“They’re supposed to be working on it,” Orozco said. He peered through some of the sensors. “It looks like they’re getting organised.”
“Finally,” Broderick muttered. “None of them would pass Selection.”
“To be fair, they’re landing an entire army with three jetties and a shallow beach,” Orozco pointed out. “I’m amazed that they’re not in more trouble.”
“Perhaps they’ll click their ruby slippers without any help from us,” Broderick said. He nodded as his communicator hummed. “We’re to remain and observe, nothing else.”
“Bastards,” Orozco said. “Inform them that we’ll continue to watch.”
Government House
Canberra, Australia
20th May 1941
The map looked grim, grimmer than the situation really was, or at least Menzies hoped so. There had been questions in the House the day before, and now the Japanese had spent most of the night digging in. He scowled; four Japanese divisions and assorted hangers-on had arrived almost overnight, and the fleet was still on its way, heading for its rendezvous with the Japanese Fleet.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Colonel Philip Hawkinson assured him. The British liaison officer nodded politely to the Prime Minister. Menzies didn’t take offensive; he’d learnt fairly early on that Hawkinson was devoted to his equipment, the rest of the world made little impact on him.
“It’s going to look bad when I stand before Parliament and try to explain why the army is not immediately counterattacking,” Menzies snapped. He scowled. “Look at the bastards expanding their control!”
“They’re not expanding,” Hawkinson said. “They have three beachheads; one on each side of Darwin and a third at Cape York. None of them are going to go much further.”
He waved a hand at the map. Australian units were positioned in locations that would allow them to seal off the enemy lodgements. RAF units were preparing for yet another raid on the enemy positions; a Japanese attempt to set up an airfield was going to be ruined.
“Except Darwin,” Menzies said. “They’ll concentrate on taking the city.”
Hawkinson nodded. “That’s what they’ll do,” he said. He tapped the map. “They’re not going to have an easy time of it; they’re not set up to be a mechanised force. They’ll concentrate on taking the city, and we have four infantry brigades in the city itself… and by the time they realise they’ve been tricked; they’ll have been starved out. Then they can surrender or drop dead.”
Menzies smiled wryly. “I don’t suppose that they can live off the land?”
“Not enough to feed them all,” Hawkinson assured him. “Even if they try… well, guns and bullets don’t grow on trees.”
“A serious problem,” Menzies said dryly. “I don’t suppose that your technology can make things out of nothing.”
Hawkinson shook his head. “It’s supposed to be possible to transmute elements in a reactor,” he said, “but I don’t think that it was ever made practical.”
Three hours later, Menzies stumbled back into the headquarters and summoned Sir Thomas Albert Blamey at once. The Prime Minister was haggard and worn; sweat was running under his suit.
“They just put me through the wringer,” he said. “I managed to convince them from doing anything stupid, but they’re in a murderous mood.”
“How is civilian morale taking it?” Blamey asked. “Has there been panic and rioting?”
“A little in the east coast,” Menzies said. “The evacuation wasn’t hard to miss, after all. If it wasn’t for the nuclear-powered desalination plant, we would have been unable to water them all, let alone feed them. What’s the latest?”
“Japanese units are slowly poking their way towards Darwin,” Hawkinson said. He nodded towards the computer display. “The air force wants to launch strikes against their armour.”
“Approved,” Menzies said. “The fewer Japanese tanks there are, the better.”
“We might be better targeting their lorries,” Blamey said. “They don’t have anything like enough anyway.”
“We can do both,” Hawkinson said. “We can launch a series of strikes – its not like they can hit the Harriers. The only danger is aircraft from Papua New Guinea, and they won’t have much time to loiter around, even with drop tanks.”
“Order the RAF in,” Menzies said. He scowled; the RAAF had been destroyed on the ground in the opening days of the war, the handful of aircraft that were left had been lost in the battles around Papua New Guinea. The new RAAF was being reequipped with Hawk aircraft, in Britain, and wouldn’t be available for months yet.
“Yes, Prime Minister,” Hawkinson said. He tapped a control on the console. “The orders have been sent.”
Nr Darwin
Australia
20th May 1941
Private Fumihiko felt his sprits life as the tanks appeared near the end of the column, moving past the infantry, who cheered as the intimidating iron monsters clunked past, emitting smoke and flumes. He cheered with the others; it was a good way to avoid being hit by Sergeant Hitoshi. Still, he had decided he hated Australia; it was hot and uncomfortable and filled with flies.
He wished he could pause, if only for a few minutes, but the sergeants were keeping the men moving, using their clubs with gusto. The men in the tanks were lucky, he decided; at least they didn’t have to walk. The flasks of water that they’d been provided with were almost empty; several men had fallen ill after drinking water from streams. Sergeant Hitoshi had blamed it on poisoning, but Private Fumihiko privately doubted that the Australians could have poisoned every stream in the continent. Australia was big, he knew; it had looked so simple to conquer when he’d seen the map.
A scream split across the sky as two black shapes roared overhead. He looked up, expecting to see Japanese Zeros, but instead, they were different planes, nastier-looking ones.
“Stay in the ranks,” Sergeant Hitoshi bellowed. Fumihiko gasped in pain as the sergeant’s club slammed into his back. He focused on the back of the man in front of him and marched on… until the aircraft swooped low over the force and dropped some bombs. Fumihiko threw himself to the ground along with the other men as a series of explosions ran up the column and overran the tanks. One by one, they exploded; the aircraft vanished into the bright sky.
“Halt,” a colonel bellowed. Fumihiko was glad of the rest as the senior officers muttered to themselves, trying to see how many soldiers had been killed. He winced; the entire tank force had been destroyed – with ease. Shots rang out; three officers died. Under the command of the sergeants, the Japanese returned fire, tearing through the foliage and hitting… what? Nothing, as far as Fumihiko could tell.
This isn’t as easy as we thought, Fumihiko thought, as the column began to move again. He thought about pointing it out, and then decided not to bother; it would have only led to kicks and blows.
General Masaharu Homma cursed as some of the strategy became clear. The Australians – and their British masters – had intended to allow the force to land, choosing to avoid concentrating in a position where the Japanese could defeat them. Instead… instead, they were concentrating somewhere over the horizon, and waiting for the Japanese to run out of vehicles and supplies.
“We have to push faster,” he said. His colonels bowed; they didn’t understand, not really. There were limits, even for the finest Japanese fighting men, and Australia might just be just across the limits. They could not maintain such a pace for ever, even for the two days that would be required to reach Darwin. The port had the facilities they needed, but the port would be no good if they could not muster the strength to take the city.