Borneo 1965 & 2003.
They come with a "health warning" concerning exact times
(apart from the telegram). Age comes with baggage especially were memory is concerned!
Like the whole of 2 Para on the 31st Dec 1964
at about 20:00 hrs I received a telegram recalling me to Barracks in Aldershot for 12:00hrs 1st Jan 1965. I and many others
returned that night and most of the Battalion were back, if not sober, by the allotted time. All were informed we were flying
to the far-east in the next few days.
On arrival in Singapore the Battalion went to Kota Tingi
the Jungle Warefare School for a crash course in Jungle Warfare that lasted about 6 weeks as I recall. I do remember one soldier
asking the 2 IC of the Bn "how long we had to acclimatise " and was told " the time it takes trucks to get to Kota
Tingi"!
When the training had been completed the Main Body sailed
from Singapore on HM Troopship Auby. About 24 hrs later we docked in Kuching and embussed in 4 Tonners for the drive to Bali
Ringin. Kuching was not a particularly impressive town and once on the outskirts the route was on a dirt road that wound its
way eastward through the Jungle to Bali Ringin via a small village called Serian.
At Bali Ringin Rifle Companies were flown to their bases
by Belvedere and Whirlwind Helicopters. All 3 Bases were about 4/5 Ks back from the Indonesian Boarder. A Coy was at Nibong
on the eastern flank, D Coy in the middle at Gunan Gadjak and B Coy at Plaman Mappu on the western flank. At these bases we
were met by the Bn Advance Party personnel and took over from the Argyle & Sutherland Highlanders who flew back on the
return flights.
During the tour there were a number of actions the most notable
being the battle at Plaman Mappu where "Drummie Williams" won his DCM. In all we were there about 4 months and in turn handed
over to the Green Jackets and reversed out the way we came in all the way back to Singapore for return to the UK and later
Bahrain.
As the years passed I often had idle dreams about going back
to see how the place had changed. The opportunity arose to return in 2003 with a group who had the same thoughts and wishes.
So that is how in late April 2003 the gallant band flew into Kuching. The town was now a modern city with all the recognised
branded franchised shops, grand hotels, dual carriageways everywhere and traffic jams. After settling in I made contact with
a Tour Company to see if I could get to Gunan Gadjak. Initially they were not too sure what I was talking about so I went
to their office armed with all of my old maps from the time plus the photos. That sparked a lot of interest from the six staff
in the office who quickly identified that Gunan Gadjak was now called Bunan Gega. There was also mild amusement when I asked
how long it would take to walk there from a road-head.
To cut a long story short the company said they had an English
speaking Iban guide who would drive me there! A few days later myself and a few others set out in an 8 seat mini bus for the
three hour journey. It was dual carriageway for a lot of the way. Serian is now a very pleasant modern town and it was only
the last few miles that we went down to a well graded dirt road. The jungle had virtually gone. There was housing developments
most of the way with large palm-oil plantations, pepper gardens and fish farms/ponds.
As we approached Gunan Gadjak the first thing we saw was
a very large brick built catholic church called St Judes. All about it were brick built houses and tarmac. I asked the driver
where the longhouse was and he said at the other side of the village and we then drove up to it. There were not too many people
about at this time.
I went up the steps of the longhouse (and bashed my head
– the Ibans are quite short!) and shouted to see if anyone was about with no immediate response. I then returned to
the line of houses opposite where our guide was talking to some locals. A small crowd quickly gathered when he told them who
I was. At this point an oldish man appeared and told me, via the guide, that he was a cook boy at the base. He was soon followed
by two ladies who said they helped there mothers do the dhobi for the base. I was told that I was the first to come back and
all there were really fascinated to look at all the old photos which caused lots of laughs.
The base had long gone and was covered in scrub/secondary
jungle. The log bridge has been replaced with a concrete weir and steppingstones and. the old re-supply DZ is a "housing estate".
But the long House survives!
When it came time to leave I was presented with a small Iban
basket by one of the ladies to remind me of the visit. I in turn promised to send them copies of the old photo’s plus
the new ones, which I have since done.
It was really striking how fondly and without rancour the
British Army was remember. I am glad I made the effort it was well worthwhile.
