This Merdeka, Jill Lawrence recalls life with a Special Branch policeman - never knowing when, or if, he would return safely.

Desmond served for more than three decades in the police force, eventually retiring as a superintendent. He was also deputy head of the Special Branch unit in Perak.
Long after Tunku Abdul Rahman declared Malaya’s independence in 1957, the struggle to keep the country safe was far from over.
During the Second Malayan Emergency, men like Desmond risked their lives in dense jungles, pursuing communist insurgents and helping to safeguard the peace independence had brought.
The families they left behind had to endure a different kind of uncertainty: waiting at home without knowing when their loved ones would return – or whether they would return at all.
Jill was one of them.
Desmond revealed little about his Special Branch operations, though every now and then he hinted at the danger ahead.
“Once, he told me to pray and said, ‘Jill, I don’t know when I’ll come out.’ I think he wanted to say that he could be killed,” Jill, 81, told FMT Lifestyle.

The risks of those operations are laid bare in a memoir by Special Branch veteran Paul Kiong.
In March 1981, for instance, a Special Branch team led by Desmond, Kiong and inspector Sia Boon Chee hid in darkness during a high-risk covert mission known as Operation Catfish.
Five members of the Communist Party of Malaya’s formidable Fifth Assault Unit were expected to emerge from the jungle, and the team’s mission was to capture them alive. Against the odds, they succeeded.
Strength with compassion
Desmond was also known for his gentler approach to rehabilitating captured insurgents, preferring kindness and respect over intimidation.
At home, Jill knew almost none of this. There were no calls or letters – only the long wait for her husband to return, which sometimes stretched into weeks.
She poured herself into raising their three children and into a teaching career she loved.

“I looked forward to going to school, being with the teachers and my pupils. When I came back, it was the children – there was no time for anything else,” Jill recalled.
Even so, Desmond’s absence could feel especially heavy at the end of a long day. There were nights when Jill cried from loneliness, although she never told her husband.
“When he was away too long, I would start to feel very sad. But I would try to make myself happy.”
Her faith helped, too: Jill believed “a good man will always be looked after”. And when word finally came that Desmond was returning, her sadness would give way to excitement.
“I would do my hair and wear my most beautiful clothes. I was just so excited my husband was coming back,” she shared with a smile.

One day, danger came frighteningly close to home. Their son Bernard was still in primary school when his classmate, a close friend, disappeared.
Jill later learnt that the kidnappers had intended to take Bernard because of his father’s position. “They let him go when they found they had the wrong child.”
Yet even after that close call, Jill never asked Desmond to leave the Special Branch. “He loved his job,” she said.
Over the years, Desmond received several honours for his service, including the Panglima Gagah Berani in 1983. He retired at 55 and died of a heart attack in 2002, aged 71.
More than two decades later, her pride remains undiminished.

As another Merdeka approaches, Jill hopes Malaysians will cherish the peace they enjoy today and remember the people whose service helped make it possible.
“It was a huge sacrifice. I thought the Gurkhas were really brave” – referring to the Nepalese soldiers who served with British forces in Malaya during the fight against insurgents – “and I saw that same courage in Kiong, Sia and my husband.
“They were really strong and never let fear come in. I don’t know where you can find people like that today, willing to sacrifice everything – even their family.”
Perhaps, this Merdeka, there is room to remember those who waited at home as well. - FMT

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