“Where have you two come from?” She asked one of the stretcher bearers as Watson worked on stabilising the officer’s injuries and sent his daughter off in search of further medical supplies.
“Privates Buchanan and Lawson, ma’am,” Archie answered quickly, bracing up in the presence of an officer but withholding a salute in deference to the fact that he was wearing no headgear. “We were defending the heights on Mount Nona. Lieutenant Anderson here was badly wounded, so Bill – Lieutenant Jinkins, that is – ordered us to take him down the mountain to get some treatment.”
“Aren’t there a shitload of Japs in between here and there, private?” Lloyd asked with a frown, voicing the same thought Eileen and a number of others present had suddenly considered.
“Yes, sir,” Archie nodded with a wry grin. “We was stuck up the mountain with nowhere to withdraw, and the lieutenant here was fading fast, so some wag comes up with the idea of just askin’ the Japs to let us take him through for treatment…”
“And they let you…?”
“They did, sir,” he nodded fervently. “We were as surprised as anyone, but they did all the same. When we got down the mountain, two of the buggers even helped us carry the stretcher some of the way…!”
“Helpful bastards,” Langdale observed dubiously, standing to the rear of the group.
“What about the rest of your unit, mate?” Lloyd asked, also displaying an expression of mild disbelief.
“Dunno, sir…” Archie answered honestly with a shake of his head. “They were okay when we saw ‘em last, but we were backed up to a line of cliffs and the Japs had us pretty much surrounded. Bill – the lieutenant – was thinkin’ about trying to make it down the cliff face and try to join up with the rest of C-Company, but I dunno if they actually tried it or not.”
“Fair enough, private, fair enough…” Lloyd nodded, deciding the young man had probably answered enough questions for a while. “Get some rest and a bite to eat when you can, you two: we may need you both soon enough if the Japs decide to pay us some more attention.”
“They’ll definitely be doing that soon enough,” Eileen growled, stepping away from the cluster of onlookers standing about the wounded Anderson and drawing Lloyd with her. “They’ll be looking to get their hands on that bloody bomb, sure enough.”
“Be good if we could blow the bloody thing to kingdom come before they do.”
“Aye, it would at that, but it might not do us any favours,” she observed with a grimace. “There’ll be a few kilos of extremely radioactive weapons grade material inside that bugger, and blowing it up would risk spreading that shite all over the area. Dunno how a slow, lingering death sounds to you, but it’s nae my cup o’ tea.”
“Point taken,” Lloyd nodded, deferring to her greater technical expertise. “Sink it, then, maybe: out in the bay…?”
“Aye, that might be a possibility if we’ve a suitable vessel handy,” She conceded with a tilt of her head. Turning, she cast her eyes about until she caught sight of Detmers and some of his crew, standing about under guard a few dozen metres away. “Captain Detmers…!” She called out, breaking into a short jog as the man turned at the sound of her voice and crossing the distance between them quickly.
“Captain…” he acknowledged, coming to loose attention and providing a salute as they met.
“Sir, that bomb in your hold…” she began, returning his salute at the same time. “Do you recall the weight of that cargo?”
“I did not see the manifest myself,” Detmers admitted after a moment’s thought, “but my XO may have an idea… Gustav…!”
“Mein Herr…?” Oetzel responded quickly, moving across from a few metres away with as much speed as his injuries would allow. Shirtless, the lower half of his torso was heavily bandaged, with the faint hint of a pink stain seeping through from underneath on his right side.
“That bloody thing Fuchs brought with him,” Detmers asked in German. “Did you see the manifest? How much does it weigh?”
“A little short of three thousand, five hundred kilograms, Mein Herr,” Oetzel answered without hesitation, recalling the information quite clearly. “I remember at the time thinking it was quite heavy for its size.”
“Three and a half tonnes, captain,” Detmers translated, relaying the information as Donelson carefully made no show of having already understood his XO’s response.
“Would Kormoran’s cranes be able to lift it onto the deck of another vessel,” she continued, cursing inwardly over the thing’s substantial mass, “if we were able to secure one of sufficient capacity?”
“Of course,” Detmers shrugged without a moment’s thought. “It’s been a few years, but I dare say I could operate one myself, should it be necessary.”
“It may be, captain… it may be at that,” Eileen nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve a mind to get that bloody thing out of your hold and sink it in the middle of the bay, and I may need your help to do that.”
“Those yellow bastards forced me to ground my own ship,” Detmers growled softly, nodding along with her. “If you need my aid, I’ll be happy to provide it.”
“My thanks again, captain,” Eileen nodded with a half-smile. “I’ll let you know if it comes to that… first, I need to find a big enough bloody boat…!”
Moving away from the German sailors, she paused for a moment to consider the situation, Lloyd standing by with hands on hips.
“You think we can pull it off…?” He asked softly.
“Never say ‘never’,” she shrugged. “The Japs have given us a small respite by turning north toward Halong, but that won’t last: I’d like to make the most of it while it does. Come on…” she decided suddenly, turning and clapping him encouragingly on the shoulder. “Grab your little mate and let’s head down to the wharf… maybe we’ll get lucky for a change...”
“What ‘little’ mate…?” Langdale piped up from a few metres away, distracted enough to have taken a few seconds before the comment had sunk in.
“Come on, short-arse…” Lloyd grinned, tilting his head in Eileen’s direction as she tramped off toward the beach. Langdale’s disgruntled reply was inaudible to anyone else, but nevertheless drew a loud laugh from his SAS colleague.
At Lateri, north-east of Tan Tui on the other side of Halong, a surrender of Dutch forces had already come into effect as Ritter and Schiller were shown into a commandeered school room to meet with Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Kapitz, escorted by their own bodyguards and a trio of Japanese troopers, all toting submachine guns. Seated in one corner, with a Japanese officer in attendance and a single guard, the Dutch CO was almost sprawled in his chair, his uniform torn and dishevelled, and his face dirty and streaked with soot and perspiration.
There was a large bruise above his right temple and a mostly-dried trail of blood down past the corner of his eye on that same side. The man gave the impression of being completely exhausted , possibly slightly stunned from the blow he’d clearly received, and looked to be having trouble keeping his eyes open as he conversed with the Japanese officer in slow, broken English.
“Colonel Ritter and Colonel-General Schiller,” Ritter ventured in Japanese, both men coming to attention as the Japanese officer turned away from Kapitz and moved toward them.
“Major Hasegawa,” the man responded in kind, also snapping to attention and providing a crisp bow. “The general warned us you were coming.”
“‘Warned’…?” Ritter queried with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow.
“A figure of speech, of course,” Hasegawa assured with a smile of his own.
“They’ve surrendered already?” Ritter continued, nodding in acceptance of the explanation and getting on with business. “It seems incredible that they have conceded so quickly.”
“Indeed,” Hasegawa agreed, casting a glance toward Kapitz as the man remained limp and unheeding in his chair. “Their positions here and a Paso were being pressed from two directions – us from the south-west and by 1st Kure from the n
orth – but I agree, it seems surprising their defences collapsed so swiftly. The commander here, Kapitz, has been unable to give us anything useful…”
“He was interrogated…?”
“The mark on his head?” Hasegawa queried in return, a knowing smirk threatening the corners of his mouth. “I tell you truthfully, he had that before we took him prisoner. I’ve no idea how he came by it and we’ve not cared enough to ask, to be honest. He appears to be either shell-shocked or about to collapse through exhaustion, possibly both, and he’s been of little use as a result, but information we’ve obtained from some of his junior officers suggests that perhaps they believed our forces to be greater than was actually the case. It seems there were also some significant desertion rates among their native troops, which may have also contributed…”
“And the Australians…?”
“They remain defiant,” Hasegawa answered with a shake of his head. “Intelligence indicates two companies at least to the south, here on the peninsula, with perhaps another unit of company strength across the bay at Laha. We have not pushed any further west toward the airfield as yet from Paso, but there has been some fighting near Ambon Township and Kudamati, and in defence of their positions atop Mount Nona. The general has advised he intends to call a ceasefire until noon tomorrow to allow time for the Australians to consider an offer of terms for surrender, but he wishes to secure the device aboard this freighter, Kormoran first. This is of the highest priority, of course.”
“Of course,” Ritter agreed drily, reasonably confident the officer would be unlikely to pick up on the sarcasm in his tone.
“The colonel – we need to speak to him,” Schiller urged impatiently, for some inexplicable reason experiencing a heightened level of anxiety as he stood there in that school room, unable to understand a word of what was spoken and feeling completely useless.
“Their commanding officer,” Ritter continued with Hasegawa, nodding surreptitiously in recognition of Schiller’s words. “May we speak to him for ourselves?”
“Of course, colonel,” the major agreed without hesitation. “General Itō was clear that we were to extend every possible courtesy. I may not be able to assist however: I speak no Dutch, and Colonel Kapitz clearly speaks no Japanese. My English is poor, I’m afraid, but you may try this way if you’re Dutch is also poor…”
“Your assistance is appreciated, major; thank you,” Ritter acknowledged, nodding to Schiller again and moving forward with him to approach the Dutch officer.
“I’ve seen reports about this one…” Ritter whispered softly in German, referring to Hasegawa as he drew Schiller aside for a moment. “Definitely has links with their Army Intelligence… possibly Kempetai himself, although it’s sometimes difficult to confirm. I’d bet money on him speaking English well enough, and I’d be willing to bet maybe even a smattering of German and Dutch into the bargain…” he added, raising an eyebrow in friendly warning. “Be careful what you say around him is all I’m saying…”
“I see there are a number of benefits to having you along,” Schiller smiled thinly, consciously resisting his instinctive urge to cast a surreptitious glance in Hasegawa’s direction. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“A good idea,” Ritter agreed as both men turned as one and now directed their attention toward the prisoner before them.
“Oberstleutnant Kapitz,” Schiller began, using German in hope the man might understand. “Herr Oberstleutnant…!” He repeated, raising his voice almost to a shout this time after the man failed to respond to his initial words.
This time, his voice did manage to cut through the haze of despair, exhaustion and mild concussion clouding Kapitz’ mind and the man lifted his head to stare in Schiller’s direction, eyes bloodshot and barely half open.
“Duitsers…!” He slurred softly in his native tongue, a faint tone of scorn evident in his tired words. “Jezus Christus… Duits tyfushoer…”
“In Deutsche, colonel…” Schiller growled, not fluent in Dutch but nevertheless reasonably confident that the man was saying nothing complimentary. “German or English, if you please…” he added, switching to the latter language to get his point across.
“I said: ‘bloody, stinking, disease-ridden German whores’…!” Kapitz drawled back uncaringly in competent English, throwing in a few extra profanities for good measure. “I’d thought perhaps we’d seen enough of you swine in Europe…!”
“You’ll see a damn sight more of us than you’ll like if you don’t answer our questions, you Holländischer Dummkopf…!” Schiller snarled, frustration and impatience filling his words. “You think diesen Japaner will give two shits if we order them to execute every single one of your men, with you standing right in front of them?”
“What questions…?” Kapitz demanded softly, eyes narrowing with a rage that was leavened only by his extreme exhaustion. “I have not slept in two days, and those bastards have already almost done for me with their shelling…” he added, half-raising a hand to his temple and shrugging as if he cared little for their attention. “What could you possibly ask me that you don’t already know?”
“There is a woman…” Ritter began quickly, getting the words in before his far more agitated colleague could speak. “A female officer who arrived here with the German auxiliary cruiser a few days ago…”
“Ja… ja…!” Kapitz muttered, shaking his head in a vain attempt at clearing his thoughts. “Is that all? Yes, the woman is here... what was her name…? Donner… Dönitz…?” He rambled softly, fading in and out of relative consciousness, although neither German officer was certain he hadn’t thrown in that last name intentionally as some pointless insult or barb.
“Donelson…?” Schiller asked excitedly, fortunately cutting off Ritter who had been about to ask the same question without thinking about how he might’ve know that name at all.
“Ja, Donelson… that was it…!” The lieutenant-colonel agreed with a rolling nod of his head as Ritter turned his face away momentarily to hide the sudden flash of shock over almost having given himself away. “English… no, Scottish, she was… pretty, too…” he added vaguely, rambling off topic somewhat. “She was with the Australians near Tan Tui… looking after the patients at the hospital there…”
“There was a piece of cargo on that ship; the Kormoran…” Schiller pressed hurriedly. “A device in its hold. Is it still there? Have they taken it off the ship?”
“Pah…! What do I know of such things…?” Kapitz dismissed the question with a contemptuous wave of his hand. “That damned ship was taken by the Australians and had been under their control since it arrived… I know nothing of this…”
“Then there’s nothing more you can tell us, oberstleutnant,” Schiller conceded, not entirely happy with the answer but willing to accept the honesty of it all the same. “I thank you for your assistance and hope you are looked after…”
“Waarom flikker je niet op en laat me met rust…?” Was all the colonel could manage in reply, giving another dismissive wave of his hand, and as little as either of them knew of Dutch, it was fairly clear that the remark hadn’t been friendly either.
Neither officer felt any great need to make something of it, considering the man’s unenviable position. They instead turned away, moving across to again speak to Hasegawa at the far end of the schoolroom.
“We’ve everything we need; which wasn’t much…” Ritter confirmed quickly. “You’ll look after him?”
“He’s a high-ranking officer,” Hasegawa shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “He’ll be accorded a suitable level of care. Some medical attention and some sleep would be first on his agenda, I should think, but we’re still waiting for General Itō to question him further, so perhaps not quite yet for this poor fellow…”
“We need to get to that ship…!” Schiller pressed, anxiety growing once more as the unintelligible conversation continued between the other two in Japanese.
“We could use a ride back toward the lines north
of this Tan Tui…” Ritter requested, recalling the name for the Australian barracks Kapitz had mentioned. “We wish to be present for the advance there toward the beached freighter.”
“I cannot guarantee it will be safe there,” Hasegawa pointed out mildly, “but of course, we will do what we can. Speak to my adjutant outside and he will help you further.”
“You have our thanks, major,” Ritter acknowledged, snapping to attention and giving a salute as Schiller belatedly followed suit. “Your assistance will be remembered…”
“It is my pleasure, gentlemen…” Hasegawa replied evenly, giving a short bow in return. “I wish you every good fortune in finding what you seek.”
Hasegawa watched some moments later as the two Germans were bundled into a captured, US-made jeep and driven away toward the Australian-controlled lines further south.
“Lieutenant…!” He called out sharply, the younger man almost jumping with fright as he turned and hurried over.
“Hai, Shōsa-sama…!” He barked nervously, coming to stiff attention before his superior officer and giving an appropriate bow.
“Send a message immediately to the General,” Hasegawa ordered softly, ensuring no one else was within earshot. “Advise him that our ‘guests’ are joining the advance toward the device. Advise him that they have confirmed with Kapitz that the female officer is with the Australian units around Tan Tui.”
“Hai, Shōsa-sama…!” The lieutenant repeated as confirmation, bowing again before heading off in search of the nearest radio.
The sun was lowering on the horizon as Reichsmarschall Kurt Reuters stepped onto the beach at Hutumori, ignoring the surf that lapped at his knees and accompanied by the remaining two bodyguards of their official delegation. The small motor launch backed out immediately, turning around just a few yards off shore and powering away again, headed back toward the distant Nachi.
The Dead Alone (Empires Lost Book 3) Page 71
