‘Coxswain to the bridge! Stand by to transfer steering to upper position.’ Hamilton waited for Ernie Blood to come up through the hatchway and take his position at the helm. ‘Obey telegraphs◦– full ahead together. You can take her into the lagoon, Chief.’
Fifteen minutes later Rapier was snugly berthed under the camouflage netting, with her bow and stern tied up to the makeshift wooden jetty the submariners had constructed the previous month. However, nothing else remained of their carefully prepared hiding place. Both of the bamboo huts had been torn down. The aqueduct which Scott had designed to bring fresh water down from the hill had been destroyed and only the smoldering ashes remained of the wooden crates containing the victuals, stores, and spare parts which had been so laboriously transported from Hong Kong a few weeks earlier.
Hamilton looked at the heartbreaking remains of his labours unemotionally. He consoled his disappointment by admitting it had been a crazy idea from the outset. And yet, although everything had gone wrong, he had no regrets. Without torpedoes, his grandiose plans for a lone marauding sweep of the South China Sea in search of enemy shipping would have to be set aside. And now, deprived of its oil reserves, Rapier had barely enough fuel to retire to a safe base. Tightening the gun belt around his waist, he made his way down the rickety bamboo gangway and joined Mannon on the jetty.
‘O’Brien has found one of Suma’s motorboats hauled up on the beach, Number One, and that means there are still some survivors hiding ashore. I intend to remain here until every last man is dead.’
‘The Japs are trained in jungle fighting, sir,’ Mannon pointed out. He disliked his continual role of devil’s advocate but as Rapier’s executive officer he considered it his duty to underline the difficulties. Hamilton’s unreasoning thirst for vengeance made him blind to any defects in his plans. ‘Most of our lads hardly know how to aim a rifle.’
But Hamilton was not listening. ‘The motorboat suggests there’s an officer with them, and there’s just an outside chance it’s Aritsu.’ He turned to Mannon. ‘How many men can be made available for a search party?’ he asked sharply.
‘Every man in the ship’s company has volunteered for shore service, sir. But as we only had ten rifles aboard I’ve had to prune them down a bit. They’re waiting over by the trees.’
Hamilton strode over and gave the hurriedly constituted landing party a cursory inspection. Individually they looked tough enough and, despite Mannon’s pessimism, he knew that three of them had obtained marksman badges. It was a rough and ready little army, but Hamilton considered it adequate for the task he had in mind. The enemy was unlikely to be better armed and, judging by the size of the destroyer’s diminutive tender, he felt confident he had superiority in numbers. Even so, like most sailors, he felt slightly uneasy at the prospect of fighting ashore. His knowledge of military tactics was limited to a fortnight’s course at Excellent and the uninspiring contents of the Royal Naval Handbook of Field Training◦– most of which was devoted to the niceties of parade ground drill and ceremonial occasions, although he could vividly recall a bloodthirsty photograph demonstrating ‘withdrawal of bayonet after kill on the ground.’
‘Take five men and search the north hill, Number One. The remainder will go with me to cover the southern section of the island.’
‘What happens if we find them?’ Mannon asked. Hamilton stared at him impassively. ‘Don’t ask bloody silly questions, Number One. If you find them – kill them.’
‘But suppose they surrender, sir?’
Hamilton unholstered his revolver and broke it open to check that the cylinder was fully loaded. ‘The Japanese do not surrender, Mister Mannon,’ he said coldly. ‘To lay down their arms when they are still capable of fighting would be regarded as an act of dishonour.’
‘Not always, Lieutenant…’
Hamilton spun around as he recognized the voice. His right hand swung up and his finger tightened on the trigger as he saw Commander Aritsu, another officer and two ratings emerge from the trees and walk slowly down the beach towards him. Aritsu’s hands were stretched out in front of his body and he was bearing his sheathed sword.
‘Stop where you are, Commander!’ As Suma’s captain obeyed the order, Hamilton turned to Mannon. ‘It could be a trap. Search the bushes. If you find anybody hiding… shoot them!’
‘There is no one else, Lieutenant.’ Aritsu told him quietly. ‘I regret to inform you that we are the only survivors.’ He bowed stiffly, ‘Permit me to hand you my sword.’
Hamilton flicked the safety catch of the Webley as the Commander took a pace forward. ‘Stay where you are! Throw the sword on the ground.’
Aritsu hesitated for a moment and then obeyed. Hamilton lowered his revolver fractionally. Although he had Suma’s captain at his mercy, he intended to take no chances. His brain worked quickly as he considered what to do with his unexpected bonus. According to the book, he should take all four of them prisoner and hand them over to the proper authorities when Rapier returned to base. But as things stood at the moment, he could not even be certain that the submarine would ever succeed in reaching a friendly harbor, and with a shortage of stores and fresh water he saw no reason for carrying any extra passengers. He had little doubt what the fate of his men would be if they fell into the hands of the Japanese in similar circumstances.
‘I should take you back and have you charged with war crimes, Commander.’
‘You found the junk then?’
Hamilton parried the question. ‘I always thought that an officer of the Imperial Navy was a man of honor. Having seen what you did to the crew I realize I was wrong◦– the Japanese are nothing but a race of sadistic barbarians!’ Sub-Lieutenant Mihoro had not spoken since Aritsu had led the survivors out to surrender. His small black eyes watched the English submarine commander with the chilling intensity of a mongoose stalking a snake. It was apparent from the expression on his face that he had no respect for Suma’s captain and Hamilton’s accusation stirred him to life.
‘You are directing your insults at the wrong man, Lieutenant! Commander Aritsu had no part in the affair. I carried out the interrogation of the crew.’ His eyes blazed suddenly, as if defying Hamilton to do something lo him. ‘Is this correct, Commander?’
Aritsu shook his head. ‘Any action taken against prisoners is my responsibility. When I saw the oil drums I knew they were intended for your submarine. It was my duty to obtain information. Mihoro was merely the instrument who carried out my instructions.’
Realizing that he had just signed his own death warrant, he bowed politely and composed himself with dignity to await Hamilton’s inevitable order.
‘I appreciate your candour, Commander. Perhaps I was mistaken in saying you were a man without honor.’ Hamilton stared hard and deep into Aritsu’s eyes as he put the question. ‘Did you tell your Sub-Lieutenant how the interrogations were to be carried out?’
‘No… I left him to do whatever he thought fit.’