Yashimoto's Last Dive

Twenty-six

‘You sent for me, sir?’

‘Yes, Number One. Sit down.’

The First Lieutenant lowered his considerable bulk on to the settee. Barratt turned the desk-chair to face him. ‘Time for us to have a chat,’ he said. ‘There wasn’t an opportunity on the bridge with that Catalina messing about.’ The Captain’s smile was warm, friendly. Tve had to make a decision. Like to discuss it with you.’

‘Orders in the message drop?’ suggested the First Lieutenant, his eyes on the canister at the far end of the settee.

‘Information, not orders, Number One. The message has affected my decision. But I want to give you an appreciation of the situation as I see it — and the possible courses of action I’ve had to consider.’ Barratt paused. ‘Now — for a start — we know exactly where the submarine is and, thanks to last night’s recce and the gen from Aba Said and his dad, we have a good idea of what goes on in the creek. You can take it as read that the Catalina’s recent performance has told the Japs that we’re sitting here waiting for them. So they won’t come out. Simple as that.’

The First Lieutenant nodded agreement. ‘Neutral territory. Warship puts in for urgent repairs. Safe haven until she’s ready for sea. The Japs are on a good wicket.’

Barratt glanced at the First Lieutenant with a doubting frown before going to a scuttle to look across the sea to where the dark hump of Maji Island reared itself above a dusky skyline. In the spacious, well-furnished day-cabin the only indication that the ship was at sea was the distant hum of turbines and the occasional creak of the superstructure as Restless responded lazily to the ground swell.

Barratt went back to his desk. Resuming where he’d left off he said, ‘Now for the possible courses of action.’ His eyes were on a pastel of the Singapore waterfront on the opposite bulkhead. It had been a present from Caroline.

During the minutes that followed he outlined the options, dealing last with that of breaking wireless silence to inform Kilindini of the situation and request orders. Almost before Barratt had finished, the First Lieutenant broke in. ‘I take it that’s what you’ll do, sir. Has to be the soundest course of action. Restless has done her stuff. Found the submarine, bottled it up in the creek. Your signal will pass the buck to Captain (D) and Co.’ Sandy Hamilton appeared happier and more relaxed than for some time.

In a quick but decisive way Barratt said, ‘There’s not going to be any passing the buck, Number One. I will break W/T silence, but only to inform Kilindini that we attack the submarine before dawn tomorrow.’

The First Lieutenant showed surprise. ‘I thought you regarded W/T silence as imperative, sir? To preserve the element of surprise. The Japs will pick up the transmission, won’t they?’

Barratt took a cigarette from the silver box on his desk, was about to offer one until he remembered that Hamilton didn’t smoke. He put the cigarette in his mouth. ‘I rather hope they do.’ He lit the cigarette. ‘It doesn’t matter now. The Catalina destroyed any element of surprise we might have had.’

‘So they won’t come out knowing we’re here?’ It was half a question.

‘I don’t suppose they will. But that’s not going to interfere with my plan of attack.’

The First Lieutenant’s concern showed in his face. ‘You’re not going to take Restless into the creek are you, sir? Infringe Portuguese neutrality? Present the Japs with a sitting target?’

‘No, Number One. I shan’t do any of those things.’

‘May I ask, then, how you do propose to attack?’

‘You may. That’s why I sent for you.’ Barratt cleared his throat before going on to outline briefly but with much conviction how the attack would be carried out. ‘So that,’ he said finally, ‘will be Operation Maji Mark Two.'

The First Lieutenant’s changing expressions as Barratt unfolded his plan had conveyed surprise, anxiety and disbelief. Now he said, ‘May I be frank, sir?’

‘Please do.’

‘I think it’s a…’He hesitated, as if embarrassed by the thought of what he’d been about to say. ‘… it’s a very unsound plan, if I may say so. It involves the Admiralty and our Government in an open breach of Portuguese neutrality. Quite apart from that, I think it’s a highly dangerous operation, tactically unsound, bound to involve us in casualties and…’He took a deep breath before finishing, K. and almost certain to fail.’

The Captain stubbed out the cigarette, got up from the chair and began pacing the cabin. ‘Well — you’ve certainly been frank, Number One.’ He stopped, regarded Hamilton with challenging eyes. ‘There are a couple of things you ought to know. First, your precious neutrality. Maji is, I suppose, nominally Portuguese territory. In all other respects it’s a tiny island, seven thousand miles from Portugal, about a mile long, six miles off the coast, inhabited by a handful of African fishermen. The Japanese are in there without authority. They’ve closed the creek, forbidden the Africans to go to their fishing grounds, and they’ve already killed the only poor devil who tried. They are terrorizing that little community, Number One, interfering with their freedom and their livelihood. Four days ago those Japanese massacred the survivors of a US Liberty ship. Yesterday the Japanese Captain summarily executed one of his crew. Beheaded him. The man is a psychopath. And that’s being polite.’

Barratt leant against the bulkhead, folded his arms, his eyes still on the First Lieutenant. ‘Restless will deal with that. I’m going to destroy that submarine and, hopefully, its Captain and some of his wretched crew. We shall be doing the Portuguese Government a favour, intervening on their behalf, freeing their helpless people. D’you for a moment imagine they would take a serious view of neutrality in such circumstances?’

Barratt directed a dark frown at the First Lieutenant. ‘Of course they wouldn’t.’ He began pacing again, stopped at a scuttle, looked out to sea. ‘That’s my answer to your neutrality question. Now your other problem, Number One. It’s evident that you disapprove of the operation. You’re perfectly entitled to do so. And to express your views to me privately. But I happen to be Captain of Restless. I make the decisions. They are my responsibility. No one else’s. If you wish I’ll give you a letter confirming that. Acknowledging that you have warned me against the dangers, diplomatic and otherwise, of this operation. That will clear your yardarm. And since nobody on board will know about it, you’ll be doubly protected.’

The First Lieutenant’s expression was strained as he got up from the settee. ‘That won’t be necessary, sir,’ he said stiffly. ‘I’m sorry you thought it might be. You are my commanding officer. I shall carry out your orders. Give you every possible support, notwithstanding my personal feelings. But I felt it was my duty to point out the dangers and possible consequences of what you have in mind. It was no more than that. It was certainly not self-interest. If you must know, it was because I was worried about how this could affect you — your naval career.’

In a voice suddenly subdued, Barratt said, ‘I haven’t got one, Number One. I’m a dugout. A wine merchant in RN uniform. But I do appreciate what you’ve just said.’ His manner softened, he held out a hand. ‘And I’m sorry if anything I’ve said hurt you.’

With some awkwardness the First Lieutenant took the Captain’s hand.

‘Under tension one says things one doesn’t mean.’ Barratt shrugged. ‘Now sit down and I’ll tell you what I want done before tonight’s briefing. We’ll hold it at 1900 in the wardroom, so have it cleared by then. I’ll give you a list of the people I want. When you approach those I’ve marked “Shore Party” emphasize that every member is to be a volunteer.

Stress that any man who feels he can’t volunteer will not suffer in any way. Nor will I think any less of him. And his messmates won’t know because we shan’t tell them. Got the hang of that?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Right. Carry on now. Pass the word for Corrigan to report to me right away.’

With a faint raising of eyebrows the First Lieutenant said, ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ He went to the door, turned and looked at Barratt in a strange way before lowering his head to pass through the doorway.

Yashimoto’s narrow, pouched eyes fixed the Petty Officer with a doubting stare. ‘You are certain it was a warship and not a coaster, Hosokawa?’

‘Yes, sir. The silhouette was sharp. Two guns forward, two aft. Bridge superstructure well forward, thick funnel immediately abaft it. Searchlight platform amidships. No mistaking. It was a destroyer.’

‘The Catalina was circling it, you say?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Yashimoto tapped with a pencil on the small desk beside the bunk, his mind preoccupied, his eyes on the Petty Officer who stood inside the doorway, cap under arm. Eventually he asked, ‘D’you think they could have sighted the catamaran?’ ‘Possibly, sir. We were under sail when we spotted them, //they saw us, I suppose they’d think it was a native vessel coming in to the creek from the fishing grounds.’

‘I hope you’re right, Hosokawa. But we know that the Catalinas have been flying over this area twice a day since we arrived. The coastline and its islands are in Mozambique, neutral territory. In spite of this the RAF overfly it regularly. Why?’ With a shrug and a grunt, he added. ‘But that’s my problem, not yours.’ He pressed with thumb and forefinger on his eyelids. ‘Should the destroyer attempt to enter, wait until she is in the narrows before firing the Very lights. There will be moonlight from ten o’clock tonight if the sky continues to clear. But in any case you’ll hear the ship, the sound of her machinery, once she’s in the narrows. She’ll have to pass close to your post at the inlet.’ He paused, looked at the portrait of the Emperor as if seeking inspiration. ‘So — abandon the catamaran patrols, keep your post fully manned until further orders, and be especially vigilant tonight.’

Hosokawa said, ‘We will do that, sir.’

Yashimoto relaxed momentarily, showed ivory-white teeth in a taut smile. ‘You have done well, Hosokawa,’ he said. Then, once more the disciplinarian, he added, ‘Return to your post immediately. Tell your men that the destroyer is to receive a hot welcome if it attempts to come in.’ The dark eyes had narrowed, the lower lip thrust forward. ‘Request the First Lieutenant to see me at once.’

With a deferential, ‘Aye, aye, sir,’ Hosokawa bowed himself out of the cabin.

Kagumi listened attentively as the Captain broke the news that a British destroyer had been sighted to the west of the headlands guarding the entrance to the creek. A Catalina had been circling it.

‘That must have been the aircraft heard by the conning-tower sentries ten minutes ago, sir. I did at once report to you.’

‘Yes, yes.’ Yashimoto’s tone was impatient. ‘I know you did. I assumed it was the usual late afternoon reconnaissance. Now we know it was more than that.’ He fingered his neatly bearded chin, trimmed each day with the same ritual exactitude that he used in clipping his close-cropped head. ‘We will at once prepare for an attack from seaward. Pay close attention to what I say.’

Kagumi said a dutiful, ‘Yes, sir.’ He would have liked to have added, ‘I always do.’

‘The Torpedo Officer is to muster his men in the fore-ends, one watch to be closed up until further orders, the other to remain on standby. Inform him that a British destroyer may attempt to force the narrows tonight.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Yashimoto’s fingers beat their customary tattoo on the desk top. ‘Next — enough camouflage is to be removed to give the forward gun a clear arc of fire covering the basin. An arc of fire for the AA gun on the after platform is also to be cleared. It should not be necessary…’ A knock on the door stopped him in mid-sentence. Frowning, he called ‘Come’.

Lieutenant Sato came in. ‘Sorry, sir. Top secret from Flag Officer Submarines, Penang. I’ve just decyphered it.’ Irritated by the interruption, Yashimoto snapped, ‘Read it.’

‘ETA enemy carrier at Mombasa now AM 28 repeat 28 November. Acknowledge.’

‘We can’t acknowledge. There’s a British destroyer outside the creek. But we can thank our Gods for this.’ Yashimoto’s sour manner switched to one of almost boyish exuberance. ‘It means an extra twenty-four hours. That’s a lot under present conditions. Thank you, Sato. You may carry on.’ When the Navigating Officer had gone Yashimoto, still looking pleased, said, ‘Where was I?’

‘The arcs of fire, sir?’ prompted Kagumi.

‘Yes. Now the matter of sentries. We’ve only one machine-gun post in the narrows. It’s halfway between the inlet and the bluff. That’s not enough. Issue machine-guns right away to the bluff sentries, also to those on the beach by the huts and to Hosokawa’s post at the inlet.’

‘Our establishment of machine-guns is only four, sir. This will mean issuing all of them.’

‘I am well aware of that. Do as I say.’

Kagumi, realizing that he had offended, uttered a submissive, ‘Yes, sir.’

‘If the destroyer tries to come in, if they are foolish enough to risk giving our torpedoes a target at point blank range…’ Yashimoto dismissed the idea with a contemptuous flourish of his hand. ‘… if they’re foolish enough to do that — then their upper deck, and the bridge especially, are to be raked with machine-gun fire as they steam down the narrows.’ The Captain was thoughtful. ‘Of course they may risk sending in a fast motorboat to reconnoitre — or even a whaler under sail.’ He peered at Kagumi with narrowed eyes. The whaler would be silent, difficult to see in the dark. Warn the sentries accordingly. We must take no chances. Any craft of any sort that enters is to be machine-gunned, and the sentries must not hesitate to use rocket flares to illuminate if there’s no moonlight. Stress the vital importance of giving us early warning with Very lights.’

The First Lieutenant managed a ‘Yes, sir. I’ll see to that,’ before Yashimoto continued: ‘There are to be no inspections of sentry posts tonight, Kagumi. No catamaran patrols until further orders. Guns’ crews here on board are to work in two watches, one closed up, one on standby. I want two officers and two petty officers on watch throughout the night. One pair in the conning-tower with the sentries, the other in the control-room. Hydrophones, search receiver and W/T to be continuously manned.’

‘The search receiver and the hydrophones have limited reception, sir.’ Kagumi was worried. ‘The high land, the configuration of the creek, and…’

‘Yes, yes. I am well aware of that, Kagumi. But limited performance is better than none.’ With eyes once more on the portrait of the Emperor, Yashimoto ran a hand over his head while his mind searched for detail. ‘There are to be no camouflage or fresh water parties tonight. I-357 is to remain at first degree readiness.’

‘Tomorrow’s flooding tests, sir?’ Kagumi watched anxiously as the Captain weighed the question, one which soon brought an emphatic shake of the head. ‘That will depend on how the situation develops’.

‘The sick and wounded, sir? Must they be taken over to the huts tonight?’

Yashimoto regarded the First Lieutenant quizzically, as if wondering what lay behind the question. ‘No. That too must be deferred for the time being.

A cautious smile relieved Kagumi’s strained expression. He had not been happy about the Captain’s intention to abandon the sick and wounded to the care of Maji’s fishermen. Not only did the Africans live in primitive conditions without medical facilities of any sort, but they had no reason to like the Japanese.

Yashimoto’s manner relaxed. ‘We must restrict our movement at night until this threat has passed. It seems likely that the British know our boat is in the creek. How they do, I can’t imagine. But it is necessary to assume that they do. Our camouflage makes it unlikely that they know where the boat is moored. For that reason it is possible a Catalina may come over tonight and drop flares — check for signs of unusual activity. So far they’ve not done that. But we must be prepared for it. That is why I want no working parties ashore, or catamaran patrols tonight. Now get busy, Kagumi. At the double.’

‘Aye, aye, sir.’ The First Lieutenant turned to go, changed his mind. ‘Do you really think the British destroyer will try to attack, sir? Breach Portuguese neutrality?’ The question was asked with a diffident air, as if Kagumi feared he might have offended. He was soon to know that he had.

In the brief period since Petty Officer Hosokawa had made his disturbing report, tension had been building up in Yashimoto. ‘How can you ask such a stupid question,’ he exploded, half rising from the settee. ‘After the orders I have just given. Get out and get on with them.’

With a last startled glance at the Captain the young man fled, astonished at the outbreak, for Commander Yashimoto, though strict, was rarely discourteous.