by W E Johns
‘Don’t worry about them,’ advised Marling carelessly. ‘They’ll slap a lump of cowdung or a handful of bruised leaves on their wounds and be all right in a week. Don’t ask me why the wounds don’t turn septic because I don’t know.’
The march back to the Lotus was made without incident, although towards the finish the major had to accept assistance on account of his wounded leg. To Biggles’ annoyance, the unruly commandos, flushed with success, abandoned all restraint, and from time to time the forest rang with laughter as some man described a personal adventure.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Marling to Biggles. ‘Any odd Japanese who happen to be about will run the other way when they hear this din. They don’t like parangs. I do. It’s a nice weapon, particularly for jungle work, and it takes a good man to face up to one. The War Office might do worse than make an issue of them to commando troops. It’s the head they’re laughing at.’
‘Head?’ queried Biggles. ‘What head?’
‘They’ve got a head for a trophy, a souvenir of the occasion. They’re passing it round . . . great joke.’
‘What!’ For the first time Biggles really grasped what the major was talking about. ‘I’ll stop that,’ he declared.
‘I wouldn’t try – you might lose your own. They do things without thinking when they’re in this mood.’
Biggles steadied himself and walked on. ‘Whose head is it?’
‘Apparently it belonged to that spy fellow, Pamboo.’
‘Of course, he was at Victoria Point,’ murmured Biggles. ‘I was so taken up with other things that I forgot all about him.’
‘Why worry?’ said the major carelessly. ‘Nothing like removing a man’s head from his body to prevent him from causing further mischief.’
Biggles smiled wanly. ‘I can’t argue against that.’
‘Everybody fights a war his own way,’ asserted Marling. ‘That’s the Malay way. This is their theatre as much as ours, so who are we to quibble?’
‘There’s something in that,’ acknowledged Biggles. ‘But I don’t like loose heads about.’ He marched on.
Everybody was in good heart when the Lotus was reached, for the expedition had been a complete success. Under Biggles’ firm orders embarkation proceeded quietly. When all were aboard Ayert took the wheel and the launch crept away into the night as noiselessly as it had appeared.
Rather more than an hour later, with a crescent moon rising out of the sea, after cruising down the western coast of the island the Lotus turned into the little cove that had provided so secure a berth. An instant later a shout, shrill with alarm, came from the look-out. It brought the officers, who had been resting on the deck, to their feet, swaying as the Lotus yawed when Ayert spun the wheel to avoid collision with a big dark shape that loomed suddenly ahead.
Biggles reached the rail in a stride. ‘Watch out!’ he exclaimed, in a voice brittle with alarm. ’It’s the Sumatran.’
This dramatic announcement was followed by a brief period not far removed from consternation. It was assumed naturally that the ship was in enemy hands. Even Biggles did not question this foregone conclusion, and remembering that the Sumatran carried deck armament he was shouting to Ayert for full speed out of the vicinity when a hail came floating across the water to bring him round in a posture of incredulity.
‘That was Li Chi’s voice,’ he asserted wonderingly.
The hail came again.
‘It is Li Chi,’ vowed Ginger.
‘What the deuce . . .!’ For once Biggles was completely at a loss. He stared at the larger craft apprehensively, as if suspecting a trap; but he answered the hail and asked Ayert to close with the ship. In a minute or two after a cautious approach they were alongside.
‘What are you doing?’ called Biggles, above a babble of excited conversation.
‘Waiting for you,’ came the answer in Li Chi’s voice.
‘What’s gone wrong?’
‘Nothing. For once things have gone right,’ stated Li Chi, who could now be seen looking down from the rail. ‘Come aboard and I’ll tell you about it.’
‘I still don’t understand it,’ muttered Biggles, as he accepted the invitation, having told Ayert to proceed to the shore when they were aboard.
In a few words, with his hands tucked into his sleeves, Li Chi explained, and Biggles no longer wondered why he had failed to guess the reason for the Sumatran’s return. Things had happened that were hardly to be expected.
‘I was just getting out of the danger zone, as I thought, when we sighted a big ship hull down over our port bow,’ said Li Chi. ‘I turned away, but she quickly overhauled us and made a signal that we were to heave to. We had no choice but to obey. Then, as she came up, I saw with joy and amazement that she was flying the white ensign. She was the Lochavon Castle, an armed merchantman, out from Perth, West Australia, for Calcutta. At the point where she intercepted us she was off her course, but her skipper told me that he had received a radio signal from the Admiralty to pick us up. And do you know for what purpose?’
‘I couldn’t guess,’ murmured Biggles.
‘To take over our rubber and proceed direct to England with it.’
‘Well, I’ll go hopping,’ breathed Tug.
A smile broke slowly over Biggles’ face. ‘Good for the Navy,’ he observed. ‘Somebody has done some quick thinking – but then, the Navy’s good at that. What about you, Li Chi?’
‘There were no orders. I fancy it was supposed that I would take the ship to India. The captain thought that was the intention. But as I say, there were no orders, so I decided to come back for another load of rubber – why not?’
‘That was noble of you,’ commended Biggles. ‘What did the skipper say about that?’
‘He said the Sumatran was my ship and I could do what I liked with her. He wouldn’t be looking whichever way I went. So I handed over the rubber. He went on. I came back,’ concluded Li Chi simply.
‘This is the biggest slice of cake we’ve had so far,’ asserted Biggles. ‘If we can shift another thousand tons of rubber we shall be halfway home. We could never have got the job finished otherwise. We’ve sort of stirred things up on the mainland.’
‘Ah,’ breathed Li Chi. ‘The raid was a success?’
‘Couldn’t have been better.’ Biggles gave a short account of the landing, and the rescue of Algy and Major Marling – who stood listening. ‘Time is what we’re up against now,’ he went on. ‘We always were, of course, but after this things are going to buzz. Tamashoa will be really sore. Singapore, and perhaps even Tokyo, will sit up and take notice when they hear about it. They’ll attack us by land, sea or air – perhaps a combined operation. It may take them a day or two to organize, but we’ve got to get really busy. I suggest, if you are willing, that you load up again with rubber and push off before the fireworks start.’
Li Chi agreed that this was obviously the thing to do. He said he would get the work in hand forthwith. ‘We’ll have another conference presently when we’ve had a clean up and a rest,’ said Biggles, and with the others, went ashore in one of the Sumatran’s boats.
The Liberators should start coming in tomorrow morning,’ he resumed, as they walked up the hill. ‘From dawn we’ll start one-hour patrols in a Lightning to take care of the Sumatran and see the Liberators safely in. The other Lightning can stand at ready in case it is required. I’ll take first shift. Until then we’d better put in some blanket drill.’1
1 RAF slang for sleep.
CHAPTER 19
THE PACE GROWS FASTER
DAWN FOUND THE work of loading the Sumatran still proceeding under the tireless eyes of Li Chi – not so quickly as on the previous occasion, for casualties reduced the number of men available and the others were resting in relays after the night’s exertions. As soon as it began to get light Biggles took off in a Lightning and did a high patrol for an hour, watching the mainland for hostile aircraft which he felt sure would try to interfere. None came, however.
‘I don’t under
stand why they haven’t sent anyone out, but they haven’t, and that suits me,’ he told Ginger, who relieved him. ‘I can only think that all their available fighters were washed up at Shansie and they’re a bit nervous about sending reconnaissance machines.’
‘I should say it’s more likely that there’s one dickens of a flap going on ashore,’ returned Ginger. ‘They’re probably working out the best way of getting at us.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed Biggles.
Ginger took off, and Biggles went on to the bungalow where he found Algy, Tug and Henry, half dressed, all looking a trifle the worse for wear, sitting on the verandah. Major Marling and Lalla, they said, seemed to be having a private conference inside.
‘How long before the Sumatran can get away?’ asked Algy. ‘She’s asking for it, isn’t she, sitting there in broad daylight for all the world to see?’
‘There’s nothing we can do about it except hope that the Japs stay at home,’ replied Biggles. ‘She won’t get away this side of noon. Get yourselves squared up – all of you. You look like a salvage dump. The fact that you’re off a regular station doesn’t mean that you can sit and bind like a bunch of store bashers. There’s a Liberator in the shed doing nothing. Get it loaded up. Henry, take it to India. As soon as it’s unloaded send it back. The other machines will be here presently. Tug, relieve Ginger when he comes down.’
The three officers, thus admonished, retired hastily.
Still no enemy machines appeared, but Biggles insisted that the protective patrols be maintained.
At ten o’clock the first Liberator arrived from India, flown by Angus, who reported that Bertie, Taffy and Tex were following. The machine was loaded and taken back to India by Tug, leaving Angus on the island to rest. No sooner had the aircraft left when Bertie arrived. His machine was turned round, loaded, and taken back to India by Ginger. Taffy landed soon afterwards, closely followed by Tex. After some delay Taffy’s machine was flown back by Algy, who took with him written and verbal despatches for radio transmission to Air Commodore Raymond.
The delay was caused by certain events that had so much bearing on the situation that they had to be incorporated in Biggles’ reports. They began when Li Chi came up to the bungalow for a cup of tea. He mentioned that he had been in the Sumatran’s radio cabin, and that the sky was stiff with signals, mostly Japanese, but as they were in code he was unable to say what they were about. He had kept a record of them however, in case Biggles cared to pass them on to Intelligence Headquarters, India.
‘Just a minute,’ said Biggles. ‘Where are those books and papers we grabbed last night at Victoria Point? I’m thinking particularly of those that were in the safe. There’s a chance that a copy of the Japanese secret code may be amongst them. There must be something important, anyway, or that interpreter chap wouldn’t have been so anxious to burn them.’
The documents were produced, but as of course they were in Japanese they conveyed nothing to Biggles, who handed them over to Li Chi. There was no code book, but there were a number of documents that had been decoded, which came to the same thing, for they provided Li Chi with the key.
‘We’ll get this information to India right away,’ declared Biggles. ‘You’d better look through your notes, though, Li Chi, in case there’s anything that concerns us.’
Li Chi got busy, and was soon able to announce that there was quite a lot that concerned them. Briefly, it amounted to this. Penang had reported to Singapore that the aircraft stationed at Victoria Point had been destroyed by a sudden flood. Biggles smiled at this, for he noted that nothing was said about Shansie, or how the flood occurred. Obviously, Tamashoa was still trying to ‘save his face’. But Biggles’ smile faded when Li Chi continued. The raid on Victoria Point was thought to be of such importance that it had been reported to supreme headquarters at Tokyo. The upshot of this was, two transports, each carrying a battalion of troops, were to be sent north from Singapore for an immediate attack on Elephant Island. They were to pick up Tamashoa on the way. He would take charge of the operation.
‘That means the best part of two thousand troops,’ muttered Biggles, biting his lip. ‘My word! We have started something. Well, we can’t do anything against that crowd – not if they once get their feet on the beach.’ He unfolded his service map – a large-scale map of the area. ‘You know these waters,’ he went on, speaking to Li Chi. ‘Which way will these transports come?’
‘The direct way, I imagine,’ answered Li Chi, drawing a line on the map with a pencil. ‘They aren’t likely to go round the outside of the archipelago – it would take them too far out of their way. They’ll come up the inner channel.’
‘We can watch them from one of the Lightnings,’ said Biggles thoughtfully. He was looking at the map. ‘If they take the inner channel it means they’ll have to pass between Lakar Island and the mainland.’
‘Of course.’
‘It doesn’t look very wide.’
‘Between two and three miles. The actual passage is narrower.’
‘Plenty of water there, I suppose?’
‘Plenty. All coastal ships use the channel.’
‘These transports are coming from Singapore. How long will it take them to get here?’
‘That will depend on the speed of the ships. Allowing for a stop at Penang to pick up Tamashoa they should be here in not more than three days.’
‘That channel sounds like an nice place to chuck a few mines,’ remarked Angus, who was listening.
‘The trouble is, we haven’t any mines; and if we had we haven’t equipment for mine laying,’ Biggles pointed out.
‘What a shame,’ sighed Bertie.
‘How about borrowing some mine layers from someplace?’ suggested Tex practically.
‘I don’t know about that,’ answered Biggles dubiously. ‘We can’t start slinging mines about on our own account; the Navy might have something to say about it, particularly if we sank one of their submarines. We were sent here to get rubber, not start a war of our own.’
‘I’d lay the mines and tell the Navy afterwards,’ declared Tex.
‘If everybody started laying mines to suit himself there soon wouldn’t be any Navy,’ replied Biggles sarcastically.
‘You might ask for permission to have a crack at the transports – somehow, if you see what I mean?’ suggested Bertie.
‘I could do that,’ agreed Biggles. ‘Something ought to be done about those grounded destroyers too; before the Japs get them afloat again.’ He smiled. ‘With one thing and another we must have made ourselves unpopular with the Japanese army, navy and air force.’
‘Why not?’ growled Taffy. ‘Take ’em all on, I say.’
‘In offering to shift this rubber we took on plenty, without any trimmings,’ averred Biggles.
As a result of all this, Biggles’ despatches to India comprised: first, a concise report of the events that had occurred, and a picture of the state that then existed. Second, a request that they might be allowed to suspend transportwork in order to strike at (a) the troop transports, and (b) the destroyers. The first, he submitted, was vital if Elephant Island was to remain occupied. The second was an exceptional target.
‘If they say no to that, it’s goodbye to our island home,’ observed Biggles, as he handed Algy the despatches.
Algy set off for India, leaving Biggles on the island with Angus, Bertie, Taffy and Tex; and they were still discussing the situation with Li Chi when Ayert arrived to say that the Sumatran was loaded and ready for sea. Li Chi went off leaving Ayert on the island as before, and in a few minutes the Sumatran could be seen steaming westward. Biggles sent Angus up in a Lightning to provide air cover; then he sank down and mopped his face with a handkerchief.
‘Thank goodness that’s done,’ he muttered. ‘This is getting really hectic. With more than half the rubber away inside a week I suppose we should be well satisfied. The Sumatran was a stroke of luck. What we should have done without her I don’t know. The second half isn’t
going to be so easy. I reckoned on a month or six weeks before the Japanese discovered us, and then another week or two before they could find out what was going on and take action; instead of which the cat is right out of the bag.’
‘If they’ll stay out of the way long enough to give us a breather it will be something, if you see what I mean?’ murmured Bertie, polishing his eyeglass.
‘There’s nothing much for their machines to see now if they do come over, as long as they don’t catch the Liberators arriving or taking off,’ answered Biggles. ‘I’m more concerned about the two transports. If we’re here for another week I shall be surprised. How we’re going to shift the rest of the rubber in that time I don’t know. Our only hope is to prevent those troops from getting here. If they land, I’m leaving. There’s nothing else we can do. It all depends now on what Raymond has to say. If he wants the rubber, then he’ll have to let us stop those ships.’
‘What about our jolly old labourers if we have to pull out in a hurry?’ asked Bertie. ‘If we leave them here they’ll have a beastly time with the Japanese. We couldn’t do that.’
‘I spoke to Li Chi about that a day or two ago,’ answered Biggles. ‘He seemed to think there was no need to worry – but there, he doesn’t worry about anything. He said these chaps can take care of themselves – hide in the forest or push off to another island; but after the way they’ve worked I don’t like that idea. If Li Chi’s junk was finished they might get away in that. Failing the junk, I suppose we shall have to consider taking them to India in the Liberators – that is, if they want to go. They may not. But we’ll deal with that problem when the time comes!’
At this point of the conversation the party was joined by Major Marling and Lalla.
‘I told you to stay in bed, sir, to rest that leg,’ said Biggles reproachfully. ‘When the next machine goes to India I think you’d better go with it, to let a doctor have a look at you.’
‘I shall do nothing of the sort, sir,’ replied Marling stiffly. ‘What’s all this fuss about my leg? We didn’t bother about wounds in the old days – no sir.’
