Tainted Treasure (China Marine)

by Buzz Harcus

  “Now we’re in business,” Harry said. He loaded a clip of 8 rounds in the M-1 rifle, slammed the bolt home, saying, “Locked and loaded.”

  “Dey are coming in fast behind us,” Karl called out. “I don’t like it.”

  “Keep down and out of sight,” Harry called. Picking up the binoculars again, he watched the fast approaching boat. He could see many people silhouetted against the dusky sky. And they were armed!

  A bright light suddenly washed across the Devil May Care. A voice on a bullhorn called out for them to heave to for boarding. “This is the Asia Coast Guard!”

  “Asia Coast Guard my ass,” Harry swore. “Stay low and out of sight,” he warned the others. He dropped down to the galley looking around, “Al, have you got any empty vodka bottles on board?”

  “Vodka?” Al gave him a puzzled look. “Empty bottles? What for?”

  “Molotov cocktails,” Harry grinned. “We can cripple them with one good flaming gasoline filled bottle.”

  Judy dug into the galley waste basket coming up with two empty wine bottles. “Give me dose,” Karl snapped, grabbing the bottles. “Harry take der vheel.”

  He disappeared below deck heading for the engine compartment. In a matter of minutes he returned with the two bottles filled with gasoline and gave them to Harry, then relieved him at the wheel.

  Harry ripped a table napkin in half, soaked one half in gasoline, then stuffed it in one of the bottles, then repeated the process with the other rag and bottle. “Al, your job is to light each rag when I call for a bottle. I’ll toss them.”

  Turning his attention to Judy, he said, “I want you to aim your rifle at the light. I want it out. When I yell you, give them a quick burst!”

  “Heave to!” the bullhorn voice called. “Heave to and no one gets hurt!” A burst of machine gun fire whistled over their heads.

  “That’s not your friendly coast guard,” Harry snapped, watching as the boat came up closer on the starboard side. “Maintain speed!” he yelled at Karl. Another burst of machine gun fire and bullets raked the yacht, splintering wood and shattering glass. Simultaneously, there was a sudden thump on the after deck.

  “Grappling hook,” Harry called. And then the thump of a second hook.

  “Shoot the light!” he yelled at Judy. “Shoot the damned light now!”

  Judy’s aim was true. A short burst from her AK-47 and the light shattered. A scream of pain was heard. “Now!” Harry called to Al as he held out a Molotov cocktail. Al quickly lit the gasoline soaked rag. Harry took aim and threw the bottle at the boat just as it banged solidly against the hull of the Devil May Care. The bottle smashed against the other boat’s bridge and flame shot out engulfing the area.

  An armed man jumped aboard and was immediately cut down by Judy’s AK-47. He fell back overboard. Harry’s aim with the second cocktail saw it shattering in the mid section of the boat, flames immediately engulfing the boat in a roaring fire.

  While the panicked attackers frantically tried to put out the fire, Harry dove to the stern and grabbed a grappling hook. He jerked it free and tossed it overboard, then scurried further aft, grabbed the second hook, and tossed it overboard.

  Seeing they were free, Karl turned the wheel hard to port and headed out increasing their speed and distancing them from their attackers.

  Astern the other boat had gone dead in the water. There were screams of pain, people jumping overboard, and then the boat suddenly erupted in one startling explosion. The fire had hit the fuel tank.

  “Anyone hurt?” Harry called out. “No!” came three quick replies.

  Karl stayed at the helm while the others did a quick examination of the craft. “No damage that can hold us back,” reported Judy. “Several more bullet holes but no damage,” called Al. “No damage. No injuries. We’re damned lucky!”

  The Devil May Care roared off into the increasing darkness.

  At mid-morning three days later, the Devil May Care entered Manila Bay moving along at a comfortable speed. The beautiful yacht was no longer beautiful. Now it was pockmarked with bullet holes, shattered windows, and signs of blood smeared the deck and aft rails.

  “We’re like one dysfunctional family,” Judy quipped at one point during the last couple of days in which the foursome had gotten to know one another better, “but hey, at least we‘re a live family!”

  In spite of Karl’s first aid assistance, Al still felt distress. Judy cleansed his wound twice a day. She also continued her self given task as chief cook and bottle washer, although the others pitched in to help. Meals were simple, a time to talk, recalling earlier times in their lives, funny times, embarrassing times, kinfolk, and corny jokes.

  Karl and Harry spelled each other at the helm. They had throttled back running at 10 knots in order to conserve fuel as they moved ever deeper into the bay toward Manila.

  All looked forward to getting into Manila and getting their lives back in order. Harry’s thoughts were about Osa. Was she okay? Had she been hurt? She had to be alive! And the crew? After what those four bastards had done to that Asian crew, and he was certain every last man went down with the ship, would that be the fate of Nurad’s crew?

  Karl, too, worried about Osa, his crew, and his ship. As soon as they landed in Manila he would check with the maritime authorities to see if the Nurad had shown up at it’s intended destination in Davao on Samar. If not, he would implore the authorities and police to check throughout the islands to see if Nurad had shown up in another port.

  Al stood with his good arm around Judy‘s waste. He, too, was anxious to get ashore. First stop would be a hospital, and then he’d place a call for his private plane to fly down to take Judy and himself back to Sydney.

  During the last three days, whether over lunch, dinner or during cocktails, Al had constantly preached to Harry and Karl about the need to invest their money in oil, gas and other forms of energy, especially in electronic technology and computers, even in soft drinks bottlers like Coke and Pepsi. Both were headed for world-wide distribution of their products.

  “The world is getting smaller and smaller because of the development of advanced electronic equipment and interactive communications,” he stressed one day. “The world itself is changing. Some major powers are losing power, other nations are gaining power. No longer can a country stand alone for the future calls for a global economy,” he said, “and politics are changing. Big business and lobbyists think all politicians can be bought—and you know what? They’re right! Politicians don’t represent their constituency any more, they sell the public short for special interest money. They‘re greedy and getting greedier!”

  Harry had listened well, although somewhat skeptical: a global economy? Never. The United States was the most powerful nation in the world. They were self-sufficient. Crooked politicians? No! Sure he knew that lobbyists had an in with the politicians, but politicians represented the people, not special interest groups.

  That had brought a chuckle from Karl. Being older and wiser of the world, he knew change was coming, and he knew about the workings of politics and business. The world was full of weak, greedy people! But at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to find his ship and shipmates safe and sound, and to go home.

  “The United States is powerful now,” Al chided Harry, “but remember, Rome fell, the British Empire collapsed, the Chinese are getting more powerful with their millions upon millions of people, and Russia is in a precarious position. Hell, even Mexico is a threat to California and Arizona! Damned Mexicans swarming across the border and no one stopping them! The damned do-little Congress sits on it’s ass, accepts bribes and gifts, and screws the American tax payer.”

  He stopped at the feel of Judy’s hand on his shoulder. “Al tends to get on a soap box and lambaste the way the politicians are screwing the public,” Judy said sweetly. “Lunch will be ready shortly.”

  A big lump came to Harry’s throat as the yacht moved past the fortress, Corregidor. Thoughts of the heroic effort made
by General Wainwright and his forces, the escape by General MacArthur, and the terrible cost of lives when Corregidor surrendered to the Japs flooded his mind. Almost automatically, he snapped to attention, and saluted the fortress.

  The first time he’d seen the fortress was in 1947 while aboard the troop ship, General J.C. Breckenridge, as they moved into Manila harbor. He remembered reading about the Fourth Marines leaving Shanghai late in 1941, and being transferred to the Philippines. They had barely arrived before Japan declared war against the United States. The Marines were immediately pressed into service fighting the Japs. And then there was Bataan, the long march, and the killings and beating of American and allied troops by ruthless, sadistic Jap soldiers.

  Thousands of men languished and died in despicable Japanese prisoner of war camps such as Camp O‘Donnell, Cabanatuan and Bilibid. Harry prayed history would never let the Japs live down their despicable war atrocities.

  Manila was still a chaotic mess in 1947, Harry recalled. The docks were a shambles, buildings and warehouses pock-marked with shell and bullet holes. Along the breakwater and throughout the harbor could be seen the masts and tops of hundreds of sunken ships.

  Liberty had been given that night and young Marines poured ashore to see the sights of the city, find out more about the battles fought there, and to buy souvenirs. Some even rode the crazy, colorful jitneys that buzzed in and around. The jitneys were former military jeeps that the locals had converted to their use as taxis and general transportation.

  It was hot and humid in Manila that night. Hundreds of marines and sailors thronged the narrow streets. Bars became a focal point, cheap booze, lots to drink, bar girls, laughter, and a good time could be had with a girl upstairs for a couple of bucks.

  Harry smiled recalling drinking at a place called the Yellow Bar. What a mad house. What a hell of a night. A lot of guys brought all kinds of crazy souvenirs back to the ship, even the clap. The next day the Breckenridge sailed outbound, once again passing Corregidor on their way to China. Marines, and the ship’s crew, saluted as the ship sailed past the fortress.

  CHAPTER 37

  Safe Arrival in Manila

  Manila harbor was far different this time. Harry stood in awe looking about the harbor at the many ships anchored there, the many smaller coastal vessels, and dozens upon dozens of small craft. The city, itself, stood like a glimmering jewel. The war had long passed by and time changed everything.

  As they moved deeper into the harbor, Captain Andress checked each of the dozen huge ocean-going ships through the binoculars. Nurad was not among them.

  Turning his attention to the shoreline, Captain Andress located a fair sized marina and eased the Devil May Care through a cluster of small boats that quickly scattered, with much swearing by the brown-skinned occupants, and nosed into one of the larger slips.

  Fenders were quickly secured along the side of the boat, then Harry leaped ashore and secured the bowline while Judy, like a true pro, jumped ashore and secured the stern line, then the spring lines.

  An older dark-skinned Filipino man in a faded khaki shirt, faded white shorts and wearing an old rattan hat and old deck shoes came running down the dock yelling at them. “You no can dock here!” he shouted. “You no can dock here!”

  Having shut down the engines, Captain Andress stepped ashore, put up his hand to halt the guy, and gave him one of his hard looks. Suddenly he grabbed the man’s shirt front lifting him off his feet. Gruffly he said, “You are going to be my new best friend as of now! I vant you to get der police und an ambulance down here. Ve haf a vounded man on board. Und I vant you to contact der Swedish Embassy, der American Embassy und der Australian Embassy—and I vant it done now!”

  “But—but,” the Filipino protested. “You no can dock here! This dock space is paid for. There is another boat due here yet this afternoon. You no can dock here!”

  Captain Andress gave the man a quick shake, then dropped him. The Filipino gulped as Captain Andress growled, “You heard me. Go!”

  The Filipino took off on the run to get away from the old madman. Yet, in ten minutes the police had arrived, with an ambulance arriving moments later.

  Captain Andress, Harry, Al and Judy met with the police. They explained to the Police Sergeant in charge the series of events that brought them into Manila. A couple more police cars arrived with more officers. Over the next hour everyone ended up on board the yacht with the police being personally escorted throughout the vessel to explore the extent of damage, and to get, first hand, the story of the pirate raids.

  The old Filipino continued to harangue the police that this slip was being saved for another boat due in any moment, and to get this ugly boat out of there.

  The Sergeant, abruptly stopped his questioning, turned and yelled at the old Filipino. “This yacht will not be moved. It is a crime scene. The other boat will have to go to another slip or anchor out. That is an order!”

  The foursome were escorted to the waiting ambulance and quickly whisked away, sirens wailing, and with a police escort, to the nearest hospital. While Al and Judy went to emergency, Karl and Harry talked to the Sergeant about the Nurad.

  The police recorded all the information on the hi-jacked Nurad and assured Captain Andress they would contact the maritime authorities. They would make it a priority to pursue investigating the whereabouts of the vessel, and the fate of the crew.

  A bevy of hospital personnel descended upon the two at that moment. Doctor Roberto Azon, duty physician, said because of their extended exposure at sea, they both must have physical examinations. Mrs. Albert Lazlo insists! It was useless to protest.

  Over the next hour the two were subjected to thorough examinations. Several of the personnel were astonished the two had survived the elements and were in such good condition. An American dentist currently practicing in Manila was called in to check the two. A good old southern boy from South Carolina, he had a wealth of humorous stories to draw upon as he examined Harry’s mouth.

  “Y’all better see your dentist when you get home,” he said. “Yer okay for now, but you need a crown on one of them molars.”

  Dr. Azon pronounced both of them in good health in spite of what they had endured. No fee for service. Courtesy of Mrs. Albert Lazlo. Handshakes and smiles were shared all around. The police were even kind enough to drop Captain Andress off at the Swedish Embassy, then dropped Harry off at the American Embassy.

  The young career diplomat who met with Harry told him it would be a couple of days before the paper work could be completed for him. No problem. And then he‘d be on his way back to the United States. Harry grinned at the thought of going home. Yes, home!

  The young diplomat had Harry sign several papers in order to receive advance money, then gave him the name of a local hotel, inexpensive, but a tastefully decorated local landmark adjacent to the older historic district of Manila. And they have good food, he added.

  In the privacy of his room, Harry made a long distance collect call to his son, Jeff, in Saginaw. “Where are you?” demanded Jeff. Harry lied saying the ship had engine troubles and was laying over at Manila for several days, maybe a week, and yes, he was in good health. Reluctantly, but skeptically, Jeff accepted the explanation.

  Harry grinned ear to ear at hearing he was a grandfather. Sissy had a baby girl. Five pounds eight ounces. Blue eyes, red hair and very vocal. Harry laughed at that. His chest swelled at the thought of seeing his first grand child. He definitely would spoil her, something he wasn’t able to do for his kids because he’d kept his nose to the grindstone every day to make a living and make ends meet.

  On leaving the hotel he wandered down the noisy, crowded street looking for, and finding, a clothing store. Within minutes he had purchased a couple pairs of khaki pants, a couple of flowered shirts similar to what he saw many Filipinos wearing, underwear, socks, a pair of comfortable shoes and a cap.

  Showered, his scruffy beard shaved off, and dressed in new clothes, he headed out to find a decent
restaurant. Angling down a side street bustling with native humanity, noisy cars and blaring music from several bars, he was surprised to find himself standing outside a small combination bar and restaurant with a blinking neon sign noting it as the Yellow Bar. It obviously wasn’t the same Yellow Bar the Marines off the Breckenridge had frequented that one night they had liberty in Manila some thirty years ago, but it had the same name. On peering inside, it had the same noisy, crowded, smoky atmosphere.

  Stepping inside, Harry figured there were at least a dozen bar girls hustling drinks. All were young, shapely, dark haired, with dark-eyes enhanced with garish eye shadow, and bright red lipstick. Skirts rode high on their thighs, blouses low cut to better view the cleavage, and all had friendly ready smiles for the customers.

  The clientele was a mix of young Filipinos, American military, and curious tourists. Although the girls fawned over the sailors and Marines, they paid special attention to the tourists, especially those who obviously had healthy bankrolls.

  Same old same old, Harry thought finding an empty stool at the bar. He caught the eye of the bartender and ordered a cold beer. He was surprised to find it was a Miller’s. As he scanned the meager looking menu he sensed someone behind him.

  “You like company?” came a soft voice. Turning, his gaze took in a young Filipino woman with playful dark eyes, fairly attractive with a lithe figure, long black hair, and showing ample cleavage in a tight blouse. “You buy me a drink?”

  Harry laughed. My god, nothing’s changed. Same lines, same girls, probably the same old colored water at a high price. He gave a shake of his head. “No.”

  She gave him her best winning smile. “C’mon Yankee. Buy me a drink.”

  “Why would I want to buy you a drink?”

  “Because you like me.” Her face lit up with a big smile.