None of A Company had any idea that other guerrillas had found their tracks and had been shadowing them since their airdrop. The euphoric soldiers were, somewhat naturally, less keyed-up than they normal. It was early afternoon and Jason saw that his men were tired. ‘Captain saheb, let’s have an earlier halt today. Once we have made our night-stop, the men can relax just that little bit.’
The Company 2ic’s lit up. ‘Saheb, that is a good idea. Anywhere around here will do as the stream we have been following is good water and a pleasure to drink. I’ll arrange it.’
A ‘clearing’ patrol was sent out on a circuitous route about two hundred yards from the overnight base to see if there were any traces of movement. The guerrillas, maybe three hundred yards from the Gurkhas, saw the two ‘clearing’ patrol men moving to their front. ‘Lie low. Do nothing,’ the leader said. They then saw a sentry move out to a flank, about fifty paces distant and take up a position not in their line of sight. ‘We’ll wait till it is dusk, the sentry is recalled and then, by the light of the fires they are sure to have, we will select the most juicy target, their running-dog leader. Till then we’ll wait here.’ They nibbled some almost tasteless dried tapioca, mouths watering as they smelt the cooking just beyond them.
Jason suddenly felt the urge to defecate. ‘Chakré, I have to move out and hide behind a tree for a few minutes. No need to escort me. I have my rifle. You tell the 2ic and I’ll warn the platoon as I walk through it.’
Off he went with his water bottle (no green toilet paper had been issued since Burma) and was seen by the Deputy. ‘Got you, you blasted imperialist capitalist,’ he mouthed quietly. ‘Get ready to kill him as he squats.’
His men tensed expectantly. Here, at last, was wonderful revenge.
‘Chakré,’ the 2ic said. ‘Follow your saheb at a distance that doesn’t embarrass him and escort him back.’
Unseen by the guerrillas, Chakré moved to a flank and took up a position behind a tree. As Jason squatted, a bird flew past him. He didn’t notice it. Then another. Notice it he did. He heard monkeys screeching, beating branches with sticks. Unusual in the evening, he mused. A tiny mouse deer rustled past, unworried by Jason’s immobility. Bear, tiger or men on the move? If so, not ours.
Fully relieved he lay forward to do up his buttons and picked up his rifle but he stayed bent over, as though he were still relieving himself. A few feet to his front was a stick of wood. He reached for it, took his jungle hat off his head and put it on the stick. Slowly he raised it as though he were standing up, arranging his clothes.
Chakré, too, jungle-wise, had fully understood the signs of men. Still standing by the tree he peered in the direction of the monkeys’ noise. Men moving towards my saheb? He left his tree and something moving caught his eye. He stopped and peered into the gloom. His sharp ears caught the sound of a foot hitting a fallen log. Men! As though pulled by some invisible magnet, he moved wraith-like towards the noise. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his saheb’s hat moving slightly, as though its wearer were about to stand up. He switched his sight to the noise, saw three men stand up and aim – at the hat! At my saheb! Chakré aimed at the middle of the three and fired just before the man stalking Jason did. A bullet went high over Chakré’s head as the shot had startled the firer and disturbed his aim. Simultaneously another daku shot Jason’s hat off the stick. Chakré again fired and heard a loud cry. Firing stopped and he heard a rustling as the two unwounded guerrillas pulled their wounded comrade away.
The company had ‘stood to’ on hearing the shooting and heard Chakré shout, ‘Saheb, it’s Chakré here. Come to me and we’ll go and see if we can capture the daku.’
Jason, picking up his hat, shouted out, ‘the section on the perimeter this side come out and join us,’ and, seeing Chakré, joined him. It took just too long to react at such short notice that by the time the section joined Chakré and Jason, it was too dark to go any farther. ‘What is that?’ asked one, pointing to the ground. He bent down and picked up a cap. He squinted at it and saw it had a red star in the front. He looked inside but by then it was too dark to see if there was any blood.’
‘Back to camp,’ Jason called.
The 2ic came up to him. ‘Saheb, any damage?’
By the light of a cooking fire Jason showed him his hat with a bullet hole each side. ‘I heard the sounds of birds and monkeys make on men or a wild animal approaching so I put my hat on a stick and kept low myself so I was in no danger,’ he said, ‘but without Chakré the result could have been different.’
I’m glad I sent the lad out the 2ic thought.
‘Saheb, I doubt they will come back but we cannot take that for granted. Double the sentries and have a proper stand to at 0545 hours tomorrow. Once it’s light we’ll go and see if we can find those daku who fired at me.’ A few minutes later Chakré brought him a brew of hot tea. Jason said, ‘Chakré, I owe my life to you. I’ll never forget it.’
That night, in his troubled state, he had another dream: he was walking up the church aisle, having put on his ceremonial uniform. His feet felt cold and he looked down, he was bare-footed. ‘Stay as you are,’ said his Best Man. Then ‘do your shirt up, it’s open,’ the Best Man whispered. Jason turned and saw everyone in the pews either side were looking at him. Then the padre, whose face was like a guerrilla’s, came down and shook him. ‘Saheb, it’s Chakré here. You have had a bad dream. Don’t worry, all will be well now.’
The next morning ‘fan’ patrols went out on bearings from 10 to 90 degrees and one of them, after only twenty minutes moving cautiously, saw a body – is it in a firing position? – at the base of a tree. ‘Don’t go any farther forward,’ murmured the patrol commander. ‘Let us watch it closely.’
After ten minutes of no movement at all, the patrol commander softly said, ‘It’s dead. The daku don’t leave their dead behind like that. The other daku who were with him will be in an ambush position, thinking we won’t think of that.’ He considered his options. ‘You two,’ he detailed them, ‘go back to the company base and tell the saheb what we’ve found. Bring back enough men to get behind the corpse but only bring the commander to where we are. Off you go.’
Hidden close by and watching the corpse, one of the two remaining guerrillas said, ‘we’ll give them another two hours to find it. We have a long way to go and we can’t take him with us. Great Lenin, we were sent away with too few men,’ and he relapsed into stony silence.
Within the hour Jason and his ‘O’ Group of two platoon commanders, with phantom quietness, reached the watching patrol. The corpse was pointed out. ‘I haven’t seen anyone else,’ admitted the patrol commander, ‘but it is so unlike the daku to leave a body behind, there may be an ambush.’
‘You couldn’t have done better,’ Jason breathed his reply. ‘I’ll take my men back and go round to the rear of the corpse, keeping well out of sight. Once I have decided that the area is empty, I’ll emerge to where the corpse is, so don’t open fire. If there is anyone else and we can deal with them, you’ll know soon enough.’
His ‘O’ Group silently withdrew and, one platoon to the right and the other to the left, moved to a position about three hundred yards to the rear of the corpse. Then, having met up, they moved forward in extended line, weapons ready, eyes a-quiver left and right. It was the section commander next to Jason who saw two bodies, lying down facing in the direction the Gurkhas were moving, about ten paces away. He put his arm up, the signal to halt. All eyes were on them: everyone saw that they were either dozing or had fallen asleep,
Jason signalled to right and left, gesticulating by moving his fingers as though walking quietly and opening and closing his arms as though to hold on to, that is say, capture the two men. Four men on each side went forward, quietly as though on tiptoe and, standing above the men, who they saw were dozing, were just about to pounce on them when they both ‘felt a presence’ and turned round. It was their last free movement. They were overpowered by the Gurkhas who hauled them to their feet. Jason went forward and spoke to them in Chinese. ‘Are you the men who fired on us last evening?’
One of the daku spat in disgust and said, ‘filthy imperialist running dog.’
Jason then damned them both, with the most devastating curse known to the Chinese, ‘Ch’uan Jia Chan’, May your entire family be wiped out.
‘Who are you? What are your names? Although I have cursed you I am not a bully. I’ll take you back to our camp. You look tired and hungry. If you tell me truthfully who you are, where you are based and other questions that I ask you, I’ll cook food for you and let you rest.’
The older looking of the two spat again. ‘Curse you, too, gwai lo.’
Jason took his rifle, loaded it and pointed it at the man’s foot. ‘Say that again …’
The man was about to speak when the other man cried out, ‘No, no. I’ll tell you all …’
His companion told him to be quiet and Jason fired, missing the elder man’s foot by a quarter of an inch. The man jumped back in alarm, pulling his captives with him.
Through clenched teeth, he told Jason who he was, finishing up with being Tan Fook Leong’s deputy.
‘Were you in the ambush that killed that British officer?’
No answer.
Jason loaded his rifle. ‘I won’t kill you. Just make it impossible for you to be a father ever again and leave you here to rot.’ I can’t actually see myself doing that …
The man sighed deeply and muttered, ‘Yes.’
Jason ordered them to be bound with the toggle ropes that men had hanging from the belts. ‘Take your khukris and cut down a branch. Hang the corpse from it and our prisoners will take it to our camp. I will make my way back separately and get on the blower and ask for a heli to take them away. This man has admitted he was in the ambush that killed the Commanding saheb.’
Back in their overnight camp Jason put a call through to Battalion HQ and, once Acorn was on set, told him what had happened and who they had captured. ‘I want a heli to take them out as they are Ten Foot Long’s number 2 and two others. Instead of my searching for a good place for a Lima Papa, suggest you send 96 Foxtrot to overfly my area which is …’ and he gave a six-figure grid reference.
‘1. Here is Sunray. Wait out.’
