The 164th Regiment Series Boxset

by Chris Glatte

  There was return fire up and down the line as the Filipino fighters engaged the sniper. Major Cruz pointed. “Those windows on the second floor of the nearest building are full of snipers.”

  Carver nodded and slapped O’Connor who was staring at Major Cruz. “Get your bazooka team up here. We’ll put a crimp in their style.”

  O’Connor called out, “Vincent, Pullman, up!” the word passed through the company and soon two gangly soldiers were weaving towards them. The lead man, Private Vincent held the bazooka followed by Private Pullman carrying the satchel of bazooka rounds. They skidded into the cover and their eyes went wide when they noticed the beautiful major beside Colonel Cushing. O’Connor grabbed Pvt. Vincent’s shoulder and pointed through a gap in the cover. “See that top floor window in the center?” Vincent squinted through the gap and nodded. “Think you can hit it?”

  Private Vincent nodded and smiled. “Course I can, Sarge. Piece of cake.” He stayed behind cover but put the bazooka tube on his shoulder and angled up slightly. “Load me up Pullman.”

  Private Pullman was already placing the high explosive M7 round into the back of the tube. As he pulled the wire from the rocket and wrapped it on the contact, he said, “Hold your damned horses.” A second later he slapped Vincent’s shoulder. “Ready.” He stepped to the side away from the rocket blast.

  Private Vincent adjusted his footing and rose up, aiming through the sight. He steadied and pulled the trigger. The rocket whooshed from the barrel and the white trailing smoke was easy to follow. The rocket went through the dark window frame hit the back wall and exploded inside. There was a bright flash followed by smoke and billowing dust. Major Cruz looked on admiringly. “Nice shot, soldier.” The nearby Filipino fighters cheered and pumped their weapons into the air.

  Private Vincent’s smile threatened to break his face. “That was nothing. Give me something harder next time.”

  A blast from an M4 Sherman shook their cover. They ducked lower and saw the white plume of smoke billowing out from the alley to the right. The 75mm cannon was sticking into the street, trailing a thin strand of smoke. Carver looked over the top of the cover and saw the same window the bazooka had engaged. The shot had hit the side of the window and blown out a large chunk of the front wall. Pieces of concrete continued to peel off the wall and plunge to the ground. Smoke and dust continued to pour from the gap. Carver ducked back down and said, “Looks like your sniper nest’s done for.”

  The other M4s opened up on the same building until it seemed to be erupting with great holes and explosions. Carver and the rest ducked down as bits of fine mist and debris rained down on them. Carver pulled his helmet down and pulled his shirt over his mouth.

  When the Shermans stopped firing and the debris settled, Carver poked his head up again. The front of the building was pockmarked with large holes. The right side had completely collapsed.

  He saw movement in the carnage and realized he was seeing staggering Japanese soldiers. He brought his Thompson to his shoulder but he didn’t pull the trigger. The harsh cracks of M1 Garands and Carbines rippled along the line and he watched the soldiers stagger and fall as bullets slammed around and into them. He pulled back his Thompson, turned and sunk into cover. He had his back to the wall and he closed his eyes. What’s wrong with me? Am I losing my nerve?

  He looked to his left and saw Sergeant O’Connor watching him. He shook his head slightly and turned away. Carver stared at the sky and took a deep breath. He blew it out and pictured Lilly smiling at him. It soothed him and he felt the war disappear for a moment.

  It came roaring back when he heard Lt. Swan chattering on the radio. Swan found Carver and scooted closer. “Listen up. There won’t be an artillery barrage. Command wants to limit the damage, so we’re going in behind the tanks. General Arnold is sending up more units but we’ll be the head of the spear.” He stopped and licked his lips. He glanced at his wrist watch. “We jump off in an hour. Get the men ready. It’s house to house. Not our forte’ but we’ll figure it out.”

  Carver nodded. “We’ll have to.”

  Able Company stayed in cover while the Shermans plowed over the low wall surrounding the city district at various points. The mud and thatch walls crumbled as the thirty-ton monsters flattened them.

  Sergeant O’Connor motioned his squad to follow, and he tucked up against the nearest tank. The Shermans advanced toward the sniper building. There were no more shots coming from it.

  The streets and alleys were tight, not leaving much maneuvering room for the bulky tanks. The Shermans stopped short and idled. O’Connor saw Lt. Swan taking a call from the back of the tank he followed. It was a brief conversation. He hung up and signaled. They were to advance without the tanks the rest of the way. O’Connor cursed to himself. The tightly packed buildings could hold hundreds of Japanese soldiers and they’d have to enter and clear each one or risk being attacked from behind.

  O’Connor turned to his wide-eyed GIs. “Okay, we cover each other all the time. One group enters the building while the other covers their backsides. Then we move onto the next with the first group covering the next.” He watched the men nodding. “If we hear or see Japs we throw grenades first, then enter and take ‘em out while they’re stunned. Got it?” They nodded and waited for the signal to advance.

  Lieutenant Swan waved his arm and he stepped from behind the Sherman. The Company was spread out, each squad responsible for the buildings to their immediate front.

  O’Connor went around the Sherman and heard the footsteps of his men following. He went to the first door and stood to the side. He listened for any sound that would indicate the enemy. The Filipino resistance fighters assured them that all civilians had been evacuated, so anyone left were Japanese. The only thing he heard was the purr of the tanks. He made eye contact with the GI beside him, who licked his dry lips and nodded. Six men were lined up behind him. The remaining six were across the street scanning the roofs and windows for surprises.

  O’Connor moved to the front of the door. It looked well built with heavy wood. He stepped back and kicked the door handle as hard as he could. The wooden frame shattered and the door swung open. With his M1 Carbine leading, he ran in. His mind was on overdrive as he took in the surroundings as quickly as possible. His felt his heart would leap out of his chest, but the room was empty. The rest of the GIs streamed past him and cleared the adjoining rooms. It was a single-story building. It looked to be some sort of store, but the shelves and counters were bare.

  He heard shooting off to the right, in another building. It was intense but quickly faded to single shots. The GIs crouched and readied themselves for the next building. O’Connor hoped it went as well as the first. He trotted back to the front door and signaled the men covering them to move forward. They ran past him and into the cleared building.

  They moved through to the back wall. The next building across the alley was a two story. There was a rickety back door they could enter through. It was partially opened. He whispered. “Now we switch.” The men nodded. “I’ll lead this one too.” Relief flooded Corporal Mathew’s face. O’Connor trusted him, he was a good soldier and had shown coolness under fire, but city fighting was new to all of them.

  O’Connor looked both ways down the alley. It was strewn with debris but clear of enemy soldiers. With one last look to the windows above, he ran across to the side of the next door.

  He waited until the men were ready. He was about to move, when he heard the clatter of something inside. He pulled back and put his finger to his lips. He pulled a grenade from his utility belt and pulled the pin. He released the handle and threw it into the room with a quick motion. He pulled back and cringed at the crack of a rifle. The bullet slammed into the side of the half-open door and splintered the thin wood. A second later the grenade exploded and sent the door flying into the wall across the alley.

  Without exposing his head, O’Connor extended his carbine and pulled the trigger, moving the barrel side to side. He p
ulled back and yelled, “Go, go, go!”

  Corporal Mathews moved past him and the shattered door frame. He darted left and went into a crouch. He saw movement deeper in the hallway and fired his M1 Garand. The heavy thud of a body falling was unmistakable. The rest of the men filled the room and fired down the hallway. There was screaming and yelling coming from deeper inside.

  Mathews pulled a grenade and yelled, “Fire in the hole!” The GIs went prone and Mathews lobbed the grenade down the hall. It bounced off the right wall and went around the corner and disappeared. The explosion sent a dust cloud down the hall along with more screaming.

  O’Connor took the moment to reload his partially used, thirty-round magazine. He pushed himself to his feet and ran down the hall with his carbine ready. He saw a body sprawled in front of him and before leaping over, he put three more .30 caliber rounds into it.

  He came around the corner and saw the grisly aftermath of the grenade. Men lay in bleeding heaps. He pulled the semi-automatic trigger as fast as he could pull. The soldiers still alive were dazed and O’Connor poured bullets into them. The rest of the squad joined him. After a few seconds, he yelled, “Cease fire!”

  Beyond the bodies there was another hallway and a stairwell leading up to the right. O’Connor saw an object hit the bottom step and bounce off the opposite wall. He dove to the right while at the same time yelling, “Grenade!” The GIs reacted instantly diving to the ground, using the Japanese bodies for cover.

  The grenade exploded and the shock wave washed over O’Connor and made his already tortured ears ring in protest. The Japanese bodies had absorbed most of the blast, but he heard a GI screaming.

  O’Connor got to his knees and shook the cobwebs from his head. He pointed at the ceiling. “Japs upstairs.” There was firing coming from outside. O’Connor’s ears were clear enough to hear the heavy thumps of footfalls above. He rolled onto his back and yelled. “Fire through the ceiling.” He fired his carbine until the chamber locked in the open position. He released the magazine and reloaded. The rest of the squad was firing straight up. The ceiling was coming apart with large chunks of plaster and dust.

  O’Connor got to his feet and signaled a cease fire. He listened for more footfalls but didn’t hear anything. The firing from outside stopped. O’Connor pointed at Private Gilson. “Tell the men outside to cease fire, we’re moving to the second floor.” He nodded and ran off, plaster and dust streaming off his helmet and shoulders.

  O’Connor pointed at Mathews then at the stairway. “Get up there and clear out any survivors.”

  Mathews stood and nodded. He adjusted his helmet and moved to the stairwell. The grenade blast had opened a hole in the wooden floor and the scent of scorched dirt and wood wafted from it. He waited until the men were behind him. He took the first step up the stairwell and started firing. He took the stairs by twos and was soon up and around the corner. The rest of the men followed, with O’Connor taking up the rear.

  The firing stopped and O’Connor entered. It was a large room nearly covering the entire top floor. There were three dead Japanese soldiers in the center, victims of bullets coming through the floor. Tiny shafts of light streamed through countless holes. Near the far wall, beneath the windows were three more Japanese bodies.

  O’Connor went to the window and poked his head out. He waved at the rest of his squad. “We’ve got a wounded man inside. Get Doc Haley.” One of the GIs ran off in the direction of Carver’s squad. O’Connor yelled, “Crenshaw, go with him.” A short bandy-legged GI nodded and took off in pursuit. “The rest of you come inside.” They nodded and moved across the alley.

  The rest of the squad stood in the room with vacant looks. Their rifle’s still smoked and the blood from the fallen Japanese seeped into the floorboards and dripped through the holes. O’Connor rallied them up. “Let’s get downstairs and take a breather while we wait for doc Haley.”

  The men nodded and moved to the stairwell. O’Connor recognized the dazed looks. He needed to keep the men busy, keep their minds off how close each had come to dying.

  Private First-Class Haley was coming through the door behind Private Crenshaw and Griffin. He slid in beside the wounded soldier. The GI was propped up against the wall clutching his right leg and moaning. Blood soaked his shredded pant leg. He was sweating and was white as a sheet. There were two other GIs hovering over him, trying to soothe him. Haley pulled a pair of scissors off his belt and cut the pant leg away. The soldier nearest turned white and vomited off to the side. Haley yelled at the GI. “Get the hell outta here if you’re such a damned pussy. Doesn’t help anything.” The GI wiped his mouth and sulked away.

  Haley redirected his focus to the wounded man. “Don’t worry about that asshole. It’s not as bad as it looks.” He read his stenciled name-tag. “Private Lewis.” He pulled out a bandage and sulfa powder. “Hell, it’s barely bleeding. I’ve seen a lot worse than this, believe me.” He poured the white powder over the meaty wound. He reached into his medic kit and pulled out a small white cylinder. He held it up for Lewis to see. “Gonna give you morphine, it’ll ease the pain.” Lewis nodded. Haley jabbed the syrete into his leg. The effect was immediate. Lewis relaxed and leaned his head back. Haley pushed the bandage onto the wound and tied it tightly around his thigh. He pulled out a marker and wrote the number ‘1’ followed by the letter ‘m’ on Lewis’s forehead.

  Haley looked around at the rest of the squad. He noticed the pile of torn up Japanese soldiers but ignored them. “Anyone else hit?”

  O’Connor shook his head. “Nah, that’s it. Thanks doc.”

  Haley nodded, “Don’t mention it. I’ve gotta get back. A few other guys got hit a few buildings over. You can leave Lewis here. I’ll have a detail swing by and get him.”

  O’Connor nodded and pointed at the soldier who’d puked. “Stay with him, Montgomery.” The soldier was still pale, but he nodded and crouched beside Lewis again. “The rest of you check your weapons and ammo. We’ve got more buildings to clear.” As if to remind them, there was firing coming from another nearby building.

  79

  Sam Santos was exhausted but exuberant. He’d fought alongside his Filipino brothers and sisters all night long. They’d pushed the Japanese back steadily, routing them from buildings block by bloody block.

  They’d succeeded in pushing them from most of the city, but the Japanese had set up a stout defense in the northwest corner. Sam and the rest of the partisans were ordered to stop and wait for the allies to come ashore.

  He welcomed the rest. He sat with his back to a wall and recounted the night. He thought back to the men he’d killed, picturing their faces. He wondered about their families back in Japan. Would they ever know the fate of their loved ones? Will I ever know the fate of mine? The image of his little sister flashed across his mind and he felt a tear well up and roll down his cheek. It had been weeks since they’d taken her. He wondered if she was alive, and if she were, if she prayed for death.

  The image of his grandmother bleeding on the floor, her normally bright eyes devoid of life, assaulted him. He ground his teeth and felt the hatred fill his soul. He hoped the Japanese suffered, the parents, the wives, sons and daughters, all of them could go to hell. His brother’s face filled his mind. What will I do when I find you, brother? He knew. I’ll kill you myself.

  The sun was high when the Americans finally got to his position. He stood and watched their big tanks rumble forward and take up positions. The soldiers looked big and commanding and it seemed they all had smiles on their faces. Some had flowers in their helmet webbing where the locals had decorated. Sam thought they looked formidable in their green matching uniforms. Their weapons were shiny and looked new, unlike the M1 he carried.

  He moved to the side of a building and watched with Felipe as the American GIs took cover. An impossibly tall GI walked by them and tipped his helmet. Sam smiled and gave him a salute. The GI laughed and continued walking.

  He saw a group of GIs who looke
d like officers talking with Major Cruz, his old teacher. He pointed and asked Felipe, “Are those general’s?”

  Felipe laughed and shook his head. “They’re officers, but not generals. Not every officer is a general. It looks like a Captain and a Lieutenant. The ones with the stripes on their shoulders are sergeants. The one with more stripes is a platoon sergeant, I think.”

  Sam lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. “How can you remember? It seems like there’s too much to know.”

  Felipe slapped his back. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a private, the lowest rank. It’s not hard for you. They all outrank you so do what they say.”

  Sam nodded, feeling better. “I think I’d like to stay a private.”

  One of the officers broke away from the group and was trotting down the middle of the street. Sam thought it was a bad idea. A shot rang out and he instinctually crouched. The officer took off running. Another shot and the officer ran even faster. Sam thought he was the fastest person he’d ever seen.

  The Americans and Filipinos opened fire and the sniping stopped. Sam watched in fascination as the bazooka team fired into the building and the tanks followed soon after. When the smoke cleared he let out a long whistle. He pointed, “They destroyed the entire building with just a few shots. No wonder we were ordered to wait for them. They’re like gods.”

  Felipe shook his head. “They bleed the same way we do, Sam.”

  After watching the Americans with their big guns and overwhelming firepower, Sam wanted to get back in the fight. The American tanks busted through the outer walls and flooded into the last Japanese holdout.

  The Filipino fighters sat behind cover, unsure of what to do. Sam paced back and forth listening to the far-off sounds of fighting. He looked up as a low flying American fighter plane zoomed past. The guns on the wings blazed and he could see the empty shell casings falling to the ground. He was frustrated, he wanted to be a part of the action. He wanted to avenge his sister and grandmother. He wanted to kill more Japanese.