History

History Friday: 18 Minutes on a Day in April (Reprise from 2012)

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Eighteen minutes, by the clock in that furious eighteen minutes, a strategic battle was won. Eventually it would prove that more than just an errant and rebellious state had been lost to a central governing authority and worse yet, lost under the personal supervision of a charismatic and able leader. In an open meadow with a slight rise across the middle of it, fringed with tall trees, bounded on two sides by a river and a third by a swampy lake (or a lakey swamp; descriptions are elastic) the dreams of one nation-state died and another was born.

The dreams of one of those nation-states died along with a fair number of its soldiers; ironically, the long-term political career of the man who had led them there was not one of them. He was the prototypical general on a white horse, following a willow-the-wisp of his enemy. He would not die in the swamp around Peggy’s Lake, or in the waters where Vince’s Bridge had been cut down. He would, like his adversary, die of old age in bed of more or less natural causes, after a lifetime of scheming, treachery and showmanship. This probably came as a great surprise to everyone who had taken part on either side of the 1835-36 Texas War of Independence: that General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna would live a long and erratically prosperous life, and that his cause of death did not involve a hangman’s rope, a firing squad or an outraged husband. Which, given his career of double-cross, astounding brutality and corruption, should give confidence and inspiration to prospective caudillos everywhere. That is the end of the story. However, the beginning was in Texas in the mid 1830s.

Which beginning is more tangled than anyone could imagine, from just knowing of it through the medium of pop-culture. For most people, Americans and foreigners alike, that is pretty well limited to movies about the Alamo, and the Disney version of Davy Crockett: Act One – American settlers take over Texas; Act Two – many of them hole up in the Alamo; Act Three – a lot of swarthy and nattily-dressed Mexican soldiers kill them all; Act Four – somehow, the Americans win Texas after all, and in spite of that. Garnish with any number of fashionable intellectual flourishes, conceits and concepts and salt to taste.

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Conclusion: The Secret Voyage of the Kofuku Maru

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(Part 1 here and Part 2 here.)

Once they passed through the Lombok Strait, the Krait (formerly the Kofuku Maru) threaded a cautious way among islands that were irregular polka-dots of green along the Sumatra coast, Engineer McDowell and his assistant nursing his engine as if it were a cranky child prone to tantrums. One of the officers was in the wheelhouse at all times. The mixed crew of soldiers and sailors kept a careful look-out, day and night – but they had come deliberately by a route that avoided the normal shipping lanes in and around Singapore. They made a happy discovery, upon encountering other craft—mostly native fishing boats and small commerce; such craft turned around and went the other way, at top speed, upon seeing the purposefully stained and tattered Japanese flag which they flew now. By the 18th, they were a bare 22 miles from Singapore, lurking with intent among the islands star-scattered to the south of the city, searching for a deserted and unobserved spot within striking distance of Keppel Harbor. Anchoring off Panjang Island at 4 in the morning, they decided that spot would do, for disembarking the six members of the canoe teams, and deadly cargo: Lyon, Davidson, and Page, with the three naval ratings: Walter Falls, Arthur “Joe” Jones and A.W. Huston. In two weeks exactly, the Krait would return to the rendezvous at Panjang to retrieve the six … if all went according to plan.

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Part 2 – The Secret Journey of the Kofuku Maru

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(This is going to be a three-part story: I had other projects today and could only finish this second part.)

The newly-rechristened Krait, with the old unreliable engine now replaced, had a full crew at last for Operation Jaywick. A chief engineer, Leading Stoker Paddy McDowell, a WWI Navy veteran, and an assistant engineer, another experienced sailor, Leading Seaman “Cobber” Cain. They also had recruited a radio operator, Leading Telegraphist “Horrie” Young, and a cook: Corporal Andy Crilley, a soldier who was about to be discharged on medical grounds but wanted to stay in the war. Meanwhile Donald Davidson had also selected five men from a pool of naval volunteers that he had personally trained for months in mission-essential skills: the art of silently maneuvering the Folboat canoes in all kinds of water, rappelling, navigation, stalking an enemy, the use of weapons, both bullet and bladed, as well as care of and use of explosives. The five chosen were not just skilled in those deadly arts, but also mature, steady and temperamentally suited for a grueling mission in which teamwork would be essential.

By early August, 1943, the Krait was ready to depart Cairns for Exmouth, on Australia’s western coast, carrying a mixed and eccentric crew of soldiers and sailors … but to where after that, exactly? Only Lyon, Davidson, Page and Carse knew their eventual destination: Lyon because he was overall in charge, and Carse because he was now commander of the deceptively ordinary Krait. The Krait’s four holds were packed jam-full of supplies: basic food and water, including rations sealed into tins which could be cached for the raiding party somewhere on land. Lt. Page had been a third-year medical student before the war, and as such, would be their doctor in a medical emergency. (The medical supplies also included rum, whiskey and gin – for celebrating if the mission was successful, and cyanide tablets in the dire event of failure and capture by the Japanese.)

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History Friday – The Secret Voyage of the Kofuku Maru

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When I came around to writing a novel set in the World War II timeframe a couple of years ago, one of the main characters spent the war years, first in Malaya and then Australia. This meant a deep dive into the war along the southern Pacific front, and life in Australia during that period. We Americans had Pearl Harbor, defeat of our military in the Philippines, the Bataan Death March, Wake and Midway, Guadalcanal and Tarawa; Australia had the loss of their troops in Singapore and Malaya, the occupation of Sumatra, Japanese air raids on Darwin, and the war next door in New Guinea.

The fall of Singapore struck a particularly heavy blow to the Allies in 1942: so close to Australia, with many personal and economic connections. Refugees from British and Dutch interests in southwest Asia fled in the direction of Australia and India in anything that could float and escape the deadly notice of the Japanese. One of those fortunate vessels was the Kofuku Maru, a 70-ft Japanese-built wooden craft, with a mainsail and an engine. It was constructed in the late 1930s to support the fishing fleet based out of Singapore, bringing water and food out to the fishing fleet, and collecting the catch for sale in the marketplace. Confiscated by British authorities after war broke out, by early spring of 1942 the Kofuku Maru was under the command of a volunteer Australian merchant mariner in his sixties named Bill Reynolds. Reynolds was tasked with evacuating civilians from the Malay peninsula, first to Sumatra, and then to Colombo, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).

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History Friday – The Other Alamo

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(A repost from 2012, from my author blog – for the anniversary of Texas independence.)

The Texas Revolution and War for Independence from Mexico initially rather resembled the American Revolution, some sixty years before— a resemblance not lost on the American settlers in Texas. At the very beginning, both the Colonies and the Anglo-Texans were far-distant communities with a self-sufficient tradition, who had been accustomed to manage their own affairs with a bare minimum of interference from the central governing authority. Colonists and Anglo-Texans started off by standing on their rights as citizens, but a heavy-handed response by the central government provoked a response that spiraled into open revolt. ‘Since they’re trying to squash us like bugs for being rebellious, we might as give them a real rebellion and put up a fight,’ summed up the attitude.

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