Picture nights

KD Malaya had its own outdoor cinema and my parents would go up there in the evening to watch the latest films. Dad's friend, Pete Barton, was the projectionist and the films quite often broke. I remember mum and dad taking us to see Goldfinger although I think that was at the Cathay. I could have only been about 4 at the time! I remember the beginning and the bit where Sean Connery nearly gets cut in half by a laser but, as always happened, I fell asleep before the end. All the kids that I knew at the time had Corgi James Bond Aston Martins complete with ejector seats. I've still got mine! Another film I remember seeing there, I think, was the Sound of Music. It was very popular at the time and mum and dad had a reel to reel tape of the soundtrack. There were normally two films shown together complete with cartoons, even for the adults. All the servicemen used to love watching Road Runner and Bugs Bunny and would roar with laughter. You can't imagine it now, can you? Other films that I remember seeing were Born Free at Sandycroft in Penang and Pinochio outdoors one evening at KD Malaya. I think I've mentioned many times before that a boy was sick nearby and everyone watching the film slowly drifted away. It might have been the evening of the Christmas party and perhaps he'd eaten too much. We went to the cinema often but, now after 40 or more years, I can't remember what films we saw. It's funny how some stay in your mind though. Mum and dad would go up the base on their own to watch films and we'd stay at home and would be babysat by their friends or Azizah, our amah. I mentioned Lingha earlier and how his body was collected to be driven home sat up in the back of the car. Lingha ran the bar at KD Malaya along with his brother, Pow. Lingha hurtled around on an old scooter, with a carrier on the back, which was usually full of curry puffs which he sold up at the Officers Mess. My parents would sit outside on a picture night, eating curry puffs and having a drink. Going to the cinema was probably more of a social outing then than it is today and my parents would meet up with friends on the base. There were many cinemas all over Singapore and several on the Naval Base. I think that we went to most of them but, today, I have a job remembering many of the films. Perhaps I fell asleep!

Kindergarten

I've never been one for joining in things or joining clubs or regimental organizations such as the scouts or the ATC. That may explain why, when I was 4, that I wasn't at all happy when my mum decided to enroll me in the local kindergarten. All the other kids went and enjoyed it apparently but I was happy enough at home watching Marine Boy or Samurai or watching my pet fish swim around his jam jar. When the day came for me to go to kindergarten, I'd already played up before the van arrived. Two happy, smiling Chinese people, a man and a woman came to pick me up. I can't really remember the journey to the kindergarten so don't remember if I kicked up a fuss or not. I probably just sat quietly because I was quite shy back then. I also don't quite remember what went on while we were there although I remember the kids all playing games on a small field. The strange thing was, that everyone in charge was Chinese and only spoke Chinese. Even before the end of the day, and even only being 4, I think that I could see a problem coming before it even happened. Whatever we were doing, finished and everyone was taken home. Everyone that is apart from me! I'd been unhappy enough going in the first place but to be left behind as well soon had me very upset. I remember a Chinese woman talking to me and she was probably asking me where I lived but as she only spoke Chinese, we didn't get very far. I don't know how but eventually, very late in the day, I was returned home. I thought with all the fuss that I made on my return, that that would be it. But, sure enough, the next day, the smiling Chinese couple turned up once more in their van to take me off again. I grabbed the table leg and refused to go. I remember my mum pulling my legs, perhaps all three of them did, but I wouldn't let go and eventually the Chinese couple left empty handed. So, that was the end of my education until I was forced to go to school at Kebunteh a year later. I can't remember ever enjoying school although I look happy enough in the photos! The photo above shows me running into the sea at Sandycroft in Penang. I think I'm happy in this photo but I probably let out the same sort of shriek when the Chinese couple turned up in their van!

Bangs on the Head

I wonder how many people ended up in hospital while they were living in Singapore and Malaya in the 1960s? I've heard of many kids who ended up down the monsoon drains after coming off their bikes and there were stories of hookworms which, on a leaflet issued then, said that they could be contracted by walking around in bare feet. If that was the case then we should have all got them! I don't think I ever heard of anyone having any though.

I recently banged my head and when the concussion wore off, I started to think about the times I've banged my head before. If someone had asked me how many times it had happened in Singapore, I would have said just one but now I think about it, there were at least three times that I can remember. The first was just after we got there and I was three and, as I remember, I was standing up on the back of a pushchair. I would have been too old for a pushchair so maybe it was an ordinary chair. Anyhow, as I leaned on the back, it came crashing forward and I smashed my face on the front doorstep at Jalan Wijaya. I was taken to hospital where they put me under a huge x ray machine. My dad got the message at work that it was worse than it was and came rushing home and picked us up at the hospital. My face was a bit squashed and I didn't want to talk but my dad asked me if it hurt and after a while I replied, 'Of torse it hurts!' That's not a spelling mistake - I just couldn't talk properly! I can't remember how long it took me to get over it.

The second bang came when I was about a year older and I was pretending to be a kangaroo at Debbie Sharpe's birthday party. Debbie lived close to us at Jalan Dato Sulaiman. As I jumped, I cracked my head on the window and walked home, crying with blood pouring down my head. I've still got the scar!

The third time was when I was on my bike, it had stabilizers, and I went a bit too quick and fell off and hit the front gate. I'm sure I must have had other accidents like this but I can't remember them. I wonder how many other kids, who were there when I was, also ended up in hospital?

Nowadays, I just bang my head badly about every 10 years so this must mean that as I get older, I'm getting less clumsy. It certainly doesn't feel like it!

The photo shows me when I was very little and there's the doorstep in the background! I'm not sure if this was before or after the accident but I look very happy anyway.

Visits to the Bank

I used to love going to the bank but the only real reason was because they always gave the kids something free. I remember that my free gift was a yellow toy plastic safe which, when you wound it up, would play a tune. It had one of those barrel things with pins inside that hit different notes as the drum turned. It was also a money box. Back then, I was fascinated by it. I remember that we used to travel into Singapore and the bank was somewhere down by the harbour. I think that my dad has told me before that it was the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank but I don't really remember. I do remember, however, that it was very plush and was cooled by huge fans. The staff were always very friendly especially to the children.

When I went back to Singapore in 1990, I went into the main post office there, which has to be the nicest looking post office I've ever been in. Straightaway, I was reminded of our visits to the bank and I wondered if the building housing the post office had once housed our old bank. Does anyone know?

Your memory works in strange ways and there's one other reason why I remember our visits to the bank. Often, when we were queueing up, there would be a man, with one arm, in the next queue. I even remember that he wore a white short sleeved shirt. Isn't that strange that I should remember that because I would have only have been about 5 years old at the time. It sounds terrible now but, because he had one arm, I imagined him being some sort of villain or a spy. Up until then, or since, I'd never seen anyone with one arm and I think my reasons for thinking he was a crook was just because of one thing - the television! Before we left for Singapore in 1965, my parents had been watching the Fugitive which starred David Janssen. Of course, the real criminal that committed the crime only had one arm. I still don't understand how the police failed to catch him from that description! Anyhow, because of our move to Singapore, my parents missed the last episode, and it must have been either me seeing the programme (though I don't remember us having a telly), or my parents talking about it, that I associated men with one arm as being baddies. That's how you think when you're 5 years old! There was another thing that I think I remember about the bank and that was that it had a lift and self-opening doors which, as I mentioned before, as a kid, fascinated me!

Incidentally, my parents never did get to see that final episode of the Fugitive! Did they ever catch him?

Hair

Being Forces kids, we all had quite short hair but with it being the 1960s, many people decided that they wanted to grow their hair. However, this was frowned upon by the Singapore government. The picture shows a sign that was displayed at many public buildings until at least the 1970s. It states that, 'Males with long hair will be attended to last' and by long hair, they meant hair falling across the forehead and touching the eyebrows, hair covering the ears or hair reaching below an ordinary shirt collar. I don't remember seeing any men with long hair when we were there and everyone all looked pretty tidy. Perhaps the attraction for long hair took place after we left in 1968.

An article in a Singapore newspaper on the 8th December, 1969 read:

No to 'Beatle' haircuts for civil servants.

The Government warned its employees that it would not tolerate unkempt Beatles mop-top haircuts or 'flashy' clothing during office hours.

A circular sent out to all government servants said : 'Disciplinary action will be taken against those who fail to comply with the order'. The new rule was necessary in keeping with Singapore's efforts to improve its standards of 'cleanliness, hygene and appearance'.

The rule never affected me and I must have been behind the times because I didn't grow my hair until at least 1972!

It's funny how these things stay in your mind though and when I visited Singapore in 1990, after backpacking around Australia for 6 months, I made sure that I had a haircut before we got there. Of course, times had changed and things had moved on and I don't think they were bothered if I'd had a haircut or not!

The Singapore Pong

Singapore and Malaya had a smell all of its own back in the 1960s. With the open monsoon drains and the cluttered up Singapore River, the pong was something that I've never smelled since! With the river being full of sampans and bumboats bringing in food and other produce for the markets, everything just seemed to go overboard. This included any plastic waste, cardboard, rotting vegetables and fish, boat fuel, animal waste and all kinds of other waste. At the end of the day, when the markets had shut up shop, any rubbish lying around was either left where it fell or swept into the river. Of course, the rats loved it and there were many of them running about. There must have been tens of thousands of them back then because when I went back in 1990, even though the river had been cleaned up and was practically empty of boats, there were still thousands of rats running about, especially down by the Merlion statue.

I remember the monsoon drains in front of our house at Jalan Wijaya but I don't remember seeing any rats there ever, which is strange. Maybe I've just forgotten them, there must have been a lot of them about.

I remember the smell of Singapore more than the smell of Malaya (apart from Jason's Bay which sometimes stunk of Oxen muck!) and it's a smell that's hard to describe. I'm sure that anyone reading this blog who was there at the time has never forgotten the pong. It's surprising, even with all the injections, that none of us ever got anything more deadly than mumps and German measles, especially when we were walking around in bare feet or flip flops.

Now that Singapore has been cleaned up the smell has gone forever. However, if you're feeling nostalgic, I've discovered that it can still be found in places like Egypt and India!

The Monsoon Season

I love hearing the sound of the rain hitting the roof and often it reminds me of sitting indoors at Jalan Wijaya, when I was about 4 years old, in 1965, watching the dirty, muddy water slowly rising towards our front door during the Monsoon season. It never did come in the house and sometimes we would float small boats made out of paper in the huge puddle outside our door. I think that I've mentioned before that when we first arrived in Malaya and there was the first heavy downpour of the Monsoon season, we all ran outside to stand in it to cool down. Our Amah, Azizah, found this all very funny but we were so unused to the humidity that the first chance we had to cool down, we took it. Even after all this time, I still remember that the rain was warm as it fell. Sometimes during the heavy rains, there would be loud thunderstorms that would shake the house. They were far more violent than the ones you got in England at the time. Luckily, the monsoon drains took away most of the water but sometimes the road would be completely flooded especially further down the road where it dipped. Dad was once driving home in his Triumph Herald and the water came up over the bonnet.

Once the rains had stopped and the sun came out again, all the smells were suddenly heightened. The smell of the heated road, rotting vegetables and just about everything else you could think of, were suddenly a lot stronger. It probably sounds strange now but I loved that smell and when I've been abroad since and it's just stopped raining and the sun's come out, that smell takes me straight back to the streets of Malaya. The only other smell that does that is the odour of Frangipani which always reminds me of our holidays at Sandycroft in Penang. Maybe that's why I enjoy a good thunderstorm so much as it reminds me of those happy days that we spent in Singapore and Malaya during the 1960s.

By the way, you'll have to read my book to find out why I don't look too happy in the photo!