Эдвин Грей - Diving Stations

‘What happens if we find them?’ Mannon asked. Hamilton stared at him impassively. ‘Don’t ask bloody silly questions, Number One. If you find them – kill them.’

‘But suppose they surrender, sir?’

Hamilton unholstered his revolver and broke it open to check that the cylinder was fully loaded. ‘The Japanese do not surrender, Mister Mannon,’ he said coldly. ‘To lay down their arms when they are still capable of fighting would be regarded as an act of dishonour.’

‘Not always, Lieutenant…’

Hamilton spun around as he recognized the voice. His right hand swung up and his finger tightened on the trigger as he saw Commander Aritsu, another officer and two ratings emerge from the trees and walk slowly down the beach towards him. Aritsu’s hands were stretched out in front of his body and he was bearing his sheathed sword.

‘Stop where you are, Commander!’ As Suma’s captain obeyed the order, Hamilton turned to Mannon. ‘It could be a trap. Search the bushes. If you find anybody hiding… shoot them!’

‘There is no one else, Lieutenant.’ Aritsu told him quietly. ‘I regret to inform you that we are the only survivors.’ He bowed stiffly, ‘Permit me to hand you my sword.’

Hamilton flicked the safety catch of the Webley as the Commander took a pace forward. ‘Stay where you are! Throw the sword on the ground.’

Aritsu hesitated for a moment and then obeyed. Hamilton lowered his revolver fractionally. Although he had Suma’s captain at his mercy, he intended to take no chances. His brain worked quickly as he considered what to do with his unexpected bonus. According to the book, he should take all four of them prisoner and hand them over to the proper authorities when Rapier returned to base. But as things stood at the moment, he could not even be certain that the submarine would ever succeed in reaching a friendly harbor, and with a shortage of stores and fresh water he saw no reason for carrying any extra passengers. He had little doubt what the fate of his men would be if they fell into the hands of the Japanese in similar circumstances.

‘I should take you back and have you charged with war crimes, Commander.’

‘You found the junk then?’

Hamilton parried the question. ‘I always thought that an officer of the Imperial Navy was a man of honor. Having seen what you did to the crew I realize I was wrong◦– the Japanese are nothing but a race of sadistic barbarians!’ Sub-Lieutenant Mihoro had not spoken since Aritsu had led the survivors out to surrender. His small black eyes watched the English submarine commander with the chilling intensity of a mongoose stalking a snake. It was apparent from the expression on his face that he had no respect for Suma’s captain and Hamilton’s accusation stirred him to life.

‘You are directing your insults at the wrong man, Lieutenant! Commander Aritsu had no part in the affair. I carried out the interrogation of the crew.’ His eyes blazed suddenly, as if defying Hamilton to do something lo him. ‘Is this correct, Commander?’

Aritsu shook his head. ‘Any action taken against prisoners is my responsibility. When I saw the oil drums I knew they were intended for your submarine. It was my duty to obtain information. Mihoro was merely the instrument who carried out my instructions.’

Realizing that he had just signed his own death warrant, he bowed politely and composed himself with dignity to await Hamilton’s inevitable order.

‘I appreciate your candour, Commander. Perhaps I was mistaken in saying you were a man without honor.’ Hamilton stared hard and deep into Aritsu’s eyes as he put the question. ‘Did you tell your Sub-Lieutenant how the interrogations were to be carried out?’

‘No… I left him to do whatever he thought fit.’

‘He was too weak!’ Mihoro spat defiantly. ‘He went back to his ship so that he did not have to witness what happened. He is not fit to serve the Emperor.’

Hamilton switched his attention to the Korean. His eyes were completely expressionless as he looked at him, and his index finger was trembling on the trigger of his revolver. ‘You are the one who interrogated Chai Chen?’

‘If you mean the girl◦– yes. And I succeeded. She told me all about the island and your plans to use it as a secret refueling base. She was stubborn◦– but I consider myself to be an expert in such matters…

Hamilton’s right arm came up before Mannon or anyone else could stop him.

The sudden crack of the revolver sent the birds wheeling into the sky with fright, and Mihoro clutched his stomach as the heavy caliber bullet threw him backwards into the sand. Forcing himself up onto his knees, he stared wide-eyed at the British officer, and then folded forward. It was a slow and agonizing way to die, and the Korean’s body threshed wildly as he tried to staunch the blood with his hands. Hamilton waited a brief moment and then fired again. Mihoro jerked as the bullet struck his head and then, suddenly, he was still.

Every eye was on Hamilton as he turned towards Aritsu and the Japanese Commander braced himself in readiness. Yet, even in the face of death, his expression remained as impassive as ever and he held himself with quiet dignity.

Hamilton lowered the gun and bent forward. He said nothing but, picking up the sword, he walked towards Aritsu and handed it to him hilt-first.

The Japanese officer understood the gesture. He bowed politely, took the weapon from Hamilton’s hands, and bowed again. Unable to control his emotions any longer, he began to weep silently, the tears trickling down his cheeks as he struggled to find the right words.

‘You are a chivalrous man, Lieutenant Hamilton,’ he said very quietly. ‘I pray that my ancestors will look kindly upon you and protect you in battle.’

‘Thank you, Commander. I appreciate that you were only doing your duty as you saw it. The ways of Japan are something that we in Europe will never fully understand.’ Hamilton paused for a moment. ‘Although I know you would never countenance the barbarities employed by your Sub-Lieutenant to obtain information, you have acted in accordance with the traditions of the Imperial Navy by accepting responsibility for what happened because you were the senior officer. You must therefore die◦– but you may die with honor.’

Aritsu bowed his acknowledgement. Getting down on his knees in front of the lieutenant, he pulled open his bush shirt and unfastened the belt of his uniform trousers. Hamilton swallowed his instinctive revulsion and steeled himself to witness the barbaric, yet strangely noble, ceremony Aritsu was about to perform. Seppuku ◦– ritual suicide.

Grasping the hilt of the sword with both hands the Japanese directed the point of the blade against the center of his stomach, closing his eyes as if summoning up the spiritual strength he needed to perform the act, and with a sudden powerful jerk of his arms, rammed the sword into his body. He uttered no sound despite the agony of the self-inflicted wound and, closing his eyes, he moved the blade upwards to make the first vertical incision.

Hamilton felt the bile rising in his throat but, out of respect for the ancient traditions of a brave man, he forced his unwilling eyes to watch. Blood was already welling from Aritsu’s belly, and the grey-mauve mass of his intestines protruded obscenely from the wound as he centered the point of the sword for the second cut. Mills, the young cockney able seaman from Poplar, who had never even seen a chicken have its throat cut, suddenly rolled his eyes and collapsed on to the sand in a dead faint. The other submariners looked away from the horrific spectacle and prayed it would soon be over. Only Mannon, like his skipper, stood firm and faced it out.