The first hundred yards was the worst. After that, although I could see the muzzle of the tank’s gun dropping gradually as the gunner kept us in his sights, I knew that unless we suddenly drove straight at him brandishing anti–tank grenades, he was not going to fire. Also I could see a group of officers standing in the shade by the gate of the police barracks, waiting.
When we were within ten yards of the tank, a lieutenant in the Government uniform stepped out from behind it and held up his hand. I stopped with a jerk that made the staff captain lurch against the back of my seat.
Aroff got out stiffly and stood beside the jeep. When the staff captain and I had joined him, the lieutenant advanced and stopped in front of us.
“Follow me, please,” he said curtly.
He turned then, and we followed him past the tank and over to the gateway. The group of officers was no longer there, only two sentries who stared at us curiously. The lieutenant led the way through into the courtyard of the barracks and the two sentries closed in behind us.
There was a big sago palm in the centre, and a table and chair had been placed in the shade of it. General Ishak sat at the table. Standing behind him were four officers and a civilian. I had never seen Ishak before. He was a thin, bitter-looking man with angry eyes and one of those wispy Sundanese moustaches that look as if they have just been stuck on with spirit gum. More interesting to me at that moment, however, was the fact that just behind him, still haggard but crisp and clean in his proper uniform, stood Major Suparto. As we came up to the table, I saw his eyes flicker towards me, but he gave no sign of recognition.
Aroff stopped and saluted the General.
Ishak did not return the salute. For a moment the two men stared at one another in silence. I was standing a little behind Aroff and I could see the muscles of his jaw twitching. Ishak looked at me.
“Who is this?” I recognised the voice. It was light and ugly, and sounded as if he were trying to speak and swallow at the same time. I had heard it once before that week.
“Mr. Fraser, an engineer from the Tangga Valley project, General. He is here by agreement as an observer.”
“Very well.” He glanced at the civilian who stood next to Suparto. “This is Mr. Petersen of the Malayan Rubber Agency.”
“Dutch?” Aroff demanded sharply.
“Danish,” said Mr. Petersen. He was a stout, fleshy-faced man in the late fifties, wearing a suit as well as a tie and looking as if he might at any moment collapse from the heat. I nodded to him and he smiled nervously.
Ishak yawned. “Although why foreign observers should be necessary to witness a simple police operation is not easy to understand,” he said, and looked up at Aroff. “Well, this meeting is at Sanusi’s request. He can only wish to surrender. It remains for me to inform you about the time and place. You agree?”
“No, General. All I am instructed to discuss are the terms of an armistice.”
“What armistice? What terms?”
Aroff fumbled in his pocket and drew out the document. “I have the proposals here.”
Ishak took the document, glanced through it impassively and then passed it to a colonel, presumably his chief of staff, who was standing behind him. Suparto read it over the colonel’s shoulder. When they had finished, the colonel handed it back to Ishak. The latter
glanced through it again and then looked at Aroff.
“Before you became a traitor, Aroff,” he said, “you used to be an intelligent man.” He tore the document in half and dropped the pieces on the table. “What has happened to you?”
“I am here to discuss terms, General.” Aroff’s voice was very carefully controlled.
Ishak flicked the torn paper away from him. “That discussion is ended. If you do not wish to make any personal explanation, then we will waste no more time. You may go.”
Aroff did not move. “The document, General, was intended as a basis for negotiations. It can be modified.”
Ishak shook his head. “It cannot be modified. You are not here to negotiate or to discuss terms. If you are not here to offer surrender, then we are wasting time.” He stood up. “You have five minutes to get back to your lines.”
Aroff hesitated, then he gave in. “On what terms would you accept a surrender, General?”
“I will tell you. Your masters say that they wish to avoid useless suffering and damage to property. So do I. On that point we agree. Very well. I will accept the surrender of all members of your rebel force who disarm themselves, form themselves into separate parties of not more than twenty-five, and march under flags of surrender to the square in front of the railroad station.
Each party should appoint a leader who will carry the white flag, and every man must bring any food he has with him. All arms and ammunition must be left behind under guard in the Van Riebeeck square until our troops arrive there.”
“What treatment would those who surrender receive?”
“For the present they will be treated as if they were foreign prisoners of war under the terms of the Geneva Convention. Later, no doubt, after a year, perhaps, an amnesty will be granted. That is all, I think. Do those terms seem harsh to you, Aroff?”
Aroff shook his head.
Ishak smiled unpleasantly. “After what has happened, they seem to me absurdly lenient. Politicians’ terms, Aroff! You should be laughing.”
Aroff sighed. “You were good enough to say that I was an intelligent man, General. You would have more dignity if you treated me as one.”
“What more do you want, Aroff? A free pardon?”
“The list of exceptions, General. The list of those whose surrender will not be accepted.”
“Ah yes, the outlaws.” He held out his hand and Suparto gave him a paper. “Let us see. Sanusi, Roda, Aroff, Dahman … I am sorry to tell you that you are on the list. Shall I read any more?”
“If Major Suparto drew it up, I am sure it is complete.”
Aroff looked straight at Suparto, and I was glad I could not see his eyes.
Suparto stared back impassively.
Ishak handed Aroff the paper. “Your masters will want to see that. They have half an hour in which to let us know that they accept our terms.”
“Terms, General?” Aroff said bitterly. “You mean a death sentence, surely!”
“No, Aroff.” Ishak’s eyes narrowed. “That sentence has been passed already. It is no longer a question of whether you all die or not, but only of how you die and of how many of your men die with you. We shall see now what value your leader puts on his men’s lives.” He turned to Suparto. “Send them back.”
Ishak began to walk towards the barrack entrance. Suparto moved after him quickly and said something. Ishak paused. I saw him glance back at me and then nod to Suparto before walking on.
Suparto came over to Aroff.
“Mr. Fraser is a foreigner and a non-combatant. Is it necessary for him to return with you?”
Aroff shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose not.”
“It is very necessary,” I said.
They both stared at me.
Suparto frowned. “Why?”
“Roda left me in no doubt that he regards Miss Linden as a hostage.”
“That is absurd.”
“It wasn’t absurd yesterday, Major. You should know that.”
“The situation is now different.”
“Not for Miss Linden. She’s still up there in that apartment. I’m very grateful to you for the suggestion, but I think I must go back.”
He sighed irritably. “This is foolishness, Mr. Fraser. The woman is not your wife.”
“Perhaps Mr. Fraser has scruples about betraying those who trust him,” said Aroff.
Suparto stood absolutely still, his face a mask. For a moment he stared at Aroff, then he nodded to the lieutenant who was waiting to escort us back to the jeep.
Aroff was smiling as he turned away.
The jeep had been standing out in the sun and the metal on it was painful to touch. I made a clumsy job of turning it between the deep drains. My movements were hampered, too, by the staff captain, who was leaning forward across the back of my seat, pleading with Aroff.
“The list, Colonel. May I see the list?”
“Not now.”
“A man has a right to know if he is to die.”
“All men have to die, Captain.”
“If I could see the list.”
“Not while they are watching us. Have you no dignity?”
“For the love of Allah, tell me.”
“Are you a renegade? Did you formerly hold a commission from the Republic?”
“You know that I did, Colonel.”
“Then you will be on the list.”
I managed to get the jeep round at last and drove back towards the barricade. Behind me, the staff captain began to weep.
From this side of the canal crossing I could see the front of the cinema. Above the portico there was a big advertising cut-out. Next week, it said, they would be showing
Samson and Delilah
.
When we arrived back at the square, the shelling had stopped. The Ministry of Public Health had had a direct hit on the roof, and smoke was drifting up from the smouldering débris below. Outside the Air House there was a pile of rubble that seemed to have fallen from one of the upper floors. All over the square there were men still digging in. There was an insistent racket of machine-gun fire. It seemed to be coming from somewhere only two or three streets away.
Rosalie had been alone for nearly an hour and I was worried about her. The only time Aroff had spoken since we had re-crossed the canal had been to tell m to stop so that the wretched staff captain could remove the flag of truce. When we left the jeep, I drew him aside.
“I don’t think I can be much help to you with Roda, do you, Colonel?”
He thought for a moment and then he said: “No. This captain will escort you back. I will tell Roda that I ordered it.”
“Is there any reason why Miss Linden and I should remain here?”
“None, except that you would need Roda’s permission to leave. At this moment, it would not be wise to ask for it.”
“I see what you mean.”
“Besides, where would you go? The streets would be more dangerous for you than this place, and who would take you into his house at such a time?”
“Perhaps there will be a surrender?”
He shook his head. “They will never agree. They will dream of miraculous escapes. Ishak knows that. He is only humiliating us. He means to destroy us all.”
“If it rested with you, Colonel, would you accept?”
He shrugged wearily. “If it had rested with me, I would never have attempted to negotiate. I am not so afraid of death. Now, we have lost face and will die ashamed.” He hesitated and then gave me a little bow of dismissal. “Your company has been a pleasure, Mr. Fraser.”
The staff captain left me at the door of the apartment and hurried back downstairs, presumably to make his own panic-stricken contribution to the discussion of Ishak’s surrender terms.
The door from the hall into the living room was
shut. If there were any officers inside I did not want to walk in on them unexpectedly. I knocked. There was no reply; but as I opened the door I had a shock.
When I had left, the sun roof over the terrace had been propped up fairly securely, and the screens were in place. Now there was no sun roof and the screens were flattened. One of the long chairs was lying across the balustrade. I ran through on to the terrace.
The shell had landed on the terrace of one of the unfinished apartments about thirty feet beyond the barrier wall with the spikes on it, and had dislodged a whole section of the balustrade there. The barrier wall was sagging like an unhinged door, and the blast had lifted the roof off the bathhouse.
As I saw this and started towards the bedroom shouting for Rosalie, I stumbled over one of the screens. Then, I saw her running towards me along the terrace and went to meet her.
For a minute or so she clung to me, sobbing. It was only relief, she explained after a while; relief that I was back. She had really not been very frightened when the shell burst; it had been so sudden. It was right what I had told her about shells and the noise they made. She had not heard this one coming.
All this time she had been holding the water scoop from the bathhouse in her hand. Now, she explained that the cistern had collapsed into the bathhouse when the roof had lifted, and that she had been trying to transfer
what was left of the water into the ewer before it all leaked away.
I went along there with her and had a look at the damage. If the cistern had been full it would have crashed through to the floor. As it was, the pipes had held it up, though one of them had fractured and was gradually draining it. I got a jug from the kitchen and between us we managed to get most of the water into the ewer. While we were doing this, I told her about the surrender offer and what Colonel Aroff had said.
She took the news calmly.
“General Ishak is a swine,” was her comment.
“You know him?”
“Everyone knows about him. Mina has a very funny scandal. He sleeps with young men, you know. They say that even so he can do nothing. When you spoke to Major Suparto, did he say anything about us?”
“I only had a word or two with him.”
“Do you think he will try to help us?”
“If he can, he will.”
She fell silent. The cistern just above our heads was vibrating to the concussion of an eighty-eight which was slamming away somewhere along the Telegraf Road. I knew that she was listening to the noise carefully and beginning to wonder about the violence it represented. She had a standard of comparison now.
“I think it’s time we had a drink,” I said.
T
he first tank reached the Van Riebeeck Square just before sundown.
No great flights of military imagination had been needed to devise General Ishak’s plan of attack. The modern dock area south of the river had been quietly occupied by Government troops after the bombing of the road and rail bridges the previous afternoon. It was only the semi-circle of city north of the river, and centred on the Van Riebeeck Square, that he had to take by force. The rebel outer defence ring had been held together by three strong points: the canal network of the old port, the garrison barracks and a rubber factory in the suburbs. He had decided to make his break-through a little to the south of the barracks under a covering bombardment from the destroyer, then fan out right and left, rolling up the outer defences as he went. Finally, he would turn east again and send three armoured
columns to converge on rebel headquarters. In view of the superior forces at his disposal, there was no likelihood of the plan failing. All that remained to be learned was how soon it would succeed.