Free And Fire Falls by Peter Watt Page A

should do next. Already medical orderlies were filtering into the shattered room to tend to the wounded. Welsh dug through the rubble to find his rifle and decided that it was his duty to try to track down the Japanese transmitter located nearby. Perhaps information from this source had prompted the artillery attack.
    Corporal Welsh left the ruins of the smoking building. He would take his information to Major Albert Ulverstone, their detachment commander, and see what he thought. Major Ulverstone’s billet was in the building next door and Welsh could see that it had not been hit by artillery shells. Inside, the house seemed deserted. Welsh climbed the stairs, his rifle slung on his shoulder. He came to the door of the major’s room and knocked. But the crashing din of the enemy artillery muffled his knock. Maybe the major had left to join the communications staff, he thought, and pushed open the door to check.
    He was startled to see his commanding officer bent over a radio transmitter. From the doorway he could see that the major was in the act of transmitting on the Morse key and clearly was not aware that he was being watched. Welsh was puzzled; he was not aware that the major had a radio set in his private quarters. Drawn by curiosity, he stepped forward and instantly froze in confusion. He knew that hand! It was the mysterious enemy signaller! When he glanced over the unsuspecting British officer’s shoulder he could see that the transmitter was set to the Japanese frequency.
    Major Ulverstone swung around to see the corporal standing behind him.
    ‘What is it, Corporal Welsh?’ he asked. ‘You should know better than to barge unannounced into the room of your commanding officer, man.’
    Paralysed, Welsh stared at the transmitter. ‘I . . .’ He was at a loss for words as the terrible realisation sank in. The treachery was just too much to comprehend. His commanding officer was a respected member of the British aristocracy. Surely it was not possible that the man could be a traitor.
    ‘What do you want, corporal, spit it out,’ Ulverstone demanded through tight lips.
    ‘Sir, regulations say that we must account for all radios . . .’ Welsh faltered. Suddenly there was a loud bang and he staggered to the side; the next shot toppled him backwards as the pistol bullet smashed through his forehead. He crumpled to the floor, dead.
    Ulverstone leaned over the dead soldier to ensure that he was not breathing. His hand was shaking, but his only regret was that he would not be able to finish his coded message to General Yamashita’s operational headquarters. There was no time to finish the message, he would have to leave straightaway. He dragged the body of the dead signaller across the room and pushed it under the bed. It would not matter if it was discovered in the next day or two by the Japanese. He dismantled the transmitter and placed the parts in a wall cavity he had constructed. He had just finished when he heard the clatter of hobnailed boots on the stairway to his room and a voice shouting for him. He recognised the voice of his second-in-command, who, seeing the door open, hurried into the room.
    ‘Sir, Percival is going ahead with the surrender. We have to get out of here,’ he said, almost breathless. ‘The coms room took a direct hit and we are no longer able to function. I’ve confirmed the last flight out for us as you said, on that civvy seaplane.’ He rattled off the details of the plane and the flight.
    ‘Good show, Captain Lydell,’ Ulverstone replied, gathering his wits. He had been instructed by his Japanese controllers that he was to flee the falling city as he would be more useful to them within the ranks of their enemy, the British.
    Ulverstone snatched the small suitcase filled with a few essentials and followed Lydell down the stairs to the staff car. He took a seat in the back and reflected on the future. He was not completely comfortable in his double role, but he knew the