by Len Levinson
"Banzai!” screamed Captain Shimoyama, swinging his samurai sword in circles over his head, where it flashed in the moonlight. "Attack!”
The Japanese soldiers burst into view, and Butsko yelled: “Open fire!”
His submachine gun rested on the top of the hole and he pulled the trigger. The submachine gun erupted and sparks shot out of the barrel along with hot .45-caliber bullets. He raked from side to side behind the submachine gun, spraying the Japs from left to right and then back again. The first wave of Japanese soldiers was sliced up by the bullets, and many of the Japanese soldiers fell to the ground, dead or wounded, but the rest continued their charge.
Next to Butsko, Pfc. Shaw pulled the trigger of his Arisaka rifle as fast as he could, working the bolt each time, wishing he had an M 1, which was a semiautomatic weapon that had no bolt to operate. Shaw didn't aim carefully; he just held the Arisaka rifle steady and pulled the trigger as fast as he could, because he couldn't miss. The entire jungle in front of him was filled with Japs.
Longtree and Nutsy also rapid-fired their Arisaka rifles, and on the far side the hole Bannon fired his submachine gun, mowing down Japs like wheat in a field. But live Japs jumped over dead Japs, maintaining the momentum of the charge, and in front of all the Japs was an officer wearing eyeglasses and waving his samurai sword above his head, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Captain Shimoyama's mouth was as dry as paper and his uniform was soaked with sweat as he ran forward. He couldn't believe he was alive, because he could see the Americans ahead of him, firing their weapons, and he could hear his men crying out in pain behind him. He was naked and alone in front of his men, and bullets whizzed past his head and shoulders, legs and arms, and a few even zipped between his legs. But he had only about ten more yards to go, and then he would be in the hole with the Americans, decapitating them with his samurai sword, winning glory for himself and his Emperor—if he lived that long!
"Banzai!” he yelled. "Banzai!”
Sergeant Cameron woke up upon hearing the echo of the first fusillade; it didn't sound very far away. Rolling onto his stomach, he turned in the direction of the firing. Around him, other men awakened and looked in the same direction.
“Lieutenant Thurmond?” he said.
“I'm awake,” replied Lieutenant Thurmond, who had been sleeping a few feet from Sergeant Cameron. He, too, was peering into the jungle. “Sounds like trouble.”
“Must be Butsko,” Sergeant Cameron said. “I think we'd better go help him.”
“I think you're right.” Lieutenant Thurmond scrambled to his feet and put on his helmet. His mouth tasted like shit and his head was heavy with dreams. "Everybody up, on the double!” he yelled. "Prepare to move out! Let's go!”
All across that part of the jungle, men got to their feet and wrapped their cartridge belts around their waists. They shoved their arms into the shoulder straps of their field packs and picked up their weapons.
"Column of ducks over here!” Sergeant Cameron ordered, slinging his carbine over his shoulder. "Move your fucking asses! We ain't got all night!”
ELEVEN . . .
The Japanese soldiers jumped over the bodies of their fallen comrades as they dashed over the final few yards that separated them from the hole, where the GIs fired their weapons as quickly as they could. The Japanese soldiers were so close, Butsko could see the expressions on their faces and the insignia on their collars. He knew they would be in the hole in a matter of seconds, and the time had come to get out and fight hand-to-hand.
"Up and at ‘em!” he yelled. "Follow me!”
In one mighty leap Butsko was out of the hole, standing on the same ground as the Japanese soldiers who rampaged toward him. He gripped his submachine gun tightly, clasped the butt against the right side of his waist, and pulled the trigger. The bullets ripped into the Japanese soldiers, tearing huge holes in their bodies, but the forward momentum of the Japs carried them on, and they fell at Butsko's feet.
Butsko waded into them, sweeping the barrel of his submachine gun from left to right and right to left, mowing them down. He fired point-blank at a Japanese soldier, and the big bullets of the submachine gun blasted the Japanese soldier's head into hamburger. Butsko pivoted and fired at another Japanese soldier, ripping apart his ribs and lungs, perforating his heart, filling his esophagus with bone splinters. The Japanese soldier opened his mouth to scream in pain, but was dead before the sound could come out of his mouth.
The Japanese soldier dropped at Butsko's feet, and Butsko stepped over him, firing at swarms of other Japanese soldiers charging toward him. Butsko saw Japanese soldiers charge past him, and out of the corners of his eyes he could see the other GIs fighting them hand to hand with bayonets. The battle was hot and heavy now. It was kill or be killed, shoot or be shot, stab your opponent before he stabbed you.
"Banzai!” screamed a voice above and behind Butsko.
Butsko spun around and saw a Japanese soldier standing on top of the eight-foot boulder behind the hole. The Japanese soldier carried an Arisaka rifle with a bayonet attached to the end, and his beady eyes fell on Butsko looking up at him.
"Banzai!” said the Japanese soldier, jumping off the boulder, dropping toward Butsko.
The Japanese soldier sailed through the air, his rifle and bayonet angled down toward Butsko, who raised his submachine gun and pulled the trigger.
Click!
He was out of ammo, and the Japanese soldier plummeted toward him. Butsko didn't have time to reload his submachine gun. All he could do was wait until the Japanese soldier fell within striking range and then parry the Jap's rifle and bayonet out of the way. Butsko planted his feet firmly on the jungle floor and pushed his submachine gun forward and to the side. The submachine gun smashed into the Arisaka rifle, deflecting its aim and knocking the Japanese soldier onto his ass.
The Japanese soldier landed with a thud and was temporarily stunned. Butsko leaped forward and kicked him in the balls. The Japanese soldier shrieked and nearly fainted from the sudden horrible pain. Butsko took another step and brought his size twelve combat boot down hard on the Japanese soldier's face, mashing his nose as flat as a pancake, and the Japanese soldier howled even louder. He struggled to get up, although he was blinded by pain and blood, and Butsko dropped to his knees on the Japanese soldier's chest, raised his submachine gun in the air, and rammed the butt of the submachine gun down onto the Japanese soldier's forehead, cracking it open like a walnut shell. Blood and brains splattered in all directions and Butsko arose, pulling the empty clip out of his submachine gun, then reaching into his pouch for a fresh clip.
He noticed something dark and ominous streaking toward his head, and ducked. The butt of a Japanese rifle swooshed over his head, and Butsko dropped his submachine gun, diving toward the Japanese soldier's legs, tackling him, and bringing him down.
Butsko and the Japanese soldier rolled over and around on the muck that was the jungle floor, trying to gain leverage on the other, trying to land the first deadly blow. Butsko noticed the three stars on the Japanese soldier's collar and knew he was a sergeant like himself. Then he saw the Japanese soldier's face, which was grizzled, lined, and scarred, like Butsko's.
Butsko knew he wasn't fighting a skinny kid, but an old combat veteran. The Japanese soldier, who happened to be Sergeant Atsugi, dug his elbow into the ground to stop the rolling. Sergeant Atsugi was on top of Butsko and raised his right fist to punch Butsko in the mouth. Butsko saw the punch coming and raised his arm to block it. Sergeant Atsugi swung, and Butsko stopped the punch in midair. Sergeant Atsugi punched with his left arm, and Butsko blocked that one too. Frustrated and furious, Sergeant Atsugi reached down with both thumbs to gouge out Butsko's eyes, and Butsko grabbed Sergeant Atsugi's wrists. Sergeant Atsugi pushed down and Butkso pushed up. They grappled with each other, trying to get leverage. Butsko had more strength, but Sergeant Atsugi had the better position. He leaned his weight on Butsko's arms and aimed his thumbs toward Butsko's eyes.
Butsko gritted his teeth and huge globules of sweat formed on his face as he held back Sergeant Atsugi. Butsko bucked to the left in an effort to throw Sergeant Atsugi off him, but Sergeant Atsugi rode him like a cowboy on a bronco and stayed erect. Again Butsko bucked to the left, and still Sergeant Atsugi maintained his position. It was easier for Sergeant Atsugi to lean on Butsko than for Butsko to push against Sergeant Atsugi, and Butsko realized he would be the one to weaken first. Time was on the side of Sergeant Atsugi. Butsko had to think of something fast.
In a flash it came to him. He diminished his pressure against Sergeant Atsugi, permitting Sergeant Atsugi's thumbs to inch toward his eyes. Then, in a sudden movement, Butsko released his pressure completely and aimed both of Sergeant Atsugi's thumbs toward his mouth.
Sergeant Atsugi looked down, horrified, as his thumbs dropped into Butsko's mouth to the knuckles, and Butsko clamped his jaw shut, his teeth biting through Sergeant Atsugi's skin, flesh, and muscle, grinding against Sergeant Atsugi's thumb bones.
Sergeant Atsugi screamed in pain and tried to pull his thumbs out of Butsko's mouth, but Butsko bit harder. Butsko wanted to bite Sergeant Atsugi's thumbs off completely, and blood flowed out of Sergeant Atsugi's thumbs and into Butsko's mouth. The more Butsko bit, the more Sergeant Atsugi bled. Butsko's mouth filled with blood, which tickled the back of his throat, making him cough; his mouth opened involuntarily, releasing Sergeant Atsugi's thumbs.
Sergeant Atsugi had been leaning backward, trying to pull his thumbs out of Butsko's mouth, and now that his thumbs were suddenly free, he lost his balance. Butsko heaved with his stomach, and Sergeant Atsugi fell off him.
Both men scrambled quickly to their feet and faced each other. Butsko pulled out his Ka-bar knife and held it in his fist, blade up. Sergeant Atsugi felt naked, because his only knife was his bayonet, and it was on the end of his Arisaka rifle, which was lying somewhere in the muck. He didn't dare bend over and look for it, because he knew Butsko would stab him. The two men circled each other, Butsko waving the blade of his knife from side to side, and Sergeant Atsugi crouching and holding out his hands, hoping to catch Butsko's wrist before the knife could do any damage.
Hand-to-hand fighting raged all around them as the two old sergeants performed their gruesome dance of death. Butsko wondered whether he should make the first move, or try to draw Sergeant Atsugi into making the first move, possibly leaving himself open for the fatal stab.
Sergeant Atsugi wished he had something to fight with, but he had only his bare hands. Yet, he'd killed many men with his bare hands before. He was a tough old soldier and he'd been through many battles. He watched Butsko's hands, hoping he'd make the first move. Sergeant Atsugi definitely didn't want to make the first move and leave himself open for that stab. Butsko had the knife. Let him go first.
Butsko changed direction, and the two men circled each other in the opposite direction. Each man's concentration was focused totally on the other. It was as if no one else in the world existed. Each wanted to live, and knew that in order to do that, he had to kill the man in front of him.
The air between them crackled with electricity. Butsko shifted direction again, and they circled the other way. Suddenly, Butsko shouted and lunged, the knife in his right hand aimed toward Sergeant Atsugi's gut. But Sergeant Atsugi had been waiting for just this move, and pounced with both hands on Butsko's thick, hairy wrist.
At the last moment Butsko tossed the Ka-bar knife from his right hand to his left, and Sergeant Atsugi's fingers wrapped around a wrist whose hand was empty. He stared at the empty hand, knowing full well what was going to happen, and a split second later it did happen: He felt a sharp, terrible, ripping pain in his stomach as Butsko's knife went in to the hilt. The pain was so overwhelming that Sergeant Atsugi went into shock, and he loosened his grip on Butsko's right hand, so Butsko punched him in the mouth.
The force of the blow sent Sergeant Atsugi stumbling backward, disengaging him from Butsko's knife. Sergeant Atsugi collapsed onto his back, and Butsko was so kill crazy he wanted to leap on him and stab him twenty times, but his immediate vicinity was filled with Japanese soldiers, and he had no time for personal pleasure. Butsko reached down to scoop up the nearest Japanese rifle, and baammmm!
A Japanese soldier hit him from behind with the butt of his Arisaka rifle. Butsko was strong and tough, and he could take a good punch, but he wasn't that strong and tough. Everything went black before his eyes, and he pitched forward onto his face.
The Japanese soldier who'd walloped him so sneakily positioned himself above Butsko's motionless body and raised his rifle and bayonet to harpoon him in the back. The Japanese soldier smiled victoriously, and then suddenly his smile sagged as a bayonet pierced his back and stuck out the front of his chest. The Japanese soldier went limp, hanging on the end of the bayonet. Longtree, who had been holding the Arisaka rifle and bayonet, angled it downward so that the Japanese soldier could slide off it, but the bayonet was stuck in the Japanese soldier's ribs.
Longtree let the Japanese soldier fall onto his stomach, then placed his foot on the Japanese soldier's back and tugged. The bayonet still wouldn't come out, so Longtree placed his foot more firmly on the Japanese soldier's back and pulled harder.
"Banzai!”
Longtree looked up to see a Japanese soldier rushing toward him, the Japanese soldier's rifle and bayonet pointed toward his heart. All Longtree could do was lunge forward and grab for the Japanese soldier's rifle. The Japanese soldier saw what Longtree was trying to do, but he was already in motion and it was too late to change direction. Longtree's long, bony fingers clamped around the rifle, and the Apache's momentum caused him to crash into the Japanese soldier. Their faces came within inches of each other's and Longtree couldn't help noticing how closely the Japanese soldier resembled an Indian; but he didn't have time to think about that, because the Japanese soldier lost his balance, and both men toppled to the ground.
Longtree landed on top of the Japanese soldier and kneed him in the balls, but the Japanese soldier squirmed out of the way and Longtree's knee struck the Japanese soldier's outer thigh. Each man struggled to pull the Arisaka rifle away from the other, and in addition to that, the Japanese soldier tried to get out from underneath Longtree. But Longtree was too strong for him in that department, although not strong enough to wrest the rifle away from him.
Longtree yanked the rifle, but the Japanese soldier held on tenaciously. Longtree twisted the rifle in all directions, but the Japanese soldier still wouldn't let go. Longtree couldn't waste time fighting for the rifle, because another Japanese soldier might come up behind him and stab him in the back.
Longtree had to gamble. He let the rifle go and quickly jabbed his thumbs toward the Japanese soldier's eyes. Before the Japanese soldier could react, he was blinded. Longtree's thumbs sank into the Japanese soldier's eye sockets, and blood spurted out in big gobs. The Japanese soldier screamed in horrible pain and let go of his rifle.
Longtree snatched it out of the air and jumped to his feet. He heard somebody running toward his back and spun around. It was another Japanese soldier, aiming his rifle and bayonet at Longtree's midsection. Longtree hadn't regained his balance yet, but you can't have everything when you want it. He thrust his rifle and bayonet forward at an angle and it bashed against the Japanese soldier's rifle, parrying it to the side.
The clash upset Longtree's tenuous balance, and the young Apache Indian fell to the ground, rolling even before he landed. The Japanese soldier's bayonet smacked into the ground where Longtree had been, the steel striking sparks from a stone.
Longtree rolled again and leaped to his feet, still holding the Arisaka rifle with both hands. The Japanese soldier charged him, his rifle and bayonet streaking toward Longtree's chest, and Longtree threw all of his 195 pounds into the parry, smashing the Japanese soldier's rifle and bayonet to the side; then, without breaking his motion, Longtree swung his rifle butt around and whacked the Japanese soldier in the face. Th
e force of the blow broke the Japanese soldier's eardrum and splintered his cheekbone. His eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped to his knees on the ground. Longtree kicked him in the face, and the Japanese soldier fell onto his back. Standing over him, Longtree angled his rifle and bayonet downward, and thrust it into the Japanese soldier's chest, then pulled it out and looked around.
He saw men struggling in the moonlight. They grunted, burped, and farted as they tried to kill each other. Someone cried out as a bayonet pierced his stomach. Another man groaned as he crumpled to the ground. Longtree saw two Japanese soldiers charging toward Butsko, who bared his teeth and aimed his submachine gun at them.
Click!
Butsko didn't have time to reload, and the Japanese soldiers were only ten feet away, screaming "Banzai!” their eyes glittered with excitement. With an angry snarl Butsko threw the empty submachine gun at them, and both dodged out of the way, giving him time to draw his captured samurai sword and hold it in his big, hairy fist.
"C'mon, you fucking slant-eyed yellow cocksuckers!”
They recovered their equilibrium and continued their charge. Butsko planted his big feet on the ground and waited for them. The Japanese soldier on the left lunged forward, and Butsko dodged to the right, swinging down with his samurai sword at the soldier on the right, who was looking at the place where Butsko had been, not where he was now; Butsko's samurai sword busted the Japanese soldier's collarbone and sank into his rib cage.
Butsko snorted like a wild bull as he pulled the samurai sword loose. He jumped over the dead Japanese soldier and attacked the one who'd lunged at him first. That soldier turned around to face Butsko and screamed "Banzai!” while Butsko was already in the middle of a sideways swing. The blade of his samurai sword struck the Japanese soldier on the kidney, slicing it in half, and then cracked into his spine. The Japanese soldier shrieked so horribly that Butsko's ears rang. The Japanese soldier didn't know whether to jump, run, or fall down, but as blood poured out of his side, one choice was forced upon him: He collapsed at Butsko's feet, and Butsko kicked him out of the way as if he were a dead dog.
