1941, Friday 05 December;
The summary was finished, the facts (as much as they had) laid bare. All the senior officers and the aides had left the room, leaving just the two of them. They looked at each other across the table, Phillips speaking first.
"Winston and the Chiefs of Staff have finally done it. After all this time, you've got the green light. It's your call, Tiger. I can sail out and then turn around and come back, and not start a war, but when you move into Thailand, we're committed. And if you're wrong, Winston will hang you out to dry, be sure of it. The terms of launching Matador are pretty clear: you have to be certain they are going to attack us. The occupation of Thailand on its own isn't sufficient. Any war with Japan and the Americans not in it would simply be a disaster for us all."
"Yes, Tom, it's a frightful decision But I'm convinced it's the only way we can put up a good show in defending ourselves. I'm just thankful they made the decision when they did. I honestly feared they wouldn't agree to it. But before I make the definitive call, how do you feel about supporting me?"
"Well, as we've just heard, significant Japanese Naval forces are on the move south, along with a large number of transports, with a further considerable number of transports sheltering in Cam Ranh Bay. But as yet we've seen no movement from any of the carriers in Japan. I'd expect a couple of them at least. So what are you proposing, Tiger?"
"Execute Operation Picador. Sail tomorrow, and be in an advantageous position, and I would go Sunday morning - or not: depends on what happens in the next 24 hours. If we have called it wrong, all I'll have done is sent over my SOE agents, and they will be laying low, while you can turn back and call it a fleet exercise. But if we're right, and I go Sunday morning, you're already in place to help me with any invasion forces."
"In principle, that works for me. But what air cover do you guarantee me, Tiger, if I go, regardless of whether you launch Matador or not?"
"Tom, Keith says he can provide a continuous CAP of four Hurricanes during the daylight hours, up to 60 miles out at sea from Kota Bharu down to Trengganu, and 100 miles seawards south of that. In addition, he can provide ASW flights from Kota Bharu southwards. He'll maintain air reconnaissance over the Gulf of Siam as far north as the line Surat Thani and Phu Quoc, weather permitting. As far north as Singora, if a Japanese invasion force tries to land, he will hit it with everything he has. You have my word: he will deliver on all of that."
"OK, that's fine, Tiger. But have you thought of this: what if my presence out there puts them off, and they simply land in Thailand? Where does that leave you?"
"Frankly, Tom, have you any idea how many nights I've laid awake thinking of that? It's given me bloody nightmares. If I enter Thailand, and there is no war, my head would be on the block. But I keep asking myself this: why would Japan go to all that trouble to do that? They'll just give advance warning of what's to come. You've heard the intelligence reports, the really secret ones. War is coming, it's just a matter of when."
Phillips stood up, picked his cap up off the table, put it on, adjusted its rake in the mirror, and turned to Gort, hand out to shake. Gort rose and stepped forward, shaking hands. "OK, Tiger, I'll do it. If I get a wriggle on, I can sail at 5am, hmm, maybe earlier, yes, earlier the better, I think. I need to put some things in place. Palliser will remain behind; he can take care of things here while I'm gone. I want the air cover agreement written down and a copy signed by you in my hands before I go. It's not that I don't trust you, but for my own benefit, should something go terribly wrong. I'll shake hands and wish you well now, Tiger, we might not have the chance later. Good luck, old boy!"
"Thank you, Tom, I'm grateful for your support. Yes, you'll have the letter directly. I'll have it typed up as soon as we finish. And if things do turn out as expected, good hunting to you, and the best of luck."
Phillips found Palliser in a side room They walked back to the car, and once inside, Phillips told him of the agreement, and Palliser's forthcoming role. Meantime, Gort had both Percival and Park back in the room and quietly explained the agreement to them.
Afterwards, orders given, letter written and dispatched, Lord Gort sat back, a large scotch in his glass, and wondered again if what he was doing was the right thing. The relief he'd felt when London had agreed to giving him authority had taken a weight off his mind, while at the same time it had given his confidence a boost. He considered why it was quite so important to him that he had felt the need to press Winston for the authority on launching Matador. How much easier to have just left it as a suggestion, and if war happened, shrug the shoulders and say what could he do. But he remembered the despair he'd felt in France, waiting on decisions from Billotte and Gamelin, and the interference from Churchill at that time. That, and the conviction that he had done the right thing in the end by ordering the retreat of the BEF to Dunkirk, had convinced him. He had to be his own man; the decision would be his to make.
Quite how the Chiefs had managed to get Churchill's agreement was something he briefly wondered over. Perhaps Phillips's ruse in dressing it all up into ‘Bullring' helped. But more pressing needs quickly put that to the back of his mind. What he wasn't really appreciative of was that while the decision was now in his hands, Churchill and the Chiefs would now worry that he got the decision right. And the possible consequences: the transatlantic cables between Churchill and the President, and the discussions between Roosevelt and his Joint Chiefs of Staff, to get American support for this had only delivered a vague verbal nod, nothing in writing. It was as good as it was going to get, but just how good was that?