The Timor Man. Kerry B Collison

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      Nathan had smiled when he read this annotation. Albert was no fool as he obviously realized the consequences that such disclosure would have brought to them both. Nathan’s dedication had earned him the coveted star on his shoulder bringing him to the Attaché Corp’s attention immediately. His job function under the newly reorganized HANKAM was described as Intelligence Protocol. This enabled Nathan to mix with the foreigners easily. His English was poor as he had forgotten most of what he had learned under the priests. To his delight, conversing with this new Information Attaché Coleman was, indeed, a pleasure.

      Believing that he had inadvertently caught the young man’s eye, he signalled. Coleman noticed Brigadier General Seda’s wave and he returned the gesture. The General had been particularly helpful with assistance travelling to remote areas which still required military escort. Central Java and a few of the outlying provinces were unsafe for foreigners. In diplomatic terms this indicated that the Central Government was still mopping up some of the so called communist remnants in those areas.

      Coleman had witnessed the execution of one hundred and twenty seven peasants near a small kampung in the Blitar region. The Captain responsible for the turkey shoot proudly paraded some fifteen rifles, the total armoury captured, hoping the representative of the Australian News and Information Bureau would congratulate him, perhaps even send photographs of this heroic soldier to Australia for inclusion in the newspapers.

      There it would be picked up by Antara and perhaps included in the Armed Forces News. This would result in a rapid promotion for the cowboy Captain. Coleman understood this dangerous mentality and used it to improve his own position. Coleman praised the Captain, his men and their efforts to assist eradicate Communism. At first Coleman felt disappointed with himself for the hypocrite he had become. As the months passed and the horror of what had occurred in this beautiful country became apparent even he developed an affinity towards the hundreds of thousands of innocent victims who had been imprisoned on islands such as Pulau Buru and Nusa Kambangan. Rehabilitation camps appeared throughout the country and virtually a million men, women and children were ‘re- indoctrinated’ into the Panca Sila way of life.

      Along a dusty mountain track south of Blitar Coleman was disgusted to see pre-school children being instructed in the ways of the New Order, the Orda Baru . As his four wheel drive Toyota passed the newly erected kampung huts, row after row of little children were forced to stand with their right arms raised in a Hitlerstyle salute, yelling Merdeka! Freedom! in unison. These were the orphaned children of executed communists and it was here that the New Order practised its grass roots policy of indoctrination.

      The sins of the fathers . He remembered the text from his boarding school days when at least two hours each week were dedicated to the scriptures.

      Although Coleman realized he was becoming drunk he decided that another drink would give him something to do with his hands. He heard his name being called and turned towards the guest responsible.

      “Ah, there you are Coleman,” called the British Ambassador. “I wonder if you would mind interpreting for me for a moment old chap.” Coleman disliked this Ambassador intensely. He was, at best, extremely patronizing and excessively colonial in nature and, in Coleman’s view, a poor choice to send to this country.

      “Not at all Ambassador. To whom do you wish to speak?”

      “Why, this chap here of course,” announced the gnome-like figure of Maxwell Westaway, in his deepest baritone, indicating the Asian figure to his left.

      The object of the Ambassador’s attention stiffened and turned to avoid what could presently become an unpleasant incident caused by the obnoxious diplomat. The British Ambassador would not be thwarted and he grabbed the man’s arm.

      “Just a moment old fellow, I would like to ask you something. This chap here speaks your lingo so don’t run away.” Ambassador Westaway had, by this time, secured the embarrassed Asian with his left hand while gesturing for Coleman to approach closer and assist with the dialogue.

      “Coleman, be a good fellow and ask this chap if he had that dinner jacket made here or in Singapore. I’ll bet it’s a Singaporean product if ever I’ve seen one. Very stylish. Very stylish indeed.”

      The Asian gentleman diplomatically checked his anger over the Ambassador’s obvious lack of finesse but the glint in his eyes suggested that he intended scoring off the pudgy British Queen’s representative.

      Turning to Coleman the Malaysian First Secretary asked in his own language, “Are there very many more like him in Jakarta? My name is Ali bin Noor and I am the new First Secretary at the Malaysian Embassy. I overheard you speaking to our Ambassador in Bahasa Indonesia and I must admit, I’m impressed. Do you have difficulty with the slight differences in our two languages?”

      Coleman played the game.

      “I should apologize for the Ambassador. He is the epitome of the sort of racially bigoted Englishman even we Australians have come to despise.”

      The Malaysian smiled and shook Coleman’s hand warmly. He then turned to the Ambassador and announced, in precise English, “Actually, I purchased the jacket in London. If you wish, Mr Ambassador, I would be only too pleased to phone my wife in Kuala Lumpur and ask her to send the address to you.” Smiling broadly, he then excused himself winking to Coleman as he passed behind the embarrassed diplomat.

      Brigadier General Seda had overheard the exchange and he too winked at Coleman. He approached the Australian and assisted his escape from the now visibly furious ambassador. They conversed in Indonesian. “ Mas Stephen, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

      Cautiously blended with the correct tone of respect Coleman replied. “Pak Jenderal how may I be of service to you? ”

      “I have observed you and am pleased that you show simpati towards my country. One day you may need friends who are able to assist you for it seems that you are a good man. It also appears that you are not so adept at making friends amongst your own?”

      It really was not a question that required an answer. The General continued.

      “There are those in positions of strength who could be of assistance to you should the need arise. Everyone needs friends, some more than others. ”

      “Does the Jenderal include himself as one of those who may wish to assist if the need arises?” Coleman was not sure which way this conversation was heading however he intended playing the game through.

      “Yes. In particular ... .” the General hesitated, and then decided to change his approach. “The request I have really is just an idea. You speak our language so well whilst we have great difficulty with the English speaking foreigners. Watching you tonight I though what an opportunity we have for you to assist us with our English speaking courses. What do you say, Mas, would you help with some of that spare time I hear you foreign visitors have so much of here in Jakarta? ”

      Coleman was conscious that the request was not necessarily being made for the General. He decided to play along, accept the challenge as he could always drop out, if it became too involved.

      “Yes, of course, I would be pleased to participate in such a program. Why don’t we discuss it formally, next week?”

      “No. I don’t think so. I would prefer an informal discussion to define the possible areas of cooperation before proceeding to an СКАЧАТЬ