THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

194 Memoirs of Mustapha Hussain
crammed in a corner and gamblers were shouting out bets. The circumstances
were ideal for gambling, with no British police or other authorities
to stop them. Several armed Japanese soldiers merely patrolled the streets.
I dare bet that even if several decapitated heads were placed on the gaming
tables, the hardcore gamblers would still have carried on.
Driving around Kuala Lumpur, I came across two white soldiers
taking shelter in a Malay school at Cheras. Malay villagers surrounding
them appealed to me, “Enchik, please take these two to the Japanese. If
not, we will suffer the consequences! Please take them away!” I did not
know what I should do. How did these Malays know that I was with the
Japanese? I was not wearing the ‘F’ arm-band. Maybe they did not know,
but seeing that I had a car, they figured I was able to remove this ‘plague’
from their village.
To help them, I agreed. I signalled to the two white men to get into
my car and they did so without question. They sat quietly in the back as
I drove towards the F Kikan HQ. Luckily, no sentry challenged me along
the way. I was truly afraid that the two white men would be snatched
from me, and that could be fatal for them, and maybe for me too. We
arrived at the F Kikan HQ safely. As I handed them to a Japanese
interpreter, he asked very simply, “Why did you bring them back? It was
easier to just get rid of them there!” With bated breath, I waited outside
the HQ’s front door until the decision came – the soldiers would be sent
to a detention camp. I was relieved beyond words that they would not
be killed.
In my effort to save the lives of the two white soldiers, I was unable
to utter one word to them, even though by nature I am talkative. They
too acted like two dumb persons. More than twenty years later, the
reasons finally dawned on me. One, I felt truly sorry for them. Two, I
was ashamed. I was an educated Malay, but I must have appeared like a
traitor in their eyes, unlike other Malays they knew. Finally, all three of
us could speak the same language, although we were of different races.
In retrospect, they were blessed that I, not the Japanese, had found them.
I heard the British Government had left behind local intelligence
agents to carry on covert operations during the Japanese Occupation. An
agent code-named ‘Lion’ was spying on the IIL. I warned KMM members
to be alert and to go about in pairs to avoid being abducted or killed.
KMM House was closely guarded at all times. In fact we moved several
times to avoid untoward incidents. F Kikan officers continued to advise
me to be cautious in my movements and to inform them of any communists,
remnants of British forces and whatever other elements that could
threaten security.