Rudyard Kipling"
“When you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldier”
General Douglas MacArthur"
“We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.”
“It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.” “Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.
“The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
“May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .” “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
“Nobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
To day I would like to share a little story about an 86 year old Punjabi Sikh by the name of Bishen Singh whom I knew as a little boy. He worked as a watchman (Jaga) at the Yin Woh sawmill in Sempalit Raub, owned by a rich Chinese Towkay. In the earlier days apparently people always referred to you by the trade (job) you did and Bishen as a young man sold suger cane juce. Hence he was called the ' Tebu Bai' by the Malays, 'kambu Bai' ( suger cane Bai) by the Indians and his own Punjabi community called him 'Raswalla Pahai' (Suger cane Juice Brother)
Bishen had long moved on from being a 'Tebu Bai' to a successful and fairly rich money lender but still kept his job as a night watchman at the sawmill . He lived in Bukit Koman and would cycle to his work place in Sempalit, cycling a total of 6 miles every day without fail even at the age of 85. Probably it was this routine that kept him fit at this ripe old age.I asked him one day why was he still working at his age and he told me that his boss the mill owner had actually terminated his service due to his advance age some 20 years ago.
However being a kindly man who rewarded loyalty he had offered him to come when ever he could to the mill to keep the new younger Indian Jaga company for which he would continue to receive half his original pay which came to RM 250. Bishen
no longer needed the money but some how having worked at the mill for almost 50 years he just could not give up the environment and the routine.
Bishen also had a great sense of humor.One day I asked him why after having lost all his teeth did not want to have dentures fitted. He laughed exposing his toothless gums partly hidden by his heavy facial hair, saying he did not have much time left
and being an active member of the Sikh Temple he would hopefully have one fitted free in the hereafter.One fine day the mill owner who lived close to my family home died suddenly of a heart attack at age 62 and there were elaborate funeral arrangements underway. Being on leave then I too went to pay my respects.
There amongst the large crowd I saw a forlorn looking Bishen Singh.
When he saw me he nodded his head to called me aside and pointed to all death memorabilia like the paper models of a swimming pool, a huge bungalow with 3 Mercedes Benz cars parked in the porch, TV sets, Piano, Hell money, and all the other goodies that only the very rich can afford. All these would later be burnt as the Chinese believe the dead will rise in the next World to enjoy all these goodies.
Bishen then drew my attention to the paper bungalow and said "do you notice there are two beaded figures wearing turbans and holding drawn sabers, with two dogs at their entrance of the paper bungalow." Bishen continued, saying "one must be me and the other must have been put there for good measure."
Turning again to me said " You see I have worked for this Chinese Towkay for more than 50 years and now the family wants me to continue being his Jaga in the next World." Then with a show of mock anger and waving his palm he said " No! No! I am not doing it, 50 years as a jaga in this World is enough no more jaga work in the next World for me." I nodded in agreement which pleased him. Bishen (bless his soul) passed away some seven years years after this episode.
Now what made me write this story?
Well I was reading about news on Singapore on the internet and there was this article about the governments decision to exhume the old graves at Bukit Brown cemetery to make way for a new Highway.My attention was drawn to the pix below of two Sikh guards, guarding the grave, which reminded me of Bishen Singhs words, I could almost 'swear' I heard the old boy saying......." No! No! I am not doing it, 50 years as a jaga in this World is enough no more jaga work in the next World for me.By Lieutenant Colonel (Rtd) Idris Hassan. Ps. Bishen Singh's only son Sgt Ranjit served under me when I was the Deputy Commandant Camp Mindef in 1981.
