Spontoon Island
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Extracts from a Diary
by Amelia Bourne-Phipps
-edited by Simon Barber-
  1 February, 1937 to 5 February, 1937


Monday February 1st, 1937

Back to work with a vengeance; our Tutors say we can have the time off to Macao but will have to make up the work, in the Easter holidays if necessary. Maria whispers that Miss Wildford had expressly warned her against ever going to China, which is in the middle of a Japanese invasion and a civil war at the same time. But that was not what Miss Wildford was worried about, Maria thinks. It must be something rather horrible if our Tutors want to keep us clear of it, knowing what we have faced up to on Cranium Island and Krupmark.

    All morning we spent over at Superior Engineering, some of it doing drudge work cleaning up engines before their top mechanics start work, but some of it looking over rather interesting arrivals. There was a Severski twin-engined “mail plane” from Vostok that has variable pitch propellers that it can not only feather in flight but slam into reverse pitch - just the thing for landing on an icy Vostok runway with the wheels locked and skidding over the ice. Then, we have seen similar technology if not so close up; that new model Balalaika had the same design by all accounts, and could swivel the engines through ninety degrees as well.

    No sooner had we washed the oil out of our fur than we were back at Songmark tangling with the second-years in self defence classes. This time we had our work cut out (and risked having fur pulled out) as they were teaming up two then three to one against us! They learn teamwork and we get a real test of our abilities. I recall Mrs. Fairburn-Sykes telling us that in a real confrontation when outnumbered, one should try to escape rather than fight - but if unavoidable, try and decisively demolish the first one to come at you in a way that spoils the morale of the rest. Not wanting to inflict any permanent hard even on Red Dorm, that was an approach we could not use today.

    It was just my luck to be teamed with Florence Farmington’s dorm - the one which shares Prudence’s tastes, except for their leader. Florence is still highly embarrassed with having the others absolutely worship her, willing to do absolutely anything for her (which is itself the problem.) They are an athletic bunch indeed, and I ended up with quite a few bumps and bruises. At three-to-one odds I lost the final bout; though I threw Florence flat on her back so hard it knocked the wind out of her, the other two were fired by vengeance and had me in a double nelson hold before their beloved leader finished bouncing off the floor.
 
    Moral: stay clear of three-to-one odds, unless you are better armed and get a chance to use your weapons first. But our Tutors have been telling us that for years already. Molly’s idea of “self defence” starts at the maximum range of a T-Gew, which is accurate at about a mile for fur-sized targets but could reliably put a hole in a boat or vehicle at twice the range. As she says to our Tutors in her sweetest available modes, she believes only in self-defence these days - but usually ruins it by adding the best form of defence is attack, and the best form of attack is surprise. No wonder they never let her carry any ammunition on gate patrol.

    A letter for me, from the British consulate! Well, using their notepaper at least. Major Hawkins invited me to Song Sodas tomorrow evening, if I am free. For once, Miss Devinski did not seem inclined to bite my tail off when I asked for a Pass. She signed it, and recommended I listen to the Major. Could it be there is one Euro our dear Tutor actually approves of me meeting? There is a first time for everything.


Tuesday February 2nd, 1937

A busy day on the sporting front - just to make sure nobody feels left out of the teams that will be upholding Songmark’s name at the weekend, today we all practiced in all four events - Miss Wildford adding that my dorm needed the practice, as we were skipping the hard work at the weekend. Molly really should be in the team, she can run like the wind and came first in the orienteering that for a change we staged across South Island. Running flat out up the trails on Mount Tomboabo while navigating with map and compass is quite a challenge; one cannot stop to look at the map yet the moment one’s attention leaves the footpath it is sure to put a loop of vine or tree root right in front of one’s paws.
 
    For the gymnastics we went over after lunch to Moon Island, where next to the firing range there is that training course with log walls, hoops and suchlike. We have thrown ourselves and our dorm-mates over those from all directions, in the rain and dark, with packs and without them. This is the first time we used the top of the wall as a gymnastics bench - it is a long way down, and it certainly concentrates the mind. The sand pit at the bottom of the rope slide was handy for practicing somersaults and similar showy manoeuvres, and just to round things off we had more rope climbing than a hand on a sailing vessel sees most watches.

    Exhausting stuff all round - we were very glad to drag ourselves into the shower and catch half an hour resting flat out on the beds. Maria fell fast asleep in about two minutes; she is the first of us to have mastered that art one sees in soldiers and sailors. Of course an Adventuress in the field has to keep watchful and not nod off except when it is safe to do so - but being able to grab half-hour naps is a very useful talent. We never used to appreciate the sheer luxury of sleep, till we discovered it was not a default or a right but a luxury. And to think I used to complain back at Saint Winifred’s when we had to draw the curtains on a warm Summer evening and “lights out” by nine-thirty! It is a pity one cannot save sleep up or export it for another to use, or I would write back to my old school and ask them to send a week’s worth apiece over here.

    Having brushed, groomed and changed into my best Songmark uniform I headed out to Song Sodas, glad we need no passes to go out in the evenings now. I could head out to Casino Island and spend all evenings watching the (un) dress rehearsals at the Coconut Shell or the other tourist venues, if I wanted. Any of us could, but to the bafflement of the first-years hardly anybody does.
 
    It seems Miss Devinski does know of Major Hawkins; there was a private room put aside for us and he was awaiting me in it. The rooms are not available to the general public, and having a Songmark girl meet gentlemen there un-chaperoned is usually too open to misinterpretation (especially now the Ave Argentum are around.) He is a rather nice old bulldog gent, but one does not get to the rank of Major including the Great War without being a lot more than that.

    Major Hawkins was as polite as ever; he mentioned he had been keeping an interested eye on what he could see of my career - and asked if I wished to be known as Lady Allworthy from now on. I put him right on that score; Leon Allworthy probably dropped that title on me as a cruel joke. I hardly know whether I should think of the other alternative; I happened to be the only socially suitable girl on Krupmark he really could have married in other circumstances and he wanted to do the right thing for me.
 
    Anyway, I brought the Major up to date on some things that have not been in the Daily Elele; finishing with our “testing trip” to Macao. I did not say why we are going or who is authorising it; quite truthfully I pointed out Songmark Third-years go out on a lot of trips putting their experience into practice. If Major Hawkins is anything like as sharp as I believe, he can put the pieces together. I am technically a Spontoon Citizen right now and if I happen to be working for any Government it is Spontoon’s own, via Mr. Sapohatan.
 
    He nodded and sat back, contemplative over one of those strange Mixtecan chocolate and chilli sodas that are a speciality of the house. Almost idly he pointed out that if the claimant to the title who takes it off me is typical of Leon and Susan’s family, the tenants of Barrow-in-Furryness are likely to be sorry for the exchange. He added that a true Secret Agent would hate being thrust into the limelight (not that I like the idea myself much.) On the other paw, supposing I really do get invested with the title, various folk will be happy to quash the charges against me in return for my influence. It is rather a chicken-and-egg situation though; until I am cleared I cannot get to England to clear my name!

    He did warn me about Macao, and advised me not to get into any official trouble over there. People unofficially vanish from their prisons, never to be seen again. He rather confirmed that Songmark graduates are “in demand” but he has never heard of anyone managing to successfully entrap one. I hardly knew whether to mention Henrika or not, but plumped for caution and kept my snout shut.

    As to anything I might do with the Allworthy shipyards, he had one reassuring thing to say. Provided we are not actually at war with the customer at the time the contract gets signed, it is a long-standing tradition to sell anybody anything they want - provided they are Euros. Back in the last century it was perfectly “respectable” to arm the Paraguayan dictator President Lopez who made war in all directions and decimated his own population, but letting Natives buy anything but worthless and tenfold overpriced Birmingham “trade” shotguns was absolutely forbidden.
 
    So, if the Direwolf wants to lead a pack of submarines into battle I can place the order to build them. It is awfully hard to believe, but it is looking as if such things could happen. The difference is timing; swapping over updated equipment as they want is a matter of some weeks in repair harbours, but building ships takes years. A similarly sized replacement or “Daughter of Direwolf” might be just about ready by 1941, and the way the world is looking right now, it might get overtaken by events. I recall in my Brother’s stamp collection some never-issued issues that were meant to be used by various White Russian armies and provisional governments; by the time the stamps had been designed, paid for and printed in Paris the customers were no longer in business. *

    Back to Songmark, feeling slightly better for the reassurance about being able to put work towards the Allworthy shipbuilding firms. Thinking of rush orders, we are groaning ourselves under the weight of all the extra work our Tutors are piling on us - they are making their displeasure definitely known, but stopping short of actually forbidding us to go. Hopefully we can catch up on sleep on the road to Macao!

*Editor’s note: See the Denikin and Kolchak Siberian provisional Government issues of 1918-21 (Stanley Gibbons or Michel catalogue, European section). The Editor’s collection has a used stamp with full postmark on partial envelope, despite the official story being “prepared for use but never issued.” So there!


Thursday February 4th, 1937

A busier two days than ever, no time to write yesterday as last night we were doing fuel calculations till we heard Miss Devinski call for lights-out. We are starting to dream in numbers, as Susan de Ruiz says she always does. Mind you, she is the only person I have ever met who doodles calculus equations. Our Tutors had the idea of putting her to coach that Mad Scientist shrew Alpha Rote - or visa versa, it hardly matters to the Tutors as long as at least one of the students benefits.

    Today we were on Moon Island on the firing ranges, much to Molly’s delight. Certainly it is a long way from the decorous paper targets a first-year starts off with; we spent most of the morning jumping round corners to face a varied number of life-sized figures, of which only the ones wearing armbands were fair game. Molly lost some points by emptying her magazine into one of the “bystanders” - her claim that the genuine villains would not go around blatantly uniformed, fell on deaf ears that had nothing to do with poor ear protection.

    I was given a treat today - my third Webley Mark VI .455 revolver, this one officially loaned to me by the staff at the ranges. I certainly hope not to lose this one like the last two on Krupmark - it is heavy but jolly accurate for a revolver, and I am quite used to maintaining that model. There is also the box of  “hunting shells” still sitting in my tin trunk that I have been warned are illegal almost everywhere, but Krupmark and Macao seem to be places nobody checks up on that. There had to be advantages somewhere.

    Molly almost lost marks offering to grind down the hammer so I can “fan” it; some things look much better in Hollywood cowboy films than in real life, and if I wanted to randomly spray lead around I would prefer one of those Bergmann “trench brooms” with a magazine to match. Not the sort of thing a lady carries in her handbag, and the old violin case is becoming just a little clichéd these days.

    It is awhile since we had any extensive self-defence lessons on Moon Island, but hardly a coincidence that our big trip is coming up. We did not need this particular training before the Aleutians, as the climate was the trouble and not the locals. Helen and Maria were practicing with the sort of grim determination one only really expects in wartime - Maria having researched Macao quite thoroughly by now, and signed for various official-looking sheaves of Diplomatic notes a junior official came round with from the Italian consulate.

    For a change, tonight we are excused gate guard. One of the second-year dorms has been “promoted” to it; whether they will be happy with their new responsibilities at three tomorrow morning we shall find out. I do not keep track of the other years’ points; either they are the top of the league and are being given responsibility early, or are at the bottom and being given it as an extra fatigue duty. I suspect the former; at Songmark our Tutors instil in us the need to be vigilant and not walk around brooding with a chip on each shoulder.

    (Later) Back to Song Sodas, this time meeting Violobe, who seems to have got the job of go-between with us and Post Box Nine. She handed over our papers and tickets; Lady Amelia Allworthy and party, first-class from Tillamook to Macao, with convincing looking used tickets and receipts all the way from England! The used parts we might want to get stolen, assuming folk over there will be suspicious, which they probably will. We also have flights booked to Tillamook tomorrow, including Adele. Fortunately the local shamans there have agreed to treat her; Clear-Skies Yakan persuaded them that Adele is innocent of what she is cursed for, and that has piqued the Red Indian shamans like an Artillery officer being told his shells were falling on the wrong front line. At least Adele is not wanted in the sports trials against the Ave Argentum this weekend; the rumour had it that she would be most useful if we had had to exchange one player a team with our rivals. The best bit about that would be the inevitable accident would be obviously not her fault - it would just Happen, as things Happen to her.

    It is two and a half years since I saw Tillamook - just as it is a very different Amelia who will be arriving in Macao than me, I have changed an awful lot since last I saw the pine and redwood forests slipping away into the mists as the boat pulled out on the way to Spontoon for my first arrival. I left friends like Angelica and Mabel to finish their final year at Saint Winifred’s, and by the time they did that - well, my first year here was eventful. It looks like my third one is set to be so, as well!


Friday February 5th, 1937

We were very glad of the second-years taking our gate guard last night - our Tutors really put us through the wringer today, and we needed all the rest we could get. Six hours on the Moon Island range! We got through more ammunition in the past two days than we have burned in the rest of the term combined; hopefully we will not fire off any more before we are next on Moon Island, but the word “hopefully” does not feature large in the Songmark philosophy.

    A rather rushed final afternoon, Maria signing to return all the highly secret material back to the Consulate’s clerk (not than many Spontoonies speak Italian) and our valises being packed with suitable outfits. I am taking my Rachorska dress, but nobody else is - a secretary could hardly afford it, let alone a maid. Molly has only the clothing “suitable to her station” which depresses her immensely - I keep telling her it is all just disguise, and we expect to have our cases searched thoroughly by people with various motives. Having a lady’s maid carrying a trench knife and a collection of stick-grenades in her valise is a little out of character, unless of course her mistress was the Head of Saint T’s.

    (Later) Our bags are packed, the scheduled Tillamook flight is due in half an hour, and our stomachs are full of “butterflies” at the thought of this trip. Adele has the easy bit; she has a return to Tillamook where we will hopefully meet her - or if we are not back there by the 18th, she returns alone. That would be unlucky for her - and it would mean something unlucky happened to the rest of us.
 
    Still, we make our own luck at Songmark, as our Tutors frequently tell us - now to find out if we can make it at Macao!


(And they found out, in “Dire Decisions”…)
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