The orchid collector must take a journey of at least two days into the heart of the forest to get his plants...The track into the forest is miserably bad, and to reach the plants is even dangerous.
-Albert Millican
KOREA
From the bleak and hardened ground to the west stretched the incredible topography of Korea’s knobby hills and sharp ridges. Known formally by their elevations, many of these peaks and spines were known by names given out of affection, humor or spite. Two particular masses sloped into a valley that broadened into an expanse about half a mile wide, broken only by a frozen river cutting across the center straight to the base of the hills on the right before curving back into the plain and winding north. A dry winter and months of shelling left little of interest among the dirt and clay void and only the most stubborn trees and shrubs remained clinging to receding line of vegetation on the pulverized hilltops. On the left of the shallow pass between the hills rose a few ridges that formed the Hook, known intimately by anyone who had stood within a few thousand yards of its beaten slopes. It was just barely visible from a small round knob of a hill in the village of Yongdong Po.
It had been about a month since the Black Watch contested the Chinese for possession of the Hook – enough time for those coming off the line to rest and provide training to those just arriving in country. Yongdong was a place where a man could take his boots off at night, but was still within some proximity to the front where he could become familiar with the combat environment. The occupants of the reserve point made an effort to add some civility to their existence by constructing humble paths and signage with names of towns and cities from home. The surrounding buildings were primitive types with thatched roofs and mud walls, similar to some of the wattle and daub homes from medieval times.
A vibrant and youthful lieutenant leaned on his hooked walking stick, a traditional symbol of leadership – and punishment, if needed – that accentuated his status as an officer and a gentleman. Despite his class and professional attitude, he had a tendency to be mischievous that was expected at age twenty-five, but it was a quality he would carry through his long career. He was rather cool while leaning on his ash cane with a pistol on one hip and his fist resting on the other. Lieutenant John Durbin arrived in Korea to replace one of the platoon commanders victim to the Chinese storm on steep flanks of the Hook, the bloody feature that claimed more British lives than any other single battlefield in Korea.
The Lieutenant’s introduction to Korea did not quite prepare him for what lay ahead. All he had seen during the winter weeks that had passed were the impoverished people and barren country coated with a layer of snow that masked the damage done during the previous two years of fighting. Further obscuring the war zone that Durbin was now a part of was that he greeted the Black Watch during their Christmas celebrations. The members of the regiment eagerly accepted Durbin into their lives during the merry season. Every man enjoyed a bottle of Scottish whiskey or rum and tea – perhaps more if they received gifts from home or otherwise procured spirits. To heighten their joy, the brigade commander rescinded orders to put the battalion back on the line by New Years, and they all knew there was at least another week of relative comfort.
*
In the first days of January when they returned to the Hook, many men of the Black Watch were already seasoned from their November combat. The mixture of regulars and National Service draftees of B Company’s 6 Platoon welcomed their new platoon commander, Lieutenant Durbin, along with an influx of recovering wounded and new replacements. Their arrival on the line began with the discovery of notes left on the wire by the Chinese: “Welcome back, Black Watch.”. The battalion blamed their porters, who were typically good and honest workers, but easy cover for a sneaky Chinese infiltrator.
Seeing the area closely for the first time, John had a visceral image of what his forefathers’ war was like thirty-five years prior. The Hook was a series of blighted ridges laced with sandbagged trenches and rat infested hoochies. The strategic peaks – Hill 121 on the left forward, Warsaw on the right, the Hook proper in the center and the Sausage leading back to Hill 146 - were constantly under fire from enemy artillery. Along the perimeter of the lines, barbed wire and telephone line was strung between iron pickets pounded into the ground that had been softened by both Chinese artillery and American air supremacy. The supply route leading up the back of the hill was a favorite target of the Chinese, as was the Black Watch Command Post, but the area 6 Platoon was posted to was generally quiet. Most of the bangs came from the neighboring cannons of the 1st Royal Tanks and the Chinese propaganda broadcasts from a loudspeaker across the valley. The American 38th Infantry Regiment broadcasted their own retorts from the Black Watch’s flank.
The American Marines that had originally held the hill with their shallow two-foot-deep trenches had relied on air power to push the Chinese back continually. They would pull off the hill just before their positions were overrun, pound the hill from the air to annihilate the Chinese, and return to their posts. When the Black Watch took over in November, the Americans were astounded to hear that they intended to hold the ridge solely as infantryman with just artillery support and grim determination. By January, the positions had deteriorated again on taking over from the King’s Regiment who left quite a bit of trash and sooty dug outs from use of diesel oil in wicked tins. Long hours of digging and chipping into the frozen ground ensued.
The sounds of shelling occurred every night, some landing nearer than others. Between that and freezing temperatures, patrols became a desirable activity. Recce patrols were sent from all companies to both familiarize with the terrain and each other as well as to determine enemy positions and activity. The men had adequate winter clothing, but the air was so bitterly cold that after being hunkered down for hours the winter temperatures penetrated to their bones. Journeying out into the valley provided an escape from the shells targeting their trenches and enough exercise to get one’s blood flowing enough to think feeling might be returning to fingers and toes.
At the end of January, B Company handed over to the French Battalion and moved back into reserve for a two-month period. John was whisked away to Division Battle School at Hara Mura, Japan. Units in theater were asked to send men to serve on the staff at the school, but there was no motivation to offer their best veterans. Instead, inexperienced men like John who had only a few weeks of service on the front were often sent to instruct. Courses were focused on exercises in the hills between Hara Mura and Kure, mostly frequently long route marches along the 20-mile stretch between the two cities. By the end of the grueling period in Japan, Durbin was in excellent shape and yearned to return to combat with the Watch.
*
Spring brought hard rains among warming weather that encouraged the Chinese offensives. On April 8th, the Watch took over the Hook for a third time and were greeted by a multitude of shells and the indecipherable female voice projecting from the enemy propaganda machine. Across the valley, purple azaleas bloomed through the bombed landscape to welcome the refreshing weather.
The most forward position on the left end of the battalion and the entire division was Hill 121, the isolated feature that B Company occupied. Durbin’s 6 Platoon lived on the crest of the hill alongside an outpost of U.S. Marines and a single American who operated a small sound ranging outfit. The Jocks viewed his job as a simple one as it appeared that his only responsibility was to press a button each time a Chinese gun fired. He hardly had to leave his bed to do it.
A few days after taking over the hill, B Company’s area was blasted with over thirty 76mm artillery shells. It began a month of sporadic barrages from mortars, 76mm, and 122mm shells, one of which wounded Lance Corporal McLennan on the afternoon of the 18th. On the first of May another shell wounded fellow platoon commander Second Lieutenant Graham and Corporal Muirhead. Much of the retaliation from B Company came when replying to propaganda machines. When the Chinese stated “We will not shoot tomorrow if you do not shoot today,” the Watch attempted to blast the speakers into oblivion. By the first week of May, patrols and observations revealed an obvious build up and reinforcement by the enemy and all officers and men anticipated a brewing fight.
From eight until eleven on the night of May 8th, it was exceptionally quiet and the humid air hinted of the muggy Korean summers. Over the next few hours, the enemy began poking at the Hook and spotty shelling broke the gentle night from midnight on with a steady amount of noise. B Company was ordered to fire all small arms on known positions across the valley and they began sending bullets down range at phantom targets who triggered trip flares across the battlefield. Moments later about forty Chinese were spotted below the 5 Platoon positions. They scattered when a heavy barrage of artillery, tanks and mortars zeroed on them. John learned later that they planned to raid his own position and destroy the tanks’ searchlights.
Peering over the edges of the trenches revealed the horrifying sight of what appeared to be hundreds of Chinese swarming up the slopes of the Hook. Gunfire and artillery erupted and continued without cessation in an attempt to decimate the masses of Chinese that seemed never to yield, crawling over their own dead to reach the crest of the hill. The topography of the hill made it so that at a certain point just below the trench line the Chinese would disappear from sight completely for a few suspenseful moments before reappearing suddenly right at the top. The members of the Watch had only the men next to them to confide in and rely on and it took their best efforts to simply survive.
Just as the sky was beginning to lighten to a dim grey, a brutal hour of five hundred shells and mortars commenced, targeting Point 121 and the positions of 5 Platoon and 6 Platoon. There was little a man could do during such a barrage, and John forced himself as close to the earth as possible with each impact, gritting his teeth so fiercely that he thought he might grind them away. The largest shells felt as though they lifted his body off the ground completely before slamming back into the dirt just as soon as another impact repeated the abuse. The whole ordeal left much of B Company rattled and attempting to reorient themselves on weak limbs and ringing ears. The relentless Chinese continued to clamber over the wire obstacles and creeped out of a thick veil of smoke on the skyline, silhouetted by the glow of flares and beams of tank searchlights.
As the eastern horizon illuminated in pale twilight, the battle dwindled. A couple of bazooka rounds directed at the tanks in 5 Platoon area seemed to be the final punch from the Chinese as the last rifle cracks echoed and minor artillery missions chased any stubborn enemy from various ridges. In the valleys between the fingers extending from the Hook, the battle’s smoke was taken slowly with the breeze. Beating helicopters arrived and left with wounded and on the other side the Chinese were observed carrying their own casualties away – they were left to their duties and not fired upon as a courtesy. The day passed as men collected equipment and exchanged stories of the battle, some exaggerated and some laced with grim humor. They were spared heavy shelling, but a few rounds did whistle in and cause some disruption. By nighttime, the propaganda loudspeakers were active again: “You only beat off a patrol action last night, but you will have something bigger to deal with in five nights time!” And it was assumed from the repeated verbiage that the Watch had dealt a serious blow to the Chinese.
On the evening of May 13th, after a day of torrential rain, the Black Watch finally left the Hook and exchanged positions with the Dukes who would fight yet another battle in the same trenches two weeks later. They had a brief ten days at Yongdong before ordered back into the fight to support the Dukes from Point 146. The Chinese poked at the Scottish battalion while the Dukes fought them face to face at The Hook. The rest of the month and all of June was spent patrolling and enduring harassing artillery barrages each day until the arrival of the Durham Light Infantry on the evening of July 3rd concluded their Korean tour. While the regiment was bound for Kenya, John was destined to return to the Gordons and in only a few days said goodbye to those who had fought so loyally beside him.
MALAYA
When he returned to the Gordon Highlanders in August 1953, they were in their last months of the regiment’s posting in Malaya. Though he had grown close to the Black Watch, Dubs (as he was known within the Gordons) felt great comfort on reuniting with this old regiment. Only the new soldiers, many of whom were on national service, were not familiar with Durbin’s character. The older hands of the regiment were well aware of his unique tendencies including his tics and stutter, though it seemed that the stress of Korea may have made it worse. Those unfortunate enough to be on orders with him never knew how many days of jail they would suffer as he attempted to sentence them.
“Ssss-seee,” the number escaped him. “Fuck it! Fourteen d-d-days R.P.'s!”
A bewildered Jock awaited the rest of his fine patiently.
“Fffffffff…fine you…fffffff…,” again Durbin struggled to produce a delivery.
“Five pounds, Sir?” suggested the poor lad on orders.
“No! Fffff-fucking fifteen for your cheek!”
If a soldier did not have a good excuse ready when up on orders, they were swiftly marched out of his office and told to make one up before going back in, but it had to be good. Durbin began to keep two books – one of old excuses, and one of new ones. If a Jock’s excuse was already recorded in the ‘Heard It’ book, he was in trouble, but if it was original, Durbin noted it in his ‘New’ book and his punishment was far less severe.
Due to a brief period of service with the R.A.C. and R.A.S.C., Durbin was aptly assigned command of the MT platoon which cared for all unit vehicles. The platoon maintained them mechanically and cosmetically in order to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice. The consistent work meant the Jocks of the platoon were never bored and it was excellent duty for Durbin to exercise his stiff hand when needed. The quarters at the motor park were set in an open square in Tampin and, despite discomforts of the jungle, was very enjoyable compared to the primitive trenches and makeshift barracks in Korea.
Tactical missions tended to be frustrating and often left the men chasing poor intelligence or simply following tracks in the jungle. The terrain in this area was extremely formidable and only made worse by searing heat or tropical rain, a multitude of pests, and other dangers. Though progress was slow, the battalion did make contact with the enemy and destroy their camps several times, but they had to respond to intelligence with the greatest speed if they wished to confront any terrorists.
An impending visit from the Central Inspectorate of Vehicles team increased the duties for the MT Platoon. Work in September and October peaked during a feverish fourteen-day period where the motor transport personnel were excused of all extraneous duties to prepare for the five-day inspection. For twelve hours each day beginning at seven in the morning, Lieutenant Durbin ran the operation fiercely, effectively discouraging any man from being caught sitting idle in the cab of his vehicle. The section passed the grueling inspection and even received a congratulatory letter from Commander in Chief FARELF for the excellent condition of all vehicles, documents, and hard work of all NCOs and drivers. This reinforced (or greatly inflated) the pride the unit had in what they considered to be the best MT section in the country, and John’s promotion to captain added further dignity to the platoon.
When fueled with mischief, especially after boozy Officers’ Mess functions, he was not always a strict professional. One exploit notable enough to be documented in the regimental journal was the result of one such instance. With the help of Lieutenant Murray, they managed to manhandle Durbin’s Austin Ruby onto the roof of the Motor Transport Officer’s office. He posed for a photo proudly leaning against the car. It was published with the caption “How Did That Get There?” and no further explanation needed.
CYPRUS
A year and a half worth of ceremonial duties followed the Gordons’ return from Malaya and for the period, Dubs was posted as commander of D Company. As the ‘holding’ company, it was frequently tasked with all things parade and ceremonial including two Guards of Honour. At the end of August 1955, Durbin left the Regular Army for the Reserves and departed for Australia. Per the Tiger & Sphinx: ‘he disappeared one morning with the expected dramatic exit.’ When he returned, he resumed his regular commission after the Gordons had been called upon to tackle the terrorist threat in Cyprus. By the end of the Second World War, it was evident that Greece held little interest in working with the British to unify Cyprus and continued to fuel support for independence over the next decade. It became another hot spot in the post war scramble to protect the Crown.
Joining the regiment months later in July 1956, Durbin filled the role of battalion intelligence officer. His new job in Headquarters Company was a demanding position in the nature of conflict they faced against the EOKA terrorists. He found the island rather pleasant, both in nature and inhabitants. Any hint of violence seemed far away after the near defeat of the EOKA between June and July. The Turkish of the area were incredibly kind and welcoming, offering hospitality in their villages blooming with the aroma of coffee, overripe fruit and donkeys. The remote Greek villages were similarly warm if they were remote enough to not care about politics. Otherwise, it was only the Greeks who wanted to rid the island of British rule whose villages were potentially hostile.
After moving inland from the copper laden coast, Battalion Headquarters occupied the Troodos’ huge pine forests that dominated the mountains on the western half of the island. These rugged woods across sharp terrain provided excellent hiding spots for rebels. The Gordons countered with road and coastal patrols, detachments at police posts, establishing road blocks, and searching suspicious individuals, vehicles, and homes. Many of the houses they entered were of rustic construction of raw timber, stone or dirt floors, and handmade furniture. By the summer of 1956, the Gordons were well versed on these methods of counter terrorism. Unrest had grown since their arrival the previous year and was more obvious when the Gordons faced bomb threats almost daily. Homemade weapons, supplies, and other contraband was confiscated on raids that became routine and ultimately it was decreed that all shotguns and service rifles were to be turned in and the Gordons were tasked with enforcing this order. They resorted to cordoning and searching entire townships.
August, September and October were reasonably quiet in Platres, the popular village that Headquarters was stationed in. It was an old Greek village dating to the 12th Century and overflowing with grape vines. Until the emergency, lower Platres was typically a tourist attraction with lodging, shops and cafés. It was a very pleasant posting that offered plenty of recreational activities when not consumed with patrols and information gathering. After those few months, the EOKA began to recover from their retreat at the beginning of the summer and the island once again bristled with terrorist activity, tragically with the murder of Dr. Charles Bevan in early November. The same day, a significant raid was what John kept in his notes as the ‘Rape of Polystipos’ where, despite the obvious discovery of contraband, he could not ignore the ruined homes and broken hearts of the humble inhabitants. The raid incurred £5,000 in damages, but yielded the discovery of and capture of a village group of rebels, half a ton of dynamite, five shotguns, and a wanted man with a bounty on his head.
John’s Mediterranean service closed just a few days before Christmas 1956 when the Gordon Highlanders sailed from the island back to Edinburgh. The revolt on Cyprus had not dwindled, but reflecting on the operation they found the populace generally appreciated the British presence despite the aggressive occupation. It was the speculative ten percent – the hardcore fighters vehemently opposing the enforced peace – that continued to resist peace by means other than violence. The Gordon Highlanders did their best to combat the EOKA’s bloody methods of patriotism and departed with a sense of accomplishment for their positive impact on the peaceful Greeks and the Turks.
EAST AFRICA
After the three-week journey by ship to East Africa, the Gordons arrived at Gilgil Garrison, a lovely green and fertile place outside of Nairobi, Kenya. The battalion was training and participating in field exercises when the Major joined from Singapore where he had been for the past two years as GSO3 with the Singapore Base District. With the absence of any fierce action, Durbin concocted his own excitement when he joyfully blew up a particular wedding reception with thunderflash grenades. He had a penchant for such pranks, another involving a hand grenade in a guardroom, but those details were not as well known throughout the regiment.
It was not out of the question to wonder whether or not he had a certificate proving his sanity, especially following the 1958 Nijmegen marches. Dubs volunteered his HQ Company for the event, even pulling men serving time in jail to get them some freedom even if was for hard physical activity. While marching on the autobahn, he was struck by a Volkswagen Beetle and furiously tried to beat it to death a with his walking stick. He fared better in the altercation than years later in Minden when he was struck by a scout car, breaking his leg, but continuing the three-mile march to the objective leading his company.
The looming threat in Swaziland flared on June 10, 1963 when political activists organized a scratch army numbering around 3,000 to march into the capital of Mbabane, intending to besiege the Resident Commissioner. The local police, equipped with steel helmets, batons, and whicker shields, could not prevent this and the Gordons received their assignment to move to the capital. Two days later they left Nairobi for Mbabane. Though the entire countryside was not rampant with terrorism, there were enough gangs of armed men and boys to intimidate local authorities and reduce morale to such a point that outside intervention was absolutely necessary to prevent such lawlessness from the strikers. It was also the Gordons’ responsibility to then raise morale and efficiency of the police to prevent the situation from developing again upon the ultimate withdrawal of the battalion.
As D Company commander, Major Durbin arrived at the airstrip on June 15th and quickly moved twenty-five miles east of Mbabane to the Teachers Training College at Manzini. The battalion executed their first night operation with great care and complete force. In the cold morning air, the battalion moved from Mbabane along narrow roads that snaked 6,000 feet up the mountains to an area called Piggs Peak. At three miles from their destination - a mine home for the rebels - the men of the Gordons left their vehicles and crept up to the mine in tennis shoes. The strikers had no chance as they surrounded the area and local police moved in to arrest the leaders. By that afternoon, the mine had returned to normal operation.
The next target on June 18th were sugar plantations around the Big Bend. This operation and the results were just the same as the first night action – B and D Company to surround the rebels quietly in the night and let the police arrest the ringleaders at daybreak in order to separate the intimidators from the intimidated. The biggest issue for D Company was when Durbin led them to the wrong road junction to wait for the convoy, but within about four hours of their initial departure they had arrived at the Big Bend Police Station where both company commanders met with the local captain. Before noon a total of 1087 suspects were held for screening with the aid of an informer disguised by a white hood. D Company thinned out by noon, leaving B Company to oversee the 62 arrested of which only twelve were actually charged. The next day all was quiet and workers had resumed with their normal routine.
On June 20th, Major Durbin met with the Prison Authorities to inspect the Malkerns and Mawelawela detention camps where he planned on posting men from D Company as guard duty, which they assumed the next day while other members of the company carried out a goodwill tour in the Peebles area. By June 23d after much success since arriving, D Company found itself assigned to its own district of responsibility covering Stegi and Manzini where they created and maintained roadblocks through the rest of the month and the entirety of July.
One of the most difficult tasks for the month was combating propaganda. Rumors were floating around that the 1st Gordons had just come from slaughtering Mau Mau in Kenya and they were about to do the same in Swaziland. To settle the unease of the Swazis, the Gordons provided entertainment with their pipes and performed a number of goodwill operations for the people. Some of the road blocks they enforced were also more to please the locals and the television cameras. An unplanned show of kindness occurred when two corporals of the Gordons selflessly gave blood to save a Swazi farmer. By the end of the month, the attitude between the Swazis and the Gordons was very cordial and it was clear that the propaganda was nothing but nonsense the strike leaders fabricated.
After two months in Swaziland, the Gordons had carried out five operations and made 673 arrests. They were flawlessly successful and efficient and showcased the top-notch training and vindication for the post-war fire-brigades. The battalion began its move back to Kenya while D Company continued to escort prisoners and enforce road blocks in order to catch cattle rustlers. When it was time to depart Swaziland on August 6th, the farewell parade was presented by the Pipes and Drums and two companies of the Gordons under command of Major Durbin. The battalion was presented with a set of Swazi shields, spears and axes among words of gratification and appreciation.
Later that year, both Kenya and Zanzibar achieved independence in December 1963. The people of Zanzibar had especially requested the Gordons to be part of their ceremonies and parade after the people developed an appreciation for the regiment during their rotational tours. Their stay in December was rather recreational, filling their time outside of ceremonial duties with swimming, shopping, eating and drinking. Despite the celebrations, insurrection broke out during January. Dubs had taken his holiday leave to Zanzibar and the revolutionaries ‘had the decency to wait’ until the day after he left. D Company bolstered by a fourth platoon from B Company were immediately placed on eight hours’ notice for ‘destinations unknown.’
Their action came on January 20th and in a frenzied but organized move, the company was flying to Mombasa where they were to embark on the HMS Owen sea for Dar es Salaam. After a briefing from the Brigade Commander, Major Durbin set to writing out operation orders during the brief flight. While the HMS Owen patrolled between the coast and Zanzibar, Durbin stayed furiously busy meeting with the senior Naval officer on the HMS Rhyl to organize amphibious plans.
Embarking and landing drills, bathing parties off the reefs, and daily rum ration filled the days of the next week on board the Owen. An exciting tease of linking up with 45 Commando for an operation was cancelled and the Gordons returned to Mombasa where they expected more trouble but found none. Three weeks of security duties followed, predominantly guarding VPs and conducting foot and vehicle patrols.
After about a month of these operations, Dub’s D Company returned to Gilgil only to be called upon again within a week. Whisked off to the coast once again, Major Durbin received a detailed briefing in Nairobi ‘whilst avoiding a leaking roof, the tea trolley, beggars, vendors of smutty literature and other diversions, whilst yet maintaining the strictest security,’ though the editor of the Tiger & Sphinx seemed to question the latter. The suspected operation never came to be and instead ‘some little time was spent in the ancient sport of bat shooting. This was instigated and modernised by the Company Commander [Durbin] who stated that whilst he did not mind minor evacuations by bats during Company Orders he drew a line at the complete morning ablutions of the bat colony descending on him from a great height.’
Throughout their constant alerts and movements, the company did their best to pack and prepare for movement back to the United Kingdom at the end of March. The thrilling and exotic continent left behind made Redford Barracks even less desirable than ever.
BORNEO
A quiet year passed in Edinburgh until mid-November 1964. In the late night of Friday the 13th, the advanced party of the regiment took off from London Airport. Within 24 hours they were in Singapore. The Recce party, led by the Commanding Officer along with Durbin (D Company commander), Charlie Michie (quartermaster), and Christopher Van Der Noot (intelligence officer), represented the thirteenth battalion to arrive in the Far East. The British regiments all sought to combat the revolution that stemmed from Indonesia's President Sukarno’s opposition to the creation of the Federation of Malaysia, which he felt was the British attempt to maintain colonial rule over territories in south-east Asia.
After a terrifying journey by road from Jessleton, the advanced party arrived at the ironically but aptly named Paradise Camp in Kota Belud. He held some responsibility for the existence of the camp, created while he was on the staff of Singapore Base District, but was wholly responsible for naming the establishment. Despite the nearly dilapidated construction, it was a rather pleasant place in a green fertile valley at the base of the Kina Balu mountain. The rest of the battalion arrived within the next month, quickly adjusted to the hot climate, and trained daily to master jungle warfare. There was little to do outside of this training and the meals provided by their Char-Wallah, Peter, were well appreciated.
When demonstrating abseiling from helicopters, Durbin became one of the few minor casualties of the period when he slid down the rope and was violently jerked so that his descent was much more rapid than planned. The officer guiding the chopper signaled for the chopper to rise even though the Major had just begun his descent. The sudden movement caused Dubs to lose his grip and he plummeted at least thirty feet to the ground, skinning his hands and fingers so terribly that he needed to go to Singapore for treatment. The event became part of regimental lore and was embellished to include two broken legs, but regrowing his hands was the extent of his recovery. He managed to return quickly and reclaim his company from his second in command in time to celebrate his birthday.
At the end of April, D Company moved by helicopter to Serudong Laut, dropping directly into their new area of operation. Surrounded by marshes, lagoons, rivers and other waterways, the valley was secluded and the most forward operational area of the battalion. The company established a few camps during their stay. Initially, they were rather miserable with hardly any accommodations for comfort aside from shade from the sun offered by the jungle canopy. Drinking water, for example, came only from fresh rains or others had to be chlorinated. Hygiene was questionable and the unsophisticated life was generally viewed to be a rather rotten.
The dangers of coconut season necessitated the wear of steel helmets to prevent casualties until Durbin radioed the quartermaster at headquarters asking for a Belock, a tree climbing monkey that would pull the coconuts down on order. There was considerable confusion about what a Belock actually was and it transpired that such a creature was not to be found, so the Gordons ultimately enlisted a local to climb the tall, spindly trees and knock the coconuts down.
They managed to transform their dwellings throughout their stay, using the morning hours around camp to maintain the existing ones and construct two more. Major Durbin and Sergeant Carruthers were most enthusiastic about the creation of these additional sites and oversaw the ideation, planning and completion. In three and a half months, the Jocks built a wonderful headquarters camp cleanly leveled with gravel and adorned with Morning Glory, Hibiscus and Roses. They enjoyed better housing, a canteen, cookhouse, dining hall, and lavatory facilities. There work was not limited to comforts – they also worked to improve defenses, including new gun pits and mortar pits, sentry towers, and covered stand-to positions. On the logistical end, they also upgraded the signal center, operations room and company office. The company members swelled with pride when senior officers of the Malaysian Engineers complimented their work in astonishment that it was done in such a brief time by regular Jocks and not members of the Engineers or civilians.
After the mornings of labor and relaxing in the afternoons, the arrival of darkness initiated patrolling that could last only a few days or up to over a week. While half of the company stayed at headquarters, the other half crossed the river toward the foreboding jungle. Most often they made the crossing in assault boats, but occasionally it was necessary to swim across which accelerated how saturated the patrol became if it was not already raining. They would depart from the jetty, passing underneath the ‘Unload Weapons Here’ sign and putter off across the river into the unknown. Patrols during the nights were sopping wet in constant rains and the inky blackness was pierced only by sharp flashes of lightning. The Jocks moved extremely slow as to not disturb the birds and other creatures, but if the vegetation was debilitating enough to require hacking through by machete the patrol would have to wait in silence stewing in their own sweat and jungle moisture before proceeding again.
When the half-light that filtered through the canopy after dawn illuminated the forest floor, Dubs searched for orchids. He was more likely to find the rare flower than to find Indonesian troops. As it was chasing the communists in Malaya, the Indonesians were just as cunning and frequently evaded action altogether. Occasionally, a patrol would spot the enemy and open fire only to chase them away into obscurity. Even after months of this, the Gordons maintained their professionalism and morale.
When returning to Saurudong Laut from a patrol one evening, Dubs stepped on to the jetty beneath the sign at the end stating “unload weapons here.”
“What grenades have you got, Fraser?” he asked the soldier next to him.
“A 36 and a white phos grenade,” he replied.
“Give me the 36 grenade.” Dubs requested the more explosive of the two. He motioned at two Dhobi Wallahs about 20 yards down river who were quietly swimming and having a wash. “Watch these two break the hundred-yard record!”
With a devious smile, he pulled the pin and shouted to the swimmers to get their attention. They hardly had to time to process that he was waving a grenade at them when he chucked it in their direction. They made it away unscathed and likely breaking the record for the hundred yards. “Mad Dubs” was a nickname well-earned and well deserved.
The jetty was a popular place of action. An aptly named Jock, Cyril Nut, was on guard at the same jetty one night. A thick mist that hung over the river obscured the end of the dock and milky shadows appeared to be a sneaking terrorist. Thinking he had spotted malicious movement, Cyril opened fire and the company quickly stood to. Durbin dashed out to where he was on guard.
“Cyril! What are you firing at?”
“I thought I saw someone at the end of the jetty!” he said excitedly.
“You were firing at the unload sign, and what’s worse, you missed at twenty-five feet!” The next time Cyril was on guard duty, Dubs presented him with a cookhouse ladle. “You might do more damage with this as your shooting is rubbish.”
*
Near the end of July, A Company relieved Durbin’s D Company of their beloved camps and their arduous patrolling ceased. They transitioned back to the more relaxing lifestyle as it was before deployment to the Serudong valley. Though their days then filled with training, it was a welcome rest after months buried in the jungle.
In mid-October, Major Durbin left the battalion on secondment to Kuala Lampur as General Staff Officer II with the fledgling Malaysian Armed Forces. While much of his responsibilities consisted of staff work, he frequently liaised with the Malaysian Navy and Air Force in training and was pivotal in bringing the country’s armed forces out of infancy, an achievement for which he was recognized with an award of the Member of the British Empire. After two years in Malaysia, he returned to his Gordon Highlanders.
Dubs enthusiastically participated in the Nijmegen marches again during the summer of his return from Southeast Asia. Though he did not fight any vehicles or break bones, he was again afflicted during the exercise when he developed a debilitating rash that prevented him from walking during much of the four-day event. He commandeered a bicycle and continued to lead his Jocks, but was ultimately disqualified because he had not physically marched for the event. Disappointed with this ruling, he treated the platoon to food and drink at the nearest Gasthaus to raise their spirits. It seems unanimous that he was on the edge of lunacy, always one for the Jocks, and among the truest of Gordon Highlanders.