A Mighty Endeavor (30 page)

About half way down, the rear gunner in the Italian aircraft must have spotted the two Furies. A stream of red tracer dots poured out of the rear position, searching out van Bram’s aircraft. The lead Fury held its fire, though, van Bram ignored the tracer lights all around him, until he had closed the range to nearly point-blank. Then van Bram fired. A long burst from his twin Vickers guns abruptly ended the fire from the Ro.37’s rear gun. Bosede dived below the Ro.37 and came up from underneath, firing a burst from his twin guns into the reconnaissance aircraft’s belly.

The two fighters swerved away. The Ro.37 streamed black smoke from a damaged engine. Bosede was expecting to make a second pass; van Bram pointed upwards. A formation of four biplanes was already closing in. They were instantly recognizable: Fiat CR.32s. Bosede knew their reputation from Spain. Not as fast as the later CR.42, but extremely agile. Even one on one, they were far more than a match for the old Fury. He was quite relieved when van Bram broke off the attack and headed south. Unwilling to get involved in a long tail-chase, the Italian pilots formed up around the damaged Ro-37 to shepherd it back home.

Following the river worked. The rich foliage that surrounded it was visible from a long way away. It was simple to find it and then head south. After landing, Bosede climbed out of his Fury and stretched. It all seemed a waste of time somehow, and he said so to van Bram. His flight leader didn’t agree.

“We saw off a reconnaissance aircraft and that helps our broere on the ground. As long as we do that, the Italians will keep their fighters escorting the other aircraft and not have them running free to hunt us down. So we did a little good work today. Not much, perhaps, but a little. We are doing what we can and we will continue to do so until help arrives.”

Cabinet Room, Government House, Calcutta, India

“Railways. Now there is a problem to conjure with.” Sir Martyn Sharpe had an almost dreamy look on his face. In his youth, he had wanted, more than anything else, to be a train driver. Even today, he had an abiding fascination with the operation of steam locomotives mixed with a genteel dislike for their diesel equivalents. The idea of rebuilding an entire continent-wide railway network was immensely appealing to him.

“We already have made a good start on building a railway network.” Pandit Nehru objected and bristled slightly. Railways were a sore point in the Indian Congress Party; one on which everybody disagreed with everybody else over everything.

“A start, yes; but hardly a good one. We have railway lines built in four different gauges: narrow, meter, standard and broad gauge. They don’t link up well and the track-beds are so light they can’t take heavy freight. It’s a frightful mess. We need to have a strategic plan for the development of our railway system. Communications are key to modern development.”

“Once again, we see the need for a controlling interest by the state.” Nehru was hard-wired to see state control as the answer to every problem, but in this case he had almost total agreement. The chaotic state of Indian railway development could not be allowed to continue. Each princely state had built its own railway system; its configuration had been decided by the whim of the Princes. So had the routes followed by the tracks. They also had more to do with the wishes of the Prince than economic necessity. The investors who had built the lines had been guaranteed a five percent return on their investment by the government, so the financial viability of the lines had been of no great interest to them.

“In this case, you have an excellent argument, but there is a problem here. Under the 1849 agreement with the railway promoters, the railways built by them are to remain their property for 99 years. At which point, they will pass, without compensation, into the possession of the Government, which will have to pay for the machinery, plant and rolling stock. We can purchase the railway in question earlier by paying the full value of the capital stock and shares. Alternatively, the railway companies can surrender their line to us by giving six months notice and claim repayment of all the capital invested. We simply cannot afford to do either. We are barely surviving at the moment as it is. This kind of additional burden will finish us.”

“There is always nationalization without compensation.” Nehru liked the sound of that and knew it would resonate with the membership of his party.

“There is indeed.” Sir Martyn agreed. “But we have a problem there as well. The vast majority of the funding for Indian railway development came from England. For all practical purposes, Indian capital played a negligible role in building our railway system. The capital that came from England to India for railway construction formed the largest single unit of international investment in the 19th century. If we suddenly nationalize that without compensation, it will be a massive blow at the English financial system.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Nehru was growing heated. “The railways destroyed much of our native industry. Traditional Indian goods have been replaced by factory-made items imported from England and distributed cheaply by rail. The construction of the railways created employment for coal miners, steelmakers and machine forgers in England, not India, and converted our countryside into an agricultural colony of England. The railways were not a commercial success until the early part of this century, yet the losses were not borne by the investors who built them but by the government and thus the Indian people. It is time those monies extracted from us were recovered.”

The silence in the cabinet room was profound. The subject of the railways themselves was almost immaterial compared with the yawning gap in perceptions that had been revealed by Nehru’s speech. It had literally never occurred to any of the Europeans present that the construction of railways had been anything other than an undiluted blessing for India.

“Perhaps this is an area in which we should advance carefully? The first step should be to arrange for the consolidation of the existing railway system into a number of regional railway authorities. The existing railway owners can be given shares in the new railway authorities proportionate to their investment in the original lines. Then, as we invest further in those authorities, bringing the lines up to a common standard, the government’s shareholding will increase. Thus, when the existing agreements expire in 1948, the transfer will have been completed in a proper and orderly manner.

“We
must
be wary that we do not alienate any of the likely investors in this country. Our economic success depends on attracting them into our fold and we should not mortgage that prospect by hasty action when, in eight years, the assets will fall into our hands anyway.” Sir Martyn looked around the room. The majority of the occupants seemed to accept that concept, although Nehru was still agitated by the mere mention of railways. It was probably a good time to move on.

“I do have some good news to relate. We have received word from Canberra, Johannesburg, Wellington and Ottawa that the proposed meeting of the heads of the Commonwealth countries is to go ahead and that our proposal that Jamaica be the locale for the meeting has been accepted.”

“i thought that Bermuda was our first choice?” The Marquess of Linlithgow sounded surprised.

“It was, Your Excellency. It was pointed out that Bermuda posed certain security risks should the Germans get wind of the meeting, as they undoubtedly will. A well-timed commando raid and our enterprise would end with us all inside a German prison. Jamaica is a much more secure and inviting location and has better meeting facilities anyway. We amended our proposal to Jamaica and it was enthusiastically accepted. Britain will be represented by Mr. Churchill, of course. The United States will be attending as observers.”

“Is that necessary?” Leon Arnold Fitzgerald sounded distasteful. Of the current members of the Cabinet, he was the one closest to Sir Richard Cardew in outlook. So much so that Sir Eric Haohoa was keeping him discretely watched.

“Indeed it is. It is, after all, the disposal of British equipment produced in America and currently held under embargo there that will be the subject of much discussion. We cannot ignore the fact that those discussions will be meaningless without American agreement. There are other issues that we must raise with them as well. The American government has intimated that it can make funds available to us on very reasonable terms, provided they receive certain assurances about our future position.”

“That means staying in the war, I presume.” Nehru was beginning to calm down.

“Of course it does. The Americans will fight Germany to the lives of the last Commonwealth soldier.” Fitzgerald spoke with scorn dripping from every syllable. Sir Martyn was disturbed to note how much agreement there was with that sentiment.

“They may not get that chance. I hope nobody believes that this war will be ended quickly or will pass anybody by?” Lord Linlithgow had a note of reproof when he spoke and it made its mark. Several of those who had partially agreed with Fitzgerald looked shamefaced about it.

“Pandit, I would like you to lead our delegation to the Jamaica conference. I have far too many commitments here to be able to go there myself, and, I believe, your presence there would highlight the new road down which we hope to take India.”

Nehru’s agitation from the railway issue evaporated as the realization he would be representing India at a Commonwealth conference. What that meant in the broad perspective of things sank in. In a very real sense, it was a partial fulfillment of a life’s work. Watching him, Sir Martyn decided that Pandit Nehru had a lot to learn about what went on at international conferences.

Short Sunderland Mark 1
F-Freddie,
Over the Red Sea

“Have you seen nothin’ down there?”

The Sunderland was cruising about a thousand feet up and maintaining barely a hundred knots. Experience over the Atlantic in the first phase of the war had taught crews that this was the optimum combination of speed and altitude when searching for U-boats. Low altitude to improve the chance of eye-balling a submerged submarine and reduce the chance of being seen by a surfaced one; low speed to stretch fuel reserves out to the maximum possible. Guy Alleyne knew his job very well indeed.

“Nothin’ yet.” An Italian submarine had attacked the New Zealand cruiser
Leander.
The torpedoes had missed their target. Radio intercepts picked up a message from the submarine
Galileo
claiming to have torpedoed a battleship. That had caused some mirth back in Aden from those who hadn’t tried to work out the chaos of a naval action. The crew of
F-Freddie
had; they knew the problems of identifying a target and determining how much, if any, damage they had done.

“Any more word from the Mad Bomber?” Andy Walker down in the radio compartment sounded genuinely curious. He had been the radio operator on duty when Arthur Harris had sent the squadron a preemptory order to return to Alexandria for service as night bombers.

“Nah, he gave up the ghost. I heard Wavell put him in charge of the Bristol Bombay fleet to keep him quiet. Damned drongo sent them off to bomb the harbor at Tobruk and they didn’t get a bomb within fifteen miles of the place. He’s been quiet ever since.” Alleyne wasn’t particularly worried. There had been a telegraphed set of orders for him in Aden. His government had told him what to do and where to go. More importantly, it told him who to obey and, implicitly, who not to. That trumped everything else. The most valuable part of it had been the simple fact of its existence. It had told him they were still part of something, not forgotten wanderers trying to find a home somewhere.

“You reckon that sub will still be around here? The Huns would have cleared off by now.”

“He’ll still be around. He’ll want a second crack at that cruiser. If he really reckons he hit her, he’ll want to finish her off. If not, he’ll want to try again. Either way, he’s around here somewhere.”

“Boss, I got somethin’.” Chris White was the portside lookout, using the beam machine gun hatch as an observation point. “Three o’clock; right on the horizon.”

“Good on you, Snowy.” There was a long pause while Don Clerk, the starboard lookout, crossed over and checked on the sighting. “Snowy’s right, Boss. Connin’ tower on the horizon; enemy one by the look of it.”

“Stand by for attack. All gun crews ready. Midships crew, open the side ports and wind out the depth bombs. Fuzes set for 25 feet.”

The casual atmosphere had completely vanished from the Sunderland. The two side hatches under the wings were already opening up. In the bomb room, the 250-pound airborne depth charges were fuzed and attached to the racks. The racks were then wound out on rails under the wings. Alleyne already had the throttles forward, pushing the Pegasus engines as hard as was prudent. Aden was a long way from the easy availability of spare parts; stressing the engines would be short-sighted, to say the least.

White’s original sighting had been accurate. It was a submarine. Alleyne quickly put together the recognition details.
Single gun forward of a small conning tower; she’s German. Bad luck for her she’s not the one we were lookin’for.

“You reckon the poor dumb bastards are asleep down there?” The distance was closing quickly and White had an almost proprietorial interest in the submarine.

Suddenly, the submarine was surrounded by spray as she started to dive. In the North Atlantic, the Sunderland crew had become used to rapid dives from German submarines. Alleyne was astonished at how slowly this one was starting to submerge. The conning tower was almost certainly deserted. He opened fire with his nose guns anyway, lashing the submarine with the streams of tracer fire. The submarine was supposed to mount a 20mm cannon and a 37mm gun; there was no trace of return fire from them.
Most likely, the German elected to dive rather than fightin ‘ it out on the surface and thought he had more time.