Operation Post Crown 1967/68
© Jim Parker
The Back Ground
The British Army, as part of the South East Asia Treaty
Organisation (SEATO), sent construction troops to Thailand on Operations “Crown
Force” and then “Post Crown Force” in the 1960s.
British
soldiers of the Royal Engineers started to build a concrete airfield in 1963
about 70 miles from Ubon Ratchsatani in the North East of Thailand, the 5, 000
foot long airfield was completed in 1966.
In
1967 Sappers of 34 Field Squadron RE started the construct of a 39 kilometres
long, 6 meter wide, all weather, road.
59th Field Squadron took over the task in May 1967, followed
in August 1967 by the 11th Field Squadron RE. Finally in February 54th FARELF
Support Squadron arrived and completed the task in April 1968.
This
road construction required moving 70, 000 tons of earth. 120, 000 tons of red clay called laterite for
a surface had to be provided. Along the
roadway 14 timber bridges were built requiring 336 piles. 93 reinforced culverts including 1,700
separate pipes were laid. Thought out
the period Sappers dug wells to supply water for the local population. Electricity systems put in place, and there
was aid to construct schools.
It
was during the construction of this road that I was present in Thailand,
however, I took no physical part whatsoever in these tasks.
Crown Camp was a small base camp surrounded by barbed-wired
in the middle of nowhere in the district of Long Noc Tar (or Leong Nok Tha)
near a small village called Kop Ta Lak.
We were about 70 miles from the town of Ubon Ratchsatani (known universally by the
soldiers simply as Ubon –“Oo-bon”) in North East Thailand close to the Loa
boarder. There was also a work site
which I never visited called Hong Khong Camp.
I was once told we were 120 or so miles from the Ho Chee Min
Trail along which
North
Vietnam supplied communist troops in the
south.
__________________________________________________
23981301 Sapper James Edward Parker aged 21 years.
In 1967, just turned 21 years old, I was a member of the 54th
Corps Field Park Squadron Royal Engineers, based in Singapore working in the Squadron
office as a clerk, and mightily sick of office work. When given a chance to do so, I went
willingly to Thailand.
My first tour, between, 8 May 1967 to 10 August 1967, I was
attached to the 59th Field Squadron RE, working with the Light Aid
Detachment (LAD) Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (REME) as a FAMTO
storeman under Sgt Marriott REME. My
task was simply to indent for and then collect pieces of equipment required by
the fitters and mechanics to repair vehicles.
I left Gilman Barracks in Singapore at 2 am, flew from the
island at 6am and arrived at Crown airfield at 6 pm.
The second tour, 17 February 1968 to 26 April 1968, was with
my own unit, (since renamed) 54th Far East Land Forces Support
Squadron RE during which time I was a member of the Regimental Police, manning
the Main Gate of Crown Camp. Also on the
RP Staff was Lcpl Charlie Quinn my old mate.
This time we may have landed at Ubon as I remember travelling in the
back of Bedford
trucks on roads that were so rough that we were thrown about and had to stand
up and cling onto the overhead structure.
The weather was not unlike Singapore in a word, tropical. The countryside around Crown Camp was flat,
with paddy fields and well-dispersed trees.
The rural Thai population of this Asian paradise were living a stone
aged existence, but they were tough hardy people, cheerful and always friendly. Young Thai woman, were very beautiful.
It is quite difficult to remember when various events
happened unless they were directly connected with my particular role. The tales, I here relate, are in no
particular chronological order, although many are linked together if they
occurred at the same time
Regimental
Policeman, Sapper Parker, outside Crown Camp Guard Room.
Thais greeted each other and us with their hands pressed
together as if in prayer below the chin.
They would give a slight bow and say, “Sawadee” or “Sawadee lakhon”, we
did the same to them.
Sgt Len Clayton RE was a soldier of the old
school and near retirement. He was known
as us in HQ Troop as “The Sarg”. I never
called him anything other than “Sergeant” (Sarnt) to his face. He was a good sergeant, and something of a
character. The OC put him in charge of
all civilian Thai workers. Each morning
when they arrived for work and the Sarg, a Scouse, held a Muster Parade with
his lads. It was a sight to
behold. I am convinced the Sarg
completed his parade for our moral.
When a local who we’ll call Eff Yu got himself a job he was
paid eighty bhats for his labours. He
then found himself another higher paid job.
He “sold” his first job to his mate Tin Can, who paid him half the
wages, forty bhats back each week. Then
Tin Can found second job and sold the first job to Bing Bong for a quarter of
the wages. Bing Bong was now working for
twenty bhats.
The Sarg started his Muster Parade, like all Muster Parades
with the Roll Call. He would sing out
the names of those officially employed by the British Army. So Len Clayton read from his list and shouted
out “Eff Yu!” Bing Bong thought for a
moment and remembered that Tin Can had got his job from Eff Yu and waved weakly
to the Sarg. The Sarg informed him he
was to shout “Here Sarg!” and once again shouted “Eff Yu”, the worker replied
“Here Sarg!” Len moved on to the next
name on his list. “Ar So!” someone
nudged Ung Dong, to remind him he was working for Willi Wonka who was working
for Ar So. And so it went on, every
morning. Having completed the Muster
Roll, The Sarg then started to inspect the men as if they were about to go on
guard at Buckingham Palace. “Dirty flip
flop!” “You get a hair cut!” “Stand properly to attention!” I have proof of these parades, because I have
photographs of them!
Rugby
Linesman. I heard some lads were
going to play Rugby. I asked if I could go and
jumped in the back of a 3 ton Bedford
lorry. The game was against Australians
service men. I have no interest in Rugby. I was there
for the beer.
On arrival I was hijacked into being “our”
linesman; the bloke who runs up and down the touchline to assist the
referee. I was given absolutely no time
to tell anyone, least of all, the referee that I didn’t know the rules! I’d seen my Dad acting as linesman at
football matches, he ran about holding the flag pointing to the ground. With a beer in my hand I did just that. One of our players ran near to the line, he
ran off the field but the ball, was inside the line. So I didn’t wave. An angry Aussie asked why I hadn’t waved and
I replied quite honestly, because the ball had not gone over. He scornfully explained that was not the rule
in rugby! Later an Aussie did exactly
the same thing and I waved. Oh well,
perhaps he shouldn’t have told me! One
side scored a try and the referee indicated I was to stand under the “H” goal
post. All the players went quiet as the
kicker prepared to boot the ball over the cross bar for a conversion. My
dilemma was I didn’t know if I was to wave for a conversion or for a miss! In all events it was such a wide miss that
everyone groaned. So I did nothing.
Driver Training.
The nearest large town was Ubon which I wanted to see for
myself. One of the MT drivers was taking
a vehicle to Ubon to collect store from the railway yard and I asked if I could
hitch an illegal lift. He wasn’t willing
to take me at first, as the sergeant at Ubon was a stickler and would want to
know why I was in the cab. He eventually
agreed to take me, but warned, “If the Sergeant asks tell him you’re on driver
training.” This would indicate I was
perhaps, a learner driver getting some experience. However, I did not know how to driver! I had taken a few driving lessons in Aldershot and been throw off the course!
On our arrival at the railhead the sergeant stabbed a finger
in my direction demanding to know what I was doing in the cab. The driver shouted, “He’s on driver
training!” The sergeant then gave
instruction to the driver who jumped out of the cab. The sergeant then came around to my side of
the vehicle and said, “Right, turn her around and back her up against that
wagon!” I clambered over to the driving
seat and sweating like a pig, wondered what on earth I was to do, without
getting the driver and myself into trouble.
I started the engine and fiddled about with the gear stick. “Come on,” the sergeant shouted from
somewhere. He was probably waving
directions had I looked in the mirror.
His head suddenly appeared level with my ear. “What’s up?” he demanded, making me
jump. “I can’t get it in gear!” I
replied trying to look suitably annoyed.
“Get out, let me try!” He had the
vehicle turned and backed up in a trice, and the driver reappeared soon after.
Sick Parade.
Each day at specific times the front and back gates of the camp were opened for
local civilians to visit the doctor in the Medical Centre.
I’m told the diseases and injuries were
something to behold. In some cases, the
injuries or disease had gone beyond anything normally seen in Europe. It was said to be excellent training for any
doctor. As many Thais had no sense of
time, they often arrived too late and were not allowed entry until the next
day.
I heard was that a Thai was out hunting using a
muzzle-loading gun. His bullets were
probably stones. As he climbed a tree he
dropped his weapon which discharged and shot up his chest seriously injuring
him. He got to the ground and stopped
the bleeding by smearing mud on his wound.
He made his way to the main road and patiently waited for the next
bus. He arrived at Crown Camp more than
24 hours after the accident and waited for the gates to open for “Sick Parade”.
Have You Got a Light?. I was on duty one night at the back gate,
Nash Gate we called it, when an agitated family pushing a child on a
wheelbarrow arrived in the dark. They
kept saying to me the word I recognised to mean, “Give me a light,” when asking
for a match to light a cigarette. I
thought they were asking for a cigarette, and I waved them away. But they persisted pointing at the child who
appeared to be sleeping. Then it dawned
on me, the boy was badly burnt. I phoned
the Guard Commander, who called the doctor and allowed me to let the family in
the camp. Someone came to escort them to
the Medical Centre. The child had 70 or
80 per cent burns. The doctor gave him
painkillers and thought he might live for only a few hours. The poor soul hung on for a few days. Had he been in Singapore
or the UK
he might have survived.
Noot was a Thai prostitute who plied her trade
at the back gate of our camp. She
frequently came into our Medical Centre for prolonged treatment for venereal
diseases. I thought anyone who went with
her must have been crackers! Due mainly
to heavy drinking I once almost had sex with her, but didn’t. That story is told elsewhere. Local prostitute could be hired, for a week
at the princely sum of 80 bhats, about one pound thirty pence! Each prostitute had a card, which, was signed
by the Medical Office in black when the woman was found to be clean and red
with “sick”. We were told, if it is true
or not I do not know, that the Thai police shot prostitutes with a “red” entry.
Two Drivers?
I was in charge of several Thai civilian labourers. A very large transport aircraft had landed on
the airstrip and a young Thai boy came with me when I wandered across to speak
to the aircrew. The Thai indicated by
gestures that he would like to have a look inside the ‘plane. I asked an RAF chap stood nearby and he
cheerfully led the two of us into the fuselage.
He led us up a spiral staircase and into the cockpit. I had never been in a cockpit before and was
quite impressed, the whole of the roof of the cab was covered in dials and
instruments, and we were some height above the ground. I had of course seen films of the working end
of an aircraft, but never close up. My
Thai friend touched my arm, he waved at the seats and with a puzzled look on
his face, “Why two drivers?”
Visit a Thai family. A fellow Sapper had taken Thai language
lessons, and got on very well with the Thai men with whom he worked. A Thai had invited my friend to visit him on
his day off. The authorities said he
could not go alone (we were about 120 miles from the Ho Chee Min trail in Laos). I agreed to accompany him. Why neither of us thought of taking
provisions I cannot say. We did however
wear our issued jungle boots, and may perhaps have worn uniform I don’t
remember. We met the family; the Thai
lad, his wife and a small child in the middle of nowhere by their paddy field.
They were as with all Thai cheerful and friendly. Apparently we were there to assist in rice
planting. The weather was tropically
sweltering, we planters, my friend, the Thai, and me stood about ankle deep in
smelly mud, leaning forward from the waist.
From a bunch of rice plants carried in the crook of the left arm, we
selected a single plant and pushed the root with a twist wrist deep into the
mud. Simple you may think! It was until then, the hardest work I had
ever undertaken. After an hour or so, my
friend and I were somewhat distressed and very thirsty. Neither of us would admit we wanted to
stop.
The wife called across from her “hut”. Well not exactly a hut, four posts, with
roof, and the Thai indicated it was time to eat. I was gagging for a drink. The lady had the meal laid out on a piece of
bamboo matting. She had a metal jug
containing milky white water. We had
been warned over and over again never to drink local water. I took a few sips and then a few more. So did my friend.
The food consisted of what looked like a piece of wood, a
small smelly fish and a fruit, which looked like a dried out green tomato. She had a wicker container that reminded me
of a small tom-tom drum that contained rice.
I ate a small handful of the rice, which was very tasty.
A typical wooden
barrack room in Crown Camp.
(Washroom to the left
and urinal to the right.)
