by Chris Glatte
Colonel Araki wasn’t expecting to get a report from his errant Captain Tagami. It had been a week since he’d sent him after the American patrol. He hadn’t heard anything from them since. Lieutenant Koga and what was left of his platoon, did return, however and reported their failure to kill the American’s. Colonel Araki was irate and threatened to relieve the young officer, but officers were in short supply.
He put the Lieutenant through a rigorous debriefing, keeping him in a sweltering tent while his men questioned his every decision. By the end, Lt. Koga was convinced he’d die for his failure.
Colonel Araki was baffled that Koga hadn’t encountered Captain Tagami and his men. He thought of Captain Tagami as his most competent officer. Had he lost the American’s trail so easily? And why hadn’t they returned? They didn’t have enough rations with them to survive a week in the jungle. He thought they must have come to some unknowable demise, but not knowing their fate ate at him.
One week later Sergeant Carver and Corporal O’Connor were back on regular duty. They’d been through a rigorous debriefing with Lieutenant Swan and the company commander, Captain Flannigan.
Flannigan was convinced the Japanese maps and battle plans were authentic. After the debriefing, he’d jumped in his jeep and shot off Hill 260 with a broad grin on his face. He was delivering the Japanese playbook to regimental headquarters. It was just the sort of thing that advanced an officer’s career.
Lieutenant Swan was beaming as well. He’d kept Sergeant Carver and the remaining squad members off the guard rotation for most of the week. Now, however, Carver and O’Connor were back on the line crouched in slit trenches midway down Hill 260. The trenches were well used, they even had drainage ports for the daily torrential downpour that never seemed to take a day off.
The platoon was back to full strength with the addition of men from the beachhead. The replacements were all veterans, and fit in well, but every time Carver saw one, he was reminded of the men he lost. Losing Private Willy weighed on him. Willy was tough as nails, but he’d died just like so many others.
O’Connor stood and peered over the edge of the slit trench. The day was moving towards evening, the sun starting to dip towards the horizon to the west. O’Connor squinted into the jungle at the base of the hill. He looked down at Carver propped with his back against the wall and his feet on the opposite wall. “You think they’ll pull us back; now they know the Jap’s plans?”
Carver shrugged. “Doubt it. Lieutenant Swan certainly thinks so. That’s why he’s so damned happy. He hates our position, and I can’t say I blame him. We’re stuck out here like a tick on a dog. The way they’ve been resupplying us, giving whatever we ask for, they’re keeping us here.”
O’Connor continued scanning the empty jungle. “If the Japs do what we think they’re gonna do, we’re screwed. We’ll be cut off and surrounded. How many did it say they were committing again…twelve thousand?”
Carver nodded, “Something like that, but coming over those mountains should whittle them down a bit.”
O’Connor spit into the dirt. “That’s tough jungle, no doubt.” The silence stretched until O’Connor broke it. “March 8th isn’t far. Only a couple weeks. If they’re keeping us here, hopefully, they’ll give us some armor, or more artillery.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Colonel Araki stood outside the colonial style house in Buni on the southern tip of Bougainville. He’d made the trip along the newly constructed jungle road they’d been using to gather troops and materials for the planned assault on the American lines.
There was a constant flow of traffic even in broad daylight. The jungle canopy so thick overhead kept the hated American fighters and bombers away. Even if they knew where they were, the canopy would explode any bombs and stop any bullets long before they’d reach the ground.
The busy troop traffic made his journey in the opposite direction slow and frustrating, but he felt he needed to make his case directly to General Hyakutake. He hoped delivering his thoughts in person would add weight to his plea.
He’d been waiting inside the foyer of the grand house for over an hour, and he was starting to wonder if he was forgotten. The soldier at the desk hadn’t stopped stacking and sorting piles of paper and folders since he sat down. There was a buzzing sound, and the soldier peered through the stacks of papers and said, “General Kanda will see you now, sir.”
Colonel Araki stood but squinted at the soldier. “I have an appointment with General Hyakutake.”
The soldier pushed his round glasses up his nose. “Yes sir, but General Hykutake fell ill two days ago, and Lieutenant General Kanda is overseeing all his business until he returns, sir.”
Colonel Araki gritted his teeth. This runt of a man was starting to annoy him. He barked, “You will stand at attention when addressing a superior officer, Corporal.”
The small man nearly fell over backward, but managed to get to his feet and stand stiff as a rail. He saluted, “Yes, sir.”
“When is General Hyakutake expected to return?”
Still at attention, the young soldier’s brow was sweating, wetting the beige hat he wore. “I do not know, sir.”
Colonel Araki slapped the side of his thigh with his hat and clutched his briefcase. “Show me to General Kanda.”
The soldier sprang into action happy to be rid of the grizzled old soldier. “Right this way, sir.” He motioned him towards a closed double door. He swung the doors open and stepped in while Colonel Araki waited on the threshold. “Colonel Araki to see you, sir.”
Lieutenant General Kanda was second in command of the 17th Army. He was known as a tough, by the book leader. His distinctive bald head, which he kept closely shaved, shone and reflected the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
He looked up but didn’t stand. “Ah, Colonel Araki. What is so important that brings you here, so far from your duties?”
Colonel Araki saluted and waited until it was returned. “General Kanda, I was expecting General Hyakutake. Is the General well?”
General Kanda stood and shook his head. “He’s suffered some kind of spell. He’s an old soldier. The doctors think he may have had a stroke, but it’s too early to tell.” He looked at him sharply, “You haven’t answered my question, Colonel.”
Araki felt sick. He’d known General Hyakutake since Nanking. They’d devastated half of China together and conquered countless colonial islands. He was counting on his close ties to convince him to change the attack plans.
He took a deep breath and decided there was nothing to do but forge on. “I’m here to discuss the upcoming attack on the American positions.”
General Kanda smiled, “I have a constant flow of information coming from the front, Colonel. I don’t need or want my front line commanders making special trips to brief me.”
Colonel Araki shook his head. “I’m not here to brief you, sir. I’m here to discuss changing the timeline and possibly the entire plan of attack.”
General Kanda’s smile turned to ice. “Why would I do that?”
“I know it’s late for changes but…”
Kanda interrupted, “The attack is in a couple of weeks, of course it’s too late for changes.”
Araki nodded but continued. “It wouldn’t have to be drastic changes. I believe the Americans know when, where and how we’re going to attack…”
Again, General Kanda interrupted. “Of course they do, because of your blunders the American’s have the entire battle plan, but it won’t matter. We’re bringing overwhelming forces to the battle, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Even knowing everything, they still won’t be able to keep our brave soldiers from pushing them off the foothills.” His eyes gleamed as he pictured the victory in his mind. “Then we’ll rain artillery fire onto their damned airfields, and push them back into the sea.”
Colonel Araki knew it wasn’t going well and thought he should salute and leave, but the thought of coming all this way without explaini
ng his plan seemed a waste. “If we changed a few things, like attack routes and the attack date, we could save many lives. We could even change the attack routes to hit their forces from the opposite direction they’re expecting us and take them by surprise, hastening our victory.”
General Kanda clasped his hands behind his back and paced. Araki stood at attention sweating. Kanda stopped, spun to the back wall and peered up at a portrait of General Hyakutake which was below a much larger portrait of Emperor Hirohito. “I have fought under General Hyakutake for many years. He’s a worthy commander one who deserves our respect and admiration. This attack is his plan, his legacy. He may not return to the battlefield.” He turned back to look Araki in the face. He leaned on the desk. “The attack will commence without changes. Understand?”
Colonel Araki stiffened and clicked his heels. “Of course, sir. Thank you for your time and consideration, sir.”
He saluted, and Kanda returned it. “You’ve come a long way, Colonel. Why don’t you spend the night? The local girls are warm, friendly and mostly clean.”
Araki shook his head quickly. “Thank you for the offer, but I need to get back to my men. There’s a lot of preparation to be done, sir.”
“Dismissed,” Kanda said. As Colonel Araki limped out, he said, “I’ll expect nothing short of victory, Colonel.”
Colonel Araki stopped and without turning, nodded “Yes, sir. Victory or death, I will do my duty.”
65
For the next three weeks, everyone in Able Company was busy fortifying Hill 260. The bunkers were reinforced with another full layer of sandbags; the slit trenches were widened. An intricate system of connecting trenches were dug, so men could travel between strongpoints without exposing themselves to enemy fire.
There was a constant flow of war material streaming in from the rear. Ammunition was piled high. More .30 caliber machines guns were placed along the line until there were more guns than qualified operators. More men were brought in to man them.
Whatever Captain Flannigan and Lieutenant Swan asked for, they got, including five Sherman tanks. Captain Flannigan kept them out of sight in the jungle behind the hill. There were five dugouts ready for them to pull into once the firing started.
According to the captured Japanese plans, the attack would begin with a sustained artillery barrage, in the early morning hours of March 8th. There would be three prongs of Japanese soldiers hitting three different hills soon after the barrage stopped. Hill 700 a few miles to the west, Cannon Hill in the middle, and Hill 260 were all targets.
Lieutenant Swan thought once the big brass saw the situation they’d pull his men off Hill 260, and put them back into the line. He doubted, even though they knew the exact plan down to the last detail, that their company could hold against such an overwhelming force. The odds seemed too great.
Captain Flannigan and every officer up the chain didn’t see it that way. They wanted the Japanese to attack and commit their remaining forces. They’d flounder against a well dug-in foe and withering, pre-sighted artillery.
Lieutenant Swan turned an ugly shade of white when he heard the rest of Able Company wouldn’t be on the hill when the steel started flying. He’d be left to defend it with a reinforced platoon.
Sergeant Carver had overheard the conversation and relayed it to Corporal O’Connor, careful none of the other men heard.
“The captain stood there beside the LT with his hands on his hips looking out over the jungle like MacArthur for chrissakes. He told him how much he wished he could stay on the hill with him. It was a good show, acting angry and let down, but it was all bullshit. Told him the rest of Able is being pulled back as a fast reaction force in case the battle doesn’t go as planned in other sectors.”
Corporal O’Connor shook his head and kept filling sandbags. The attack was supposed to come in the morning. The rest of Able Company had left the day before, and the hill seemed empty without them. “They’ll probably have to come save our asses unless the Nips cut off the route.”
“We’ve got a shitload of artillery that’s gonna rain hell down on the Jap’s heads, not to mention a full airfield of bombers and fighters.”
“Think it’ll be enough to stop ‘em?”
Carver flicked the butt of the cigarette he’d smoked down to a nub and blew out the white smoke. He shook his head, “Doubt it.”
O’Connor pointed down the hill. “They’re out there right now; every crevice filled with Japs. Why don’t we just start bombing the crap out of ‘em now? I mean at least take out their artillery.”
“The brass doesn’t want to spook ‘em. Wants ‘em to think we don’t have a clue to what’s coming.”
“They’ve gotta know we stole their plans.”
Private Gomez trudged up the hill with two loaded sandbags. “You guys need these? I can’t stack anymore. I don’t think a direct hit could knock my hole out.” O’Connor nodded and directed him to place them on top of the many others. “When the Jap artillery starts coming, you’re gonna think about those two bags you gave away.”
He grinned, and Gomez slapped him on the arm. “Let ‘em come, we’ll blow the hell out of ‘em.” He turned and went back to his hole.
From up the hill, Lieutenant Swan sauntered to their hole. He inspected the layout and dropped in next to them. He checked their fields of fire and nodded in approval. “I want most of the platoon up at my bunker at 1500 hundred hours for a briefing, Sergeant.”
The platoon sat around outside the entrance to the command bunker. Radio wires were bundled and ran out the entrance then split off and traveled underground to different areas of the hill. A lot of sweat had gone into digging the trenches the wire ran through. They’d dug it three feet down, hoping it was enough to keep the vital communications open despite the Japanese artillery. Carver hoped it would work, but thought it would make repairs more difficult. If all else failed, there was always the good old fashioned runner.
Lieutenant Swan stepped out of the bunker with two aides and Sergeant Milo at his back. The men started to stand, but Swan shook his head, “Remain seated men.” He stepped forward, and the aides spread out to either side. Sergeant Milo stayed behind him with his burly arms across his chest and a scowl on his face. “Thanks for coming.” Private Gomez looked at Corporal O’Connor and rolled his eyes, as if they had a choice. “As you know, tomorrow at 0400, the Japs will commence their attack.” He looked at them as if giving the news for the first time.
“They’ll start with artillery, which means you have to be buttoned up tight. The brass has decided not to fire counter-battery, so it’s gonna be hell up here.”
The men looked at one another muttering. This was news. Lieutenant Swan put up his hands for quiet. “I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but they don’t want to give up the game before the attack starts. Once enemy troops are confirmed in the open, they’ll not only hit the artillery but the troops too. If all goes as planned, the Japs will die where they stand, but as we all know that’s not likely to happen.”
He started to pace. Carver thought he looked much older than the wide-eyed kid he’d first met back on Fiji. “We’ll undoubtedly be in close contact. We’ve got good fields of fire, good artillery support and you’re all experienced fighters. I have no doubt we’ll break this attack.” The men looked unconvinced.
“Make sure you have plenty of ammo and water. Once things kick off, there won’t be a chance to resupply easily.” He stopped pacing and clasped his hands behind his back. “As you all know this knob sticks out from our lines; we’re exposed and susceptible to encirclement. The Japs will be hitting up and down the lines, so if it looks like we’re about to be overrun, there may not be help readily available. If I think this is about to happen, I’ll pop smoke. That’ll be the signal to retreat off the backside of the hill and move to the north knob.”
He pointed to the low hill behind him. Hill 260 was shaped like an hour glass, they held the south knob, but also had bunkers and defensive holes on the nor
th knob. He looked around at the hard faces. “I’ve already talked with the tank crews. The smoke will signal them to move forward and cover a retreat. I’m not expecting to be overrun, but I don’t expect you to fight to the death either. We’ll fight our way back and retake this damned hill if we have to.”
The men were silent. It wasn’t the rallying speech they’d expected to hear. Sergeant Carver knew Lieutenant Swan didn’t have permission to retreat, but he’d laid out a plan anyway. Carver nodded, the boy’s learned some lessons.
66
While Lieutenant Swan was briefing his men, Colonel Araki was doing the same with his. There were three prongs to the attack, each aimed at different hills. The highest hill, Hill 700 would be the toughest battle. He suspected it would be the most heavily defended and would require more soldiers. None would be easy, however.
The Americans knew the battle plan and had been building up their forces for almost a month. He was sending his men into a meat grinder, and every one of them knew it. The only advantage they had were overwhelming numbers.
The jungle was teeming with troops. Most had made the hard trip over the mountain pass only a week before. They were used to the comforts of Buin, the village on the eastern tip of the island. Now they were deployed in a swamp, infested with countless insects and rats. They were hard troops, though, despite their previous assignment.
Every soldier on Bougainville regardless of their station had experienced the pang of hunger since the Americans cut off their supply chain. They’d been on half rations for months, and their skinny frames and gaunt faces were evidence of the fact.
The briefing was quick and straight to the point. Every officer knew his job, and Colonel Araki knew they’d perform their duties to the letter. At the end of his briefing, he looked over the crowd of officers and found the man he was looking for tucked in the back of the bunker. Second Lieutenant Taro was responsible for the Americans getting the plans and Araki had a special assignment for him. “Lieutenant Taro,” He bellowed.
