"We'd have to place them fairly deep," said Warden. "The water might be clear on the day of the attack."
He had done all the necessary groundwork. For over two hours he had sounded the piles, measuring them with a piece of string, calculating the gaps between them, making a note of the ones which would cause the most damage if destroyed, engraving in his mind every detail which might be of use in the plan of attack. On two occasions he had heard heavy steps above his head. A Japanese sentry was patrolling the platform. He had crouched against a pile and waited. The Jap had vaguely swept the river with an electric torch.
"Our only worry while we're approaching the target, sir, is if they light a lamp. But once we're under the bridge you can hear them coming a long way off. The sound of their footsteps is magnified by the water. That gives us plenty of time to make for one of the central piles."
"Is the river deep?" asked Shears.
"Over six feet, sir. I dived to the bottom."
"How would you set about it?"
"Here's my idea, sir. I don't think we can rely on an automatically detonated fog signal. We couldn't camouflage the charges. The whole works will have to be underwater. A long piece of electric wire running along the river bed and coming out on the bank—the right bank, sir, where it would be hidden by the undergrowth. I've found the ideal spot for that—a strip of virgin jungle where a man could easily lie up and wait. And there's a good view of the platform through a gap in the trees."
"Why the right bank?" Shears broke in with a frown. "That's the side where the camp is, unless I've got it all wrong. Why not the opposite bank, by the hill? It's covered with thick undergrowth, according to your report, and it would obviously be our line of withdrawal."
"That's quite true, sir. But just have another look at the map. After this wide bend here, the railway winds right around the hill after passing the bridge and then comes downstream along the river. The jungle's been cleared between the line and the bank, and the ground's quite open. There's not enough cover in daylight. You'd have to lie up much further back, on the other side of the embankment at the foot of the hill. That would need too much wire, sir, and it couldn't be camouflaged where it crosses the line, at least not without a great deal of trouble."
"I'm not too keen on the idea," said Number One. "Why not the left bank, but upstream from the bridge?"
"The bank's too high, sir, there's a steep cliff. And further up still there's that small native village. I went and had a look. I crossed the river again, and then the li
ne. I made a slight detour to keep under cover and came back upstream from the bridge. It can't be done, sir. The only decent spot is on the right bank!"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Warden. "You must have spent the whole night wandering around the bridge."
"Just about. But I was back in the jungle by first light and reached the observation post early in the morning."
"And what's your plan for the chap who has to lie up on the right bank?" asked Shears. "How does he manage to get away?"
"It wouldn't take a good swimmer more than three minutes to get across. That's how long it took me, sir; and the explosion would distract the Japs' attention. I think a rear party posted at the foot of the hill could cover his withdrawal. Once he's across the bit of open ground and on this side of the line, he's safe. A search party would never catch up with him in that jungle. I'm sure that's the best plan."
Shears thought deeply for a long time as he studied Joyce's map.
"It's a plan worth considering," he finally announced. "Now that you've seen the spot for yourself, of course, you're in a position to tell us what you think of it. And the result will be worth taking a risk. What else did you see from your eyrie?"
16
The sun was well up by the time he had reached the top of the hill. His two guides, who had come back during the night, were anxiously waiting for him. He was worn out. He had lain down to rest for an hour, and had not awakened till the evening. He apologized when he mentioned this lapse on his part.
"Right. I suppose you slept again during the night? That was the best thing to do. And then next morning you went back to the spot you had chosen?"
"Yes, sir. I stayed on a day longer. There was still quite a lot I wanted to see."
After devoting the first part of his reconnaissance to lifeless objects, he had felt an urge to look at living men. Until then he had been spellbound by the bridge and by the features in the landscape with which his future activity was now closely linked, but suddenly he had felt overwhelmed by the sight of his wretched comrades, whom he could see in the lens of his binoculars, reduced to an abject state of serfdom. He knew what Japanese methods were like in P.O.W. camps. There were stacks of secret reports describing the daily atrocities committed by the exultant enemy.
"Did you see anything unpleasant?" Shears asked him.
"No, sir; not that particular day. But I felt completely shattered at the thought that they had been working like this for months, in this climate, with not enough to eat, rotten huts to live in, no comfort at all, and the constant threat of—well, you can imagine what sort of punishment."
He had observed each of the teams one after the other. He had scrutinized each individual through his glasses and had been horrified by the state they were in. Number One frowned as he said:
"In our job you can't afford to be too soft-hearted, Joyce."
"I realize that, sir. But really, they're nothing but skin and bone. Most of them are covered with ulcers and jungle sores. Some of them can hardly walk. No civilized person would even think of making men work in such a crippled state. You ought to see them, sir. It's enough to make you weep. The team pulling the rope to drive in the last few piles—absolute skeletons, sir. I've never seen such a ghastly sight. It's utterly criminal."
"Don't worry," said Shears, "we'll soon get our own back."
"Yet I couldn't help admiring them, sir. In spite of their obvious physical hardships, not one of them seemed really beaten. I had a good look at them. They make it a point of honor to behave as though their guards weren't there—that's exactly the impression I had. They behave as though the Japs just didn't exist. They're at work from dawn till dusk, and they've been at it like this for months, probably without a single day's rest. But they didn't look as though they'd lost hope. In spite of their ludicrous dress, in spite of their terrible physical condition, they couldn't be taken for slaves, sir. I could see the expression on their faces."