The Eve of War
Gong
Kedak Air Base, MALAYSIA
Fighter pilots from 12 Skuadron Tentera Udara Diraja Malaysia (TUDM, Royal Malaysian Air Force)
called their reconnaissance missions to Singapore the “flights to nowhere”.
At
midnight, precisely 24 hours before Malaysia and Singapore went to war, 12 Skuadron launched a Sukhoi Su-30MKM
Super Flanker, callsign Jengking 04, from Gong Kedak Air Base for one such
mission.
The
Russian-made fighter soared into the inky black sky after a deafening takeoff
run. Cones of blue-orange flames from the jet exhausts of the twin-engine
fighter pierced the night. A thunderous roar rattled zinc-roofed kampungs and shook the farmland for miles
around as Jengking 04, the squadron’s final flight to nowhere, began its solo
mission. The Sukhoi climbed to 10,000 feet at 400 knots from its base on the
east coast of Peninsular Malaysia, its nose pointed southwest towards Kuala
Lumpur, the capital of the Federation of Malaysia. The fighter would fly its
1,000-kilometre round trip at a slow, easy pace when it could hit more than
twice the speed of sound and fly three times that distance.
Fast,
capable and headed towards Singapore unannounced, Cik Su (Miss Su), which was the nickname Malaysians gave the Sukhoi
fighter jet, was on the fifth night recon flight launched by the squadron in the
past two weeks – a pace that Markas
Angkatan Tentera Malaysia stepped up during the period of tension with
neighbouring Singapore.
Kapten Sulaiman Taufiq Abdul Bakar, a 31-year-old BAE Systems Hawk
208 fighter pilot who recently transferred to the squadron, piloted the Sukhoi
from the front seat with Leftenan Kolonel
Jarod Jonep, Pegawai Staf (Gerak)
(operations officer) at 12 Skuadron,
in the back as the Weapon Systems Officer or whizzo.
Their
target was the Republic of Singapore, a small city-state some 500 kilometres
away at the southernmost tip of the Asian continent. With just 40 hours on the
Su-30, Sulaiman was a squadron newbie. The 42-year-old whizzo from Sabah was
more seasoned, with more than 420 hours on the Su-30MKM. Jarod was an exemplary
mentor who gave the nugget his fullest attention. Cik Su was unarmed and travelled light. Her only external stores
were wingtip pods for electronic intelligence gathering. Sukhois outfitted in
this configuration were nicknamed the Growlerski.
Flying over
Malaysian territory in peacetime inside an air corridor monitored by military
and civilian ATC, Jengking 04 had several nearby Malaysian airports which the
Su-30 could use in an emergency. The night recon flights were safe, routine and
undemanding. There were no medals to be won. But pilots from 12 Skuadron enjoyed such missions as it
was an easy way to clock flying hours.
Danger came
from the risk of collisions with airliners from numerous red eye flights bound
for Australia, Europe, North Asia or the Americas in the congested airways
above Malaysia, their strobes twinkling silently in the distance like so many
fireflies. A vigilant crew and excellent visibility from the cockpit lessened
this danger.
When
Jengking 04 reached Kuala Lumpur, Sulaiman banked the fighter south to follow
waypoints on an electronic map. The Su-30 was on course and right on schedule.
The fighter traced the Malacca Strait and aimed for the tip of the vase-shaped
peninsula where the slender landform ended with the island of Singapore like a
dot at the end of an exclamation mark.
Jengking 04
maintained strict radio silence though her crew tuned in to the business-like
chatter between airliners and air traffic controllers. Cik Su had her strobes and wingtip lights switched on in accordance
with peacetime safety regulations. There was no need for stealth as allowing
the Singaporeans to see the approaching Su-30 was all part of the game.
Singapore was not told beforehand of this flight. There was no need to. This
was a Malaysian military flight operating within sovereign airspace. The Su-30
needed less than 30 minutes to reach Singapore from Kuala Lumpur. So her crew
stayed alert. The goal was to probe Singapore’s defences, not trigger the
Singapore Armed Forces into all-out retaliation.
Malaysia’s
“flights to nowhere” tested how Singapore might react to unidentified aircraft
that approached the city-state. All were launched without prior notification,
giving tiny Singapore mere minutes to react.
Puzzlingly,
previous sorties drew no apparent reaction from the Singaporeans although SAF
ground-based air defence radars must have detected the inbound flights.
Jengking 04
experienced the same lack of response that night.
Now came
Jarod’s favourite part of the routine flight when he could enjoy the night view
of Peninsular Malaysia from the Sukhoi’s roomy cockpit. Much of the flying was done straight and level with no
complicated manoeuvres. And with no need to monitor the threat warning
receivers during the peacetime mission, Jarod had time to marvel at the
splendid view around the Sukhoi. A blanket of stars crowned the black sky above
the streamlined cockpit canopy. Looking beyond the rim of the cockpit, the
night glow from the dazzling light show beneath the cruising fighter never
failed to fascinate Jarod. There was little need for navigational aids as the
Sukhoi pilots knew their way across the peninsula. And the best guide came from
brightly lit landmarks. City lights from Kuala Lumpur and big towns like
Malacca, Muar and Johor Bahru sparkled like prominent beacons, while traffic
along the federation’s major expressways stretched like golden veins across the
dark landscape, tracing the shape of the peninsula as the Su-30 closed in on
Singapore.
The view
from 10,000 feet may have been tranquil and stunning. But the serenity was
deceptive as Malaysia and Singapore were then locked in their most serious
period of tension.
Approaching
the Malaysia-Singapore border, the Su-30’s last waypoint lay seven nautical
miles from Singapore – less than a minute’s flying time to the city-state at
its current speed. When the Su-30 reached the waypoint, the fighter turned
eastward to overfly the coast of Johor. Looking over to their right, the Su-30
crew saw a carpet of lights from the diamond-shaped island shimmering from one
end of the horizon to the other. Sulaiman knew Singapore well as he studied at
one of its universities where he met his future wife. He regarded the night
reconnaissance as a homecoming of sorts as he had family on both sides of the
border. At a personal level, the Sukhoi pilot was relieved that the flight was
incident-free and he was happy to fly an easy mission.
Now came
the time for the Growlerski to work its magic. From the whizzo’s station, Jarod
activated the ELINT devices in the wingtip pods to scan the air for electronic
emissions. Almost immediately, the Sukhoi detected Malaysian ATC radars at
Senai International Airport and the surveillance radar from Skuadron 323, Malaysia’s southernmost
air defence radar unit at Bukit Lunchu in Johor. The fighter also picked up
radar signals from the Republic of Singapore Air Force radar aerostat tethered
at Pasir Laba, an FPS-117 long-range air search radar at Bukit Gombak and the
usual activity from Changi Airport’s ATC radars. Even with the ongoing period
of tension, there were no signs of a heightened state of alert or unusual
military activities from Singapore.
The Su-30
soared high over Johor Bahru, its flight barely noticed by the city’s night
owls. The fighter followed the silvery ribbon that was the Johor Strait and
flew towards the band of darkness at the eastern side of the peninsula where
the coastal plain met the South China Sea. Staying over Johor, the Su-30 then
turned north to follow the Malaysian coast back to Gong Kedak. The flight to
nowhere was back to where it began. From wheels up to touchdown, Jengking 04
was airborne for less than two hours.
Intense
activity inside Gong Kedak’s hardened aircraft shelters made up for the lack of
drama in the air. The squadron’s ground crew did not sleep that night. They
worked purposefully to prepare the Sukhois for flight. All 18 Su-30MKM Super
Flankers were to fly and 12 Skuadron
was proud of its (rarely achieved) ability to generate 100 per cent aircraft
availability.
On paper,
Singapore’s F-15 and F-16 fighter jets outnumbered Malaysian warplanes three to
one.
Even with
these odds, 12 Skuadron looked
forward to sending its Super Flankers airborne. The fighter squadron had a
trick up its sleeve because Markas TUDM
was about to make the 25-tonne fighters disappear.
Sungai
Petani, Kedah
Even by Malaysian standards,
the town of Sungai Petani in Kedah was a sleepy backwater that most Malaysians
would probably never visit. The riverside town, known fondly by its quarter
million residents as SP, was not without its attractions. These included
Malaysia’s second largest coastal mangrove reserve, picturesque rice fields and
traditional cuisine found only in Malaysia’s northern states.
Ignored by
domestic tourists, Kedah’s largest town was very much on the radar – literally
and figuratively – of SAF units assigned the round-the-clock task of monitoring
Angkatan Tentera Malaysia (ATM,
Malaysian Armed Forces) as war clouds loomed.
Based in
Sungai Petani, Rejimen ke-52 Artileri
Diraja (52 RAD, 52nd Royal Artillery Regiment) was Tentera Darat’s (Malaysian Army) northernmost rocket artillery unit
on the peninsula. Despite its distance from Singapore, Regiment 52 was high on
the SAF’s watch list.
Out of
reach of RSAF F-16 reconnaissance flights and unmanned aerial vehicles in
peacetime, when the sanctity of international borders had to be respected, the
SAF used its constellation of TeLEOS reconnaissance satellites to watch
Regiment 52’s every move. Singapore’s eyes in the skies roamed high over
Southeast Asia several times a day. TeLEOS satellites were overhead rain or
shine. They operated unchallenged and untouchable, as Malaysia had nothing that
could stop overflights by the reconnaissance satellites.
Regiment 52
was a high priority target for the TeLEOS constellation because the Avibras
Astros II multiple launch rocket artillery system that armed this unit and her
sister battalion, the Gemas-based Regiment 51, had the longest range among MLRS
systems in Southeast Asia. Mounted on 6x6 cross-country trucks, the
Brazilian-made MLRS was capable of deploying by road to any point in the
peninsula within hours.
Astros
rockets launched from the Thai border could hit targets some 90 kilometres
inside the kingdom. But the presence of Astros rocket launchers on the
Thai-Malaysian border hardly constituted a danger to Thailand’s national
security as Bangkok, the kingdom’s capital, and high-value economic and
military targets were well beyond the reach of the Astros.
It was a
different story if Astros launchers faced Singapore. If these rockets were
fired from Johor, Astros rockets had the range to soar across the mile-wide
(1.6 kilometre) Johor Strait, cross the island’s 22-kilometre width and could
reach Indonesia’s Riau islands at maximum range. If Singapore ever came within
an Astros regiment’s range rings, the tactical rocket artillery weapon could
exert a strategic influence over the entire island.
But as long
as Regiment 52 stayed where it was, Malaysia’s Astros rockets threatened no
one. Orders that sent Regiment 52 to Johor would change the delicate military
balance in a matter of hours as Malaysia and Singapore stood on the brink of
war.
Artillery,
King of the Battlefield, was about to make its presence felt.
It was a
nightmare scenario Singaporean defence planners had long dreaded – the presence
of two Astros rocket artillery regiments within striking range of Singapore
that threatened to overwhelm the republic’s defences before her citizen army
could fully mobilise.
Malaysia
knew it had the right to move its rockets anywhere within the federation. If
Singapore viewed this as a provocation, then so be it.
Malaysia
was prepared to test its smaller neighbour. Scenario planners from Markas ATM calculated that Malaysia’s
robust military posture would not cross the threshold to war as Singapore did
not have the will to fight, and Singaporeans would be rational enough to see
the movement of the rocket regiment for what it was – nothing more than a diplomatic
irritant, a political sideshow during the period of tension.
Markas ATM would soon see results of this opening
gambit.
Kem
Lapangan Terbang, Kedah
It was time for the King’s
gunners to prove their worth.
Determined
to demonstrate strength and resolve during the period of tension, Regiment 52
had orders to drive to Johor overnight at best speed. Regiment 52’s rapid
deployment was familiar to all gunners in the unit as they had practiced the
600-kilometre trans-peninsula movement many times during Eksesais Jengking Selatan (Exercise Southern Scorpion).
Confident
of executing this show of force, the gunners were eager to get moving.
In Sungai
Petani, deserted streets around the iconic clock tower in the town centre
showed why the place was seen as a sleepy backwater. As the hands on the clock
ticked towards midnight, Jengking Selatan
swung into action.
At Block 16
Kem Lapangan Terbang, Koperal Adam Aziz, a 28-year-old driver
with “A” Bateri Regiment 52, waited
inside the Bateri Alpha garage in the
armoured cab of his Astros rocket launcher after the gunners completed a group
prayer for a safe deployment. He shared the cabin with his vehicle commander
and two other gunners. A little tense yet excited, Adam clutched the steering
wheel with both hands as he waited for the order to start the engine, and hoped
that the reliable Mercedes-Benz truck would not let him down.
Follow orders and drive. Keep a safe
distance from the vehicle in front. The vehicle commander will do the rest. It
was that simple, thought
Adam as he prepared himself for the long drive to Johor.
Adam’s
parking bay at Block 16 was the first in the row of 18 covered bays assigned to
Bateri Alpha. Behind the windowless
red doors of the MT line lay the sharp end of Regiment 52: six Astros rocket
launchers, the battery’s self-propelled command post, a fire control vehicle, a
mobile workshop and ammunition resupply vehicles. The entire battery was
manned, fuelled and ready to move.
Outside the
MT line, blue strobes on the motorcycles of the military police escort from 6 Kompeni Kor Polis Tentera Diraja (Royal
Military Police Corps) cast a pulsating light show on the beige garage walls as
the MPs waited with bike engines purring.
The
departure was coordinated so that doors to the MT lines for batteries A, B and
C and Markas Bateri (Headquarters
Battery) cranked open at the same time. Electric motors whirred, cables
strained, and the heavy garage doors for the various batteries creaked as they
were hoisted up simultaneously to reveal the regiment’s full vehicle strength.
Ordered to
execute the Jengking Selatan
deployment, gunners from Regiment 52 were eager to live up to their motto, Tangkas Gempur (Agile Strike).
The
regiment expected an easy overnight drive to Johor. The weather was good. The gunners
knew the way and did not need maps or GPS. They had MPs who would help clear
the traffic. One thing that was different from practice runs was the issue of
live ammunition for their M-4 carbines. But the battery commander said there
was no cause for alarm. It was simply a precaution and orders were passed down
to keep the bullets sealed in their cardboard boxes. No one admitted it, but
the whole regiment from CO down suspected that the deployment was just
political wayang (theatre). To the
gunners, the period of tension with Singapore would soon go away. It always did
in the past.
First out
of camp were the MPs on their powerful Honda motorcycles. Bunched tightly like
racers at the Sepang track, eight motorcycles roared out of the camp as
pathfinders. The MPs made themselves seen and heard. Blue strobes on their
white Hondas flashed with blinding intensity. As the MPs sped through Sungai
Petani, wailing sirens woke up many residents as the artillery convoy rolled
through the sleeping town.
The MPs stopped
traffic for Regiment 52 to move unimpeded as the regiment had orders to reach
Johor as soon as possible. The MPs did their job with gusto. Shrill blasts from
whistles and waving light wands brought traffic to a standstill at junctions
leading to the North-South Expressway, allowing the convoy to carry on without
stopping.
Many
Malaysian gunners recalled that the deployment felt like an exercise. Regiment
52 brimmed with confidence as the gunners had trained for this moment during
numerous Jengking Selatan war games.
The geographical reference was easy to understand with Johor’s location at the
southern end of the peninsula. The Scorpion signified the link with Briged ke-Tujuh Infantri Tentera
Darat (7 Briged), which was the army brigade closest to Singapore.
As the
regiment whisked past the camp gates, two sergeants scribbled the time of
departure in their notebooks. They watched silently as the tail lights of the
convoy and the wails from the sirens faded in the distance. Regiment 52’s
operations diary showed that this was the fastest ever exit by the gunners.
The
sergeants were not gunners. They came from a secretive ATM unit called Bahagian Aplikasi Perisikan Pertahanan
or BAPP – the department for defence intelligence applications. They were at
the camp to verify that an additional task was carried out exactly as Markas ATM had ordered. Regiment 52
received specific instructions to keep the doors of the MT lines wide open. The
gunners were puzzled, but did as they were told.
The Risik sergeants noted with quiet
satisfaction that empty parking bays at Block 16 and the other MT lines
remained exposed for Singaporean reconnaissance satellites passing overhead to
see that the Astros regiment was no longer at Sungai Petani.
With
Regiment 52 unleashed, the ATM’s drawer plans moved quickly into play.
The
South China Sea
As Regiment 52 began its
drive south, a Tentera Laut Diraja
Malaysia (Royal Malaysian Navy) asset in the South China Sea also headed
for its deployment area off Johor. Under a clear night studded with twinkling
stars, the 42,000-tonne semi-submersible transport ship, MV Triumph, carried a Malaysian navy asset
to Johor at 11 knots, which was the best speed the ship’s ageing diesel engine
could sustain without overstraining itself.
Triumph took a week to sail from Semporna, off the eastern coast of Sabah,
to the South China Sea. Such was the urgency of the deployment that the
mothership sailed non-stop. Her voyage was smooth and incident-free. The
65-strong crew of the TLDM asset who joined the rust-streaked heavy-lift ship
as passengers saw the trip as an easy, routine voyage.
The TLDM
asset, fleet pennant number 15, was a floating paradox. She came under the
Malaysian navy order of battle. But she was not a warship and could not move on
her own. Her war paint was the same shade of grey as Malaysian warships. But
the floating structure might have passed as just another oil rig. The
4,500-tonne, 50-metre long oddball was what the Malaysians termed a Sea Base.
In the Asia-Pacific, she was one of a kind.
Her full
name was Pangkalan Laut Tun Sharifah
Rodziah – Sea Base Tun Sharifah Rodziah – and she was named in honour of
the consort to a former Malaysian prime minister. The floating sentinel sailed
towards a grid codenamed Daerah Maritim
ke-Tujuh or Delta Mike Seven, which was off the east coast of Johor.
Tun Sharifah Rodziah was part of a TLDM sensor-shooter
combination. Her mission was to monitor the sea lanes that led from Singapore
to the South China Sea. Contacts detected by the sea base would be passed to
the shooter – a Malaysian navy Scorpène-class
diesel-electric attack submarine – which would then persecute hostile contacts
using torpedoes and Exocet anti-ship missiles.
You could
not find a more fitting counterpart for Tun
Sharifah Rodziah. The submarine, KD
Tunku Abdul Rahman, was named after Malaysia’s first prime minister who was
Tun Sharifah Rodziah’s husband. Befitting their namesakes, the TLDM assets
would forge a powerful and productive partnership in the South China Sea – and
supported one another admirably in the upcoming sea battles as Singaporean
warships broke out of the Singapore Strait.
Confederate
Estate PALM OIL plantation, Pahang
A typical work day at the Confederate Estate
palm oil plantation began several hours before sunrise.
Some of the
first staff to start work at the sprawling plantation in Pahang were the
bakers. This morning was special as the plantation’s 86-year-old Chairman came
tottering in with his walking stick to personally inspect the bakery. This was
no ordinary bakery. It was a patisserie par excellence that was renowned for
making the finest Danish pastries and best bread in Malaysia.
The
Chairman was a Dane and a proud expatriate resident of Malaysia. He had spent
his entire working life in the federation and dedicated his life to building up
Malaysia’s palm oil industry. Along the way, the tall blond European decided to
make Malaysia his home. He learned Malay and local dialects and spoke these
fluently. The Dane raised a family with four children on the estate, lived like
the locals and treated the estate’s workers as his extended family. The
Chairman’s love for his workers was returned in kind. For many years, its
dedicated workers helped the plantation achieve one of the highest yields among
Malaysian palm oil estates.
The
Chairman was up early as the estate had special guests that morning, with more
on the way. An advance party of elite PASKAU (Pasukan Khas Udara, air force special forces) troopers from a TUDM
air base security unit called Skuadron
Kawalan Medan (Field Protection Squadron) arrived overnight. The PASKAU
platoon was assigned to protect TUDM fighter aircraft that were due to land at
the estate’s airstrip that morning.
The
Chairman was a retired Lieutenant Colonel from the Royal Danish Army and he was
always happy to welcome Malaysian military personnel to the estate.
Markas ATM activated Confederate Estate’s primitive
crop duster airstrip as part of its Rancangan Kontinjensi (RANKON)
contingency plan to disperse Malaysian fighter aircraft away from their usual
air bases. The TUDM advance party would help transform the airstrip into a
Forward Operating Base for supersonic fighter jets that were designed for rough
field operations. The RANKON dispersal plan was a precaution. It was conceived
to reduce the vulnerability of TUDM fighters in case the SAF launched
pre-emptive air strikes or artillery attacks on Malaysian air bases.
Tucked away
on a fertile coastal plain in Pahang, the plantation’s grass runway was
strategically located between Singapore and TUDM fighter bases in the centre of
the peninsula.
The old
army officer sensed that the period of tension must be quite serious for TUDM
to activate the plantation airstrip for use by its fighter aircraft.
The
Chairman was right.
RANKON was
not a measure that Malaysian defence planners initiated lightly because of the
costs involved to move around the manpower, ATM assets and live ammunition.
RANKON called for the activation of more than 60 specially designated airstrips
for fixed wing assets and landing zones for helicopters in plantations and in
the jungle. Because substantial resources were needed to prepare an austere
strip for military operations, this RANKON was triggered only under imminent
threat of a full-scale war with an aggressor.
A fierce
political storm was brewing.
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