‘The colonel’s back from his leave in the Cameron Highlands, so it’s business as usual. Get to his office at eight sharp, OK?’ It was seven fifteen on Friday morning, the new boy’s first full day at BMH. Six other officers were at the table and nodded a greeting, though this early in the day, no one was in much of a mood for conversation. They were all in newly laundered jungle greens in various stages of fading, depending on how long they had been out from home. Some wore a tailored shirt and shorts, others the longer bush jacket and trousers, but all had brass or dark red pips or crowns on their shoulders and the regulation cherry red lanyard around the left armpit. All had the green and purple ribbon of the ‘General Service Medal with clasp Malaya’ on their breasts, though some like Alf Morris, had a few more campaign markers alongside. Even Tom had his GSM ribbon, as they were issued within two days of arrival in FARELF. It was claimed that some chaps in Hong Kong had the Malaya Medal, because their troop plane had been delayed in Singapore by engine trouble for twenty-four hours, which qualified them for being on active service!
