Report on Gerawat Nulun

I had always been intrigued by the anniversary of the Semut operatives’ landing in Bario. When Jennie Soh, a freelance writer, asked me to join her on a three-day trip to cover the news in the highlands, I jumped at the opportunity and did some homework on the history of the Semut Operation before flying to Bario on 24^th March 2015. The trip was important to me because, for the first time in my life, I would be conducting interviews.

My reading of Tom Harrison’s World Within provided me with the requisite information regarding the Semut Operation, a squad of platoons under the legendary Z Special Unit, which was part of the Allied liberating forces that came to Bario during the Second World War. Led by the writer himself, a major who would become the museum curator in Kuching after the war, the first batch of four personnel landed by parachute in Bario on 25^th March 1945. A day later, they were followed by the second batch of parachutists, among whom was H. J. Tradea, the sole surviving operative who would be present at the 70^th anniversary celebrations in 2015. They came to the highlands to rescue lost American soldiers and, most important, to mobilize the locals in a guerilla fight against the Japanese. As destiny would have it, Lawai, the chief headman, pledged allegiance to the operation and, together, they went down in history. The war advantageously exposed the Kelabits, the people of Bario, to the outside world socially, economically and educationally, and as a token of appreciation to Semut Operation, an anniversary ceremony has been held in the highlands every year since 2006.

The flight to Bario was fast and smooth, and Jennie Soh and I rested after checking into our homestay. At around two in the afternoon, we attended the rehearsal of the 70^th anniversary ceremony at the Z Special Unit Memorial Ground, where I was introduced to Mr Gerawat Nulun, my first interviewee, 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. His benign smile was infectious, and my nerves were stilled by his fatherly charm.

“My father, Aran Tuan KM,” reminisced Gerawat Nulun, “was one of the headmen summoned by Lawai to assist with the operation.” Gerawat pointed one by one to the names of every headman who heeded Lawai’s call; each was listed on a newly erected intricate memorial plaque. All the headmen, representing the top five families in Bario, were related to each other by blood or through marriage. The other headmen were Penghulu Miri; Omong Sakai, the brother-in-law of Gerawat’s father; Tama Bulan Aran, his father’s older brother; and Lun Aran, his father’s younger brother.

The landing of the Semut operatives created a great stir in the highlands, and the villagers quickly alerted Lawai, who was in his sick bed at the time. A sagacious leader who was blessed with foresight owing to his regular contact with the lowland people in his younger days, Lawai told his people not to panic and asked them to render assistance to the white people if they came holding saplings with white cloths tied to them. True to what Lawai had said, the operatives came with the same kind of walking sticks he had described, and the villagers offered them their support in their fight against the Japanese.

At the commencement of the agreement, Lawai told his people to do the following:

i.                    Take the guerilla fighters into their homes should they need a shelter

ii.                  Feed them

iii.                Help them with their logistical needs

iv.                 Help them to collect stupedos.

Major Tom Harrison gave the local young men training in combat and shooting skills, while H. J. Tradea, a medical orderly, treated the sick and injured. Penghulu Miri was appointed to teach the natives Malay so that they could communicate more easily with the Semut personnel. The high-spirited young Kelabit men who volunteered were fast learners and became competent fighters who were an asset to the white Semut operatives and a nightmare for the Japanese. Tradea’s medical treatment and Penghulu Miri’s classes bore fruit too, the villagers became healthier and well-versed in Malay, thus becoming more open to the sky-hailing commandos.

“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 of the Semut operatives so that messages could be transmitted to their headquarters in Jesselton, the present Kota Kinabalu.”

When the Second World War ended, Tom Harrison returned to Bario, where he remained for two years conducting bird observations and collecting artefacts. He continued to do his part to improve the welfare and livelihood of the Kelabit people.

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 my quest to eke out a dignified niche for myself in this world. 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 Kelabits should play in regard to the 70^th anniversary, he stated that they should keep the memories alive in their hearts and be well prepared for whatever challenges await them in the future. “To show their appreciation,” Gerawat stressed, “they should be proactive in heeding the call to national service.”

At the end of the interview, I shook hands with Gerawat Nulun and thanked him for sharing his insight. The epitome of determination, he upholds the fighting spirit of his father, uncles and ancestors in keeping our flag soaring high among the clouds.