Bombers were clearly aiming at the hills around there and Mount Peter, to the north of Hill 353. The Japanese had installed a sentry post in Mount Peter due to its good vantage point, not to mention Hill 353. Kasuga thought the enemy must have gotten information about Ramree Garrison through spying or aerial photog-raphy. If it were not true, the enemy couldn’t carry on such a tenacious attack there. However much Jinno might worry, the enemy had known Japanese positions for a long time.
A dead silence fell abruptly; the hostile operation might have gone into a new phase. Kasuga scanned the outside of the bunker. He couldn’t find any aircraft; in their place, the blue sky was very serene.
The scene around the camp had been altered completely. The bombardments had uprooted the trees, dimpled the hill, and destroyed many trenches. Equipment and weapons had been buried under dirt. It was hard to dig them out quickly because the shovels and picks had also been embedded in the soil. Soldiers smeared with dirt wandered weaponless, already expressing signs of defeat.
The sole consolation was the lack of casualties. Considering the violence of the bombing, it was almost a miracle.
Tomita Squad had been left alone until early in that evening, when Jinno finally appeared. “A village named Gonchwein lies at the north foot of Mount Peter,” Jinno said, “and a defile goes through there toward Kyaukphyu Plain. A landing party has already occupied this village and is advancing further southward toward Ondaw Village, which is next to Gonchwein. Have you ever been to Ondaw?”
“No, I haven’t,” answered Tomita.
“It doesn’t matter now. Ondaw is within a stone’s throw of Hill 353. If it is broken through, the enemy will be able to encircle Hill 353 easily. You and your men are to stop it.”
Tomita fell silent, as did Kasuga. Jinno resumed the briefing, indifferent to his subordinates’ dismay. “Machine Gun Second Platoon was attached to the rifle platoon of the vanguard. They have gone ahead. Tomita Squad is just a backup. Go and take care of things.”
Jinno then disappeared without giving any information about how large the enemy force was or where the vanguard was. Kasuga couldn’t believe such irre-sponsibility. But once the commander had given an order, they had no option but to follow through.
Four gunners normally attended to each model ninety-two heavy machine gun: Gunner number one was a right wing watcher; number two watched the left wing; the man in charge of loading was the number three; and number four was a marksman.
Kasuga and the other three disassembled their machine gun and carried the barrel and tripod parts on their shoulders. Then they descended the hill with Tomita at the top. Four ammo bearers followed them, holding Type Ko ammunition boxes. Horses usually carried those items, but Kasuga had not seen one on that island. Soldiers were substitutes for horses. It was quite tough for a soldier to go down a slope with the barrel weighing nearly sixty kilograms on his shoulder.
When Kasuga and the others managed to reach the defile at the foot of the hill, the setting sun had already ducked behind the top of Hill 353. Silence reigned all around and made Kasuga feel that the fierce attack that morning had been a dream.
“Sarge, do you know where our vanguards are?” asked Kasuga.
“How am I supposed to know that? I’m here as I’m told. Keep Mount Peter on the left, and go straight on this road. Maybe it will take us to Ondaw. They are somewhere along the way.”
Tomita carried a toolbox containing spare parts and assembling wrenches for the gun, and ragged binoculars with moldy lenses dangled from his neck. But he didn’t have a map. He hadn’t been issued a map.
“How can we join a friendly troop properly?” Kasuga asked himself, anxious from suffering under the heavy weight of the barrel. Just then, a voice called out to them.
“Hi! Over here, guys!”
Kasuga scanned the dreary field of tall, dead grass on their left side. Several windmill palms stood facing the road. A stocky man, who looked like an NCO of the rifle platoon, was beckoning. Tomita immediately ran to him.
The man said, “We’ve set our first line over this wasteland, just where the grass fades out. You see? Ondaw isn’t so far. You can see a bank over there, can’t you? Set your machine gun under the bank. Engli will probably come along this road. When they come out from the corner of that woods, sweep them away. We’ll take your fire as a signal, and catch them in a crossfire.”
“Covering the left first line? OK, I’ve got it. Leave it to us. Where’re the attached machine guns, then?” asked Tomita.
“You mean HMG? Heavy machine guns?”
“Yeah, what else?”
“Yours is the only heavy machine gun we have here,” stated the stocky man.
“What?”
Still suspicious, they went into the dreary field and advanced further, as they had been told. The vanguard came into view when they reached the bank. Soldiers were deployed along a breastwork made in haste. According to a sergeant major commanding there, their firepower was merely two-squad strength with no mortar support. It was much less than expected. And, they could find no heavy machine gun but their own. The vanguard only had two light machine guns and a grenade discharger, apart from rifles. Second Platoon, the attached HMG to
Sixth Company, should take part in that kind of action. No one knew why their Fifth Platoon had been sent instead.
The sergeant major thanked them over and over. On the other side, all of Tomita Squad turned pale when they heard that the enemy moving southward was one-battalion strength. The whole strength of Ramree Garrison was merely one battalion. A simple calculation told them that the vanguard must take on an opponent eighteen times larger. Kasuga understood why the sergeant major was so thankful for even one machine gun.
The sergeant major did not want to intimidate the HMG guys, who had
kindly come to strengthen his forces. He humored them, saying, “I heard engineers had destroyed all the bridges in the village and had laid mines between Ondaw and Gonchwein. So those damned tanks can’t come here. That’s good, because we don’t have any armor-piercing mines here right now.” And with that the sergeant major returned to his position hurriedly.
“Has the platoon commander cheated us, Sarge?” Hirono said abruptly.
Tomita made a sour face. “Yeah, I think so. That stinker probably fawned on the company commander. He might recommend making us the sacrifice. It’s one of that grinder’s daily point-scorings.”
Tomita Squad set the machine gun at the very left wing of the first line. A clearing offered a good view in front of them, and they could see defoliated woods beyond that. Kasuga pointed the gun at the hem of the woods, into where the left-curving defile vanished. Then a rifleman squatting right next to them cried out. “Enemy sighted in front!”
But Kasuga couldn’t see beyond the corner because some tree trunks blocked his view. He released the safety on the gun by twisting the trigger button. He scrutinized the woods carefully and felt his eyes throb with pain, thanks to the tension of facing a real battle. Before long, his aching eyes captured some moving figures on the road through the woods. They were British soldiers. Though each man held a rifle at the ready, they were all standing upright. Nobody was crouch-ing or deploying. They came straight toward them in a close formation. Kasuga didn’t know whether they were brave or stupid. Tomita whispered while peering through his binoculars. “Don’t shoot yet. Those trunks are in the way. Wait until they finish rounding the corner.”
Suddenly the shrill crack of rifle fire shattered the quiet. Somebody at the right wing must have been unable to tolerate the tension any longer.
“What a mess! A damned greenhorn shot without asking. Haven’t they been told to wait for a sweep of HMG?” Tomita gritted his teeth with anger.
But it was too late. He had no time to feel angry. The British dispersed in the twinkling of an eye; the Japanese had to attack ahead of the enemy vanguard. But the enemy fired first. The clatter of hostile light machine gun fire started in the woods, and streaks of bullets stuck into the
clearing, kicking up dust. The British vanguard apparently had a Bren gun. With reinforcements joining, the enemy gunfire soon became fiercer. Kasuga realized that a shower of bullets had been fired in his direction. Although they all wanted to fire back, no one could pin-point the enemy lineup. Attackers and defenders had completely changed positions in a short period of time. Panic-stricken, Kasuga clung to the grips.
“Hey, Kasu, can you see that bamboo thicket at about two o’clock?” A vigorous and confident voice rose in the middle of the Bren gun’s reports. It was Tomita.
Kasuga squinted his eyes and saw a small, dense thicket growing low bamboos.
“Yes, I can.”
“Fine! Now, deliver thirty rounds in there, right? Hit the front of the bamboo thicket! It’s about one hundred meters away!”
Kasuga readjusted an elevation and repeated back the order. “Distance, one hundred meters. Right!”
“Fire!”
At Tomita’s command, Kasuga pushed the trigger.
Spitting out yellow muzzle fire, the model ninety-two heavy machine gun roared. Its low-pitched stuttering sound, characteristic of the model, echoed throughout the area. Kasuga frantically hammered away, almost blindly. He delivered some rounds with his eyes shut. However, after he had emptied all the rounds on the strip, the enemy light machine gun had gone silent. A hush had fallen over the clearing and the woods.
Suddenly a scream burst out from the thicket. Someone was yelling something in English. The British might have suffered some casualties. The scream continued, and another shout went up. Certainly the enemy LMG men had been lurking in that very thicket. Tomita’s eyes had been searching for the enemy position while all others had flinched from the vehemence of the barrage. Kasuga was impressed with Tomita’s coolness.
“It’s getting darker now, Hirono,” Tomita said. “Hit it with more tracers this time!”
Hirono quickly beckoned ammo bearers. Just when they were about to reload a spare strip, Kasuga heard a strange noise in the rising wind. A continuous sound pricked up his ears. Hirono was also straining to hear. The sound gradually got clearer; the two were surprised and looked at each other. It was the exhaust note of an engine. Tomita peeped into the binoculars. “Oh, shit! They have a tank! I wasn’t told about that!”
There was no need to wait around. They had already seen a thick cloud of dust rising up over the woods, and they could hear the rattle of the tracks on the trail. “Hey, let’s pull back! Prepare for a crawl.”
Tomita ordered Kasuga and the other three gunners to drag their machine gun and flee to a safer zone. It was far beyond the management responsibility of Tomita, who was nothing more than a squad leader NCO. If things went wrong, what they were going to do might be considered desertion in the face of the enemy. It might well end up in a court-martial. Kasuga objected. “Can we retreat without permission?”
Tomita snapped, “You moron! Look around you!”
Kasuga looked around the battlefield. Soldiers at the left line were furiously packing equipment into their knapsacks, their faces stiff with fear. They were obviously preparing to retreat. Then he turned back and noticed some distant dead grass rustling unnaturally. Apparently some had already started pulling back in the wasteland. He looked further, only to see that the right wing nearer to the enemy front had emptied. He was astounded and looked up at Tomita.
Tomita said, “Now, listen! Those guys don’t have any armor-piercing mines. How do we cope with a damned tank? Tanks will aim at our machine gun first!”
“Kasu, do as you’re told right now, or the shells will come! I don’t want to do a banzai charge. Not in such a dismal place!” Hirono also hurried him. He had already begun pushing the rear carrying handle of the gun. There was no more time to think about options, orders, or strategy. Kasuga held the front handle of the tripod. Crawling, the four gunners managed to move the gun into the dead grass, out of sight. Everyone dropped back. But the bulk and weight of the machine gun hampered them. Crawling on wasteland made progress difficult.
Suddenly Kasuga noticed that all the riflemen around them had gone.
A tank gun was terrifying, for sure. But it was even more terrifying that he had been left behind in the middle of the front line. Kasuga was worried that at any moment an enemy soldier might break through the dead grass with a bayonet-attached rifle in his hands and charge at him. Everyone crawled without a saying a word. Finally Tomita broke the silence. “OK, boys, it seems safe now. Change to four-man conveyance.”
Members timidly stood up by ones and twos. They saw some windmill palms standing along the defile through dead grass. They remembered them well. It was the very place where the stocky NCO had spoken to them. Hill 353 wasn’t far from there.
Kasuga held the tripod with the other three gunners. Shouting together in a harmony, they lifted it up on their shoulders like a mikoshi, the portable shrine of their homeland. When Kasuga braced himself to resist its weight, a howling sound rang out. It was the whiz of a rushing cannonball ripping the air.
He cast a hasty glance backward, and he saw what looked like a high-explosive shell, discharged by an enemy tank gun, exploding on the far bank with a tremendous roar. It was exactly where Tomita Squad had positioned the machine gun before moving it. All were transfixed at the sight. More shells burst there in a row before their eyes. The dry field caught fire at once. Bright flames rose into the sky. Its color was dark and deep, and Kasuga didn’t know the sunset until he saw it.
When Second Lieutenant Yoshihisa Sumi woke up, dusk had fallen. He hurriedly propped himself up. First Class Private Takahashi came into the cell, just as he had ordered.
“We’re all ready for departure, Lieutenant. We’d like to ask for your advice,” said Takahashi.
“How are the boats?”
“We got them, and they’re moored at the mouth of the Taungup River. The party is also assembling there now.”
Sumi leaped to his feet and snatched his sword and the Nambu fourteen pistol from the bedside.
“Take me to the place quickly!”
When the two came out of the old temple, clouds in the western sky were dyed in blazing orange. Night was just around the corner, causing Sumi to fret.
Kicking up dust, the two ran along the dry coast road, dented badly by oxcarts. They came down a grassy knoll facing the river mouth and cleared a small bank. Then a rather wretched settlement burst into view. It was the town of Taungup. Every house facing the water had a raised foundation, built above the surface.
As Takahashi had said, all the members of the group were standing together in an open space where local bazaars sometimes took place. Sergeant Kokichi Shimizu confirmed their arrival and commanded all to fall in line in a perfunc-tory manner. Sumi called Superior Private Yoshioka and Pondgi.
“How many boats did you get?”
“Five, sir. We also got a Burmese steersman for each,” answered Yoshioka.
“Good! Take me to where they are.”
Following the two, he passed through meandering alleys between many scruffy private houses and reached the waterfront.
The five boats were moored at a floating bridge installed to connect several elevated houses. All were rather crude sportfishing boats with no special equipment. Each hull was small, and the loading capacity was limited to about twenty men for each. However hard it would be, the soldiers would have to pack themselves in like baggage. Sumi also noticed that all five were very ragged and old.
Almost all the paint had long since worn off. And the diesel engines were no more than patchy conversions from British secondhand trucks.
Sumi was disappointed.
Pondgi said nonchalantly with a carefree smile, “Master Sumi, are you worried because the ships are old? They are surely old, but they are well maintained. The engines are powerful, and the steersmen are trained, the same as Japanese soldiers. They know the Burmese seas, and they go everywhere.”
Sumi forced a smile and then thanked them for their efforts. “Well done
. You did a good job in this short time. I’m pleased to get such nice boats.” It wasn’t a dig. Nothing was more important than a fast departure.
Sumi returned to the open space and heard Shimizu report that his men had completed all preparations: provisions, arms, ammunition, medical supplies, Burmese attire for disguise, and so forth. Everything was ready. They said Second Lieutenant Kakegawa, Sumi’s sidekick from the same reserve officer candidate school, had come from the 121st Infantry Regiment HQ and even taught them how to use the Sten gun. Due to deficiencies in nine-millimeter pistol cartridges, live firing exercises had been short, but every tankette gunner had learned it.
Sumi was delighted at the news, to say nothing of Kakegawa’s favor.
Also, two signalmen with a type five transmitter-receiver had come from Tankette Fifth Company HQ to join them, thanks to Captain Yoda’s generosity. In addition, Pondgi introduced a thin Burmese to Sumi. His name was Manboy.
Manboy said he knew the Heywood Channel well and would like to pilot them.
Sumi approved without reluctance.
However, they had ended up with a big group of sixteen: one commander, one vice-commander, twelve rank-and-files including two signalmen, and two Burmese. Considering they must take in garrison soldiers on their way back, he saw the number as too big. Sumi remembered Takahashi, his batman, was an only son and the heir of a farmhouse. He took off his sword silently and handed it over to Takahashi. “When you go back to the unit, put this in my trunk.”
Takahashi realized that his commander was leaving him behind. “Please, take me with you, Lieutenant,” Takahashi pleaded in an almost tearful voice. Sumi shook his head dryly. If Takahashi should get killed, the line of his family would die out.
“No. This duty is too tough for a greenhorn like you. And listen, everybody. A long-distance march is ahead of us. We don’t need the old holding us up.” Sumi picked two elder draftees among them. Each of them managed a household.
“You’d better leave the party. From now, you are under the command of First Squad. Right?”
Dragon of the Mangrooves Page 4
