A Mighty Endeavor (44 page)
Supreme Command Headquarters, Bangkok, Thailand
“The greatest curse of any nation is illiteracy. No matter how free somebody may be in theory, if that person is illiterate, then they are imprisoned by their minds. A prisoner held by steel bars and iron shackles may escape his bonds, but one imprisoned by an illiterate mind can never escape its curse. That is why we
must
educate our children; so that freedom will be their heritage.” Field Marshal Plaek Pibulsonggram leaned forward in his chair, his eyes flashing. “The teacher is in the vanguard of progress and the school is where the future is born.”
Cordell Hull blinked at the unexpected lecture. This wasn’t going at all the way he had expected. “And where does military rule fit into all this?”
Marshal Plaek folded his fingers together as he thought the question over. “In the long term, it does not. In the short and medium term, I believe our task is to prepare the country for truly democratic rule under the leadership of a constitutional monarchy. Once again, we come back to the problem of literacy. People who are illiterate, who cannot investigate matters and form their own opinions, are easily led. To be frank with you, Mister Secretary, my greatest fear is of some smooth-tongued scoundrel who will use wealth and charisma to dominate large numbers of illiterate peasants and bring them to our capital in order to wreak havoc. While illiteracy remains rampant in our country, then that is a danger we must guard against. That is why our constitution stipulates that the transition to full democratic representation in the Assembly should only be achieved at the end of ten years
or
when more than half of the populace has gone through primary education, whichever is achieved
first.
“I am proud to say that we have met this target and when the new elections take place in 1942, more than half the population will indeed have gone through primary education. Many of them are not youngsters; but older members of the community who have sacrificed what little leisure time they have to go back to school and become literate. When they make such sacrifices, we cannot let them down.”
“The American concept of democratic government does not include the concept of qualifying people for the vote. We have had such measures in the past, and they were used to oppress and disenfranchise the voters.”
“Our constitution was actually written by an American jurist, Raymond Bartlett Stevens. It does not qualify people for a vote individually, but merely states that the present arrangement of our parliament, wherein half the members are elected and half appointed, shall be replaced by a parliament wherein all the members are elected once the primary education target is met. Which it was, well before the 1942 deadline.”
Marshal Plaek’s quiet, very precise English had the desired impact. Very reluctantly, Cordell Hull had to concede the point made. Nevertheless, his primary concern remained unaddressed.
“And what, may I ask, are your future intentions with regard to your neighbors?”
“Once again, I will be frank with you, Mister Secretary. Personally, I like Japanese weapons. They are inexpensive for us to buy, simple, easy to maintain and effective. My colleagues in the government disagree and the government has discussed the issue with the loyal opposition, led by Luang Pridi Phanomyong. After listening to the case made by the opposition, I agreed with their position that the political costs represented by any links with Imperial Japan were too high to countenance. However, the need for armaments still remains paramount, given the world situation. The North American P-64s we bought and the license we had been granted to build more would have resolved our problems
but....”
Plaek sighed softly and noted the guilty bob of the head from Cordell Hull.
“Weapons are tools, not intentions; Field Marshal. I asked after the latter.”
“But the availability of appropriate tools determines the range of intentions, does it not? If one has only a hammer, one cannot build a house using screws. The intentions of Thailand, Mister Secretary, are simple. We intend to preserve our independence and our way of life, while also modernizing our country to become part of the modern, democratic world. For this, we require strong defenses and secure borders. The greatest threat to those is Imperial Japan. We must either be strong enough to oppose Imperial Japan or friendly enough with them for them not to be a threat to us. We prefer the former.
“Part of maintaining strong defenses is the ability to recognize threats before they become critical. Every day, the Japanese position in French Indo-China becomes stronger. The French authorities in Indo-China are staunch supporters of the Vichy government and are so indirect allies of Japan. Our border with French Indo-China was forced on us by the treaties of 1893 and 1908 and was deliberately designed to be indefensible. It concerns us here in the government that soon Japan will be on the other side of that border. If Japan attempts the same absorption process that is being conducted in Indochina, it will leave Malaya, Singapore and Burma gravely exposed. Ultimately, India itself will be at risk. As responsible members of the international community, this causes us much concern. We would make some minor changes to the border to improve our defensive positions and negotiate cross-border trade agreements to benefit the lives of the people living along that border, but the French authorities refuse to negotiate with us.”
Cordell Hull shook his head. As a long-term diplomat, a refusal to negotiate was one of the worst cardinal sins he could imagine. It had been the way he, himself, had nearly committed the same sin that had shocked him into undertaking this mission. In his mind, the only worse sin that refusing to negotiate was to negotiate in bad faith. Determining whether the people he had met since his arrival were speaking in good faith was his next priority.
“If Thailand will accept my services as an intermediary, I will go to Hanoi and attempt to organize a meeting where trade and security issues may be discussed. In the meantime, I would like to visit some of the towns and villages here.”
“We will be most grateful for your aid, Mister Secretary. Let us know where you wish to go and we will arrange transport for you.”
The meeting ended much more cordially than it had started. Cordell Hull returned to the Oriental Hotel while Field Marshal Plaek Pibulsonggram read reports on the progress of the communications work that was finally in hand. Even so, he heard the quiet steps as the Ambassador entered his office. Unannounced, of course.
“I trust you did not tell him that the minor border adjustments we have in mind will take us all the way to the Mekong?” Her voice was droll.
“Of course not, Highness. It will be a nice surprise for him.”
Ministry of Defence, Canberra, Australia
Sir Wilfrid Freeman sighed softly as he tried to settle comfortably into his seat. The damage done by the bullet that had struck his shoulder still troubled him gravely and he had the resigned feeling that the mobility of his arm would never be fully restored. Still, the report he was reading cheered him up greatly. If the Commonwealth Aircraft Corporation could pull this off, then the genius of the British for inspired improvisation still survived.
“So you’ve converted the Harvard trainer into a fighter?” Sir Wilfrid deliberately put an incredulous note into his voice. If the CAC could defend this project properly, they would also be capable of driving it to a proper conclusion and taking it even further.
“Not the Harvard; nah. The Wirraway. A cousin ta the Harvard. We took the basic NA-16 design, gave it a R-1340 engine, beefed it up for dive bombin’ and gave it two forward-firin’ machine guns, not one. More or less what North American did with the design ta get the AT-6, which then became your Harvard. Then, of course, North American beefed that aircraft up to be a dive bomber and light attack aircraft, then sold it to the Siamese.”
Sir Wilfrid nodded, taking due care to make his expression as skeptical as possible. “Converting a trainer to a light bomber is one thing. Converting it into a fighter is quite another.”
“It’s a bit more than just a conversion, cobber. We gave it a license-built R-I830, reworked the whole airframe ta cope with the extra power, messed around with the undercart and gave it a pair of 20mm cannons in addition ta its ,303s. Changed the wing profile as well. Truth be told, there ain’t much of the ridgy didge Wirraway left there.”
It took him a few seconds to translate the comment into English. When he had, he was impressed. The file on the aircraft had the estimated performance data and Sir Wilfrid had already made his assessment of that information. The new fighter would be slow at altitude and virtually useless over 15,000 feet; low down, it would be the equal of anything believed to be in the area. Most importantly, it was made using Australian resources and was quite independent of anything that had to be imported. Except the 20mm cannons, of course. They were going to be a problem.
“How long? A year? 18 months?”
The CAC representative looked unbearably smug. “Nah. We’ve rolled the first one out already. We’re doin’ the ground tests now. We’ll fly her in less than five weeks. January 29th is the date we have pencilled in. You’re welcome to come down and see her fly. I know, she ain’t important in the run of thin’s...”
It was time to end the charade. Sir Wilfrid knew that CAC had done an incredible job in getting their little fighter ready in such a short time. It was time to make sure that achievement was recognized.
“Not important? My dear sir, this CA-12 fighter of yours could turn out to be the most important project Australia is currently involved in. The deliveries of American fighters have staunched a gaping hole in our air defenses, but they are a short-term expedient only and they leave us open to unwelcome pressure. One change you will have to make will be the 20mm cannon. We cannot be sure of their supply; make certain the CA-12 can carry four .303 machine guns in their place.”
“The order is confirmed, then?” CAC had an order in hand for 105 CA-12 fighters but they knew Sir Wilfrid was tasked with choosing the aircraft to rearm the RAAF, and controlling of their production, by the Australian government. The CA-12 would be competing with the Department of Aircraft Production Beaufort for the R-1830 engines
“Of course. And I will be honored to attend the aircraft’s first flight. What do you want to call it, by the way?”
“We thought ta’ Boomerang. Always comes back, ya see. We’ll be proud to see ya at CAC anytime ya like. To be honest, we thought DAP would be takin’ us over.”
Sir Wilfrid shook his head. “They’re all set up to build the Beauforts and their design team will be fully-absorbed in bringing the Beaufighter into production. Anyway, it never hurts to have a little competition, does it? That brings us to the subject of your future. I assume that, with the first flight impending, your design team is reaching the end of their involvement in the CA-12? That being the case, you would be well-advised to come up with some concepts for its successor. You might like to look at some of the wing designs the Americans have come up with.”
The representatives from CAC left with delighted expressions on their faces. Once they were gone, Sir Wilfred opened the next file on his desk, de Havilland Australia were already building Tiger Moth trainers and Dragon Rapide light transports but their capacity was under-utilized. Amongst the treasure trove of documents brought out of Britain were the blueprints for a medium transport aircraft, the Flamingo. Building that aircraft in Australia was the next project to get under way. The problem was getting anybody in Australia to trust a de Havilland-built transport after the DH.86 disaster. He sighed again and shook his head. He’d gone through this whole process once before as the Air Member for Research and Development. That hadn’t ended well, but all he could hope was that his work would have a better outcome this time.
Cabinet Office, 10 Downing Street, London, United Kingdom
“Now is the time to call a halt.”
R.A.B. Butler had the situation reports from the Middle East in his hands. They showed that Italian resistance in East Africa had crumpled completely, with Italian forces heading in full retreat back to Ethiopia. “The 12th King’s African Division has taken Mogadiscio, while the South Africans have cleared Kenya and are moving northwards into Ethiopia. In the north, General Wavell’s troops are advancing on Asmara while his forces are also entering Ethiopia. A diplomatic engagement with the Italians now will pay dividends and consolidate our gains. We have a victory that we can point to, as justification for our adjustments to Britain’s political outlook.”
“Did you see what the newspapers have said?” Lord Halifax gave no sign of having heard Butler’s words. His own voice was querulous and petty. “They refer to the
South Africans
driving the Italians out of Kenya. It is
South African
Tomahawks that swept the skies of Italian aircraft.
Indian
troops are advancing on Massawa and invading Ethiopia.
African
troops are occupying Italian Somaliland. Where is mention of us in all this? According to the newspapers, these victories are being won by the Dominions without any contribution by ourselves.
I
approved the operations in North Africa and supported General Wavell. Where is mention of
that?”
