And Fire Falls (14 page)

*

Sarah Macintosh found herself spending all her free time in the company of the dashing and suave Charles Huntley. They went on picnics on the river at Lane Cove and were a pair at tennis parties. Many remarked what a handsome couple they were, and even her father approved of her choice as his family were well-established old money.

Charles had been transferred to Sydney on behalf of the Prime Minister’s Department to oversee procurements for the American armed forces in Australia. He was recognised by his peers as a capable young man with a bright future in the public service. Sarah also knew that he supplemented his income with family money, which allowed him his lavish lifestyle. It was obvious that he was interested in a future with her, but one small matter concerned her, and that was Charles’s business relationship with her brother. She had been present at a tennis game at the Macintosh residence when she had overheard the two discussing a deal with James Barrington in the USA. From what she could glean there had been some unethical matters arising from the deal.

‘What were my brother’s dealings with Mr Barrington?’ she asked Charles later, when they were alone.

‘What do you mean?’ he countered.

‘I heard you mention to Donald that you were pleased with your share of the contracts.’

‘It was nothing of any importance,’ Charles replied. ‘How about you and I go to the flicks tonight?’

‘Don’t change the subject,’ Sarah persisted. ‘My brother uses every opportunity to cut me out of as many deals as he can. If it was not for my father, he would like to see me out of the business altogether.’

‘I think perhaps you’re being a little paranoid, my dear,’ Charles responded.

‘Don’t patronise me,’ Sarah said angrily. ‘Donald is up to something, and the way you are avoiding my question makes me think you’re siding with him against me. So, forget us going out tonight, I have other things to do.’

Sarah turned her back on Charles and stormed off. ‘Sarah, don’t walk away,’ he called, but she ignored him.

‘I say, old chap,’ Donald said, sidling up to Charles, ‘trouble on the domestic front?’

‘Your sister asked me about your dealings with James Barrington,’ Charles replied. ‘She’s under the impression you’re out to have her removed from the family businesses. I told her she was being paranoid.’

‘My sister is not paranoid,’ Donald said quietly.

Charles glanced at his friend. It seemed that all he had heard about the ruthless Macintosh family was true. But perhaps this time Donald had bitten off more than he could chew.

13

C
aptain Templeton was gone. He had set off down the track to Kokoda with the intention of bringing up reinforcements to Oivi, where Tom and his platoon waited for the Japanese. A single rifle shot was heard, and the captain was not seen again. A small patrol sent out to find him also disappeared, and a long burst of machine gun fire in the distance indicated why.

To Tom’s experienced ear the enemy gunfire meant that the Japanese marines had dangerously penetrated their flank, and he issued a warning to his men that they could expect an attack at any time. Hardly had his warning been sent down the line than the enemy erupted out of the jungle in an all-out assault on the Australian positions. This time Tom hardly had time to supervise his men as he worked the bolt on his rifle, firing as fast as he could into the ranks of oncoming enemy. It was a desperate skirmish but the militiamen defied the overwhelming odds and beat the Japanese back, and when the sun set, the Japanese melted away to reform in what Tom knew would be a dawn attack. He found himself admiring the Japanese soldiers’ courage as they seemed not to fear death. Their attack had been head-on, and he had also learned from the intelligence section that they were facing the cream of the Japanese army.

With nightfall an orders group of officers wisely chose to leave their current position as the Japanese worked away noisily clearing the surrounding scrub. Already the Australians knew that the enemy had brought up a machine gun capable of ripping through big trees. It was Lance Corporal Sinopa, a former New Guinean policeman, who offered a way out and led the small Australian force along a side track towards the village of Kokoda.

In the dark Tom found himself slithering down a steep bank into the Oivi River and wading waist deep through the water, holding the webbing straps of the soldier in front of him, who did the same to the man in front of him. The soldiers stumbled blindly through the icy waters; the only light deep in the ravine was the glowing phosphate fungus growing in patches along the riverbank. A soldier behind Tom whispered that they should grab a handful of the fungus and use it like headlights. Tom grinned; it was a good sign that the retreating men still had a sense of humour.

Sinopa eventually led them out of the river and up bank into the dense jungle. Just before dawn they emerged on a narrow track in the foothills between Gebara and Sangai, and here they broke open their emergency rations. Hardly had they swallowed the first mouthful than they heard distant gunfire coming from the direction of Oivi.

‘What’s happening, sarge?’ the young soldier asked.

‘The Japs are attacking our old positions,’ Tom said. ‘Thankfully there’s no one there.’ Tom was wrong. Five Australians had been overlooked in the night-time retreat. They held the perimeter until they realised they were alone in the dark, then they quickly left the clearing and skirted the Japanese positions, eventually returning to the main track and the arms of fellow Australian soldiers.

At the village of Kokoda Lieutenant Colonel Owen
received the news of the unstoppable Japanese advance from a soldier who had been separated in the confusion of the retreat from Oivi. The colonel had a sense of humour and remembered the Japanese campaign in Malaya. He drafted a message to be carried by a Papuan policeman to the retreating troops:
Withdraw patrol through me at Kokoda at 10 am. Be careful that enemy do not catch up to you unexpectedly on bicycles.

The colonel knew that he did not have enough men or weapons to defend the strategic plateau with its village, vital airfield and track leading to Port Moresby. But he also realised that the advancing enemy offered a direct threat to Australia and he knew that this place called Kokoda village was where they must make a determined stand. He wondered if anyone in Australia had ever heard of the place. He suspected not, and he thought perhaps the name would die with them.

The colonel made his plans to defend the area by ordering the forces he had to occupy the heights above a waterfall. All ammunition and grenades that could not be carried were buried in a rubber plantation. By midnight, positions were occupied.

*

‘It’s deserted,’ Lieutenant Mike Hall said to Tom when they arrived at the Kokoda plateau. Both men knelt in the cover of the surrounding jungle, scanning the silent village and airfield. ‘Do you think the Nips have got here and have set up an ambush?’

Tom scratched the stubble on his chin. They had had no opportunity to shave on the retreat, and military regulations to shave daily were being ignored for the moment. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maybe our mob has pissed off and left us.’

‘Boss, you’re wanted by the company commander,’ a soldier said.

Lieutenant Hall excused himself, leaving Tom in charge of the platoon while he went to meet with Captain Stevenson. Tom glanced around and noticed the young soldier squatting behind him using his rifle as support. He was staring vacantly ahead but Tom knew the look in the young man’s eyes. A kind of acceptance that he might not live in the next few hours or days, but also a determination to make the enemy pay dearly for taking his life. When Tom looked around at the rest of the weary platoon of boys hardly old enough to shave, he could see the same general expression of fatalism and determination. For Tom, death was not such a surprise. He had seen it so often on the Western Front when he was barely older than the men whose lives were now resting in his hands.

‘You know what I love about this life,’ Tom said just loud enough for the men around him to hear. ‘You get to travel to beautiful, tropical places for nothing, and if you’re lucky, you get a free meal too. Just think of the poor bastards back in Australia missing out on all this exotic beauty. Now, I know there are one or two things spoiling our holiday, but overall we’re better off than our cobbers back home.’

A chuckle arose from the men around him, and Tom suddenly felt that Wallarie would have wanted him here to guide these young men, and Wallarie would keep him alive to see the war through.

Lieutenant Hall returned from the orders group with the senior officers of the small force. He squatted down beside Tom and beckoned his junior NCOs to join them. They would relay any message to the rest of the platoon.

‘The boss thinks it could be a trap, so we’re going to skirt the area. We’re going to head down to Iora Creek and follow it upstream to the foot of Deniki Hill where we will ascend. We move out in ten minutes. Pass the word along,’ said Lieutenant Hall, and the men were assembled for the march.

They were pleasantly surprised to find Lieutenant
Colonel Owen’s small force at the top of the hill when they eventually struggled up there. Below them the plateau was still quiet.

The following day a recon force entered the village to find that the Japanese had still not reached this vitally important area.

Owen ordered his consolidated force down to occupy prepared defensive positions. The regimental medical officer, a man older than Tom, was packing his kit to join the men moving down to prepare for the forthcoming battle.

‘I think that you should remain here at Deniki, Dr Vernon,’ Owen said, knowing that the gaunt, grey-haired medical officer would be safer on the hilltop when battle commenced.

‘Sorry, I’m rather deaf,’ the doctor lied, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t hear you.’

‘I suggest that you remain here at Deniki,’ Owen shouted.

‘Nonsense,’ the doctor replied. ‘Where do you think the wounded will be – here or down at Kokoda?’

Owen walked away, defeated by the medical officer’s reasoning and courage.

At dusk the Japanese launched an all-out attack on
Kokoda. The outnumbered and outgunned militiamen
from Australia now came to learn the difference between skirmishing and full-scale war. For Tom Duffy the attack brought back a fleeting memory of another place and time. It was like being back on the Western Front, and he was standing shoulder to shoulder with young men who had not even been born the last time he had done this. The first battle of Kokoda had begun.

*

Diane sat on the edge of the ledge in the new room they had been allocated higher up in the prison. Sam was playing on the floor with a small wooden toy car that had no wheels. It had been weeks since her meeting with the dreaded Japanese secret police officer, and he had put a rumour out that Diane was stealing food from her comrades. Many of the women shunned her, but Anne stood up for Diane, explaining the extenuating circumstances. This did not seem to make a difference to some, including Dorothy, who avoided her. Diane was hurt at first, but now she couldn’t care less.

As Diane sat gazing at Sam she wondered for the thousandth time why no mail had arrived from Australia via the Japanese Red Cross to inform her of Patrick’s fate.

She scratched at a scab on her arm. Her skin was covered in rashes from mite bites, and her bones were beginning to protrude through her skin. There was not enough protein in their diet to replace fat layers, and she was not alone. Most of the women were stick-thin and had ceased menstruating. Their hair was dull and matted.

Diane had heard rumours that the men had a concealed shortwave radio set in their section of the prison. To be found in possession of such an item meant certain death, and already the Japanese and Korean guards had made searches, taking prisoners away for interrogation that included brutal torture to the point of death.

‘Mummy,’ Sam said, ceasing his game with the toy car, ‘when will we be going home?’

Diane looked at her foster son, and tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘One day,’ she replied. Sam could see she was crying and went to her to put his arms around her thin waist. She held his head to her and thought about freedom. Freedom had more than one meaning, and death gave liberty to those it came to in the prison. Without Patrick, life was losing meaning, and Diane sobbed as the little boy she had taken into her life hugged the only human he knew could make him feel wanted.

‘Dry your tears, woman,’ Anne said sternly, entering the cell. ‘I have a letter for you.’

Diane wiped her face with the back of her hand and accepted the letter held out to her. She opened it quickly, her hands trembling, and then laughed bitterly.

‘What is it?’ Anne asked.

‘It’s a letter from my accountant saying that I cannot collect insurance on the destruction of my aircraft last December as I was not covered for acts of war.’

‘Insurance companies are bastards,’ Anne said. ‘They take your money so their big nobs can live well but always find excuses not to return any of the money you paid. Sorry your first letter turned out to be a dud.’

‘I was hoping to hear from my former engineer, who I entrusted Patrick to,’ Diane said, crumbling the letter in her hand. ‘But they don’t even know if I am alive or dead.’

Anne sat down next to Diane and took her hand. ‘Just wait, luv,’ she said. ‘If your accountant knows you’re here, the Red Cross must have sent your name on to Australia.’

Diane thought the Englishwoman was probably correct. It gave her hope that a letter might be on the way. But if Cyril had not made it out of Singapore alive, the letter she was waiting for would never arrive.

‘We’re have a meeting to elect new representatives,’ Anne reminded her. ‘We have to attempt to retain our sanity with everything that’s going on. You’re a pilot, I’m sure you have skills that you can pass on. Maybe you could teach us navigation for when we bust out of here.’

Diane looked at her stalwart friend and saw a hint of a smile.

‘Only if we could steal a Nip aeroplane,’ she said, entering into the joke. No matter how tough things got, Anne stepped in to cheer people up. Three months had passed in Japanese captivity and there was no real hope in sight. What little snippets of information the prisoners had been able to glean were grim; the Imperial Armed Forces of Japan were still on the advance south. So far, no one had been able to halt them.

*

Captain James Duffy walked away from his stubby Wildcat fighter on the flight deck of the USS
Enterprise.
He was stiff and sore from the hour-long flight across the vast blue waters of the South Pacific, searching for enemy aircraft and ships. None had been encountered and now he was heading for the briefing room to report to the ship’s intelligence officer.

‘Hey, Jimmy, the mail came in while you were away,’ called a fellow pilot across the wind-swept flight deck.

James thanked him and took possession of two letters. One was from his sister in Australia and the other from his grandfather in the USA. He knew that he would have time to read them after the debrief, and tucked them in his flying jacket under his Mae West flotation vest. So named because they made the pilot look buxom, and the well-endowed blonde and brassy actress, Mae West, came to mind.

The debrief over, James made his way to the officer’s club to have a lunch and good, strong cup of coffee to follow. He sat at a table where a Filipino steward placed his plate of steak and tinned vegetables, and slipped open the letter from his sister. He read that her posting to Sydney with the American Red Cross had proved to be wonderful, and that she and Donald Macintosh were having a lot of fun on her off duty hours. You should be here, she said in her letter and James wished he was. The endless hours of flying and living under the constant threat of death at sea were always with him, and even if the young pilot tried to put thoughts of death at the back of his mind the fact was he often found that his hands trembled, and he had trouble sleeping. The mention that Donald had travelled to the USA earlier in the year and met with their grandfather raised James’s eyebrows. The two families were definitely becoming closer, he thought. Olivia went on to say how wonderful the weather was in Sydney, and that it did not snow in winter – except for down in the mountains south-west of the city. The people were very friendly but there were rumours that Aussie and American soldiers were not getting on too well. The main point of division seemed to be over the young women who had taken a liking to American manners, and the money freely spent on them. Olivia continued with how proud Grandfather was of his winning the Navy Cross.