminary knocking and strode inside. Ah Fat, sitting on a chair, got up. ‘What can I do for you, comrade?’ he asked in his normal voice.
‘I have come to arrest you for stating a falsehood and being a traitor to the cause.’
Ah Fat looked at the speaker, a perplexed expression on his face. ‘Pray elucidate, comrade.’
‘For stating you had a suitcase with a false bottom when you do not have such an item in your possession. I’ve had my suspicions ever since learning you had been to see the Director of Operations in Kuala Lumpur with a C C Too: we were all suspicious so, as most of the Politburo are not here, I took the liberty of searching your room when you were in another part of the camp. I found no such item, hence my action here and now.’ He turned to his guard. ‘Seize him.’
‘Not so fast, comrade, not so fast. Just have a look on that table in the corner will you before you do anything really stupid?’
His complacent manner did not deflate Lee An Tung, who merely thought traitor Ah Fat was trying to delay the moment of truth. ‘See that the comrade does not try to escape,’ he said over his shoulder as he bounced towards the table. He saw nothing like a suitcase with a false drawer. ‘What is it you want to show me?’ he demanded peremptorily? ‘I see nothing here.’
Ah Fat slowly went over to the table and lifted a pile of papers, thus disclosing a small black suitcase. Saying nothing, he picked it up, opened it and, pressing a button in its side, showed the by-now perplexed Lee An Tung how the bottom had opened on a hinge and showed its secret compartment.
Lee An Tung staggered backwards in acute embarrassment.
Suavely and chuckling inside himself, Ah Fat, in as cold a voice as possible, said ‘dismiss the escort.’ With gimlet eyes looking at his adversary, ‘Do you arrest me for telling you an untruth or do I arrest you for stating two deliberate falsehoods in front of a mere nobody, to my acute detriment?’
Realising he had put himself firmly in the wrong, Lee An Tung abjectly apologised, asking fraternal forgiveness for being wrongly over-zealous.
Ah Fat, inside mightily relieved, paused before answering. ‘Comrade, if you are sincere, let us shake hands on your mistake, neither of us ever mentioning your abysmal error ever again.’
It was accepted. They shook hands and Lee An Tung almost slunk out of the room.
25 December 1955, Baling: When the two men who had gone hunting did not come back the Security Section chief put it down to defection so nothing said was the easiest way of dealing with the situation.
31 December 1955, Seremban: Jason and Chakré got back to the battalion at the end of the year and life carried on as usual.
31 December 1955, south Thailand: The Politburo, with its non-voting member, met and passed a resolution that the Secretary General would go to China and, until the MRLA was ready for Phase 2 of its military struggle to be launched, only activity in the border area would continue. In any case many states were declared ‘white’, full peacetime conditions prevailing as remaining guerrillas were eliminated. It was also decided that there was now no advantage in continuing the production of Red Tidings, issues of which had lapsed over the excitement of the peace talks.
The poem Trip To Changgan (長干行, Nanking’s old name) is the base of the pop song Green Plum and Bamboo Horse (Li Bo 701-767). A young man and a young woman, intimate childhood friends, grow up together. He used to play with a piece of bamboo and pretend to ride on it as if it was a horse, and holding a green plum. Now in love and the time has come for them to marry, they look back to their childhood days with fond memories. ↵
Postscript
June 1970, Jungle Warfare School, south Johor, Peninsular Malaysia: In the fifteen years since Operation Red Tidings and its similarly named newspaper had become history, much had happened. Officers with sufficient jungle expertise and seniority to command the British army’s Jungle Warfare School were a diminishing breed, almost an endangered species, in that the path to promotion now lay in Western Europe. The Military Secretary, a most senior officer, was wondering who could fill the recent vacancy for the job during the last couple of years of its existence before the British Government’s ‘East of Suez’ policy of only keeping troops in Hong Kong and Brunei because Hong Kong and Brunei were paying for them. He called for a list of possible starters and his eye fell on the name of Major Rance, 1/12 GR. He asked for his file and read it. He is not as well staff-trained as a lieutenant colonel should be but he has earned ‘staff qualified’ for a job he did in Bangkok, he has much jungle experience and a prodigious linguistic ability. Let him be promoted to do the job, the Military Secretary decided. Thus it was that Jason Rance found himself a lieutenant colonel, the last ever incumbent of the Jungle Warfare School in July 1968.
June 1970 saw the start of the very last course for British troops before the School closed, although there were rumours that a final, final course would be run for students of the South Vietnam and Thai armies even later. In his office, Jason read the names of the students and saw a Lieutenant Theodore Ridings, 1/12 GR. A faint bell rung: can it be the son of the CO whose death played such a part for me in A Company in 1954 and 1955? I’ll find out when the students come.
And, yes, Theodore, Ted for short, Ridings was the son of the late Edward, Ted for short, Ridings, Jason’s one-time CO.
Jason called the young man into his office. ‘I am sure you have the potential of your late father,’ he said, seeing his son as the commander of the last long exercise. ‘You’ll be interested to learn that the Gurkha Captain in charge of the 12 GR Demonstration Company is Kulbahadur Limbu, with a DCM he won in Borneo. He was the ace tracker in the battalion, first as a rifleman then as a corporal. When you meet him, talk to him and you will learn a lot about tracking and much that is not in the jungle warfare syllabus.’
‘Oh, sir, I certainly will. Thank you for telling me. My mother sends you her regards and has asked if it possible I can have some leave at the end of the course to go to Seremban to visit my father’s grave. My mother would like me to take a photograph of it.’
‘I am sure that can be arranged,’ was the answer and the young man went off to join his student platoon.
It was the last exercise of the course, the one that lasted ten days. When Jason took over command he had told the staff that it would be known as Exercise Red Tidings. He gave no reason but somehow it pleased him. On the second phase, the company dug in at the bottom of a steep hill, Panti by name, before an uphill attack against an ‘enemy’ camp at the top, in dug-in and well prepared positions, manned by Gurkhas. Jason went to watch how Lieutenant Ridings was managing and was satisfied with what he saw.
After the attack was over and the Gurkha ‘enemy’ had disappeared to take up more positions for the company to proceed against, comments on the attack were made by the British Directing Staff and the Commandant added his few words of praise.
Then, on the spur of the moment, he decided to walk back down the hill to view the students’ overnight camp which he had yet to see. It took twenty minutes to get there and, on hearing voices, he peered round a tree and saw a dozen Chinese youths closely examining the lay-out.[1] Watching them was an older man, in his early thirties. He somehow seemed familiar.
Jason walked out and as soon as the youths saw him they ran away. The older man stayed put then, raising his right fist and with a big grin on his face, called out ‘Shandung P’aau, it’s Wang Liang, your Bear Hung Lo’s son. I remember you from when I was a schoolboy and you made me laugh by making your hands talk to each other and so many more lovely tricks one night in Kuala Lumpur.’
Jason, momentarily taken by surprise, stared at the man in disbelief and yet, and yet … ‘Wang Liang, is it really you?’
‘Yes, really me and I never thought I’d get such a good chance to let you know what I was doing.’
‘I nearly came across you when your enemies tried to kill you when the Police asked you to go and visit the Temiar to find out what was happening as they know you were the only person they would speak to. They named it Operation Blowpipe, didn’t they?’[2]
‘Yes, it just so happened that I had two weeks before taking over this job and the Police took advantage of it. It all happened so quickly. Yes, I was lucky that time, wasn’t I?’
He came over and they embraced. ‘Shandung P’aau, before he died P’ing Yee told me my father was horribly killed on the Thai border and you got your revenge, for which I thank you.’[3] So moved was I that I am now a yanshu – a mole – working against them.
The lads who ran away are new recruits for the second “Emergency” and it is my secret job to watch over them. We were warned by the secret papers that P’ing Yee gave you that time at Gunong Lang.’
Jason shook his head in surprise and wonder. So long ago!
