Patrolling tropical forest is no holiday even in the dry. Now it was the wet, and the sickly green scrub dripped and steamed even though the rain had paused. We were slowly growing mouldy; footrot and jock-itch thrived. Sweat dripped off my nose-tip as I balanced on a pole across a pit latrine wherein faeces and big fat maggots took up equal room. We decamped and walked up the Muda River and across to Kota Baru on the east coast. The first peacetime elections were to be held and our duty was to dampen any over-enthusiasm amongst the fledgling Malayan…