Beneath a Rising Sun

by Peter Watt

  David heard the distinctive chatter of a Bren gun ahead and guessed that his rear platoon had moved back to lend support. Using fire and movement tactics his platoon broke up the encircling manoeuvre and the remaining Japanese were killed or fled into the forest. David had trained his company well, but it did not compensate for the death of the brave soldier beside him, who had once chopped off Tom Duffy’s hand.

  Only the courage of his company signaller had saved David from death this time. Courage and a lot of luck, too much luck for a man who had already had his fair share. For a fleeting moment David Macintosh thought about the spirit of Wallarie watching over him.

  Thirty-one

  From the edge of the rainforest Jessica and Roland crouched, and surveyed the mission station in the valley. Jessica’s clothing, like Roland’s, was torn and dirty from their trek from the Lutheran mission station they had left miles behind them and now they were looking down on Jessica’s former home as a nun.

  ‘The Nips have guards everywhere,’ Roland said. ‘We will probably get a bit of a warm welcome.’

  ‘It’s now or never,’ Jessica said and stood up. Roland followed her down a path, and they were almost at the edge of the barbed wire surrounding the main cluster of buildings, when they heard the excited chatter of guards rushing towards them brandishing rifles.

  Both Jessica and Roland froze as the Japanese soldiers surrounded them, pointing bayonet-tipped rifles in their direction.

  ‘Pastor Heinz and Sister Francis,’ Roland said, holding up identification papers.

  One of the soldiers they recognised as having the rank of a senior non-commissioned officer stepped forward and snatched the papers from Roland’s hand. It was obvious that the Japanese NCO could not understand the English written papers, but he did understand the forged, Japanese papers they had given to them at their RV from the sympathetic Lutheran pastor who had been their initial contact upon arrival on the island.

  He gestured towards the main buildings of the mission station and yelled, ‘Speedo!’

  Jessica and Roland tentatively dropped their raised hands and walked towards the office Jessica knew was that of the mother superior, Sister Michael. The native people they passed stared curiously at the newcomers, but quickly went back to work tending vegetable gardens when threatened by the escorting guards.

  The small party stopped at the steps of the main building and an officer appeared. Jessica thankfully did not recognise him and the senior NCO who had taken their papers handed them to the officer who quickly perused them. One of the forged papers was a travel pass explaining that Roland and Jessica were to travel to the mission station where Jessica was once a nun.

  ‘You not have permission to come here,’ he snapped. ‘Why you come here?’

  ‘I have come to minister to the needs of my people here,’ Roland answered. ‘I heard a rumour that there are members of the Lutheran church in your care and if you look carefully you will see that we have written permission to be here.’

  The officer turned to Jessica. ‘Why you come here?’ he asked. Jessica took a deep breath, knowing that her answer could be a matter of life or death.

  ‘This used to be my mission station before the war,’ Jessica said. ‘I was cut off when your soldiers came to New Britain, and now I have taken the opportunity to travel with Pastor Heinz to return.’

  The Japanese officer stared at Jessica and she could feel absolute fear under his steady gaze. He was a short, solid man in his thirties with cold, dead eyes. ‘You know Sister Michael?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Jessica replied. ‘She is my mother superior.’ Jessica knew it was a gamble and her life now depended on the other superior validating Jessica’s membership of the community, and also realising that Jessica was not what she pretended to be.

  The officer said something in Japanese and Jessica saw a soldier hurry away.

  She and Roland stood under the tropical sun, surrounded by the guards and the sweat under her long white dress was not all from the heat. After a few minutes Jessica saw that the soldier had returned in company with Sister Michael.

  It was now or never that Jessica would live or die.

  ‘You know this woman?’ the Japanese officer asked Sister Michael who bowed and turned to face Jessica. Both women stared for only a second or two, and it was Sister Michael who spoke first with an expression of absolute shock.

  ‘Sister Camillus!’ she gasped. ‘It has been a long time.’

  ‘It say here that woman is Sister Camillus,’ the officer said with a note of suspicion.

  Jessica gave the slightest of nods, and the officer turned his attention back to Roland.

  ‘It say in papers you good member of Nazi party,’ he said and Roland immediately raised his hand in the Nazi salute. ‘Heil Hitler, heil the Emperor.’ His act caught the Japanese officer by surprise.

  The officer reacted with the cry, ‘Banzai!’ three times, which was chorused by all the Japanese soldiers surrounding them.

  Jessica hoped that the smile on her face would not be noticed. Roland was doing a grand job of convincing the Japanese he was a loyal ally of the Imperial Japanese army. When the voices of the Japanese guards died down the officer turned to Roland and Jessica, handing back their papers.

  ‘You go,’ he said in a loud voice and issued orders for his men to disperse back to their duties. He himself disappeared back into the office that once belonged to Sister Michael, leaving the three standing outside under the sun.

  ‘I thought that you might have been killed when you left us last year,’ Sister Michael said, and Jessica thought that she could see tears in the stern old nun’s eyes. ‘I also sense that you are no longer a nun anymore.’

  ‘It is a long story, Sister,’ Jessica said. ‘But we will have time to talk.’

  The older nun stepped forward and placed her hands on Jessica’s cheeks.

  ‘God bless you, Jessica,’ she said. ‘I think I know why you have returned to us, and if I am right, your life will be in great danger. We need to go somewhere out of hearing of our Jap captors and talk.’

  Sister Michael led Jessica away from the guards to a place on the hill leading up to Jessica’s old school hut. ‘A loyal native boy from our coastwatcher informed me that there would be a mission of some sort requiring my assistance. I never dreamed that it would involve you returning to us,’ she said.

  ‘I cannot tell you what our mission is,’ Jessica said. ‘But we must make contact with the coastwatcher – if he is still alive.’

  ‘He is,’ Sister Michael said. ‘He was put out of action by a bad bout of malaria but has since recovered.’

  ‘I guess that you have contact with him,’ Jessie said.

  ‘I have,’ Sister Michael replied. ‘He is located very near us and his boys keep an eye on our situation.’

  ‘That is good news,’ Jessie said. ‘Pastor Heinz and myself have a great need to get in contact with him as soon as possible.’

  ‘I can arrange that,’ Sister Michael said. ‘In the meantime it would be nice if you met the rest of the girls with us. We have had a group of army nurses interned here with us since you left. I will brief the sisters to remain quiet about the circumstances of you leaving us.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother Superior,’ Jessica said and realised at that moment how much she had missed this intelligent and compassionate woman who had such a strong influence on her past life.

  When Sister Michael returned with Jessica to the missionary station – now acting as an internment facility – Jessica greeted her former sisters in Christ and they smiled their welcome. All did except one. Sister Clement bridled at the warm reception Sister Camillus received after betraying her vows. Sister Clement had never liked Sister Camillus. She considered her arrogant and heretical in her views of Christianity. She stood in the doorway of her medical dispensary glowering at the nun walking with the mo
ther superior as she introduced Jessica to the Aussie nurses. Something should be done about Sister Camillus’s treachery to the Church and her desertion of the missionary station the previous year. She would get a message to the English-speaking Japanese intelligence officer in the next village who also knew Sister Camillus.

  *

  The days passed and soon became a week. Jessica returned to her duties teaching the local children in her little shelter on the hill and Roland made himself known to the non-Catholic nurses as a spiritual adviser if they felt the need. Jessica and Roland avoided contact to allay any suspicions from the Japanese guards who generally appeared to be satisfied with their duties away from the battlefronts where so many of their comrades were being killed by the advancing Allied forces. Not all Japanese soldiers shared the ideals of Bushido.

  Jessica was chalking up some arithmetic on her well-used blackboard to the small class of native children when she noticed Sister Michael climbing the gentle grassy, slope to her outdoor classroom. Jessica told her students to write down the answer to the numbers she had left on the board and walked down a way to meet the mother superior.

  ‘I have just had a message from our coastwatcher,’ Sister Michael said, after catching her breath. ‘The message was that the package is with him awaiting an RV with a sub. The message also goes on to saying that your mission here is over and that you are invited to link up with him on the coast for transfer back to Australia.’

  Stunned, Jessica stared at the old nun. ‘We were not really needed,’ she said with a sigh and for a moment was confused as to what she should do next.

  ‘I know that you will have to leave us again, Jessie,’ Sister Michael said. ‘I hope that you are still acquainted with your rosary beads.’

  Jessica smiled. ‘I am still a Catholic, Sister Michael. All I have done is recognise that I was never really suited to be a bride of Christ.’

  ‘That is all I needed to know,’ Sister Michael said, taking Jessica’s hand in her own. ‘I know God will understand. But now you and Pastor Heinz must make plans to go to the coastwatcher, and return to Australia.’

  Jessica glanced back at her class waiting patiently for her return. ‘Will our absence put any of you in danger?’ she asked.

  ‘That is not in your hands – nor the Japanese,’ Sister Michael shrugged. ‘Our fate is in God’s hands.’

  Jessica was not reassured by the mother superior’s confidence in the Almighty’s protection.

  ‘It is possible that one of my nuns might run off with the Lutheran pastor so they could be together,’ she said with just the faintest of smiles. ‘After all, we are still women under our skirts with, God forbid, carnal desires.’ Jessica’s sudden expression of shock turned the mother superior’s slight smile into a broad grin. ‘It will be just a little lie and I am sure I will be able to confess my transgression the next time my confession is heard.’

  Jessica’s appreciation of the remarkable woman shot up. She may live in a spiritual world but she also had her feet firmly planted in the secular world. ‘Thank you, Mother Superior,’ Jessica said. ‘I will brief Pastor Heinz on the message you received.’

  ‘The coastwatcher’s boy will be able to guide you to his location tonight,’ Sister Michael said. ‘There is a place in the wire you are able to get through at night. The best time is around midnight when the guard changes sentry duty. They tend to spend some time having tea before swapping over shifts.’

  Jessica thanked Sister Michael and returned to her class. It was hard to concentrate when her mind whirled with thoughts of escape that night. It would not be easy, and anything could go wrong.

  *

  The Japanese officer was taller than most of his people, and had a studious look with the spectacles he wore. He stood before Sister Michael under the pale light of a kerosene lantern on the verandah of her quarters. Great moths flitted around the lantern in the oppressive tropical night. The nun was dressed in a neck to ankle nightgown which she pulled around her neck.

  ‘They are not here,’ he said almost mildly in near-perfect English. ‘My men have searched their quarters and they do not seem to be anywhere to be found.’

  ‘I have no idea where they could be,’ Sister Michael replied in her most sincere tone. ‘I am as shocked as you are that they are missing. I shudder to think that my suspicions of Sister Camillus may have been correct. Oh, poor girl, she has placed her immortal soul in jeopardy.’

  Sister Michael suspected the Japanese officer of being a Christian from her previous experiences with him but he dare not admit his religion as an officer in the Imperial Japanese Army. This had made him a little more sympathetic to the plight of the missionary nuns.

  ‘What do you mean, Sister Michael?’ he asked.

  ‘I have suspected that whilst together before returning to the station Pastor Heinz and Sister Camillus may have been possibly intimate.’

  The Japanese officer took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. It was after midnight and he had just reached the missionary station with a small detachment of his men to arrest the two newcomers. ‘Sister Clement has told me that she does not believe Sister Camillus is really a nun anymore,’ he said, replacing his spectacles. ‘That would mean you are harbouring spies.’

  ‘Sister Clement suffers mild dementia,’ Sister Michael said. ‘She is prone to imagining things.’

  ‘She appears lucid to me,’ the officer said. ‘She has gone to a lot of trouble to pass on a message to my staff. You are aware that if you do not co-operate with me then I will have no choice but to turn you over to the Kempeitai.’

  Sister Michael felt the icy cold fear of the threat. The dreaded Japanese military secret police were known for their torture methods to extract information. She knew the threat was not a bluff. ‘I have been reluctant to raise the issue concerning the Lutheran pastor and one of my nuns as I am sure you could appreciate. If they are missing I can only conclude that my suspicions were correct and this could bring great shame on my nuns. I am sure that you understand the gravity of shame.’

  Sister Michael knew that she was not only fighting for her survival but of all those in her care. She knew that if their Japanese captors believed that a plot had been formulated in the missionary station then all could be executed – regardless of innocence. But she also knew there was a spark of decency in this particular Japanese officer.

  ‘I think I understand,’ he finally replied after a short silence, as if contemplating what he should do as right and what was his military duty to the emperor. ‘I will mount an immediate search for them. You may return to your sleep, Sister Michael.’

  The Japanese officer stepped off the verandah and rallied his men. Sister Clement had told him about a break in the wire and that was where he would commence his search.

  *

  Jessica had exchanged her nun’s garb with one of the Australian nurses for slacks and a shirt before she and Roland had made their escape. The night was pitch black and the going in the dense undergrowth of the tropical forest was slow. The young, native man led the way and they often had to stop to ensure they were still together in the dark.

  ‘How far?’ Jessica had asked in the local dialect, and the native boy informed her that they should be close by dawn. As fit as she was the need for water was causing her some distress. The march through the tropical forest was taking a toll on her physical reserves, but the young native man informed her that they had to keep going to place distance between themselves and the mission station. They slogged through the night, climbing steep slopes and sliding down ravines. When the first rays of the sun appeared through the jungle foliage they finally dropped to the musty floor of the great forest giants. Sweat poured down Jessica’s body and all she could think of was water.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Roland asked and Jessica nodded. Their guide had disappeared.

  ‘Where is he?’ Jessica croaked.

>   ‘He’s gone to make contact with the coastwatcher,’ Roland replied, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his shirt sleeve. ‘The coastwatcher has a policy of not leading anyone to his hide-out lest the Japs be tracking. He told me that he will make contact with us here.’

  ‘Hope he’s got water,’ Jessica said and leaned back against the buttress roots of one of the tall trees. Around her the forest was coming alive with the sound of the diurnal creatures of the Pacific.

  *

  The Japanese intelligence officer had not believed the mother superior’s story about the nun and pastor eloping. It had no ring of truth, and he had struggled with his duty to hand over the old woman to the cruel secret police. But his Christian morality nagged him to spare her as he had already formulated what was happening. He held a dossier on Sister Camillus and it was when he had been informed by Sister Clement’s message of her sudden reappearance at the mission station that he had immediately activated his section to track her down. Unconfirmed reports from his native sources had implicated the nun in assisting the evasion of an Australian soldier the year before and, somehow, she had mysteriously returned. As far as he was concerned she had to be on a mission for the Allies and her companion, the Lutheran pastor, her accomplice.

  He stood watching the sun rise from the verandah of the mission station knowing that his prey had a good lead on a detachment of his men out in the jungle.

  The Japanese officer had directed them to follow a course to the sea as he knew an Australian coastwatcher was active in that area. If he had surmised right, the pair he sought would no doubt be attempting to make contact and finally the intelligence officer would be able to bag three birds in one swoop.

  The intelligence officer called for his radio man and sent a message to the nearest navy outpost. He gave them the good news that it was possible that an American or Australian submarine was in the vicinity of a grid reference he provided. If he was right and his mission successful he would no doubt receive praise from his superiors for the killing or capture of a dangerous coastwatcher, two spies and the sinking of an Allied submarine.