"Thank you for seeing me, Admiral Dahm. As you can see, our condition is desperate. We've lost our pumping capacity and we're trying to prevent further flooding using manual bucket chains." Soriva rubbed his eyes. "We've taken two torpedoes, one forward and one amidships. It happened when we broke out of Yokohama with our sister ship Settsu. A sub got us both on the way out. Settsu was going down, we got the women and children off her then aircraft arrived. We couldn't stay Admiral." There was a haunted look in his eyes and the pain in Soriva's voice was obvious. "We had to get clear. The last thing we saw was Settsu sinking and the aircraft strafing the survivors. Then they came after us. We took three more hits from missiles, all amidships. If it hadn't been for a rainstorm that blocked out their radar, they'd have finished us too."
Soriva's expression wandered for a few seconds. "Admiral Dahm. We are on our way to Kaohsiung in Formosa. We will be joining forces there that have refused to acknowledge the Showa Restoration Council. But we have our families on board and the women and children from Settsu. Admiral, I beg you, please take our women and children, give them sanctuary."
Dahm nodded. A true sailorman could do no less when another was in distress. "We'll do that, Admiral. Have your people get them ready for transfer and we'll bring them over by helicopter. I low many do we speak of?"
Admiral Soriva was looking at his shattered ship, the tormented look in his eyes again. Dahm repeated the question to his Number One and got an answer via the medical teams. About a hundred and seventy, many wounded. After a while, they started to arrive as the helicopters landed on the deck. Many had crudely bandaged wounds, all were shocked and exhausted. Admiral Soriva was watching them arrive on the closed-circuit television that showed the bridge crew what was happening on the flight deck aft. Suddenly his gray and prematurely elderly face rallied as a woman and two children got off the helicopter.
"Your family, Admiral?" Soriva nodded. "Look, my cuddy is just aft of the bridge. If you want to have some time alone with them, you can stay there." Dahm ran a quick mental check, everything that was classified or confidential was locked away. "Frankly Admiral, you need some time to rest. We'll get some portable pumps over to your ship."
Behind him, his Sparker cleared his throat. "Return message from D-Ops Sir. Signed by Admiral Ladone himself."
Dahm took it "Render all possible assistance. If Kawachi sinks, place survivors under your protection and transport to Manila. If Kawachi remains under way, offer medical and damage control support." Dahm sighed with relief; Admiral Ladone had guessed what would be happening here and given orders to cover Dahm's rear. Dahm would have to send a much longer report soon. If Taiwan was breaking away from Chipan, the Triple Alliance authorities needed to know straight away. That bit about the new Chipanese air-to-ship missiles not working in the rain was worth passing on as well.
Longland Jungle Training School, Atherton, Queensland, Australia
"Very good men. Before we start our training cycle I have some good news for you. The battalion is giving up Old Smelly at long last and we will now receive the Self Loading Rifle Number One Mark One Star. You will hand in your old rifles and receive your new weapon. Battalion Sergeant Major Shane, if you would lead please."
BSM Shane walked up to the armorers table and put a Bren gun down.
"What happened to your Rifle Number Five, Sergeant Major?"
"Lost in Combat sir"
"Well, where did you get this from?"
"Battlefield salvage, sir."
"Very good, Sergeant Major." Shane moved to the next table where an SLR No.l Mk.l* was signed out to him. Meanwhile the next soldier had approached the table and put down a Chipanese Arisaka Type 12. Before the ordnance officer could speak the owner anticipated the question "Lost in Combat sir. Battlefield salvage sir. All ammunition is MF headcode sir we chucked the MFC stuff. That goes for all the boys"
"Very good, Sergeant. Next."
Another Arisaka Type 12 "Lost in Combat sir. Battlefield
salvage sir."
A 7.62mm Capsten sub-machine gun. That, at least, was an authorized-issue weapon. "Lost in Combat sir, battlefield salvage sir."
An AK-47. "Lost in Combat sir, battlefield salvage sir."
Another Arisaka Type 12 "Lost in Combat sir, battlefield salvage sir."
Another Capsten submachine gun. "Rifle No.5 lost in Combat sir, battlefield salvage sir."
Another AK-47. "Lost in Combat sir, battlefield salvage sir."
The piles of assorted weapons grew steadily. The ordnance personnel started segregating the "battlefield salvage" into piles. The old SMLEs were very conspicuous by their absence. The men who'd received their new weapons were standing around inspecting the rifles. They'd been anxiously awaited, the rumors were that the new rifle was something quite special. The authorized Bren gunners were getting a version of their old weapon, chambered for the new 7 mm round. There were a lot of good things said about that as well.
Suddenly the OIC heard an intake of breath from one of the reception tables. On it was a new weapon, something that looked like an AK-47 on steroids, with a telescopic sight, a long barrel and a bipod. "What the devil is that?"
There was a touch of awe in the Ordnance Sergeant's voice. "It’s a SVK Sir, the Designated Marksman version of the AK-47. Chambered for the old Russian 7.62 rimmed. It’s supposed to give infantry units a bit more reach than the AK-47. The Teas only started taking delivery of these a couple of months ago. Give one of them per squad. How did you get this soldier?"
"Battlefield salvage sir." The Ordnance Sergeant looked as if he wanted to say something then decided otherwise. Then turned to the officer in charge. "Sir, I suggest we keep this one, we haven't seen one of these yet and the tech guys here would like to play with it."
Slightly numbed by the variety of weapons being handed in, the OIC nodded. The SVK was carefully carried away and stowed somewhere discreet. Relationships between the Australian infantry, more commonly known as 'Diggers' and their Thai equivalents, equally commonly known as 'Teas' were close, but sometimes interests did diverge. And they stole equipment from each other with worrying enthusiasm Privately the OIC would have laid heavy odds that a Tea designated marksman had done much KP for losing that rifle. Unless he'd managed to steal an Australian Bren as a replacement.
By the time the exchange had been completed, there were indeed a few SMLEs handed in, from new recruits who had only just joined the battalion. They'd be sold on the export market, going to dealers who would feed America's apparently inexhaustible appetite for firearms. The AK-47s would be returned to the Teas with a few good-natured gibes about their soldiers needing to look after their kit better. The Arisakas would be going to Thailand as well, to be handed over to the Vietnamese People's Liberation Army. The rest would be going to the training school arsenal, there was always a need for a variety of odd weapons when jobs that couldn't be described had to be done.
The ammunition was being sorted as well. The .303 would go back to store, the 7.62 x 39 would go back to Thailand. The 6.5 Arisaka, that was different. The ammunition would have to be carefully checked out. The instructions issued had been quite clear, 6.5 mm Arisaka head-coded MFC was a heavy load intended for use in machine guns and should never, ever be used in the Type 12 Arisaka rifle. The real reason why the MFC coded rounds had to be dumped was quite different and much, much nastier. The propellant had been replaced and anybody who used it would find their rifle blowing up in their face. Only, the people who'd thought of that trick hadn't allowed for the possibility that Australian troops would be picking the stuff up and using it.