Memories kept coming back. The year 1945. The month probably July, the month the Japanese surrendered in Malaya. Me just about six years old. All the time during my growing up period I watch the red and white Japanese flag flying everywhere but suddenly I saw none. One piece of memory that is vivid that happens just before the war end is the day my my dad holding my hand and run to take cover under the rubber trees near the house when we saw a Japanese plane flying overhead. I still remember this happening as clear as though it happened yesterday. Another incident is a time after the war when I went to see my uncle who live at Batu Sembilan, near the Kuantan Airport. On the way I saw a small Japanese Air plane that had crashed on the roadside still with the remains of the pilot in the cockpit. Amazing these two incidents are etched in my mind as vivid as ever. [Image on the left is taken from the Internet.]
Have a nice day.
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