“YOU joined the army to die,” said our young officers’ commando course instructor when he saw our pitiful faces after being pushed to the limits in training. This, and from the moment we signed the enlistment papers, we were to be prepared to give our lives to king and country, as well as get used to the harsh, crude and unmentionable words of our instructors.

If only the reality of such uncivilised language was made known before we signed on the dotted line, we might not have proceeded to get our heads cropped naked. And ambush could be applied to “friendly forces”, too.

Looking back, it was necessary to make us men out of boys – hardened, bold, and to be leaders of men equally ready to give their lives. I would like to reflect upon my experience as an infantry officer from 1975 to 1985, focusing on fear and courage in jungle warfare.

The end of the Vietnam War gave impetus to the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM) insurgents to launch armed assaults. There was frequent news of booby trap incidents in those days, and I would like to think that I was brave. I was commissioned into the 8th Battalion, the Ranger Regiment but, honestly, infantry was not my choice.

Fear of being booby-trapped was overwhelming, but it did not deter us in our seek-and-destroy missions. Manoeuvring in the jungle favoured those who knew how to use it to their advantage.

Sun Tzu’s maxim, “know thyself, know thy enemy and you need not fear the results of a thousand battles”, was still fresh in my head. We knew batteries used in setting booby traps had a limited life span. Likely places for booby-trap set up were easy trails and paths, to inflict casualties and to demoralise.

Map-reading was my forte. I could read a topographical map and could imagine the terrain a hundred meters ahead. With ground visibility and knowledge of field craft, one could anticipate an enemy ambush location ahead, and take precautions.

Tactical movement formations could be adapted accordingly to face likely threats. In the event of a chance encounter, there was little time to think. Retaliatory action had to be instantaneous – like a drill.

For an infantry officer, mistakes made due to failure to appreciate the ground and employing incorrect tactics could result in deaths or loss of limbs. It was not heroism even if one were to take an enemy bullet. Instead, a court martial awaited.

Knowledge and confidence of an officer had to emerge as collective courage in the fighting unit. That courage should not falter at the prospect of stepping on booby traps.

The responsibilities of an infantry officer were heavy. Fortunately for me, and as records show, I did well in my years leading my platoon and company in the jungle.

Somehow my genes favoured brains over bravery. I would have preferred both attributes.

I remember one operation where I was deployed with my platoon to ambush an enemy drop-box location somewhere near Cameron Highlands. Imagine if they had virtual drop-box then, it would have been a different story today.

We would not have endured the cold without washing for one whole month or collecting rainwater from ours on poncho to drink. Upon returning to civilization I had to scrub hard several times to remove the dirt from my skin, besides having to deal with ticks in my hair.

In another ambush near Sungai Siput, we had to lie in wait at a Chinese cemetery for two weeks. A meeting of the enemy was to take place. We were not afraid of the enemy, rather more of the spirits.

Answering the call of nature had to be disciplined and with permission. Despite that, the spirits did not grant my request for 4-digit numbers in my dreams.

Too long in the jungle for a two-month stretch could make some crazy, especially on festive occasions when you had to stare into the void of the jungle darkness, while thinking of your friends and loved ones enjoying sumptuous food. Just imagine the soldiers had to eat the same compo rations every day and for weeks and months.

I was half crazy. On one occasion, I drove our camp’s Land Rover into a drain after coming out into the bright lights. I thought the fault was more of the British-made stiff steering and not so much because I did not have a driving licence then.

For that adventure, I was put on duty-officer for a month. Duty-officer punishment was probably the most effective and cruel punishment for a young officer then, i.e. to deprive them of nightly disco, especially at a time when John Travolta’s influence was at its peak.

There remains so much to tell. Reminiscing the days when I was a platoon and acting company commander.

The complete story is a soup of emotions – fear and courage, grief when a brother officer and soldier is lost, jubilation when our unit had success in terms of kills, endurance and hardship when our rations ran out and re-supply was not on time, and when we were pushed to the limits in training.

We did our part for our beloved nation so that all may celebrate Malaysia Day in peace.

September 16 is also Royal Ranger Regiment Day. The Sarawak Rangers became the Malaysian Rangers; and the regiment’s 1st, 2nd and 3rd battalions were formed on this day. Happy celebration, comrades. – September 15, 2020.

* Captain Dr Wong Ang Peng is a researcher with an interest in economics, politics, and health issues. He has a burning desire to do anything within his means to promote national harmony. Captain Wong is also a member of the National Patriots Association.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.