Reminiscence of an Old Putera

This is the College's Crest whose Motto is " Serve to Lead"

The recent postings and e-mails from OP Shuhud , OP Shaharudin as well as comments on my blog from OP Hamzah et al, had triggered my yearning to write about some past memories as a Putera ( previously known as Budak Boy ) in the Royal Military College ( formerly known as Federation Military College ).

What motivated me to apply for entry into the Military College was the publicity given in the newspapers about the achievements of the FMC in the field of sports and also scholastically as evident from the number of first graders in the Overseas Cambridge School Certificate Exams also published in the press. I used to watch their teams playing against the KGV on the school padang in Seremban and they seemed to have lots of stamina and I guessed it must have been the training they received on the field as well as the parade ground.

Though I was not much of a sportsman but I somehow liked to follow the news of sprinters like Shaharuddin Ali who was a record holder in the sprints at National meets. Furthermore Port Dickson, the first home of the College was just about less than an hour from Seremban and I used to pass the College whenever I go to Teluk Kemang. In fact I was only successful on my second interview after the LCE.

What made my life different from KGV School was of course the military discipline. The moment you wake up until bedtime, life is governed by the clock and the famous phrase which still sticks to my mind is " Punctuality is essential ". On looking back, not many who upon leaving the College to join civilian life continued the good habits of time keeping and being disciplined in everything they do.

I owed a lot to many friends in College for the wonderful lessons in life which prepared me for the world. It would be too many to name them and I hope they do not feel offended if I forget to mention them. The people who are the closest to you are normally your dormitory mates and those who are in the same " Company " or " Coy" for short. The " Budak Boys " who were in the same " Coy " with me included my cousin OP Mohd Basri Hamzah and OP Habibur Rahman who once served as President of the Old Putera Association.

Even when I attend recent functions at the OPA Penthouse I come across OP Hashim Hj Abu and OP Sheikh Taufik from "D" Coy. Both of them joined the Cadet Wing and graduated as Officers, the latter went on to Sandhurst, that prestigious Military Academy in the UK. OP Sheik Taufik despite having a "transplanted kidney" which he had it done in China is still his "funnybone" self whenever I meet him.What made that strong bonds of comradeship or esprit de corps amongst us was the common experience that shaped our life beginning from the "drawers" that were issued as part of our uniform and the barracks to the food in the Dining Hall right up to bashing up the Parade Square on every Saturday. Military training which followed the Drill on Saturdays and in the evening was the film show. Prep hours from Sunday to Friday started about 8.00 pm till 9.30 pm and lights out 10.00 pm.

One of the characters whom I remembered very well was Allahyarham Zakaria Aziz, whose father was Minister of Agriculture, YB Dato' Aziz Ishak. His bed was just next to mine in RMC in Sungei Besi and he always depended on my Kiwi polish every friday evening when we would be busy preparing for the Saturday Drill. The " Chaplis " or sandals which we had to wear everyday to the classroom had to be polished too, and my kiwi would last at the most was just a few weeks.

Normally in the first year as a new boy, we had to take up boxing. Somehow I had to continue boxing even to the second year. In Sg.Besi I had the late Thomas Mathews as my trainer and he was a good boxer. During the sparring sessions which I had, Habibur Rahman and the late Aloysius Choong had a bloody nose from me. But I could not win any championship even though I reached the finals for my weight and my opponent then was Raja Aman Shah ( who became the CEO of Affin Bank ).

One of the annual camps that I attended was in Kamunting, near Taiping. At a night march we lost our way and had to spend a night near a cowshed. The next morning many of us were furiously scratching our bodies and found that many had the cow ticks. Finally we came out far away from what it should have been and the leader was scolded by the others for the poor map reading.

I have to stop now and continue later since the Azan for Asar prayer is already heard on my laptop.