And Fire Falls (20 page)

‘I’m going down,’ he shouted over his transmitter, not bothering to identify his call sign. ‘Goddamn!’ he swore as the aircraft continued to glide and fall towards the relative safety of the jungle. ‘Just a little more,’ he said, coaxing the mortally wounded Wildcat as if it was a living thing.

Glancing out of his cockpit James could see that he was now clear of the water and above the jungle, albeit jungle held by the enemy. He slid the cockpit canopy back and felt the wind whipping at his face as he unbuckled his seatbelt and prepared to bail out. He had never parachuted before but that fear was well and truly overwhelmed by his fear of the flames now consuming the fuselage. He realised that he was very low to the ground and wondered if his parachute would open in time. Still, death from crashing into the ground was far preferable to being burned alive in the cockpit.

With all his strength, James forced himself up out of the seat, and the wind tearing past him pulled him from the cabin, now being licked by flames. He felt himself wrenched into the air and, after a second or two, commenced falling to the green-covered hills below. He grabbed at the handle of his chute and pulled with all his strength.

Nothing happened!

James closed his eyes. He knew he would not even have a chance to pray before he crashed into the trees. He was not even aware he was screaming a word he had never had the chance to use before. Maybe it was because he felt that she would be waiting for him in another world of peace beyond his own death.

‘Mother!’

Only the wind and sky heard his helpless cry as he hurtled earthward.

19

S
uddenly James felt his body snatched upwards as his chute opened. He saw his burning fighter crash into the canopy of the jungle and explode in a ball of flames.

He began floating downwards but within seconds the treetops had come up to snatch at him. He crashed through the branches and hit the soggy earth below in a world of still, dark shadows.

James could hardly believe that he had survived. His fall had been heavy, and he ached all over from the impact of the ground, but he was able to sit up and unbuckle the parachute harness. He made a quick evaluation of his situation. Other than his .45 pistol with just one spare magazine, and a razor-sharp bowie knife, he had nothing else to help him survive. He estimated that he had fallen into territory still patrolled by the Japanese, and the downing of his aircraft might inspire them to make a search for him if they’d seen his parachute open above the trees.

That it had not opened until he was barely above the treetops might be a good thing, James thought. He knew that his best hope of getting back to Henderson was to stick to the coastline and to try to signal to one of the Catalina amphibious aircraft that flew rescue missions. However, he had no radio and he knew the hope of being picked up was very remote. His other option was to travel south through the dense jungle, which might bring him into an area patrolled by his own forces. Of course he had to do this avoiding Japanese patrols and without starving to death.

James rubbed his body down in an attempt to erase the bruises he had sustained from the heavy landing. He recovered his parachute and concealed it beneath some rotting branches. Then he made an educated guess in which direction the coast lay before stepping off with his .45 in his hand. He doubted that the enemy would take him alive, and even if they did so, would torture him before he was executed.

*

Not far away, a Solomon Islander rowed his canoe ashore, glancing around carefully before pulling it up on the beach. He had been at sea when the American aircraft had attacked the landing barges and he had seen one of the American fighter planes go down in the jungle. He had first thought that the pilot was dead as he watched the man freefalling through the air, then he noticed that a white cloud burst above his head.

He knew what a parachute was and, as part of the white master’s coastwatching organisation, he knew he should report the incident. He made his way into the jungle and took a barely noticeable path until he came to a concealed clearing with a lean-to hut. In the hut he could see the coastwatcher, a bearded Australian who had once been a plantation manager. The man wore shirt and shorts with no military insignia, but he had a rifle by his side as he transmitted a message in code to the American navy at sea.

The Solomon Islander approached him with his news.

*

James finally found the coast near dark. The sight of the open sea devoid of any shipping made it seem as though the war was a figment of his imagination. He slumped down beneath a swaying coconut palm and gazed hopefully up and down the coast. All he could see was water already softening with the advent of night, and the gentle small waves washing ashore. James realised that he was very thirsty and knew that he must find water before anything else. He tried to remember all his survival training lectures.

The coconut trees!

He searched amongst the foliage on the edge of the beach and found one of the large green-coloured nuts that had fallen to the ground. With his knife he dug at the outer husk until he was able to bore a hole to the core. He lifted the nut and felt the clear liquid dribble into his mouth. Never had he tasted anything so delicious, and he drank until there was not a drop of coconut milk left.

His thirst quenched, James pulled palm fronds over himself as camouflage and settled down for the night. As darkness fell, sandflies and mosquitoes feasted on his body. For a moment he felt pity for his marine buddies who were with the infantry section of the United States marines. They would have to put up with this on a daily basis on their patrols into the jungle.

Sleep did not come and around midnight James thought he heard voices. His senses suddenly became acutely tuned to his surroundings. The voices were not far away and with a chill of fear he realised that they were Japanese voices. Very carefully, he ensured that the fronds were still covering his body. The voices came closer, and the fact that the Japanese soldiers were talking at night made James think they felt safe and well away from any American patrols. He gripped his pistol and prayed that he would not have to use it.

Then a glow from a newly lit campfire crept over him, and from where he lay on his side he could see the outline of three Japanese soldiers a mere ten feet away. They were so close that if they decided to walk around their perimeter they would stand on him. He could see that they were very relaxed, and he wondered at the stupidity of them lighting a fire so close to the beach. They were laughing, and one of them rose with a long pole in his hand.

A fishing rod! They were a fishing party, not a fighting patrol. James relaxed only slightly as one of the men walked away from the fire to the beach. He knew that he must remain vigilant while they were so close, and if discovered he would have to fight it out. As he observed the three men he realised they were not unlike himself and his friends at beach parties before the war. They shared a bottle of what James thought was saki and joked with each other. James had never seen the enemy so close before. For him the enemy was a head in a cockpit, or tiny figures shuddering with machine gun bullets as he carried out strafing missions. But now what he saw were three young men just like him. He could even see that one of the men was taller and wore spectacles. He looked more like a college student and appeared to be the stronger personality of the three. They took turns with the fishing pole and occasionally returned with a fish to throw on the fire. The smell of cooking fish made James salivate. He had the sudden mad idea that he could rush them, seize their fish and eat it himself. It was a crazy idea, and instead James just waited patiently until the fire was extinguished and the fishing party finally left. Only then did he snatch a little sleep.

When the sun rose on another day, James cautiously removed his concealing fronds and crept over to the fire where he found one of the cooked fish only half-eaten. He snatched it up and finished it off.

‘Thanks, guys,’ he said. It was as if he had shared the evening with them and they had left this fish behind for him. But James was under no illusions that had they discovered him they would have killed him.

Even though the unexpected meal had given him
strength to continue his trek along the coast, James decided that he should remain where he was, as he felt that his skills on foot in the jungle were not to the high standard of his flying experience. He made a better concealed position and only left it to scavenge for coconuts. The Japanese did not return and so James’s wait went on for five days.

*

Sarah and Donald rarely spoke to each other on a social basis these days, but the telephone call from Donald was a plea for a truce. Olivia, working with the American Red Cross had received a telegram to say that her brother was officially listed as missing in action. She was distraught and Donald wondered whether Sarah, as someone who had known James, could join them.

Sarah sat back in her office chair and let the sad news sink in. She had met James when they had shared their European holiday back in 1936; he was a handsome young man and she’d had a bit of a crush on him. She had not seen him since and had to be honest with herself and admit she felt little for his loss. Donald’s entreating her to join him and Olivia at their mother’s flat was a big step. Sarah had been estranged from her mother for many years, blaming her for leaving them for another man when they were young. Her father had told Sarah that her mother cared little for her, and she had accepted his story.

However, she would do as her brother had asked and she informed her secretary that she would have to miss her afternoon meetings.

Sarah caught a taxi to her mother’s place, took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Her mother opened the door, and for a moment both women stared at each other.

‘Come in, darling,’ Louise said. ‘It is good to see you.’

Sarah stepped inside the small but comfortable flat overlooking the harbour. She followed her mother to the living room where Olivia sat on a couch, red-eyed and wringing a handkerchief. Donald sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders, and Sarah could see a man with a walking stick standing to one side.

‘Sarah,’ Louise said, ‘I would like you to meet Mr Sean Duffy. He is a dear friend.’

Sean Duffy! The man who had taken her mother from her! Sarah felt anger rising. How dare she introduce the man who had caused so much pain in her life.

‘I think I should go, Mother,’ Sarah said coldly.

‘No, don’t do that,’ Sean said. ‘I was just leaving.’

With that, Sean made his way from the room, with an understanding nod of his head towards Louise. When he closed the door behind him Sarah turned on her mother. ‘How dare you allow that man to be here when I am?’

‘Mr Duffy is part of my life, as are you and your brother,’ Louise said. ‘His presence was not intended to embarrass you. Donald felt that you coming to see Olivia might ease her pain.’

Sarah indicated for her mother to step away out of hearing of Donald and Olivia. ‘I don’t even like the woman,’ she said. ‘I have only come to support my brother.’

‘I know that you and your brother have had your differences, but he has to cope with Olivia’s pain, and he needs you to help him get through that. Death is a time for family to reconcile – life can be so short.’

Sarah looked at Louise with a strained expression. She could see the pain in her mother’s face and it was not simply for Olivia’s loss.

‘Why did you ask Donald to have me come here?’ she asked.

‘To give Olivia support,’ Louise answered. ‘And so I could see you.’

‘After all the years apart you suddenly wish to see me,’ Sarah scoffed. ‘It was you who left Father.’

‘I know that your father has told you many lies, and I was hoping that with time you would see through them,’ Louise said gently. ‘I have always prayed that one day you would knock on my door and ask me for my side of what happened. But your father’s lies held you to him. You don’t know how many tears I have cried remembering the little baby in my arms I loved above all. But I was forced to give you and your brother up to your father – I would have gone mad if I had stayed in that house with him – and Sean Duffy helped me heal. He is a gentle man, a loving man.’ Louise took a fortifying breath. ‘No, I have never stopped thinking about you, and today I suggested to your brother he ask you to come here. I have my own selfish reason.’

‘What selfish reason is that?’ Sarah asked uncertainly.

‘I wanted to see you again before I die. I have cancer and there is nothing that can be done to stop the progress of the disease,’ Louise said.

Stunned, Sarah stared at her mother. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘I was diagnosed a few weeks ago, and the doctors have given me less than three months to live,’ Louise said. ‘I wanted you to see me while I was still relatively well. But if you simply wish to pay your condolences to Olivia and leave, I will understand.’

Sarah suddenly realised that her eyes were filling with tears, although she desperately attempted to keep her composure. Life was not black and white, as her father would insist. What if her mother was telling the truth about why she left? Sarah was not totally blind to her father’s failings. ‘I . . . I think I should leave,’ she said. ‘Please pass on my condolences to Olivia. I hope she will understand.’

‘I pray that you will come back to visit me soon,’ Louise said. Sarah felt the urge to hug her mother, but she resisted it. There was so much to take in, she didn’t know whether she felt sorry for her mother or furious with her.

*

It was near midday on the sixth day when James saw the Catalina flying boat skimming low along the horizon towards his position. A stupid thing to do, James thought. The aircraft was behind enemy lines and could easily attract unwelcome attention either from ground fire or enemy fighters. Then it dawned on James that the aircraft must be searching for someone.

Caring little if the Japanese were nearby, he flung himself out of the cover of the trees at the edge of the beach and ran to the shoreline, where he began waving frantically. He could even see an observer in the aircraft’s waist bubble as the aircraft began to climb and make a turn. James prayed it was coming in to land and his prayer was answered when the graceful floatplane put down on the placid sea and taxied as close to the beach as it could. The engines were running but a yellow inflatable dinghy appeared from the flying boat. It was paddled to James who had now waded out into the sea.

‘Captain James Duffy?’ the crewman asked.

‘That’s me,’ James said as he was pulled over the side. ‘How did you know I was out here?’

‘Aussie coastwatcher sent us a report that you were seen parachuting into the jungle a few days back,’ the crewman replied, immediately paddling the dinghy towards the waiting seaplane rocking gently on the surf. ‘Goddamned miracle that we found you.’

James came aboard and the Catalina roared a bumpy takeoff until it was airborne. James sat with his back against the bulkhead and was passed a thermos of hot coffee. The coffee was the second best thing he had ever drunk.

*

Sir George Macintosh had returned from a two-week trip to Canberra and was met by Sarah.

‘It is good to have you home again,’ she said as the chauffeur followed her father up the steps with his bags.

‘It is good to see you,’ Sir George said. ‘I expect you will bring me up to date on all that has been happening since my last departure.’

Sarah led her father inside the house and had a tray of tea and biscuits delivered to the living room where her father slumped wearily on a couch.