"When I arrived here, my platoon had thirty-five men and I was a PFC. When we pulled out, there was just eight of us. I was a sergeant and was in charge of the platoon because everybody else was dead or badly wounded. The ear was infected and I was going to lose it and some of my hearing, but I didn't know that at the time. It doesn't matter anyhow. I'm just goddamn glad to be getting the hell off Okinawa.
"Guys, I just want to remind you how the Japs fight. They don't have any air cover to call in and help them like we do, and they really don't have any artillery, so by rights it shouldn't even be a fair fight. With all our firepower, we should be able to blast their asses right out of our way and walk into Tokyo. Only thing is, they don't know that and they won't cooperate. What they like to do is lay low, take whatever beating they have to from our guns and planes, and then when we're right up close, start fighting. What I'm saying is, they like to wait until we're too close to them to call in air or artillery for fear of hitting ourselves. Then they fight like motherfuckers."
Gleason mentally inventoried the weapons among the assembled men. "I sure as hell am glad that someone has some sense and has gotten you boys a lot more BARs and Thompsons than normal. You're gonna need a lot of short-range firepower when you fight them bastards up close. And don't forget to take all the ammo you can possibly carry because some of the little yellow flicks will stay hidden until you pass by and then try to pick off people carrying supplies up to the lines. When you fight the Japs, there ain't no safety in the rear, so don't close your eyes and don't take nothing for granted.
"And when you shoot them, don't just shoot them once. Do it a dozen times if you have to, 'cause they're like snakes and won't die. You cut off the head of a snake and it'll still try to bite you, and the Japs are just like fucking snakes." Gleason had turned pale and the trembling had spread to his other hand. "You can blow off their arms and legs and they'll still crawl up to you with a grenade in their mouth." His voice had become strident and it was chillingly apparent that he was recalling a specific incident.
Second Lieutenant Marcelli, a recent addition to the unit, was standing by Paul. "Jesus," Marcelli said, "I wonder what the poor son of a bitch dreams of at night."
Paul nodded silently. He wondered what his own dreams would be like if he ever made it back to Michigan.
Mackensen put his hand on Gleason's shoulder, whispered something to the young sergeant. Gleason nodded, paused, and regained some control of himself. "Like I said, I was here, so this place has some real memories. Over there"- he waved with his arm- "is what they're now calling the Cave of the Virgins. You know how it got its name?"
Some did. Paul had heard the rumor, but, as before, no one dared to answer.
Gleason wiped his forehead. He had begun sweating profusely and it was far from warm out. "There were maybe eighty Jap nurses in there, all young women, and a lot of them real pretty. They all killed themselves in that cave rather than be taken alive by Americans. The little fools were convinced we were going to rape and kill them, and then eat their dead bodies." Gleason shuddered. "I went into the cave and saw them. They were all lyin' there with their eyes wide-open and deader'n shit for no reason. Some of them weren't even sixteen."
For a moment it looked as if Sergeant Gleason wasn't going to say anything more. Then he pointed to a place on the hill where they were assembled. A large pile of rocks looked as if they had been freshly gathered and placed there.
"Behind them rocks," Gleason added, "was another cave. This one didn't have no virgins in it, just Jap soldiers. Maybe there was some civilians farther back, but I never saw them. The Japs fired at us from the mouth of the cave and we shot in. There used to be an overhang, so our artillery and planes couldn't get at it, although they tried like hell. When we got close enough, we used flamethrowers, but they just went farther back in the cave and came back out when we stopped to see if they were dead. After a while, we gave up shooting at them and dynamited the overhang so that it fell into the mouth of the cave and sealed it up. End of Japs, end of problem."
Paul gasped. The Japs had been buried alive! Everyone in the company with even the slightest hint of claustrophobia felt sickened at the prospect of being sealed in a cave with nothing to do but wait in the total darkness for the oxygen to run out. Paul wondered whether he would have killed himself or would have gone mad first if he had been sealed in a cave for all eternity.
Gleason stepped over to the pile and patted a large rock. "Who knows, maybe some of them are still alive in there. We don't know how deep those caves are, and how much air there might be. Maybe they can sorta hear us talking about them. Maybe they're digging their way out right now after living on the flesh of their dead comrades and drinking their blood for their thirst."
The men looked nervously at the ground as if expecting skeletal hands to emerge and grab them.
"Sergeant Gleason," Ruger asked, "how many would you say were in this cave?"
Gleason shrugged. "Couldn't tell at all. Only saw the ones who were shooting at us. Could've been a few, could've been hundreds."
"And were there other caves around here, Sergeant?"
Gleason nodded. "Lotsa caves, sir. Caves all over this flicking place and a lot of Japs now buried in them too, sir."
Captain Ruger dismissed Sergeant Gleason, who was gently led away by Mackensen. Once again, Ruger climbed on his rock.
"Men, I had Sergeant Gleason tell you his story for a reason. Our training is over, and we're now going back to camp and begin to pack and get organized to ship out. We've only a couple of days left before we're on a boat heading towards Japan. I want you to know I'm proud of you and the effort you've all put in. Let's get moving."
As the men trudged down the hill in a ragged column, Paul knew that he was more afraid of the unknown than he had ever been in his life. When he looked at the faces of his comrades, he could see that same fear reflected in theirs as well.
CHAPTER 26
Dennis Chambers reveled in the unaccustomed delight of eating C rations and ignored Joe Nomura's laughing at him.
"If you don't mind," Joe said, "I'll stick with rice. I've had enough of government food to last a while."
Dennis sighed and munched on a cracker. He'd already devoured the meat portion- whatever it was had been a vast improvement on insects and the occasional rodent- and was saving both the chocolate bar and hard candy for dessert. He'd had to drink the instant coffee cold, but it was still wonderful, as was the powdered lemonade, which contained vitamin C. Already he could feel his gums getting better as his mild case of scurvy was defeated.
After the food, maybe the best part of the C-ration package was the toilet paper, although the cigarettes came in a close second. He never was a heavy smoker, but being able to wipe his behind with something soft was an incredible delight.
After only a couple of days, Dennis felt his strength and health truly returning. Joe had helped make a proper shelter against the weather, which had now turned rainy. It wasn't the Waldorf-Astoria, but it was much drier and warmer than what he'd had either in the POW camp or on the hill where he'd first hidden.
Dennis now knew that Joe had no intention of telling him where he went when he disappeared on his patrols, and he'd also not shown Dennis where the radio and other supplies were cached. That was fine. If captured, he couldn't divulge what he didn't know. Dennis did wonder if the Japs would believe his tale, under torture, of a one-armed Japanese American spying on them. He knew that Nomura had laid a good deal of his own safety and future on the line for a man he didn't really know.
For the foreseeable future, Dennis was content to be able to survive. From what Nomura told him and from what he'd heard before being shot down, the invasion of Japan would happen real soon. He would wait for that day and grow strong. He would return to Barb and they would live happily ever after, he thought with a laugh.
"Enough," said Joe. He wiped scraps of food from his face with his hand.
"How 'bout a drink?" asked Dennis.
/>
"When I come back, but you help yourself, okay? Just don't get drunk."
Joe was right. When Dennis had first had a couple of swallows of the Scotch they'd taken from the Jap pilots, it had nearly knocked him out. "I'll wait." He grinned. "I never did like drinking alone."
Dennis again settled into the shrubs to wait. Something was happening down in the nearby camps, and Joe was trying to confirm it. Joe was upset enough that he didn't even mention what it was he'd noticed, although, upon reflection, Dennis thought it likely that it was something else Joe didn't want him to know about. It was, Dennis realized, just another mystery he would have to deal with.
PART TWO
THE INVASION PLAN
CHAPTER 27
General Anami had been drunk for a while. The other two senior officers, more recently arrived at the command bunker, were still relatively sober. The Americans were coming and it had reached the point where the generals and admirals could not prevent a landing. It would be up to the soldiers and sailors of Nippon to destroy the invaders. In a way it was a relief.
Anami waved his hand to get their attention as they gathered about the table in the safety of the bunker. His gesture was impolite, but the others ignored the breach of etiquette.
"Kyushu," the general said with only the hint of a slur in his voice. "It will be Kyushu. Of that there is no doubt."
General Anami did not necessarily see such confidence in his declaration in the eyes of the others. Admiral Toyoda was openly worried, and Field Marshal Sugiyama looked away when he heard the statement. They were all thinking the same thing: the right decision meant Japan had a chance of ultimate victory, but the wrong one would result in total disaster and an end to the Japan they revered. They had focused on defending the island of Kyushu, but now they had doubts.
"But what if we are wrong," Toyoda wondered aloud. "If the Americans choose to attack elsewhere, such as Korea, Shikoku, or, God forbid, the Kanto Plain outside Tokyo itself, we would be hard-pressed to stop them. Indeed, we would never stop them."
Anami slapped the table with the flat of his hand. The sharp noise made the others wince. "Kyushu. It will only be Kyushu! Nothing else makes sense. We know how the Americans fight. They are cowards who depend on the weight of their supplies to overwhelm us, instead of fighting at close range like warriors should. For this they need bases and air cover. For them to attack Shikoku or the Kanto Plain would be for them to ignore those needs. No, they will not attack Tokyo without supply depots and land-based air cover. Like us, the Americans are out of options."
Anami chuckled. "I recall that the late and revered Admiral Yamamoto liked to play the American game of poker, which he learned during his tour of duty at our embassy in Washington. I also recall that he taught it to us."
Admiral Toyoda smiled at the memory. "I lost a great deal of money to Yamamoto in a vain attempt to master that game."
Anami wondered what the great Yamamoto would have recommended they do in a situation such as this. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Yamamoto, the architect of the attack on Pearl Harbor, would have counseled surrender. Yamamoto was one of a number of commanders who had worn the cloak of Bushido lightly. It was as if his years in the United States had softened him. Perhaps it was better for their sacred cause that Yamamoto lived on only in memory.
Anami sighed. "To use another American saying, we must play the cards we've been dealt. We are in desperate straits, but we still have some good cards in our hand. First, they must come to us and fight on our homelands, which our military will defend with every drop of blood in their veins. Second, we know exactly what they will do and when they will do it."
The others nodded reluctant agreement. Their actions had been based on a briefing by the brilliant Maj. Eizo Hori of the General Staff. Hori, legendary as a result of his earlier assessments of American intentions, had forecasted the attacks on Iwo Jima, Saipan, and Okinawa with stunning clarity. Japan's tragedy was that she'd been unable to do anything to stop them.
This time would be different. Hori had determined that Kyushu, and only Kyushu, would be the target of the first American assault, and that the attack would occur after October, when the typhoon season was considered over. Hori had then traveled to Kyushu and interviewed
Lt. Gen. Isamu Yokoyama, the commander of the Sixteenth Military District, which comprised Kyushu. He had then hiked the paths and traveled over the stark beaches of the forbidding island.
Hori concluded that the Americans were going to attack in only three places, and that they would attack more than one of them at a time in an attempt to overwhelm the Japanese defenders. The three places were the west side of the Satsuma Peninsula, Ariake Bay on the east side of Kyushu, and the land south of the city of Miyazaki, which was also on the eastern part of the island. No other places made sense. America's goals would be to establish bases in the bays of Kagoshima and Ariake and use them to launch a final assault on the Kanto Plain. Once lodged on Kyushu, the Americans would be almost impossible to dislodge. Thus, it was absolutely essential that they be defeated before securing bases on Kyushu.
Hori's logic convinced both Anami and Yokoyama, who subsequently developed their plans based on those assessments. Anami and the others had seen nothing to change their minds in the ensuing months. All American efforts hinted at by intelligence sources that allegedly aimed at Formosa or Korea, or anywhere else for that matter, were dismissed as feints. The landings would come on Kyushu, and they would come soon. Already there were reports that large American forces had left the Philippines and that others would soon leave Okinawa.
General Sugiyama sipped his drink. "General Yokoyama has deployed fifty-two thousand men to repel landings on the Satsuma Peninsula, sixty-one thousand men at Miyazaki, and another fifty-five thousand men at Ariake Bay. Altogether he will defend the coast with sixteen infantry divisions plus a number of fixed coastal brigades as a first line of defense. They will be quickly reinforced by four additional infantry divisions and three tank brigades once the exact strength and direction of the American attacks are ascertained."
"Tanks?" Admiral Toyoda queried with a smile and a suppressed giggle. The small and underarmed Japanese tanks were monumentally inferior to their American counterparts. What armor the Japanese army possessed had worked well against the Chinese, who had even less, but the American Sherman tank outclassed anything the Japanese had, presuming that Japanese tanks could find their way to the battlefield under the watching eyes of American planes.
"Our tanks," Sugiyama responded with a trace of bitterness, "along with other reinforcements, will move at night to places where they can be dug in and hidden. They will then function as relatively stationary defensive weapons."
"Good," said Toyoda in an attempt to mollify the prickly field marshal.
Sugiyama regained his usual boisterous confidence. "There are now more than six hundred thousand men on Kyushu with more arriving daily. The Americans will be crushed."
Anami nodded. "And what about American airpower?" Far too many of the enormous Japanese army on Kyushu were on the northern part. They would have to travel overland to reach the southern portion where the initial battles would take place.
Sugiyama shrugged dismissively. "Airpower has never yet won a war. Their planes will hinder us, but they will not stop us. As we will do with the tanks, we will make every effort to move our infantry at night, and in small groups if they must travel during the day. That way their planes won't see us. It will make it difficult for us to coordinate any large-scale attacks, but again, it will not stop us. Even now our men are swarming over the hills to the south of Kyushu where the decisive battle will be fought. General Yokoyama will have our men form defensive lines and independent strongpoints rather than waste themselves on piecemeal attacks that would be decimated by overwhelming American firepower. While attack may be the preferred method of fighting for the Japanese soldier, I concur with General Yokoyama that a fierce defense would better serve our poor country."
> General Anami agreed. It would be far better for the Americans to impale themselves on Japanese defenses than for it to be the other way around. He had no doubt that the Americans would ultimately be able to force themselves through the first line of defenses on Kyushu. It was only intended that they pay a terrible price for the privilege.
"Admiral?" Anami asked as he turned to the senior naval officer.
Toyoda also reflected confidence. "The Americans will bleed from a million wounds. We have amassed more than ten thousand kamikaze planes, along with a thousand Ohka piloted rockets. That is more than six times what we used with such devastating effect at Okinawa. The pilots have been instructed to leave the picket ships alone and to go for the troopships and carriers only. They are not to squander themselves on unimportant targets like destroyers and other small ships."
They recalled the efforts wasted on the American picket destroyers at Okinawa. It was reputed that one destroyer, the Laffey, had been hit by twenty kamikazes, a total waste of effort. Anami wasn't even certain that the Laffey had been sunk after all that effort.
"There are," Toyoda announced proudly, "still more than a dozen destroyers and fifty submarines remaining in our fleet. The destroyers will all attack, as will those submarines not in use ferrying soldiers from Korea or currently on other duties. We have more than four hundred midget submarines as well as thousands of smaller craft which have been equipped with mines, bombs, and torpedoes. While many of the men sailing in them are not true kamikazes, all have pledged to press their attacks with vigor."
"Good," said Anami.
Toyoda bowed at the brief compliment. "As Field Marshal Sugiyama has said, our efforts to launch the attacks and to carry them out will be handicapped by the American planes, but not halted. Our aircraft and naval forces are dispersed and well hidden. We had hoped to be able to launch our attacks on their shipping as one overwhelming wave of planes and ships, but the disruptions to our communications will prevent that. Instead, our forces will attack as they receive the orders to do so. This may be a blessing in disguise as the result will be many days of continuous warfare, which will strain and exhaust the Americans at the most critical time of the battle."
1945 Page 15
