by Peter Watt
‘You forget,’ Matthew said, ‘that I am a civilian. Simply keeping one step ahead of the Germans is all we need to do until our cobbers come to save us.’
‘You were once a soldier,’ Alex countered. ‘And you have more combat experience than I have. I cannot see why you should not join me in fighting our war.’
‘Your war,’ Matthew snorted, realising how hopeless any confrontation with the Germans and their indigenous police would be. ‘Don’t include me and Joshua’s mob. He has women and children to protect. If the Germans suspect he is aiding you they will surely carry out reprisals against the Tolai. They have a long record of doing that in this part of the world.’
‘I will discuss the matter with Joshua,’ Alex persisted stubbornly. ‘And see what he thinks.’
Matthew did not respond but hoped the Tolai leader would show some sense and reject his cousin’s call to arms. He looked closely at Alex. His cousin wore the unsettling expression of a man who was out to prove his worth – or was it of a man who had lost the most important love in his life?
They made their way towards the village but were met by Joshua on the track. He had obviously been running. Sweat streamed down his face and body.
‘You must not go back to village,’ he panted. ‘German man has come with guns looking for you. They say they know we help you. You must run away.’
Matthew and Alex looked at each other, wondering how the Germans could have known where they were. Perhaps the Italian priest had betrayed them. Then they heard the soldiers crashing through the undergrowth and advancing towards them.
25
Colonel Patrick Duffy returned to his home in a dark mood. He had been officially informed that he was not to be posted to the newly raised expeditionary force being assembled for the invasion of German territory in the Pacific. The Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force, as it was known, would be separate from the recently formed Australian Imperial Force to which he was being transferred. He had wanted to be an active part of the armed forces which would attack Rabaul but John Hughes had told him that by accepting his transfer he would most probably be given command of an infantry battalion. At least he would be back on active service and not confined to a staff officer’s posting, he tried to console himself as he stepped from his limousine onto the gravel outside the front door of his house on the harbour.
His valet was outside the door waiting for him and when Patrick caught his eye he noticed an enigmatic expression on the old former soldier’s face.
‘What is it, Angus?’ he asked.
‘You have a visitor, Colonel,’ Angus replied with just the slightest hint of a smile. ‘And a very pretty lassie, if I say so myself. She is waiting in the drawing room for you. She would not give me her name but said that she had come because of young Alex. I have settled her down with a wee cup of tea while she awaits you.’
Intrigued, Patrick stepped inside and went directly to the drawing room where he saw a very beautiful young woman sitting in a chair, sipping from a fine porcelain cup. When she saw Patrick she placed her cup on the polished table and rose, delicately extending a gloved hand to him.
‘I am Miss Giselle Schumann,’ she said.
‘Ah, the young lady my son is so smitten by,’ Patrick replied warmly as Giselle’s hand lingered in his own. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you.’
Giselle slid her hand away and Patrick could see a hint of pain in her expression at the reference to Alex.
‘Colonel Duffy, you must realise that although I was actually born in this country I am considered German and thus an enemy alien in the eyes of your government. I was reluctant to come here as I know how my presence might compromise you, but I could not remain in my mother’s company any longer when I had a need to tell you something of great importance.’
‘You are with your mother?’ Patrick asked. ‘The last that I knew of you was that you were staying on your father’s plantation and not due to visit Sydney until September.’
‘I am here now because of matters that happened at my father’s plantation some weeks ago, and I fear Alex may have interpreted my actions as a betrayal of him, and Mr Duffy. I was forced by my parents to come to Sydney prematurely because of something that happened on the last night that I saw Alex.’
Patrick could see that the young woman was on the verge of tears and led her to a settee. She did not resist and he sat down beside her.
‘Something happened,’ he said gently. ‘Tell me.’
‘Alex and I planned to escape in our cutter to sail with Mr Duffy into Papuan waters and on to Port Moresby,’ she said, fighting back tears. ‘I organised a supply of rations for the sea voyage and was seen to be doing so by our foreman. He informed my father and I was confined to my room which prevented me from joining Alex on the boat. I heard the next morning that Alex and Mr Duffy were captured at the cutter. My father had sent a party to intercept them. He assigned a crew and I was accompanied by my mother to our cutter. We sailed for Port Moresby to take a ship to Sydney. I fear that Alex may have been led to think that I betrayed plans of his escape attempt and I cannot live with that knowledge. I had to tell you what had really happened. I would never betray the man I love more than my own life.’ Giselle’s hard-fought attempt to control her tears broke down and she began to sob, wringing her hands.
Gently, Patrick placed his arms around her and held her to his chest. With soothing words he told her that is was all right to cry. For a moment he felt that he was holding Fenella in his arms, just as he had done when she was but a little girl in need of love.
Eventually, the crying subsided. Patrick produced a clean handkerchief and Giselle attempted to regain her composure.
‘I fear that very soon my mother and I will be arrested and sent to a concentration camp, like those I heard the British had in South Africa. We were forced by the police to register as soon as we stepped off the boat in Sydney. It is only a matter of time before we are sent away and I wanted you to know that I did not betray Alex. I may not be in a position to tell him what happened that night, but I know you will.’
‘As soon as Alex returns I am sure that you will be able to tell him yourself,’ Patrick reassured, realising nonetheless that Giselle was right about the inevitable internment of enemy aliens. Already an act of parliament had been pushed through to ensure this happened. ‘Believe me,’ he continued. ‘If the worst comes to the worst I will fight tooth and nail to ensure that you and your mother are looked after. I have powerful friends in government.’
Giselle gazed into Patrick’s face seeking the conviction of his words and was satisfied to see that he was so much like his son. She saw an honesty in his eyes that immediately made her feel just a little safer.
‘Thank you, Colonel,’ she whispered. ‘But I do not want to compromise your position. I know that Alex was involved in a plot to spy on us. My father had the aeroplane destroyed on the orders of the government in Rabaul.’
‘Do you know what happened to my son?’ Patrick asked hopefully.
Giselle shook her head. ‘I only know that he and Mr Duffy were to be taken back to Rabaul under military guard. After that I do not know any more.’
Patrick sighed deeply. ‘If you would like to use one of our guest rooms you are welcome to stay,’ he said.
‘Thank you for your kindness, but I must return to my mother,’ Giselle said, rising from the settee. ‘She does not know that I have come to visit you and I know that she will be very distressed if I do not return to her before dark. We have rooms at a good hotel in Sydney.’
‘If there is anything I can do for you or your mother just telephone me,’ Patrick said, placing his card in her hand. ‘May I ask where you are staying?’
Giselle provided the address of the hotel which Patrick knew as one of the best in Sydney. It certainly meant that the Schumann family were well off. He escorted her to the door and ordered his chauffeur to drive her to her hotel. Giselle suddenly turned to Patrick, surprising him with a warm ki
ss on the cheek.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
Patrick felt the softness of her lips and as she stepped into the car. He turned away lest any on the driveway see the tears welling up in his own eyes. The young woman reminded him so much of his own lost daughter. How could it have come to this?
Matthew gripped his rifle, glancing at Alex to see his reaction to the sound of a large party of men beating their way through the heavy undergrowth towards them.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Alex said, also hoisting his rifle. ‘Too many of them from the sounds of it.’
‘This is best way,’ Joshua said, regaining his breath. ‘German man not know this way.’
The Australians did not question the Tolai warrior’s suggestion and followed him off the small, winding trail back to the village, plunging into the tangled bush. It was hard going but there was some kind of cleared trail through the scrub. Joshua was ahead of them and led them on to the base of a steep slope.
‘In here,’ he whispered, indicating a narrow earthen tunnel under the twisted roots of a large forest tree. The three men crawled into the tiny space and jammed up against each other, before Joshua pulled over a thatch of cut saplings. The sound of the soldiers searching for them was very close but in the cleverly constructed hide they had seemingly been absorbed into the very earth itself. Now they could clearly hear the voices of the men searching for them and even a conversation between a senior NCO and his patrol. It was obvious that the Germans were tired, irritable and looking forward to returning to the civilised comforts of Rabaul township.
They waited until the voices drifted away before crawling out from their concealed hide, brushing off the damp earth and standing to stretch their legs. Alex turned to Joshua and thanked him.
‘We make this place to hide,’ Joshua explained. ‘It work well. Me think that the soldier man go home soon. Then safe to go back to village.’
‘How did the soldiers know to come to your village?’ Alex asked Joshua.
‘Me think someone at the mission tell them about you staying with us but it is not one of my people,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘It must be a bad kanaka who know about Father sending message to us to find you.’
Alex was puzzled. He had suspected the Italian priest but that did not make sense. There must be a traitor in the mission who had betrayed them to the German patrol. If so, that person would have to have the priest’s trust. Treachery seemed to dog him and Matthew.
‘I have a feeling that the Germans are not going to keep up looking for us,’ Alex said to Matthew. ‘I feel that they will be more needed down in Rabaul to defend their radio station in the event of an assault by our forces.’
‘You are probably right,’ Matthew agreed. ‘I think we should just hold out in the hills until our cobbers arrive and forget organising any guerrilla movement.’
‘We can’t just sit around doing nothing when I am a commissioned officer,’ Alex replied. ‘It is my duty to fight.’
Matthew shook his head sadly. ‘If you wait until we are rescued I am sure there will be plenty of war left for you to fight somewhere other than this hellhole.’
Alex glanced at his cousin sheepishly. He knew that Matthew had seen war at first hand and his insistence to fight must have sounded like a drunk spoiling for a brawl. ‘Well, we could use our time to collect intelligence on the Germans,’ he countered. ‘I know of Englishmen living in Rabaul and they must feel motivated to assist the Empire.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ Matthew said, hoisting his rifle over his shoulder. ‘They are civilians and right now probably locked up. Besides, even if we did collect any information of worth how would we transmit it to our people in Australia?’
Alex knew that Matthew was speaking sense. It frustrated the young army officer bent on serving his country to stand idly aside while the war went on. Had he been back in Australia he might be now considered for a company command.
‘Maybe we could make contact with Father Umberto,’ he finally replied. ‘He may have ways to relay any intelligence we are able to collect to Australia.’
Matthew rolled his eyes to the sky. ‘Wallarie, protect me from men with good but misguided intentions.’
‘You really believe in that heathen rubbish?’ Alex asked.
‘What else should I believe in?’ Matthew answered sarcastically. ‘The fidelity of women?’
‘Touché, old chap,’ Alex muttered and began to walk back to the village.
After last light Alex asked Joshua to guide him and Matthew to the mission station. They moved cautiously through the undergrowth lest a German patrol remained in the area but did not see any sign of such. Around midnight they found the neatly laid out Tolai structures and Joshua led them to the priest’s house. He knocked on the door and announced himself. Very shortly the priest answered the door, holding a lantern aloft to illuminate his late-night visitors.
‘I thought that you might pay me a visit,’ he said, seeing Alex. ‘It might be best if you come inside.’
The three men entered the house and Father Umberto fetched a bottle of Scotch.
‘Who is your friend, Captain Macintosh?’ he asked as he poured three glasses. It was obvious that Joshua would not receive an alcoholic drink.
‘My cousin Matthew Duffy,’ Alex replied, accepting the glass.
‘The Germans did not tell me who they were searching for,’ Father Umberto said. ‘They just said that a couple of Englishmen were on the run from them. No doubt they meant you two. One of my people coming up from Rabaul told me that the Germans had two Australians in the gaol.’
‘Did you tell them that we were in Joshua’s village?’ Alex asked directly.
The priest frowned. ‘Why would I tell them when it was I who sent you help to hide out with Joshua and his people?’
‘I thought so,’ Alex replied. ‘But somebody here must have informed the Germans of our whereabouts.’
The priest stared past Alex at a crucifix on his wall. The night had a stillness promising a storm. Insects fluttered around the kerosene lantern now on the sturdy table in the centre of the room. ‘I am very sure I know where the information came from,’ he said sadly. ‘One of my Irish nuns, with no love for the Empire, has probably passed on the information to the Germans.’
‘But we are not English,’ Alex protested. ‘We are still loyal to the Crown but we are Australian.’
‘Your loyalty to the Crown is enough to place you in their camp,’ Father Umberto said. ‘The good sister lost a brother to English soldiers in Ireland. She is yet to understand the meaning of forgiveness.’
‘Who is she?’ Matthew asked.
‘It does not matter, Mr Duffy,’ the priest answered. ‘The sister is my responsibility and, at last report, my country has not entered the war on either side. But if I continue to assist you I will put in jeopardy that neutrality and be subject to arrest by the Germans.’
‘I understand, Father,’ Matthew replied. ‘We do not want to put you in any danger of arrest for aiding and abetting us. We were hoping to just hide out until Australia sends a force to seize the island.’
‘Do you think that will happen?’ the priest asked.
‘I am sure of it,’ Matthew said. ‘It is vital to Australia’s security that the Imperial German Navy be neutralised in the Pacific.’
‘My only suggestion is that you continue to avail yourselves of Joshua’s hospitality until that time comes,’ Father Umberto said. ‘I will let it slip to the sister in question that I have heard you both have trekked to the eastern side of the island to acquire a boat to sail back to Port Moresby. That might take a bit of pressure off you when she passes on the information – as I know she will do – to the Germans.’
‘That would be a help,’ Alex replied. ‘I am sure that we will be able to compensate Joshua and his people when we are rescued by our forces.’
‘One thing, Captain Duffy,’ the priest said. ‘I would drop any ideas of attempting to wage war again
st the Germans here. It could mean terrible reprisals against Joshua and the Tolai. I have seen in the past what the Germans are capable of when it comes to putting down native insurrection.’
‘How did you know?’ Alex asked in a surprised voice.
‘I just guessed that a man like you could not be comfortable just simply sitting out in the jungle doing nothing until your comrades came,’ Father Umberto replied with a slight smile. ‘I would expect your word on that matter before I provided any further help.’
‘As one of the Chosen Faith,’ Matthew answered in lieu of Alex, ‘I can give you our word on that matter.’
‘You are a practising Catholic?’ Father Umberto asked.
‘Well, I was baptised a Catholic and did a stint as an altar boy,’ Matthew replied with a wry grin. ‘That must count for something when it comes to giving your word to a priest.’
The priest nodded and swallowed the last of his Scotch. ‘I accept your word, Mr Duffy,’ he replied. ‘Now, I would suggest that you make your way back to Joshua’s village with him. The last I heard from the German patrol commander was that they were more urgently needed back in Rabaul. They, too, expect your comrades to arrive in force very soon. I will send messages to you of any developments we hear up here. Go in peace and with God.’
Matthew, Alex and Joshua left the house under cover of the night and crept out of the mission station compound to make their way back to the village. During a quick rest en route, Alex turned to Matthew.
‘My father was once a Roman Catholic,’ he said. ‘He promised to renounce Papist ways so that we could inherit the Macintosh family assets, but I sometimes wonder if my father still harbours Papist sympathies.’
Matthew smiled in the dark. ‘I guess by now you are starting to understand my so-called religious beliefs.’
‘I think that I have more in common with the beliefs of old Wallarie and his ancestor spirits than I do with Christianity. Maybe it is that we aviators tend to be a fairly superstitious lot.’