8 Miraculous Months in the Malayan Jungle by Humphrey II Donald J. "DJ

Author:Humphrey II, Donald J. "DJ
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DJH INC
Published: 2021-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Third Regiment Headquarters

Four days later, Duff was strong enough to travel. On March 16th, after our month-long stay at this middle post, we started our trek to the Third Regiment Headquarters. Woo-Ping did not come out of his basha to say goodbye, and we did not go to Woo-Ping’s basha to say goodbye. We despised the man because he was an arrogant, selfish, cruel dictator and not a respectable commander. For us, it was good riddance.

As we readied to leave, English Tom and many guerrillas from the Regiment clustered around our basha. They gave us some Japanese money and cigarettes as farewell gifts. All of us shouldered our equipment and lumbered off into the bush once again.

Woo-Ping assigned us a Chinese Communist guide named Chang and two Chinese guerrilla guards named Na Tom and Sung Fu, who carried rifles. Our trip would be one of the most grueling ordeals we had ever experienced.

Our lead guide, Chang, was a friendly, clean-cut, educated Chinese who spoke decent English. Na Tom was a very skinny Chinese with a large bucktooth, and he hated white men. We later named him Speedy because he always walked so fast. And Sung Fu, our bearer of equipment, was a filthy Chinese man who had a skin disease with ugly seeping sores.

It was now March 16th. The first day of this trek gave us an idea of what was in store for us for the next several days’ journey to the Third Regiment Headquarters. First, we took two sampans across part of Tasek Bera. Then we walked for two hours in heavy rain through swampland with waist-high and sometimes neck-high water. We walked another four hours, slipping on the muddy trails through the thick jungle.

We reached a small two-basha Chinese outpost late that evening where we stayed for the night. After burning the leeches off each other, we tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes were buzzing in our ears. Their continued bites all night made it difficult to sleep. We later learned the Chinese established many small outposts like this one, scattered throughout the Malayan jungle. They used them for layovers for their runner communication system.

The second morning, Duff and I both woke up and could not see because of swollen eyes from mosquito and spider bites. The semi-cool water from a nearby stream helped enough with the swelling so we could see again. As we pushed on, Duff was holding up well, and for now, his fever had subsided. He could keep up a regular pace with the rest of us. For the next few days, the rain never stopped. We scraped our way through bamboo and waded through marshlands and mud. Leeches covered our bodies from head to toe at the end of each day.

On March 22nd, we reached another small outpost where a Malay native sold pigs. That night, Chang purchased the side of a pig and cooked us a wonderful hot Chinese meal. We spent the rest of the night and the following day resting.

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