PART TWO

Chapter 1

In Calcutta Colonel Green, commanding Force 316, was

studying a report which had just come in by the usual
roundabout route, a report embellished with the marginal
comments of half a dozen military and paramilitary
clandestine services. Force 316 (better known as "The
Plastic and Destructions Co., Ltd.") had not yet reached
the important position that it later held in the Far East, but it
was already taking an active, passionate and exclusive
interest in Japanese war establishment in the occupied
countries of Malaya, Burma, Siam and China. What it
lacked in material resources, it tried to make up for by the
boldness and dash of its agents.

"Well, it's the first time I've ever known them all to agree,"
Colonel Green muttered. "We ought to do something about
it."

The first part of his remark referred to the various

clandestine services associated with Force 316, each
working in a separate watertight compartment and pursuing
an individual policy of its own, with the result that they often
came to widely different conclusions. This used to infuriate
Colonel Green, who was responsible for planning
operations from all the intelligence available. "Ops" was the
preserve of Force 316; Colonel Green was not interested in
theoretical discussion except in so far as it affected his own
line of action. His staff were quite familiar with his views on
the matter since he expressed them at least once a day. A
large part of his time was spent in trying to sift the truth from
these reports, taking into account not only the information
itself but also the psychological make-up of the various
sources (optimism or pessimism, tendency to exaggerate
the facts or, on the other hand, complete inability to interpret
them).

Colonel Green had a special grievance against the genuine,

the great, the famous, the one and only Intelligence Service,
which regarded itself as an exclusively intellectual body and
systematically refused to co-operate with the operational
staff. Instead, it locked itself up in its own ivory tower, never
let its precious documents be seen by anyone who could
have made use of them, on the pretext that they were too
secret, and carefully filed them away in a safe. There they
remained for years, until they were no longer of use to
anyone—or, to be more precise, until long after the end of
the war, when one of the big-wigs felt an urge to write his
memoirs before dying, to leave something to posterity and
disclose to an astonished nation how clever the Service had
been on one particular date and on one particular occasion,
when it ascertained every detail of the enemy plan of
campaign: the place and time of the impending attack had
been accurately determined in advance. The forecast was a
hundred per cent correct, since the enemy had indeed
struck in the manner foretold, and with the success that had
likewise been foreseen.

That at least was how it appeared, in a rather exaggerated

light perhaps, to Colonel Green, who disagreed with the
theory of art for art's sake being applied to intelligence
matters. He muttered some inaudible remark as he thought
of some of the previous ventures; then, in view of the
miraculous unanimous agreement on the present scheme, it
was almost with disappointment that he felt he had to admit
that for once the services had done something useful. He
consoled himself with the thought—not entirely a fair one —
that the information contained in the report had been known
to everyone in India for years. Finally he went through it
again and made a mental summary of it, with the idea of
taking action on it.

"The Burma-Siam railway is now under construction. Sixty

thousand Allied prisoners, drafted by the Japanese into a
labour corps, are being employed on it and are working
under ghastly conditions. In spite of appalling losses, it is
calculated that the task, which is of considerable importance
to the enemy, will be completed in a few months. Herewith a
rough sketch-map. It shows several river- crossings by
means of wooden bridges ..."
At this point in his summary Colonel Green felt in good form
again and almost grinned with pleasure. He went on:

"The Siamese people are extremely discontented with the

'liberators', who have requisitioned all the rice and whose
troops behave as though they were in occupied territory.
The peasants in the railway area in particular are showing
signs of unrest. Several senior officers of the Siamese army,
and even some members of the royal family, have recently
established contact with the Allies and are prepared to
launch an anti-Japanese underground movement, for which
countless peasants have volunteered. They request both
weapons and instructors."

"No doubt about it," Colonel Green decided, "I'll have to

send a team into the railway area."

Having made his decision, he pondered for some time on

the various qualities that would be required by the leader of
such an expedition. After ruling out a number of possible
candidates, he called for Major Shears, an ex-cavalry
officer who had been transferred to Force 316 at the time
that special unit had been formed and was, in fact, one of its
founder-members. This private army had only seen the light
of day thanks to the persistent efforts of a few individualists
and the reluctant support of a handful of military experts.
Shears had only just arrived from Europe, where he had
successfully completed several tricky missions, when he
had his lengthy interview with Colonel Green. The Colonel
gave him all the information available and outlined the
general purpose of his mission.

"You'll take only a few stores in with you," he said, "the rest
will be dropped to you as and when you need them. About
the actual operation, you'll be able to see for yourself on the
spot, but don't be in too much of a hurry. I think it'll be best
to wait till the railway's finished and deliver a single powerful
blow rather than risk giving the whole show away by a
series of minor attacks."

There was no need to specify what form the "operation"

would take or what type of stores would be used. The
raison d'etre of "The Plastic and Destructions Co., Ltd."
made a fuller explanation superfluous.

Meanwhile, Shears was to get in touch with the Siamese,

make sure of their good intentions and loyalty, then start
training the partisans.

"As I see it, you'll need to be a team of three," said Colonel

Green, "for the moment at any rate. How does that strike
you?"

"That seems quite reasonable, sir," Shears agreed. "We

need at least a nucleus of three Europeans. Any more, and
we might present too big a target."
"That's settled, then. Who do you plan to take in with you?"

"I suggest Warden, sir."

"Captain Warden? Professor Warden? You certainly don't

believe in half-measures, Shears. With you, that'll make two
of our best agents."

"I understood it was an important mission, sir," was Shears's

non-committal reply.

" It is. It's a very important mission, from the political as well
as the operational point of view."

"Warden's just the man for that, sir. An ex-professor of

Oriental languages. He speaks Siamese and will be able to
get on with the natives. He's a level-headed sort of chap
and doesn't get the wind up—at least not more than most of
us."

"You can have Warden. Now what about the third?"

"I'll think it over, sir. Probably one of the youngsters who've

been through the course. I've seen several who look quite
promising. I'll let you know tomorrow."

Force 316 had established a school in Calcutta where the

young volunteers were trained.

"Right. Here's the map. I've marked the possible D.Z.s and
hide-outs where the Siamese say you'll be able to lie up
without any risk of being discovered. We've already done
the air reconnaissance."

Shears bent over the map and the aerial photographs. He

carefully studied the area which Force 316 had chosen as
his theatre of unorthodox activity in the wilds of Siam. He
felt the thrill which seized him each time he embarked on a
new expedition into unknown territory. There was something
exciting about any Force 316 mission, but this time the
attraction was intensified by the wild nature of the jungle-
clad mountains inhabited by lawless tribes of hunters.

"There seem to be several suitable spots," Colonel Green

went on. "For instance, this isolated little hamlet not far from
the Burmese border, about two or three days' march from
the railway, apparently. According to the sketch-map, the
railway there crosses a river—the River Kwai, if the map's
right. The bridge there will probably be one of the longest on
the line."

Shears smiled, as his CO. had done, at the thought of the

number of bridges across the river.

"I'll have to study the question more closely, of course; but

for the moment, sir, I should think that place would make a
perfect H.Q."

"Right. Now all we've got to do is arrange for the drop.

That'll be in three or four weeks, I should think, if the
Siamese agree. Ever done a jump?"

"Never, sir. Parachuting wasn't included in the course until

after I'd left Europe. I don't think Warden has, either."

"Hang on a moment. I'll see if the experts can put you

through a few training jumps."

Colonel Green seized the telephone, asked for a certain

R.A.F. office and told them what he wanted. He listened for
some time and did not seem at all pleased with what he
heard. Shears, who kept his eyes on him throughout the
conversation, could see how his mood changed.

"That's really your considered opinion, then?" Colonel

Green asked.

He frowned as he listened to the reply, then hung up the

receiver. After a moment's hesitation, he finally made up his
mind and said:

"Do you want to know the experts' opinion? It's this. They
just said: 'If you absolutely insist on your chaps doing some
training jumps, we'll make the necessary arrangements. But
we honestly wouldn't advise it—not unless they can spare
six months for a proper course. Our experience of missions
dropping into this sort of country can be summed up as
follows: if they do only one jump, you know, there's a fifty
per cent chance of an injury. Two jumps, it's eighty per cent.
The third time, it's dead certain they won't get off scot free.
You see? It's not a question of training, but the law of
averages. The wisest thing would be for them to do just the
one jump—and hope for the best.' Well, that's what they
said. Now it's up to you."

"One of the great advantages of the modem army, sir,"

Shears calmly replied, "is that there are experts to solve all
the problems for us. It's no good thinking that we know
better than them. What they've said obviously shows
common sense as well. I'm sure it will appeal to Warden's
logical mind; he's bound to agree with it. We'll take the
advice and do the one jump—and hope for the best."