Some books inspire pride. Others confront us with truths we would rather avoid.Retired army major D Swami’s memoir, Exigent Circumstances – A Soldier’s Journey Down the Road Less Travelled, belongs to the latter. It unsettles, provokes, and refuses to let readers look away.

Few memoirs by service veterans cut this deep. Swami does not just recount campaigns; he exposes the lived reality of soldiering. His story is one of demands, disillusionment, and unshakable duty across three decades in uniform.

From counter-insurgency in Malaysia’s jungles to the chaos of Somalia, he fought not only enemies in the field but also the subtler battles of identity and belonging within the army itself. This is no exercise in nostalgia. It is raw, unflinching, and deeply human. Yet through it all, Swami never stopped believing in service.

Born in 1954, he joined the army at 18, a spirited recruit from a big family in Nova Scotia Estate in Teluk Anson (now Teluk Intan), Perak. Commissioned later into a Ranger battalion, he helped convert it from a standard company into a mechanised infantry, preparing it for Somalia.

He endured the brutality of boot camp, battled communist insurgents in the jungle, and faced the grim unpredictability of peacekeeping. What sets the book apart is not the number of firefights survived, but how he lays bare the quieter war within — against bias, bureaucracy, and unspoken rules in uniform.

The quiet war within

Swami writes candidly about being a non-Malay soldier. Promotions and postings often depended on identity rather than merit. Slurs were common. He recalls how “Hindu” was hurled as if it were a curse. He does not wallow in bitterness, but neither does he excuse it.

His story forces larger questions: how much talent has Malaysia lost because prejudice outweighed ability? What happens when loyalty to country is judged through race or creed? These are not just military questions. They echo across politics, the economy, and daily life.

Amid this broken system, Swami still found brotherhood. On patrols and in foxholes, divisions dissolved. Soldiers shared rations, carried each other through the jungle, and trusted one another with their lives.

Those who served with him called him “the Legend.” Not for gaming the system, but for putting himself at risk for his men. They remember him not for his rank, but for his willingness to take bullets if it meant buying them a few more seconds.

This is the kind of brotherhood armies should forge — and the kind Malaysia still struggles to extend beyond uniforms. In this sense, the memoir is more than one man’s account. It is a lesson in leadership: loyalty is earned, not commanded.

Retired major-general Toh Choon Siang notes in the foreword that it should be essential reading for young officers, teaching courage not only in battle but in moral choices.

When compassion turns deadly

The most searing chapters come from Somalia in 1993. Swami describes famine, anarchy, and children chasing scraps of food. One episode haunts him: a soldier tossed a food pack to starving children, only to watch a fight break out. A weaker child was stabbed to death over a single packet.

It is a brutal reminder that even kindness, without thought for consequences, can turn fatal. The lesson stretches far beyond the battlefield: well-meaning policies, if careless or politicised, can worsen the very problems they aim to solve.

Brutal honesty, human flaws

This is not a self-glorifying tale. Swami admits mistakes, recklessness, even self-destructive choices. He refused to play the “racial game” that might have eased his career.

In Somalia, he recalls his platoon commander relaying chilling orders: not to return fire because the attackers were “our brothers.” Swami saw this as proof of the “our people” mentality creeping into the forces — a mindset that, he argues, weakened security. That it came from a convert made it even more disheartening.

Some may see his defiance as stubbornness. Others may call it integrity. Either way, his honesty gives the book its weight. It is not propaganda, but one man’s truth, and by extension, a truth about Malaysia.

Lessons for Malaysia

Swami’s story forces reflection. When identity trumps merit, institutions weaken. When sacrifices go unrecognised, the meaning of service itself is diminished.

Real patriotism is not loud slogans or parades. It is quiet endurance, often unthanked: the willingness to protect strangers who may never know your name. It is found in soldiers sharing rations in the jungle, in officers shielding their men, in veterans who still love their country even when the system failed them.

In an age when Malaysia still wrestles with race and belonging, Swami’s memoir asks if we can finally value service equally. The real test: can we honour sacrifice without first asking who made it?

The book ends with Swami in retirement after Somalia. His body is worn but his spirit undimmed. His reward is not medals or promotions, but the love of family and the respect of comrades.

The system may not have given him his due. But he gave more than it ever gave back. In that, he found meaning larger than himself.

Why this story matters

Exigent Circumstances is more than a war memoir. It is both warning and reminder — of how prejudice corrodes institutions, and how bonds of trust and sacrifice keep hope alive.

This is not just Swami’s story. It is Malaysia’s story from the ground up. And it is one we cannot afford to ignore. Because service is not about what the country gives you. It is about what you choose to give, even when the country looks away.

A nation that cannot value all who serve, equally and without question, is a nation still at war with itself.

To purchase Exigent Circumstances – A Soldier’s Journey Down the Road Less Traveled, contact D Swami at 012-408 4300 (Please text via WhatsApp), and introduce yourself, please do not call, too many spam calls)