A BRIEF HISTORY OF LIFE IN REME

A Craftsman’s Story 1948 to I953

 Contributed by: Phil KEMPSTER

Chapter Thirteen.

The B.M.H. Cameron Highlands, Malaya, 1952

The Cameron Highlands were in the mountainous region of Malaya that separated Malaya from the borders of Thailand and was noted for its temperate climate, warm during the day time and cool after sunset, this being ideal for convalescing, the downside being that to get there you had to travel through some of the most dense jungle areas of Malaya, where a lot of the Communist forces were encamped. This could be done by rail and road but not recommended due to trains regularly being ambushed. I was transported from the hospital by road to R.A.F Changi along with some other patients, including the Ghurkha soldier that had been wounded in the stomach. He had made a remarkable recovery from his wounds and was going on convalescence with me to the Cameron Highlands. We arrived safely at the airfield and were boarded on to an R.A.F Valetta, this was a twin engine transport aircraft that was used to transport personnel to and from R.A.F bases in Malaya.

Me with the R.A.F. Vickers Valetta aircraft waiting to board to go to R.A.F. Ipoh.

I had been to this base before during my recovery course days, we were encamped very close to the perimeter of the runways and the R.A.F allowed us to use their N.A.A.F.I, very nice it was too. This was a very huge base with lots of different types of aircraft flying in and out, Dakotas, Hastings, Yorks, Lancs, Hornets, Spitfires, etc, and even a B.O.A.C. Comet came in because the runway at Kallang airport was not long enough for it to land. Some of us went to watch it come in, sorry I am getting a bit carried away here, I just love aircraft.

To continue my story, we all climbed aboard, got seated and belted in, I think there were about 30 plus seats on this aircraft excluding the crew of three. We were a mixture of Army and Airmen, I was the only R.E.M.E. man on board, I had a window seat looking out over the starboard wing and engine, sat next to me was a very nervous looking R.A.F Cpl. I think, like me, he had never flown before. The crew eventually got the engines started with clouds of smoke coming from the exhausts and off we went at a rate of knots, the noise and vibration was unbelievable until we reached cruising height, then it went a bit quieter.

I looked at the R.A.F. Cpl next to me he was going paler by the minute. A crew member that was looking after us came and gave him a bag in case he was sick which he eventually was. At this point I decided to have a look out of the window, we had left Singapore island and were heading out over the straights of Johore to start our journey to R.A.F. Epoh. The views of the jungle areas were awesome with rivers and small settlements scattered about and large rubber plantations with roads and tracks twisting in and out of the villages, I was beginning to enjoy myself. I glanced at the engine with its prop spinning away merrily when I noticed a small strip of rubber flapping about near to a small inspection hatch or oil filling point. I thought shall I tell some one about it? But after seeing the state this Cpl sat next to me was in I thought better of it, he would have probably had a fit or something, and anyway the rubber strip vanished so I thought no more about it. As we flew over the more dense areas of jungle we started to climb to a higher altitude, I assumed this was to avoid any small arms fire from the enemy below us. I knew this used to happen to helicopters on sorties over these areas. As we approached the more mountainous regions near to our destination there was quite a lot of turbulence, this was a bit unnerving. We landed safely at R.A.F. Epoh where those of us that were travelling to the Cameron Highlands were soon disembarked and loaded on to an R.A.S.C. personnel carrier for our journey to the B.M.H. What a journey this turned out to be. After leaving Epoh we stopped near to some paddy fields with local women in their big round hats busy planting rice, the only time I had ever seen this being done was in books at school and in films, I was wishing that I had my camera with me.

After a short time we were joined by more vehicles, including armoured cars, so now we were quite a convoy. We set off with an armoured car leading the way in front and one at the rear of the convoy, I thought to myself it must be a bit dangerous up ahead and there’s us in an open backed truck. The start of the journey was quite flat with paddy fields, coconut palms, rubber plantations, small settlements of local people living in their houses on stilts with a roof made from palm leaves. I was beginning to enjoy this trip. We started to climb through thick undergrowth with jungle areas on both sides, local natives were waving to us from the undergrowth, they were stark naked and lived in the jungle. I forget the name of this tribe but I know they were friendly and were used by our forces to track through the jungle to seek out the enemy camps. We now began to climb steeply with hairpin bends and sheer drops down the mountain sides covered in thick jungle and as we climbed even higher it started to get cooler and now and again we could hear gunfire, this apparently was from our armoured car escorts firing into the undergrowth to keep any would be ambushers at bay. By this time it was beginning to go dark and really cold, we were only dressed in our jungle olive green uniforms and I started to shiver and stuffed my beret down my shirt front to keep my chest warm. I had never been so cold since leaving Blighty. We eventually arrived at the B.M.H. Cameron Highlands to be greeted by the nurses and staff, we were given hot drinks and a meal and were soon tucked up in our beds for the night we even had blankets to keep us warm, a bit of a change from sleeping without a stitch on and just a mosquito net over your bed sweating all night.

The B.M.H. Cameron Highlands, Malaya, 1952

After a good nights sleep I awoke quite early and started to look around the ward I was in. We were quite a mixed bag of infantrymen, airmen, corps personnel like myself and some S.A.S that had been wounded by friendly fire whilst on patrol in the jungle behind enemy lines. We were all walking wounded recovering in this marvellous Hospital way up in the Cameron Highlands. I was soon to start a course of physical therapy carried out by a gorgeous blond Q.A.R.A.N.C Nursing Sister, the exercises were hell but it was worth it, she was a doll. We were allowed to go out in our free time, there was a small village with shops and stalls selling their wares, the views across the tea plantations to the distant mountains were breath taking. It was hard to believe that in the jungle thousands of feet below us there was a war going on, we could hear mortar fire and small arms fire echoing in the valleys below. Some of the regiments were stationed not far from the hospital some I noticed were from the Gordon Highlanders. There was also an R.A.S.C camp just across the road from the B.M.H, they were always busy with their ambulances and personnel carriers etc. There must have been a R.E.M.E. workshops there somewhere.

The window close to my bed in the ward over looked a valley and on the side of this valley was a Convent and apparently during World War 2 the Japanese used this as an officer’s mess and gave the Nuns a rough time. Just below the Convent was a white marble statue, apparently this was put there in memory of a Nun that had been raped and murdered by Japanese officers during their stay.

B.M.H. Cameron Highlands with the Convent on the hill behind.

The R.A.S.C. camp across the road from the B.M.H. Cameron Highlands.

B.M.H. Cameron Highlands. The red X marks the spot where my ward was.

It was rumoured that at night, after lights out, this Nun could sometimes be seen walking through the ward like a white ghostly shadow, I must admit I never saw her, perhaps because I kept my head under the clothes until daylight [all this is true honest].

Sadly my stay at the B.M.H. Cameron Highlands came to an end and I was being returned to my unit in Johore Baru. The return journey back to R.A.F Ipoh was a lot better, I was fitter now and it was during daylight. The views across the mountains and dense jungle areas below as we descended down the twisting hairpin bends were fantastic. The local native people lived in the roadside villages called Kampongs, their houses were built of wood perched on top of poles with palm leaves as a roof. They would wave to us as we went past. There were some areas that had been cleared of undergrowth with large Tudor style houses set in the hillside with posh gardens and lawns. These were where the British rubber plantation owners lived and they were under constant threat by the terrorists in this area. It was near here in a place called Frazer’s Hill that the then British Governor Mr Gurney was killed when his car was ambushed in 1950. His place was taken over by General Templer, he soon got things going to sort out the terrorists. We arrived safely at R.A.F Ipoh thanks to the skilful driving of the R.A.S.C drivers and our Infantry escort and were soon on our way to Singapore.

I was transported to my unit in Johore Baru and reported for duty the following day. Our C/O Capt Balsam and all my mates welcomed me back.

Published: 1st November 2007

Chapter Fourteen.