Several years ago, in the final week of March, a freelance writer named Soh asked me to join her on a trip to Bario. A ceremony commemorating the landing of the Semut Operation would be held in the Highlands and I decided to join her. To be familiar with the subject matter, I did some homework on its history . The trip was important to me because, for the first time in my life, I would be conducting an interview.
Granted, I had — many times — conducted interviews related to the SPM and PT3 at school. However, like most teachers, my interviewees were all students and as you could easily have imagined, I was a bundle of nerves.
My reading of Tom Harrison’s autobiographical account World Within provided me with the requisite information regarding the Semut Operation.
On 25 March 1945, by parachute, Major Tom Harrison and his men, including Sergeant Sanderson, were the first batch of the Z-Unit Coalition fighters to land in Bario. On the heels of their arrival, came the second batch of parachutists. Among whom was H. J. Tradrea, the sole surviving operative who would be present at the anniversary. The operatives came to the Highlands with two aims in mind — to rescue lost American soldiers and to mobilise the locals in a guerilla fight against the Japanese.
Lawai, the chief headman, articulated allegiance to Tom Harrison and together, they went down in history. The war had exposed the Kelabits — the people of Bario, to the outside world politically, socially, economically and educationally. As a token of appreciation, an anniversary ceremony has been annually held on the same date in the Highlands since 2006.
The flight to Bario was fast and smooth. Upon arriving, its lush, pristine greenery amazed me. Indeed, the Highlands looked like a different world, nestled amidst forested hills, and its cool weather was truly refreshing.
Soh and I rested after checking in at our homestay. About two in the afternoon, we attended the rehearsal of the ceremony at the Z Special Unit Memorial Ground, where I was introduced to Mr Gerawat Nulun, my first interviewee. He is the son of a late headman, and the chairperson of the Bario Rice Farmers Committee.
A picture of health in his late sixties, Gerawat sported a red cap with wisps of silvery white hair spilling from its edges. Due to first-time jitters, I went into a stammering mode several times, but Gerawat’s fatherly smile was able to calm me down and he was more than willing in providing me with all the necessary details.
“My father, Aran Tuan KM”, reminisced Gerawat Nulun, “was one of the headmen summoned by Lawai to assist with the operation”. In the centre of the Memorial Ground stood an imposing structure with a plaque, on which bore the inscribed names of every headman involved in the Semut Operation.
The Semut operatives created a great stir in the Highlands, and the villagers quickly alerted Lawai, who, at the time, was in his sick bed. A clairvoyant, sagacious leader, Lawai told his people not to panic and authorised them to render assistance if the ‘intruders from the sky’ came holding saplings with white cloths tied around them. True enough, the operatives came with what Lawai had perceived as a sign of peace, and the villagers offered them undivided support by accepting them into their circle.
Under the directives of Major Tom Harrison, Sergeant Sanderson and his team recruited a lot of locals into the operation, equipping them with combat skills, while H. J. Tradrea, a medical orderly, treated the sick and injured. To break language barriers, Penghulu Miri was appointed to teach those young men Bahasa Melayu. Before coming to Bario, the Semut fighters had attended lessons on the language. The high-spirited young Kelabit men , healthier under Tradeau’s care, were fast learners and became competent fighters who were an asset to the white Semut operatives and a nightmare for the Japanese.
“Taking this opportunity”, said Gerawat, “I would like to pay tribute to an unsung hero, Lian Epang, who tirelessly spun the wheels of the only radio set to transmit messages to the Z-Unit’s headquarters in Jesselton, the present Kota Kinabalu”.
When the Second World War ended, Tom Harrison took the job as museum curator in Kuching and after some time, he returned to Bario, and remained there for two years , improving the livelihood of the Kelabit people besides conducting bird observations and collecting artifacts.
Gerawat’s parents both died young, and he was cared for by his relatives. “I have always been proud of my parents”, Gerawat said. “Their bravery in fighting alongside the white men made me determined in quest of a dignified life. I was able to defy all odds and graduate with a degree in economics, which launched my career”.
When asked what role the younger generation of Bario should play in regard to the annual event, he said they should keep the memories alive in their hearts and be well prepared for whatever challenges that await them in the future, doing the best for the country.
The next day, the ceremony was held with pomp and circumstance. Jack Tradrea, in his nineties, gave away badges of courage to some surviving local warriors and a group of old women who had become porters during the resistance against the Japanese. A few childen of the late Sanderson were also present. Even the surrounding hills and thick folliages seemed to be joining us in reciting the pledge ‘Lest we forget…..”.
The interview had benefited me a great deal by stretching my interviewing and writing abilities. It had also struck home the fact that as a teacher, I should expose my students to more of Sarawak’s local history, particularly the Kelabits’ involvement in the Semut Operation — a shining example of how people of two different worlds worked together for a common goal.
