Bullets and Bumboats
Recollections
of the Limbang Raid
I was playing golf at RAF Seletar golf course when the Land Rover, with a military policeman, pulled up and told me to get in and to get back to camp straight away. Camp was a veritable hive of activity - everyone seemed to be dashing everywhere and there were rumours flying around all over the place. I had recently been deployed to HQ Company into the Intelligence section, which mostly seemed to supply maps to the Companies and to spend a fair bit of time issuing and receiving SITREPS (situation reports),- basically it could be regarded in Marine terms as a 'square number'. Sometime later we found ourselves aboard a military aircraft landing at the airfield at Labuan, an island off the coast of Borneo. There we had a brief stopover and were treated to the arrival by air of a number of coffins. Don't know to this day if they were significant, but they certainly raised a few eyebrows! Then it was on to Brunei City where we were taken to this 5 star hotel(I think it was called the OK Hotel) and it certainly was OK as far as we were concerned. There was even a bar downstairs and we looked forward to opening time but it was all too good to last. Lima Company was in need of more Marines so I was re-attached to my old Coy, and later that afternoon we boarded two Z craft for our journey to Limbang. We had been briefed on the basic information about our task, which was to recapture the town from the TNKU rebels and to rescue the hostages, one of whom was the Resident (sort of British representative), who turned out to be an Aussie and his wife. We set off, excited and somewhat anxious and for most of us this would be our baptism of fire.
The journey through the tangle of waterways was not without problems, but the navy got us to our harbouring-up point where we waited for dawn to come. It was still dark when the engines started up again and we moved out into the river for our final approach. As we rounded a bend in the river we could see the glow of the lights above the trees, and just as that registered the lights were suddenly extinguished because they knew we were coming. As we rounded the next bend the township could be made out along the left bank of the river as we approached. The Intelligence sgt., in the leading boat (Sgt Dennis Smith),was calling out in Indonesian or Malay for the rebels to surrender peacefully. This was met with bursts of gunfire and the loudhailer was rapidly discarded - diplomacy was not going to work! I was in the second of the two boats and we had periods of confusion as all hell broke loose. The men in the leading craft took the brunt of the fire but we too had our share of attention. We scrambled ashore past the medics who seemed to have dead and wounded Marines lying everywhere and it was an unfamiliar and unsettling scene.
We were pinned down for some time, although time was so difficult to consider, but we eventually received orders to clear the houses to the right of the hospital and to proceed until we had cleared the rebels from that end of town. I was put on point and found myself leading a troop of Marines along this unsealed road with tall, thick grass to our right and jungle to our left. When I looked back I was disturbed to see that the next Marine was a damn long way behind me! The window of a house on stilts to my right suddenly flew open and a face appeared shouting and pointing into the tall grass near the river.
I was given the job of scouting ahead of the troop when a window flew open and with signs and words the local indicated that there were a number of rebel soldiers hiding in the long grass near the river. One section of Marines provided covering fire whilst the other sections advanced in extended line, firing volleys as they went. One rebel was killed and the others,if there were others, vanished in the long grass. Since I was considered part of the unit Intelligence section it was felt that I and two others should carry the body back to the roadway. I know it doesn't make sense, the logic behind some decisions, but we lugged the body back to the road anyway. I left the two others to 'guard' the body but I can't imagine where it might disappear to, but as I said, everything was a bit illogical that day. I rejoined the troop and off we went again but this time I was in second place and that felt far more reassuring. We travelled along the road clearing the houses as we went then we swept round to our left to approach the Residency, a large building on higher ground. No more rebel contacts so we headed back to the hospital. We had to go back to the Residence later to find the Resident's war medals but why he wanted them I'll never know. We all seemed to be smoking black cigars and we were like something out of the movie, "The Good the Bad and the Ugly." Dead bodies seemed to have become the responsibility of the Int. section , so Daryl Needham and myself had the unpleasant task of searching them for identification, which involved getting our hands pretty bloody. One rebel was shot that night by the sentry on the LMG behind the hospital. Come dawn Daryl and I set out to find the body. It was badly shot up and we could hardly prise the body from the ground, as it was stuck fast. In his pockets we found a wallet with a photograph in it, and a wad of money stuck together with coagulated blood. That none of this seemed to offend us or have any emotional effect on us didn't strike me till much later. We also found a tiny red plastic box, about the size of a small eraser and in it was a miniature copy of the Koran. I felt some remorse at that point, and I suppose his need of spiritual reassurance paralleled my own needs. Having searched and identified the bodies we then carried them down to the front of the hospital and left them lying there in rows. I think a burial party took over at that point but I'm not sure.
Things in the Limbang area soon began to get back to normal, as most of 42 Commando were now in place and other support personnel were deployed in the immediate area. I had been returned to HQ Company and was back issuing maps, aerial photographs, sitreps, and searching the odd body that turned up from time to time, which was quite macabre! Soon afterwards HQ moved to the township of Bangar, a fairly well established location, with large houses reportedly once belonging to local officials whom I assume took off for the big city to escape the TNKU. Anyhow, we were billeted in these large edifices perched on stilts near the banks of a large river. The Intelligence office went through a daily routine of investigating, identifying prisoners, trying to discover the enemy troop deployment, and strategy. We were assisted, or as seems more likely, we assisted the SIB officer attached to our HQ. These special investigation branch officers were fluent in the local languages and were well informed of the big picture. So prisoners would come to us to be identified and their home villages pinpointed. All this helped to establish patterns of enemy movement and possible hideouts. This may sound exciting but our days were relatively boring because we, the lower ranks, operated on a need to know basis - we were the mushrooms. Our boredom was temporarily relieved when the monsoon rains came and the river burst its banks and flooded the town to a depth of approx. 6-8 feet! Initially this new condition was welcomed, until it was time to go to the heads (toilet). The only head above water, and therefore the only one that functioned, was in a building on higher ground at the other end of the town. Well, a long dugout canoe was acquired and for obvious reasons was renamed the bumboat and this precariously unsafe craft was our lifeline to the heads and the prospect of relief! That bumboat could tell some tales of heroic charges and mad paddling, of gallant victories and ignominious defeats. And when a mild attack of dysentery struck the HQ the paddling became more frenetic and the cries of despair and anguish more frequent! Somewhere, in the bottom of a trunk or an old kitbag, I should still be able to find an original TNKU flag I souvenired and maybe an aerial photo of Limbang as it was pre-1962. For many years I kept that little Koran as a sad little reminder of friends I had lost and the futility of it all.
K.D.Fyffe
2002
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To all the Royal Marines who have felt |
Also See
Official After Action Report and map |
Limbang Raid |
Never seen before pictures of the Raid |
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