“Out?”
“'Of the Commonwealth. Their government made the announcement a few minutes ago, the Embassy there wired us the news immediately. There's a lot of diplomatic diarrhea but essentially, they're resigning their membership of the Commonwealth and pulling out of all the agreements that are part of that arrangement. The withdrawal is going to be absolute in six months.”
“We knew it was coming. They've expanded north and absorbed Rhodesia, Nyasaland, the old German and Portuguese colonies. And we virtually gave them Madagascar. They've become a pretty big force now, regionally at least, and old memories die hard. They still remember the turn of the century and the wars against the British. Anyway, I couldn't see the British tolerating the system they're bringing in over there very long. I think the Boers decided they would resign before they were kicked out.”
“Seems a bit, I don't know, heartless somehow. Leaving now,”
“'Eric, we're on our way out as well. Two years, perhaps three at the outside. Australia, I don't know, they might stay in, but we've got to leave. You know how strong nationalist feeling is here. They don't want to be under a British thumb any longer and the Nationalists see being a part of the Commonwealth as being under the British thumb. I can’t blame them for that.
“At the moment, we can trade off being a member of the Commonwealth for a long, slow phased transfer of government. We can train our successors; we can establish the system that runs this country the way it should be run. But to do that we have to give the appearance of casting off the British link and that means we too must leave the Commonwealth.
“Anyway, the Commonwealth is going to be pretty irrelevant to us now. Perhaps, if Halifax hadn't thrown in the towel and left England to be occupied, it might have been different. Who knows? But when the Germans occupied Britain, they kicked the center out of the Commonwealth; broke it apart and nothing can put it back together again. We have to look to ourselves now, and our future lies here, in the East, This news from Thailand just confirms that. If the Japanese get away with this they'll turn Thailand into one of their protectorates, an occupied colony, just like they tried back in '41.”
Sir Eric nodded. “The trouble is that the Japanese got China and Hong Kong, but Madam Ambassador filched the crown jewels while they weren't looking. Jardine and Matheson, Swires, Hutchinson-Whampoa, Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, you name it. They're al! in Bangkok now. Economic power in the Far East is in the hands of the great Chinese trading companies, always has been. The smart Europeans knew that and rode the Dragon's back.
“Now the Dragon has a new lair and its making itself very comfortable, thank you. All the network of business contacts, family, personal, professional, all of them, have moved to Bangkok. They've nowhere else to go. If the Japanese get their hands on all that, within twenty years, they'll be the dominant economic power in Asia. That's why they're staging this whole thing.”
“Exactly. The Great Houses went to Bangkok because it offered stability and the resources of a reasonably large country. If that stability goes, they'll try to run again, though heaven knows where to. But Thailand will be left in the lurch and that means our defense in depth goes I must speak with The Ambassador as soon as our Embassy in Bangkok can arrange a conference. Whether we like it or not, our fate's linked to Thailand - and to Australia come to that. The question is, what do we do about it?”
Chapter Two Options
Headquarters Section, Japanese 2nd Battalion, 143rd Division
They'd finally taken the road that joined the Guardhouse to the residential area. That had split the defense here into two parts, the two fortified buildings over on his left and the residential hell-hole on his right. He'd finally managed to storm the line of foxholes along the road and he7d been expecting to fight it out with the bayonet as their occupants defended them to the last. But, when he and his men had finally taken them, they were empty except for the dead and there were few of those. The occupants had fallen back before he'd got there and were now blazing away with their accursed machine guns from a new line. It would all have to be done again. But first, the flank of the Guardhouse was exposed and that could be taken out.
Major Kisoyoshi Utsunomiya had brought up the tools he needed to do the job. His battalion had been heavily reinforced for the job, its gun company had six 75mm infantry support guns instead of the usual two and all his men had been given the new Type 8 semiautomatic carbines. In fact, his command had the 143rd division's entire allocation of those marvelous rifles. It was lucky they did for the hail of fire they had put out was the only thing keeping his casualties within tolerable limits. As it was, he was way behind schedule. This base was supposed to have fallen easily, to have been seized by a coup-de-main before the invasion proper even started. But it hadn't, they'd been waiting for him and now the entire 143rd Division was backed up on the road behind him. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, the troops would have been filtering through countryside to by-pass the base but they'd need the road cleared soon. The 75s would do it.
Guardhouse, Laum Mwuak Airfield, Thai/Japanese Indochina Border
The building shook as the first shell plowed into the wall facing the residential area. Sergeant Nikorn Phwuangphairoch had guessed it would be coming; the studies of how the Japanese fought in China had been compulsory reading for a long time. They relied heavily on artillery brought forward and fired over open sights at strong points.
Sergeant Nikorn wasn't quite certain whether the guardhouse counted as a strongpoint but doubtless the Japanese thought of it as being one. It wasn't really designed that way but he'd strengthened the walls with sandbags and mounted machine guns in the windows. Now, the air inside was thick with dust, with acrid ammonia-tinged smoke from the cordite and the coppery smell of blood. He'd started holding the building with eight men, the other twelve had been in the foxholes along the road. They'd been driven back but were still covering his flanks with fire.
“Who's hurt?” There was a brief pause while the men inside peered through the gloom and the rancid smoke to make a check. They didn't get to answer because another shell and another crumped into the walls, filling the air still further. Men pulled their neck-clothes over their noses to try and keep out the dust, Nikom grabbed the phone and cranked the handle. “Operations, Guardhouse. We're under artillery fire here. We need help.”
“On its way. Keep your heads down.” The voice at the other end was completely emotionless.
Ostrich Djiap-One, over Laum Mwuak Airfield, Thai/Japanese Indochina Border
“They want us to hit the north end of the field. Up here by the Guardhouse and the personnel quarters. The defense company is holding both but the road between them has fallen.” Flight Sergeant Kusol Chale had swung his seat around and was getting the ground situation on the radio, leaving his 20mm gun unmanned. On paper at least, the Ostrich had accommodation for a third crew member if needed, on a jump seat between the pilot and gunner. The Thai crews believed the Australians had bred a special species of airmen to occupy that seat, one 45 centimeters tall with their head between their legs and arms two meters long. None of the aircraft in the flight had ever flown with more than two crewmen on board.
Flight Lieutenant Phol Thongpricha nodded and looked down. The Ostrich had one vital characteristic for a ground attack aircraft, the pilot sat well forward and his vision downwards was excellent. He could see the square of the guardhouse, even the puffs of smoke around it that marked the start of an artillery barrage. The Japanese thought that a few guns firing over open sights constituted infantry support. They were about to learn differently. He banked left, rolling the Ostrich over into a long dive. Behind him Djiap-Two followed the maneuver, then Djiap-Three and the rest of the flight. One plane after another, their silver skins gleaming in the sun as they formed a long line heading downwards.