The captain soon proved to be a fairly typical example of what we had to expect. After three other would-be surveyors had been returned, together with a dozen or more candidates for other jobs, the Ministry of Public Works had changed its tactics. Instead of sending the applicant in person, it would send his name, together with an imposing account of his alleged qualifications, certified as correct by the Minister of Public Works. This left Gedge with the choice of accepting the applicant unseen at the Ministry’s valuation, or of questioning the valuation, and thus, by inference, the Minister’s honesty.
In the end, both sides had to compromise. The Ministry promised to stop sending half-witted gangsters who had been found unemployable even by Sundanese standards. Gedge agreed to take on six Sundanese officers with experience of administrative duties as “liaison managers.” The real jobs were filled, as Gedge had always intended they should be, partly by re-engagement, partly by promotion and partly by bringing in new men, Asian and European, from outside.
I think that we all thought that he had made a good bargain. Friendly relations with the Government had been preserved. His own authority had been unimpaired. His employers’ interests had been safeguarded. The work could now go forward smoothly to its completion (as per specification and on schedule) and to the moment when he would stand bare-headed in the breeze above the eastern spillway accepting the President’s congratulations. Permission had arrived from the contractors’ head office to debit the salaries of six useless Sundanese officers to the contingency account. All that remained now was to see if the Government kept faith with him.
In their own tortuous way they did keep faith. They did not send half-witted gangsters. They sent intelligent ones.
They arrived all together, four majors and two captains, by special plane from the capital, and began by complaining that the Chief Engineer was not there to welcome them officially. They then announced that they would wait until he arrived. I was with Gedge when he got the message.
He sighed. “I see. Prima donnas. They mustn’t get away with that. Would you mind going over, Steve?”
“Me?” Strictly speaking, it was no concern of mine. Labour relations were the contractors’ business. I was there to represent the firm of consulting engineers who had planned the project, and to see that the contractors did the work according to our specifications. But I had always got on well with Gedge and could see that he was genuinely concerned.
“If someone senior doesn’t go they’ll lose face,” he explained; “and you know I can’t afford to start off badly with these people.”
“All right. But it’ll cost you a couple of large Scotches.”
“Done. And if you go right away I’ll make it three.”
I was not to know that he was, in a way, saving my life.
I found the new arrivals standing in the shade by the radio shack, glowering into space. The jeep drivers who had been sent to collect them looked terrified. I got out of my jeep and walked over.
They were all very smartly turned out, their uniform shirts spotless and their pistol holsters gleaming. I was a bit impressed.
As I approached, they turned and stiffened up. One of the majors took a pace forward and nodded curtly. He was a slim, handsome little man with the flat features and high cheekbones of the southern Sundanese, and a tight, arrogant mouth. His English was almost perfect.
“Mr. Gedge?”
“No. My name’s Fraser. I’m the resident consulting engineer. You are…?”
“Major Suparto. I am glad to meet you, Mr. Fraser.” We shook hands and he turned to the group behind him. “I introduce Majors Idrus, Djaja and Tukang, Captains Kerani and Emas.” There were more curt nods as he turned to me again.
“We had expected Mr. Gedge to give us the honour of welcoming us on our arrival, Mr. Fraser.”
“You are certainly welcome, Major. Unfortunately, Mr. Gedge is rather busy just now, but he would like to see you gentlemen in his office.”
Major Suparto appeared to consider this. Then, suddenly, he smiled. It was such a charming, good-humoured smile that it deceived me for a moment; as it was meant to. I nearly smiled back.
“Very well, Mr. Fraser. We will accept you as Mr. Gedge’s deputy.” The smile went as suddenly as it had arrived. “You do not think that if we went to his office immediately he would be busy merely in order to keep us waiting?”
“We haven’t much time here for protocol, Major,” I said; “but you will have no reason to complain of discourtesy.”
“I hope not.” He smiled again. “Very well. Then we can go. Perhaps I may drive with you, Mr. Fraser.”
“Certainly.”
The rest followed in the other jeeps. As we went, I explained the geography of the camp, and stopped at a point on the track from which they could all get a view of the dam. There were exclamations of wonder from the jeeps behind us, but Major Suparto did not seem greatly interested. As I drove on, however, I saw him examining me out of the corners of his eyes. Then he spoke.
“What is a liaison manager, Mr. Fraser?”
“I think it’s a new appointment.”
“And unnecessary, no doubt. No, do not answer. I will not embarrass you.”
“You’re not embarrassing me, Major. I just don’t happen to know the answer to your question.”
“I admire your discretion, Mr. Fraser.”
I took no notice of that one.
“I am a reasonable man, Mr. Fraser,” he went on after a bit. “I shall be able to accept this situation philosophically. But my companions are a little different. They may look for other satisfactions. Things may grow difficult. I think that it would be as well for Mr. Gedge to remember that.”
“I’ll tell him what you say, but I think you’ll find that he’ll be very understanding.”
He did not speak again until we pulled up outside Gedge’s office; but as I went to get out, he put a hand on my arm.
“Understanding is a fine thing,” he said; “but sometimes it is better to carry a revolver.”
I looked at him carefully. “If I were you, Major, I wouldn’t make any jokes like that in front of Mr. Gedge. He might think that you were trying to intimidate him, and he wouldn’t care for that.”
He stared at me, and, although his hands did not move, I was for a moment acutely aware of the pistol at his belt. Then, he smiled. “I like you, Mr. Fraser,” he said; “I am sure that we shall be friends.”
The meeting with Gedge passed off fairly well. All the liaison managers claimed to have had administrative experience. A more surprising thing was that they all spoke some English. Although English is now a second official language in Sunda (Malay being the first) not many Sundanese can speak it yet. There was some tension when the discrepancies between what they had been told about their jobs in Selampang and what they were told by Gedge became apparent, but, in the end, they seemed to accept the situation good-humouredly enough. Major Suparto nodded and smiled like a father pleased with the behaviour of his children in adult company. Later that evening, there was a further meeting with heads of departments. They had all been warned in advance and were ready. Each one had to take a liaison manager. In effect he would be a kind of trainee. Let him potter around. If he could make himself useful, so much the better. If not, it would not matter.
None of them claimed any technical knowledge. Major Suparto asked to go to transport. The supply, plant, electrical, construction and power-lines departments took the rest.
The first hint of trouble came three days later from the construction department. Captain Emas had attacked and badly beaten up one of the men working in number-three bay of the power house. Questioned about the incident, Captain Emas stated that the man had been insufficiently respectful. The following week two more men were beaten up by Captain Emas for the same reason. The truth emerged gradually. It appeared that Captain Emas was organising a construction workers’ union, and that the men who had been beaten up had shown a disrespectful reluctance to pay dues. The secretary and treasurer of the union was Captain Emas.
Gedge was in a difficult position. All the project labour had been recruited locally and such minor disputes as had arisen had hitherto been settled by consultation with the village headmen. No formal union organisation had been found necessary. Unfortunately, under the Sundanese labour charter, membership of a union was obligatory for manual workers. Captain Emas obviously knew that. If he were fired and sent back to Selampang, he would simply complain to the Ministry of Public Works that he had found an illegal situation and been victimised for trying
