Nothing Forgotten, Nothing Learned: The Fall of Singapore

Innocents No More - Book 5 - Nothing Forgotten, Nothing Learned The Fall of Singapore Andrew Wareham Copyright © 2023 Andrew Wareham KINDLE Edition All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them. PublishNation www.publishnation.co.uk Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter One Wing Commander Thomas Stark stood in what had been a first class saloon, was now officers mess of a troopship. He gravely exchanged salutes with a lieutenant colonel of a British regiment, unknown to him previously, which, he gathered, reflected poorly on him. “Glosters, you know. Been about since the Flood.” “RAF, sir. Somewhat newer than that.” “Yes, of course, old chap. Rather young for the rank, are you not?” The colonel was forty-five, at a glance, not best pleased that Thomas was at least twenty years his junior but equal in rank. “Had a busy war, Colonel. Were you in France?” It was, intentionally, a tactless question. The gentleman had not been, had been training his battalion on Salisbury Plain in expectation of going out, but Dunkirk had supervened. “Took us all by surprise, that business. We were pulled out a week or two earlier, down to two planes and half a dozen unwounded pilots.” The Colonel glanced at Thomas’ chest, noting the DFC and bar and DSO and bar and making no further comment. Those decorations were not given away for nothing, except to staff officers, perhaps. He carried a respectable collection himself, from the Great War and various sideshows since. “I believe we will be senior officers as far as Colombo at least. Do you go further, Stark?” “All the way to Australia, Colonel. Being called home to aid in training and in setting up a line of defence in the Far North. Expecting the Japs to come calling any time, it seems.” “Oh, surely not! Hong Kong and Singapore to stop them, even if they get that far. I really don’t see any likelihood of a Japanese incursion into Australia, you know.” “They will be knocking on the door of India when they start moving, bet you, Colonel. All I have been told says they are all tooled up and ready to go. They think they can drive the British presence out of the Far East and create their own empire in its place. They might be right.” The Colonel was unconvinced. “I’m Probert, by the way.” He offered a hand to shake. “Good to meet you. No RAF detachment aboard this ship, so the running of it is up to you, Probert. Just myself and my batman from the RAF.” “That might make things easier, Stark. I had heard that it was often difficult to run an officers mess when the two services were together.” “Yes. Had fun coming out from England. Ended up with two messes, sharing the same big cabin space but separate in every other way. We don’t go for formality in the RAF, not in Fighter Command. None of this ‘Mr Vice’ and sipping port for hours. Much prefer a pint of beer with our meals, in fact.” “Well, I do not think that will be the case on this voyage, Stark! We shall maintain a civilised existence, as much as rationing will permit.” Thomas had suspected as much. “Tip me the wink when I go wrong, then. I’ve been too busy fighting to learn the games that officers play.” “You are a wartime officer?” “Almost. Joined at the end of ’38, when I came out of Spain. It was obvious then that there would be a war and I had been killing fascists for a year and more and it seemed like a good habit to continue. The RAF agreed, well some of them – there were a few out and out fascists in their ranks. Most of them have been weeded out but too many were sent to overseas postings, Far East especially. There’s more than a few bloody fools in Singapore and Hong Kong and India. The Japs will kill them off quick time, I would expect. They don’t give a damn what sort of politics a man has.” Probert was taken aback. He had thought that Mosley had often made good sense, though he had kept well clear of his party and its overt members. “Not the sort of thing a soldier gets involved in, Stark.” “Good. It’s our job to fight the war, not talk about what started it.” “Couldn’t agree more, old chap! While I think of it, I met a flier called Stark out in Flanders, last time around…” “My father. He’s back in, is due to go back to Oz any time. The government has asked for men to be brought back to get them set up for war in the home area. My father-in-law, Noah Arkwright, has already gone.” “Heard of him, too, of course. Close-knit family, one might say.” “One might, Probert.” They were called by the Purser, acting as billeting officer on the converted liner, having remained with the ship, as had most of its officers and crew. “First class, largest cabins, gentlemen. I have accommodation for your batmen, within reason close. Not much for them to do as you have personal stewards. Chinese.