‘The occupant of any catamaran or other small craft entering the creek from seaward,’ continued Yashimoto, ‘is not to be interfered with. But once in he will not be permitted to leave. Is that clear?’ Kagumi having said it was, the Captain went on. ‘Another inflatable is to be brought up from below and prepared for launching.’
Kagumi brushed a mosquito from his forehead and stifled a yawn. A tired man, he managed a dutiful, ‘Yes, sir.’
‘See to these matters at once. Then assemble the officers and petty officers in the control-room. I shall give them their orders.’ Yashimoto looked at his watch. ‘It is now 0135. We are an hour behind schedule.’
Mechanically, his mind busy with the problem of carrying out the Captain’s orders at the speed clearly expected of him, the First Lieutenant mumbled another ‘Yes, sir,’ and left the bridge.
The Captain stood at the base of the conning-tower ladder, one foot on its lower step. Tired though he was, and deeply worried, he managed to look relaxed and confident as he unfolded his plans for the night, occasionally consulting the single sheet of notes he held in one hand. ‘It is necessary’, he began, ‘to conceal I-357 from aerial observation while repairs are taking place. These may occupy four days.’ He paused, his dark eyes searching the faces in front of him. ‘The time is now close to two o’clock. The sun will rise at five-thirty. So we have less than four hours in which to complete the first stage of our task. It will require hard work, hard work without rest, for the next few hours.’ He paused again, this time the lower lip protruding and the eyes narrowed. ‘But let me assure you that it will be completed.’ He glanced at his notes before continuing: ‘The saws, axes, pangas and other tools for your task are being made ready for issue on the after-casing. Working parties are to draw their tools before proceeding ashore. I will now give details of those parties, their duties and the allocation of tools.’
Yashimoto went across to the chart-table, placed one sheet of notes on it and picked up another. For some moments he regarded the officers and petty officers in the control-room in silence, his expression inscrutable. Some were standing, others sitting, a few crouching on their heels; all looked tired and anxious, their eyes submissive, their clothing scanty because of the heat.
Time is short,’ the Captain said. ‘I will be brief and you will act swiftly. When a party has been detailed the officers and petty officers concerned will at once leave the control-room, select and muster their men, draw their implements and proceed ashore. The First Lieutenant will be in general charge. Any difficulties or disputes in selecting personnel and equipment, or in regard to other matters, must be referred to him.’
Yashimoto proceeded to detail the various parties, their duties, the names of the officers and petty officers responsible for each, and the implements to be drawn.
The cutting party of twenty men was the largest, and the first to go ashore by way of the gangway planks brought up from the torpedo compartment to bridge the gap between the submarine and the bank. Their first task, Yashimoto had stressed, was to cut leafy branches and brushwood. The felling of trees would come later. Lieutenant Toshida was in charge, with the Coxswain as his deputy. The appointment of these two men, both regarded by the Captain as outstanding, indicated the importance he attached to the work of the cutting party.
Before they left the control-room he emphasized that nothing was to be cut within several hundred yards of the submarine; where cutting did take place it was to be spread over a wide area. The slopes of the creek are thick with trees and bushes, and the shoreline with mangroves,’ he told Toshida. ‘For our needs less than one per cent of what is available will be sufficient. See to it that what we take leaves no scars to be seen from the air.’
Next to go were the sentries: a party of seven men under the senior watchkeeper, Lieutenant Matsuhito. His responsibility, explained the Captain, would include the men on duty in the inflatable at the entrance to the creek. The sentries were to take up positions on shore to prevent any approach to the submarine. They would, in addition, man the second inflatable for mobile duty as required.
He then named the eight men who were to carry the branches and brushwood from the cutting sites to the submarine: ‘They’re strong men,’ he said, his dark eyes on Lieutenant Sato who was to take charge of the group.
A camouflage party of ten men under the Engineer Officer was to see to the placing of the foliage once the carriers had delivered it on board.
Various other duties were allocated: an officer, a petty officer and a dozen men were to rest until dawn when they would be required for reconnaissance and relief sentry duties. They were, he said, to form a spare crew pool. Three mechanicians under the Chief Engineroom Artificer were to remain on board for maintenance duties; three seamen under the Torpedo Gunner’s Mate would stay on board for general duties. The Chief Telegraphist, the search receiver and hydrophone operators, were to maintain listening watches, wireless silence being observed.
Finally Yashimoto stressed the dangers of malaria and the importance of taking the quinine tablets which had been issued to the crew on a weekly basis throughout the patrol.
In a perverse way he had enjoyed the briefing, notwithstanding the serious situation, for it was one which fully engaged his passion for detail and his considerable energy and determination.
In spite of Sato’s reservations about the Captain and the enterprise in which they were now involved, he had to concede that Yashimoto was handling the matter in masterly fashion. Every contingency appeared to have been taken care of, every man in the crew given a task. The Captain was indeed a formidable man, decided the Navigating Officer: as capable as he was ruthless.
The last of the shore parties having left, Yashimoto gave his attention to the casualties. The first problem to be dealt with was the disposal of the body of the dead torpedoman. For this purpose he sent for Petty Officer Hosokawa, the Boatswain’s Mate. T want you to see to the burial of Leading Torpedoman Takiko. This must be done before daylight. Take two seamen with you in the inflatable. See that the body is securely weighted before you put it over the side. He is to be buried between the headlands. Be sure this is done with proper ceremony.’
Without any clear idea of what ‘proper ceremony’ might be under such unusual circumstances, PO Hosokawa bowed himself out of the Captain’s cabin.
Yashimoto’s next move was to visit the wounded in their bunks in the fore-ends. One man was critically injured, a fragment of steel having penetrated his chest and apparently lodged in a lung. He had been in great pain until the Coxswain administered a morphine injection. Now deeply sedated, he breathed noisily through the rime of blood about his lips and nostrils. Of the remaining casualties one had a head wound, the other a shattered forearm. The wounds had been treated by the Coxswain. Yashimoto spoke to the men, expressed sympathy, and in a show of encouragement told them he hoped to have them back in Penang before too long. Presumably wondering what period of time that might be, they muttered their thanks and Yashimoto returned to the wardroom to attend to more pressing matters.
Eight
During the remaining hours before dawn the crew of I-357 worked with furious energy on the wooded slopes of the creek. Toshida’s twenty men, stripped to the waist, toiled in the moonlight, cutting, chopping, clipping and bundling, developing unfamiliar skills as the hours passed, sweat pouring from their bodies, blisters forming on their hands, arms and shoulders aching. They were spurred on by Toshida, a shadowy figure moving among the trees, encouraging and cajoling; and by the Coxswain, a barrel-chested, loud-voiced man who used more forceful methods, cursing and joking, demonstrating the proper uses of axes and pangas, the sharpening of blades with files and hillside stones, and the binding of cuttings with the lianas which hung like ropes from the older trees.