On our way out of Port Dickson after a very brief holiday (too brief. A bit longer would have been nicer…maybe), I would have thought it would be a marvel (yes, marvel, not “marvelous”) to visit the military museum.

When Jeannie and I were relaxing in our hotel room, the late night before, after a fairly long day of gallivanting the town and coast road, soaking in all the sights, and whatever they may be; we planned our activities for the next day. After breakfast, Jeannie was going for a walk on the beach. Which meant that I was going for a walk on the beach, too.🤣

I, in the meantime, heard there was a military museum, nearby. It was on our way back home. It was a military camp, too; one which my dad was based at when he was in the army. This was somewhat visiting the past.

Many years ago, as my siblings and I were growing up, dad and mum used to talk about their time in Port Dickson.

Dad and mum were a young couple with two children at that time. Dad was a young military officer, stationed at the army base, here in Port Dickson. My late sister was 2 or 3 years of age, and I, a year 4 days (to be precise) younger than her.

Mum used to talk about us living in a house with no roof. I cannot really imagine a house with no roof. Come to think of it, I never asked her what she really meant by “house with no roof”. I thought she was joshing about it. Now, that she has moved on in age, I don’t think she will remember telling us this. I think I will ask her the next time I meet her. I think I will ask dad because his memory is still pretty sharp.

Another thing that mum used to talk about this house they lived in was that they could see the sea. I have been to Port Dickson on many occasions and tried to locate this house along the coast road that ran along the… sea (coast road…), yet I never found it.

About 25 years ago, just before our daughter, Laura, was born; Jeannie and I brought my dad and mum to P.D. for a short holiday. Their last trip to P.D. was nearly 28 years before that. While we were in P.D. on that trip, I thought it would be a capital idea for them to visit the houses on the army base where we lived for a short period of time about 40 years before that. We were going to try and locate them because I did not know how exactly to find them. So, we had to rely on dad’s and mum’s memory. Then again, P.D. had changed quite a lot since then, with highways and many new buildings. There were no Waze, Google maps or other devices back then. We did not come equipped with a map, as this house finding expedition was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Surprisingly, dad directed us to the army base, first the one on the left (as the base was split in the middle by the main highway road); where they lived in a semi-detached double storey house. It seems Uncle Al (Albert Atkinson, dad’s brother) stayed in this house with us, there. His mode of transport then was a Lambretta scooter. He must have been very hip then (still is) , riding on his Italian scooter, with the wind rushing past his hair, along the coastal roads, along the Straits of Malacca coast line. There was a Chinese family living there at the time of our visit.

We, then went to the second house which we lived in a later period, from where the sea could be seen. Again, dad directed us to house with sureness as though it was their everyday route. Again, I am reminded that dad & mum last stayed in this area over 40 years ago, and that the landscape must have changed quite dramatically (I think) since then.

This house, a single-storey bungalow, was at the far end of the base, on a hill. It was fenced up with a sign in Malay, indicating it was occupied as a sort of office now. Tall trees had grown towards what would have been the view of the sea.

We could only imagine what it was like 40 years before then. The house, the furthest tucked away (more like literally) on top of the hill. I can imagine ( I am trying to imagine) a house with no roof…maybe, partially roofless for a short period. Come to think of it, I must ask dad and mum about this, to get more details…if they still remember.

The house, as we see it today, 60 years and more; has been refurbished and looks like a nice place to stay, what with its lush-like, slope(y)-hilly, neatly manicured lawns, with tall trees lined along the parameter of the base, providing a shaded sort of fencing. The downside to this is that you can’t see the straits of Malacca now.

We thought it was a great idea to promote my book, SPARKS OF JOY – SEIZE THE MOMENT; here, showing a picture of dad when he was a young military officer. It is in the first chapter of the book. Get your copy of the book and read all about it. I think it was here, in this house; that dad bestowed the title “foghorn” on me – because I was a wailer (most likely influenced by Bob Marley’s music).

If, I, at the age I am at now; would I live in these parts? I am not too sure. The quiet, the calm, the slow lifestyle, no distractions from any kind of screen (including television – not available in Malaysia back then), screaming “watch me” or “look at me”; it would be a challenge. Days would seem longer, nights longer still; if compared to the days of today. It definitely would be an interesting idea.

Though we had visited a military facility (I wondered if I was ever going to use the word “facility” in reference with the military – “military facility” quite commonly used in American movies) – the military museum, I am always one to be a proponent of peace.

As we took one final look, calmed down to a silent calm…we can hear the waves from the ocean rushing quietly up and washing on the beach of Port Dickson / shores of Peninsular Malaysia; then, disappearing quickly… some of it remaining on the shore, the rest going back out to sea, and seconds later; the whole process repeats itself, again and again.

Latest! Latest! Latest!

As I had just completed putting pen to paper or keyboard typing to computer on this article; I stumbled on some old photographs while looking for some photographs for another article I am going to write about.

Pictures of Yester-year

I was just about piecing this essay together, and I went through, rummaging some old stuff for a new article I had in mind, when I stumbled across these photos, the ones below.

They were taken on our first visit there with dad and mum when on a trip down memory lane for them. These were pictures of the quarters we lived in, as per my little story above. In those days, way back (and I mean way back) when smart camera phones were not the rage… not even invented yet (I think), in the year 2000; we had to use thing-a-ma-jig cameras, the actual ones to take photographs.

At that time when Uncle Al was staying with us, his mode of transportation was a Lambretta scooter, a white one, with light blue side cowlings. When we visited the first house, which was a double-storey, semi-detached house, one of the first things dad and mum remembered was that Uncle Al (this was a prominent statement) used to park his Lambretta in the garage, which was a separate building at the side of the house. Who knows… Uncle Al and Uncle Ronnie (dad’s youngest brother, who also had a Lambretta or a Vespa [they were both quite similar scooters]) may have been inspired by P. Ramlee (1) and Saloma (2) movies.

The picture below, with mum and dad at the bungalow, which looked refurbished, but was showing signs that it must have been quite a while ago.

NOTES:
1. Port Dickson is a town, with long beaches, in the state of Negri Sembilan, Malaysia.
2. Teuku Zakaria bin Teuku Nyak Puteh, better known by his stage name P. Ramlee, was a Malaysian actor, filmmaker, musician, and composer. Born in Penang, Malaya, he is regarded as a prominent icon in Southeast Asia. P. Ramlee’s career in the entertainment industry spanned from the late 1940s until his death in 1973.
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3. Saloma (Salmah binti Ismail, 1935–1983) was a legendary Singaporea-Malaysian singer, actress and fashion icon, celebrated as the “First National Songbird”. Known for her sweet, “lemak merdu” voice, she was the wife of legendary artist P. Ramlee and a major star in 1950s/60s Malay cinema. She is also honored by the Saloma Link bridge in Kuala Lumpur.