Hi everyone. Judy, my sister and I were at Slim 1953 to 56.
My wife and I went out to see our daughter, Lucinda, at Songkhla
University in southern Thailand at end Aug/early September (that’s
the only time she could spend some quality time with us). When we
had had enough of the beech and swimming pool thing, Jo and I hired
a car and drove across the border and down the state highway to the
Cameron Highlands, staying for the first night in one of those new
(and grotty) hotels in Tanarata. We went into town and I had the
first 'proper' bee hoon soup for years - what memories!
We then moved on and stayed at The Smokehouse, on the edge of the
Cameron Highlands Golf Course - a suite of three rooms with
excellent service - and all those oak beams! Madam Lee (seriously)
the sister of the owner was staying in a cottage next to the hotel
and she and her manager arranged a wonderful surprise for us. You
guessed it, a visit to Slim Kem. A driver duly arrived and took us
to our old alma mater where an impossibly young army Lieutenant
greeted us and showed us round the old classrooms and the new
central block in which, if you remember, Major Benn had his
offices. In the mess hall of this Malaysian army camp there is a
framed photograph with a view taken looking down on Slim from the
nearby hills. It was of my era. Immediately underneath it, in the
same frame, was a recent picture taken from the same spot. I took
a picture of the photo but unfortunately the flash reflected off
the glass and so it is not as good as it might be. After an hour of
reminiscing, which included recalling the time that a black
leopard was supposedly sighted on the playing fields, and the
jungle game explaining to the lieutenant how we went into the
jungle for a complete day. He shook his head in disbelief, as if to
say "mad British". Then the Camp Commandant arrived. A gregarious
Malaysian h excellent English who, as he stood alongside me to have
our photo taken, commented that his head only came up to my chest -
and I'm not quite 6'2"! He was totally absorbed when I told him the
time all those years ago when the big field guns appeared on a
plateau firing shells over the school, 20 miles, day after day, into
the jungle beyond where several hundred terrorists were believed to
be. I told him of our long trips up and down 'The Hill', at the end
and beginning of each term, in the armed convoys with us stuck in
those awful 'coffins', and how I always managed to have someone who
suffered from travel sickness and vomited through the one of the
slits in the side of the APC, euphemistically called a widow! He
laughed and laughed and told us how welcome we were. What a lovely
man. A further half an hour, and 40 pictures later, we left, my
head full of half-remembered memories. For days that song we used
to sing in the evenings in the three tonners, on the journey up to
Hopetoun, kept coming into my head...... "There is a prison camp,
far far away. Where we get codeines ten times a day. Bread and
butter we don't see, we get sawdust in our tea, that is why we
gradually, fad, fade away". Any of you guys remember it? Next I
took Jo on the Jungle Walk which had always been my favourite. You
know the one - along the track to the waterfall. I recounted the
time we came across the little men of the jungle, the Sakai(?),
blowing darts at birds in the tree canopy. They've now been settled
nearby, into a permanent village, which Madam Lee insisted on
showing us, and had a name change. What a shame! And not a
blowpipe in sight! On the way to the waterfall we digressed and
took a steep path to the top of the hill and climbed the Watch
Tower. From there we could see the extent of modern development,
the new hotels in garish colours poking their heads above the trees,
totally out of keeping with our Cameron Highlands. But we Slim
Schoolers knew it when it was exciting!
Jeremy Kitchin
www,grange-cottage.co.uk