Torrance: Blitz in Malaya by Jonathan Lunn

Author:Jonathan Lunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
Published: 2019-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Torrance and his companions retreated into the kitchens. He peered through one of the portholes in the double doors, craning his head for a glimpse of Japanese soldiers entering the dining room. He could not see them yet, but he could hear an NCO barking orders somewhere.

‘Back door?’ he asked.

‘Aye, this way.’ Rossi led them between the cooking ranges, into a utilitarian corridor and then outside to where they startled a troop of monkeys picking over the contents of an overturned rubbish bin. The animals scattered into a patch of scrub at the back of the hotel, shrieking and hooting. Torrance was so startled that he had levelled his Thompson and almost squeezed the trigger before he realised they were only monkeys.

Using some hibiscus bushes for cover, they made their way around the side of the hotel to where they could see the tanks parked on the street in front.

‘How do we get past that lot?’ asked Kerr.

‘We go round them,’ said Sheridan. ‘Across the road and over the railway tracks. There’s another road to the south on the other side.’

‘I’ll go first,’ said Torrance. ‘The rest of you, wait for my signal.’ He broke from cover, dashing across the north-bound lane of the dual carriageway and ducking down behind some rose bushes growing in the middle of the grassy central reservation. The nearest tank was only fifty yards away, but the commander squatting on the turret was more interested in having a conversation with an infantry officer.

Torrance beckoned the others. Bent double, they dashed across to join him behind the rose bushes, ducking down as a section of infantrymen doubled past, havelocks flapping. Once the patter of their crêpe-soled boots on the tarmac had faded into the night, Torrance raised his head cautiously, made sure no one else was looking in his direction, then threaded his way through the bushes, dashing across the road to take cover in the shadows of one of the arches at the south end of the railway station. He stepped out into the moonlight to signal for the others to follow him, then withdrew into the shadows again.

When they joined him, he set off once more, vaulting over a low white fence and dashing across a greensward beneath a row of palm trees. Reaching the south end of the engine shed, he slithered down a grassy embankment between the shed and a linesmen’s hut, where a wire fence – not even barbed – was the only thing separating him from the end of the platform. The others joined him. Here at the foot of the embankment, at least, they were hidden from the view of the soldiers on Victoria Avenue, as long as they kept their heads down. One after another, they scrambled over the fence on to the platform.

‘Nearly made it,’ said Torrance. ‘Now all we have to do is—’

He broke off as a sustained, eldritch squealing approached. Glancing into the shadows of the engine shed, he saw a pair of headlights approaching along the railway line.

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