POETRY: IN HONOUR OF THE IBAN WARRIORS
(In honour of the fallen Iban Trackers and Sarawak Rangers who had sacrificed their lives in the Insurgency War in Malaya from 1948 to 1960)
O Ye men of war!
Your name will live forever.
To you, courage was a virtue.
We are forever indebted to you.
You seek the path of danger.
Where death lurked spewing fear.
Behind every nooks, lurking.
Waiting to sever life’s string.
O Ye warrior most noble.
The bravest and most able.
Strength unparalleled and mind of steel.
Matched by swords tempered to kill.
Protected by the spirits and gods of war.
You marched forward without fear.
Firm in the belief you were right.
On you, weapons of evil have no might.
In battle, withdrawal was a weakness.
Come what may, march forward, nevertheless.
Your beliefs were your strength and victory.
We pray there are many more with your tenacity.
After 60 long years seemingly eternity.
You are coming home, finally.
By your deeds you had sown the seeds
For the world to know your courageous feats.
Rest thee well O noble warriors.
You had set a tradition most precious.
A legacy that your generations must live by.
A tenet of life that mustn’t die.
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Monday, 27 June 2011
The Wrath
The Wrath
(My Company was given a mission to search and destroy any CTs in an area in the Ulu Kinta Forest Reserve. The terrain was rocky and mountainous. One evening, I made an overnight ambush on a rocky moutain range. Being on the highest point, I was inviting danger - not from the CTs but from nature itself ).
Atop a rugged mountain range.
We strung out in ambush.
And waited for the enemy.
A cobra recoiled - deadly.
A spider, waiting for the slightest vibration
to sink its fangs and inject the poison.
Came nightfall, the weather declined.
Rain poured in torrents wild.
Lightning flashes blinding.
Thunder claps deafening.
No sign of abatement.
Our tents our prisons.
Perched high on rocky ground.
Opened to dangers abound.
Cascading waterfalls,
Thunder and fire balls.
I cringed with worry – intuition.
A while later, calls of desperation
from the nearest ambush position.
Dismayed that my fear confirmed.
Struck by lightning!
Four soldiers took refuge under a tree.
Three injured slightly, one seriously.
Four claymore mines blown off instantly.
Next day a winching point we looked.
Atop the mountain spooked.
To evacuate the injured soldier
to Base and recover.
Knowing the futility of our ambush,
the danger in the lightning strikes zone,
we moved to lower ground less prone.
God must have been angry.
That man should kill man - fiery.
That man should choose to disobey.
The price he’ll surely pay.
Instantaneous or delay.
Think – pray!
(My Company was given a mission to search and destroy any CTs in an area in the Ulu Kinta Forest Reserve. The terrain was rocky and mountainous. One evening, I made an overnight ambush on a rocky moutain range. Being on the highest point, I was inviting danger - not from the CTs but from nature itself ).
Atop a rugged mountain range.
We strung out in ambush.
And waited for the enemy.
A cobra recoiled - deadly.
A spider, waiting for the slightest vibration
to sink its fangs and inject the poison.
Came nightfall, the weather declined.
Rain poured in torrents wild.
Lightning flashes blinding.
Thunder claps deafening.
No sign of abatement.
Our tents our prisons.
Perched high on rocky ground.
Opened to dangers abound.
Cascading waterfalls,
Thunder and fire balls.
I cringed with worry – intuition.
A while later, calls of desperation
from the nearest ambush position.
Dismayed that my fear confirmed.
Struck by lightning!
Four soldiers took refuge under a tree.
Three injured slightly, one seriously.
Four claymore mines blown off instantly.
Next day a winching point we looked.
Atop the mountain spooked.
To evacuate the injured soldier
to Base and recover.
Knowing the futility of our ambush,
the danger in the lightning strikes zone,
we moved to lower ground less prone.
God must have been angry.
That man should kill man - fiery.
That man should choose to disobey.
The price he’ll surely pay.
Instantaneous or delay.
Think – pray!
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
The Crimson Sunset of Tanjong.
The crimson sunset of Tanjong.
The brilliant orange sun, kiss the horizon.
A duty it loyally performs daily since the beginning of time.
In a showmanship of pride,
It paints the sky crimson bright.
Spilling the colours on our darkening homeland.
A majestic sentinel stands on the cliff.
It's piercing, rotating beacon visible for miles,
sending out warnings to ships of submerge dangers.
A curse to careless mariners.
I once shuddered at the old belief that crimson sunset
was indication of a raging war where blood spilled like water.
For Tanjongers, 'twas a reminder of our home dear.
Today, however, any sight of a crimson sunset
is a nostalgic reminder of our Tanjong days we wouldn't forget.
The brilliant orange sun, kiss the horizon.
A duty it loyally performs daily since the beginning of time.
In a showmanship of pride,
It paints the sky crimson bright.
Spilling the colours on our darkening homeland.
A majestic sentinel stands on the cliff.
It's piercing, rotating beacon visible for miles,
sending out warnings to ships of submerge dangers.
A curse to careless mariners.
I once shuddered at the old belief that crimson sunset
was indication of a raging war where blood spilled like water.
For Tanjongers, 'twas a reminder of our home dear.
Today, however, any sight of a crimson sunset
is a nostalgic reminder of our Tanjong days we wouldn't forget.
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