Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [205]
After their supper Tyndall and Olivia returned to the verandah. The wet was almost over, a soft fuzz ringed the moon. The calm waters were dotted with Qantas Catalinas and Short Sunderland flying boats. ‘They look like great big birds bobbing out there in the bay,’ said Olivia. ‘It looks so peaceful.’
‘For the moment. There’s still a lot of activity down there. They have to get out on the tides. Makes it tricky.’
‘What’s going to happen to us, John?’ whispered Olivia.
‘Who knows? All we can do is our best, as we’ve always done. Do you want to leave? Maybe you should. Maybe we both should.’
‘Do you want to go?’
‘No. A captain doesn’t leave his ship. Don’t worry, my precious.’ He kissed the top of her head.
‘I’m with you, Captain.’ Olivia felt comforted as Tyndall put an arm around her.
Two days later in the afternoon as the lighter Nicol Bay, carrying drums of aviation fuel, ploughed across the bay to one of the three flying boats, Tyndall and Ahmed paused while working near the jetty and looked up. A distant buzz high above them materialised into a small aircraft turning in a lazy arc and circling several times before heading north-west.
Tyndall hurried along to an engineer working nearby who was also gazing skywards. ‘What do you make of that?’ asked Tyndall.
‘Jap reconnaissance plane, I reckon.’
‘I don’t like it. The brass think we’re out of flying range for the Japanese, but at the rate they’re moving their bases this way, I don’t think we are.’
‘Good thing only a couple of planes in.’
‘There’ll be more tonight. They’re damned sitting ducks,’ said Tyndall ominously.
‘See, I knew there’d be more arrivals,’ declared Tyndall the next morning as he stood on his front verandah with a mug of tea. ‘There’s sixteen aircraft out there.’
‘They’re all Dutch by the look of it,’ said Olivia, joining him.
‘I’d better get down there and help with the refuelling, they should get them out as soon as the tide is right.’ He kissed Olivia and handed her his empty mug. ‘See you later on, my darling.’
While the aircraft were being refuelled, some of the air crews were celebrating the success of the last refugee run down in the bar of the Conti. Most of the Dutch women and children were waiting in the flying boats. At the aerodrome the first of the half dozen aircraft was preparing to leave. A Liberator had arrived at dawn from Jogjakarta with wounded men and was given first priority out.
On the spur of the moment, Olivia had decided to go down to the wharf to watch the aircraft take off. She joined the small crowd of remaining locals and a group of evacuated women and children waiting for a launch to take them to their flying boat.
The crews in the Conti looked at their watches and tipped back the last of their drinks. It was a bright clear morning approaching 9.30 a.m.
From the north came the drone of aircraft which no one took any notice of until, seconds later, from Cable Beach came nine silver specks swooping low and fast over Roebuck Bay.
Olivia glanced up, then screamed at the sight of the deadly little Zeros with the brilliant red circle of the rising sun on their fuselage. She watched in horror as the planes struck with surprise and accuracy.
At the sound of machine gun fire, men raced from the Continental and watched helplessly as one after another of the flying boats was hit and burst into flames.
Olivia’s first instinct was to dive flat on the wharf, putting her hands over her ears trying to block out the screams of the women and children in the sinking and burning aircraft.
The Zeros turned for another attacking run and their tracer bullets ripped through other boats and planes that had survived the first onslaught.
Suddenly, everyone sprang into action as clouds of black smoke rolled around the brilliant waters of the bay.
‘John!’ screamed Olivia, starting to run down the long wharf to find him and Ahmed.
The captain of the refuelling lighter cast