Representative Image

It was a small town, you could walk there. The Engineers camp was large, overlooking a military airfield. It was an old British Army Camp of the Royal Engineers. 

In the camp was a pond which they called a “dam”, it was used for waterman ship, training with assault boats and outboard motors. Beyond the dam were other training grounds for bridging, demolitions and for all the stuff that combat engineers do.

We were trained at waterman ship, demolitions, booby traps, (improvised explosive devices), improvised bridging, bridging, construction of landing points, laying of minefields, clearing minefields, river crossing, water supply and anything and everything to do with the field engineers.

Whilst on this course I realized that I would never be able to live a normal life and raise a family. One of my friends invited me for lunch at his house on a weekend. I dressed up and started walking; the area where he lived was a squatter area. He had two kids, he and I earned the same amount, I always wondered how on earth he could maintain his wife and kids. That was the cheapest housing he could afford.

It was a wooden “shed” made out of planks, rejected by the sawmills. It was basic, wooden walls and a zinc roof. The flooring was tamped earth, clean though. The hall too acted as the bedroom. No furniture, he had laid out mats for us to sit and dine on. I bought some fruits and candies for the kids and handed over to one of them.

There was rice, prawn paste (belacan), raw vegetables gathered, blanched in hot water, soybean cakes (tempeh) and one big fat pomfret fish (bawal) in green coconut gravy. I asked my friend whether the kids had eaten. He told me that they would eat later. Whilst I was eating the kids were peering from a partition separating the kitchen. They were all smiles and staring at the food.

Deep in my heart, I knew that it was a mistake to accept that lunch invitation. They had barely enough for themselves, here I made myself a burden to them. I ate as little as politely possible. 

The food was delicious though. I thanked his wife, who complained that I ate very little, I complimented her on the food and told her that I was bloated and that had stuffed myself. Soon I took my leave, before I left, I gave each kid $2, that was in 1973. As I was walking back, I made up my mind never to get married, so that I will not force someone’s daughter in a hovel!!

We were being fucked then and now as veterans are still being fucked over by the politicians, now that the insurgency is long over.

After passing that course we had the right to be known as sappers, it meant instead of being addressed as privates we were called Sapper so and so. The course made us proficient in improvised bridging, mine warfare and demolitions, water supply and the most important subject, booby traps and improvised explosive devices. Construction too was taught. The basics of many subjects were thought.