“Let’s take him with us tonight,” Carla said to Con.
“I’d like to. If he wants.”
Then Con felt Grey Travis’ foot under the table. Danny still heavily doped, and dopey, had grown deeply sullen with the thought of not being included.
“But maybe it would be better if we stayed around,” Con said. “Danny and I will have to go over this brief. We might need Niven, too. He’ll have plenty of time later on.”
Carla got the drift at once and agreed. But Danny’s sullenness had a sickening effect on Con. It tore at him. It wasn’t anything he understood and because there was no way to combat it, he felt at loss. He had horrible visions of Danny’s brain tissues turning bile green; Danny turned into a blubbering idiot with his co-ordination half-paralyzed.
Carla sensing Con’s disturbance put her hand over his but talked incessantly to Danny, subtly insulting England until she got a rise out of him. Once into debate he smiled again.
Niven returned. He had already decided he was madly in love with Carla but thought, gallantly, because Con was his friend he would never let on. He ate voraciously of the steak, drank throughout the meal. When he was finished Con urged him to let the Doctor give him a medical. Niven refused. Finally Carla intervened and he accepted readily.
By the time Niven and Doc Travis came out of the bedroom they were old friends. The Doc had had a chance to look at one of his stools. It was all full of mucus and blood, he said, and could be very serious. Niven wasn’t at all concerned. He took his pills and lit a big black cigar, then disobeyed the Doc’s very first order by launching a stand-up frontal attack on the brandy bottle. Then Con and Danny went into the bedroom and went to work on the brief.
It was quickly obvious what had occurred. The British who had not been able to move on the Arakan front, and who had suffered severe international criticism for it, had moved up their date of initial large scale attack so as to move off before the Stilwell forces in the Ledo area. Stilwell upon receiving this information had fooled the British by ordering the impossible (the British thought), the moving up of his schedule in order to give the American-Chinese forces the credit for the first major offensive in Asia.
In actuality, and unknowingly, the British had done Stilwell a favor he sorely needed for if Stilwell hadn’t been able to point out to the Chinese that the British moving ahead of them would cause them to lose face it was doubtful if the Chinese would have moved at all. Even with the threat of the coming participation of Merrill’s Marauders on the Ledo front. Because the Chinese had called Stilwell’s bluff about bringing in the Marauders in the first place (the Marauders were a political expedient of F.D.R.’s out of the Quebec Conference) the Chinese had called the bluff by telling Stilwell that to move the Marauders without them would cause a permanent severance of all agreements between the American and Chinese forces. But with the British instigating the loss of face, and the British not giving two hoots in hell about their relationship with the Chungking government, the Chinese were forced to move.
This face saving effort, Danny and Con mused, was probably the only thing that was getting the campaign started at all. In reality the vicious slandering of each other by Mountbatten, Kai-shek, Stilwell and their overly intellectually burdened Staffs, which was publicly considered a disunity of command, was in actuality presenting a competitive impetus which would launch the full scale Asiatic attack before the monsoon; three quarters of a year before the most optimistic impartial observer might have deemed probable. But what was odd was that out of all the Staffers and newspaper correspondents of the three separate commands Danny, Con, and the Colonel were the only ones in a position to see the picture from this viewpoint.
Page by page they went over the document, setting the pages aside to be burned as directed. The more they read the more they did not like it; the vast powers that were being invested in them.
Henceforth, the paper said, all territory that they operated in was to be considered under their own martial law. They were given authority, by what authority the paper did not mention, to hold trial and execute all law; civil, criminal, and military from a line Wallawbum-Fort Herts south, it did not say how far south so that they were free to presume south to Rangoon, Moulmein, or even the Thailand border. Then from the north line east to the Salween River, which meant their territory extended into China in places. Then the west line, generally Wuntho and the Shwebo valley in Central Burma.
It was utterly ridiculous. Fantastic. It would entail an operation in which they were in no way experienced or prepared; legal advisors, personnel to execute civil government, military police, medical men to provide and execute sanitation, transportation men to operate railroads and river boats, and a host of other experts. All this in a country which belonged to no country for which they were enlisted, stated by an authority that did not state its authority, and which in all feasibility could not have such authority.
“It’s the kind of document they’d expect you to ignore,” Danny said.
“Which is exactly why we shouldn’t ignore it,” Con said.
“Righto. I think that’s why the Colonel sent Niven with it. To show it was important.”
And for that reason they studied and discussed it. If they assumed the responsibility, which they could hardly refuse, they would assume the responsibility for everyone in the territory named. And they could feasibly presume, because Chinese and American forces were not mentioned as being excluded from the jurisdiction of the area, that they would be responsible for their non-military conduct too. And then analyzing further they were forced to laugh. For as incredible as it was the paper could be interpreted as making them responsible for the conduct of the Japanese troops because the paper plainly gave them the authority over the territory in which the Kachins operated which was almost all Japanese occupied territory.
Now it was true that at the Gwalior conference, and prior to that, Danny and Con had asked for an authority that would be justly representative of their governments in the treatment of political and military prisoners, the Kachin treatment of Japanese sympathizers being rather barbaric. Especially when the sympathizers were Shan or Indian or Chinese, ancient enemies of their race. The Kachins were much too prone to hasty decisions and all too ready to execute judgment on hearsay. On three different specific occasions that Danny and Con knew of, the Kachins had condemned and executed prisoners that were posthumously exonerated when the true culprits were apprehended.
This made marvelous propaganda for the Japanese in Burma. From Bhamo to Rangoon they made political moonshine out of the executions. And because they had knowledge of Danny and Con as tactical leaders of the guerrilla forces they placed the blame on them and their respective governments.
For those reasons they had asked for the right to hold trial and execute law in the case of political or military prisoners. But only in those cases. There still remained the disposition of those cases that would be stymied by a lack of evidence. They had explained that for reasons of their own safety they could not release any suspicious persons. They could not justly execute them on suspicion and they could not turn them over to the troops or to the people for safe-keeping because such prisoners always seemed to disappear. What they had requested was that suspected persons be either flown out or turned over to an American supervised Kachin prison somewhere in the Hills for trial at a later date.
This paper then was the reply. And when a command that thrives on detail, specific detail and strict adherence to military law begins to deal in outrageous generalities there was something foul afoot, Danny and Con knew.
It looked more and more like the old army game. It was more than likely, they deduced, that the West Point clique in Delhi had seen the possibility of glorifying their records if they could assume control of the Kachin situation. And this was their nice way of telling Danny and Con, and the rest, to get out, our segment was taking over. It was the way they worked, they knew, ask anyone in Air Intelligence C.B.I. It had happened exactly that wa
y in that outfit.
Then there were other possibilities. It was a well known fact to everyone, except Stilwell, that a block of his own people thought the experiment of making combat soldiers out of the Chinese was doomed to failure. The stigma of merely being attached to such a failure, should it occur, would be disastrous to the future of a career officer. In certain quarters, everyone knew, there had been a near panic of buck passing several months back. Now it was quite possible that these gentlemen officers were trying to set someone up for this failure of the Chinese that had not as yet occurred.
“It would be simple to blame us for supplying them with faulty information,” Con said. “How many angles do they want over our heads.”
“Faulty information would be a way,” Danny thought hard a moment, straining. Then suddenly his keen interest in the work at hand transcended the numbed cortex of his brain. For the first time in days he could reason clearly, without cloudiness. “But faulty information wouldn’t stand up if the Chinese held a numerical superiority,” he countered. “But they could blame the defeat on the failure of the Burmese people to co-operate. And according to this fantastic paper you and I are responsible for their co-operation.”
“But this paper lays everything directly on us,” Con said. “We haven’t got half enough rank to play patsy for all that brass. It’s the Colonel’s ass you’d think they’d want now. They’ve been trying to get him for months anyhow; success or failure.”
“But they have the Colonel’s ass, Con. Don’t you see that if the authority of this paper were given to the Colonel instead of us they could knock the Colonel out but not necessarily us. They’d still have us to contend with and we might be in a position to defend the Colonel. This way the Colonel is responsible for us by the mere fact that he’s our commanding officer. Even if he doesn’t have the authority we do. So we bugger it up and swish, we all go with one swipe of the broom.”
Con whistled, then momentarily pondered. “If they fail it’s our fault. If it’s a success they’ve got thirty ways to take us out and get the credit. They really got us between a shit and a sweat this time,” he grinned. “You’ve got to hand it to those bastards. They think of everything.”
“Dirty pool, I say. You’d think they’d try and buy us out first,” Danny smiled. “Offer you a majority. Make me a brigadier.”
“Is that what they’d do in the British army?” Con ribbed.
“Hell no. Not in this case anyhow. It doesn’t fit. But every army is the same in that respect, Con. Don’t forget it’s men with a love for command and power that makes armies. Those bastards, and granted that they’re bastards, are the basis of the better armies. Always have been. Look at the incentive they’ve created right here. A negative incentive, I grant. But incentive enough to make us work doubly hard and be doubly careful in our every move.”
“More than doubly hard as far as I’m concerned.”
Once again, carefully, they went over what they had read. From every possibility sprang other possibilities but always two things remained. No matter what happened it could be their ass. And secondly, though the Colonel had endorsed the paper he had not written it. First, because it obviously didn’t sound like him. Second, because the orders placed him in a position whereby he had everything to lose and nothing to gain.
Con noticed how Danny had thrived on the discussion. Not once since they had gotten into it had he lapsed into one of his depressive moods familiar of the last few days. And color flashed to his face as he spoke of orthodox military men getting control of the Kachins. More than anything it was that thought that had aroused their ire, for the primary axiom of the orthodox military was concentration of force at time of contact so as to be superior in numerical strength and fire power.
In guerrilla warfare this would be disastrous. The Kachins, as capable as they were at their own game would be slaughtered in pitched battle. And equally important the Kachins deployed in an orthodox fashion would loose all their effectiveness, releasing control of the Hills to the mercy of the larger Japanese forces. The Hills, where under the cover of mountains and jungle they could wage a costly defensive war always at their own advantage.
“You just can’t talk to military men unless it’s in numbers,” Danny said. “For years guerrilla warfare has defied the military law of numerical superiority. Something the military scientists have never bothered to explain.”
“Not only that,” Con said, “but there never has been a guerrilla force that has been defeated. Not in history. Dissipated but not defeated. You’d think they’d remember the price they paid to do the dissipating. But that would really screw up their arithmetic.”
Then the Doctor came in and said that Danny must get his rest, it was almost midnight. They decided to get together and go over it again in the morning. Perhaps they would even place a call to the Colonel. Then the Doctor gave Danny his sleeping pill and Con began to put the papers back in the brief case. Then he saw the envelope which was marked personally for him, which he had seen before but forgotten about.
There was a note from the Colonel and another envelope inside:
Con—
Due to your association with Miss Carlotta Vesari it was necessary, according to the policy of the organization, that we investigate her background to determine the nature of her political views. I’m sure you understand. She has been cleared by our C.I. division you will be happy to know. I thought this report might be of interest to you—
Ray
“You know,” Con said showing the note to Danny, “sometimes the farmer comes out in the Colonel.”
Danny, Con, and Niven met the next morning. They decided to include the Doctor in the briefing. About eleven, after the serious part of the discussion was over, they had a telephone call from the Colonel. He was in Calcutta. Con did the talking. The Colonel predicted the first move by whatever force was after them would be the infiltration of their command through officers and enlisted men of a liaison status. This would give them a foothold and an opportunity to gain information of a critical nature on the spot. The Colonel was beating them to the punch. He had informed all C.B.I. branches that he was sending liaison to them. That for the sake of security all necessary exchanges of information take place outside Colonel Pearson’s headquarters. He had confirmation, he told Con, that eight trained junior officers he had requested under emergency orders were being flown from the States to fill these newly created vacancies.
Then, the Colonel said, he was going to promote everyone as fast as possible. He was asking for the authority, as long as they were passing authority out as they were, for Danny and Con to commission in the field. Under the circumstances, the Colonel said, they could hardly be refused. With sufficient rank they could suppress the activities of any men that would be slipped in as tactical observers or intelligence contact men via Merrill’s force or the American trained Chinese. He said that for now that was all he could do to counteract the paper but had several other ideas and was informing Washington. He asked Con to meet him in Delhi in four days, then inquired of Danny’s health. Finally he gave his verbal O.K. for Niven to spend his leave wherever he wanted, there or Delhi or Calcutta.
The four days fled. If Con’s conduct had done anything to disillusion the international opinion that all Americans were crazy, Niven quickly restored it.
He had opened the Casino about two hours after they had talked to the Colonel. He had been drinking on an empty stomach and played a gambler’s game of roulette. He had learned it at Bradly’s in Palm Beach, the system of an exiled Russian Count, he told Carla. The croupier had been completely foiled by his boisterous drunkenness and his youth. When Niven cashed in he had over fifteen thousand rupees in his pocket, almost five thousand American. A European-styled rajah had gone with him and cleaned up a small fortune.
He had gone wild after that. Con and Carla had stayed with him until late that afternoon. They had introduced him to a petite, raven headed White Russian dancer that was almost old enough to be h
is grandmother. Her name was Clarissa. She was dressed in a white flannel coat with a white fur Cossack hat and was exquisitely kept. She carried a small Pomeranian lap dog everywhere and did the finale solo ballet at the Bombay Club. In his drunkenness she had looked extremely young and intriguingly sophisticated and she had a way of making him feel very manly and courageous.
That first night after he had met her he had sat at a floor-side table with a group of her friends while she had performed her act. He shouted and waved his money around and picked up all the tabs. He had dropped a few rupees on the floor and several waiters had made a scramble for them. He had then gotten a bunch of one rupee notes and scattered them all over the floor until all the waiters in the room were scrambling round him. He completely disrupted the service. The manager finally got all the waiters back to their stations and restored order. With a great deal of tact he managed to calm Niven. Clarissa joined the party and Niven began to scatter money again. After a considerable scene the manager escorted Niven to the door as Clarissa followed screaming oaths at the manager. Near the door Niven shook loose and clobbered the stocky middle aged manager. Surprised and stunned he came at Niven low and fast. Niven side-stepped and shoved and clubbed him behind the head with one surprising, quick, agile motion and the manager bounced into the cigar stand and the cash register tumbled off onto the floor. Two assistants grabbed Niven but he could hear Clarissa hollering: “Giv it to hem my American.” He spun and shook them both off upending a plam plant. Finally they all ganged him and the police came as he still struggled violently, locked on the floor.
Con and Carla had come down to the jail and gotten him out. Con took all his money but a thousand rupees. Niven and Clarissa took off for the Casino. That night Niven moved in with her.
Carla had cleaned things up at the cottage. She had dispatched her ayah ahead to Delhi and was herself going with Con in one of the two cars they had hired. Danny in the same movement was being transported to the American hospital at Delhi. Niven had decided to stay on in Mosorrie for four more days, until his Russian’s engagement was fulfilled and she left for Madras.
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