by Chris Glatte
He nodded to himself and walked around the wreck just in time to see Colonel Araki’s jeep and two trucks speeding away around the corner.
He went to the destroyed jeep and tried without success to ignore the impaled Lieutenant Shibata. He searched for water and found a discarded canteen.
53
The squad moved as quick as possible through the jungle. Private Willy, while not a natural woodsman like O’Connor, had a lot of jungle experience and was able to get them through some tough terrain without having to backtrack. The vigilance of taking point was taking its toll on him, though. He stopped and kneeled, halting the squad. Sergeant Carver loped up to him, his Thompson at the ready. “What’s the problem? Why you stopped?”
Private Willy panted and wiped his brow. “Sorry, Sarge, but I’m feeling dizzy. Just need some water and I’ll be good to go. Had to stop for a sec.”
Carver gave him a good look. He’d never known him to quit at anything. He looked okay, a little peaked, but they all were. “You hit?” Willy shrugged and touched his lower left side. Carver said, “Goddammit, Willy, show me.”
Willy pulled up his shirt. “It’s nothing, just a scratch.”
Carver noticed blood seeping into Willy’s pants. He hadn’t noticed it before. He shook his head. “Dammit. You need to have Dawkins take a look at that. You’re gonna end up with an infection. That doesn’t help our situation.” Willy looked down and spit a stream of stringy saliva.
Sergeant Carver sent word back for Cpl. Dawkins to come forward. He motioned the others to take a ten-minute break while the medic took care of Willy.
Carver went to speak with O’Connor about taking over the point position. “You get the grenades set?”
O’Connor nodded, “Sure did. I put the first one near the start of our trail. I haven’t heard it go off, but I think we’re too far into the jungle now to hear that one. I figured we’d of heard it if we were within a half mile or so. Guess we’re at least that far in front of anyone following our trail.”
Carver asked, “You sure they’d trip it?”
O’Connor shrugged, “It’s well hidden, and they wouldn’t be expecting the first one.” Carver nodded. “I set two more. I don’t have as much confidence in those, but even if they find them without setting them off, it’ll still slow ‘em down.” He opened his ammo pouch and showed Carver two more grenades. “I’ve still got these.”
Carver said, “Good job. Hold onto those; we may need ‘em the closer we get to our lines.” He noticed O’Connor looking at the satchel hanging around his neck. “I think once the Japs figure out we’ve got this, they’ll double their efforts to find us.”
“What’s in it?”
“I’ve only had a second to check, but it looks like an attack plan. That nip officer sure didn’t like me having it. I think it’s the real deal.”
O’Connor smiled, “Maybe that’ll get Lieutenant Swan off our backs.”
An hour later, O’Connor had found the trail they’d traveled in on. The muddy boot prints were easy to pick out.
Sergeant Carver called for a five-minute rest. The men immediately went for their canteens and whatever C-rats they had handy.
They hadn’t come across any drinkable water. They’d crossed a few small creeks on the trail in, but it was hard to figure when they’d cross them again. O’Connor couldn’t remember how far away they were, but he figured they’d be able to refill within the next hour. He’d already drained his first canteen and was well into his second. They’d been in constant motion since attacking the camp, and they were starting to drag. Running out of water would make it much worse.
O’Connor finished eating a stale cracker and took the lead position again. Carver took him by the arm. “We need to hurry. The men are dragging ass, but the Japs can’t be far behind, and they may be waiting with a blocking force in front. Move fast.” O’Connor knew the stakes and Carver pushed him forward. “We’ll stay close.” Carver thought, God I hope I’m not sending him to his death.
O’Connor took up the path and trotted along at a slow, but ground consuming pace. The others filed in behind.
The Marines were doing the best they could, but the men on either side had to support them more and more. The squad divvied up their food and the Marine’s devoured everything. They were careful not to give them too much too soon. Their stomachs and bodies weren’t used to the flood of nutrients and wouldn’t be able to handle it. The Marines were starving and pleaded with their vacant eyes for more, even though they knew it wouldn’t stay down. The soldiers didn’t give in to their silent pleas as much as they wanted to.
Moving along the trail was easy for O’Connor. He didn’t have to spend his time finding the best path; he’d already done that on the way out. Some of the trail looked familiar to him, a moss-covered boulder, a funny shaped tree, but other parts seemed like new territory, even though he was following his boot prints from the day before.
He came upon their miserable sleeping spot. He was amazed how quickly they were covering the ground. Don’t let your guard down now. It was never a good idea to return the same way you’d come. It was the first thing they taught you about patrolling; never be predictable.
The fast pace was taking a toll on the men. The sucking mud they sank in with every other step didn’t help. O’Connor heard the creek before he saw it. His tongue felt too large for his mouth. It was chalky and dry. He’d been ignoring the building thirst the best he could but the sound of the creek brought it all back. Oh, thank God almighty.
It was all he could do not to run headlong into the creek, but he slowed his pace and checked to make sure it was clear. It would be a good place for a Japanese ambush. The men behind him were just as parched as he was, but they held back until he gave the all clear. With that, they waded into the little creek and drank.
The stifling jungle heat fell off them like shedding a thick coat. The clear water tasted like an exotic cocktail, and their bodies soaked it up like a sponge. Within minutes they felt rejuvenated.
Sergeant Carver dipped his canteen and filled it. He took a long pull, his dirty Adams’ apple moving like a piston. He drained it and refilled both canteens. He clipped them to his belt and watched the men cooling off. He looked at the trail behind him. They had to keep moving. “Fill your canteens and get the hell outta there. Japs could be right behind us.”
The three Marines looked like they’d died and gone to heaven. They drank and drank and scrubbed their lice ridden bodies. The water seemed like a miracle. They had to be dragged out. It was the first time since their rescue that Carver saw a positive change in them. In their eyes instead of loss, despair, and sickness, Carver saw hope.
They were getting themselves together when they heard the muffled sound of a distant explosion. Every man went to a knee on high alert. Carver moved up to O’Connor. “Assuming that was your second grenade, how far away are they?”
O’Connor calculated. “I’d say about an hour behind us? I set that one a just before I took over on point.”
Sergeant Carver shook his head. “Dammit, thought we might get out of here scot-free.” He rubbed his stubbled chin. “Set another trap on the other side of the creek. Maybe they’re just as thirsty as we were.”
O’Connor nodded and brought Private Gomez to help him. The job was easier with two, and he wanted to teach Gomez. He’d proven himself a good warrior. Carver didn’t wait for them to finish. Private Crofter had been the second man in the patrol. “Crofter, take point.” Crofter’s eyes went wide, but he gave a curt nod and moved out.
54
Colonel Araki got back to his headquarters and stood in front of the radioman. He closed his eyes and went over what he had to do. He gritted his teeth thinking about the circumstances that had brought him to this dishonor. The image of Second Lieutenant Taro continually assaulted his senses.
The radioman sat in front of the radio with earphones on waiting for Colonel Araki to order him to connect him with General Hyakutake.
Sweat formed on the soldier’s brow and dripped into his eyes and along his nose, but he dared not wipe it away, not with Colonel Araki standing behind him. “Radio the general, Private.”
The radioman jumped with the words even though he knew they were coming. “Yessir!” Moments later he handed the headset and the handheld speaker to the colonel. Colonel Araki gestured for the private to leave. He pushed his chair back, a weathered stump and nearly toppled it in his haste to retreat.
Colonel Araki relayed the events of the past few hours. When he told General Hyakutake he believed the Americans had the plans to their spring attack, there was silence and faint static. He thought he lost the connection, but in another moment the General erupted.
Colonel Araki tensed and tightened his grip on the receiver, threatening to crush it. He stood rigid as a board as each new tirade slammed into him like the relentless tides eroding the beaches.
Finally, the General ran out of insults and the line was silent. Colonel Araki took the time to say. “General, I know I have failed you. I have no excuse, the blame is squarely on my shoulders. I will use all my resources to assure the American raiders don’t make it back to their lines.”
The voice on the other end lost its rage but was replaced with icy coldness. “I’ll expect nothing less, Colonel.” The line went dead.
Colonel Araki released his iron grip and placed the receiver back in its cradle. He wanted to hurl the entire radio across the tent, but that would only accomplish destroying a valuable piece of equipment. He was going to yell for Lieutenant Shibata, but the image of him stuck in the grille of the truck flashed across his mind.
“Lieutenant Koga,” he yelled. Lieutenant Koga had been waiting for the inevitable call. The colonel would want to send as many men as he could spare to find and kill the Americans. He’d already assembled his platoon. They were formed up and awaiting orders.
Lieutenant Koga strode to Colonel Araki and snapped off a salute. Colonel Araki ordered, “Get your platoon assembled. I have a mission of the utmost importance.”
Looking straight ahead, Lt. Koga said, “Sir, I have the platoon ready. We’re awaiting your orders.”
Colonel Araki stared at Lt. Koga. It was frowned upon for officers to take the initiative. The Japanese Army operated on following strict orders to the letter, and that meant not doing anything until ordered to do so. Colonel Araki would have to remind this petulant officer of his role once this fiasco was over. Now was not the time. Now was the time to act. “Come with me.” He entered his tent and strode to the large map covering the table in the center of the room. He found their position and moved his finger along a drawn-in line indicating the newly constructed road. “Here is where the Americans were intercepted. They moved east into the jungle. I’m assuming they will continue east then turn south back to their lines. As you can see, they will have to travel many kilometers to reach their lines.
“I’m assuming they’re moving fast trying to get home before we can react, but we have the advantage. Our new road parallels the escape route. We will truck you and your men south eight kilometers then you will cut east and cut them off. Captain Tagami is following the American’s as we speak. When they hit your blocking force, Tagami will come from behind, and we’ll squeeze the life out of them. Understood?”
Lieutenant Koga’s intelligent eyes studied the map. Colonel Araki was getting annoyed. “One question, sir.” Colonel Araki raised an eyebrow. “We have men nearer the American lines. Will we be in danger of passing through any of our own troops as we travel east?”
Colonel Araki circled three areas of the map. “Three companies are keeping the line. You will be well west of them. I’ll alert them of the situation; they can assist you if the need arises. Any more questions?”
He said it as if it would be better if there weren’t, but Lieutenant Koga stroked his chin, then shook his head, “No sir.”
Colonel Araki said, “Good. This mission is vital to the upcoming Spring attack. See you don’t fail.”
Lieutenant Koga clicked his heels and saluted, “Of course sir. I will not fail.”
Captain Tagami and his twenty men moved through the jungle following the trail. The Americans weren’t trying to cover their tracks. Tagami wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted, though, due to the booby trap they’d run into near the road. He’d lost two men, one killed the other injured and out of action.
Since then they’d moved slower, and their caution paid off. The point man found another booby trapped grenade. He’d come close to stumbling over it, but he’d noticed a discoloration in the mud and looked closer. He found the trap that had nearly killed him. He pointed it out to Captain Tagami. They’d exploded the grenade by firing beside it, knocking it sideways and allowing the handle to release. The explosion that followed wasn’t impressive, but it would’ve killed or injured the young private.
Captain Tagami wanted to move faster, but he wasn’t willing to risk the lives of his men by charging headlong through such a dangerous area.
Another hour passed without finding more booby traps. The men started to relax and their pace increased. Captain Tagami noticed, but he didn’t slow them. They were making good time. The American’s tracks seemed fresh. They were gaining on them.
The point man, the same private who’d found the second trap, came to a dense patch of jungle. He inspected the ground. It seemed like a good spot for another trap, and his instincts were urging caution. The men behind him halted and watched as he crawled forward feeling and looking for anything out of the ordinary. The American boot prints didn’t falter. It didn’t appear anyone had stopped. He crawled for ten meters before he was through the dense section. He stood and waved the men behind him through.
The first man strode to the thick leaves and vines and pushed his way through. Suspended on a vine ten feet above his head a grenade started to move side to side. When he was through, the next soldier was close behind.
He was directly beneath the grenade when it fell and released the lever. The one pound chunk of metal landed on the soldier’s helmet and bounced backward. He turned just in time for the explosion that tore through his torso. The man behind him never knew what hit him. One second he was pushing through the jungle the next he was blown off his feet and filled with hot shrapnel. Both soldiers were dead before they hit the ground.
The rest of the men dove to the ground as debris rained down on them. Captain Tagami was the first to lift his head. “Sergeant Chida, report!”
Sergeant Chida, only a few feet away from the shredded soldier jumped to his feet and ran to him. He knew he was gone. He went to the next man. He’d taken the brunt of the explosion, and there wasn’t much left. He could see two more soldiers further ahead. They looked shaken but unharmed. He yelled back to the Captain, “Two men down, sir. Looks like another booby trap.”
Captain Tagami stood, and the rest of the men did the same. “Pull the casualties to the side. We don’t have time to bury them.” The dead were laid side by side along the muddy path. When Captain Tagami went past, he closed his eyes. Two more good men gone. When we catch these Americans, we’ll make them pay.
The pace slowed again, but Captain Tagami urged them on, wanting to close with and kill the Americans.
Only a couple minutes had passed before the point man came to where the trail met another and made a ninety-degree turn to the south.
He stopped the men and moved forward looking for anything suspicious. Once satisfied, he called Sergeant Chida forward. He did an inspection of the area before calling up the captain.
When he approached, he whispered and pointed. “Looks like they headed south from here, back towards their lines.”
Captain Tagami pursed his lips, “probably the same trail they came in on. They’ll be moving faster, covering ground they already know.” He looked around at the men. They’d been moving without much rest for two hours. Their faces glistened with sweat, and their shirts had changed color from tan to wet black. “Sergeant, have t
he men take a five-minute rest.”
Sergeant Chida passed the order on, and the men sat and took long gulps from their canteens. Five minutes later they were ready to move. Sergeant Chida reported to his officer. “The men are running low on water, sir.”
Tagami nodded. “I know. Get them moving.” Without a word, the men took up the trot. The trail was obvious and easy to follow. Tagami watched his men. They were tired but willing to give everything they had to find the Americans. The cowardly booby traps had served to not only make them more careful, but also bloodthirsty for revenge.
He found his spot in the middle of the formation and took up the same trot. Each step was difficult. So many men passing through made the trail a muddy nightmare. He had to spot each footfall, trying to gauge how deep his foot would sink. It was exhausting, and soon he was gasping for breath. The men around him were similarly huffing, making them sound like chugging freight trains. His legs burned, his breathing was labored, but he would not be the first man to stop. He’d push as hard as his men.
Another hour passed and he felt like his legs might stop functioning. He was about to call for a rest, but the man in front of him slowed and stopped. The soldier was unrecognizable, almost completely covered in black mud. Every soldier looked the same. The mud splattering with each footfall had covered them and anyone close.
Once he got control of his breathing, he heard the sound of water flowing over rocks. He’d never been more thirsty in his life. The men around him licked their cracking lips in anticipation.
The point man started checking for more booby traps, but the men behind him pushed forward to the water. They didn’t see the thin line crossing the path.
55
It didn’t take long for the bliss of the creek to fade. The hot, clammy jungle with the sucking mud quickly reminded Carver and his men of their misery. The water in their soaked fatigues turned to salty sweat. There was never a point when they were dry. If they didn’t get back to their lines soon, they’d all come down with foot rot.
