Jason, in turn, followed suit. The oath was now official.
The three men stood up and all shook hands. Before being allowed to join other ‘Q’ squad men, Moby said, ‘This is our secret. Keep it quiet.’
‘Yes, we will. Yes, we will,’ they echoed as someone came to lead them off.
‘Jason, that is our secret also. You will be court-martialled if that is known and I will be jailed.’
They shook hands and the police vehicle took Jason back to the bridge below the 1/12 GR camp.
19 August 1954, The funeral of Lieutenant Colonel Edward Ridings was solemn, simple and sad. The long-wheelbase Land Rover carrying the coffin was followed by a staff car in which his widow sat, stern-faced and tense, her two children beside her. The Brigade Commander followed in his vehicle, bedecked with flag and one star in front and one in the rear. Both sides of the road were lined with soldiers standing to attention, gazes fixed fiercely forward, all men vowing to ‘get our own back’ on the dishonour done to their battalion. Gurkha pallbearers unloaded the coffin and carried it to the grave and interred it. The senior army chaplain in Malaya quickly but gracefully conducted the service. People dispersed and after Mrs Ridings had been driven away to Major Gibson’s house the soldiers lining the route marched back to camp.
The Ridings family was flown back to England at government expense on 21 August, mentally shattered, Mrs Ridings only slightly comforted on learning that her late husband’s name had been ‘retained but disguised’ as the operation to be undertaken to avenge his death was Operation Red Tidings.
The most senior officer to be killed in the Emergency was a lieutenant colonel near the Jelebu pass. A brigadier died in a plane crash. ↵
Senior airmen regarded the infantry’s kill-to-contact ratio when surrounding a guerrilla camp as extremely poor. The policy of ‘Smash-Hit’ was their attempt to improve upon it. The one major success was when a notorious guerrilla was located, with Special Branch help, Lincolns of the Royal Australian Air Force and Canberras of the RAF dropped a hundred bombs which killed most of the guerrilla force. In fact it was a fluke because the guerrillas had moved before the bombing but, as the bombers fortuitously dropped their bombs on where the guerrillas had gone and not where they were briefed to, the end result was the same! Because of that, the use of ‘Smash-Hit’ became mandatory whenever an occupied camp was located. ↵
19 August 1954, Seremban: Before Moby left his house for the office he was rung up by his school friend, a Tamil named Vinod Vellu. ‘Moby, we haven’t met for years and I know its short notice but can I come and see you now as ever is?’
‘Vinod, what a surprise! Delighted but why not in my office?’
‘Better in your house, please.’
‘Okay. Know where I live, do you? Behind the police station. How long will it take to come here?’
‘I’ll be round in a jiffy as I’m at the Rest House.’
Slightly mystified, Moby sat down and thought back: Vinod Vellu, a strong, dexterous, intelligent man, full of face, with a ready smile. Born and brought up on Lavender Estate where his father was the comprador of the labour force. Married and moved to another part of the state, became a successful businessman when his wife and daughter had been raped then killed by a group of terrorists when he was away on business.
A car drew up. Vinod stepped out and briskly made for the front door which Moby opened as he reached it. They embraced warmly. ‘Come in and have a cup of tea,’ Moby invited him as he took off his shoes.
‘Yes, I’d like that,’ and Moby called out for his wife to
arrange it.
‘I’ll come to the point right away, Moby, as you’re a busy man. You know my background, I’m sure. I must get my own back. None of the Communists know my name and the gang who raped and killed my wife and daughter never knew theirs. Can you, with your various secret contacts, get me accepted by the MCP as an ardent politico whose one aim in life is to act against the colonial government?’
Moby thought for a long time before answering. ‘Tell me how you want to take your revenge.’
‘It is a long-term project I have in mind, one that might take me a couple of years or more. In outline, once I am accepted and believed in, I will try and manoeuvre a group of guerrillas to go for food collection on Lavender estate. As it is near the jungle edge I’ll lead them into a Security Force ambush and, while so doing, make my own escape.’
‘Now that really is something.’
‘It is. I will try and keep tabs with you, quite how I can’t say now or, when the time is ripe, how get the details to you. Once you know the time and place you can arrange the military ambush and I will spring my plan.’
‘I commend you. Something like this needs bags of guts and even a slight mistake can put your life in jeopardy.’
‘I know, Moby, but I’ve made my mind up. Have you any advice on survival?’
Moby leant back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes. Vinod saw he was concentrating so kept quiet.
‘Vinod, I know someone here in Seremban who intimately knows another someone doing what you want to do. Let me get his advice …’
Vinod shook his head and was on the point of disagreeing but Moby continued, ‘… theoretically only mind you, on how his friend has managed to keep safe for many years.’
The Tamil hesitated then, rather reluctantly Moby thought, agreed. ‘Yes, I’ll go along with that.’
Moby looked at his watch. ‘Vinod, how long can you spare? I have to go to the cemetery for a funeral at half past nine. I can’t not. There I will meet the man who can give you your answer. I won’t be back till lunchtime as I have a deadline to meet in my office. Can you have lunch with me? By then I promise you’ll have a full answer.’
‘If that’s my only option, of course, thank you,’ Vinod answered with a smile.
After the funeral Moby beckoned to Jason and took him to one side. ‘I need your advice. I have a man who wants to be a mole in the MCP coming to lunch today. He has asked me for advice on survival. I thought of Ah Fat and you knowing how he has managed to carry on successfully.’
Jason looked serious and nodded. ‘Give me time to give you an answer.’
‘Can you join us at lunch today as ever is?’
‘No but I’ll drop in at a quarter to two, if that is convenient?’
Convenient it was and Jason, after being introduced to Vinod, said, ‘basically he is still alive because he has a firm base, an alternative and a reserve. By that I mean living the part he’s acting, having a cover plan to answer any suspicions and a get-away-cum-hidey-hole plan for emergencies – and tying a cloth under his chin and over his head at nights to stop him from sleep talking. Survival is an infinite capacity for suspicion and never taking anything for granted.’
Vinod took all that in. ‘Anything else for me?’
‘Yes, three points of jungle lore: if you find yourself adrift and lost if you have no compass, follow streams as they will lead to habitations; if you are hungry and want to eat a fruit, beware if it red, as red often means it’s poisonous. To make sure, take off a bit of peel and rub the fruit on the inside of you lip and if it burns that means it is poisonous; and if you’re chased by an elephant, try and run downhill. If you’ve got all that I must leave you and get my company ready for an operation.’
He stood up and shook Vinod’s hand. ‘I wish you the best of luck’ and went back to his company
By themselves, Moby said ‘All good advice indeed. And as for you I will back you up to the hilt and until fruition, apart from Captain Rance, only you and I will know about it at this level but of course ambush planners will have to know in good time and then only in outline, on the “need to know” principle. You will have to have a code name which my boss in Kuala Lumpur must give so it doesn’t clash with any other.’
