And Fire Falls (16 page)

‘Don’t know, son,’ said Tom. ‘All I know is that the best we can do is slowly fall back, and send as many of the little yellow bastards as we can to whatever afterlife they believe in. We have to hold until the stupid drongos in Canberra figure out a way to send us reinforcements. From the way they’re running the war in Australia, it looks like they’re flat out managing a chook raffle.’ Tom swigged down the last of his sweet black tea. ‘Guess the fun’s over. Time to return to the company, son.’

Both men reluctantly heaved themselves to their feet and waved their thanks to the sergeant cook as they left the rear area for the forward edge of the defence of the Kokoda Track. They moved cautiously and Tom wondered how much he could take of this nerve-stretching war in the wet, muddy gloom of the dense rainforest, where death could be a mere arm’s length away and yet not be seen until it tapped a man on the shoulder. Always he thought about his daughter and wondered how she was living her life. It had been weeks since mail had been brought forward, and the last he’d heard was that she was through her basic training and being mustered to her unit at Point Cook.

On their way back they passed a wounded soldier being carried on a litter by four New Guinea natives. Tom stopped to speak with the soldier, who had taken grenade shrapnel in his arms, stomach and chest. He was feverish and asked for a cigarette, but Tom had run out. They left the wounded soldier and Tom and the young soldier continued their trek to the forward positions of their battalion.

‘Doin’ a good job, those fuzzy wuzzies,’ the young soldier said.

The next day Tom saw his prediction concerning the Tommy submachine guns realised. The reformed battalion had learned much from their enemy about jungle warfare. An ambush was sprung on an unsuspecting Japanese patrol, and the submachine guns quickly brought down nine of the enemy. Tom lost none of his own men, but he realised that it was just the beginning and more than likely they would still be forced to fall back in the face of the overwhelming might of the Imperial Japanese Army.

*

Sean Duffy closed the door to his solicitor’s office in the heart of Sydney and gripped his walking stick to support his body. He’d lost his legs in the Great War and by sheer force of will had learned how to walk again on tin legs, suffering years of pain to regain and maintain his mobility.

He stepped into the elevator and said good evening to the lift operator, an old war veteran. The two men exchanged war news, and when the lift arrived at the reception area, Sean found himself face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered army officer sporting lieutenant’s pips on his shoulders.

‘David!’ Sean exclaimed with joy. ‘When did you get here?’

David Macintosh grinned and came forward to grasp Sean in a warm hug before stepping back to shake his hand.

‘Uncle Sean, it’s so good to see you again,’ David said.
‘I thought we might go around the corner and have a beer. A bit to catch up on. How’s Louise?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Sean answered, waving his hand. ‘Louise is well, and she’ll be pleased to see you again. You hardly write, and the last I heard from you, you were sitting under a coconut tree in Ceylon, enjoying the surf and local girls.’

‘I couldn’t tell you that we were coming home,’ David said. ‘It was all very hush-hush. But myself and a few of the battalion have been sent ahead of the unit to prepare for its arrival.’

‘You’ll have to come and stay with me at the flat,’ Sean said. ‘I’m sure Louise will want to prepare a big roast dinner to welcome you home.’

‘I look forward to her cooking after the last few years on army rations,’ David said, steering Sean towards the street. ‘So, what’s happening on the Sydney scene?’

‘As you know, your cousins Donald and Sarah are running the Macintosh businesses in your absence,’ Sean replied, his hand on David’s shoulder. ‘There are rumours that all is not well between brother and sister. Old Sir George is in semiretirement and no one is sure which way he leans, towards Donald or Sarah. I’m sure he’s been busily praying that the Eyties or Huns kill you off.’

‘It was the Froggies who almost finished me off in Syria,’ David said with a pained smile, touching the scar on his leg where a Vichy French bullet had ripped through almost crippling him. ‘How is Donald?’

‘In love with a very pretty American Red Cross nurse, Miss Olivia Barrington . . . or so I have heard.’

‘Olivia Barrington,’ David echoed. ‘Is she the same Olivia Barrington who was with Donald and Sarah at the Berlin Olympics?’

‘The very same. Your cousin went to Washington earlier this year and, from what I have been told by Louise, met up with the young lady again. The affection seems to be mutual because the young lady in question had a few strings pulled to ensure she was posted to Sydney.’

‘And Sarah?’ David asked.

‘She has been seen out with Charles Huntley, a prominent public servant connected to the Prime Minister’s Department. One could say an interesting match of public and private service.’

‘Oh,’ David said. ‘I hope all goes well for her.’

They had reached the entrance of the hotel and stepped inside the smoke-filled room crowded with American servicemen talking loudly and spending freely. David used his size and weight to push through the crowd of drinkers to the bar, Sean following in his wake.

The two men ordered beers and found themselves chatting about sport and people they knew, deliberately avoiding conversation about the war. David found himself thinking about Sarah. What would it be like to meet her face to face after all this time? He was determined to find out as soon as possible – Charles Huntley or no.

Part Two

Fight Back

August – December 1942

15

D
avid Macintosh pulled the blankets up to his chin to avoid the cold of the winter morning. For a moment, as he came awake, he felt a chill of fear. Where was he? He stared at the vaguely familiar ceiling, desperately trying to work out whether he was late for parade. But eventually he realised that the ceiling belonged Sean Duffy’s city flat, and the familiar smell drifting into his room was of bacon and eggs frying. He recalled that he had spent the evening drinking with Sean and his old friend Harry Griffiths. David had broken his vow never again to drink to excess, but in the company of the two men he most loved in the world that vow was put aside as the three recalled their military experience from two wars.

‘Time to get up, old chap,’ Sean called from the kitchen. ‘You have a visitor.’

David placed his feet on the floor with some difficulty and pulled his pants from the end of the bed. He found a shirt and stumbled to see the smiling face of his cousin, Donald, sitting at the kitchen table. At David’s entrance Donald rose and extended his hand.

‘I only learned yesterday that you were back,’ Donald said by way of greeting. ‘I was on my way to work and thought that I would pop by and say hello to my favourite cousin.’

‘You don’t have all that many cousins,’ David grinned, shaking Donald’s hand firmly. ‘Not hard to be the favourite. Have a seat. I see that Uncle Sean has prepared breakfast for you – all I can manage is a strong cup of tea after last night.’

Donald glanced around at the empty beer bottles scattered all about.

‘Must have been a heck of a celebration,’ he said with a grin. ‘So, how are you?’

‘Fair to middling,’ David replied, slumping in a chair at the table.

‘I think I’ll put your breakfast in the fridge,’ Sean sighed. ‘You can have a bacon and egg sandwich for lunch. I have to excuse myself as I have an early morning appointment at the office.’

Sean grabbed his hat and walking stick and left the cousins alone at the kitchen table. The smile faded from Donald’s face.

‘You have a few grey hairs,’ he said. ‘The war has not been good to you.’

‘Thanks for the concern, but it was my choice to go,’ David replied. ‘There were times when I figured your father would have his deepest wish come true and I’d die.’

‘Father is not the same man you may remember when you left for the Middle East,’ Donald said. ‘He hardly turns up at board meetings, and Sarah has become his voice in the business. He’s currently down in Melbourne seeing some medical specialist. Not sure what for – he won’t tell us what’s wrong with him.’

‘Greed – and a lust for power,’ David said, and Donald did not comment. ‘I see the war hasn’t put paid to your liking for expensive suits.’

‘One has to keep up appearances in these austere times,’ Donald replied defensively. ‘I have meetings with some very important government people, and I have to give the impression that the Macintosh enterprises are doing well.’

‘Are they?’ David asked.

‘The damned war taxes are biting into our profits, but we are keeping our heads above water in these difficult times,’ Donald answered. ‘But that’s enough business chitchat. I’ve been ordered by my sister to come over and inform you that a party is being held at our house tonight in your honour. You are to report no later than six o’clock, or should I say 1800 hours? Don’t be late, old chap.’

David was surprised at the invitation. He had never stepped
foot inside Sir George’s mansion on the harbour – Sarah
must have been taking advantage of the fact her father was in Melbourne. ‘I’ll be there,’ David said, and Donald rose from the table.

When his cousin had left, David remained at the table, a cup of cold tea in front of him. So he would finally get to see Sarah. Desire stirred in him, and he decided it was time to clean up and have a shower.

*

David arrived at the Macintosh house in a taxi, wearing his army officer’s dress uniform. He noticed the many expensive cars parked around the grounds and thought that some people at least were growing rich on the war.

He could hear music drifting from the house, and at the entrance he was met by Donald and a very pretty young woman wearing the uniform of the American Red Cross.

‘David, meet Miss Olivia Barrington,’ Donald said. ‘You two met unofficially back in 1936 in Berlin.’

‘I remember,’ David said, recalling the incident in the Berlin cafe garden that had sent him on a terrible journey through hell in the Dachau concentration camp, and then on the battlefields of the Spanish Civil War. ‘How is James?’

Olivia looked surprised that David would remember her brother. ‘As far as I know he’s well. James is somewhere in the South Pacific as a flyer on the USS
Enterprise
. He was awarded a Navy Cross this year.’

‘Good on him,’ David said. ‘Hope we catch up one day.’

‘Time to go inside to meet the other guests,’ Donald said, taking David by the elbow. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that no one is above the age of thirty, and I’ve invited a few very pretty young ladies along to meet you.’

David stepped inside the grand house and was ushered into a large room where a record player blared out the latest American pop music, and the scent of perfume mixed with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. Across the room Sarah was chatting with a man wearing an expensive dinner suit. Her eyes turned to him and he could see a flicker of delight. She immediately walked across the room towards him.

‘David,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘It’s so wonderful to see you here.’

For a moment neither knew what to do next, and then Sarah reached up to kiss him. He was surprised to feel her full lips on his own rather than a cousinly peck on the cheek, and David felt a violent heat, as if from a grenade, burst between them.

‘I have wanted to do that for a long time,’ Sarah murmured in David’s ear before turning to look back at the man with whom she had been in conversation. ‘I think you should meet Charles,’ she said, leading David by the hand to the debonair-looking young man watching their approach. David could see from the expression on Charles Huntley’s face that his introduction was not entirely welcome.

‘Charles, this is my wonderful cousin, David Macintosh,’ Sarah said. ‘David, this is Charles.’

The two men shook hands politely.

‘I see that you are a junior officer,’ Charles said, taking note of his army officer’s dress uniform, and David realised that the man was trying to put him down in front of Sarah.

‘And I can see that you are a civilian. No doubt in a cushy job.’

Huntley tried to keep his expression neutral but smarted from the tall, broad-shouldered soldier’s insinuation that he was avoiding military service, hiding behind some job considered important to the war effort. ‘I have a position with the Prime Minister’s Department,’ he said defensively. ‘I only wish that I had been free to join up, but my role is a little more valuable to our country than that of a junior army officer, so I am not free to make my own choices.’

‘Ah, a political job,’ David said. ‘The sort that gets wars started.’

‘Gentlemen,’ Sarah said, stepping between the two men. ‘You are both important to the war effort in your own way,’ she said. ‘Let us forget the war, at least for tonight, and enjoy ourselves.’

David could see a pretty but sad-looking woman sitting alone on a couch and decided that if he stayed any longer in the company of Charles Huntley he just might hit him. ‘If you will excuse me,’ he said, and walked over to the young woman. Her jet-black hair was cut fashionably short and she had startling green eyes. She looked up at him.

‘May I sit down?’ he asked, and a glimmer of a welcoming smile appeared on her face. ‘I’m David Macintosh – Sarah’s cousin.’

‘So you are the legendary David Macintosh!’ she
exclaimed. ‘I’m Allison Jenkins, a dear friend of Sarah. We were at school together, and I already know so much about you, I feel we hardly need to be introduced.’

‘I didn’t know I featured so prominently in Sarah’s life,’ David said with a note of surprise. ‘But I’m flattered. I can see that your glass is empty. Could I get you a refill?’

‘Thank you,’ Allison said.

David glanced down at her hand as she offered him the empty glass and saw the wedding ring. ‘Is your husband here tonight?’ he asked.

‘No, Paul is a pilot with the RAAF and he’s been posted overseas. To New Guinea, I think.’

‘It’s tough on those who have to wait at home,’ David said clumsily. ‘The RAAF have a reputation for looking after their boys, though.’ It was a lie – no one was safe in a war zone.

‘I’m sure he will come home to me,’ Allison said, tears in her eyes.

David made his way through the crowd of young people, noticing that he was the only one in uniform. He was joined at the bar by Donald, who was in high spirits and a little flushed by the alcohol.

‘I saw you talking to Allison,’ Donald said. ‘You know she’s married to a RAAF chappie?’

‘So I learned,’ David said.

‘I have a couple of young ladies you ought to meet, both single.’

‘I’m just keeping an eye on Allison for the moment,’ David answered. ‘But I might take you up on the offer afterwards. The poor woman doesn’t even know where her husband has been posted.’

‘Oh, I know,’ Donald said, and David looked up in surprise – he thought postings were supposed to be secret for security reasons.

‘How do you know?’ he asked.

‘The Macintosh name gives me contacts in the highest echelons of government,’ Donald said. ‘Paul has been sent to a place called Milne Bay in New Guinea. Don’t know why, because reports say the Japs are advancing south along a jungle track towards Port Moresby, and Milne Bay is at the eastern tip of the island. But you did not hear that from me.’

David made his way back to Allison. ‘Here you are,’ he said, passing her a drink.

‘I feel a little out of place,’ he confessed, taking a sip from his beer. ‘I’ve been away so long that Australia feels foreign to me now. When I walk along the streets and hear people complaining about the shortages, I get angry because I think of how it is for the chaps risking their lives in the war.’ He shook his head. ‘I guess I should stop talking about my gripes.’

‘No, no,’ Allison said. ‘It seems to me that most of my friends are too selfish to care much about what is happening in the war. It’s only real for those of us who have a loved one fighting in some Godforsaken place somewhere.’

David could see that she was on the verge of tears. ‘They say gin makes you sad,’ he said with a faint smile.

‘But it helps numb the pain of separation,’ Allison responded, taking a sip. ‘I don’t know if you are aware that Sarah thinks you have the soul of one of your ancestors. I suppose that you could say the reincarnation of a man called Michael Duffy.’

‘I have heard that Sarah has that silly notion,’ David said. ‘But I am just plain old David Macintosh.’

‘You are far from that, from all I have heard of your exploits before the war,’ Allison said. ‘One could say that you are bigger than life.’

‘More flattery,’ David grinned, warming to the pretty young woman. ‘Well, it will be my duty to make you smile, as the wife of a man in blue.’

‘Thank you, David,’ Allison said. ‘I was tempted not to come tonight, but Sarah persuaded me it would help relieve my loneliness. I miss Paul, although we didn’t know each other for very long before we got married. I suppose it’s like that in these times when life can be so short for so many fighting overseas.’

‘We all figure we won’t be the one to cop it,’ David said. ‘It’ll always happen to the bloke next to us.’

‘Sadly, they must have thought the same thing before they lost their lives,’ Allison said.

‘How about we change the subject and you tell me a bit about yourself,’ he said. ‘I need to catch up on what has been happening around Sydney since I was last here.’

Allison brightened and for the next half-hour David made her laugh with his offbeat sense of humour. At one stage when he glanced up he saw Sarah watching him with an enigmatic expression. Eventually he excused himself to go outside into the gardens to be alone. It was like that for him when he was in company: after a while he preferred to be with nature rather than people.

Outside, he stood and gazed over the harbour at the merchant freighter and warships at anchor. Music and laughter drifted to him from the mansion, and after a
moment he became aware that he was not alone. To his right he saw Sarah and Charles Huntley step into the garden, unaware of his presence.

‘You’ve been looking at that Macintosh man all night,’ he heard Huntley say in an angry voice. ‘Should I remind you who you are with tonight?’

‘I have not seen David for so long,’ Sarah countered. ‘Why should I not look at him?’

‘Everyone knows you are infatuated with him,’ Charles said, raising his voice and reaching for her arm.

‘Charles, you’re hurting me,’ Sarah protested.

‘Let her go,’ David growled, stepping from the shadows.

Charles released his grip and glared at David. ‘I should warn you, Macintosh, that I played rugby.’

‘So did I,’ David said with a dangerous smile. ‘And I also learned to kill people.’

‘Is that a threat?’ Huntley said.

‘Take it any way you want,’ David said, staring into the man’s eyes.

‘Sarah, I will leave and hope that by tomorrow morning you have come to your senses,’ Huntley said, and stormed away into the darkness.

‘You didn’t have to come to my rescue,’ Sarah said, rubbing her arm. ‘Charles wouldn’t have hurt me.’

‘From what I saw, he was doing a good impression of hurting you,’ David mused. ‘Guess it is my job to look after family.’

‘I still remember the day you stood up for us in that Berlin cafe, and I know how much pain it caused you as a consequence,’ Sarah said. ‘I have never forgotten the way I looked into your eyes that day and recognised a man I was meant to be with.’

‘You were a kid,’ David said awkwardly.

‘I am not a child now, David, and my feelings for you have just grown stronger,’ Sarah said softly, leaning up to kiss David on the lips.