Behind Mongkut’s unit, engineers brought up a quartet of elephants. They started the task of destroying the border post and repairing the road that led through it. Their orders were quite simple; they were to erase the border so thoroughly that nobody would ever know it had once existed here.
Thakhek Airfield was the primary staging post for the attacks on Thai cities over the last six months. The Farman bombers that had carried out the most devastating of the raids were based far back in central Vietnam. That put them out of range of the Thai aircraft; for the moment, at least. But Thakhek was within range and it was a priority target for the Air Force. Other airfields were being attacked as well, but Thakhek was getting the main effort.
The primary strike was the halfdozen Martin 139 bombers; they formed two neat V-formations at 3,000 meters. Their stately progress through the air was marred by a very light scattering of black spots. The antiaircraft defenses of the base were limited. There were few antiaircraft guns in French Indochina, and it seemed as if the French believed that they could continue attacking Thailand without any form of reprisal.
Unaccountably, the antiaircraft fire stopped as the Martins swung into their final bomb run. The export equivalent of the USAAC B-10B, each Martin 139 carried ten 250-pound bombs. Their bombing showed the inexperience of the crews. Most of the sixty bombs the formation dropped were within the airfield boundary, but the explosions were scattered all over the base. From what Flying Officer Suchart Chalermkiat could see, the vital hangars and runways were undamaged. That left taking the airfield out to him and his fellow Hawk 75N pilots.
As the Martins turned away for the flight home, Suchart pushed the nose of his fighter over and started to dive on the base below. Dive bombing was something every Thai pilot practiced. For the last six months, they had done little else but train for dive bombing missions. Even the Hawk III and 75N fighters had not been exempted. They had had to carry out their dive bombing training in addition to their other duties. Foong Kap Lai 60 was supposed to be the elite fighter squadron of the Thai Air Force, but their Hawk 75Ns had flown on this mission with a 250 pound bomb slung under their bellies. If French fighters showed up, they would jettison their bombs and fight. Otherwise, they were dive bombers. So was every other aircraft the Thais had. Even their Avro 504 trainers were carrying bombs today.
Suchart released his bomb. He saw it curve down into the center of one of the hangars. A smooth pull on the control column brought his Hawk out of its dive. He skimmed over the parking area, a few tens of feet over the grass. To his disappointment, there was only one aircraft in easy sight, a Potez 25. Still, it is a ground attack aircraft and that’s worth taking. Suchart’s four .30-caliber machine guns raked the old biplane. It burst into flames in front of him.
His flight formed up around him and he turned his nose west for home. Once the bombers that had struck the airfields were safely back at base, the fighters could do what they were supposed to do.
Hunt down and kill the enemy.
The maps on the walls showed the developing situation quite clearly. The 11th Infantry Division was north of the Tonle Sap, crossing the border into Cambodia and advancing towards the banks of the Mekong River. So far, they hadn’t experienced any serious opposition; just a few scattered patrols and the unfortunate border guards. Further south, two regiments of the 9th Infantry Division pushed along the road to Battambang. They were having a tougher time. Battambang was the headquarters of the French Indochina Army this far south; it was well-placed to organize a proper defense.
That was exactly what Suriyothai hoped they were doing.
“Your Highness, two farang ladies to see you.” General Arthit Kongsampong seemed slightly surprised at the number of women who were descending on the command center of an army corps. Having the corps commanded by a woman was shocking enough, although the whispers about this woman officer were startling indeed. Two farang women turning up as guests was something quite else.
“Send them in.” Suriyothai looked at the map again. The tiny piece of Laos that lay west of the Mekong was already well on its way to being secured by a battalion of infantry. A regiment of the 11th Infantry was moving west to cover its flank. It was a good start.
“Igrat, Achillea; It has been a long time since we met under these circumstances.”
Igrat smiled broadly and made a creditable attempt at a respectful wai. Suriyothai solemnly returned it. Achillea followed Igrat in. She had grease on her blouse and smudges of oil on her nose and cheeks.
“What happened Achillea?”
“A couple of your men were having trouble with a Hotchkiss thirteen-point-two. Headspace adjustment screw had jammed. I fixed it for them. Just poured boiling water over it and that expanded the metal enough to get the screw loose.”
“Ahh, I see.” Suriyothai had no doubt that Achillea was now politely worshipped by the men she had helped. There was something about the combination of Achillea, oil, grease and guns that men found irresistible. “How did you two get up here and what do you want?”
“Hitched a lift on a supply truck headed this way.” Igrat spoke as if cadging lifts on army supply trucks was the most natural thing in the world. To her, it was. “My father has some information for you. He says that Cordell Hull has softened his position and he is prepared to allow the transfer of American-produced arms to Thailand. They will be supplied from India. But, my father cautions, to consolidate this position, you need to do two things. One is to make visible progress towards a democratic form of government. The other is to kick a Japanese unit around very soon. You need to be seen as an enemy of an enemy.”
Suriyothai nodded. Relief flooded through her. The single greatest obstacle to all her plans was crumbling. “I can promise the kicking around as soon as the Japanese move. That will be when they realize how far we will be advancing into Indochina. They will try and intervene with diplomacy; we will turn them down and they will be more forceful. Then we will demonstrate how foolish that approach will be. What will we get from the Indians?”
“Hawk 75 fighters, the latest model, and DB-7 light bombers. And, direct from America, thirty A-24 dive bombers. They are in compensation for the other aircraft you purchased and did not receive. Now, my father asks, can he have details of your plans for this campaign?”
“No.” Suriyothai was absolutely firm on that. “I haven’t even told me what our plans are yet. Now, what else have you got? Phillip wouldn’t send you all this way just for this.”
“Mostly reports on business involvement in this area. Phillip is investing in India especially and he wants you to be aware of what is going on. He has also picked up word that the Hongs are moving to Bangkok and he is curious as to whether you have a hand in this.” Igrat’s voice took on her own pitch and cadence. “He is, of course, being sarcastic when asking that. But he regards stabilizing the economies of the area as being a very high priority. That also reflects U.S. Government policy, although the decisions were not linked. Both he and Secretary Morgenthau came to the same conclusions for the same reasons.”
“How did he hear about the Hongs?” Suriyothai was genuinely curious. She had thought that information was strictly controlled. Igrat didn’t answer and Suriyothai realized she knew, but wasn’t going to say anything. “Alright. Forget I asked. Tell Phillip this. We’re going to destroy the French Army in Indochina. That is already in hand. Think Sedan. We’re moving one division along the northern part of the Mekong now to deal with any Japanese incursion. The Japanese are desperately short of maneuver units and the most they can throw at us is a single division. We can handle that. Everything else is details and subject to change at short notice.