One soldier shuffled across the aircraft on his backside and courteously offered both Madge and Basil a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, but took no offence at their refusal.
‘I’ve never been to Calcutta before,’ he told them, ‘and me and the boys are sure as hell going to party round the clock when we get there! Listen, buddy,’ he said, looking at Basil, ‘can you tell me, is the airport we’re flying to really called Dum Dum? I thought that was the name of a bullet!’
Basil had to shout over the noise of the engines when he replied that Dum Dum was actually an airport, but he could understand the American’s confusion as the word dumdum had become associated with a controversial soft or hollow-nosed bullet that expanded on impact and caused extensive damage. This bullet had been developed at a British military installation in the area known as Dum Dum Arsenal.
Apart from a couple of minutes of bouncing about and one blast of turbulence that made the aircraft feel as if it was actually flying sideways the rest of the journey was calm enough and the pilot landed the DC-3 as smoothly as he had handled the take-off from Patanga. They were cleared through US security at Dum Dum at remarkable speed. The American soldiers accompanied them and after their flight Madge and Basil were invited to become honorary Americans. The only stipulation was they had to promise not to say a word ‘in case that limey accent gives the game away’.
The DC-3 boys invited Madge and Basil to ride into Calcutta on their waiting US Forces truck and even diverted the vehicle to Chowringhee, where Basil had booked a week in the Grand Hotel. The young English couple’s luggage was handed straight to the bearer at the front entrance of the fabled hotel and with much whooping and waving and lots of voices hollering ‘Have a nice day, you guys’ the happy group of Americans drove off to paint the town redder than red.
‘There’s certainly plenty of staff here,’ said Madge as they were escorted into the lavishly appointed lobby where a magnificent chandelier and carved stone fountain vied for attention along with dignified, teak-panelled walls. It was little wonder that the Grand had become a byword for luxury and was normally so busy that it was very difficult to book even the most insignificant of rooms. Before Madge could even sit in one of the almost regal mahogany armchairs she was handed an iced flannel. ‘It’s like being in a palace,’ she said to Basil, not realising he was deep in conversation with the concierge.
‘I’m surprised the hotel is so quiet,’ Basil said.
‘Well, sir, I’m afraid there’s been something of a problem with an outbreak of cholera in the building!’
Madge could hardly believe her ears! Calcutta was in the grip of a full-blown cholera epidemic with a hundred cases and upwards of thirty deaths being reported daily. A dozen of the British troops billeted in the Grand had also caught the deadly disease and had been taken to an isolation hospital. The rest of the British contingent had left. When news of the outbreak had emerged, close to 140 American servicemen had also moved to other accommodation and the finest hotel in town was decreed to be off limits to the rest of the US forces.
As the conversation between Basil and the concierge continued Madge suddenly remembered the security officer at Chittagong airport.
‘It seems,’ she said to Basil, ‘that just about everybody knew about cholera in Calcutta except us!’
Suresh, who was standing in for the main concierge, explained that because of the number of people who caught cholera on the premises every room was being fumigated. ‘As soon as that is complete, madam, the Grand will once again be the finest and the safest hotel in the whole of Calcutta,’ he said with a beaming smile and a lot more positivity than Madge and Basil themselves felt. ‘The kitchens are, however, to be fumigated later this week so it is better you have breakfast somewhere else,’ he added.
Much to Madge’s amusement Suresh, a happy soul who let slip that he loved a glass of Chivas Regal to start the day, wanted to turn the conversation to cricket rather than cholera. What should have been a joyful and relaxed week was on the verge of becoming a holiday from hell. The immediate problem the couple faced was where to go next if they checked out of the Grand. There was certainly no guarantee that a new hotel would be any safer. As Suresh lavished praise on Douglas Jardine, a controversial former England cricket captain ‘who gave those Aussies what for’, Basil asked how busy other hotels were in the city.
‘Well, I should imagine they are in a similar situation,’ Suresh replied, ‘but I can assure you that fumigation of the majority of the hotel will have been completed in just a day or so.’
‘When you think it through,’ said Basil, turning to Madge, ‘if we move, we could be jumping from the frying pan straight into the fire so it’s probably better to stay put.’
‘Good idea,’ she replied, ‘because this hotel certainly looks rather splendid. The situation’s not ideal but I think I’d rather be here than anywhere else.’
Only after the check-in formalities were completed did they find that their separate rooms, beautifully decorated and luxuriously furnished, were actually at totally opposite ends of the hotel, but they decided not to make a fuss. Instead they opted for an early lunch at a nearby restaurant that was the haunt of kings and queens, governor generals, maharajas, film stars and touring cricket teams.
Impressive as the list of celebrities who frequented the fabled Firpo’s restaurant may have been, there
