Chapter 307
Technically his place was within the command centre watching the RDF plot of the approaches but Air Vice Marshal Browning was standing at the southernmost point of Singapore Island and stared into the early morning mist through a pair of Zeiss Binoculars that he had bought before the war.
“Anything yet?” he asked no one in particular and the group of men standing a few steps behind him, staring in the same direction.
“Nothing, Sir.”
Browning didn't show it but he was more than worried. The water reserves on the Island would last at best for another three or four days and while the destroyer reservoirs were being repaired the base lacked everything from concrete to construction equipment and re-building the distribution systems would take time that the Fortress simply would not have if the convoy did not arrive at all.
Keeping it's existence secret as intended had been an exercise in futility from the start but he had deployed most of his MPs and reserve forces around the base to keep thirsty civvies from storming it and now he was waiting for the fleet to arrive.
Singapore's last operational Wellington was out trying to find the fleet, but no luck so far. What they had seen was an empty ocean, but this Wellington only had the crews eyes to penetrate the darkness.
Browning resisted the urge to begin pacing back and forth in the way his wife hated so much.
He needed this convoy to get through. It was absolutely vital for the fortress at large and him personally because if he was perfectly honest, he was at his wits ends.
“THERE!”
Someone yelled.
Browning stared in the direction indicated and saw nothing. He stared at the early morning mist without seeing anything. He could hear that sweet delicious rumble in the distance that clearly showed that some ships were out there but he couldn't see anything. It was too dark to see far unaided and too bright already for positioning lights and the ships themselves were blacked out.
But then suddenly he saw ship after ship emerging. The ships heading directly for the base were RFA Tankers, but out in the distance in the increasing light Browning could now see a long dark shape that was clearly a ship of war.
Judging by the length and the superstructure it could be only one vessel and that meant that Cunningham was confident enough to risk the big superstars.
This could mean any number of things, but the Hood wouldn't moor until the tankers had been emptied and stay out until then to cover the operations.
He could ask her Captain then, but right now the presence of the tankers meant only one thing, his first hot cup of tea in days.
Two hours and twenty-seven minutes later Browning was holding a tin cup with a few gulps of the best Darjeeling left in it in his hands as he waited for RFA Arnadale to be emptied of her precious cargo. Every fire pump, cleaned out fuel lorry and anything else able to carry fluids fit for human consumption at short notice was used to ferry the water to the distribution points but he was impatient for another arrival.
RFA Arnadale before the war
Normally he would have been expected to go the entire distance and turn out every bloody marching band on the Island but luckily the Convoy Commander had shown sense and sent in the tankers first, so now the Hood, two of the Lights and three Destroyers were trying their best not to get into anyone's way as they made their way to the dock side.
“They are nearly here, Sir.” Browning's chief aide said.
“Well then, let's meet our saviour.”
The man they had been speaking off was walking down Hood's gangway wishing he'd been able to change into his No.1s, but as he saw that the reception party only consisted of Air Vice Marshal Browning who was wearing a standard Army Field Dress with his wings sown on he realized that the locals had better things to do than waste time and that this man had taken Singapore through it's gravest times.
At the bottom of the Gangway salutes were exchanged.
“Commodore Beatty, Commanding Officer of Emergency Convoy S-1 and Master and Commander of Her Majesty's Battlecruiser Hood, at your service Air Vice Marshal.”
“Air Vice Marshal Browning, AOC Singapore Fortress District. And frankly, Commodore, we are sure glad to see you.”
“The Navy is always happy to help the Air Force in cases like this. The Army on the other hand...”
Genuine laughter ran through the group and Browning waited for it to die down.
“Commodore, we haven't been given the full picture, Security and what not. I have to ask now: How long are you going to stay?”
Beattie grinned.
“As long as you will have us, Sir. I have been authorized by the Admiral to tell you that the Dutch have sent the last organized Japanese units on Java to meet their ancestors while the Canadians have kicked the Japanese in the gentlemen's region and the door wide open. The fleet is back for good, Sir. I haven't spoken with anyone for several days, but as of my leaving the Fleet the orders were that you are to prepare for the arrival of several Squadrons with support units over the next few days and the 1st Royal Canadian Marine Division by the middle of the month.”
Stunned silence followed and then suddenly the three cars taking the party to Brownign's residence arrived.
~**---**~
“So anyway,” Colonel Anderson, CO 56 (Heavy) Regiment, Royal Artillery, said to his childhood friend and neighbour who commanded RFA Tidespring, “the bunker's optics and comms are damaged to we use the lads to shift around some of these AA Guns.”
“What happened, Harry?”
“The towline to the lorry snaps and off the gun goes down the hill, with seven Gunners in pursuit, the Lance Bombardier up in front.” Anderson said and laughed.
“At the bottom of the hill is a group of signallers laying the line to the new gun position on top of the hill and the Bofors narrowly avoids running straight into their lorry. It crashes into a ditch a quarter mile further on. So the Lance Bombardier calmly walks up to the lorry and knocks. He lifts his tin hat and says: “Excuse me, have you seen a gun?”
“Out comes one of the signallers and says: “What colour was it?”
More laughter and the unremarkable incident passed into history.[1]
“So anyway,” the Colonel said, what's the situation out there?”
“Improving. The Fleet's finally embarrassed enough to do something about the Nips and it seems I and my kind will be calling here more often.”
“And thank the lord for that!” Anderson exclaimed.
“The AVM had everyone, from the Governor down to the simplest squaddy on the same thirst rations. Now we can at least take our time fixing the pumps and pipes that the Nips destroyed.”
Suddenly perfectly serious Anderson leaned closer to the Merchant Sailor.
“It was a damn near thing, believe you me.”
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Comments, questions, rotten Tomatoes?
[1] Now, that's what everyone thought at the time of course. The BBC and comedy fans all over the world beg to differ.