Monday, May 28, 2012

Pacific Paradox by Kev Richardson

Cover art by: Richard Stroud
Ebook and print; 305 pages
Purchase link to Pacific Paradox
A nobleman’s errant son is despatched to the South seas to be blooded.
  • A tale of stumbling through intrigue, hunger, pangs of love-lust, deceit, loneliness, kidnap and hunger on his path to discovering common sense.
  • Coast-watching on Guadalcanal when the Japanese invade, he discovers the horrors of what war does to man on the one hand—and what unlikely friendships can be forged on the other.
  • A front stalls view of the legendary naval battles on Guadalcanal, 1942.


Beresford, Andy and Doug were no longer permitted leave at the same time. The three coast-watchers were on watch twenty-four hours a day in their particular ‘hides’. Now only one watcher at a time could be absent from his post for a half day off each week. And they travelled to and fro on their ‘free’ time, and these days it wasn’t all by foot as they now had ‘motor-scooters’. No longer was there need to keep tracks to their ‘hides’ secret, for all knew that any day from now there would be a major battle for the island—one that could change the course of the war.

“If the bloody Japs win this island,” a PBY pilot expounded, “they’ve got Australia. And without Australia, the US has lost the Pacific. And that includes Hawaii and every opportunity to ever get close enough to attack Japan. Alaska is already under attack. Canada would be their next target, and the entire USA is then within range of their bombers. So this very island simply has to be taken off the Japs while we’ve got this airport open. I reckon the next fleet we see coming will be either the Japs with a million troops or our lads with a million troops. It’s going to be first here wins the war—that’s how I see it. I reckon that’s what the Japs thought they were doing here last week.”

A first lieutenant marine buddy looked around to see who might be listening, for all in the group were junior officers. “I agree, Mike. My captain’s under instruction to issue no leave passes, and he hints that more troops are on the way in big numbers.”

Beresford couldn’t lose the feeling that nobody expected today’s situation would be the same tomorrow. Imminent change was in the air, and everybody seemed to sense it.

He made his farewells, finished his beer, picked up his satchel stuffed with bread, cheese and pickled onions.

A good old English ploughman’s lunch is just the shot when a man can’t get hot food.

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