Deep Behind Enemy Lines, page 25
As they walked behind the OC Bill looked around. The whole military area looked quite sizeable, and didn’t include 215 Squadron’s office accommodation. He admired the beautifully kept tropical exterior areas and smooth carpet-like lawns adjoining the offices. Several gardeners, clearly Asian locals, were working diligently around the beddings. One of the younger gardeners seemed to be in charge of ensuring hosepipes were strategically positioned and functioning for best water coverage.
When they reached the conference room, which was secured by an outside veranda, the three newcomers were ushered into what they were surprised to find was an extremely opulent work environment. There was a large table, a dozen conference chairs, projector screen, maps, telephone, lectern, ceiling fans and windows with whiteout and blackout screens. The veranda windows, which overlooked the gardens, were, shielded by the whiteout screens and the large ceiling fans were running quietly. The décor, they opined, could match any British Company Boardroom.
‘Drop your bags in the corner over there and make yourselves comfortable,’ the OC invited, and ushered them to chairs. Once seated and comfortable he continued, ‘Our Singapore military unit is made up of administrative and support staff, the three of you from an operational aspect and myself as the Officer Commanding. We also receive transiting Royal Signals personnel from our parent regiment in Seremban en route to the Borneo campaign.
17 Gurkha Signal Regiment in Seremban is where I report to the Commanding Officer. However, I’m currently seconded to Changi from my squadron at the regiment, and answerable to the UKFO for counter terrorism, insurgency and reconnaissance task force activities in this theatre, and more recently for the support of the Borneo campaign. My operational instructions and duties come directly from Mr Reeves.’
Bill was thinking he was probably right in his assessment that Mr Reeves had the equivalent military rank of Lieutenant Colonel.
‘Would you like to give them a little more insight into how your organisation functions in this region, Brian,’ asked Captain Roberts.
‘Certainly. As already explained gentlemen, my direct reporting is to the UKFO. I coordinate operations on their behalf on a vertical basis with Royal Signals personnel, deciphering enemy transmissions. Conversely, I receive my operational instructions in this active theatre from there.
‘I also have liaison responsibilities with the Intelligence Corps unit at a GCHQ listening station in Singapore where monitoring of most of the local South-East Asia regions’ airwaves takes place. Furthermore, I’ve a lateral reporting responsibility for intelligence matters with the British High Commissioner in Singapore. Whilst you’re here on operational duties, all reconnaissance information from your covert activities in Borneo will be radioed to Captain Roberts. He will pass such to me for dissemination and evaluation. Do you have any questions?’
‘Yes,’ Bill said. ‘Presumably we’ll be using the FO VHF lightweight portable P225 radios? Obviously, there’s no great distance between Borneo and Singapore but there’s the potential challenge of significant obstruction to radio paths by the jungle topography. In which case, would we also be issued with FO HF 100 radios for greater distance communication if required?’
‘As and when requested, I’ll issue the HF 100 and VHF P225 radios together with wire antennae, hand generators and first line spares.’
‘And how about secure frequencies for both?’
‘I’ll also issue you with the appropriate encryption equipment and secure frequencies to be used. This will all take place prior to embarking for Borneo.’
‘Thank you, Sir. And may I also ask about defensive weaponry and ammunition, and possibly the availability of the special Gemini amphibious craft with outboard engines, if needed?’
‘H2S side arms, special 7.62 SLR weapons and the ubiquitous SMG Sten gun close quarter weapon, which I understand you are familiar with, together with amphibians and outboards, if deemed to be a requirement, will be palletised and shipped with you when requested. However, I think from a stealth point of view, Dayak or Iban tribal dugout canoes could well be more appropriate for these operations, with an accompanying border scout/tracker/interpreter as well.
Compatible 9mm and 7.62mm parabellum ammunition will be provided to you locally.
‘Very good, Mr Reeves, and thank you. I’m certain we will have further questions for you later,’ replied Bill.
The OC nodded. ‘Just to confirm what was probably explained to you in Nairobi. You’ll stay in the mess here temporarily and then on Wednesday 15th January you’ll travel to the Jungle Warfare School at Johor Bahru. This is the capital of the Malaya State of Johor and sits at the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula. You’ll undergo a ten-day intensive course of jungle warfare and survival training before returning here on Saturday 25th January.
The training course is to prepare you for covert operations in Borneo and equip you to support the emergency in that theatre. This is a basic overview of your assignment in Asia Pacific. Mr Reeves and I will be giving you more detailed information and instructions once you’ve settled in, and we’ll discuss these matters further on Tuesday morning. Then after your training at JWS I’ll update you in much greater detail regarding our tasks, operations and specialist military equipment requirements. Do you have any further questions at this time?’
‘I don’t think so Sir. As you say, once we’ve completed the jungle warfare training we’ll be better placed to raise any specifics in view of your information.
‘Very good,’ said the OC. So saying, he picked up the phone and called the duty sergeant to come and show the trio to their mess accommodation. Five minutes later he arrived and invited them to follow him.
‘Thank you, Sir and Mr Reeves,’ said Bill. They retrieved their bags and followed the duty sergeant out of the room. He introduced himself as Ted Lockwood and the team returned the compliment by introducing themselves.
‘Been here long Ted?’ enquired Bill as they walked to the mess.
‘About two years, with one to go. It’s a good posting for me but I can’t vouch for how it will be for you guys as I understand you’ll be off to Borneo pretty soon to join the troops in the confrontation with the Indonesians.’ commented Ted.
‘That’s about as much as we understand,’ replied Bill, not wanting to give away too much information concerning the reason for their assignment, and relieved they had arrived at the mess, cutting off any awkward conversation.
After the trio had left Captain Roberts in the conference room, Reeves looked enquiringly at the OC and asked, ‘What’s your impression of the team, Joseph?’
The conversation between these two not being formal, the OC replied, ‘Well, Brian, militarily they are directly responsible to me. The reports I’ve received on them are they’re highly regarded by their previous OC, Major James Brown. Their claim to fame, especially WO Scraggs, assisted by the two sergeants, is having been responsible for helping to bag probably one of the most wanted and infamous insurgent warlords of the Shifta insurrection in Kenya. I am also informed that Mr Scraggs is currently up for a GSM concerning gallantry in action. They therefore come highly recommended as capable, reliable men.’
‘That’s interesting’ replied Brian Reeves.
Chapter 45
Sergeant Lockwood showed the three men to their rooms, each of which were light, airy, quite large, had nice en suites and thankfully big ceiling fans. They were looking forward to a rest, but first they had arranged to meet in the mess to slake their overdue thirst.
An hour later Bill had unpacked, had a shower, got dressed in mufti and made his way to the mess lounge where he introduced himself to the barman, Joe Crow. He was enjoying a well-chilled beer when Seth and Darren joined him. Joe shook their hands. He was a very cheerful bloke if his smile was anything to go by.
‘What’s it to be lads, a nice cold Tiger beer or San Miguel?’ They both ordered a Tiger. It hadn’t been a completely dry run from Nairobi to here but during the last leg from Gan they’d certainly been spitting feathers. Coffee just didn’t hit the spot!
Bill grinned. Bloody hell I’ve got Bill and Ben the Flower Pot men on board, he thought as they raised their glasses. ‘So, what do you think this far,’ he asked them.
‘Well, from what we’ve clocked, and putting it in the vernacular, it aint ’arf ’ot mum! It’s certainly hotter and more humid than Kenya, but we’ll just have to get used to it. And fast, I guess,’ said Seth.
‘I must say that from the little I’ve seen of RAF Changi so far, the whole complex looks to be a nice headquarters. Very upper crust considering how the grounds are tended, not to mention the great accommodation. How about you, Sir?’ said Darren.
‘My room’s very comfortable, at least for the time I’ll be in it. Our two superiors seem OK so far, and I’m certainly interested to find out how our course at JWS is going to pan out. I’m looking forward to meeting the Gurkha instructors, keeping in mind that we can anticipate an on-going relationship with their troops for the foreseeable future. I know they’re excellent to work alongside.
Bare in mind guys we need to be in the OC’s office sharp tomorrow morning to get reporting instructions for JWS on Wednesday. Clean fatigues and badges of rank; smart presentation all round! I therefore suggest we chill out and take a look-see around the camp facilities, then an early night, OK?’ Seth and Darren nodded.
The following morning they made their way to the OC’s office where they drew smartly to attention and saluted.
‘Good morning, Captain Roberts, Sir, and Mr Reeves,’ Bill greeted.
‘Morning, gentlemen,’ replied the OC and Reeves in unison.
‘Take a seat and we’ll bring you up to speed on immediate and on-going activities.’
Once seated at the conference table the OC continued. ‘As explained, you’re already booked to go to JWS on Wednesday.’
‘Questions, Sir! How do we get there, who do we report to and at what time do we leave Changi? Also, what about return transport,’ Bill fired off.
‘OK, Mr Scraggs, I was going to address those items shortly but since you’ve pre-empted me, I’ll give you the details now.’
The OC sounded somewhat exasperated and curt in reply. Bill realised he should probably have kept quiet and let the briefing take its course, asking questions at the end.
‘You’ll be picked up by Land Rover outside this office at 0800 hours and journey via the Woodlands Causeway, Singapore to Johor Bahru where you are due to arrive in JWS at 0900 hours. A Sergeant Balbahadur Rai of 7 Gurkha Rifles who’ll be leading your training will meet you. You can expect to be collected, again by Land Rover, from JWS for return here on Saturday 25th January at 1600 hours. Any other questions?’
‘No, Sir. Thank you.’
‘So, next item. I’ve received a communication from the CO 17 Gurkha Signal Regiment on behalf of Major Kemple-Scott who’s OC the Gurkha Independent Parachute Company and currently Commanding Officer of the camp at Kluang. He asks if you and your team, being fully parachute-trained, might be willing to give assistance to his company, which is destined for operations in Borneo.
He has a new Gurkha intake for ground training and subsequent six qualifying jumps here at the Sembawang disused airfield. Would you be agreeable to this? It’s extra-curricular to FO expectations of your operational roles in the Borneo campaign but nevertheless, Mr Reeves has agreed with approval from UKFO.’
‘Yes of course, Sir. We’d be only too pleased to assist our Gurkha comrades,’ said Bill, answering for the three of them ‘Where is the ground training taking place?’
‘Kluang, in Johor.’
Bill looked at his two men who were grinning smugly at the thought of getting in further parachute practice, not to mention some useful instructor practice prior to embarking on active service.
‘Well done, Mr Scraggs. I think you’ll find Major Kemple-Scott very interesting. He’s a tad eccentric but a dedicated and extremely experienced British Gurkha Officer, multi-lingual in the art of South East Asian languages and dialects, including Nepali/Gurkhali. I’ll let HQ Seremban know and make the necessary travel arrangements and we’ll discuss this further on your return from JWS.’
‘Yes Sir, and thank you,’ said Bill and the trio left the office.
Back in the mess Darren said, ‘If it’s alright with you Skipper, Seth and I want to take a wander around the camp and see what else it’s got to offer by way of recreation facilities, and then see you at supper.
‘No problem, go ahead. I’ve also got a few private things to attend to,’ replied Bill.
Back in his room, Bill’s thoughts immediately turned to Mo, so he sat at the desk and wrote another letter to her. It amazed him he’d suddenly got the writing bug but somewhere deep inside was the urgent need to keep the thread of contact with her, if only by letter. It felt like having been starved of food for the longest time and he so needed to pull the plate closer and tuck in.
When he looked at his watch he saw an hour and a half had slipped by in what seemed like minutes. He’d covered ten pages and wondered where all the verbal had come from. As he read it through he hoped she wouldn’t be bored rigid with all the burble. But what the hell, the ball was in her court, so to speak. Having addressed the envelope, careful to put his details on the back, he went over to the mess caterer who pointed him in the direction of the out-going mailbox at the BFPO and he headed off in that direction. On asking approximately how long it would take for the letter to get to where it was going he was told about four to five working days.
Bill next took a casual walk around the camp and after a few hundred yards spotted the NAAFI. He went in and saw a flower service. His thoughts still on Mo, he decided to send her a bouquet.
‘You don’t by any chance use Interflora do you?’
‘Well no, Sir, but we use the NAAFI’s own service, especially if you want to send to a member of the armed forces in another location the female assistant replied.’
‘Great. It’s to my girlfriend at RAF Eastleigh in Nairobi, Kenya.’
‘We can certainly deal with that Sir. Perhaps you’d like to choose the flowers you want in the bouquet. Would you like me to help you?’
‘That would be great,’ said Bill with a cheeky smile on his face.
The selection of indigenous Singapore flowers was numerous, including orchids, and they chose a beautiful array. The assistant wrote down the choices on an order form and asked for the recipient details and what he’d like to say on the card.
He thought for a few moments and then wrote, Hi Mo, here safe and sound. I love and miss you my darling, thinking of you all the time and hope to be in contact again shortly. Yours as always. Love Bill XXXX.
‘How much will it be and how long will it take to get to Kenya?’ he asked.
‘Twenty pounds, and it will take approximately two days.’
‘That’s good. Thanks for all your help.’
‘No problem, Sir’ the sales lady replied.
Bill’s emotional hunger was now somewhat appeased, but he knew he wouldn’t feel totally full until, please God, he got a reply from her.
On Wednesday morning, 15th January, Bill met his team at breakfast, appropriately dressed and ready for their journey to JWS in Jahor Bahru. The Land Rover was waiting for them outside the OC’s office. They climbed aboard with their few belongings and the driver set off for the causeway. The weather was again beautiful although still decidedly warm and humid, particularly at such an early hour, and the breeze from the open windows was very welcome as they drove along. So, these are the tropics thought Bill.
They arrived at the guardroom gates and informed the duty corporal they were there to meet Sergeant Balbahadur Rai. They were directed to pull into a small layby to wait and shortly saw a Gurkha Sergeant approaching them. The time was 0900 hours.
‘Good morning gentlemen, I’m Sergeant Rai, 7th Gurkha Rifles. Welcome to JWS Johor.’
Bill introduced himself and Sergeants Stevens and Newell, after which Sergeant Rai informed them they were first going to their accommodation in the Gurkha Sergeants’ Mess.
‘It’s certainly an appropriate location,’ said Bill, observing the dense jungle all around.
‘Yes, we’ve been here for quite some time now, ever since the communist counter-insurgency campaign in Malaya during 1954 when this training centre was established.’
Their rooms were basic but adequate, although bathroom and shower facilities were communal.
‘What do you think, Skipper?’ Darren asked.
‘I guess we couldn’t have got Hilton standard, so there’ll be no trimmings. We’re here to learn survival tactics in primary jungle and primitive swamp conditions, and I reckon we won’t be in this accommodation for more than one or two nights overall. The jungle will mainly be our home for the duration,’ commented Bill drily.
They unpacked their few things and agreed to meet in the general recreation hall that doubled as the canteen.
‘At least they have a bar,’ observed Seth.
‘Since it’s nearly lunch time how about a quick whet? There won’t be too many more opportunities for this luxury,’ hazarded Bill.
So they moved as one, quickly followed by Sergeant Rai. ‘I assume this is your aperitif time?’
‘Spot on sergeant! What’s yours?’ offered Bill.
‘I’ll have a small glass of Roxie. It’s duty-free rum, a Hindu alcohol favourite,’ he responded.
‘OK, Roxie it is. And three Tigers he ordered from the duty barman.’
‘We can sit down in thirty minutes for lunch; dal bhat, Gurkha-style,’ explained Sergeant Rai.
