The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [581]
Revived by the noise, the Major put down the list of useful Malay phrases he had been trying to master and walked across to the window. The rain was pelting down on the broad, green banana leaves and sweeping down the drive in a river towards the storm-drain.
‘Listen to this, Brendan,’ chuckled Dupigny, who was sprawled in a rattan chair reading the Straits Times. ‘ “Newly arrived. Sandbags! Only a limited quantity available. Apply Hagemeyer Trading Company Ltd.’ They have a vigorous commercial instinct, the people of Singapore!’
‘Undoubtedly, François, the Japanese have gained some initial advantage,’ said the Major who had been following his own train of thought. ‘But I doubt if they will get much further.’
‘Sans blague!’
‘They had the advantage of surprise and that counts for a great deal. But the further they drive our chaps back, the more concentrated our forces become … like a spring which is being compressed. In due course we’ll spring back all the more powerfully.’
‘Sans blague!’
‘Would you mind not saying “sans blague” all the time? It gets on my nerves.’
‘Sorry.’
It had grown very dark outside and the rain fell so heavily that it filled the room with a noise like a roll of drums. Through a crack in the floorboards the Major could see a sheet of rainwater sliding under the bungalow between the pillars on which it stood. From time to time a flash of lightning lit up Dupigny’s face across the room, a cynical mass of wrinkles. He had put down the newspaper which he could no longer see to read.
‘What a storm!’ said Matthew, wandering in from his office next door and joining the Major at the window.
‘They don’t usually last very long,’ said the Major. He added presently: ‘By the way, Mr Wu was here earlier and said he had heard there had been more trouble up-country.’ The Major, though he did not say so, was afraid that Malaya might be beginning to fall to pieces. Nor was it simply a question of the military situation. He explained to Matthew what he had heard.
Last week there had been talk of Australian troops wrecking a hotel somewhere. Now rumours had reached Mr Wu, who had business contacts in Penang, Kuala Lumpur, Ipoh and Kuantan, that civil disorder, looting and inter-racial strife was spreading like a shock-wave in front of the advancing Japanese bayonets. In some places the retreating British troops, instructed to destroy stores that might be of value to the enemy, had set the example by looting jewellers and liquor shops, eagerly assisted by the local population and even by the police who had discarded their uniforms and joined in with a will. Open season had been declared on anything of value left behind. A cloud of locusts descended on every abandoned European bungalow: in no time it was stripped of everything down to light-bulbs, door-handles and bathroom fittings. When European bungalows had all been stripped the looters turned to those abandoned by rich Chinese, Indians and Malays … and, presently, to those that had not been abandoned, stripping them regardless and, if the owner did not promptly produce his valuables, torturing him until he did. Sometimes, according to Mr Wu’s all too circumstantial and convincing account, Chinese looters would wear masks, or pretend to be Japanese soldiers; sometimes two rival bands of looters would arrive to sack the same premises, which now included Government rice godowns, Land offices and Customs premises, and do battle with each other for the right to pillage. And all this accompanied by wholesale violence and rape, not to mention old scores being paid off. The country was foundering in anarchy!
‘What do you expect to happen?’ asked Dupigny, dismissing the matter with a shrug. ‘I do not see why you should be surprised.’
‘But wait, François. The laws of a country are merely the wish of people to live in a certain way. Remove the laws for a few days and you don’t expect anarchy to result overnight, any more than by abolishing road regulations you would expect motorists to pick at random which side of the road they would