Strike from the Sea (1978) by Reeman Douglas

Author:Reeman, Douglas [Reeman, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: WWII/Navel/Fiction
Published: 2012-08-30T23:00:00+00:00

10

Nobody Lives Forever

AINSLIE AWOKE WITH a violent shudder, his mind reluctant to accept he had been asleep, or that he had given in to his exhaustion. As he gripped the sides of his bunk he saw Quinton peering down at him, with another figure, Sub-Lieutenant Southby, hovering in the rectangle of light from the passageway.

‘What is it?’ Ainslie fumbled with his watch, seeing his untouched food by the bunk, realizing he must have fallen asleep even as he had rejected it.

‘Sorry to bother you, sir.’ Quinton stepped back as Ainslie lurched from the bunk. ‘Just had a shout from the Army. The Japs are attacking in depth. It doesn’t sound too bright.’

Ainslie stared at himself in the bulkhead mirror, seeing the wildness in his eyes, remembering with startling clarity that he had been dreaming when Quinton had touched his shoulder. Of a beach, of the girl, dressed in that same long dress, her bare feet on the hard, wet sand. There had been danger. Terrible but unseen. He had tried to reach her, to warn her, but the words had been choked, his mouth filled with sand.

He steadied his racing thoughts and asked, ‘Are our people on board?’ How could he have fallen asleep? Tiredness, despair made suddenly sharper by the memory of Critchley’s death put an edge to his voice. ‘For God’s sake, you should have called me!’

Quinton stood his ground. ‘We need you to be rested, sir. Any fool can run cargo.’ He watched Ainslie’s mixed emotions. ‘I’ve finished unloading. The Army are bringing their wounded aboard now. It’s about all we can do.’

Quinton’s quiet resignation helped more than anything. Ainslie was suddenly aware of the sounds, muffled by the hull, but still filled with menace. The unbroken rumble of gunfire, the decks quivering occasionally as a shell fell close to the inlet.

It was noon. Incredibly, Ainslie had slept for four hours. He said, ‘We should stick it out until dusk. After that . . .’ He did not finish.

He tucked his shirt into his trousers again and pushed the hair from his forehead. For a few moments he looked at his cap, lying on the desk. He thought of the little girl’s face in Singapore. The nurse, wary and hostile, ready to rush in and protect her charge from comment.

‘I’ll go ashore. Tell the Chief to be prepared to get under way. He knows already, but tell him anyway.’

Ainslie looked at Southby. In the dim lighting he was a boy, determined but unable to conceal his anxiety.

‘Come with me, Sub. We’ll see the colonel.’

After the false shade on the conning tower with its camouflage netting and layers of palm fronds, the heat on the steel casing was almost unbearable.

The humid air was heavy with other smells, too. Burning, charred wood and cordite.

He stepped ashore, where Petty Officer Voysey and some seamen crouched or lay by the small brow, ready to cast off, to run, to to die if things went wrong.

Ainslie strode past them, Southby walking in his shadow.

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