Chris Pritchard discovers that war is big business in peaceful Sabah. War history, that is…
On previous trips to Sabah in Borneo, I’ve sampled many of the Malaysian state’s celebrated activities. I’ve watched orangutans and proboscis monkeys swing between branches and seen Borneo elephants emerge from jungles. I’ve dived off Sipadan Island, hiked in Kinabalu National Park (though, unlike many, I shunned climbing Mount Kinabalu), travelled aboard the historic North Borneo Railway, cruised along the mighty Kinabatangan River and strolled through downtown Kota Kinabalu’s Gaya Street Sunday Market.
But until now, I’d never experienced the Sandakan Death March, an increasingly popular diversion. I’m advised to head to Sandakan, Sabah’s modern second city – a place oozing with military history.
Sandakan is one of those exotic-sounding place names. As with Timbuktu, I’d always wanted to visit. It was almost flattened during World War II when Allied forces rained bombs to dislodge Japanese occupiers. Among the few buildings to survive is the 125-year-old St Michael’s, resembling a rural English country church but with recently added stained-glass windows honouring the war dead. Some prisoners were locked overnight in the church before beginning their forced march.
Several marches to relocate prisoners took place from Sandakan to Ranau, 260 kilometres away. More than 3,600 Indonesian labourers (imported to build an airstrip) and 2,428 Allied prisoners (many transferred from Singapore) died. Of these, 1,787 were Australian (six escaped) and 641 were Britons (all perished). Those who collapsed from exhaustion were shot or left to die at trail edges. Unknown numbers of Sabah residents were beaten, tortured or killed for aiding prisoners.
Part of the Sandakan-Ranau trail has disappeared, incorporated into oil palm plantations. Only in recent years has it lured curious foreigners. Stretches survive to be walked on, as an indicator of what these wretches experienced. After leaving St Michael’s, I head to the immaculately kept Sandakan Memorial Park, near the airport, where displays chronicle this brutal episode in military history.
Sandakan is time warp territory. For instance, at its English Tea House, old-time dance music crackles through speakers and I half expect to spot colonial planters. It proves a good place to eat, the menu encompassing British fare as well as classic Malaysian dishes.
But it’s time to begin my hike. These vary from a day to a week. Longer trips include stays in tented camps or small hotels. Evening activities encompass village feasts and cultural performances. My trek starts with an easy walk along a riverbank, followed by a sweaty 450-metre climb up Bauto Hill before piercing Gambaron Hill’s jungle trails.
It gets easier after this – or so it seems. I stand at the edge of a trail and gaze over densely forested Telupid Valley. It’s a sombre experience but one revealing some of Asia’s most extraordinary beauty. But the unfortunate POWs weren’t allowed to stop and admire the view. A guide points to a man in our tour group who is quietly weeping. “I think someone in his family died here,” he whispers. “Some come because of ties – others have no links but just want to know.”
GETTING THERE
Most air access is via Kuala Lumpur on Malaysia Airlines
(www.malaysiaairlines.com) and Air Asia (www.airasia.com) to both Kota Kinabalu and Sandakan. Kota Kinabalu has some international links, including Hong Kong. Companies running Sandakan Death March tours (starting in either Kota Kinabalu or Sandakan) include TYK Adventure Tours (+60 88 232 821, www.tykadventuretours.com) and Sandakan Spirit Adventures (+61 7 5445 2758, www.sandakandeathmarch.com.au). Many travel agents sell Death March hikes. Good resort-style hotels include Kota Kinabalu’s Sutera Harbour Resort (+60 88 318 888, www.suteraharbour.com) and Sandakan’s Sabah Hotel (+60 89 213 299, www.sabahhotel.com.my).
