Chapter Seven – Biggles Gets Cracking
Biggles and Ginger walked towards the small sand dune separating the beach from the tree-line they could see a short distance in front of them. As they topped the dune, Bertie burst from the trees with an aboriginal man on his heels.
"What ho, old top! You found me!" exclaimed Bertie as the two groups met. "Here, let me introduce you to Tom. We've got a lot to tell you, old bean. Just you hold on to your hat because you aren't going to believe what I've got to say. No, by jove, not half you aren't!"
"Bertie," sighed Biggles with a touch of exasperation, "I'm pleased that you're all right. But slow down and start at the beginning." Biggles held his hand out and shook Tom's hand as Bertie introduced them. "Pleased to meet you. Thanks for looking after our friend," he smiled.
"No trouble," smiled Tom in return. He nodded towards Bertie's aircraft. "You gonna be able to fix it for him? We've got some stuff to tell you first."
If Biggles felt any surprise at the man's quiet air of authority, he hid it well.
"Suppose you give us the gen on what happened to you, Bertie. Then we'll take a closer look at your Beau before deciding what to do. I need to get back to base or Algy'll be out looking next. You know what he's like. He'll have the whole squadron on alert if we're not back when he thinks we should be."
They stood under the shade of the trees as Bertie told of his adventures that morning.
"So you see, old boy, Tom and I were on our way back to tell the other chaps that these other white fellas down the coast are NOT the good guys, if you know what I mean, when we heard you jolly well tootling in and so we thought we'd come and meet you. So here we all are. Jolly good show, if you ask me anything," Bertie finally wound down. "So, old warrior, you're here now. What do you want to do?" he added into the silence that had greeted his tale.
Biggles looked at Tom thoughtfully.
"What's the situation here? Are your people in a position to round anyone up who escapes if we bomb this base?"
"No worries about that, mate," laughed Tom. "We can round them up all right, but we might have a bit of bother keeping them till we can hand them over. We're totally cut off. Can't get any messages out and not getting any in right now. I don't think the Government's gonna be too bothered about us with everything else that's goin' on right now."
"Well, I can do something about the communications issue," replied Biggles. "I want to have a look at this submarine you're talking about. Bertie, you and Ginger have a dekko at your engines and see if you can find the problem. Tom, can you take me back to the place you're talking about?"
"Yep, no worries," he responded. "Just need to let the others know what's goin' on. Better introduce you two new blokes, too."
The local formalities having been observed, and having also been introduced to the mission superintendent, a Rev Les Barnes, Biggles decided to dispatch Bertie back to Handy Cay to bring Algy up to speed on events while Ginger was ordered to see what could be done about the engines on the grounded Beaufighter. Biggles instructed Bertie to return with one of Smyth's men to take over from Ginger and another Beaufighter to provide enough seats for the pilots to all return to base.
"Tell Algy, he's to let Ken Mortensen know what's going on immediately and that I'll be in touch as soon as I get back. Oh, and tell Algy he's to stay on Handy Cay, in command, till I return. He can send Ferocity back with the other Beau," ordered Biggles.
"Algy won't be too happy with that, old boy. He'll think you're grounding him," objected Bertie.
"Algy can think what he likes," retorted Biggles. "They're my orders. Your job is to relay them. Now get cracking while we've still got enough daylight left to do everything."
Bertie and Ginger exchanged amused glances which Biggles pretended not to see. He and Tom departed towards the south and Bertie and Ginger walked back to the beach, accompanied by Barnes and a teenage boy whose smile at seeing the aircraft so close threatened to break his face.
As Biggles and Tom headed south, keeping under the cover of the trees, they heard the sound of Bertie departing in the serviceable Beaufighter. Biggles was less than happy at the present situation as he didn't like having so many loose ends left for others to tidy up. Still, he reflected, Algy would look after his end the way Biggles himself would. At least, as long as he chose to obey Biggles' orders and remain on the island in command, he could be relied on to do things in a manner that would meet Biggles' approval. Unfortunately, Biggles was not completely confident that his cousin would remain on Handy Cay, despite receiving orders to do so. Sometimes, he thought, Algy showed just too much initiative. He smiled at his thoughts. He knew exactly how lucky he was to have a 2 I-C who could anticipate his every move and upon whom he could rely totally. Biggles wouldn't have it any other way.
When Tom indicated they had arrived, he dropped to the ground and together they worked their way forward until Biggles was gazing down at the sight Bertie had seen some hours earlier. His eyes narrowed as he took in the activity. The small launch that Bertie had earlier noted tied to the end of the jetty was coming back from the U-boat. Along the jetty was a line of men, obviously sailors by their uniforms. Biggles' lips tightened as he realised the submarine was being prepared for departure. He looked at his watch. He could not expect any aircraft back from Handy Cay for at least another hour and he didn't like the chances of the submarine still being there by then, not that he could do much about it even then. He would need bombs which meant another return trip of at least two hours. In three hours the tropical night would have well and truly fallen. He knew he had been pushing it with his plans to get everyone back to the island base by nightfall as it was, even if that had meant leaving Bertie's Beaufighter on the beach for the night. Now he had the additional concern of the possibility of the stranded fighter being seen by the crew of the passing submarine if it remained unsubmerged, for tonight would be a full moon.
"Let's go," he murmured to Tom and the two headed silently back towards the settlement. There was little talking on the return trip. They were moving too quickly for easy conversation and Biggles needed time to think and formulate possible plans. An hour later, as they were nearing the settlement, the sound of rapidly approaching aero engines shattered the late afternoon silence. Biggles looked towards the coast and broke into a run.
"They're Zeros!" he shouted, running flat out.
As he and Tom broke from the trees three Zeroes screamed across the beach, guns chattering as their deadly hail of bullets kicked up sand and struck the stranded Beaufighter. Ginger, Barnes and the teenage boy were bent double, running flat out for the cover of the trees. They had nearly reached them when the boy stumbled and fell.
Ginger and Barnes hauled him back to his feet and half carried, half dragged the boy across the sand between them. Tom had run forward and, scooping the injured teenager up in his arms, ran back towards the trees as the bullets kicked up the sand around him. The noise of aircraft increased further as two Beaufighters screamed down towards the attackers who were forced to leave their helpless prey on the beach and defend themselves. The battle was fast and furious and it was not long before the three Japanese fighters pulled out of the fray and screamed off towards the north-west. One Beaufighter landed smoothly on the beach while the other continued circling above.
While the others tended to the boy, Biggles ran down to meet the pilot. He was not completely surprised when Algy stepped down and removed his helmet.
"I thought I gave you orders to remain in charge."
"Hold on, Biggles. I've an important message from Ken."
"Which you could have sent back with Bertie," Biggles pointed out reasonably, raising an enquiring eyebrow.
"Well, Bertie's been on the go since early morning and, as Acting CO, I grounded him and left him in command. He can do with the rest."
The two stared at one another. Then Biggles sighed.
"You know, as I've said before, it'd be a lot more helpful if you'd at least pretend to take my orders seriously. I have to make some sort of show with the others."
"I do take your orders seriously, Biggles, old chap. You know that. It's all a matter of interpretation," grinned Algy. "Do you want to put me on report? I could stand guard duty down by the lagoon for the next few days."
Biggles laughed and shook his head.
"What did Ken have to say that was important enough to have you fly out yourself?"
"He wants this U-boat base completely destroyed. Top priority. Higher than the planned bombing run over Lae. I didn't sling any mouldies on either of the Beaus because I thought you might want to get everyone back to base first."
Biggles nodded and stood staring out to sea. The evening sky was changing rapidly behind him and he knew it would be dark before they could even hope to reach Handy Cay, let alone return on a bombing raid.
"The sub's ready to leave right now," he said. "We can destroy the base, but we need to get the U-boat as well or it'll be free to wreck havoc around here."
"Damn cheek on their part," remarked Algy. "Setting up a base on the very shores of the Australian mainland itself."
"As Ken pointed out, one of the big headaches for Australia right now is all these unprotected thousands of miles of coast – particularly up here in the north. Standing here nattering isn't going to solve the problem. Let's go back and have a word with the locals."
The two walked quickly up to where Barnes and Ginger had administered rudimentary first aid to the teenager who had been struck in the lower leg, which was now wrapped in Barnes' handkerchief.
Biggles introduced Algy to Tom and Barnes and all shook hands.
"He needs to have the bullet removed," commented Ginger as Biggles asked how the boy was.
"We can look after that," Barnes assured them. "He'll be fine. He's a good kid. What are your plans now?"
Biggles looked at both the local men consideringly.
"Firstly, if we were to come over in, say, two–two and a half hours' time, would you be able to have someone in position to put up a torch light to help us home in on the target? We'll find our way here okay, but I don't want to waste our bombs. I need to wipe this base out on the first strike. Secondly, can you manage to hold any prisoners safe until the authorities send someone to take charge of them?"
Barnes and Tom exchanged glances and Tom spoke, "We can do that. You go get your bombs and we'll do the rest."
"Do you have a torch for signalling?" asked Biggles.
Barnes nodded. "I always keep a supply of torches. No electricity out here yet, mate. In case you hadn't noticed, we're about a million miles from nowhere."
"All right. Let's get cracking, chaps. Ginger, you can go with Algy. Algy, get Ferocity down here after you get topsides and I'll follow with him." Biggles turned back to Barnes. "One other thing. I'll drop a message for you to bring you up to date on what'll happen with any prisoners as soon as I receive word. One of my boys will fly over and drop it on the beach as soon as we can."
"Thanks," said Barnes simply, holding out his hand. As the men shook hands all round, Tom looked at Biggles.
"We won't let you down," he said quietly as he shook the Squadron Leader's hand.
"No. I'm sure you won't, Tom," smiled Biggles. With that, the airmen turned back to the beach and Algy and Ginger roared into the air. Biggles stood waiting for Ferocity to land, still thinking about the enemy submarine that would again be prowling these waters. To have found its base but be denied the opportunity of destroying the submarine itself was particularly galling. But he could not change what had happened and did not waste time wishing he could. Instead, his nimble brain was already planning the coming raid and contemplating ways in which the squadron could deal with the submarine threat over coming days.
When the two fighters landed back on Handy Cay, Biggles wasted no time, pausing only long enough for his pilots to have a quick evening meal. Orders were given and soon three Beaufighters, carrying two bombs apiece, and two Spitfires were lined up ready for take-off. Biggles, to Bertie's dismay, waved his "B" Flight commander's protestations aside and declared that Bertie would remain in charge of the base until they returned.
"It's a bit hard, old boy. Yes, by Jove. A bit hard," he murmured sorrowfully as he watched the airmen preparing for the mission.
"Never mind," returned Biggles somewhat unsympathetically, "who knows what action you might have here while we're gone? Just make sure the remaining aircraft and our people are kept safe and I'll be happy. I might even let you go find some Zeroes to play with tomorrow."
Bertie polished his monocle and regarded Biggles.
"Far be it for me to question the CO's orders," he muttered disconsolately, glancing at Algy.
"You've had quite a bit of action already, today. I should think you'd be happy to take it easy," grinned Algy.
"Easy for you to say, old boy," retorted Bertie. "Not everyone can get away with creative interpretation of orders."
Biggles glanced from one man to the other. "This isn't a debate, Bertie. I've given you your orders. Just carry them out." He lessened any sting that his words might have carried with a lopsided grin. "Sometimes you've just got to do what you've got to do." He dropped his cigarette butt to the ground and carefully extinguished it with his heel. "I've said it before, and I'm saying it again. You know you chaps could make my life a whole lot easier if you simply obeyed orders without putting your own personal spin on them, don't you?"
"That'd be awfully boring for you, chum," retorted Algy cheerfully.
Biggles laughed. "Round up the troops, Algy, old son. We need to get mobile."
Bertie looked thoughtfully at Biggles' departing back. "Is the old Biggles a bit touchy tonight?"
"He's worried about that U-boat on the loose in these waters. We'll get the base, but the sub's pretty certain to escape. Probably already gone by now - and there's a good bit of Aussie shipping between here and Darwin," Algy smiled wryly. "You know Biggles. He's taking personal responsibility for that sub and won't rest till it's out of action. Be a good boy and look after things, Bertie. Biggles'll be okay."
A short while later, he took up his position at Biggles' right wing tip as the formation headed west into the evening sky. As usual, Ginger flew on Biggles' left. The three bomb-laden Beaufighters were escorted by Angus and Taffy in the Spitfires both of whom were climbing higher to provide protective cover. Biggles had invited Ted Edgars to accompany him in the second cockpit, but, despite the clamour from his remaining pilots to occupy the vacant seats in Algy's and Ginger's machines, he had left Ferocity, Henry, Tex and Tug standing disappointedly by the airstrip. Biggles was well aware of the dangers of the mission they were undertaking, and not being predisposed to put all his eggs in one basket, was disinclined to risk pilots unnecessarily.
The aircraft droned through the clear tropical night, taking a westward course to the tip of the Northern Territory where Bertie had landed his machine earlier that day. As they turned southwards, Biggles had everyone watching for the pre-arranged torch signal. It was with considerable relief that he finally saw the thin beam of light cut up into the night sky, for he had been by no means certain that his hastily laid plans would be able to be carried out. The Spitfires kept a vigilant watch above as the three Beaus lined up and commenced their bombing run. First Biggles, then Ginger, and lastly Algy, screamed low across the now not-secret German U-boat base, dropped their missiles and pulled up and away from the inferno erupting below. That they had caught the enemy unawares was evident in the lack of even the most rudimentary of defence. Biggles smiled grimly as they turned back over the waters of the Gulf and circled until the pre-arranged all-clear signal was flashed from below. He turned for home, and watched as the other Beaufighters fell in beside him. Looking above and around, he finally saw the Spitfires above and behind them and settled down for the flight home. Although he hadn't anticipated any opposition to their raid, he was aware of a strange feeling of anti-climax. They had destroyed the base and the local people would doubtless round up any prisoners, effectively putting a stop to this particular incursion into the Australian mainland. But he was sure the U-boat had escaped.
The aircraft had an uneventful return to their island base and were greeted by Bertie and the remaining pilots of 666 as they rolled to a stop and allowed the ground staff to push the machines under cover. The full tropical moon, now well above the eastern horizon, was casting its light across the water and the small island base.
'It's been quite a day for our first full day of ops," observed Algy as he, Ginger and Biggles led the way to the Mess while the flares lighting the strip were quickly extinguished amongst the quiet efficiency of well-trained crew carrying out their duties.
"I'd be a lot happier if we'd been able to nail that sub," commented Biggles discontentedly. "I'll have to let Townsville know what the status is. I guess young Roy's still up and waiting."
"I'll look after that if you give me your report," offered Edgars. "I'll go and see if he's in the radio hut now."
"Thanks, Ted, "Biggles nodded. "I'll come with you."
"Is it just me," murmured Ginger to Algy as the other two men headed off, "or is Biggles keeping a bit of a close eye on Sergeant Edgars?"
"Edgars is a bit of a dark horse," returned Algy casually.
"What, with his family connections?" scoffed Ginger. "Don't be daft."
"Why did you ask, if you don't like my answer?"
"Because I expected something sensible, not a dippy comment like that!"
"Well, what do you think?" retorted Algy with some exasperation. He knew Ginger was unaware of Biggles' reservations about the Australian sergeant and the conversation the three had had on Saturday evening. Until Biggles chose to share that with their younger comrade, Algy would keep his own thoughts private.
"I think Ted Edgars is a nice bloke. His father must be something of a right tartar, though, and I don't blame him for striking out on his own. Bet they had a few barneys when he was growing up! I just don't understand why Biggles seems to want to keep an eye on him all the time."
"Hardly all the time," laughed Algy easily. "He's a bit of an unknown quantity and he's also the liaison between Biggles and the RAAF Higher Command people."
"Yes. Strange that, don't you think?"
"Don't I think what? Ginger, if you've got a point to make, for goodness' sake just say it!"
"Well, that an army sergeant would be acting as liaison between the Squadron and the RAAF people. He's not Air Force after all."
"Is that what's bothering you?" Algy smiled sympathetically. "Do you think Biggles has been a bit slighted by not having an RAAF officer as the liaison person?"
"Well, Ken Mortensen knows what you and Biggles have done and it just seems a bit off-hand…" began Ginger hotly.
"All right. Settle down," interrupted Algy. "You said yourself that Ted's family connections are quite something. His father's one of the Army's top brass, his uncle's an AVM, his future brother-in-law's a Grouper and goodness knows what the rest of the family are! He could just as easily be RAAF as Army, you know. And, between you and me, he's been offered a commission and flatly refuses to accept one. Although that could be just to annoy his father, I suspect. But he probably knows this area better than most of the RAAF types they could spare right now. Don't worry about it, laddie. Biggles and Ted hit it off quite well, so don't feel slighted on Biggles' behalf."
Algy smiled at the younger man, resisting the temptation to reach out and give a brotherly ruffle to the sandy hair that Ginger still had difficulty taming.
"Come on, let's have a drink. Biggles'll want to talk to everyone before we turn in."