by Carl Muller
Carloboy stared at the ledge, at the boxes in disbelief.
‘Von Bloss,’ the man was saying, ‘I’m not a rogue. Honest. I was—I’m really in a mess. Desperate.’
Carloboy was unhappy. Eight years service. The man could make leading stores assistant in another year. Maybe he was in a hole. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said, ‘put the boxes back and get out and we’ll forget about all this. What do you say? Sorry. That’s all I can do. Otherwise, I’ll have to report you. You want to do number one and be kicked out?’ (Number one punishment was a jail term.)
Kariya tensed. He knew he had no choice. ‘All right,’ he said eventually, ‘but I’ll have to carry them back again.’
‘So? You carried them out.’
‘Can you help me? We have to do it quickly. Don’t know when the duty officer will come on rounds.’
Carloboy and Nugawira looked at each other. Supposing one of the Canadian warships had tried to make contact visually or on radio telephone ... or, perish the thought, supposing that screwball Barnett came to check on the night watch. . .
‘The quicker we put these back and push this bugger out of here the better,’ Nugawira said.
‘OK. Come on then. Are these heavy?’
‘No, about ten or twelve pounds,’ Kariya muttered.
The boxes were strapped down with leather bands. They did up the box they had opened as best as they could. ‘Right then, let’s carry them back. Don’t slip or anything for God’s sake. And don’t look down.’
Inch by inch, with every step as dicey as the one that lay ahead, they took the boxes back. It was, Carloboy swore, the slowest eighteen feet he had ever walked. Nugawira was pale when they finally stepped into the quadrangle. Carloboy wiped the perspiration off his forehead. Kariya melted away. They dated upstairs, intent on coffee.
‘He took off too bloody fast for my liking,’ Carloboy said. ‘Risking our lives like that. I wanted to kick his arse.’
‘So never mind. The stuff is there, no? Only thing is the window is broken.’
‘I think we must keep an eye on the bugger.’
‘He was shit scared,’ Nugawira opined.
‘Yes, but it was a bit too easy, the way he gave in. We should have reported—but . . .’
They watched the water begin to bubble on the small hotplate. ‘Hurry up and make the coffee. My God, it’s past three.’
The Canadian warships had been on their best behaviour. Sims came, yawning most obscenely, at five minutes to the hour. He was mystified when Carloboy told him to keep an eye on the quadrangle below the wall.
The days passed without event. The Canadian warships sailed away and visual signals watch was discontinued. The S/A too was not to be seen, nor did they seek him. In a week, the feeling of misgiving Carloboy had had, disappeared.
It was a full month later, on a bright and well-polished morning when even the Captain of the Navy had come to naval headquarters without having given his batman the customary wigging, that the bubble burst. Carloboy and Sims were in the main signals office. Nugawira and Bijja in the W/T office. The Fernandos were in the signals tower. Yusuf, having been rather obstreperous in the earlier hours of the day (it was said that he had invited Leading Seaman Ranawana to suck his cock, anytime, any day) was scrubbing the wooden staircase with wirebrush and soft soap. It had begun as a day that beamed ‘all’s well’. It is on such days that explosions and other such nasty things usually occur.
Barnett toddled in. ‘Oh, this Navy. Such swabs and cut-throats and yo-ho-hoing in every place,’ he warbled, ‘avast, you of the shining morning faces. Lubbers all, I say! The Olympus of the gods seethes. Skulduggery and piracy. Have you not, you in your sarcophagi, heard of the crushing events of the day?’
Leading Signalman Alfie cocked an eyebrow.
‘Aha! I thought as much. The signals branch. The eyes and ears of the Navy, knows naught. Have you not observed how Corey keeps dashing in and out of his office this morning?’
‘Lieutenant Commander Corey, sir?’
‘To give him his due, yes. Such a fretful flurry of a man.’
‘But what has happened, Yeo?’ Carloboy asked exasperatedly.
‘What indeed! Lend ears, me hearties, for I have fearsome news to tell. Today, the aforementioned Corey, the SOB—which is stores officer base and not what your sullied minds would instantly suggest—went to the stores. And there he found a broken window, and his little heart leaped. So he stood and looked and looked and stood and then he ordered a stores check and is now most upset. Two boxes of officers’ overcoats have decamped. Gone. AWOL, And they seem to have smashed the windows in order to effect a getaway. By now, knowing these boxes, they have crossed the border and are riding away into the sunset. And our SOB is rushing here, rushing there. Such a to-do.’
‘Excuse me, Yeo,’ Carloboy said. His voice was tight. ‘I have to go to the W/T office.’ He raced upstairs, his brain two steps ahead. That S/A must have taken the boxes after all. How? When? He collared Nugawira and brought him up to date.
Nugawira paled. ‘It’s that S/A all right,’ he breathed. ‘He must have come back on another night.’
‘I don’t think so. There must have been a car or something waiting that night to take the boxes away. He must have come back after we went off watch. Damn! I told Sims to keep an eye on that wall.’
‘So, what now?’
‘Let’s get hold of Sims. And then, the best thing is to tell Barnett the whole story.’
‘That mad bugger?’
‘I know, but all that mad talk is just a pose. If we want a good man on our side, I think Barnett is the best.’
Nugawira shrugged. ‘Half the bloody time I can’t even understand him. You can?’
They cornered Sims who listened open-mouthed. When they went to Barnett, he listened with a silence they found unbelievable. When they had told the tale he glared at them with much distaste. ‘Infants! That’s what you are. Infants! When you see a man in a place he is not supposed to be, you report him. That’s the Navy way. What’s the duty officer for? I know, he’s usually screwing somebody in the wardroom, but your duty is to call him, give him time to button his trousers and come. That’s accepted procedure. And, infants, you left your posts. A vile thing to do at the best of times.’
‘Yes, Yeo, but what are we going to do?’
‘Wait here. And try to do nothing. I will have words with the SOO.’
He was back in ten minutes, crooking a finger. ‘Come along, vile ones. You will tell the SOO what you told me. Look him in the eye and tell all.’
The staff officer operations gave a crooked grin. ‘All you buggers are in it. The very night there was wireless and signals watch. Station bugger keeps watch from the top. Wireless cabin bugger and stores bugger take the boxes. You mean to tell me one man can go on that ledge and smash windows and carry boxes and all?’
Barnett frowned. ‘I think these two are telling the truth, sir.’
‘Truth! Who wants the truth! I want the buggers who did this.’
Carloboy felt that things were getting out of hand. ‘But, sir—’
‘Quiet! If you did not steal, you aided and abetted. You know what that means?’ He thumped the bell on his desk. A petty officer came in. ‘March these two to the lobby. Tell the regulating office that they are to be detained.’
S/A Kariya was placed under close arrest and the police came on the scene. Statements were recorded. Kariya, held in the guards office, was grilled, and finally admitted to the theft. He gave the names of dealers in Diyatalawa and Bandarawela who had bought the overcoats. He said that Carloboy and Nugawira were his accomplices. He spread a neat story, a most convincing one. Carloboy and Nugawira had recently returned from Diyatalawa, hadn’t they? It was they who told him how merchants in those parts wished to buy warm clothes and paid well for Navy overcoats. Yes, he went to Diyatalawa and met the dealers. They had outlets in Bandarawela as well. But it was Carloboy and Nugawira who had done the spadework. He a
rranged to supply the stuff. All he had to do was take the boxes to a contact in Front Street, opposite the Colombo Fort Railway Station.
The police arrested the contact. The boxes were traced and the goods recovered. The Diyatalawa police took two men into custody and sent them under escort to Colombo. They identified Kariya as the naval rating who had made the supply. But they also said that two other ratings were involved. This, it was later learnt, was said on Kariya’s insistence. The police had cheerfully put all the bad eggs in one basket, leaving them together in the police guard room to discuss their predicament. It was simple. Kariya told them how and why the scheme had come unstuck.
‘Two other fellows saw me,’ he said hoarsely, ‘promised to keep quiet and then went and told.’
‘So who are these fellows?’ one of the dealers had asked.
Kariya described Carloboy and Nugawira as best as he could. ‘One is a big Burgher fellow. Big nose and shoulders. You’ll know him if you see him. Name’s von Bloss. You remember that and tell the name to the police.’
‘So never mind that. What does he look like?’
Kariya took pains describing Carloboy. ‘Other fellow is darker. Small chap. Very short. Round face. But if you describe the Burgher fellow he’ll also get pulled in. He’s the fellow who went and told everything.’
The SOO was not impressed. He spent a cozy time with the police crimes officer and said he didn’t trust Kariya at all, at all. ‘What we should have is an identification parade.’
‘For why?’
‘Because you guys put the suspects together. Bad show that. Now see their statements. They say two other ratings are in it. One says that one of these other men actually contacted him in Diyatalawa.’
‘So must be true, no?’
‘I don’t believe one word. How can recruits shipped direct to Diyatalawa know that there are boxes of overcoats here?’
The Inspector shook his head. ‘So then what?’
‘Simple, my dear fellow. The two men who told us about the theft cannot be accomplices. Best thing is to have an identification parade. Let’s see if these dealers can identify the two men.’
‘But they even gave us their names.’
The SOO snorted. ‘When? After you put them in the same cell with the accused? Aha, so the S/A could have told them the names.’
Barnett broke the news. ‘Now listen, you two. The men who bought the stuff have said that you and the S/A are in it. We are convinced—and let that be a straw to cling to—that they have been put up to implicate you. This have they done. Gave your names too. Most co-operative they were. So it has been decided. If they know you, let them point you out. There! The acid test. What say you? Stand before your accusers. Like—now who the devil was that? Sir Galahad? No . . . my strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure . . . something like that anyway. But comfort yourselves. Nobody here doubts you. Even the SOO is now convinced that you have been scuppered because you gave the show away.’
‘But yes, suppose they identify us . . .’
‘Then you are in deep shit. I shall stand to attention and watch you slowly sink out of sight.’
This was no comfort at all. Carloboy stared dumbly. ‘But that Kariya could have told them what we look like.’
‘Of course he did. You are fair and big built, and you,’ turning to Nugawira, ‘are the shortest bugger in the Navy. Very easy to identify. You know,’ he mused, ‘Nugawira is a dead duck. All they have to do is look for a midget. Very dicey business this is, to be sure.’
Carloboy nodded sadly.
‘So never mind. As long as you know you haven’t a prayer. Now, having put the fear of God into you, I will consult with the First Lieutenant. I will see that the order of the identification parade is well arranged. Fret not, you simple ones, those bastards are going to make a whopping big mistake.’ He tapped the side of his forehead. ‘You will see what brains can do.’
Carloboy was as fine-strung as a carload of polecats when the quartermaster hailed for an assorted group of sailors to assemble outside the canteen. He listened. Nugawira, himself, many others. As the names reeled off he began to understand what Barnett had done.
‘Ratings will fall in a single rank as follows,’ the quartermaster chirped, ‘Able Seaman Hughes, Able Seaman Mendis, Cook-steward Haramanis, SBA Wijey, Leading Signalman Alfie, REM Aloy, Signalman von Bloss, Stoker Mechanic Silva, Shipwright Silva, SBA Winnie, Telegraphist Nugawira, Stoker Mechanic Ryan, Leading Telegraphist Gibbs, Signalman Sims, Leading Seaman Samath.’
Fifteen men. But what an order! Extreme left was Hughes, fair, tall, brawny as a Dutch closet. Mendis was Hughes’ darker twin; Haramanis, an inch taller than Carloboy was hunched, thin and oldish, while SBA Wijey was even thinner and gangling. Alfie, tall as Wijey, was fair; while Aloy and Carloboy were of equal height. Carloboy was quite beefy while Aloy, a shade darker, was more gracefully moulded. Stoker Silva, next to Carloboy, was short. He was of the same colour and build as Nugawira and Carloboy was startled. ‘Good lord’, he thought, ‘where has Barnett dug this stoker from?’ He was just as short as Nugawira. Ryan, Gibbs and Sims were all fair-complexioned. Gibbs was portly and had a bit of a tummy. Sims was lean and Ryan was as big as Hughes with muscles the medical world had yet to learn of. At the other end, Samath was very much in the same cast as Aloy.
Lieutenant Commander Darley then called the line to attention. ‘Signalman von Bloss, Telegraphist Nugawira, fall out. The rest close rank.’
Here was another mystery.
Darley said, ‘Go to the PO’s mess. In the hall are two police officers. Report to them that we are ready to hold the identification parade. They have a man with them. You will bring the police officers and the man to the canteen.’
Barnet rubbed his hands. ‘Ah!’ he said, ‘Go, my children. Off you go. To the fiery furnace. Beard the lion in its den.’ He sounded quite prophetic.
A man sat in the PO’s mess. He was in the custody of two police officers. He wore a soft blue coat and a sarong. Most personable. He also reeked of money, from his demure handkerchief in his coat pocket to his soft-grained leather sandals. He paid Carloboy and Nugawira scant heed when they entered the mess, requested the officers to follow them.
In the canteen, the man’s eyes flicked along the line-up. Barnett said to the police officers, ‘This parade has been called so that positive identification can be made of two men who sold or negotiated to sell naval property to this man.’
‘That is correct.’
‘And are we to assume that this man knows, has spoken to and seen the two men and can now make positive identification?’
‘Yes. This man has given us the names also. Von Bloss and Nugawira. They were with the other man when terms of sale were discussed.’
‘Good.’ Barnett rubbed his hands. ‘We are glad to know that we can now weed out two more undesirables. Since your man has seen and spoken with von Bloss and Nugawira he should have no difficulty picking them out.’ He paused, gave a benign smile. ‘As you know, we have our little ceremonial in all such things. Two ratings will walk with the gentleman as he proceeds to pick out the culprits.’ He told Carloboy and Nugawira, ‘You two, accompany this gentleman.’
Carloboy stared dazedly. Later, he swore, he could have died. Could have died laughing. They paced alongside as the man walked. He pointed to no one.
‘Well?’ said Darley.
‘I know the men,’ came the uncertain mutter.
‘That won’t do. This is an identification parade. You must point them out.’
Carloboy and Nugawira stood impassively at the end of the line.
‘When you come to the men you may inform the sailors who are with you,’ came Darley’s sharp bark.
Thus prodded, the man went to the ‘von Bloss’ and the ‘Nugawira’ he had decided on on his first tour. He jabbed a finger at Ryan.
The rest was mayhem of a rare order. Like Guy Fawkes night and Vesuvius and several synchronized bowel movements and wh
at happened in Iran each time the Ayatollah mumbled through his beard. Quite unimaginable and wholly devastating.
20
History—Easter Sunday, April 5, 1942
What happened in the skies over Ceylon on Easter Sunday, 1942, proved to be one of the turning points of the war. The day before had progressed routinely enough. A lone Catalina, patrolling south-west to south-east, spotted a fleet of four fast Japanese battleships and five aircraft carriers approaching Colombo. The fleet was supported by a large force of cruisers and destroyers.
The pilot sent a warning to Colombo and flew dangerously close to the armada. He was shot down, but even as his flying boat spun, a ball of smoke and flame, he had succeeded in raising the alarm. That was Saturday, April 4. He had barely the time to bail out, plunging into the sea just as his plane smacked the water with a dull crump of exploding tanks.
Sir Geoffrey Layton, flag-officer commanding the Ceylon station, acted with speed and decision. He ordered the immediate emptying of the port of Colombo, rushing merchant vessels to sea and sending the warships out where they would have a fighting chance. Many merchantmen were ordered to steam north, lie off in shelter. Layton then ordered the battle-readiness of thirty-six Hurricanes. The Japanese could not be certain about the island’s state of readiness. They must have hoped for another Pearl Harbour. Certainly, they did not expect a fight.
It was shortly before eight on the morning of Easter Sunday when fifty Japanese bombers, escorted by an equal number of Zero fighters, swooped in from the south.
In Colombo, at the church of St Michael’s, the Revd Hardy, an affable Englishman, was conducting the Easter service. The collection had begun and all over, worshippers were digging into purses and pockets. The Revd Hardy was pleased. As was the practice, the Easter Sunday collection in the Anglican Church went to the vicar. Then the air raid sirens went off.
