Stuart Slade: A Mighty Endeavor

“She is, and a fine aircraft. A good partner. I’m Bosede; Pim to my friends.”

“Sean Mannix, 47 Squadron. That’s my Maryland over there. GGeorge . We got pulled out of Egypt a few days ago and ordered here. No idea why.”

“Iraq’s a nice, quiet area. Guess the powers that be decided we needed a rest.”

“Might be, Pim; might be. Why don’t you come over and I’ll introduce you to my crew?”

“According to the note of protest, two Ju-90 reconnaissance aircraft were damaged in the attack.” Sir Arnold Robins looked at the copy of the report again. “The damage is really quite minor; amounts to no more than a few bullet holes really. Nobody was hurt, although one of our regular policemen twisted his ankle while searching for the shooters.”

“It sounds more like vandalism, or even just youthful high spirits, than an organized attack.” Lord Halifax was very reluctant to admit there was anything more to the incident than a few farmers, probably very drunk, taking pot-shots at parked aircraft. He wasn’t even certain whether who owned the aircraft would have made much difference.

“The German note says as much, Prime Minister. They make light of the situation and imply that, taken by itself, it is of little account. However, they do suggest it points to a risk that a more organized and effective attack may take place one day and that an ounce of prevention now would be better than a pound of cure later.”

“And just what would that ounce of prevention be?” R. A. B. Butler sounded slightly suspicious.

“The note draws our attention to the fact that the police guarding the gate at Tangmere airfield were unarmed. In this case, it would have made no real difference to the situation, but they suggest that the replacement of unarmed British regular police by armed personnel would reassure the authorities in Germany.”

“Sounds like a job for the Auxiliaries. When we set them up, defending airfields and factories was explicitly included in their remit.”

“My thoughts exactly, Foreign Secretary. The Germans also suggest that improving liaison between the Auxiliaries and the German reconnaissance detachments would be worthwhile. They suggest a corporal’s guard of Luftwaffe police be allowed to reside at the bases. Purely to maintain order amongst the German personnel and liaise with the Auxiliaries.”

“German troops on British soil. I do not think so.” Halifax didn’t like the way this was going at all.

“Luftwaffe police, Prime Minister, not troops.” Butler was at his oiliest, positively oozing reassurance. “A corporal and eight privates, at most armed with a pistol for the corporal and truncheons for the rest. They would not be allowed off the base and their responsibilities would be restricted to dealing with the German Luftwaffe personnel. I believe, even in Germany, the Luftwaffe police do not even have the power to arrest civilians but must summon the ordinary police to make an arrest. I do not see any great problem here.”

“Perhaps not.” Halifax read the complaint from the German Embassy again. “I just wish this hadn’t happened; that’s all. We have no idea who fired those shots?”

“None, Prime Minister. An investigation revealed nothing.”

“Pity. Some stern punishment of the offenders might have been more useful than these measures. Very well, Richard, I will approve these measures. Replace the regular police with Auxiliaries and tell the Germans that they may send assign a corporal’s guard of Luftwaffe police to each of the bases they use. For deployment on the base. It must be clearly understood they may not set one foot outside the airfield perimeter. See to the arrangements, Sir Arnold.”

“Yes, Prime Minister.”

Bangkok had proper fighter protection at last. A whole squadron of Tomahawks lined up alongside the runways. They lacked the garish shark’s tooth markings sported by the Commonwealth Tomahawks. Instead, they had a leaping tiger painted on to their tails. The Thai Tigers . Squadron Leader Suchart rolled the name around in his head. It had a ring to it .

The airfield was the staging point for the new aircraft. There were some of the new American dive bombers being readied for transfer to an attack squadron and a number of DB-7 bombers had been flown in from India. Suchart looked around for his friend Pappy, but the American was nowhere to be seen. Left to his own devices, he wandered over to the DB-7s. They were different from any he had seen before. The nose was solid instead of glazed. It had the barrels of eight .50-caliber machine guns sticking out of it. They were also painted a dark blue-gray.

“Looking at your new aircraft Khun Suchart?” The voice from behind him was hearty and encouraging. Suchart turned to see Group Captain Fuen standing behind him.

“These are mine? But, Sir, I am a fighter pilot…” Suchart was deeply distressed. The words ‘fighter pilots and lesser men’ echoed in his mind. What will Pappy say when he finds out I have been transferred to bombers?

Group Captain Fuen slapped him on the back. “And these are fighters. Night fighters. You are the only fighter pilot in the Air Force with a kill scored at night. In fact, there are very few men in the world today with that distinction. So you will command our new squadron of night-fighters; the only such squadron in the whole region. They are more than just that though. These are intruders. Your job will not just be to defend our capital at night but also to take the battle to the enemy, hunt him down on his bases and destroy him there. With our bombers in the day and your intruders at night, those who threaten us will get no sleep.”

He paused for a second and suddenly the joviality had gone. “Suchart, these aircraft are probably the most important of all the ones that have been delivered to us. Our greatest vulnerability is our wooden cities. If they are set on fire, the results will be a national catastrophe. We could see tens of thousands of our wives and daughters dying in the flames. Our enemies know this well and already they talk of exploiting it. Even the threat of firebombing is something we must take very seriously. So, every defense we can mount against the threat of bombing is vital to us. You understand now? We must learn to fight at night and you are the only one who has done so successfully. Suchart, I do not exaggerate when I say that every person in our capital is relying on you. Don’t let them down.”

Fuen went off to inspect another group of new aircraft, leaving Suchart to look at the DB-7 with new eyes. He still wasn’t entirely convinced it was a fighter. He looked underneath and saw the bomb bay. That increased his doubts on the point a bit further. Then he looked at the battery of machine guns in the nose and remembered his hunt for the Farman bombers over the city. That made him content.

The package arrived on Colonel Masanobu Tsuji’s desk. It had been posted from abroad, Singapore, to be precise, and was very carefully wrapped. It slightly mystified him, since he had no idea what was in it. However, he had gone to great lengths to establish a chain of correspondents all over the Far East. All he could think of was that one of them had found something very important indeed. It also meant that the person responsible had been astute enough to work out who he was and discover how to contact him.

The package was a welcome introduction to what was otherwise a frustrating day. With the collapse of his Indochina plan, he was trying to work out how to get at the wealth of resources that lay in South East Asia. It was by no means as easy as he had hoped. Strategic options were closing in fast and the age-old rivalry between the Army and the navy didn’t help matters. He sincerely hoped that this package would contain the answers. Something had to. Japan’s imperial destiny had been thrown into doubt. He used a knife on his desk to cut the string and brown paper that wrapped the box. Inside that was another cardboard box, also carefully secured. Inside that was a brown paper bag. Tsuji spilled the contents of the bag on to his desk. A dozen bottles. It took a few seconds for the significance of the words “hair removing lotion” to sink in. When it did, his scream of anger could be heard all over the building.