12.1 Second Infiltration

“What is this?” enquired the Minister of Defence, Deccan Sanders, to find a note on his table.

Secretary of State Chris Seamus said, “A letter from the Commonwealth Relations Office in Colombo in response to a letter from the Maldive Government demanding removal of Major W W Phyllis from the post as political officer and complaints about him.

“A situation has exploded from British keep of a base in the south and natives beginning to benefit from it to enjoy better standard of living, besides vaccines and medicines. The High Commission in Ceylon and the Commonwealth Office are keen to forward more aid to this newly formed state in areas of health, education, communication and transport, including printing a new batch of passports to serve the citizens of the new state. Some in the Foreign Office seem to support this secession and forming of a new state separate from the Maldive Islands and to a certain extent masterminded by Major Phyllis.”

“Who is Major Phyllis?”

“We don’t know about him,” replied the Secretary, “He is not one of us. I just happen to know he was channelled from MI6. He is a tea estate owner in Ceylon. Far East Station in Singapore is asking to divert course. They do not believe supporting this new state could be helpful.”

“Who is Portal?” asked the minister.

“He’s appointed as the Undersecretary of State for Commonwealth Relations. Here is the problem, sir,” he passed a photocopy of a handwritten letter.

Minister Deccan Sanders glanced at it for a long moment and said, “Get me Richard Whyte.”

“Minister!” asked Richard Whyte on the phone.

“Major Phyllis, tell me about him.”

“Well, we are going through this as we speak. Major Phyllis was not directed to get involved with this independence movement which we are aware of. Director of Army Staff Duties, Major General Innes, asked me to send a political officer to observe.”

“I have a letter in front of me on which this self-proclaimed leader demands British asylum to facilitate a motion towards an independent state and Major Phyllis got it granted somehow. It’s too obvious of a connection to see in it or not. Pull him out!”

“Minister!” uttered Whyte blankly.

“Pull him out!” repeated the minister.

“Very well, I will call him back.”

Major Phyllis returned to Colombo on 12^th March 1959 and missed the ceremony of the official declaration of the United Suvadive Islands. He immediately entered a probe to clear his name.

By Private Notice, Members of the Parliament directed questions to which C J M Portal answered among others.

“It is obvious that Major Phyllis is a man of some parts but isn’t it equally obvious that right from the beginning there should have been a British political resident at Gan rather than give the impression that the Service Departments were taking on political responsibilities?”

Portal replied, “I have given the correct title that Major Phyllis has while on his duties in Gan that although he is in close contact with and assists the Royal Air Force in all ways – he is responsible to the High Commissioner in Colombo. To that extent, I suppose, he could be regarded as a political liaison officer.”

“What request has been received by the United Kingdom for recognition of the United Suvadive Islands?”

Portal’s written reply, “Requests for recognition have been received from persons acting on behalf of the inhabitants of Addu Atoll, Suvadiva and Fua Mulak in the Maldive Islands. Her Majesty’s Government regard this as an internal affair of the Maldive Islands. In accordance with the Protection Agreement made in 1953, they do not interfere in such affairs. That Agreement which was reaffirmed in 1957 is binding on both parties. Therefore, the question of recognition in this case hardly arise.”

 

“Malikurva!” Charlie Longbridge was kicked in the teeth. He reached the radio and listened carefully. It was a woman. “Dhekunu Mala calling Malikurva!” He was cruising the channels again and left on a frequency where he heard a voice few months ago.

“Malikurva receiving you,” Sayye Saeed replied, “Carry on, Thirty-Two!”

“My party is occupied. A long weekend. Any news for me?” asked Mariam Mala.

“What do you mean a long weekend?”

Charlie Longbridge realised they were speaking the local language and tried to grasp where it was coming from. A voice booming from the speakers left him void. He was on his fifteenth beer. Still there was a way to find the distance of the radio if not the location. If he engaged the vessels and the vehicles, he could get a direction and a position too.

“Easter Holidays!” Charlie Longbridge grasped it was coming from Addu Atoll. There could be no party in the region celebrating Easter within three thousand miles besides the base.

“Of course, it is a long weekend. Villae folks would be drinking. I probably missed it. I think, you still have time. Today is Sunday. I want you to get in there, Thirty-Two,” there was silence and he spoke enthusiastically, “Go in and get me that package.”

“What package?” asked Mala.

“You sent me a picture, remember!”

“Yes, I remember. Do you want me to remove the whole thing?”

“Exactly…”

And she felt a slight movement behind her back. Mala turned to find a girl with blue eyes standing behind her. It shocked her more than it did the girl. She was staring into very blue eyes. This fourteen-year-old girl realised that Mala was terrified. Mala could not utter a word. This young girl ran out of the door. Next second, she caught a sight out of the window as the girl ran across the grass into the woods in a faint blue frock.

“Something came up! I’m out,” Mala cut off the radio, closed the window and stepped out. Locked the door and left to the bank to cross the stream.

Habib and Shakir sat on the wrought iron chairs on the patio. Samara was busy setting the table for sunset breakfast. Mala came hurriedly with a pale face.

“What happened, Deeni?” asked Shakir.

“I saw a girl inside vihali with blue eyes! She was listening right behind me! Sparkling eyes! And she stood four feet away from me!”

Samara returned, “That is Naurus. She was born to the English. She lives in Odessele, other side of the wal.” Samara referred to the wooded islet enclosed by the stream.

Footloose Habib cracked a grin quite sarcastically. It was the first time Shakir saw an expression on his face. Habib quickly hid that face and returned to normal blank.

“Who is her father?” asked Mala.

“Who knows!” chuckled Samara, “Her mother spread with the English in Hankendé during the war.”

Shakir laughed out loud this time.

Habib asked, “What did Saeed say?”

“He wants to grab that package,” Mala replied, “I think you should call.”

“It is too late. Sunday is over.”

“Though, tomorrow is a holiday. Easter Monday.”

“Is it?” thought Habib, “In that case we still have time. I will call him after breakfast. We must keep watch from now on.”

“Malikurva!” called Habib, “Thirty-One speaking. Can you repeat what you said?”

Charlie Longbridge remained silent but now he was thinking it was one of the ‘bigaloo’ boats that toured to neighbouring countries. He spurned the idea of reporting to a senior or record a conversation.

Saeed advised, “A vessel hired from Olhudu Kara will reach Romeo shortly to fend off unrest. I cannot give further detail now but keep it in mind.”

“Alright. We will try our luck.”