Nick Hinton – Sirmoor Rifles Association

Sir John Nott served in the 1st Battalion of the 2nd Goorkhas from 1953-56. An extract from his 2002 autobiography describing his military service can be downloaded here.

The book also contains an interesting exchange between Nott and Field Marshal Lord Bramall, Colonel of the 2nd Goorkhas, during the planning for the Falklands War, when Nott was Secretary of State for Defence and Bramall was a General and Chief of the General Staff:

Nott: Dwin, you can’t send the Gurkhas. We are having frightful trouble holding things together in the United Nations and it is more than likely that the Indians will kick up a frightful fuss. It is just too risky politically to send the Gurkhas in my view.

Bramall: The 7th Gurkhas are part of 5th Brigade, the designated strategic reserve, and if we recoil from sending them now there will always be some reason for not sending the Gurkhas on future operations.

Nott: I agree that point and, as an ex-Gurkha I would, of course, be mortified if we spoilt their chances.

Bramall: Look, Secretary of State, I am the Colonel of your Regiment [the 2nd Goorkhas] and I am telling you that they must go and I am requiring your support to fight our corner with the Foreign Office.

Nott: If you are instructing me in your capacity as Colonel of the 2nd Goorkhas, then of course, Dwin, I have no option but to obey!

Lieutenant General Sir Peter Duffell recalls:

“I was very familiar with that exchange as I was a Colonel in military operations at the time and the CGS had discussed this issue with me. I had encouraged him to take the line he did. Subsequent to his exchange with John Nott and with the FCO still fretting General Dwin, in front of Ministers at a meeting at Chequers, told Mrs Thatcher that he was planning to send a Gurkha Battalion to the Falklands. ‘Only one?’ came her reply and so all was set.”

Total 302 members: 125 full membership; 103 attached/seconded/relatives; 74 honorary.

Extract from Sir John Nott’s autobiography ‘Here Today, Gone Tomorrow: Recollections of an Errant Politician’, covering his military service 1952-56:

Download (PDF, 4.55MB)

Part 1: Meeting on 16th July

On the morning after England’s Semi-final defeat in the World Cup an illustrious gathering of Sirmoorees met at Hurlingham to enjoy some fun on the croquet courts. Sadly, Peter and Annie could not be with us, but Bruce made the long journey from Bristol, John Swanston, Christopher and Griselda from a little closer and Mark, Sophie and Jon Aslett from just around the corner!

After a jolly lunch on the Terrace we occupied the ‘Sirmoor Tent’ on Court 6, with welcome shade from a bright sky and 30 degrees. Jon at 95 set his ball on a perfect line to the first hoop – and otherwise held court in the shade – a wise decision. We played three rounds of Golf Croquet (one doubles and one singles) and suitably the last Round ended in both games being decided by the ‘Golden Hoop’ (when the game is drawn at 6 hoops each).

The Golden Mallet Award. The Player of the Tournament was yet again Sophie – who ran Hoop 6 and 8 from 5 yards, and later on ran Hoop 1 and straight through Hoop 2 with one stroke! A feat that emulated her performance last year.

Tea and scones in the ‘Sirmoor Tent’ was very kindly provided by Sophie and her husband Alistair was the perfect finale to a most enjoyable day – with some enjoyable ‘swinging of the lantern’ from (much) earlier days! We could have gone on chatting for hours!

The ‘Sirmoor’ Tent

Jon ‘on strike’!

The Doc in fine form

Bruce points the way

Enjoying the running of a hoop!

Tales of yore over tea and scones !

For the record:

Round 1
Mark 7 / Bruce 4
John and Christopher 7 / Sophie and Griselda 5

Round 2
Mark and Sophie 7 / Bruce and Griselda 2
Christopher and John had a joyful game.

Round 3

John and Sophie edged out Griselda and Bruce on the Golden Hopp.
Christopher edged out Mark on the Golden Hoop

Part 2: Meeting on 20th August.

Peter and Annie returned to the hallowed courts of Hurlingham for our second outing of the Summer on 20^th August. David Santa Ollala replaced Bruce, otherwise it was the same ‘happy band’ that had so graced the courts a month earlier. Heavy downpours as we assembled on the Terrace made us think we might be in for a long lunch and not much croquet, but someone had done their Puja that morning and bang on time the skies cleared and we took to the courts!

Jon got the ball rolling again before setting up his stall in the Umpires Tent. With an even and well-watered lawn the court played well and while Sophie did not repeat her July heroics, there was some skilled and competitive play around the hoops.

Two hours later the sun was vanquished and an increasing wind and a few drops of rain gave notice of a further downpour. We packed up our mallets and balls with stylish urgency, and managed to gain the shelter of the Conservatory before the deluge – wherein we took tea and scones.

For the record (Golf Croquet):

Round 1:

David and Sophie triumphed over Peter and Annie 7-4

Christopher and the Doctor edged Mark and Griselda 7-3

Round 2:

Peter and Christopher prevailed over Mark and David 7-2

The Umpire decided that Sophie and the Doctor’s game with Griselda and Annie should be drawn at 5-5 as the first drops of rain descended and the wind increased!

Jon gets play under way

Round 1 Line ups

An elegant display of croquet prowess

The Doctor in full cry!

The Umpire’s Tent

The technical aspect of the game were well mastered!

The Doctor’s Surgery

Sirmoor Reminiscences……

On Tuesday 25th August at the invitation of the Colonel of The Royal Gurkha Rifles, Brigadier David Pack, I accompanied him to Balmoral Castle for the presentation of the Queen’s Truncheon to His Majesty the King for his inspection on the first occasion since his Coronation.

The representative party included the Truncheon Jemadar and Escort provided by the First Battalion and the Commanding Officers and Gurkha Majors of both Battalions. Among the Escort was Corporal Nischal Thapa the three times consecutive winner of the King’s Medal at Bisley and the finest shot in the British Army. His medals had been presented to him by The King when he had won them in 2023, 2024 and 2025. He did not shoot in 2026.

The evening before our audience we were generously entertained to dinner in the King’s Guard’s Officer’s Mess and afterwards toured the Castle grounds and ramparts.

We had a memorable day at the remarkable Balmoral Castle and a generous audience with His Majesty. It is nearly fifty years since as Prince of Wales, the King was appointed Colonel in Chief of the 2nd Goorkhas and then of The Royal Gurkha Rifles following amalgamation. We reminisced among many matters, about Hong Kong – where the King first saw the Queen’s Truncheon on parade and met his Regiment, about Nepal and the interim pause when the Truncheon was laid up in the Indian Army Room at Sandhurst until three years later at his robust encouragement it was brought back into service with The Royal Gurkha Rifles.

His Majesty spoke most movingly to us all about his association with His Regiments now approaching fifty years – which he hoped could be marked in some way – and his genuine admiration and affection for the Gurkha soldier.

I thought His Majesty looked fit and well and when I asked him how he was he was very positive. He was in good heart, laughing and joking with us and at the end of the audience ‘a wee dram’ arrived from nowhere for everyone and The King gave the toast ‘Jai Goorkha’ to which we all responded lustily before proceeding to the Equerry’s office for lunch.

In its way it was an historic occasion and we all recognised how fortunate the Regiment is to have His Majesty as Colonel in Chief and for him to express such avid support for the Gurkha soldier and what he represented. It was a memorable visit, everyone looked very smart and the Queen’s Truncheon Escort drill was immaculate.

PRD

The following article by Field Marshal Sir John Chapple was published in The Sirmooree #71 in Summer 2013:

Download (PDF, 880KB)

I was fortunate enough to be John Chapple’s ADC or chief bag carrier and bird spotter for eighteen months from 1989-1909, during his time as Chief of the General Staff. A fascinating time in the MOD when the iron curtain was crumbling and the Minister for Defence Procurement unleashed his Machiavellian plan; optimistically called ‘Options for Change’. The General (as he was then) was the ultimate ‘Whitehall Warrior’ and with sagacity steered the army through a very difficult time. We could have ended up with the numbers similar to the decimated Service that we have today. In my humble opinion, and being a fly on the wall, he was the right man in the right job, at the right time.

One of the first official visits we undertook was to Indonesia. This was a revelation at the time as this was the first time that such a senior British officer had visited the country since the end of the Indonesian confrontation and the first time the General had returned to the Sarawak Sabah side of the Indonesian border since he was a captain. What follows are my meandering memories of a tour over thirty years ago.

The Dinner Night

What had not been briefed to us back in UK was gleefully announced by the Defence Attaché the afternoon before the dinner with the head of the Indonesian army. He explained that it was customary for the host of the dinner to perform a ‘musical part piece’. What slightly threw the General was that the chief guest was expected to repay the compliment in a likewise manner. He looked at me, the DA looked at me with a wry smile and all I could think of was Stanley Holloway’s monologue ‘The Battle of Hastings’ (it was not musical and I am not sure the Indonesian generals would have appreciated my Yorkshire accent). After making me sweat for a couple of hours the DA graciously, of course, mentioned he had to do it frequently and had a piece prepared. That night he and his wife gave a rendition of the Rolf Harris song ‘The Court of King Caractacus’ which was sufficiently long and incomprehensible to fulfil our obligation.

The Briefing

The General’s key note briefing, in front of the Indonesian military hierarchy, was about the Falklands conflict. At the end of a very comprehensive talk, a small Indonesian general in the front row, raised his hand and asked “General, thank you for your talk, but what is your secret?”, to which the reply was ‘Please explain’.

“You have told us about these very remote and barren islands that British people want to live on and you went to war to defend them. In Indonesia we have over 17,508 tropical islands or which only 6,000 are permanently inhabited and the vast majority of our population live on Java. We have been trying for decades to redistribute the population of Java to the other islands…..they do not want to go. And so I ask you again what is your secret?”

Ujong Kulong

On the very western tip of Jave is the wild life reserve of Ujong Kulong. It home to last 50 to 70 Javan rhinos. The General, as president of the WWF, was more than keen to spot this elusive animal. After two days of searching, my knowledge of LBJs (Little Brown Jobs (Birds)) was profound. The only sight of the rhino was a BBJ (Big Brown Job)!

You can see Krakatoa from the reserve as it sits between Sumatra and Java. It is west of Java unlike the film would lead you to believe.

Surprise Reunion and the Ghee Tin Missile

During the visit the General met, for the first time, the Indonesian officer who was on the other side of the valley that formed the border during the confrontation. They swapped their experiences. One stood out in particular: the Indonesian officer asked about the missile that the local Iban tribesmen had told him that the British had. To save the officer’s face the General feinted surprise and said the tribesmen must have been mistaken.

The truth was that the General had got his men to build a fake missile; the body was made out of ghee tins, it was given fins and a nose cone, and painted red and black (of course!). This was secured to a trailer that could be moved up and down to simulate a launch position. This was situated just outside the village. It was covered by a tarpaulin and guarded by two soldiers, night and day. Every morning the tarpaulin was removed and the missile elevated to launch position, a lot of false fire commands issued, the missile was brought down to its rest position and recovered. As there was a lot of cross border traffic the General had hoped that word of this would get back to the Indonesians. He was delighted to know (20 years later) that the subterfuge had been a success.
Historical Footnote on Indonesian C130B Registration T-1306 (September 26, 1965).

In September 1965 one of the few Indonesian C130 transport planes was carrying paratroopers (reinforced platoon of RPKAD 1st Battalion Company C ‘Cobra’) and was flying along the valley of Long Bawen. Their mission was to neutralise a gun position on the border ridge. Indonesia had so few C-130s that the troops on the ground thought it must be an enemy plane. Commonwealth troops knew it was an Indonesian plane. Both sides opened up and it was hit by friendly fire. One of the two right hand engines caught fire, which developed onto the wing. All the paratroopers were forced to bail out over the forest at low altitude. The flight crew made an emergency landing, saving 17 flight crew and passengers.

We were subsequently told on the visit that this incident, indirectly, changed Indonesian history. The paratroopers were from the presidential guard. As the guard had been depleted, the September 30th Movement staged an abortive coup, kidnapped and killed six of Indonesia’s most senior generals. Major General Suharto, crushed the coup attempt within days. He blamed the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) for masterminding the plot and a brutal, state-sanctioned purge took place. The destruction of the PKI shattered the delicate political balance President Sukarno had maintained between the military, communists and Islamists. This paved the way for Maj Gen Suharto to be elected president in 1968, initiating his 32-year ‘New Order’ authoritarian regime.

The following is a 2nd Goorkha version of a poem written by Major Peter Sparks (1914 – 2003) that was originally published in Punch in 1949. It was
subsequently republished in the 1950 edition of Regimental News, whose editor commented that the Sirmoor erudition was rather shattering, but this
could be attributed to the brilliant conversation which is usually heard in the Mess……

Lady, in your crimson sari, undulating up the queue
For the fast eleven -thirty, Bournemouth – bound from Waterloo,
Do you like the way we travel? Aren’t our platforms cold and pale ?
Don’t you hanker for the chaos of the old Calcutta Mail ?
Do you never miss the voices crying coconuts and pan,
Crying water for the Hindu, water for the Mussulman;
Miss the crowded wooden benches in the dilatory train,
Miss the three- day – journey to the distant village in the dusty plain?
Where the smoke of burning cow dung spreads its homesick – making smell
And your sisters, softly swaying, balance homeward from the well
Tier on tier of brazen vessels ? Do you never long to see
Kites and bubuls, crows and mynahs? Bullock carts ? A peepal tree?
Would the evening howl of jackals still be music to your ears?
Have you heard the West a- calling through the voice of Donald Peers ?*
Do you go for Veeraswamy’s chillies, turmeric and rice
Or exotic puddings, apple flans and cottage pies?
Have you left your Mother Ganges, turned your back on Kali’s shrine,
For a pilgrimage to Boscombe, Canford Cliffs and Branksome Chine?
Madam, take my reservation in the Tudor dining car.
Where’s the queue for Coromandel? When’s the train to Malabar?

*Donald Peers (1908 – 1973 ) was a popular Welsh-born singer

The following anecdores about Doc Evans were included in some Regimental correspondence recently passed to me by Colonel Denis Wood, having been sent to him by Major John Lamond . We are grateful to Denis for agreeing to their publication here.

Lieutenant Colonel Herbert ‘ Doc ‘ Evans MBE DL (1915 -1998) was commissioned into 9GR and transferred to the 2nd Goorkhas in 1948, serving with the 1st Battalion during the Malayan Emergency. He retired from the Army in 1968 to live in Pembrokeshire, where he was appointed Deputy Lieutenant of the County. He earned his nickname from having been a medical student in Edinburgh before the start of the Second World War. He was also a fine tenor and was said to have had some training as a singer. Indeed, after a convivial evening at a Bugis Street Chinese restaurant in Singapore , he would often sing an aria from his favourite operas and attract a small but bemused audience.

Kalo Paltan

A Welshman hailing from Pembrokeshire, Doc was one of a fast disappearing breed; a genuine eccentric left over from the War who did not give a damn for anybody or anything except good companionship, Anchor beer and grand opera . In 1948, when Doc was Brigade Major Brigade of Gurkhas in Seremban, his wife had given up and returned to the UK to manage their estate, complaining about his eccentricity and the amount of time he spent drinking. On one particular occasion during an official visit to 1/7GR, he joined several like-minded individuals for a post-lunchtime session in their Officers’ Mess, where outside he had parked his small MG two-seater. The Mess was of a bamboo and rush construction, which was common in those days in Malaya, being sensible, cool and attractive. Pictures were hung and regimental silver displayed. It was very much the Battalion’s home.

Long after lunch, and while Doc was going through his operatic repertoire in his fine tenor voice, including a rendition of his favourite song ‘Santa Lucia‘, his ‘ friends in the ‘kalo paltan‘ [black regiment, named after their all-black mess kit] thought it would be amusing to jack up the rear axle of his MG on bricks. Eventually, and much later that afternoon, Doc emerged somewhat unsteadily, climbed into his car, put it into gear and attempted to drive off. Not comprehending what was wrong, he moved rapidly through the gears and trod heavily on the accelerator. The car began to shudder as the wheels spun madly and the axle threatened to bounce off the bricks. The windows of the Mess were full of grinning faces in the know, but their grins soon turned to horror when the MG suddenly shot forward like a whippet out of a trap and crashed straight through the Mess wall. Perhaps by this stage, Doc had an inclination of what was happening, for he was clearly out of control and could do nothing as the car flew on and out of the other side of the Mess, while he disappeared in a burst of song and alcoholic haze, but leaving two large holes in the shape of an MG and Doc’s head … or so the story goes.

Target Practice

Doc was appointed 2IC 1/2GR on three occasions during the Malayan Emergency, and in 1954 was with Tac HQ located near the main road in a rubber estate a few miles south of Kota Tinggi. As life at ‘ Tac ‘ was all too humdrum for Doc, he was in the habit of livening it up by visiting friends outlying company bases.
The usual means of travel in those days, when ambush was an ever-present danger, was by Humber scout car. That admirable workhorse of the Emergency had a crew of three: a driver in the well of the vehicle who had to peer through a small slot in the armoured plating, a wireless operator hunched at the side of the driver, and a ‘ commander ‘ seated above in a revolving turret with a pair of twin-mounted LMGs fitted plus one hundred rounds at his disposal.
And so early one evening, Doc set off. He soon reached the base of D Company (Major P T Bowring) located on the Nam Hang Estate, without incident, and a splendid company nautch followed. However, all good things must come to an end, and (with apologies to Robert Burns) “ The hour approaches Doc maun ride “. It is claimed that Doc had left D Company base in fine voice, and the scout car successfully negotiated most of the five miles of rubber estate road without any real difficulty. However, after a while, it occurred to Doc that it might not be a bad idea to scare off any bandits with some prophylactic fire. And so, singing as he revolved the turret, he succeeded in killing or at least wounding a few score rubber trees en route. But it was not long before edgy planters were quickly on the radio to Tac HQ with reports of ‘ There is firing at the 33rd milestone Nam Hing Estate ‘ to which came the reply ‘ Yes, we know about it, no need to worry ‘. Then shortly later, came another report, ‘ Firing now at the 32nd milestone ‘, and the reply, ‘ Please don’t worry. Everything is under control, and thank you for your call. We are taking action.’ Meanwhile, inside the scout car, the wireless operator’s attention was being divided between getting a sitrep through to Tac HQ and dodging red-hot empty LMG bullet cases from going down the back of his neck. The po-faced driver was having to concentrate hard, peering through his metal slit at the winding estate laterite road using the faint beams of light from the angled headlights. Above these two, Doc continued singing and squirting fire in an alcoholic haze at the serried rank of rubber trees.

Then suddenly, as the scout car rounded a bend, the soft ‘thump’,’ thump’ of rubber trees being hit mysteriously changed from thump to ‘clang’, ‘clang,’ ‘clang’. The driver and operator both heard the new sound, but with muffled cries of ‘arre ‘, got on with the job in hand. Doc, oblivious to his particular Kirk-Alloway (‘When, glimmering thro’ the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem’d in a bleeze (’Tam o’ Shanter by Robert Burns )) eventually reached Tac HQ, where he dismissed the scout car crew and hogsnarled, collapsed into bed.

The officer in charge of the local Police Tactical Unit, which had been ambushing a rubber estate, was not amused at the line of bullet holes in his transport. Fortunately, his men had heard the singing and firing getting nearer and had the good sense to get under cover. The Commandant at that time was not a Gurkha born and bred, but he was black-buttoned and a man who appreciated ‘ style ‘. (Lieutenant Colonel G P Rickcord DSO, late Royal Ulster Rifles ). As he emerged from his room onto the verandah at 06.30 hrs with his morning tea, sniffing the exquisite Malayan dawn and listening to the shrieks of the gibbons, he was somewhat surprised to see that Tac HQ was being cordoned by a circle of men with serious intent. To cut a long story short, the angry Police Officer explained what had happened while Doc snored the sleep of the damned in his room at the back of Tac HQ. To cut the story even shorter, Doc in turn had some fast explaining to do, but being Doc, he survived, reformed for a few months, and then went on to further successes!

Peking Ducks

The worst of the Malayan Emergency was over and the Battalion was based at Slim Barracks, Singapore. Doc was still 2IC and life was altogether much easier.
Doc possessed a gruff, hearty extrovert manner, and his actions on meeting others in the Lines always followed the same pattern. He would stride along a road with a scowl rather like King Kong, and before the person coming the other way had time to salute, Doc would growl in rough, ready and very impolite Gurkhali – ‘Ke garchhas?’ [‘What are you doing?’]. Then, without waiting for a reply, he would spit on the ground, thump the startled person in the stomach, shout ‘ Lato ‘ [‘Stupid’]and walk on. This greeting became Doc’s SOP, was expected by everyone and caused much amusement. Indeed, had he not acted in this way, there would have been something seriously wrong!

One year, a local Chinese contractor had presented Doc with a dozen ducklings. Doc planned to fatten them up for Dashera, and he cared for and guarded them lovingly. They followed him round the Lines like a Jack Russell terrier, and living on bhat had rapidly put on weight. Some even claimed Doc fed them with codliver oil and ‘diabolical steroids‘, but by September they had all become very fine ducks, and Doc was beginning to slaver. Sadly, other eyes must have been on the ducks because one day, Doc woke up to discover they had all gone AWOL. Doc was furious. He followed up every possible clue without success, but he was like a bear with a sore head. On the day of the loss, it had been raining heavily, and someone suggested, perhaps with tongue in cheek, that the ducks might have entered the monsoon drain and been swept down towards Holland Village. Doc took this seriously and followed up on the lead. Yes, someone had indeed heard ducks quacking just outside Slim Barracks, and so wearing his Empire building shorts, bush shirt and chukka boots and armed with his blackthorn, Doc set off along the monsoon drain, questioning everyone he met.

The modest-sized monsoon drain near Slim Barracks was soon joined by many tributaries, and as Doc approached Holland Village, it was about nine feet wide.
A Chinaman was standing idly on a footbridge over the drain, with a Good Morning towel around his neck, picking at a mouthful of gold teeth. The inscrutable face of the East momentarily flickered at the sight of this strange, red-faced Englishman ploughing his way down the drain, waving a stick and screaming at innocent bystanders. Doc stopped at the bridge, looked up and shouted, ‘Ke Cheena – mero hans dekhis?’ [‘Oi, Chinaman, have you seen my ducks?’]. Getting a blank stare in response, Doc spat and shouted ‘Lato!’, then strode on towards Collyer Quay and the sea.

From The Daily Telegraph August 1997:

Major PH ‘Val’ Meadows, who died aged 78 in July 1997, was awarded an MC when serving behind Japanese lines in Burma, and was also twice mentioned in despatches.

The citation for Meadow’s MC recorded that ‘with great personal courage and endurance he led small parties deep into enemy territory, and his many and daring exploits caused bewilderment, uneasiness and numerous casualties among the Japanese’.

After the war, Meadows joined the Malayan Civil Service, and when Malaya became independent he stayed on to become Permanent Secretary (Special Duties) in the office of the Prime Minister of Singapore, Lee Kuan Yew. In 1963 Meadows became chairman of the War Committee when the Brunei rebellion broke out. He ended his career as Director of Far East Levingston Ship Building in Singapore.

Percival (Val) Herbert Meadows was born on May 15 1919 and qualified in Tropical Horticulture at Wye College, where he was captain of boxing. His first overseas appointment was on a coffee plantation in Kenya, from which he moved to tea-planting in Ceylon. On the outbreak of the Second World War he returned to England to enlist in the Lincolnshire Regiment, and soon afterwards won the Combined Service Boxing Championship at Welterweight.
In 1941 he was posted to India where, after initial training, he was commissioned into the 12″ Frontier Force Regiment, joining the 8th Battalion. After active service on the North-West Frontier he was selected for Intelligence duties and sent on a short course at Karachi. Here he also gained his pilot’s licence in a ‘Gypsy Moth’.

Meadows served as Intelligence Officer in the Arakan, mostly behind enemy lines, from 1943. He established a rapport with the local villagers which raised their morale and also brought in valuable and varied information. On one occasion he paddled upstream in a dug-out canoe, ducking enemy fire to rescue a Gurkha who had been left behind. Once he hid in the jungle with two Gurkhas when a whole platoon of Japanese passed within 50 feet. On examining the bodies of dead Japanese he noticed they all carried poems.

In 1945 he transferred to the 2nd Gurkhas, and as part of his duties had to depose the Japanese puppet governor of Perlis (Malaya) and install in his place the rightful Rajah, who then dubbed him ‘Prince of the Southern Seas’.

After the war, Meadows joined the Colonial Administrative Service, and after taking courses at Magdalene College, Cambridge and then the School of Oriental and African Studies, he was assigned to Malaya. However, at the beginning of the Emergency there, when Communist terrorists tried to take over the country, he volunteered for active service, and his previous experience of jungle warfare i Burma proved extremely useful.

In 1949 he was selected to study Cantonese in Macao, a colourful world of gambling casinos, gold smuggling, opium dens and Chinese ‘taxi dancers – girls who could be bought with a ticket for a dance.

For two years, as honorary British Consul, Meadows sent back intelligence reports to London on the Chinese Revolution, then in full swing, and learned the basic 2,500 characters required to read a Chinese newspaper, as well as mastering the art of Chinese brush strokes.

His next posting was to Singapore, but soon afterwards he was sent to Kuantan. In Pahang (famous for its tigers, black panther and deep jungle), which at that time was a flourishing base for guerillas. The chances of an ambush on the remote roads were considerable, but he survived unscathed by driving flat out in his MG sports car.

In the run-up to Independence, Meadows held a number of important administrative posts. He was variously director of Social Welfare (which included the protection of women and girls, some of the youngest of whom were employed in opium dens), chairman of the Rural Board, and Secretary of the ministries of Local Government, of Lands and Housing, and of Internal Security.

After Independence, Meadows’ tasks included the integration of cities and district the Port of Singapore Authority with appropriate legislation. When Lee Kuan Yew’s People’s Action Party had come to power under the ticket of ‘Sweep the British into the Sea’, Meadows recognised this as an election ploy and said “I always understood his game plan’. Meadows was a good friend and loyal supporter o the Prime Minister, a feeling which was reciprocated and his steadying hand calmed the fears of the commercial world and the Eurasian community. The successive stability of post independence Singapore owed much to Meadows. He promoted private enterprise in the development o Singapore and supervised the rapid establishment of television.

When the Brunei Rebellion broke out, at the request of Lord Selkirk, Commissioner General for South East Asia, Meadows agreed to go instantly to Brunei as Acting High Commissioner. As Chairman of the War Committee (Brunei, Sabah, Sarawak) his principal task was to co-ordinate the Armed Services, Police and Civil Service and give policy direction on the conduct of operations. At the outbreak of the rebellion the Residency had been captured and the Sultan, for his safety, was secured in a strong room under Gurkha guard.

Brunei then had no oil millions. The people were poor and aggrieved and one of the first acts of the new High Commissioner was to bring water to their villages by standpipes. In such a little way was their trust regained. Brunei was stabilised, but the rebellion led to Indonesian Confrontation.

In 1963 he was appointed CBE and for his services in Brunei was awarded a Loyalty to Brunei medal. In 1967 he became Chairman of the Singapore Tourist Promotions Board.~

Finally, as Chairman and Managing Director of Levingston Ship Building, he was engaged in the construction of some of the most technologically advanced vessels of the offshore industry.

In spite of his talents and achievements, Val Meadows remained modest and unaffected. But he had the ability to inspire people of all races, creeds and customs. He had a dry sense of humour and a concealed sense of mischief. In a life of notable achievements he thought less of accolades than the generation of ideas from which others might benefit.

He had true nobility of spirit and a spontaneously generous nature. A man of great charisma, in his encounters with others he gave something special to each.
He is survived by his wife, Mary.

Editor’s Note:
What is not mentioned in the obituary is that Val’s first encounter with the Regiment, was, when as Brigade Intelligence Officer in ’44 ,he accompanied a 3rd Battalion patrol led by the then Capt D F Neill which resulted in the killing of 34 Japanese Infantrymen and the capture of another. It was no doubt with some irony that he next served alongside the Regiment as Acting High Commissioner during the Brunei rebellion!