‘So what’s our place in all this?’ Boney Maronie asked.
‘You’ll be called upon to be part of patrols based for long periods in the jungle,’ Pryce-Jones replied. ‘There you’ll make contact with the aboriginals, the Sakai, who’re being coerced by the terrorists into providing them with food. Once contact is made, you’ll attempt to win their trust by supplying them with penicillin and other medicines, by defending their kampongs from the CT and in any other way you can.’
‘Bloody nursemaids again!’ Dennis the Menace groaned.
‘Is staying for long periods in the jungle feasible for anyone other than the aboriginals?’ Dead-eye asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ Captain Callaghan said. ‘It’s a daunting task, but it can be done. Indeed, at a time when seven days was considered the absolute limit for white men, one of our Scout patrols spent 103 days in there. The CC’ – Callaghan nodded in the direction of Major Pryce-Jones – ‘has spent six months alone in the ulu and, as you know, I’ve just returned from a three-month hike through it. So it can be done.’
‘If the Ruperts can do it,’ Alf Laughton said, using the SAS nickname for officers, ‘then I reckon we can too.’
‘As Trooper Dudbridge has expressed his disdain for the hearts-and-minds side of the operation,’ Pryce-Jones cut in, ‘I should inform you that your main task will be to assist the Malay Police Field Force at kampongs and in jungle-edge patrols. You’ll also send out small patrols from your jungle base to ambush the CT on the tracks they use to get to and from their hide-outs.’
‘That sounds more like it,’ Pete Welsh said, grinning as his wild blue eyes flashed from left to right and back again. ‘Doing what we’ve been trained to do.’
‘You’ve also been trained in hearts-and-minds tactics,’ Sergeant Lorrimer reminded him, ‘so don’t ever forget it.’
‘Sorry, boss,’ Welsh replied, grinning lopsidedly and rolling his eyes at his mates. ‘No offence intended.’
‘Good.’ Lorrimer turned away from him and spoke to Major Pryce-Jones instead. ‘Will we be engaged only in jungle-edge patrols?’
‘No,’ Captain Callaghan replied after receiving the nod from Pryce-Jones. ‘It’s true that in the past we’ve avoided deep-penetration raids, but because of the increasing success of our food-denial operations, the CT are now heading deeper into the ulu. Unfortunately for them, in order to grow their own food they have to fell trees and make clearings. As our Company Commander has rightly pointed out, such clearings can be spotted from the air, which means they’re vulnerable to attack. We’ll therefore attack them. We’ll do so by parachuting – or tree-jumping, which you’re about to learn – into a confined Dropping Zone near the area. Then we’ll place a cordon around the clearing. It won’t be easy and certainly it will be dangerous, but in the end we’ll win.’
‘We’re going to parachute into the jungle?’ Alf Laughton asked, sounding doubtful.
‘Yes,’ Captain Callaghan answered. ‘If I can do it, anyone can do it – and believe me, I’ve done it.’
‘Is that one of the things we’ll learn in Johore?’
‘Correct,’ Callaghan replied.
‘I can’t wait,’ Pete Welsh said sarcastically. ‘The top of a tree right through my nuts. I’ll be back in the boys’ choir.’
‘Assuming that Trooper Welsh doesn’t lose his precious nuts on a tree,’ Sergeant Lorrimer said, ‘and we all make it down to the DZ in one piece, what problems can we expect to find in that terrain?’
‘Most of the country is dense and mountainous jungle,’ Captain Callaghan replied, ‘considered habitable only by aboriginal peoples, such as the Sakai. The hill contours make for steep, slippery climbs, while the routes off the paths are dense with trees that can trip you up and break your ankles. Nevertheless, as the few paths are likely to be mined or ambushed, you’ll have to avoid them and instead move over uncharted ground. The terrorists have a network of jungle informers and will be using them to keep track of your movements, which will help them either to attack or avoid you. Finding them before they find you won’t be made any easier by the difficulties of navigating in the jungle. You will, however, be aided by Dyak trackers, Iban tribesmen from Sarawak, all experts in jungle tracking and survival.’
‘We go out in small patrols?’ Dead-eye said.
‘Yes. Three- or four-man teams. In the words of the founder of the Malayan Scouts, Lieutenant-Colonel Calvert: “The fewer you are, the more frightened you are, therefore, the more cautious you are and, therefore, the more silent you are. You are more likely to see the enemy before he will be able to see you.” We abide by those words.’
‘What’s our first, specific mission?’ Boney Maronie asked.
Callaghan stepped aside to let Major Pryce-Jones take the centre of the raised platform and give them the good news.
‘Aerial reconnaissance has shown that the CT are growing food in a clearing in the Belum Valley, a remote, long mountain valley located near the Thai border. That valley will be searched by Gurkha, Commando and Malaya Police patrols, all moving in on foot, which should take them five days but gives them the advantage of being more difficult to spot. You men will form the stop, or blocking, party, parachuting in a day’s march from the RV. This operation will commence once you’ve completed your extensive jungle training in Johore.’
‘When do we leave, boss?’ Dennis the Menace asked.
‘Tonight.’
The camp in Johore was a primitive affair, shared between Gurkhas, Royal Marines, RAF, British Army REME, Kampong Guards from the Federation of Malaya Police and SAS personnel. Hastily thrown together in a clearing in the jungle, it was surrounded by coconut palms, papaya trees and deep monsoon drains, with rows of wood-and-thatch barracks, latrines, open showers, a mess hut, armoury, quartermaster’s store, motor pool, administrative block, NAAFI shop, airstrip for fixed-wing aircraft and helicopters, and a centrally located ‘sports ground’ with an obstacle course at one end, used for everything from weapons training to Close Quarters Battle (CQB) and unarmed combat.
‘They don’t even give us one night in Penang,’ Alf Laughton complained as they were selecting their camp-beds and settling into the barracks, ‘and now they plonk us down in this dump. A diabolical liberty!’
‘More dust, heat, flies and mosquitoes,’ Dennis the Menace said. ‘Welcome to Paradise!’
‘You know why these barracks are raised off the ground, don’t you?’ Pete Welsh asked rhetorically, having the answer all prepared. ‘Because this place is crawling with scorpions, centipedes and snakes, every one of ’em poisonous.’
‘It’s crawling with everything except women,’ Boney Maronie said, ‘which is why they should have given us at least one night out in Penang. I think I’m getting ready to explode. I’ll drench the whole fucking ceiling.’
‘Boasting again,’ Dennis the Menace said. ‘You haven’t really got it in you. But that obstacle course out there looks like hell. A few runs over that fucker and you’ll soon get rid of all your excess energy. By the time you’ve finished, you won’t remember what a woman is, let alone what she feels like.’
‘Tree-jumping,’ Dead-eye said. ‘That’s what bothers me. Those trees are 150 feet high and pretty damned dense. I don’t fancy climbing those with a bergen, rifle and knotted rope, let alone parachuting