by Chris Glatte
Eduardo shook his head, “Just the big gun.”
The Nambu’s fire shifted right and Tarkington took the opportunity to take a look. He saw forms darting in front of the flaming truck, moving from the road to the open slope. He ducked down, “A few coming our way, but can’t tell if they’re gonna attack, or just finding cover.” The firing from the right intensified. “We don’t have enough ammo to hold them off for long.”
He aimed downslope, holding his muzzle on the last spot he saw the Japanese soldiers. A muzzle flash pinpointed their position and Tarkington fired just behind the muzzle flash. He was rewarded with return fire. He dropped below the surface and leaned his back against the hole. He saw Winkleman looking at him. “At least they don’t have mortars or artillery.”
“Not yet at least.”
Stollman opened up with the BAR, sending a stream of heavy slugs downslope, then paused, “Japs coming up.”
Tarkington took a look. He saw shapes in the dim light moving erratically up the hill. He steadied his muzzle and fired twice. His target dropped but from this range he doubted he'd hit him. He moved to the next target and fired a five-round burst. He saw the soldier spin away and fall out of sight. The Nambu shifted fire, concentrating on the BAR. As one, 2nd squad dropped deep into their holes, letting the bullets sweep over them harmlessly, but allowing the soldiers to move forward. “We gotta get outta here, dammit.”
Finally came the words he was waiting to hear, “Retreat to the ridge. Retreat!”
25
Tarkington was the last man to leave the defensive line, making sure his squad was well away before following. He took one last glance down the hill and fired a short burst blindly, left to right, then jumped out of the hole and sprinted after his men. He heard someone right beside him and saw Eduardo. “Dammit, I told you to retreat with the others.”
“Retreat, yes. With you.” Despite his recent wound, he was easily keeping up. Tarkington looked past him, seeing the flank trying to disengage with the force of Japanese in the forest. He hoped Lt. Smoker was dealing with the situation. He thought perhaps he should veer that way and help them out, but orders were orders and he continued chugging toward the ridge. A bullet snapped close and he instinctively dodged right and went lower.
He saw the back of Stollman who was being slowed down by the heavy BAR. Vick was with him keeping his gunner close. Vick glanced back at the duo and relaxed when he recognized them. “Jesus, Tark. Thought you were Japs.”
He gasped, “I’m not that ugly, Vick.” He came up beside Stollman. “Come on, move your ass.” He gripped his shoulder and pushed him forward. More bullets snapped and whizzed past.
Stollman redoubled his efforts and lunged forward. Finally, they saw a line of soldiers taking cover and aiming rifles their way. Tarkington raised his hands and waved, yelling, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.” They ran past the line of soldiers and kept running until they recognized 2nd squad, hunched in the dim moonlight, breathing hard. They slid in beside them and Tarkington directed them. “Spread out and find cover, but be ready to move. Wink, report.”
“Second squad accounted for. We’re low on ammo, but we’re all here.”
A flurry of movement from the left got Tarkington’s attention. He saw Captain Glister striding to him with purpose and he stood and snapped off a quick salute. Glister ignored it, “Where’s the rest of first platoon, Sergeant?”
Tarkington pointed right, “Coming up the hill, we were the left flank. The Japs hit the right flank. They were trying to disengage. Lieutenant Smoker ordered us back here.”
There were still muzzle flashes from the forest. Captain Glister assessed their position and finally nodded. “Move your squad behind this line and see if you can lend a hand. I need everyone together up here.”
Tarkington nodded and felt a surge of adrenaline helping his tired muscles. “Yes, sir.” He barked, “Second squad, break’s over. Henry,” he saw Henry glance at him, “You and Raker lead us to the right flank.”
Henry nodded and slapped Raker’s leg as he passed and they trotted toward the firefight. The rest of 2nd squad followed in a loose line.
A minute later they were on the sloped ground leading down to the forest. Tarkington took in the situation. He saw GIs firing and moving up the hill, but the intensity of enemy fire forced them to take cover, making their progress slow. He squinted, trying to find Lt. Smoker, but there wasn’t quite enough light and he only saw darting shapes and muzzle flashes. It was easy to see the enemy position. They were firing from cover with the intensity of troops not concerned about ammunition.
Tarkington crouched beside PFC Henry and Raker, while the rest of the squad set up a loose perimeter. Winkleman joined them. “What’s the plan?”
Tarkington pointed at the Japanese position. “We’re above them. They’re fully engaged.” He licked his lips taking in the whole situation. He pointed right and raised his voice enough for everyone to hear. “Lets move above them and take them from the flank. We’ll start with grenades and give ‘em everything we’ve got, then break away.” He looked around and saw Stollman and Vick, “Stolly, you and Vick find cover and when we're busting our tails back up the hill, cover us with the BAR. Don’t fire until then. Got it?”
Stollman nodded, “Got it, Sarge.”
Tarkington looked around at the dimly-lit faces. “Stay low and quiet. Lead on scouts.” Henry and Raker nodded and moved out but not as fast as before, being careful not to run into any Japanese that might be waiting for such an attack. Eduardo stayed beside Tarkington.
The firing from the GIs trying to escape up the hill had fallen off considerably. Tarkington hoped it was due to lack of ammo, rather than lack of life. There was a sudden uptick in the firing from the area where Captain Glister was and Tarkington realized that the enemy had finally made it up the slope and were engaging. They’d have to make this quick, then get the hell out of there, or they’d surely be cut-off.
They made it to the left flank of the Japanese in the forest without being seen. Despite the lack of return fire, the Japanese were still firing with abandon. Tarkington was grateful for the muzzle flashes marking their positions. Henry stopped and went onto his belly. Raker did the same. Tarkington watched Henry signal: the enemy was within grenade-throwing distance. Tarkington signaled the rest to move forward and spread out.
He watched the GIs slowly move closer with their rifles ready until they were abreast of Henry, then they went onto their bellies. Tarkington moved up until he was near Henry and Raker. He went to his belly and pulled his one remaining grenade off his battle harness. He set it in front of him, put his Thompson beside it and slowly got to his knees. The rest of the squad mimicked him. He looked side to side, seeing their dark silhouettes poised, like snakes ready to strike.
When he was sure everyone was ready, he pulled the pin. It made a slight metallic sound which was drowned out by the Japanese rifles barking continuously. He flicked the lever, reared back and flung the two-pound lump of explosive death toward the muzzle flashes.
He continued to his belly, clutching his Thompson and bringing it to his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed and his head down. A second later his grenade, along with seven others, exploded amid the Japanese. Agonized screams followed. Tarkington pushed himself onto one knee and aimed. He saw movement, adjusted his aim and fired three quick rounds. The rest of his men joined in and the din of fire was overwhelming. He yelled as loud as he could, hoping Smoker, if he were still alive, would understand what was happening. “Get outta there, first platoon. Now!”
He didn’t wait for a response but leveled his muzzle and fired into shapes, silhouettes and muzzle flashes until his magazine ran dry. He swapped out his last mag and got to his feet. He fired twice then yelled, “Second squad, fall back!”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry and Raker stand and run back the way they’d come. He could sense Eduardo still beside him, not willing to leave until he did so. Tarkington saw a Japanese sol
dier dart from cover only yards from him. The closeness startled him, but he quickly adjusted, aimed and filled his chest with three rounds. The Japanese staggered and dropped.
Tarkington spun, slapped Eduardo, who was working the bolt of his rifle. “Come on,” he ordered and took off after the rest of the squad. Seconds later he heard the heavy, controlled bursts of the BAR and saw the long flame from the muzzle, off to his left.
He pumped his legs and felt his lungs burning for air, but he kept charging up the hill. Beside him, Eduardo barely made a sound and Tarkington was sure Eduardo could’ve outdistanced him easily even with his wound, but didn’t want to leave him.
They reached the staging area moments later, at the same time as the BAR fired its last shot. Through gasping breaths, Tarkington yelled, “Cover Stolly and Vick with whatever you’ve got left.” He aimed into the now-dark forest and fired quick, two-round bursts until his magazine emptied.
He saw two dark shapes approach and recognized Stollman and Vick. He glanced at the main slope, where 1st platoon’s right flank had been. He didn’t see any movement and hoped it was because they were already up the hill and away. He couldn’t stick around to find out. “Move out. Back to the top,” he yelled.
Despite burning lungs and legs, the GIs turned and trotted back the way they’d come. They caught up to a group of GIs struggling along, helping wounded men. 2nd squad swarmed around them, helping with the wounded. Tarkington searched the faces, recognizing all of them. He knew there were quite a few missing. Relief flooded him when he saw Lt. Smoker helping a limping soldier.
Tarkington went to the other side of the injured man and put his arm around his waist to take some of the burden off the lieutenant. Smoker glanced his way. Tarkington was shocked. He seemed to have gone through an entire lifetime since he last saw him only hours before. He looked old and tired and barely hanging on. He ignored it, “Good to see you, sir.”
Smoker grunted his reply, “You too, Tark. Was that you back there on the flank?”
Tarkington nodded, “Yes, sir. Captain Glister’s idea. He’s just ahead.”
Lieutenant Smoker nodded and they struggled ahead, having to nearly drag the GI. “I - I lost a lot of men…”
He was going to say more, but Tarkington interrupted. “You did all you could. Let Eduardo take your place. We’ll get him the rest of the way. Glister’s waiting for you.” It wasn’t true but he figured it would take Smoker’s mind off his losses and refocus him on the task at hand. The 1st platoon needed competent commanders if they hoped to survive the next few hours.
Eduardo slipped in between Smoker and the wounded GI, pushing him out of the way. Smoker looked at the diminutive Filipino as though he were from another planet. Eduardo gave him a broad grin. “I good. You go.”
Lt. Smoker took another look at Tarkington and nodded, but still seemed in a fog. Tarkington yelled, “Raker, take the lieutenant to Captain Glister.”
Raker appeared beside him and pulled his arm, “Come on, sir. He’s right up here.” Smoker nodded and allowed the scout to lead him.
The Japanese coming up the bare slope were repulsed, but it took most of Hotel Company’s ammunition. Once all the platoons checked in and gave Captain Glister reports on their condition and remaining ammunition, he had no choice. It was midnight, the moon was low on the horizon and the darkness was reclaiming whatever light it gave off. “We’ve got no choice. We have to retreat off this hill while we still have a chance.” The three remaining platoon leaders and various NCOs nodded their agreement. Glister continued. “Pull the men off the line as quietly as you can. I don’t want the Nips hearing us pulling out. Meet back here in ten minutes or you’ll be left behind.” He looked at each man. “Once assembled we’ll move out right away, with the scouts leading.”
Eight minutes later what remained of Hotel Company was assembled loosely around the top of Mt. Samat. They were shuffled into platoons and soon moved out down the southeast slope in single file. As soon as they entered the south side, the darkness intensified and it was difficult to see the man in front.
Henry, Raker and Eduardo were in line with the other scouts a hundred yards ahead of the main body. Captain Glister briefed them before heading out, telling them he had no real idea if they’d run into trouble. If they did, the plan was to wait until the rest of the company caught up, then charge through any resistance with what little ammo they had and fixed bayonets.
To Henry it was a suicidal plan. If they ran into a large enemy force they’d be cut to pieces as they tried to push through, but he was a lowly private and kept his opinions to himself.
Henry could only see Raker to his right and Eduardo to his left. The other scouts were out there, he could hear them, but he couldn’t see them. He thought they were making far too much noise. They were exhausted and getting sloppy at the exact moment they needed to be at their sharpest.
So far it hadn’t mattered. He figured they were more than halfway down the mountain and they hadn’t seen any sign of Japanese. Captain Glister’s choice of moving down the less populated but thicker southeast slope was paying off.
They’d traversed some difficult terrain, having to bypass a cliff area at one point and skidding down a steep slope alongside a waterfall, which was probably beautiful during the day but terrifying at night. Now they were traveling through thin jungle and the ground was noticeably flatter. Henry figured they were nearly at the base of the mountain, which didn’t make him feel any better. The easier terrain would make it more likely to run into trouble.
He crouched and stopped when he came to a break in the jungle. There was a well-used game trail just in front of him. He didn’t want to cross it before he knew it was safe. He listened to the night sounds but was interrupted when he heard a scout pushing through the jungle as though on a Sunday stroll off to his left, beyond Eduardo. It was obvious the GI wasn’t going to stop and inspect the trail. Sure enough, he continued forward. Henry couldn’t see him, but could hear him perfectly and he cursed under his breath at the man’s carelessness. Gonna get us all killed.
The sound stopped briefly and Henry thought it must be because he’d crossed the smooth, dirt trail. Perhaps he’d wander down it, hoping it would lead to friendly troops. The noise started again, however, when the scout pushed through the jungle on the other side of the trail and resumed his southeasterly march.
There was a sudden scream, followed immediately with multiple rifle shots and Henry saw muzzle flashes in the jungle to his left about where he guessed the scout would be. Henry dropped instantly to his stomach and noticed Eduardo and Raker doing the same. He had his rifle at his shoulder, his last clip in place. Against orders, he hadn’t attached his bayonet. He felt it threw off his aim, and he wouldn’t need it until he was truly out of ammo anyway, at least he hoped not.
There were no more shots and no more screams. The night was unnaturally quiet. The night animals and insects briefly paused with the sudden crashing fire. Henry focused his entire being on listening, smelling and seeing what was beyond in the darkness, but there was nothing. He felt Raker move slightly and he pulled his hand off his rifle and held his palm up hoping to keep him quiet for a few more seconds. Raker stopped moving, though he doubted he could see his signal.
A GI called out from the left, his voice faint and faraway. Henry shook his head slightly, wondering what the scout could possibly be thinking that would make him give away his position like that. There was movement in front and to the left and Henry figured it was the shooters reacting to the voice. He could hear the dull murmur of whispering then the relatively loud sound of humans moving through jungle. It sounded like a lot of soldiers and gave Henry goosebumps, despite the warm night. They weren’t getting out of here without a fight, apparently.
He waved his hand, and got Eduardo’s attention. The Filipino slithered close, his normally smiling face looked worried. Henry whispered in his ear. “Go back and bring second squad here.” Eduardo nodded and disappeared the way they’d
come without a sound. Raker nearly made it to Henry’s side before Henry heard him. He looked right and motioned him closer. He whispered, “We’ll hang tight. I sent Eduardo back to get Tark and the others. We’ll have a better chance of getting through these guys with second squad.” Raker nodded, moved away a couple of feet and nudged up against a thick tree trunk.
Long minutes passed before Eduardo finally returned with the rest of 2nd squad. Tarkington slithered forward on his belly, following Eduardo’s every move until he was beside his lead scout. “What you got?”
“Japs. Lots of ‘em, moving east toward that idiot that yelled. I think the shooting was a careless scout dying.”
The callousness of the statement would’ve surprised, and even angered, Tarkington even a month ago, but now it was normal. They were in survival mode, pure and simple. “The rest of the company’s bottled-up, wondering what the hell’s going on. They’re moving forward to contact. Once they do, the fireworks’ll start.”
Henry seethed, “We need to stop ‘em. We might be able to get around them by swinging west.”
Tarkington nodded. “They’re about to burst at the seams and once they do, they’ll be no stopping them.”
Gunfire suddenly erupted to the left and Tarkington instinctively ducked. There were flashes and zipping tracers lancing into the night. There was a smattering of return fire, which was immediately answered with a throaty and heavy onslaught. It looked as though you could walk across the tracer fire. “There’s at least two, probably three Nambus out there,” yelled Tarkington. For an instant he was frozen in indecision. The 2nd squad was relatively safe here, with no obvious enemy to their front, but the rest of the company was in deep shit. He pushed himself to his knees and ordered, “We’ll move forward and hit their flank.”
