Anyone would think that they wanted the Japanese to win, he thought bitterly, examining the map again. Historically, the Japanese had landed in Siam – Thailand – and advanced down; now the Japanese had been moving troops and supplies in for weeks. The SAS detachment, observing the Japanese from long distance, noted that the Japanese were preparing what seemed an overland offensive, discarding the thought of an amphibious invasion.
Bastards, he thought, glowering down at the pictures. His plan, Operation Matador II, had been intended to hit the Japanese as they landed, but Sir Josiah Cosby, the Contemporary British Ambassador in Siam, had warned that the Japanese were nearly completely in control of Siam. Thousands of troops was a potent argument for toeing the Japanese line, and Flynn knew that attacking the Japanese would be futile.
I need more forces, he thought, and studied the map. The decision to concentrate on India and Singapore was a good one – he’d assisted the PJHQ to design the plan – but it depended on holding Singapore. What Contemporary naval forces there were, Royal Navy and Royal Indian Navy, would be unable to save Singapore if the fortress was breached. Unfortunately, he was grimly certain that it would get nasty…
“I trust that you supermen from the future are working on how to save us,” a snide upper-class voice remarked. Flynn hid his scowl, smiling as cheerfully as possible at the speaker, Sir Shenton Whitelegge Thomas, Governor of Singapore.
“It didn’t work the first time around,” Flynn said, scowling. Thomas had been one of the leaders of the campaign against equal rights, which had nearly sparked off a race riot. “Look; who was the dumbass who called this place a fortress?”
“Whitehall,” Thomas said, putting a wealth of disdain into the word. “Can here be defended?”
Flynn scowled. “Look,” he said. “Across the border, the Japanese are building up their forces,” he said. “They’ve clearly thought through some of the consequences of the future knowledge and moved to counter them; we can’t launch our own invasion now.”
“Why not?” Thomas said. “The little yellow men won’t pose a threat…”
“The little yellow men, as you put it, are a superbly trained and determined army,” Flynn snapped. “Their equipment is rubbish, and if I had a handful of proper tanks, I could really clean up. But I don’t; so I have to improvise.”
He waved a hand at the map. “Ideally, I would meet the Japanese in one of the defence lines we’re building, and what a fuss your people made about conscripting everyone without a proper job to build them, but I don’t have the manpower to guarantee holding them.” He scowled. “And as I have only twelve Harriers here, I cannot guarantee that the Japanese won’t manage to land more troops behind our lines.”
“There are the aircraft here,” Thomas objected. “The torpedo-bombers…”
“Scrap,” Flynn snapped, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. “If the Japanese commit a carrier to support the invasion force, the Zeros will make short work of them. In the meantime, the Japanese will secure Malaya and then push down to us, unless the fleet arrives in time.”
“Well, I have confidence in your ability to hold them,” Thomas said. “However, I must protest at the detention of dozens of Japanese citizens, an action that will only provoke Japan into…”
“Those citizens are spies,” Flynn snapped. One of them, a hairdresser, would have starred prominently in the first invasion of Singapore, a universe away. “We don’t let spies run around behind our backs.”
“But a number of prominent citizens are unhappy,” Thomas said. “They say that you and your men are undermining the social structure of Singapore, and convincing chinamen that they are our equals, and worse. You’ve given away India to a bunch of rag-tag fakers and your coolie troops are…”
He broke off; Flynn was holding a knife to his throat. “If I was you, I wouldn’t take it any further,” Flynn said, as casually as he could. “Those… coolies are British citizens, many of whom have lived in Britain longer than you have, Governor. My orders are to defend this place, even though it doesn’t deserve a single life from one of my people. I will carry out my orders or die trying.
“Understand; we don’t care about the Empire,” he snapped. “By the time I was born, in 1975, the Empire was gone! There are many of the former subjects in Britain now, equal citizens. You have the choice between allowing them equality now, here, or having them take it by force later! Do you imagine that the Japanese aren’t stupid enough to use the racial divisions against Singapore?”
“The Japanese won’t incite a colonial revolt,” Thomas said, his mind dimly realising that it was required to comment. “It would blow up in their faces as well…”
“The Japanese have begun cleansing their territories of non-Japanese,” Flynn snapped. “They are more then willing to scream ‘Asia for the Asians’ and use it; you, sir, offer them nothing. My force, which does include some of their descendents, can only operate as an equal to your people.”
Thomas sat down heavily. Flynn felt a flicker of sympathy; his attaché had reported that Thomas was coming under heavy pressure to get rid of the ‘coolie and nigger troops’ before the pressure cooker exploded. The Chinese, Malaysians and Indians had heard about the changes in India – and they wanted in. They wanted equality – and some of them were preparing to fight to get it. A bizarre mixture of Communists, nationalists and Japanese-supporters were preparing trouble, and he knew that his force would be unable to stop them.
“General,” Thomas said, “if the Japanese don’t come quickly, I fear that we will destroy ourselves before they come.”
“That would be bad,” Flynn said. “Might I suggest widening the franchise?”
“You know I can’t,” Thomas said. Flynn shrugged. “They would never allow it.”
Flynn shook his head, dismissing Thomas, and turned back to the map. Siam’s position was nasty; their border with Malaya was long and seriously undefended. Absently, he wished for the Australian divisions, but they had been sent to Australia itself. The building of a modern airport was going slower than he’d feared; some of the builders had gone on strike and the established interests had had fits.
“Give me a week, two weeks, and I’ll hold this place,” he addressed the map. “Before then… well, I can offer nothing.”
Nearly a hundred miles due north, General Tomoyuki Yamashita glared down at the map and scowled. There were only two large roads leading to Singapore, one on each side of the peninsula, and he was certain that both of them would be defended. It was what he would have done. His sudden summoning from China, to take command of nearly sixty thousand Japanese troops – and thousand more Chinese coolies – had been a surprised to him, but the news of the future had been worse.
“We have to force the British out of Malaya,” the Army Minister had ordered, and Yamashita shuddered when he thought of the cost. No wonder a semi-disgraced officer had been offered – given – the command, and one who would win a similar battle in an…
Yamashita shook his head. It hurt whenever he thought of it. There was a fascinating amount of data in the files the Germans had sent, and according to the War Cabinet all that could be checked had proven accurate. Still, he knew that whoever was commanding the British forces, one of the 2015 commanders according to one of the dozens of Japanese spies within the city, would know the history better than he would – and would take steps against a repeat.