they rock! im interested to know about the camo netting. It seems the CV 90 use the same camo net...is it some sort of IR, Radar reduction netting?
ggk, do you have pictures of that camo netting?
Yet another pic of the PT:
Thank you, ggk!
That is indeed not a normal camo net, at least on pic #1 and #3. But #2 might be a normal standard camo net, but it's wrapped up, so it's difficult to tell.
Some of the old times:
4th September 1957: Units of the Malay armoured car regiment on parade in Kuala Lumpur during the review of the troops by the first King of Malaysia, The Yang Di Pertuan Agong. The ceremony celebrates Malay independence.
Everyone expects visitors to come through the front door, but the Special Action Unit (UTK) is big on surprises.
Stories by ROSE YASMIN KARIM
At first, I spotted bubbles. Then, some flippers. A few seconds later, a head popped out of the water. Weighed down by tactical gear, the divers were breathing heavily when they surfaced.
Men on a mission: Hands up!
The close circuit dive is one of the infiltration methods used by the UTK to approach a stationary target by swimming to it underwater.
Boarding a hostile vessel in the open sea can be a deadly mission. Unpredictable weather and many other factors require the assault force to be mentally and physical alert at all times.
Before the attack, the force mapped out a route to gain control of the target. Once there, a collapsible ladder was stealthily put in place. Each member of the unit then scaled the target boat.
One part of the team always covers the other, so that an enemy can be taken under immediate fire. The last man in the water secured the scuba gear, but in real-life, the gear would be ditched to save precious seconds.
UTK members are trained in sharp shooting, hand-to-hand combat, parachuting and the handling of explosives. I was witness to one of their drills in Port d!ckson, Negri Sembilan.
The group was largely made up of beginners, but for the seasoned, it was a refresher course.
Hastening to the target.
We were four nautical miles off-shore. The task that starry night was to take over an enemy boat.
“The best time to ambush a target is when the sea is rough. That’s when the boat occupants remain below deck,” explained an officer, as our rubber dingy bobbed in the water metres away from the target.
Out of the darkness, a red light beamed from a distance. Seconds later, an inflatable boat ferrying 10 members of the elite force sidled up to the target. The boat engine was loud, and the sound carried through the quiet night.
Although this infiltration method is less discreet than a close circuit dive, the noise is a trade-off for speed and less fatigue. One by one, the dark knights jerked up the target boat using ropes latched onto the boat’s side. Once on board, they crouched in a straight line, weapons hoisted at eye level. As quickly as they embarked, the unit scurried through the boat like ants in a candy jar. Mission accomplished.
The boat and its imaginary occupants were taken over. It was surreal, just like in the movies, only instead of filling up on popcorn, I was filling up on exhaust fumes.
In the midst of the drama, I wished I had popped some motion sickness pills. Looking up, I connected the dots in the constellation and felt better.
Getting limber for the big mission ahead. — NORAFIFI EHSAN/The Star
After a few more rounds of the drill, the UTK called it a night. As our boat approached shore, Fifi, The Star’s photographer, and I, stood up in standby mode to hop off. We were sorting out our footing when 20 or so mighty men lifted the boat to be stowed away – with us in it. For a brief moment, I felt like a rock diva being carried over the mosh pit.
Swimming among the bestI’m glad I had the sense to borrow a wetsuit otherwise I would’ve stood out like a sore thumb in my red swimsuit.
I had agreed to join the Special Action Unit for their swim. If it got too tiring, I thought, I would just roll on my back and pray the rising tide washes me ashore.
We took off by boat to a launch point 1.5km away from the coast. Perhaps my perception of distance was distorted, because the distance mapped out in my head was nowhere as far as where we were going.
I had also underestimated my size, so the wetsuit was slowly squeezing the life out of me. After 10 strokes, I called out for someone to drag me back into the boat. Taking a breather, I psyched myself up and gave swimming another shot, this time concentrating on my strokes instead of trying to catch up with the guys who torture themselves with this exercise every other day.
After what felt like light years, I reached shore, albeit on all fours.
Any excuse to splash around the water and I’m game. After all, it’s not every day that you get to dive into the open sea from a helicopter.
Helocasting is a waterborne technique used to drop teams into an area of operation. I asked if I could have a go. Unfortunately, it was a no-go.
I was told the down force from the rotors could knock me out; risking a broken collarbone was not worth the rush. During the briefing, the jumpers were reminded to keep their ankles crossed or feet together, and hands over their chest during drop-off.
If nausea struck, jumpers were told to do a thumbs-down to signal aborting the jump. I watched from a boat as a helicopter swooped down from behind some trees, before hovering at an altitude just above the water surface at an airspeed of eight to 10 knots.
The depth of the water below was no less than 6m. The jumpers stood at the ready on the ramp of the helicopter. When the chopper reached a drop zone marked by a red buoy, they jumped off at the cast master’s command.
Upon hitting the water, the jumpers signalled a thumbs up. With little time to recover from the impact of the drop, they swam towards a waiting zodiac inflatable boat which then raced to shore.
“It is crucial to have good clearance on the push out the door,” stressed the pilot during the safety briefing, “otherwise you risk banging against the side of the helicopter.”
The daunting image mentally prepared the rappellers for the worst. From a sitting position at the edge of the helicopter, a rappeller swung onto the rope. With the line between his feet, he began his descent, gaze fixed on the ground.
Landing on both feet, he did a smooth tumble and flashed two thumbs up to signal he was OK. The feat looked effortless, although one could only imagine what being suspended 30m in the air, from a hovering helicopter, does to the body.
“A lot is happening up there,” pointed out an officer.
“They must maintain their speed while observing the helicopter’s movement as they slide down. If the helicopter has to make a quick exit, they must know how to hang on.”
It’s not all testosterone-fuelled machismo for the elite force. In between perfecting their lethal techniques, becoming a human shield to top leaders and busting organised crime, they do have some lighter moments.
Peeling off his T-shirt to reveal a mass of hard-earned pecs, a Unit member belted out Jambatan Tamparuli, a Kadazandusun folksong, and broke into a kaamatan dance as our boat sliced through the waters of Port d!ckson.
With the UTK flaunting their skills in, under and out of the water, the bad guys aren’t safe with their backs to the sea.
- The Star -
good find! thanks
Pusasda Port ****son
thanks azri zainulRoyal Malay Regiment flag bearers march entering the parade ground.
The parade was held on the 1st of Mac 2008 at the PUSASDA Port ****son.
more from azri zainul
Malaysian Army Chief, General Tan Sri Muhammad Ismail Bin Haji Jamaluddin spend his time visiting the shooting competition sites at the Asahan Range.
Airborne officer (left), 2nd Lt. Suhana witnessing the judging for a shooting competition at the Asahan Range.