My dear late brother, in 1964 , 205375 Trooper Purshotma Dass of C Squadron 2nd Reconnaissance Regiment who answered the call when his relations were trying to "Ganyang" Malaysia - The Indonesian Confrontation

Lim Kit Siang

I’ve previously blogged about the winners of valour awards, not including those who had laid down their lives, are maimed, and not forgetting the non-Malay police officers.

I guess when the Chinese and Indians were bleeding and dying for this country, Zahid might just have been a dirty glint in his father’s eyes. I am not insulting this dull fellow, just that this shallow-minded individual needs some input regarding who was the first Malaysian to be awarded the Pingat Gagah Berani. He was a Chinese! Sergeant Chong Yong Chin PGB of the First Federation Regiment.

Your heroes in a picture, whose?

Dey Zahid, I suppose you did not know that. Insults have to be politely reciprocated with civility, I am doing just that.

Did you not know who was the first recipient of the Pingat Gagah Berani in the Congo? That person too was a Chinese, Lieutenant Lee Ah Pow PGB, read about how shoddily he was treated too! It had to take Brigadier R.S. Noronha of the Indian army (during a UN peacekeeping mission in Congo) to recommend him for an award. Lt Lee had shown exemplary courage and tremendous restraint under fire, yet his own Malaysian high command overlooked his valour.

There was another young Chinese officer, Lt David Fu Chee Meng, who too was awarded the PGB at the Battle of Tanah Hitam.

So those guys were not patriotic enough for you? Here is my favourite, someone I know personally, Sergeant Choo Woh Soon PGB, my wife’s uncle. The short guy in the centre of the photo is Sergeant Choo Woh Soon PGB. This guy, patriotic enough for you. My wife's uncle.

This is my father in law Corporal Choo Woh Hup, the elder brother of Sergeant Choo Woh Soon PGB

How about this Indian officer and Chinese soldier dying together to save your sorry butt from the commies? Captain Shanmuganathan PGB and 207770 Ranger Mat Isa bin Hassan PGB, do not be deceived by the name Mat Isa, he was a Chinese.

How about this Indian officer who laid down his life at the ripe old age of 24? Captain Mohana Chandran al Velayuthan (200402) Seri Pahlawan Gagah Perkasa. Not patriotic enough for you? Here is another Indian who got the PGB, Second Lieutenant Panir Chellvum a/l Velaithan PGB. Still not patriotic enough for you?

M’sian soldiers burn cross

How about this where a sorry excuse for an officer caused the death of 13 Italian airmen in the Congo. The Malay Major had shirked his responsibilities of providing the airmen with protection, placed them in danger by ordering them to be brought to the mess and allowed them to be captured by the rebels. The Major then further disgraced himself by ordering all the officers and men at the mess to surrender their weapons to the rebels who had surrounded them, which they did sheepishly.

Malaysia’s name had to be salvaged in this incident by Second Lieutenants N.H. Siebel PGB and Captain Maurice Lam PGB, notice their names, they were non-Malays.

How about the time in Bosnia where soldiers desecrated a Catholic Cross? Again the situation was salvaged by the non-Malays. For posterity I have another link here about how the then Defence Minister Najib Razak excused the burning of Croation Catholic cross by two Malaysian UN peacekeepers stationed in Bosnia-Herzegovina as “unintentional”.

I will not even talk about the vandalising of the Hoba meteorite in Namibia.

Here is another Indian, who after serving a total of 29 years in both the police force and the army is denied his pension. The reason being he did not attend the weapons course and tactics course. What weapons and tactics course, when he and his men wiped out the remnants of the enemy in Selangor. What would his unshaved instructors teach him? Read about him, Captain Courageous aka Mukhtiar Singh s/o Sodagar Singh.

In any other army in the world today, they would have cited Mukhtiar Singh for courage and piled honours on him without any questions asked. Unfortunately he is an Indian in Malaysia, get that Zahid?

Here is a picture of an all Chinese group of Kinta Valley Homeguards who fought the Malayan Communist Party. More pics here...

The problem with people like Ahmad Zahid Hamidi is he does not know about people like these Chinese and Indians who were willing to die for Malaysia unconditionally. They only wanted to be treated fairly. The current situation is like “some people are more equal than others”.

East M’sians discriminated against

People like Zahid are wind bags, full of foul air and all empty talk.

If you notice the minorities were significant in numbers in the forces when Malaysia was in danger, from the Japanese occupation of Malaya, the Emergency, Confrontation and the subsequent Emergency until the cessation of hostilities by the Malayan Communist Party.

Remember the Communist Party of Malaya did not surrender. It was a treaty for the cessation of hostilities. Freeing our Great Leader to push his agenda of Ketuanan Melayu, subsequently his achievements were … I shall just cite one, i.e. the amazing statement that Anwar Ibrahim socked himself in the left eye to gain public sympathy and give the police a bad name.

They happily reneged on this treaty as they have NO honor among thieves

Mahathir could not do many of the things he has done if the Malayan Communist Party was on the warpath as it would increase their numbers. Zahid, being an ardent fan of this old goat, is still playing to the gallery.

Soldiers who have served, the non-Malays, know what it is to be discriminated against because of their race and religion. Even the Bumiputras of Sabah and Sarawak are discriminated against, as most of them are Christians.

While at this, being an ex-soldier and all, I have seen many East Malaysian officers serving in combat units. Why did not any one of them make it to General? Not good enough?

Look at how brave, loyal and patriotic they are. See in the archives for the records I’ve compiled. After seeing the results of the Sibu ‘buy elections’, where the BN lost, I guess they saw the writing on the wall and recently promoted an Iban officer to become the first Iban who made it to General, Stephen Mundaw, in September this year.

Anyway that is peanuts, East Malaysians should demand and expect at least a 4-star General from amongst the Ibans, whose bodies have been littered across the battle fields in Malaysia. Their courage and ferocity in battle is unmatched.

Lack of promotion prospects

After having served many years and plodding along, being bypassed by juniors and incompetents, there are so many grievances. There is not enough space to write it all at one go. Is it not heart wrenching? You expect patriotism to burn brightly in the hearts of the non-Malays when our children are discriminated by virtue of race and religion?

Treat everyone equally on a level playing field and you will not need to ask for the non-Malays to defend this country. The numbers would be so huge that you would have to send most of them back.

In the military, the non-Malay is ridden like a horse, for the greater benefit of the majority. No rewards, when it comes to promotions and benefits … they forget you. You know about the old race horse, that it runs until it drops dead or is put out to pasture. Most non-Malays make it to the rank of Major, I am sure you have heard this before, about the infamous glass ceiling. That is the rank you have to be happy with.

You are not promoted on merit. I know of guys who can barely speak English but become Generals. During my time all the courses were in English. Ask the ex and serving non-Malays about the subtle hints to convert. They do not even respect your faith by suggesting that. If they’re always hinting to you that you should convert, it means they look down on you.

Religious and racial discrimination go hand in hand.

I have also had the privilege of seeing a General’s knees tremble, when he stepped out of my Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV) as I helped him down. This was after an exchange of fire. I was the escort commander and he was riding in my IFV in Somalia.

A hundred non-Malays would, without hesitation and asking questions, charge a hill of 10,000 enemies to defend their country, Malaysia, if you treated them and their offspring as Malaysians and not as dhimmis and second-class citizens.

I could continue shellacking Ahmad Zahid until the cows come home but it is us who are to be blamed. He is the MP for Bagan Datuk, Perak. Those of us who continue supporting MCA and the MIC, are actually getting him elected year in, year out. Your votes have made him arrogant. If you notice his majority is actually shrinking. So the strongest message for the Defence Minister would be to boot this racist Umno supremacist out of Parliament in the next general elections.

Never forget.

For Illustrative Purposes Only Similar To Ranger Lim See Meng

When we did the infamous Gonzales Lasak from Kampong Bonggor in Gerik to Batu Melintang in Kelantan which was 122 Km by road. The distance on the map was as the crow flies is 80 clicks. The Infantry is all terrain; we had to cross country, except at the lake in Banding we used the bridge. We were supposed to start the walk at 0800 hours to be released by a General.

That fuckwit arrived at 1100 hours by helicopter. By the time he had his tea and the normal bovine manure, it was precisely 1200 hours that the walk started. All the soldiers and support elements were carrying eight days of combat rations,1st line ammo and two hand grenades, all the Rangers had to carry a 60 mm mortar round.

Just barely 20 minutes into the walk, I was informed that a soldier had collapsed! Shit and double shit, I swore we had barely started. Since I was made responsible for stragglers and others, I went with my batman and one of my UCIS boys who was with a first aid bag. Apparently, the heat got to him, thanks to the fuckwit of a General, who had the luxury of not adhering to punctuality just because he was a General.

These idiots do not love their soldiers. If you want to lead soldiers, you must first love them. Most Officers do not get that simple rule. Especially fuckwit Generals who are so full of themselves, with sycophants fawning over them, with the exception of a few. Anyway, I pulled that soldier aside who was from the Engineers, told him to rest.

Suddenly an Engineer’s Corporal came up to me, I recognized him we were in the same Troop, a Corporal Jaafar. I told the good Corporal not to wait up and join his boys. The Sapper who collapsed I said we would accompany him until he has recovered fully. I just chatted with the Corporal, the Sapper recovered; Jaafar thanked me and gave me a smart salute, as he was very happy for me that I had become an Officer.

I returned a very smart salute to him. I was made to be the sweeper along with my UCIS boys, coming at the rear of battalion column. I reined in 2nd Lt Ivan Lee Synn Leng to keep me company, as it was very lonely at the rear of a 500 men column. I also picked him for the fact that he led the Battalion Speed March team to be champions in the 8th Brigade Speed March competition. Lt Col GE Simon was still commanding.

I assigned two of my toughest and fittest boys from the UCIS, Ranger Nagarajah and Ranger Shamsuddin to assist my CO who was fifty plus years old years old, born in 1934. I guess after the Raub incident he had  full confidence in me. A soldier who joins the Army at 18 years of age pensions off at the age of 39. He had to keep up with soldiers much younger than him, it is tough on him. Nowadays CO's who are barely 40 years old can hardly move, as some of them are built like main battle tanks.

Once or twice during the walk when I came to the end of my tether I struck them with my rifle butt on their packs as they just refused to walk. There was one Officer who had a brain wave, he told us in the Officers Mess that he was going to carry a big tin of Quaker Oats. Along with his batman who was an Orang Asli. I told him, “Man, do not do that. You will get sick of the oats.”

I saw him late in the afternoon at a stream with others; his batman was nowhere to be seen. He asked me, “Swami, do you have any food to spare?” Ivan was there, “Whatever happened to your Quaker Oats?” We all burst out laughing at him. His response was “come on guys, have a heart”. I told him to shut up and sit down, I told him of course we would share with you, told my batman to cook extra food.

On an operation in Gua Musang this same officer had to be evacuated, as there was leech attached to the white of his eye! He slept like a log, realized that only when he woke up. . I recall one Infantry unit that was walking that route after us. A soldier after listening to all the horror stories, decided to take matters into his own hands. He shot himself in the leg to avoid that walk.

He miscalculated; the round came out through his hip. I met him when I was a duty officer at the USM Hospital, Kubang Kerian. There was a huge gaping hollow in his hip, apparently the round took off part of his hip too, it was the exit of the round. I saw my former batman Lim See Meng, he was limping, I asked him what was wrong with his leg. He sat beside the road and removed his boots.

The heels of his right foot had a huge surface removed. I myself felt the pain when I saw that. The image above explains the condition of my soldier, Ranger Lim See Meng. Why should I not get angry with those who were responsible for this? Yep, Generals get a free pass.

Not to worry many curses too! We broke the army record It took us 7 days 7 hours, where we broke the Army record, 2nd Lt Wong Heng Ging was map reading for us at the head of the column, he was bloody efficient, this time he did NOT carry any stouts. 122 Km - Distance from Gerik to Batu Melintang.

Major General Toh Choon Siang

Here is Major General Toh Choon Siang and Lieutenant General Stephen Mundaw. It's NOT about MERITOCRACY it's about service and placing your life on the line for this country, which is ours too.

Lieutenant General Stephen Mundaw

Army Chief, Gen Mohammad Ab Rahman, said the campaign aims to provide information to non-Bumiputeras and the younger generation on career opportunities in the army, which is one of the branches of the armed forces.

“They were also informed that individuals who joined the army could pursue higher education to advance their careers within the force,” he said. Mohammad said this when asked to comment on the army’s effort to attract non-bumiputra recruits before the Aidiladha sacrificial ceremony at Kem Perdana Sungai Besi in Kuala Lumpur today.

Non Muslims do NOT be conned. You will NOT be appreciated and you will be ridden like a horse. Even the Bumis of Sarawak. Do NOT become canon fodder. I have done my bit for 26 years in an Infantry Unit, the Rangers during the Insurgency. Study and get qualified so that you can make big bucks in the private sector. Or overseas. I am talking through experience. I am now 70 years old.

Once bitten twice shy. I do not trust them at all. Look at all the Generals in the image, they are out of shape. You do NOT want to risk your life under their command. Our equipment too sucks. Remember the Sulu invasion of Sabah. It would have only taken 5th Brigade by itself to handle the situation. Sadly that did not happen. Pen pushers and boot lickers were involved, incompetents. They had to source the ammunition from West Malaysia during the Sulu Invasion. How is that for "Foresight", one of the principles of administration? See the incompetency.

Unqualified people are promoted over experienced and seasoned infantry officers and men. They leave frustrated and bitter. I would not lift my hands, not again!!! How can you serve a country that does it's best to tell you, that it does not love you and your children. This country does NOT allow you to love her. I joined the army in 1972 as a lowly recruit. I was fortunate that I was sent for Cadet Officer's training in 1980.

Got commissioned and joined a blooded Ranger Battalion. After a few years posted out to a Training Establishment as an instructor. 3 years there back to my old unit after that. The in between I will not dwell on, it's about promotions. I had already passed my Captain to Major promotion exam around 8 years ago then. I was in the unit for several years, I helped in the conversion of the Battalion from a standard Infantry Battalion to a Mechanized Infantry Battalion to prepare for Somalia.

There were vacancies for Major. Some convert who did it for the love of pussy with no experience comes and takes over the appointment to become a Major. In Somalia I did well, as I had prepared my soldiers well in two companies. My OC a Dayak, Major Christopher Joseph, told me, "Once we go back you will be taking over from me".

In a place called Merca whilst my Commanding Officer was distributing food to the Somalis, it became a stampede and the militia guys were pointing their weapons at my CO, I received that news via my walkie talkie I quickly dismounted and gestured to Captain Ivan Lee who was operating my rear General Purpose Machine Gun who gave me a thumbs up. I sprinted to my CO's location and went in between the pointed guns and my CO, I pointed the M79 and my M4A1 at the 5 gunman.

There were other soldiers of course it was a confined space amongst the crowd of civilians. It could easily turn into blood bath, my CO was not wearing his protective vest. I was, therefore I shielded him with my body. I looked back at my 6 Infantry Fighting vehicles which were around a 100 meters away. My boys had their rifles and machines guns trained on the Militia.

Captain Ivan Lee again gave me a thumbs up. I told the militia leader to lower his weapons, while pointing my M79 at his abdomen. I guess he knew what a 40 mm grenade would do to him. The way it looked was, I was determined to take him down even if I became a casualty. They backed off. Many more incidents I will not relate to you.

Then when I was ordered to lead the patrols to keep the Lines of communication open after the Americans with drew. I give my patrol orders around 1900 hrs, long before my patrol time which will be at 0100 hrs to one of my 3 platoon commanders who was fresh out of royal Military College. When he first reported he said he did not have any experience. I told him it is OJT (on the job training).

At 0100 hrs, I was walking towards where the Infantry Fighting Vehicles were parked. My platoon commander said, "Sir, the operations officer told me not to follow your orders and NOT to return fire if fired upon the patrol, that they are all our "saudara" (relations by virtue of them being Muslims). The Ops Officer was a Chinaman convert for the love of pussy. A typical Reduan Tee.

I asked him if he wants to obey my orders as his patrol commander or that dick of an ops officer. He told me, he would obey my orders. After all I am his 2IC. Came back from patrol and assembled the whole company and told them what the Ops Officer did. My OC, a Dayak was there too. I told the whole company if ever the Ops Officer follows you all on patrol and there is a firefight, shoot him first, in front of my OC. My OC,  Major Christopher Joseph, said  "I second that". That evening my CO asked me if that was true. I related the incident and told him that it was true and whether he had a problem with that. He just shook his head. The Ops Officer was removed from that appointment.

There is always "Swami, why don't you embrace Islam, you do not know what you are missing".  I actually yearn to say, "Fcuk you, sir". They insult you by saying that, they do NOT even respect your faith. My 2IC who was an arsehole from Sarawak frequently brought it up. He virtually worshiped Mahathirudan, saying that no one can be compared to him!!  So you know the kinds of mentality you had to deal with. I am glad I am NOT subservient to their supremacist attitudes.

Well, finally we are back in Malaysia. Guess what? They were promoting another, who converted for the love of pussy, he was my fucking junior. I was very angry and disappointed. I went to my Sergeant Suntai Tinggi's  quarters, whom I had known for many years. Hey sir, this tapai (native wine) is strong he told me. I drank a lot.

Most of the Officers are posted to 7th Rangers to enable them to go to Staff College, as Mentakab is only a two hour drive from Kuala Lumpur, they do not have to shift. They enjoy the perks of getting promoted and going to Staff College at the expense of the serving officers in 7th Rangers, enabled by some fucking senior officer whose balls they were licking. Also still get to screw their wives who are left in KL during the weekends. Whilst in Somalia they get to do all the safe jobs and get extra allowances for just being there. Ain't that cushy?

Walked to the Battalion Headquarters with a confident gait, inebriated. The Adjutant Captain Ivan Lee was there, I told him I wanted to see the CO. He told me that I could not see him in the condition I was in. I told him step aside Chinaman, I want to see him. I pushed him aside and went in of course I knocked the door. Saluted my CO and said, " Sir, how soon you forget. Tuan, ingat tak, saya lindung tuan dengan badan saya (Sir, do you not remember me protecting you with my body)". Why is my junior getting promoted over me again. Tuan, kena ke saya potong lanchiao untuk naik pangkat dalam battalion ini? (Do I need to convert to rise in the ranks? I actually said slice my dick)

To which he said he was instructed by Mindef and some other bullshit. I told him in no uncertain terms that I wanted a posting out of the battalion. You are an ungrateful person, I would die fighting rather than convert, I know all about your faith. That evening he came to my quarters with his wife to talk to me. I told him that I did not want to talk to him. Instead my wife spoke to them giving them a piece of her mind.

Two weeks later I became a Major. When two guys were shot dead on patrol in Somalia, a Muslim and a Christian the attention differed. The Muslims had their own clergy. The OC Major Len Olivero, managed to get the Chaplain from the American Contractor Brown and Root. When you die in combat in the Malaysian Army there will not be anyone to attend to your spiritual needs.

Then there is the saying of the grace (doa selamat), where everyone is forced to raise their hands. They say this, "صِرَٰطَ ٱلَّذِينَ أَنْعَمْتَ عَلَيْهِمْ غَيْرِ ٱلْمَغْضُوبِ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلَا ٱلضَّآلِّينَ ٧ (the Path of those You have blessed—not those You are displeased with, or those who are astray). Which means Christians and the Jews have earned the anger and are led astray, but the anger is one of the attributes more particular of the Jews. So do you guys want to still lift your hands to curse yourselves?

They also did away with serving duty free beers in messes, the culprit was Sheikh Madani when he was the Finance Minister. The Ranger Units have become more like Royal Malay units, most of the CO's are Malays. They even try and stifle your faith.  That was the main cause I left the service. By giving instructions that praying in Military camps, "akan menjejaskan kredibiliti anggota angota yang beragama Islam". Still have that directives in black and white.

Brigadier General Arshad Raji (Retired) : I recently received an email from a retired army officer (that's me) who had served in a unit of a formation of which I was its commander. We had somehow lost touch of each other for more than 10 years, and it was a wonderful feeling to be in touch once again with an old acquaintance. He reminded me of some of his experiences with me, which I could easily recall. I can also recall having to instruct him to lay a demonstration for the visiting Colonel -in-Chief, HRH the late Raja of Perlis, of a pair of snipers in action, as well as an assault in a build up area. These are some of the activities that I miss, and I suppose most of the officers and soldiers of the unit that had come under my charge, have all left the army too.

The officer, who opted for an early retirement was frank and forthright in explaining to me the reasons for quitting the army early. He joined the army out of sheer love for the military service, and being a non-bumiputra, he was commissioned into a Ranger battalion. I recall, the battalion had a high percentage of soldiers from Sarawak and Sabah, and one particular company of that battalion served with me in Cambodia under its able commander Major Christopher Joseph.

Now getting back to the retired army officer, he claimed that being a Christian himself, he was deprived of his religious obligations to conduct catechism classes with other Sarawakian and Sabahan Christian soldiers and their families in the camp. He reasoned out that the church was some distance away from the camp, and that the soldiers were not able to take their families to church regularly, because they do not have their own transport; besides them being out on training and operations most of the time.

He thought that the most convenient way for his Christian soldiers and their families to get together for catechism classes, was to have it in their private homes in the camp. The officer cited that the instruction to disallow catechism to be conducted in camp was from the Division Commander, of which a copy of the instruction is still in his possession. The above aptly described the grievance of a Malaysian Christian officer, residing in a predominantly Muslim community, who felt that he was being deprived of one of his religious obligation.

I am not fully aware of any documented instructions from army headquarters, forbidding officers and soldiers of the Christian faith from conducting catechism classes in their private homes in the camp. If there was one, it has to be properly explained, and an alternative offered to them. I believe, the Division Commander had issued the instruction based on his own interpretation, without reference to any standing instructions. I personally think that it was wrongful for the Divisional Commander to issue the 'forbidding instruction' unilaterally.

Representative Image

At this time when I was well stocked with beers, my eldest brother from the Recce Regiment choose to drop by to visit his “little” brother. He knew where we were encamped after all there were only 5 of us, Engineers. He came with his long strides and grabbed me, enveloping me with his body, I was the shortest male in my family.

The rest of the soldiers were staring at us. We asked each other how we were. He was asking me news about the family. The was no telephone those days in my house. Only “slow mail” kept the news flowing. Of course introduced him to my mates, one of them quickly fried 4 eggs, opening two cans of beer, His reaction was “wow, you guys are living it up”. We looked at each other with unspoken thoughts, me praying that he would be safe. The time passed quickly, maybe an hour or more. 

River Jalong (supplying water to the Brigade Tac)

One of his mates came down to call him as his convoy was about to move back to Ipoh and he was part of the escort. Told him to bottoms up and gave him another can of beer which I told him to do likewise. He did, I walked him to the Ferret Scout Car, he hugged me saying the good byes with unspoken words. He climbed abroad his scout car and took his place in the driver’s seat. I could see his face. The convoy slowly moved out, I waved to him until he was out of sight.

One day there was an announcement saying that 7 Communist terrorists were shot dead in a skirmish. On another day we heard, a tracker dog was shot dead in another firefight resulting in another 5 Communists shot dead.

Another classic was an ambush party from the 7th Rangers, the ambush party was taking a break after 3 days in an ambush position, leaving behind a young soldier to sentry the ambush position and also to take care of the claymore mines left behind.

Claymore mines are like small transistor radios on stilts, they have 700 ball bearings on the front, backed by C-4 plastic explosives. They are normally laid in a series of six. They can be triggered by a switch, or for instance by a trip wire or a M-57 firing device. The direction to be placed is clear, raised bold letters in green say “FRONT TOWARDS ENEMY”.

When it is triggered, 700 ball bearings fly out, in this case, there were 4,200 bearings. Five armed communists, decided to have an orders group right in front of these claymores, the young sentry fired the M-57 (firing device) resulting in 5 dead enemies. Classic, meaning a classic case of a fluke. Great luck for the ambush party who were jubilant and elated over their fluke success. The end justifies the means.

One evening there was a buzz in the camp, that a dead Communist was carried by an infantry patrol into the Tactical Hq, my friends told me that they had seen the body. I had never seen a dead Communist terrorist, curiosity overcame me. I put on my webbing and took hold of my rifle and made my way to the HQ, the rest of the curious were there, not many though, it was actually morbid curiosity. There beside the dead body, leaning against a canvas screen was a Czechoslovakian .22 semi-automatic rifle along with a few hundred rounds, a cylindrical object which looked like an improvised hand grenade.

An aluminum container with a dried up and very hard tapioca, that’s all he had for food. The dead commie was identified as a seventeen-year-old by army intelligence. His arm was shattered above his elbow barely attached, hanging on to the rest of the body by slivers of flesh, where two rounds from the Heckler & Koch 33 rifle penetrated. He looked starved, which I believe he was, because of the relentless pressure by fighting patrols on our part to deny them rest or food.

I spoke to the patrol commander who downed this guy, he told me the following: They had received information from a native aborigine that a group of Communists had visited the village earlier and cleared out all food. This aboriginal settlement was on the fringes of the rubber plantation on the edge of a primary jungle.

The patrol saw this young Communist probably a straggler from the main group. It challenged him, from about 15 meters away, he swung his rifle around bringing it to bear towards them, the lead scout let loose a burst of fire hitting him above the elbows.

The enemy fell on the ground, the patrol commander was upon him in a rush as he was groping for a hand grenade with his good arm, the patrol commander placed a neat round through his throat and another into his belly, killing him instantly, those were the gunshot wounds I was curious about. It was a gaping big hole and the exposed viscera.

It was a mistake for me to come and take a look, at the body, I felt funny, I knew I had to get away, I mumbled something unintelligible and quickly made my way to my tent. The truth was I was feeling nauseated, felt like throwing up or passing out on seeing the body. I made it and lay myself on the bed, I did not say anything to my companions. I was afraid of passing out in front of my mates.

I did not tell anyone about this incident as I would not have lived it down. Later on I did not go the way I did the first time, still I could never get used to the blood and gore, as it always troubled me thinking about life and death, I could be as cold blooded as the next guy, but it must be me doing it, then I would not feel squeamish at the end result.

Chong Chor of Tronoh in Bahasa

We were briefed on actions to be taken in the event of an ambush. The route to Cameron Highlands was long winding and a narrow road. Excellent spots for executing ambushes. We had to take the road from Tapah. Those areas are the Highlands exceeding 5,000 feet. It is cold, clammy and wet most of the time.

With sand flies thrown in for added misery, not forgetting the leeches. I hate leeches. The trip took 5 hours as the speed was slow in the convoy. We reached Slim Camp where the Commandos were stationed. This camp was named after the famous WW2 British Field Marshall Slim.

We had dinner after which we were briefed. All patrols were allotted a sector to operate in to “search and locate” the enemy. The strength of each patrol was 5. All of us were trained as combat medics, signalers, in demolitions and conducting a fighting withdrawal. As 5 in a patrol are no threat to the enemy. The 2IC of my patrol was Sergeant Wellington from 1st Rangers. He was a Dayak from Sarawak.

We were given Grid References to our drop of point. The patrol was the same lot I had trained with in Special Warfare Training Center. They were a good lot. Only two of us were from the Rangers and the other 3 were from the Royal Malay Regiment. The Enemy was the 6th Assault Unit set up by a notorious enemy commander, Chong Chor.

He was from the WW2 era. A tough and determined insurgent Leader. He was also responsible for setting up the 5th Assault Unit in Perak. Everyone was looking for him but to no avail. Thousands of man hours were spent looking for him in the jungles. A break came when the Communists confronted a group of picnickers, who were Army Officers along the Karak highway, on a private estate.

The Army Officers (one of the Army Officers was from 7th Rangers), their wives were stunned, their children did not know anything. For them it looked like the end of life moment. The Communists were armed, they were not! Like in the Army you have dumb idiots even amongst Communist Insurgents. The Communists did not notice the military poncho used as sheet on the ground.

Fortunately, the Army Officers brains were working overtime. They passed themselves off as teachers. They talked for a while trying to be cool and nonchalant. Eventually the Communists moved away, giving an opportunity for one of the officers to hightail it to the Ministry of Defense.

They reported and immediately the Special Forces were dispatched to do a follow up. Nothing came of it. All was forgotten, our Police somehow or rather got wind that there were Communist sympathizers around the Batu Caves. So the sympathizer’s house was watched 24/7.

Surrendered Enemy Personnel (SEP’s) were used. Soon Chong Chor was identified. He was tracked to Jalan Tengku Abdul Rahman in Kuala Lumpur, in an eatery. The Police made it look like a robbery gone wrong and he was captured and whisked away.

The red force was 8 Brigade. The Royal Malay and the New Zealanders were to advance by vehicles on road to Gua Musang by road from Kuala Lipis. Whereas Seventh Rangers were to advance on foot cross-country. The road distance is 95.3 kilometers whereas cross-country is 117 kilometers. This was an exercise under the 4th Division.

We had many bounds to cross which was to monitor the progress of an advance. We were advancing to contact (to get into grips with the enemy). We were tasked to bypass all red force areas at the earlier stages We were carrying combat rations and in full battle order. From Kuala Lipis to Gua Musang we had to trudge through young oil palm plantations, cross numerous streams and rivers.

The heat in the young oil palm plantations was very intense as they were still very short and did not provide cover from the sun as we were worn down by thirst. I was having problem with my knees and suffered pain of inner thigh chafing (bruising) by friction. The pain too was intense.

Which never happened to me before, whilst walking long distances. Meanwhile at Division Headquarters they were betting that Seventh Rangers would take a week to arrive at Gua Musang. Major Muhammad Sultan bin Ismail, who was previously an OC of D Company, Seventh Rangers said that it would only take 4 days.

There was a hill overlooking the Kuala Lipis - Gua Musang road. It was given a name “Ramona”. We were heading towards it to occupy and dominate it. As we were moving I was in front of the Battalion column with the Battalion Headquarters. In front of us were two other rifle companies.

I saw a land rover with Military Police from 8 Brigade, they were in a rubber plantation I was thinking hey, they are screwed. The Military Police realized we were the enemy and fled, had we been a bit quicker we could have a captured land rover in our possession. We gave chase and opened fire at them with blanks.

I guess the Military Police did not report to the higher ups, so no one knew our presence. A convoy, of trucks were passing by from 8 Brigade, they were sending freshly cooked food to their forward troops. We captured the convoy of two trucks. Took their food and the men as prisoners. Our boys ate the food.

They were protesting that it was for their boys in front. Told them to stop protesting, we were the enemy. At night another disaster happened to them. The enemy Brigade Commander was a Chinese convert, apparently thinking he was Rommel, drove past a fighting section (10 men) commanded by Corporal Jack Minan.

He hurled a thunder flash at the staff car in which the General was. The General stopped the car, got out and was very furious, “Do you not know whom I am? I am the 8th Brigade Commander”. Corporal Jack Minan replied, “General or not general, do you want to be captured or killed sir?”

Seriously due respect was given, even if the General was bloody stupid getting shot at by a mere Corporal and his men. The General was in an apoplectic fit. The red force was thinking we were still very far away. We were moving towards Gua Musang. We hardly slept during the 3 days and nights. That is why we managed to break everyone’s perception that we could not do it that fast.

They underestimated us. Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups. Even the New Zealanders could not believe we were that fast. The reason was there were so many streams and rivers with quite high hills. We had an advantage, the UCIS Platoon was leading. Not under me but under another younger Commander, who too qualified from the Special Warfare Training Center.

The GOC, the Commander of the 4th Division under whom were 4th Brigade and 8th Brigade, operated was flabbergasted as his exercise plan was in a disarray, it did not go according to the script.

I managed to complete this route this time with my swollen knees and my chaffed thighs, Ranger Tararasen and Ranger Ducy Sid helped me to complete this route, without them, I would have not completed the route. They stuck with me through thick and thin, crossing all the rivers and streams as I was not a very good swimmer. They helped to carry my load and cook for me and prepare my place for the short rests we had. Seventh Rangers screwed up their plans.

Shit happens, which was a blessing we stood down for 3 days. We indented beers and rested under the oil palm trees to catch up on our much-needed blissful sleep.

Lt Colonel Harbhajan Jagat Singh

If one, who does not know the Colonel, his demeanor is that of a calm and a very unassuming person. Don't be deceived, when the call came, he answered.

The Colonel in Datuk Seri Yuen Yuet Leng's Book Nation Before Self and Values that do not die, Page 215

The Colonel was from Intake SSC 11, Royal Military College 1967. He was commissioned into 4th Rangers, served there for 6 years. After that went on to become an Instructor at the Recruit Training Center in Port Dickson.

As for normal Officers from the Infantry have to move on, from RTC to 3rd Rangers at Camp Kukusan in Sabah, then the Unit moved to Camp Terendak, he was then the 2IC of the Battalion, the Battalion received it's Colors in 1980. Recent photo of the Colonel Then it was time to move on, he was made an Instructor in the Company Commander's Course of the Army Combat Training Center.

He was made the OC of the Company Commander's Wing for his remarkable training skills. After that went on to become an Instructor at Officer Cadet School. Soon he was posted out to 5th Rangers to become the 2IC at Camp Wardieburn. From there he became the Commanding Officer of Seventh Rangers located in Sri Aman, Sarawak in May 1987 until they moved to Mentakab, in Pahang.

His favourite sport was Sepak Takraw, without fail he played the game nearly every evening with his boys and officers. He was very adept at that game. From there moved to the 509 Regiment in Penang, before his compulsory retirement in 1995. He is proficient in many languages, of course he speaks Punjabi as he is a Punjabi, fluent in Tamil, many an Indian soldier or Officer got their shellacking in Tamil.

He is very fluent in Hokkien too, sadly, not enough of them to receive his wrath but sufficient and he could tear a hole in any Dayak soldier fluently in Iban. The Battalion was on Counter Insurgency Operations in 1973, Col Harbhajan's Alpha Company was kept in reserve. Being the reserve Company, a very dangerous mission fell on his head.

One of the most outstanding and life threatening mission undertaken by him was in the peace negotiations with NKCP leader Bong Kee Chok to surrender along with 481 of his supporters.This negoatiation was led by the Head of the Special Branch of the Royal Malaysian Police, Datuk Seri Yuen Yuet Leng.

In the Book "Nation Before Self" written by him he mentions Lt Col Harbhajan Singh on page 215. Lt Col Harbhajan Singh served in Sarawak in 1967 with 4th Rangers as a Platoon Commander, in the Serian area for 6 months. After which he returned to Ipoh, his base camp.

Served on other operational duties in various parts of Malaysia. In 1972 he returned to Sarawak and served as an Adjutant of 4th Rangers in Camp Wong Padong about 10 kms from Simanggang (now Sri Aman). Camp Pakit was not in existence then. He was involved in various hearts and minds projects in and around the villages and Long Houses in the Engkilili area.

The Military presence there brought about a sense of Security for the people in that area. The duration he operated there was 9 months. At the end of 1972 he returned to the base camp in Ipoh to carry out operational duties at the Malaysia/Thai border against the Communist Party of Malaya Insurgents.

In 1974 he was transferred to Sibu, Sarawak for two years, stationed at Camp Oya, under the Rajang Area Security Command (RASCOM). He carried out operations in the Bintangor and surrounding areas during the peak of the Communist Insurgency. An outstanding and suicidal mission was tasked to him.

He was to provide security for the Head of the Special Branch RASCOM, Superintendent Yuen Yuet Leng (later promoted to Commissioner and was made a Tan Sri after retirement). This was a top secret mission to discuss the terms of surrender with the Leader of a group of 100 Communist Terrorists.

They wanted to discuss the terms only with Superintendent Yuen Yuet Leng. That started the launch of Operation Sri Aman in 1974. The meeting with 8 section leaders was to be held at a location in the Paradom area, where the Landing Point for the helicopter would be prepared by the Communists themselves. The orders for this operation was given by the RASCOM Commander himself, the mission was termed ‘Suicide Mission’.

 He served in various assignments in the Army after that. On the 1st May 1987 he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel to Command 7th Rangers in Camp Pakit, Bandar Sri Aman. It was an after thought by Tan Sri Yuen, where he squeezed in the role played by the Colonel, when he recollected the role payed by Col Harbhajan.

Which was indeed an important one. Col Harbhajan at that time was the OC of A Company 4th Rangers, he was based in Camp Oya, Sibu, Sarawak. His operational playground was in the Rajang Area Security Command (RASCOM). He was called up, his orders were given by the GOC himself, General Jamil.

He was to select 15 of his best men to provide close protection to Datuk Seri Yuen Yuet Leng the Head of the Special Branch. The thoughts running through his head was whether he will come back and see his beloved family again......or feel the sweet flow of ice cold beer downs his thirsty throat.

This was a do or die mission, he held on to the highest traditions of the Ranger Corps and pushed aside his doubts. The following day they were deployed by Nuri to an LP. That LP was constructed by the Communist Terrorists, no one was sure if that location was booby trapped. The LP was located in a valley.

The helicopter hovered over the LP. The down wash from the helicopter's rotors were very strong and the elephant grass and bushes were swaying on that misty morning, the Booby Trap Clearing Team and some members of the protection team jumped down avoiding the stumps on the ground. The BCT cleared the LP giving the 'all clear' that the LP was not booby trapped.

The Colonel sent his men into whatever good fire positions there were. He realized that they were outgunned and outnumbered. Then again he would give them a fight that they will remember. Once the all clear was given an Alouette Helicopter carrying the Head of the Special Branch, Datuk Seri Yuen Yuet Leng landed.

In another Alouette was a Major Maniam from the Artillery Regiment, took up his role as the Forward Observation Officer in an Air Observation Post, to rain down fire on that area with an Artillery Barrage, in the event things did not go according to plan. That area was a registered target.

During the operation if anything untoward were to happen it was Col Harbhajan's call to bring out the Head of the Special Branch, dead or alive at all costs!! That, the Head of the Special Branch did NOT know! The operation was nicknamed "Suicide Mission". Col Harbhajan located a GPMG team around the LP, the Commander of the team reported via radio that there were around 80 CT's all around the LP, ready to open up on Col Harbhajan and his merry men if they felt threatened.

The Head of Special Branch handed over a list of names of all the CT Leaders named after cigarette brands to Leong Chee Wah, the Depury Head of the Special Branch. Fortunately nothing happened which resulted in the CT's returning to Society. One of the conditions was that they be termed as "Returned Enemy Personnel" NOT Surrendered Enemy Personnel.

Amongst the Head of Special Branch's team was a Sergeant Lim who had the uncanny ability to determine if the CT's were sincere or not, this Sergeant had the ability to recognize the CT's even with old photographs. No one knew about this mission, Datuk Seri Yuen Yuet Leng added Col Harbhajan as an afterthought on page 215, as he himself had forgotten about that "Suicide Mission".

We had our own problems, communism in Malaysia was becoming active encouraged by the victories of their communist brethren in Vietnam. It had a profound impact on our training. All of us were serving by choice; we tried to excel in training as brutal as it was.

The butt of the SLR (self-loading rifle) was quite often used as club against us by our beloved instructors; those blood thirsty mother fuckers had no qualms about drawing blood. Some scalps were split, my, did they bleed profusely. The first time we went to fire our weapons, we went to a 25-meter range, all of us were excited, at long last we were going to fire a weapon.

We were lined up in details of five, the details were lined up on the firing point, we were like virgins, nervous, breathless wanting to do well. All the weeks of dry runs towards this day when were finally going to use our “wives”. The command rang out, “Detail to the firing point advance, in the lying unsupported position with a five round magazine load, Action! On your own time go on.”

I placed my cheeks firmly against the butt, aligning the sights on the center bottom base of a white patch on the target, I wrapped my fore finger firmly around the trigger and gently squeezed. I felt the bullet leave the muzzle and the quick recoil, I let loose the remaining four rounds. We inspected weapons and approached the targets at a run.

The instructor was staring at a group size measuring about twenty millimeters. The grouping wasn’t in the center of the target. At that time my knowledge on sights was limited to peering through them. The instructor took the weapon from me.

I was already preparing myself for a nasty butt stroke; instead he looked at the sights, made some adjustments and said, “Don’t let anyone call you four eyes ever again You have a very good group size, I have made some adjustments I want you to fire again. Use the same technique, this time you will hit the spot you are aiming at.” “Thanks sarge”. I did, from then on it was plain sailing whenever I was at the rifle range.

The sergeant who was a real ogre, I shit you not, had this weakness, whenever someone does well at the range he tones down the physical abuse, mind you not the verbal abuse. After that we went into sub-machine guns, the only kind available at that time was the Stirling sub-machine gun, 9 millimeters. It was a British weapon, most equipment at that time was British, as they were our colonial masters some time back.

At that time, they traditionally monopolized our Armed Forces equipment, also they exploited maximum our defense spending, and during the old days they used the locals as canon fodder to protect the British Empire against the marauding Japanese during World War 11. Going back to the Sterling. It was a cute looking weapon, it’s butt was foldable and had a thirty round feed magazine.

It was used in the Star War movies, and was depicted as a futuristic looking weapon. Its breech was spring operated, when it’s cocked one has to be careful, as it would go off, if dropped or accidentally hit. Quite a number of unfortunate souls met their end this way, not mentioning the ones maimed or crippled. It was fun training with this weapon, I became adept at using this weapon.

All those guys who were not impressive enough at shooting always used to get the shit clobbered out of them. The other part of training I really hated was foot drill, the instructors loved drilling our arses to the ground. This is where they get to show their stuff, all of our instructors were from the Royal Malay Regiment, only Malays are allowed to join this regiment, other races are not allowed to die for their country fighting in this regiment only Malays are, their motto is Loyalty and Devotion.

The instructors of this calibre believed in their minds that by raising their feet high and stomping them into the ground meant they had great discipline. They liked it here, after work they could go back to their loved ones, one of the perks was they could sell foodstuff to the recruits to supplement their income, they do this by exploitation, the British had taught them well, they bring a big basket filled to the top with packets of food, nominate one blue eyed boy, one who sucks up to the instructors, to distribute the food packets.

He is given orders that the food must all be sold out. Woe betide any recruit who does not buy, it would be worst than hell for him. The problem with this business is the customer, the pitiable recruit earns only US 8 dollars fortnightly, current rate during those times. Some recruits need to send home money to their loved ones, some of them being the sole bread winner.

They managed to save and send by braving the food served at the cook house. All their efforts become undone when confronted with these blood sucking instructors. We who don't have money, need not worry, we are allowed credit! Imagine, one platoon of recruits has an average of 8 instructors, half of them are entrepreneurs, means all the recruits will remain in debt until the end of basic training for a duration of six months. One will observe after a month some of the instructors changing from Lambretta scooters to Italian Vespas, their business acumen paying off.

Ivan and Me during one of the Mess Nights

At that time, we had a young Officer who was a Captain, he was the Adjutant, he was my junior. During the exercise the operational part, I handled all of it. The Adjutant handled all the administrative issues. He is one of those “holy” teetotalers; do not like us who drink. I had not slept for nearly 3 days. The Adjutant was not one who was deprived of sleep.

Whenever the CO came back to rest. I briefed him on troop locations and casualties. Normally Lt Col Zulkapli will not sleep, as he enjoys staying awake and chatting. He likes my company. I stay awake with him until morning; normally he goes to sleep around 4 am. I have to finish checking the messages and contact reports (clashes with the enemy).

I shower and I normally go after which I have coffee and go around the perimeter. By the time I relax, it will be 7 am. I wait for my CO, if he is not up yet, I will have my breakfast. That morning at around 8 am, after I had just eaten my breakfast I saw a Land Rover coming towards the Battalion Tactical Headquarters which was a marquee tent.

It was displaying a single star, which meant that the 4th Brigade Commander was coming to visit. I decided to brief the General. I saluted the General and told him to take a seat, told him that the CO was in the washroom. I started briefing him, orientated him on the map and started relating troop movements and enemy locations.

Just then my CO came in saluting the General. The General invited my CO to sit beside him; your Operations Officer is very detailed. After that, they adjourned for coffee. My CO said, “Indian, why did you not wake me up earlier?” I told him that when I walked past his tent he was snoring like a throttled buffalo. Which he normally accuses me of.

I just did not want to disturb him since when I cannot handle Generals. Only I could speak like that to him. The General left, I told the CO, I needed to sleep. He told me to carry on. I saw a huge tree where there was one of our Infantry Fighting Vehicle parked, I took a camp bed and laid it beside the vehicle soon I was asleep,

Occasionally, hearing voices, ask Captain Swami to handle it, he is sleeping there. That was the voice of the Adjutant the “holy” MoFo, then I heard the voice of the CO say, “Let him sleep, you handle it”. The Adjutant had some senior cronies in MINDEF. That Adjutant started hating me for my drinking as well as the fact I could be so good with the CO.

One day there was a formal dinner, called a Mess Night where you wear formal mess kits. My wife attended with me after drinking the port and wine we were having coffee. The CO spoke, “Indian, do you know that you were about to be posted to the Task Force in Terengganu?”

I was shocked, I did not request that posting, why would I was in my home unit from the time of my commission. Apart from being away as OC Weapons Wing. “Did you know that your Adjutant without even having the courtesy of telling me had you posted out?”

I could see that the CO was very furious. Then he said “I called up MINDEF and had your posting cancelled. Instead the Adjutant will be leaving us soon”. There was a very shocked look on my wife’s face. I was seething with rage, against the dirty son of a bitch, whose parents were not married.

Illustrative Purpose Only

There were two jump off points, one was for the casualty evacuation and another with no holds barred repelling. The casualty evacuation height was about a hundred feet, whereas the repelling height was around 150 feet.

We slowly climbed up the steep side of the quarry with a granite surface. Five guys were nominated to be the anchors for the casualty evacuation to man the safety line. One person who held on to the safety rope was himself anchored to a thick tree stump; he would control the safety rope, while the rest would be reliefs and also help him to control the descent.

I was teamed up with a Sergeant Luddin from 23 RMR. I was to be the casualty, strapped to his back. He was to walk down the cliff whist carrying me on his back. I was also attached to a safety line around my shoulders. He slowly walked to the edge of the cliff. He yelled down requesting permission to the officer in charge to descend.

I heard the officer grant him permission. He started descending at a slow pace. We were being supervised by the “Rope Shaman” (Bomoh Tali) who was from the Malaysian Special Forces Search and Rescue Team. From the back of Luddin the height was challenging. He was slowly descending using his right hand for slowing and accelerating the descent. Something snapped within him.

He let go of the controlling rope and grasped the rope that was wound round his snap-link with both his hands. What happened to me? I was upside down and starring at the rocks below. He was chanting his prayers panic stricken, in Arabic. Being upside down I managed to grab the rope that controlled his descent. I managed to stop him losing control by tugging at his line.

I started calling to the Sergeant, “Din, Din steady, take control.” My head was hearing the song, “Old Turkey Buzzard” from McKenna’s Gold. “Every mother’s son has got a date with fate…….the men who dream and die for gold on the rocks below”. I was looking to free myself from the Sergeant. I was safe at that moment as I had my safety line. Whilst I was staring at the rocks below, I heard a noise.

The “Rope Shaman” was there beside me with a knife. He was repelling head down, to cut me free from the Sergeant! He sliced the rope that was holding me to the Sergeant. I was free. The guys who were operating the safety line pulled me up rapidly,  I clambered over the cliff surface. Once at the top, the guys were pulling me up. It was very nice to be alive. My life did not end that day. Sergeant Luddin had a miserable life that day.

With my late dear mother after becoming an officer

I read somewhere that an enlisted man cannot be struck, it must have been in some US magazine. Armed with this powerful knowledge I summoned up my courage and told this, Corporal Latiff off. Big mistake, real big mistake, he looked shocked at first and broke in a fit of laughter, suddenly he stopped laughing, heard a thwack sound, felt this pain burning across my back followed by two more strokes.

I took heel, I was now battle scarred, with three welts running across my back. From now on I decided, I am not going to read any more American comics. They are a bad influence on impressionable people like me. From then on I decided to keep my distance from this weirdo, but the problem in RTC is that you can’t avoid lunatics, every third person is a lunatic, and they had this misbegotten impression that they can beat the shit out of any recruit they came across. 

At the Menyala Range

We were made to fall in and given an introduction to physical training on what to expect for the next six months. It was only torture, devised by the most sadistic of minds. It’s like this, when I say go I want you to reach that tree by the count of twenty, normally the tree would be three hundred meters away. You are slow, go! It is repeated so many times you on the verge of collapse, as you are too exhausted the PTI would order you to lie down and start rolling towards the same tree, we are of course helped along the way by a few well placed kicks.

Up and down we roll, some of the guys are puking some greenish stuff. Then it comes to squat jumps, you squat down with both your hands behind the neck, with one knee forward, the PTI says up, you jump and alternate your knees forward. The commands become faster and faster, it’s a never ceasing nightmare. Thoughts like, will I make it, am I going to die of pain comes at you.

Without any warning this kind of a torture comes to an abrupt halt. Another torture takes place while your thighs are crying and begging for relief. You are instructed to place your index finger on a spot on the ground bend over and move your butt in a circle, this torture tickles the instructors pink, we are asked to rotate faster and faster.

Some of the guys just fall over, caused by dizziness they are soon set upon by the other instructors, they must have really missed playing soccer, as they were practicing their kicks on the writhing bodies that fell. It’s over, it’s time for breakfast, bits of grass, mud and weeds are stuck all over us, once we reach the barracks we are given five minutes to clean up.

The instructors are always there to assist us in doing everything in double quick time by instilling in us the fear of corporal punishment. We are marched up to the cookhouse in the typical military fashion. Most of the guys are in a daze, thank god all the running long distances was paying off for me. Some of the guys had blank looks about them, probably it had not sunk into them that they were in hell.

Most of them could not eat due to the grueling physical torture they experienced. We were given bread with jam. Noodles, an egg, tea, coffee and chocolate drinks, I relieved those guys who did not have an appetite of their food. Then it was back to the normal torture otherwise known as training. I was after a time, determined that nothing would faze me.

Physical training was not always the same on other days, sometimes it was unarmed combat, with bayonets and rifles. It was non stop prodding if it was bayonet training, and your arms would feel like falling off. Normally at the end of it all you feel physically bruised and mentally abused. I decided to improvise, adapt and overcome anything that would come in the way of my goals.

I intended to fulfill my father’s wish that I become an officer. Just before I left home my father said,” I want you to become an officer and make us proud of you.” I decided whatever they threw at me I would slug it out. During the course of my training I always looked forward to fire arms training. All of us were issued with a standard infantry rifle, a Belgian FN self- loading rifle 7.62 millimeter.

It weighed ten and a half pounds. It had a wooden stock and butt with a metal plate. Boy, was it a very long rifle, especially when I had the bayonet attached, it was nearly as tall as me. It could fire on automatic, but then it was not encouraged as you had to split it at the butt to enable you to push the safety catch to auto, therefore we always left it at semi automatic.

The bullet feed was through a 20 round magazine. The breech block and it’s parts were gas operated, one had to adjust the gas regulator to the correct sized hole to minimize stoppages. Its sights could be ranged up to 600 meters. It was an awesome piece of equipment during that period of time.

The Vietnam War was at it’s height, the Americans were getting clobbered by the “gooks”. Their tactics, similar to our communist terrorists, was paying them back by putting a huge number of American youth in body bags.