A Mighty Endeavor (75 page)
Igrat nodded while the courier part of her brain memorized the numbers. An unspoken part of her work was to keep her eyes and ears open. A street girl saw things and heard words that the diplomats and professional agents overlooked. Igrat had sensed wide acclaim among the Thai people; they looked on the victory of their Army over the French as something of a national rebirth. For the first time, Thailand had been able to extract concessions from a European power by force of arms.
She had also sensed shock and fear as realization of the terrible casualties suffered fighting the Japanese had sunk in. She had seen the huddles of men and women gathered around the news stands looking at the lists of dead and missing. When fighting the French, the lists had been barely a column long; usually less than that. The same lists for the battles against the Japanese had gone on for pages. The Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank had just moved its headquarters to Bangkok. To introduce themselves, the bank had paid the Thai Rath newspaper to produce a special supplement with the names of the dead and wounded, then to distribute it free of charge. Igrat had noted that she hadn’t seen a single copy of that supplement dropped on the street or thrown away.
Suriyothai looked at her and knew what she was thinking. “I have some documents for you to take back to Phillip. Reports on the operations here. The originals are going via the American consulate here to the War Office but I want him to have his own copy. It is essential that your military authorities know what fighting the Japanese will be like. I’ve had them microfilmed so the weight won’t break your arm.”
Igrat relaxed slightly. “Thanks, Snake. I’ve got some paperwork for you as well. My father wants to set up a business here, a cement company. We’re in partnership with an Australian, Essington Lewis. He’s one of us, by the way, although he doesn’t know it yet. We’re putting up the money; he’s supplying the expertise. He wants to set up a steel company as well. Between the two, we’ll be well placed to support rebuilding the city. We supply the cement; his company, the rebars.”
“We already have a Siam Cement Company. Phillip can buy that. We’ll sell him 70 percent of the shares, with the Crown retaining the rest. I’ll have the documents prepared for you to take back. You are going straight back to the USA?”
“Sure. Then out to Britain to see some of our friends there.” Despite the friendly conversation, Igrat was careful not to say whom. “Going to Britain needs caution these days. Every time I go there, the number of Auxiliary Police increases and they get more aggressive. Always good to take care when visiting countries where the number of people’s police exceeds the number of people’s people.”
Suriyothai snorted slightly. “It’s not taking long, is it? Phillip always said that the first steps to tyranny are the hardest and going downhill from there is easy. By the way, that reminds me. Did you get the stuff I asked for?”
“I did.” Igrat pushed a box over. “A dozen bottles. Excuse my asking, but what do you want it for? It’s not a problem you have.”
The Ambassador produced a very conspiratorial smile. “It’s just a gift for somebody.”
Natal Mounted Rifles, Nyang’oma Kogelo, Kenya
“God, this chicken is good. Makes the wait worthwhile.”
Sergeant Dirk Klaas looked at the African woman running the roadside food stand. “Look, we really are sorry about that kid. We’d have stopped if we could, but a big truck like that, towing a gun....”
It had been a simple road accident, almost mundane. The column of South African trucks had been heading south, on their way to an embarkation port, when a young child had run right out in front of the convoy. The lead vehicle had absolutely no chance to stop. It had run him over. The vehicle behind had done the same and so had the one behind that. By the time the convoy had stopped, the child was very obviously very, very dead. The local police had arrived and started to take statements, but Klaas had noted nobody seemed to care very much. One woman was weeping quietly, but that was all. From her age, she was probably the child’s mother.
“Don’t you distress yourself, Sergeant.”
Klaas noted she had his rank right and spoke good English.
Mission-taught, no doubt.
“Nobody liked that little monster. Uppity child, always telling everybody what to do. More chicken? I can do you a special price if all your men buy from me.”
The South Africans were milling around the market place while the accident report was finished. The chicken stand was, in Klaas’s opinion, by far the best food there. “I’ll tell you what, Mother. You give us a right price, and we’ll buy enough to eat now and also for our meal this evening.”
The woman beamed at the polite address and named a price. Klaas called his men over. She had a plate of samples waiting. They were enough to convince the platoon that this was indeed a deal that should not be missed. A few minutes later, the stand was the scene of frenzied activity as her family got to work making up the biggest order for cooked chicken her business had ever seen.
“Sergeant?” A painfully young South African officer was calling him. “The police have finished interviewing the truck drivers. They are reporting this as a sad accident caused by a child not being taught to respect traffic properly. Between you and me, most of the village does not seem too sympathetic to the family and the child was very unpopular with the others here. Anyway, the division has made a compensation payment to the mother and that has closed the affair. You organized all this chicken for your men? Good move; spending money like this will soothe any hurt feelings in the village.”
“It’s really good chicken, sir. Try a piece.”
The officer did so. a look of sheer delight spread across his face. “My God, man; you’re not joking. Mother, when this order is done, can you make up another for me? The divisional headquarters will have a feast tonight.”
“It will be done, sir.” The woman watched her children redouble their efforts to increase grilled chicken production while making sure they didn’t take short cuts that would affect the quality of her product.
Around the back of the hut, the execution of chickens was reaching holocaust proportions. The family head was ecstatic at the sheer volume of business. He was already working out how to build his family a new home on the profits. He suddenly realized this could be the start of something big. He called out to his wife, “Nyarai, look after our guests well and they will bring many more back. And give the sergeant and his officer some free bottles of beer. You see, that horrible little boy was of some use to the village after all.”
Lieutenant Piet van der Haan was careful to hide his smile. As divisional intelligence officer, he spoke Kikuyu perfectly.
Jarcline Mutheson House, Thanon Witthayu, Bangkok, Thailand
“And so, Madam Ambassador, I would like to formally welcome you to the new headquarters of Jardine Matheson. We’re up and running as the formal headquarters of the Princely Hong as of today. All our key staff and all our records are here. Our agents and clients know that this is where the decisions are made. All the other Hongs are either already here or following. By the end of the year, there’ll be nothing left in Hong Kong except empty buildings.” Simon Keswick hesitated; leaving anything behind for the Japanese upset him. “I wish we could bring them over too.”
“Have you somewhere comfortable to live?” Suriyothai well understood how valuable this alliance would be and it had to work. As much depended on this as it had on the war in Indochina.
“A very fine household, rented on a 99-year lease. And the accommodations you have found for our Chinese staff are more than acceptable. You have worked hard for us, Madam, and your efforts are appreciated. As are those of your army.” Keswick spoke the latter with a dry sense of humor.
The Japanese Fifth Division wouldn’t be capable of doing anything other than rebuild itself. Another division would have to be moved to Indochina to replace it. That meant the planned operation against Hong Kong would be delayed for months. The time so bought had been invaluable in making an orderly move. “I am sure Swire, Hutchinson-Whampoa, HSBC and all the other Hongs will be equally appreciative. It is a pity Lloyds of London have chosen to center their international operations on Bombay, but they were already established there ...”
The Ambassador looked out the window at Thanom Witthayu and the construction work going on. The canal down the center had been filled in and
the road turned into a modern, hard-surfaced, divided highway to join the city’s
administrative center with the explosively growing international business area here. Across the street, the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank had its ‘headquarters’ in a dilapidated wooden house. They had gone to great lengths to be the second Hong to make Bangkok its home. Next to that existing building, foundations for their new office block were already being poured.
Less than a year into the great revolution she had planned and already her city was being fundamentally changed. The buildings going up were a symbol of that. Once, at six stories, this office building had been the largest in the city. It would be dwarfed by the new ones going up along Thanom Witthayu and Thanom Sukhumvit. Already, Jardine Matheson were planning a new and much larger headquarters.
Phillip is right; we are going to need a lot of cement.
There was a copy of the latest issue of
Life
magazine on the conference room table. The cover picture had been taken by Robert Capa. It showed a Thai infantry sergeant bayoneting a Japanese officer. Capa had caught the moment perfectly. The sergeant was in a classically perfect bayonet thrust. The long blade transfixed the officer; its end clearly visible beyond the man’s back. The officer was arching backwards from the force of the thrust; his cap hurled from his head and his sword flying through the air. The caption ‘Japan Meets Its Match’ was, in the Ambassador’s opinion, premature. But,
Life
hadn’t had access to the long casualty lists from the 11th Infantry to temper its judgement when the front page had been set.
“You kept your promise, Highness.” Keswick looked at the picture also. “All your promises. Your Army fought better than anybody expected. But, I do not think that sergeant will sleep well for many nights to come.”
“You are not concerned about our new Prime Minister?” The change in government had been politically essential, but she was worried about the effects it might have on the business community.
“Khun Pridi? Not at all. He is a good and honest man, an excellent Prime Minister. And one who knows his duty.”
The Ambassador and the Taipan smiled at each other. As always, they understood each other perfectly.
Room 208, Munitions Building, Washington, DC, USA
“I know Pridi. A good man, he studied law at the Sorbonne.”
Cordell Hull was ready to acknowledge the merits of a fellow-lawyer. The result of the elections and the ensuing peaceful transfer of power from the National to the Democratic Party had surprised him. He had honestly expected the National Party to win a massive majority, even without rigging the results. That it had not done so forced him to admit that he had seen everything he could have wished, a democratic government, the Japanese defeated and their allies driven back. The situation in the region had been stabilized; temporarily, at least. Even more importantly, with its back door protected, the Indians had felt secure enough to turn a blind eye to the supplies being shipped into Rangoon and then sent to China via the Ledo Road.
“Very progressive in economic matters.” Henry Morgenthau echoed Hull’s feelings. “I have their initial list of proposed purchases from the line of credit we are extending to them. Almost all civilian-sector industrial development. New power stations figure prominently. They want an asphalt plant for road construction and a new University. The University of Chicago has been approached to partner with them and set up their courses. They are also asking us for funding to set up an institute to research and develop snakebite antitoxins.”
“No military equipment?” Stimson was curious.
“Some. Biggest item is 24 DB-7C torpedo bombers for a new naval air arm. They’re the same as the ones the Dutch ordered for the East Indies. Otherwise, they are ordering some more tanks in addition to the M2 lights.”
“Which ones?” Stimson was worried about that. The U.S. Army was desperately short of tanks itself. Even losing a hundred of the obsolete M2s had been a painful blow to an army that was frantically trying to mechanize.
“They want enough M3 medium tanks to equip a battalion.”
Stimson sucked his teeth. He didn’t think much of the M3 design; it was an interim product until a better vehicle was designed, but it was the only medium in prospect for a while. “We’ll have to take that under advisement. The DB-7Cs won’t be a problem. Anything else?”
“Artillery. They want our 105s.”
“So do we. We can ship them surplus French 75s instead. That it?”
“They want more fighters in the longer term; they’re asking about Republic P-44s or Bell P-39s. But they say that can wait, since they have problems absorbing the new aircraft they have. There’s another thing coming up. We’re picking up rumors that the Dutch East Indies, Australia and India are all being approached by Japan for supplies. Oil, rice, food, iron ore and so on. And those countries are responding. Viewed objectively, they don’t have much choice of course. They can’t sell to anybody else and Japan can’t buy from anybody else. Good question whether it’s a buyer’s or seller’s market. But, Cordell, we’re going to have to admit that any trade embargo we mount against Japan is going to be very leaky.”
“Have you read the reports we got from that battle on the Mekong?” Stimson shook his head in disbelief at what he had read. He had a copy of
Life
magazine in his briefcase. The article on the battle, illustrated by Capa’s stark pictures, had shocked him. “We’ve had a lot of reports back from China, but nothing like this. This is the first time we’ve seen the Japanese defending against a counter-attack from a modern army. The Japanese simply didn’t retreat and they didn’t give up. They had to be killed in their foxholes, one by one. We haven’t seen that in China, probably because the Japanese haven’t faced a defeat of this scale there, but the reports are chilling. They took no prisoners; they just killed anybody who tried to surrender, including their own people. Not that they had much occasion to do the latter. Their infantry just didn’t surrender. No quarter given or taken, even when they faced flamethrowers. Towards the end, they’d been driven back on to a spit of land with no way out. The survivors just kept charging the Thai positions until they were gunned down. We’re going to have to accept that if we go to war with them, it will be bloody.”
There was a moment of silence in the room that was broken by a thoughtful Cordell Hull. “Well, that brings us to you, Phillip. How’s the study of the German synthetic fuel business going?”
Short Sunderland Mark 1
F-Freddie,
Approaching Sydney Harbor, Australia
“It looks like we’ve made it home.”
Squadron Leader Alleyne was making his final approach to the flying boat landing area. He realized just how homesick he was. The twelve Sunderlands of his squadron were strung out in a long line and he could sense the urgency of the crews. The flight from Aden had been a long one, punctuated only by refuelling stops.
“Any idea what we’ll be doin’ next?” Andy Walker sounded as if he badly needed some sleep. He did; so did everybody else in 10 Squadron.
“Word is, we’ll be based in Queensland. We’ve got quite a maritime empire formin’ and we’ll need ta patrol it somehow. I dunno if we’ll keep these old sheilas, but I doubt if that’ll be possible. Where we goin’ to get the spares from? We may end up flyin’ Catalinas instead.” Alleyne swung the Sunderland on to its landing run and felt the bottom of the hull kiss the water. The aircraft lurched and bounded a couple of times with the chop on the water, then settled down into a smooth glide through the landing area.
“You really think we’ll be flyin’ Catalinas?” Walker didn’t sound impressed by the idea.
“11 Squadron already has them. They were supposed to be gettin’ Sunderlands. We’d better make the most of these while we have them.”
GHQ, Middle East Command, Cairo, Egypt
“The Italians are keeping their side of the agreement.” General Henry ‘Jumbo’ Maitland Wilson sounded relieved. The great fear across Middle East Command had been that the peace agreement with the Italians would break the momentum of Operation Compass and allow the Italians to regroup. If that happened, they still outnumbered and outgunned the Desert Rats. Maitland Wilson was quite sure that, had the war resumed, it would not have been so easy a second time. But, the news from Libya was quite unequivocal. The Italians were withdrawing all the troops not needed for the security of their colony.
