The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [690]
It was true! What else could it be? It was suddenly so obvious now that it had been pointed out to them that they wondered why they had not seen it before. What a noise of jubilation rose from around the board-room table! So loudly did they cheer their Secretary and Chairman-elect that even Walter heard it and paused grimly on the way to his car, reflecting that the first thing he must do once he had taken control of Langfield and Bowser was to purge the board of its dimwits. But just for a moment, accepting the congratulations of his colleagues, Bowser-Barrington had a frightening feeling, almost as if he had heard what might have been a faint grunt of exasperation and a tapping against wood from beneath the table. But no, he was, of course, imagining it. It was merely one of his directors drumming with his shoe on the lid of the box in his excitement.
66
Singapore Island (which, if you recall, resembled the head and ears of an elephant on the map in General Percival’s office) was now under siege. Late on Sunday night the first Japanese landing-craft had crossed the Strait to attack the north-western shore. This had come as an unpleasant surprise to General Percival because it meant that the Japanese were attacking the top of the elephant’s right ear. In other words, they were attacking the wrong one! He had confidently expected them to attack the other ear, using Pulau Ubin to shield their approach. Even when the reconnaissance patrol sent across the Straits by General Gordon Bennett had reported large troop concentrations opposite that right-hand ear General Percival still had not ceased to hope that they might nevertheless attack the other one … where they would find the fresh, newly arrived British 18th Division waiting for them. After all, it might just be that this attack in the north-west was merely a diversionary move, intended to make him commit his reserve to that front while the main attack would still come in from the north-east to deal him a stunning blow on the left ear while he was looking in the other direction.
Percival, trying to snatch some sleep in his Sime Road office while waiting for news of the fighting, simply could not bring himself to believe that what Gordon Bennett’s weakened 22nd Australian Brigade was now having to repel was the main attack. Communications had been severed by the heavy bombardment from the mainland before the attack: as a result there was a long delay before reports at last began to reach Sime Road. At first it seemed as if things might not be going too badly. There was word of tough resistance by the Australians and of Japanese landing craft being destroyed in large quantities. But that coastline was too long and too thinly defended. Gradually Percival’s hopes began to melt away. By the early hours of the morning it had become evident that this was indeed the main Japanese attack and that, by daylight, the right-hand ear would be virtually lost to the Japanese.
At 8.30 a.m. Percival at last committed his only Command Reserve, the 12th Indian Brigade consisting of Argylls and Hyderabads who had survived the Slim River, to come under Gordon Bennett’s orders for the defence of the crucial north-south line where the elephant’s ear was attached to its head. This was the Jurong line, the shortest and the last line from which it was conceivable that the Japanese might be prevented from seizing the all-important central part of the Island and the high ground at Bukit Timah. Because from Bukit Timah, if they reached there, they would not only be occupying that part of the Island where the main food, fuel and ammunition stocks were held but also be looking down on Singapore Town itself. Then it would be all over: the city would lie in the palm of the Japanese hand.
Nevertheless, although this north-south line was in fact the last truly defensible position before Singapore Town itself,