Before I had walked more than 20 yards along the earth track, I saw two figures in dun-coloured uniforms, different from the greens and browns of the British forces. They wore puttees and rubber-soled canvas boots, split-toed, with the big toe in a separate section from the other toes. Later I learnt that it gave them a better grip on soggy or slippery ground. Above all, what made them look strange were their soft, peaked caps, with cloth flaps at the back hanging over their necks. They were outlandish figures, small, squat men carrying long rifles with long bayonets. They exuded an awful stink, a smell I will never forget. It was the odour from the great unwashed after two months of fighting along jungle tracks and estate roads from Kota Bharu to Singapore.
— The Singapore Story (Lee Kuan Yew), Loc. 704–9