Operation Blue Sapphire Read online

  OPERATION BLUE SAPPHIRE

  © 2016 David B. Gilmore

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  LACROIX PUBLISHING GROUP

  Edition ISBNs

  Trade Paperback: 978-0-9968744-0-3

  E-book: 978-0-9968744-1-0

  Hardcover: 978-0-9968744-2-7

  First Edition 2016

  This edition was prepared for printing by

  The Editorial Department

  7650 E. Broadway, #308

  Tucson, Arizona 85710

  www.editorialdepartment.com

  Book design by Morgana Gallaway

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  In memory of my Mother

  Calcutta, India

  Early January 1943

  “Jacques, this is a dreadful city.” Simone crushed out her cigarette in the car’s ashtray and tossed the butt out the window. “It stinks of sewage and garbage. It’s too hot! And we even have to be careful where we go to eat so we don’t get sick. I’ll be happy when we leave this place once and for all and move back to Saigon.” Simone du Maurier and her husband, Jacques, were sitting in Jacques’ car near a small café in Calcutta, India, waiting for an American they were scheduled to meet. Contrary to Simone’s complaints, the evening was pleasant and cool.

  “Zacharie and I are thinking of staying on with Hamilton and his firm after the war. There will be lots of money to be made here,” Jacques told her.

  “Then I hope you’ll be happy,” Simone said unpleasantly. After a brief silence she asked, “How did you meet this American and what do you know about him?”

  “Hamilton introduced us. He said he met him through other Americans he knows at his club. This man works for the American War Department as a procurement officer. His responsibilities are to make sure matériel, including weapons, gets to China, and when more things are needed, he places the orders. I think he’s the contact we’ve been looking for. At least I hope so. I don’t like these meetings that go nowhere. There’s too much risk involved. The last thing we need is to be deported, or worse, put in jail. Either could be devastating.”

  “What makes you believe Phillips will be our contact?”

  “As far as Phillips goes, we both got off to a good start. When Hamilton introduced us, he told Phillips that I liked to play tennis. So we had a match. Before we played, I asked him if he wanted to place a friendly wager. It wasn’t much, just a few francs, but he told me he couldn’t afford it. Simone, I let him win. After we played we went for a drink and I told him he should have bet with me. Monsieur Phillips is in a bad way financially. He told me the salary he’s receiving from the War Department isn’t enough. He has a wife who’s pregnant. Her pregnancy isn’t going well and she’s incurred a lot of medical bills. Plus, Phillips’ father recently died, leaving his mother without much money. All of his pay’s being sent back to the States, but it’s short of what he needs. He says they’re even about to lose their house. I think the man is desperate for money. We’ll find out shortly. That’s him now, walking up the street.”

  Jacques got out of the car and quickly approached the American. Simone followed his lead and in no time was at Jacques’ side. “Blaine, good to see you again,” said Jacques, extending his hand. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought my wife along. Blaine, this is my wife, Simone. Simone, this is Blaine Phillips, the American I told you about.”

  Simone extended her hand to Phillips, who eagerly shook it.

  “Blaine, Simone suggested we should take you somewhere nice for dinner. She’s not a fan of the local cuisine and has suggested a good French restaurant that we frequent quite often. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Actually, that sounds terrific. I just got a letter from my wife today and she had a baby girl! It’s our first. A good meal will be a wonderful way to celebrate.”

  “Congratulations! Then it will be our treat. If you want, you can ride with us. We can come get your car after dinner,” said Jacques.

  “Even better. I’m not all that accustomed to Calcutta and don’t want to get lost along the way.”

  “I’m thirsty,” Simone interrupted. “Would anyone care for a soda pop? I know we’re on our way to eat, but I’m parched.”

  Both men declined and Simone went into the small café the three had been standing in front of. A few minutes later she joined them in the car with a cold drink, and Jacques began the drive to the French restaurant.

  The restaurant was always like a breath of fresh air to both Jacques and Simone, as it reminded them of the places they liked to go in Saigon. There were several tables outside on the sidewalk. Situated facing north, they were always in the shade and comfortable. As the three of them entered the restaurant, they were immediately greeted by the owner.

  Rene Ardion had opened the establishment after relocating to Calcutta for business and finding he was displeased with the quality of dining the city had to offer. His restaurant had been a success since the first day the doors opened. Tonight Ardion seemed genuinely pleased to see Jacques and Simone.

  “I’ve brought you a new customer tonight, Rene,” Jacques told his friend. “Do you have a quiet booth where we won’t be disturbed?”

  “I have the perfect table,” said Ardion as he picked up three menus and escorted them to the booth. On the way, Simone made eye contact with Zacharie and Margaux Chevalier, who occupied a booth across the room, but she did not acknowledge them.

  While Simone and Phillips were being seated, Jacques took the owner aside and quietly whispered in his ear. Ardion nodded approvingly and quickly vanished. Within moments he returned with a waiter who set up champagne service for three. Holding up a bottle of Clicquot for Jacques’ approval, Ardion announced, “This is the best we have. The Germans take everything as soon as it’s made, and when our supply of this is gone, we won’t be getting anymore until the war ends.”

  “Don’t apologize, Rene, I completely understand. Clicquot is perfect,” said Jacques.

  When the waiter opened the bottle, Ardion poured a glass. Jacques took a sip, gave his approval, and Ardion filled their glasses. “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, Monsieur Phillips,” he said. “May she grow up in a peaceful world without war.” Looking at the rest of them, he added, “May it all end quickly. Now,” he said, “I will leave you to your celebration. If there is anything, anything at all you need, please ask.”

  After both the waiter and owner left, Phillips leaned toward du Maurier. “Jacques, you shouldn’t have. I wasn
’t expecting this.”

  “I know you weren’t and that’s why I did it. Sometimes the best things in life are the things we don’t expect. Enjoy the wine, it’s my pleasure, I’m happy to do this for you.”

  “Well, thank you very much. I do appreciate it,” replied Phillips.

  After they drank a toast to the birth of Phillips’ daughter and placed their dinner orders, Phillips said, “You mentioned something to me yesterday about Indochina. My curiosity’s up. What do you have in mind?”

  “Blaine,” said Jacques, laughing. “No offence, but you Americans get right to the point, don’t you? Relax and enjoy the champagne and your dinner. We’ll have plenty of time after we eat to discuss business and what I have in mind.”

  “No offence taken. You’re quite right,” Phillips replied agreeably.

  “Where are you from? I know you’re from the States, but where, and what kind of work did you do there before the war?” asked Simone.

  “I’m from Detroit, Michigan. Dearborn, actually. Before the war I worked for, and had an executive position at, Ford Motor Company. I have a bad knee from playing football at U of M—that’s the University of Michigan—so I’m not eligible for the service. There was a position with the War Department that was open and I took it. I thought I’d have a desk job in Detroit or Washington. I never imagined I’d end up in India.”

  “It’s a dreary place. We never thought this would be our home, either,” said Simone.

  “And home is?” inquired Phillips.

  “Saigon.”

  “You’re not from France?”

  “Jacques attended university there, but I’ve never been. We were both born in Saigon and grew up there,”

  “Are you going back after the war?”

  “As soon as we can,” Jacques told him. “As you can surmise, Simone doesn’t like it here. Calcutta is just a safe haven for us until the war’s over. We had no idea what Saigon would be like under Japanese occupation. We had an opportunity to leave and did so.”

  “I agree with Simone. Calcutta isn’t the garden spot of Asia, but the winter climate is good, and it’s good for my knee. Plus I have a beautiful house and more servants than I know what to do with. I think I work harder than they do, just trying to find things to keep them busy.” Phillips smiled. “There are probably worse places to live. Would I move here after the war? Probably not, but it isn’t the end of the world.”

  Their conversation continued throughout dinner. Each party tried to assess the other and gain as much information as possible. When dinner concluded, Jacques forewent his usual cognac when the waiter offered and instead ordered coffee for the three of them. Then he took his cigar case out of his coat pocket and offered one to Phillips, who gladly accepted.

  Passing his lighter to Phillips, Jacques thought carefully before beginning to outline the reason for their meeting. “Blaine, what is it exactly that you do for the War Department? I know you place orders for things and make sure they get to China, but exactly what kinds of things? Unless, of course, it’s classified and you can’t talk about it.”

  “Oh, no, what I do isn’t classified. Mainly hardware, weapons, ammunition, those sorts of things. Everything from ammunition to radio parts. It all comes across my desk.”

  “I see. And you can order anything?” asked Jacques.

  After reflecting for a moment, Phillips said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, and I’ll see if I can help?”

  “Blaine, Simone and I are in need of weapons. We need guns. Rifles, handguns, machine guns. We also want radios, mortars, and explosives.”

  Phillips stiffened in his chair as if coming to attention, “Just for you and Simone?”

  “No. Blaine, we initially need enough weapons for two hundred men. Later, we’ll need more.”

  Phillips eyes widened. “What are you going to do with these guns, and where are you going to use them? Weapons for two hundred men? Are you starting a private army?”

  “Men and women. And yes, we hope this is the start of a very large army.” Simone answered in a forceful voice.

  “You see, Blaine, we have many contacts in Saigon and in the north, all over Indochina, in fact. Now, the Japanese are virtually unopposed in Indochina. We want to reverse that and begin a new front there. The time is right and we have people who are willing to fight a guerrilla war against the Japanese. Disrupt their supply lines, communications, and food. Harass them at every opportunity, that’s what we want to do. The network’s in place. I know, in this war, two hundred people doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s just a beginning, and they’re all very dedicated. Each one knows ten more who are willing to take up the cause. Once equipped, the number will surge to two thousand and from there, easily four or five thousand. Simone and I are hoping you can help us.”

  “If I was able to get you the weapons, radios, et cetera, can you get them to Indochina? There are mountains and jungles to cross, not to mention the Japanese Army. I’m sure they aren’t going to give you a pass.”

  “It will be very difficult, but yes, we can. However, the less you know about that part of the operation, the better. I can’t risk compromising our network,” answered Jacques.

  “How do I know you’re not just going to turn around and sell them on the black market, say for example, to some Indian independence movement?”

  “You have my word on it, plus, when the time is right, I’ll introduce you to the ones in Indochina who are involved,” Jacques assured Phillips.

  “Let’s just hypothesize for a moment. Say I do get you the matériel you want, and you’re successful in harassing the Japanese, even on a small scale. What do we, we being the United States, get in return?”

  “Intelligence, my dear Blaine. Intelligence that can help your Air Corps accurately bomb Japanese installations. It will be like having your own eyes on the ground. Just like an artillery spotter. We can take all the guesswork out of it for you. That, in turn, will reduce the number of lost aircraft and save the lives of your pilots. Good intelligence can be worth its weight in gold. A great deal more than a few machine guns and radios. Plus, we’ll be opening up another front. One that so far doesn’t exist. Think about it, Blaine. Every time our group harasses the Japanese, they will have to commit troops to chase us back into the mountains. They’ll have to use resources they could have allocated elsewhere. Even on a small scale, it will be something else they’ll have to deal with. As the movement grows, the harassment will increase, and they’ll have to send more troops into the field.

  “Additionally, there’s the psychological factor. We’ll hit them in the country and in the city. What once was a safe haven for them will now be a minefield. Both enlisted men and officers will have to think twice about getting on a bus or even riding in a car. They’ll be wondering, as they’re eating lunch or sipping a drink, if the restaurant or bar they’re sitting in is going to suddenly blow up. I know the Japanese won’t just go away, but our harassment will have a bad effect on their morale. They weren’t invited, Blaine, and we want to make them pay the price for crashing the party.”

  Phillips thought for a moment, taking in the turn of the conversation, then looked Jacques in the eye. “You said you had men.” He paused to shift his gaze to Simone and added, “and women in the north. What do you propose to do with them once they’re armed?”

  “In the north, in addition to making life miserable for the Japanese, we’re going to put an end, once and for all, to Nguyen Sinh Chung, better known now as Ho Chi Minh, and his communist followers,” replied Jacques.

  “So, what you’re telling me is that you want to start a two-front war in Indochina, one against the Japanese and one against the communists? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Blaine, the communists aren’t going to go away anytime soon,” Simone replied. “Now that they’ve seen a weakness, with France falling to Germany as quickly as it did, they’ll only get stronger. And when the Japanese are gone, the communists will be there to pi
ck up the pieces. If they aren’t dealt with now, they never will be. They’re like a case of frostbite on a toe. Deal with it, as unpleasant as it may be, by cutting off the toe, or wait until gangrene sets in and eventually cure it by taking off the leg. The communists are no different. We either cut off the toe or wait until the war is over and try taking the leg.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Phillips said in disbelief.

  “Very serious. We know that when the war is over, it won’t be like it was before. Those days are gone, and all Jacques and I will have of them is our memories. No, Monsieur Phillips, when the war is over, we want to return to something better. I’m not sure if France will be there to protect us or not. We may have to get along without her. That’s why it’s imperative that the problem with the communists be resolved now.”

  Jacques watched Phillips as the American took a puff on his cigar and stirred sugar into his cup of strong, black coffee before returning to the conversation. “I understand your concerns about the communists,” Phillips said, “but I can’t be responsible on my own for allowing you to start a civil war with them. The intelligence you offer would be of great value to my government, but I don’t think the State Department will go along with the idea. Matter of fact, I know they won’t.”

  “Think about this, Blaine. In the years to come, when your daughter is say, sixteen or seventeen, and studying this war in school, what if she comes home one evening and asks you, ‘What did you do during the war?’ Do you want to tell her you filled out request forms, or do you want to be able to tell her you helped stop the Japanese and the communists in Indochina? Before you answer, think about all the implications.”

  “Jacques, there’s merit to everything you have planned, but I’ll need to send it up the chain of command. I’ll do that and see what happens.”

  “Blaine, if your government is working with the communists in Indochina, like they are with the Soviets, there’s no telling what they’ll do. However, there’s another option, an option that they wouldn’t need to know about.”