I was 18 when I was called up to do my national service on the 1st September 1955. I was to report to the 67 Training Regiment Royal Armoured Corps, Hadrians Camp, Carlisle, Cumberland.

After intensive training for six weeks, I was given a short leave before being posted to Malaya with the 11th Hussars (Prince Albert's Own) Regiment, leaving Southampton on board the SS Asturias troop ship, stopping off at Port Said down the Suez Canal, Sri Lanka and on to Singapore, a journey of just over 3 weeks. I was to travel by train across the causeway to Johor Bahru, Malaya, with folks I had met on the ship. After being told of the dangers of terrorist attack, we were issued with Bren Guns. It was then that I realised I was in a War Zone. We were then transported to armoured vehicles to Seremban, this was to be our base camp. From here we would carry out bank searches, road patrols, jungle ambushes and escort food convoys to various villages. It was at these jungle detachment camps that we served alongside the Gurkhas - the 17th Gurkha Division. These trackers were brilliant and would pinpoint the ambush points where the C.Ts would lie (Chinese Terrorists). At these various sites we would lay in ambush, with Gurkhas sometimes two or three days (and nights) at a time. This was where the 3 weeks Jungle Training that we did on arrival to Malaya would come in handy! Most days we would meet up with the Gurkhas in camp or during road patrols or rough treks through the jungle. Part of my service in Malaya was driving a Saracen Armoured personal carrier, escorting food convoys to the various villages.

The war, which lasted some 7 years, was coming to an end but there was still fear of being shot at or ambushed by the few remaining 'communists'. The Gurkhas had been involved since day one and became very popular with us British 'Tommies' during this time. They would, at times, relieve us of Guard duties, that made them really good friends and comrades and were the Bravest of the Brave and in my mind, I will never forget them, or my time in Malaya.

I was due back with the regiment after nine months in Malaya and left on board the Empire Fowey from Singapore stopping off at Colombo and Zanzibar, from Colombo right in to another War Zone where President Nasser was sinking all ships passing through the canal and completely blocking the canal. Our ship with 3 regiments on board pulled into the Bitter lake off the Suez for 3 days ready to go to war. Fortunately, we sailed before fighting broke out, but it was very worrying at the time. However, as the canal was blocked we had a detour of 8 thousand miles, taking us from Zanzibar to Cape Town, South Africa, where we were held a 'Heroes Welcome' as we were the first troop ship to dock there since the Second World War, and were treated like kings by a South African family who picked us up from the docks and treated us to a journey to the top of Table Mountain and other sites around the city. Then on to Dakar, French West Africa, before arriving back in to the UK.

I was then transferred into The Royal Dragoons Regiment and stationed at Bovington Camp, Dorset, and had tank driving lessons on Salisbury Plain. The colonel granted me compassionate leave to get married. After one weeks leave (honeymoon) I returned to barracks, only to find I had been posted to Germany, Celle, near Hanover, where I passed my driving test with a civilian instructor on a Saracen Armoured car and went on to drive many miles during 'SCEMES' in the German Forrests. After what seemed an eternity, I was posted back to the UK and finished my time back in Cumberland after taking a Nuclear Invasion course (what to do in the event of a nuclear attack). I was beginning to think I had gone off the radar.

I don't think I could have packed any more into the two years that I served in the army (then 5 years in the reserve). I am still married to the same girl I married in 1957, Betty, my wife, who is 84 this year and I was 83 this March. I have good memories of the army, especially my time in the jungles of Malaya with the Gurkhas.
John M Bate

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I was aware of the Gurkhas & their reputation for service, loyalty & bravery from my time in the WRAC TA. It wasn't until I went to Sandhurst two years ago for the ACF IOT course that I met any Gurkha soldiers. I found them very professional & charming. We were then hit by the pandemic & I saw the Gurkhas testing people & giving vaccine jabs in this country. When I read about the effects of Covid in Nepal I felt such sympathy for these men who were giving jabs here whilst their own families were dying in Nepal as the country couldn't afford the vaccines. I felt I had to do something. I can't influence this Government myself but I can give something to try to help even a little. I have also been telling family, friends & colleagues in the hope that they may also give to the GWT. I feel that we owe the Ghurkas so much for their amazing loyalty to this country & their 13 VCs that it's the least we should be doing for them.
Helen Forster
Gurkhas have been an important part of my family’s life. Their training depot had been moved to Sungei Patani in Northern Malaya, a few miles from Sungei Toh Pawang estate, after Indian Independence in 1947, when the Brigade was split between the Indian and British armies. The depot received the young men who had passed the extremely competitive selection process and turned them into soldiers. St Philip and St James’ church, which we attended every Sunday evening, was next to the depot and our services took place to the background of young recruits running, marching or just chatting. The first school I attended was an Army infants’ school next to the parade ground, and lessons echoed to shouted drill instructions. Gurkhas occupy a special place in the British Army and wider society. Nepal has never been part of the British Empire, and its citizens who chose to join the British Army did so without their families. Until recently they used to return to Nepal at the end of their service as honoured pensioners. Now they have been given the right to settle in the UK, as is right, but their service to Britain has always been given freely and voluntarily. This has been the case since they were first invited to do so at the end of a battle with the British Indian Army in the mid-19th C. In the disaster of Singapore in 1941 the Gurkhas were the only part of the Indian Army contingent not to suffer wholesale desertions, and they suffered badly at the hands of the Japanese army. In the Malayan Emergency they constituted a high proportion of the Commonwealth forces and proved very skilled at jungle warfare, particularly ambushes, which would be set for hours at a time, requiring soldiers to lie still and silent for all that time. They were fearless and lethal in close quarters combat, using their traditional kukri weapon- half knife, half machete. The knowledge that a Gurkha battalion was in the area was by 1955 a powerful incentive to defect for the sometimes demoralised MRLA fighters. As local Europeans our family would always be invited to the two parades which marked the end of the training for Gurkha recruits at the Depot. These were Beating the Retreat and the Passing out Parade. Beating the Retreat is a traditional British Army ritual, commemorating the days when a regiment’s standard was paraded in front of it at sunset so that the soldiers could see it before nightfall. The recruits would parade in their companies behind their British officers in white uniforms and the Depot band, including bagpipes (the Gurkhas had been taught to play the pipes by the Highlanders they had first fought against) as the sun went down. The next morning, invited guests took their seats at dawn for the Passing out Parade and the recruits would march out of the dawning sunrise, using the Light Infantry quick march they have always used as British troops, and march past a senior officer who had been invited to take the salute. This was the climax of their training and a huge moment for their British officers, this morning dressed in khaki drill shirts and enormous shorts. Legend had it that the shorts would be starched and ironed the previous evening by their batmen and placed standing in the corner of the officer’s bedroom. He would then step into them the following morn. As the British Army has contracted, the numbers of Gurkhas have diminished, until now there are only two infantry battalions, together with signals, logistics and engineers units. Still the passion and commitment of these soldiers burns as brightly as ever, and the competition to get into the British Army is as tough as ever. Today, recruit selection in Nepal is held jointly with the Singapore Police Force, whose Gurkha Contingent performs guard functions and acts as an emergency reserve in case of civil unrest. And as the British Army has struggled to recruit even the limited number of soldiers it now needs; a third battalion of Gurkhas has been raised. It was our privilege as a family in 1996 to welcome three young Gurkha soldiers to our house for lunch when they were stationed as part of a reinforcement Company filling manpower gaps in a British regiment stationed near our home. Immaculately dressed, polite and cheerful, they made a fuss of our young children and gave Tom (aged 6) a present of a kukri, the curved knife/machete which is their symbol. He was well impressed, and for a long time there were carefully controlled viewings and handlings of the kukri, along the lines of their demonstrations. They taught him their war-cry, too: “Ayo Gurkhali!”- The Gurkhas are coming.
Roland Crooke