The reason I love my Kukri.

Once while His Highness was on annual holiday in England, far removed from political intrigues and palace coups, an uprising was attempted. British military headquarters, then stationed in Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, was alerted and quickly flew a company of Gurkhas the short distance up the coast.
Landing at Brunei airport, the little brown men double-timed into Bruneitown and soon came in view of the rioters.

Forming a thin khaki line across the lone main street, they unsheathed their kukris and stood facing the howling mob. Looking at that silent row of men, their knives sparkling in the sun, the insurgents had some fast second thoughts and slowly began to disband. The troops smartly about-faced, trotted back to the airfield and flew home to Kuching. Elapsed time to crush a rebellion-under two hours.