Back in Nakasaghi

The 2nd part of my Goodnight Sweetheart tale. Steve Livingston's life is about to get dangerous.

-o0o0o0o0o0o0o-

The following Saturday, Steve thought he fancied a bit of the forties experience again. Gary was away, so he nipped back to Gary's yard and back to the Royal Oak. Then he was sitting with a wartime beer, which he was just getting used to and some comforting white fivers. His pocket. There was no sign of Gary, but his other wife, Phoebe gave him a wave. Steve gave her a sympathetic smile.

Steve looked at piano in the corner and some sailors he recognised from the other evening. 'Evening,' said he been a sociable person. 'Shall I play you a song,' he suggested, 'I've written a few tunes myself you know,' and moved over to the piano and opened its lid.

'Another songwriter, but you'll have to be could to live up to Gary,' said Phoebe.

'And from the secret service as well, never knew they were all so musical,' laughed Reg.

'Still let's hear it,' asked Phoebe, and Steve decided to play a little rendition of 'I'll get by with a little help from my friends,' though the version he was thinking of when he played it was a remake itself as it happened. Well, the applause and appreciation was positive. At first. Then Phoebe said thoughtfully, scratching her chin, 'I do think that Gary is a better singer to be honest. And I preferred crocodile rock,'

'Yes Gary is a bit better,' Reg agreed to Steve's annoyance. Then he added, 'I've heard that one before anyway. That's one of Gary's that is. You! That's cheeky, playing a tune that isn't yours and claiming it. That's wotssname, plagiarism!'

'Well, he should know and thank you for your input,' replied Steve frostily. Then moved over and joined in the conversation with the Sailors. They did seem an interesting bunch, just back from the British Raj, one of them was Indian, Imran, who told dramatic, but frankly untrue, tales of foreign countries from his engine room. The places they had been to. Some, Steve could only dream of going. But they weren't that wealthy. Feeling his fivers again, Steve thought that he probably was the richest person in the pub, and he was feeling generous and in a mood for more beer.

Steve was crouching under a large plant. Soaking wet. Hot and scared. In the middle of a jungle. Well, a rainforest to be precise, but Steve wasn't in the mood to be precise. And there was a good reason as to why he was hiding. He was hiding because across a clearing in one of the many trees was a Japanese sniper, who as it actually counted his kills and would have been only too happy to blow Steve's brains out.

In fact the Japanese were in control of the entire country having pushed out the British and Americans. Steve was terribly hungry having not eaten all day, trying to keep,out of the torrential rainfall, ignoring the leeches biting his feet and the many other insects around him, large hairy spiders possibly, but that was the least of his problems.

He quietly moved the large rifle he was carrying to a comfortable position, He, Steve from the 1990s, carryingna rifle. He couldn't believe matters had come to this. But he had to have a rifle. He had to protect himself against the marauding Japanese who half the time were in no mood to take prisoners and even if they did Steve didn't fancy life as a Japanese pow.

One of his friends offered him some kind of food, but whilst he was grateful, it wasn't his ideal choice of Indian cuisine! For a moment Steve gave a little sigh and wondered how his life had taken such a wretched turn.

It was that Saturday evening in the Royal Oak. A bit flush, in a sociable mood, and perhaps drinking more of that wartime ale than he should have done, Steve became rather pally with some sailors at the pub. They had tales of the exotic places they had visited, and wonderlust conquered Steve's soul. He found out they were in need of an extra hand.

'We're of to India for trade, should be good and profitable an easy life, well easier than this war-torn country is, fancy coming?' Steve agreed that a holiday in the British Raj sounded fun. How he would later come to regrert this! But off he went.

His first sign of regret came when he met the ship's captain, Captain Ferguson. He was a dour scot and seemed little pleased to have someone new to the sea on board the vessel. 'Keep him out of my way and keep him busy,' he growled. In fact the first day he yelled at Steve, 'go and find some and work, get to the kitchen, do something useful or I'll leave you stranded at our first port!'

Other than that, the first stage of the journey was good. After a day or so they entered the Mediterranean, nice and hot, the sea blue and calm. They were taking the usual route to India via the Suez canal. Steve spend his time in the kitchen, doing chores up deck but he enjoyed most working in the engine room with Imran, the funny little Indian chap with his amusing, but not very believable tales of his journeys in a blue engineers uniform.

He was in the kitchen when he felt an explosion and the ship, called the Maurice lurched. It was at this moment that he remembered that this was 1942 the world was at war and there was always the chance the ship could be sunk. The alarm sounded and he hurried up deck. Nathan, the navigator was watching the seas with a pair of binoculars.

'There are some destroyers out there. Italian.'

'So, nothing to worry about. Do they do good pasta?'

'Those are six Italian destroyers. Out for the kill with torpedoes, big guns and god knows what, down!' cried Nathan, as some shells exploded behind Maurice, and foam splashed over the deck. 'The good news is that there are also some Royal Navy vessels close by. The bad news is that we will be in the middle of a naval battle. Well just have to try to sneak away,'

Steve's thoughts were a bit mixed here. On the one hand, he did think, Italians! Surrender monkeys, what is the problem? On the other hand he did see several large ships with weaponry enough to sink the Maurice and frankly nearly crapped his pants. Truth was he was always told not quite the whole truth about the true Italian fighting capabilities. He was especially fearful when he saw shells landing on some of the ships. One Italian one was even sinking.

But the Maurice did sneak out of the battle. Whilst they did have some small arms, they were not really fitted out for warfare against full battleships. In fact they were part of the Merchant Navy and on a trading mission to India which is why none of those sailors were actually called up. And many were not English or of a fighting age anyway. Only Nathan was, but he got away with been a skilled Navigator on the Maurice.

However, after that incident, there was no more danger for a while. The Maurice passed through the Suez canal and on to India peacefully enough. Though the skipper was always on his case. Even if Steve was innocently looking at some interesting ruins in Egypt, Ferguson would snarl, 'work, work, work, you!'

'But I want to see those interesting Pyramids,'

'Carry on like that and I will bury you in one myself!'

They did see some of the sights of Egypt later. In the meantimeSteve used his decorating abilities to paint Maurice. In an interesting shade of blue in honour of his favourite football team, Chelsea. With a few corners of green for his Irish ancestory and his amateur football team which he liked to follow live in the flesh. But Maurice travelled on and made sailing as far as India. Which Steve enjoyed for a few weeks. Especially with his wages and some of the white fivers head managed to keep.

Then he had news that the crew were off again. 'Borneo,' said Fred an old member. Borneo, Steve had heard of the country but had little idea of were it was in the world.

'Somewhere in the far east,' explained Nathan.

'isn't that a bit close to Japan?' asked Steve.

'No, well be fine. Japan is hundreds of miles away. After that maybe Australia, never been there before, have you?' Steve had to confirm this, and as he had never been to Australia before fancied a trip there as well. Though now he thought about it, he had being away from 90s Blighty for quite a while. Still, nothing wrong with new experiences and it wasn't as if he could nip back to the time portal now anyway.

Whilst in India and with a forces connection, Steve experienced the joys of watching a concert party. Steve remembered a certain sitcom about far east concert parties and wondered if it was in any way accurate. Turned out it was 100%! The concert troop called themselves the Gay Boys which gave Seve a wry smile and thinking of how words changed their meaning over the decades.

But that was as good as the evening got. The show started with a song eeriingly similar to the program's, but there was little else funny. One man dressed as a woman, someone doing strange strength tests, or frankly the worse Adolf Hitler impersonation he had ever seen. At least he presumed it was Hitler who was been impersonated. Though Steve was obviously in a minority as everyone else thought the show a triumph. 'If this is what comedy was like, role on Month Python,' he thought giving the laughing Nathan a look of bitter reproach. The show probably was worse than comedy would be on British TV in 2012. But not by much!

Now Steve continued on his journey eastwoods on Maurice but without Imran. The little Indian had decided to stay in his home country. 'And you'd better watch yourself with your navigator. I don't trust his abilities,' he said whilst eating curried chicken and rice.

'He's done fine so far!' said Steve defending his friend.

'Look at him in the FarEast. He's never been there!'

But initially Imran appeared wrong. The Maurice journeyed in pleasant conditions. The sea was mostly fair and quite warm. It chugged on in the warm Indian ocean, were Steve had never been, not even in the Nineties. There was one storm where the sea became very stormy and Steve was rather sick over the railings, but he was no different than the rest of the crew. For about a week, the Maurice sailed on in this manner then one day he saw Nathan spending the whole day looking anxious and pouring over his charts. This concerned Steve or should have done.

Steve saw a meeting of the crew and asked, 'What 's up?'

'Do you want to know the bad news or the really bad new?' replied Bert, an old experienced hand of the sea. Steve looked at him anxiously. 'The bad news is that we are lost. Turns out Nathan here doesn't know this part of the world very well. We were not quite where he thought we were. A few hundred miles to the north, actually!'

'Then what's the really bad news?'

'The really bad news is that is that if you look on the horizon you will see some ships.' Steve did so. 'They are Japanese! You can see the Japanese flag on them. We don't know if they are interested in us, but we will have to avoid them,' The Japanese were behind Maurice as it happened, so to do so they had to sneak onwoods.

A meeting was held as to what to do now. The Maurice was in need of re-fuelling anyway, so the Captain decided to make for a civilian port. 'Singapore is best and nearest as far as I can tell,' advised Nathan, looking at the charts and scratching his head. The name Singapore rang a bell to Steve but nothing precise. Unfortunately, the crew had not been keeping up,to date with recent wartime news, or they would have known that Singapore had just fallen to the Japanese!

Maurice travelled on on the Far East seas, and finally, Steve could make out the port of Singapore on the horizon through his Binoculars. Also, some ships. Steve looked at them, to see the re-assauring flag of the Royal Navy. He did see some flags. Japanese flags! He then heard Harry, on the Radio, calling, 'We have a signal. It's Japanese, coming from that cruiser behind us.' Overhead, a plane flew. A Japanese one! The Japanese at then were pretty ruthless to their enemies. The Captain doubted if the Japanese would make disrinctions between the civilian and the military. And even if they did, Steve didn't fancy his chances of survival as a Japanese POW. They were correct on both counts

Steve thought he was scared before, but that was nothing compared to the utter panic he felt now. And rage. 'I only wanted to play a few decent old songs to impress wartime London, and here I am in the middle of the Japanese Navy! This never happened to Gary!' Steve wasn't alone in feeling terror, however. None of the other crew wanted to be in this spot and many others were panicking. 'Why don't we pretend we are American?, Steve suggested which was rather a stupid thing to say. Of course, Japan was probably more at war with the USA than anywhere else.

The Captain now took a hand. He was a dour Scot who tolerated no nonsense, but Steve would later admit that he probably was the right person for this situation. He shot a gun into the air. 'Right all of yours useless lot, up and pay attention. We are in a bit of a mess. If we are to survive, we have to show discipline, courage and some basic common sense. There is s shore less than a mile away. We'll have to make for that. And you,' he signalled out Steve personally as the new crew member. 'I am just about sick of your constant whining and snivelling. Who do you think you are, Neville bloody Chamberlain? Your not the only person on this ship suffering. If you don't get some backbone you spineless wretch, you has better hope the Japanese get to you before I do!' Captain Ferguson obviously didn't know that Steve was from the nineties, but wouldn't have been impressed with Nineties manhood if he had been.

The odd thing was, Steve thought, the Skipper did sound like he meant it. At least, he wasn't going to test Captain Ferguson. But he hadn't used a single swear word. If someone from modern times had threatened him with less severity he would have used many swear words. Which just again served to show how language changed over the decades.

Anyway, the Maurice sped for the shore, using the last drops of its fuel. But the Japanese were aware of them. Shells fell around the Maurice and one hit the ship causing fire and explosions The Maurice started sinking only metres short of the shore. But Steve had to abandon ship before been roasted and make for the shore in the water. He even saw some sharks in the sea and bullets from the Japanese ships whizzed around him. He wasn't the greatest of swimmers but he managed to just about stay afloat. Wondering if he was going to be shot, eaten, burned or drowned, he made it to the shore.

8 men emerged from the sea, wet, cold, tired and frightened. The Captain ordered them to run to cover. In doing so, Steve banged his knee horribly on a rock, causing a nasty cut which in the Nineties would have caused him to make a fuss but here he said nothing and endured it. Behind him Maurice was hit and exploded in flames of red and yellow and smoke. The men gathered behind a bush.

Ahead was a path, but the Captain, who did have some experience of warfare advised them not to go to it in case of Japanese snipers. They had managed to bring enough rifles for everyone and a modest supply of bullets from the ship before it was destroyed. Steve was given one which he accepted with a look of fear on his face. It turned out the Captain's advice was good. Along the path, two British soldiers came running. But they didn't get far before, crack, crack and both fell dead, shot by a sniper in the trees.

This was Steve's first sight of death and he paled in fear. But Ferguson growled, 'we'd best wait till dark out of Sniper range. Then decide what to do.' Some provisions had been saved such as rice and Stuart a crew-member produced some beef sauce so some kind of meal was had. Still, recent events caused Steve to shake with terror. He began to sweat, it was hot. He suddenly realized he hadn't taken any tablets or anything. The possibility of geting maleria added to his fears.

Leeches sucking at his ankles were another source of discomfort. 'Makes for good food they do,' said Bert who could cook, but this fact did little to re-assure Steve. Looking bitterly at the jungle as night fell, how he wished that he was in the woods in the park near to his home back in North London. Or should that be forward to his home in North London gven the time difference? Frankly, Steve was in no mood to think about the gramatical nature of time travel!

But there was now some discussion about what to do. Without the ship, progress was going to be slow. Some suggested nipping to the port and trying to take a boat and make for a safe port such as Australia, possibly the nearest one with the Japs now on control of much of the Pacific. But such a course of action was fraught with peril. The port was under Japanese control as was the nearby seas for hundreds of miles.

The only other option was to walk slowly through the Japanese controlled no matter how long it took. A desperate enough venture, but what else could they do to avoid capture and life as a japanese POW? Steve knew that it was even more desperate than that. His geography of the world at that time was hazy, but he now remembered that the Japanese were probably in control of much of the country up to India. They would have had to march across hundreds of miles in these wretched conditions.

So, through the night, they travelled eastwoods. Or at least where Nathan, the only person who knew anything about the geography, which was desperate enough as it was. They marched through the night without pause to take advantage of night cover and after a brief, in Steve's opinion anyway, sleep were off again to sneak through in daylight of little daylight would break through the forest.

But the going was slow. Through narrow paths, up and downhill with vegetation, leeches and mud getting under Steve's feet. Flocks of birds sometimes flew out of the trees and the incessant noise of insects chirping. There was the odd signs of battle such as discarded vehicles, some Japanese soldiers marching or the odd whoop of explosions or sound of gunfire. Food was beginning to run low as Captain Ferguson pointed out. 'Not to worry,' said Bert with rather unreasonable cheerfulness, 'I am a dab hand at getting grub in the jungles, I've been here before. I'll forage something.' And indeed he did. If one liked Ants. Or Beatles. Or literally grubs. Didn't improve Steve's mood any.

Then that evening one crew member, Bill, said 'are we going east?'

'That is the idea, yes,' growled Captain Ferguson in Scotch tones.

'Because we aren't. I just noticed the sunset. It is ahead of us. Which surely means we were going west. Further into Japanese controlled territory.' So they had been travelling a day and night in precisely the wrong direction. Steve groaned.

'Why, why, oh why did I ever come to 1942?' thought he! Progress even in the right direction was very slow and winding mostly in the dark. It was also tiring and the bug diet was starting to get on Steve's nerves. They travelled on in this manner for a few days and night, though Steve was beginning to lose track of the days. They did occasionally pass some locals, though in general they kept out of the way, not trusting whos side they might be on.

Then Fred gave a shout. They had come to a clearing. On the border of it were the corpses of several beheaded British soldiers. The scene of an execution. Steve felt slightly sick. It didn't look like the Japanese were taking prisoners. Moving away from this grizzly place, the crew finally found some living fellow Brits. A squad of around 40. However, pleased as they were to see friendly faces in jungle uniform and to get any information, this information did not make for pleasant news.

The Japanese were in control of the whole country for hundreds of miles and the British scattered, dead, captured or in full retreat. Not retreating, full scale running! If Steve ever thought that the English never ran he was in for a rude awakening. But the main force of the British or British Empire forces were far away to the south or east. Strong Japanese troops were much closer.

After the conversation and a bit more journeying, they bumped into some Japanese soldiers. Not many, but the Japanese became aware of them. Some shot at the party, behind trees. The British fired back and in instance the Japanese pulled back. But some of their shots had hit the target. One of which was Steve. He was shot in the leg causing pain the likes of which he had ever felt in his life. 'Shot, shot, shot, I've been shot,' he cried with a great curse.

The Captain took a moment to check him out. 'Only flesh wound, wish I hadn't bothered to look now, stop crying and mind your language,' he growled with little sympathy.

Still, that following night was just about the worse Steve could ever remember. In pain from his wound, in terror of the Japanese, Maleria, hungry, tired but unable to sleep, listening to all the sounds of wildlife around him and quietly sobbing, he was now developing manflu which back home would have meant a week off work. Here it could just earn him death. Been a bit ill also reminded him of the perils of maleria. Now a large, hairy spider landed on his shoulder. The least of his problems, though he was worried by many of the poisonous creatures he could come across. Bert came and put his arm around his shoulder.

'You should stop sobbing quite so much. You could bring the Japs upon us!'

'I am here in a jungle having shot. In 1942! And I can't even swear properly I'm sorry, I just wasn't prepared for this!'

'Yes, well, name someone amongst who is. Why do you think you're so special?' naturally Steve couldn't answer this! 'None of us want to be in this situation. We are all hurt to. Take me. I'm nearly sixty. I thought I would reach retirement soon. My legs have been bitten by something nasty, it always was a bit dodgy, I never intended to be here dodging the Japs. All of us have cuts, bruises, strains, poor Nathan has busted ribs in case you had forgotten It's not just you, you know. I came this way on peacetime, 5 years ago. I met several Japanese on business. Nice enough people, I thought. I didn't ever think I wpild be running for my life from them,' which, Steve agreed put matters in some perspective.

'What was that, I think I heard something mechanical,' Steve whispered and he and Bert decided to quietly investigate. 'I think it was through these trees,' he suggested and the jungle slopped downwards. 'Wooh,' declared he. They had come to a high cliff. Hundreds of metres below was a large clearing with grass, woodland and a river running through. And Japanese soldiers. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. With tanks, large guns, boats even an aeroplane overhead. 'Suppose we had better go back and tell the others about this,'he whispered to Bert.

The two were watching trough some trees. Then Bert slipped. He was dangling behind a tree desperately clinging on to it to avoid dropping down. He began to fall, when Steve hurried to Bert and grabbed on to him , for a few moments in the view of the Japanese below. Seve dragged Bert back, saving his fall, just as the Japanese spotted them and fired up, narrowly missing. 'Thanks, glad you came with us after all,' said Bert slapping Steve's back.