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First published in Great Britain by Michael Joseph 1994
Copyright © Harry Patterson 1994
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Photography and illustration © Nik Keevil
Harry Patterson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Certain elements of this book are inspired by an earlier work, Midnight Never Comes, published in 1966.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008132385
Ebook Edition © May 2015 ISBN: 9780007352302
Version: 2015-04-01
CHUNGKING
August 1944
The pilot, Flight Lieutenant Joe Caine of RAFTransport Command, was tired, frozen to the bone, his hands clamped to the control column. He eased it forward and took the plane down, emerging from low cloud at three thousand feet into driving rain.
The aircraft ploughing its way through heavy cloud and thunderstorm was a Douglas DC3, the famous Dakota, as much a workhorse for the American Air Force as for the RAFwho together operated them out of the Assam airfields of north India, flying supplies to Chiang Kai-shekâs Chinese Army. On their way they had to negotiate the infamous Hump, as it was known to Allied aircrews, the Himalayan mountains, trying to survive in some of the worst flying conditions in the world.
âThere she is, Skipper,â the second pilot said. âDead ahead. Three miles.â
âAnd the usual lousy blackout,â Caine said, which was true enough. The inhabitants of Chungking were notoriously lazy in that respect and there were lights all over the place.
âWell, here we go,â he said.
âMessage from control tower,â the wireless operator called from behind.
Caine switched on to VHFand called the tower.âSugar Nan here. Is there a problem?â
âPriority traffic coming in. Please go round,â a neutral voice said.
âFor Godâs sake,â Caine replied angrily, âIâve just clocked one thousand miles over the Hump. Weâre tired, cold and almost out of fuel.â
âVIPtraffic to starboard and below you. Go round. Please acknowledge.â The voice was firm.
The second pilot looked out of the side, then turned. âAbout five hundred feet below, Skipper. Another Dakota. A Yank from the look of it.â
âAll right,â Caine said wearily and banked to port.
The man who stood on the porch of the Station Commanderâs office staring up into the rain, listening to the sound of the first Dakota coming in, wore the uniform of a Vice-Admiral of the Royal Navy, a trenchcoat over his shoulders. His name was Lord Louis Mountbatten and he was cousin to the King of England. A highly decorated war hero, he was also Supreme Allied Commander Southeast Asia.
The American General in steel-rimmed spectacles who emerged behind him, pausing to light a cigarette, was General âVinegar Joeâ Stilwell, Mountbattenâs deputy and also Chief of Staff to Chiang Kai-shek. The greatest expert on China of anyone in the Allied forces, Stilwell was also fluent in Cantonese.
He perched on the rail. âWell, here he comes, the great Chairman Mao.â
âWhat happened to Chiang Kai-shek?â Mountbatten asked.
âFound an excuse to go up-country. Itâs no use, Louis, Mao and Chiang will never get together. They both want the same thing.â
âChina?â Mountbatten said.
âExactly.â
âYes, well, Iâd like to remind you this isnât the Pacific, Joe. Twenty-five Jap divisions in China and, since the start of their April offensive, theyâve been winning. No one knows that better than you. We need Mao and his Communist Army. Itâs as simple as that.â
They watched the Dakota land. Stilwell said, âThe Washington viewpoint is simple. Weâve given enough lend-lease to Chiang.â
âAnd what have we got for it?â Mountbatten asked.âHe sits on his backside doing nothing, saving his ammunition and equipment for the civil war with the Communists when the Japs are beaten.â