Battlefield Pacific

by James Rosone

  The Wuhan would have had virtually no time to react to the sudden appearance of two American torpedoes, but it suddenly raced forward at maximum speed, attempting to escape through evasive maneuvers. With no time to obtain a proper firing solution on the Americans, and lacking the proper equipment to listen for Indiana above the noise they were generating, the Chinese never had a chance to return fire.

  In less than a couple of minutes, the two American torpedoes impacted the hull of the Wuhan, sinking the vaunted terror of the seas and ending any hope the PLA Navy had of using the Wuhan in the final battle of the Pacific.

  Passing the Torch

  California

  SOI West, Camp Pendleton

  Captain Tim Long stood at attention with his company of Marines as they graduated from their final course at the School of Infantry. With nearly 50,000 new trainees graduating a month, this ceremony was certainly not unique, but Long was feeling nostalgic.

  “I remember standing here five years ago myself before I became an officer,” he thought as he looked out on all the young Marines arrayed in their dress uniforms, their families looking on from the bleachers.

  Up at the podium, the colonel in charge of recruit training tapped the microphone to gain everyone’s full attention. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it and give you some pep talk to make you feel good,” he began. “You Marines are going to face adversity. There’s a hostile nation bent on fundamentally changing the world and our country. It’s incumbent upon you Marines to listen to your NCOs and officers and defeat this dastardly enemy. Remember, these are the same people that enabled the North Koreans to launch nuclear missiles at our cities. This is the same nation that had a hand in the destruction of Oakland and San Francisco just a few hundred miles north of here. Never forget what these enemies have done to our nation.”

  Surveying the newly-minted Marines, the colonel continued, “Like the Marines after the surprise attack at Pearl Harbor, and the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, we too shall overcome our grief and sorrow, rising up to answer the call of our nation and defend our country, family, and friends from this vicious enemy. I couldn’t be prouder to be a Marine than I am right now. To see your young faces and know that you will be the avenging angels protecting our nation and bringing the fight to the enemy gives me great joy. I’m proud to call you fellow jarheads and leathernecks. Dismissed!” said the colonel. With that, the official celebration and R&R began.

  Captain Long’s troops were being given a four-day pass to be with their loved ones and family before the entire division was shipped out to the Northern Mariana Islands and the eventual invasion of Taiwan or the Philippines. No one knew exactly which country they would be liberating first, but secretly Long believed his regiment was most likely slated for Taiwan.

  As Long made his way through the crowds of well-wishers and family members, one of the young Marines happened to grab his attention. “Dad, this is our company commander, Captain Long,” he said excitedly. “He’s already fought the Chinese and the North Koreans.” He was clearly proud of his commander.

  Long blushed a little as he tried to play it off. “I just happened to be in the Corps when the war started, that’s all. We had a duty to do, and we did it, just as these fine young men will do theirs,” he replied, trying to be as reassuring as possible to the parents.

  Just then, Captain Long noticed a Marine tattoo on the father’s forearm. “I served with the Marines in Afghanistan,” said the Marine’s dad in a gravelly voice. “My son may still be a bit naïve in his view of combat, but I know better. Judging by the two Purple Hearts on your chest, you do as well. Just do your best to keep these young boys alive and win this thing, OK?” the father said sternly. He shook Long’s hand, and the group turned to walk away and enjoy the next few days together as a family.

  Long watched with a certain sense of longing as the family walked away. He wasn’t married himself, not really having found the time to look for a girlfriend. He had put most of his time into learning what it took to be a good Marine and getting as much of his college done as he could while the military was still willing to pay for it. His ultimate goal was to get out and use the GI Bill to finish paying for the rest of his degree and do what everyone else does—find a job, get married, and start a family. Of course, those plans had been interrupted by the war, but his personal philosophy was that when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. Besides, being an officer for the next few years would certainly help him polish up his resume.

  With no family living nearby to spend time with, Long did what most Marines would do—he spent time at the beach or doing something fun outdoors and having a good time hitting a few bars and restaurants in the evening with a few of the other single officers he had become friends with. Many of these other newly-minted officers hadn’t seen combat yet, so they had latched onto Long to learn from him and gain as much insight as possible before they eventually shipped out. Captain Long, for his part, tried to spend as much time as possible with his young lieutenants. Most of them had the same amount of time in the Corps as the young Marines they would be leading into battle.

  A few days after the ceremony, Long and a couple of his young lieutenants went over to Miss B’s Coconut Club on Mission Boulevard in San Diego for some strong drinks, and possibly also to gawk at the pretty college girls at the beach nearby. Knowing this would be one of the last times he and his officers would be able to have some fun and relax, he wanted to take them somewhere fun and give them a chance to create a few pleasant memories to help them get through what would undoubtedly be a challenging time ahead.

  Snagging one of the outdoor tables, Long waved down the waitress and placed an order for a round of shots and some appetizers to get them going. They started out with a seafood ceviche, crispy calamari that the Yelp reviews said were to die for, and finally, some jerk-rubbed chicken wings, followed by their world-famous Chester Copperpot drink, which was essentially a large chest that took up a good portion of the table. The sharable drink was filled with enough alcohol to subdue a rifle team of Marines.

  As the officers chowed down on some good old-fashioned food and started to become undeniably drunk, Long sat back and surveyed the scene. He knew this would be a memory he’d hold on to for some time to come. Captain Tim Long was a country boy from Iowa, so being this close to the ocean was a real treat—and the good-looking women walking by didn’t hurt anything either. After all the horrors he had seen in Korea, he just wanted to focus on having a good time while he could.

  He did have to remind himself that he wasn’t an NCO anymore—he was a Marine officer and a company commander, so he had to remember to not get too carried away. A lot more was expected of him now, and he had to be the adult in the room, especially as the commander to these young lieutenants. They followed his lead; if he acted crazy, they would act crazy. It was incumbent upon him to be aware that he needed to be the kind of leader and example they needed and deserved.

  Long allowed himself to cut loose a little bit, anyway. He was starting to get just slightly tipsy and was enjoying a bit of flirtation with a couple of the young women at a table nearby when one of his young lieutenants put his hand on his shoulder and asked, “So, what was it like over there, Captain Long? What should we expect?”

  The question caught Long off guard. He was just inebriated enough to have lost his inhibitions though, so he responded honestly. “Chaos, death, and fear,” he began. “During the invasion of Hamhung, guys in my squad were getting hit left and right as we desperately tried to get off the beach. Once the amtracks got to the shore, they started taking heavy fire. When the back hatch dropped, we had to run out as fast as we could. As soon as we were out, the amtrack left to go pick up the next load of Marines. It was bad. Explosions were happening all around us, and bullets flew everywhere. Before we made it to the seawall, I had already lost three guys in my squad—mind you, at that time I was an E-5 sergeant in charge of a squad.”

  The happy chatter of the
other young lieutenants had died away. They were listening to him very intently. It was the first time he had actually shared his experiences in the war in anything more than broad strokes to them.

  “What happened next, Captain?” asked the young lieutenant tenuously. He didn’t seem completely sure that he wanted the answer.

  “When we made it to the seawall, I saw where most of the enemy fire was coming from. There was a two-story house made of cement, maybe three hundred meters in front of us. We eventually hit the house with a couple of AT-4 rockets and then charged the enemy position. Two more guys in my squad got hit, but we pressed on. It took us an hour to fight our way off the beach, and that was just the beginning. We spent four days fighting in and around that city, even after the North Koreans surrendered. Then it was a rush to secure as much of the country as we could before the Chinese came in.”

  One of the lieutenants let out a low whistle.

  “Maybe a week later, my platoon leader, a guy by the name of Second Lieutenant Chet Culley, was promoted to captain and took over command of our company—”

  The young lieutenant who had started the conversation interrupted. “—What happened to the other officers?” He was clearly curious how a guy the same rank as him had suddenly become the company commander.

  Long paused for a second. The young lieutenants weren’t even drinking at this point; they were simply hanging on to his every word. “The CO and the XO were both killed, and two of the other platoon leaders had been injured. At this point, Lieutenant Culley was the last officer alive in the company, so they promoted him up. I suppose that’s why I push you guys so hard to know each other’s jobs and be ready to step into new and unfamiliar roles. You never know when you may suddenly find yourself in charge. It was at that point that I was promoted from E-5 to E-7 and given command of the entire platoon until a new officer showed up. There just wasn’t anyone else to lead the platoon, so I had to step up.”

  “Wow,” said one of the young men. The mood was now very somber.

  After a long pause, another lieutenant asked, “What happened next, Captain?”

  “Well, we kept fighting the People’s Liberation Army, and let me tell you, they were fierce. They fought significantly better than I’d thought they would’ve, or anyone else had led me to believe they would. That’s why I yell at anyone who says the Chinese don’t know how to fight—they do, and they’re good at it. They fight like men possessed, and they won’t surrender. They fight to the death. Anyway, we were attacking a heavily fortified ridgeline, and as I was charging an enemy machine-gun position, my rifle ran out of ammo. I had no time to reload it. I charged forward and jumped right on top of the men, tackling them to the ground. It was hand-to-hand combat at that point. One of the guys shot me three times in the chest, but fortunately, I was wearing body armor.”

  Captain Long rubbed his chest as if talking about the memory had sparked some phantom pain there.

  “At first, I thought I was fine,” he explained, “but then I vomited up blood. My CO told me I had to be medevacked out. Apparently, the trauma of the gunshots from such close range had broken several of my ribs and punctured my right lung. I spent the next six weeks recovering at a hospital in Japan before I was sent back to my unit, which was now down in Busan, getting ready for our next assault in the Russian Far East.”

  “Is that where you were awarded the Navy Cross?” asked one of the lieutenants as he looked on with a new sense of awe.

  “Sadly, no. I was given a Silver Star and Purple Heart for that action. It was during the Chinese counterattack that I was awarded the Navy Cross and my second Purple Heart. That story, however, is for another day, because I think I’m in love with that beauty over there,” said Captain Long. He nodded toward a gorgeous woman in shorts and a bikini top who had long flowing brown hair and big beautiful brown eyes. Long got up to approach the young lady and her friends; she spotted him staggering a bit as he walked toward her but smiled warmly at him nonetheless.

  Forty-eight hours later, Long’s company boarded a 737 that would ferry them to Saipan International Airport, where the rest of the 6th Marine Division was forming up for the next operation.

  Coming Storm

  Guangzhou, China

  Southern Theater of Operations

  General Yang Yin sat in his office sipping on a cup of tea as he reviewed the latest casualty report from the Philippines. Following his success in the Vietnam campaign, General Yang had been given command of all PLA forces responsible for capturing the Philippines and Formosa. It was a daunting challenge, but one he thrived on.

  Still, things hadn’t exactly been going his way lately. What Yang hadn’t predicted was the level of casualties the northern army group was taking. The “trap” they had laid for the American and ROK forces by allowing them to cross the Yalu River had been nothing short of disastrous. While the counteroffensive appeared to have worked when they’d lured the Americans across the border, the Americans’ ability to make use of their heavy bombers and the quick reassignment of the US Marine Force from Busan had ultimately doomed the offensive. The northern army group had sustained nearly 112,000 casualties over four weeks and at the end of the day, had been pushed out of Korea for the second time in four months.

  As he read the papers in front of him, General Yang was happy to see that the 43rd Airborne had done a superb job in capturing key targets within the Philippines. However, the rest of Lieutenant General Sheng’s Army Group B, which consisted of the 20th Army and the 27th Army, hadn’t secured all their objectives yet. It was frustrating for Yang having to use General Sheng’s army group rather than his own. Yang’s Army Group A had been given the tasks of reuniting the renegade province of Formosa, which frankly had been consuming most of his time.

  Looking up from his papers, Yang eyed General Sheng’s deputy, a brigadier general. “Why hasn’t General Sheng captured the remaining objectives yet? We’re under a strict timeline to secure the Philippines and begin fortifying them against the Americans. They’re going to invade soon, and your boss is failing to get the country secured,” Yang grilled.

  Squirming in his seat a bit, the general did his best to respond. “As you can see, General, our forces are sustaining heavy casualties. The Filipinos are fighting more fiercely than we had anticipated. I know that the objectives we haven’t secured will be captured in the next couple of weeks. We ask for more time and reinforcements.”

  Yang took a deep breath to stop himself from having a loud outburst over Sheng’s inability to complete his objectives. If he had his way, he would have replaced him. Unfortunately, General Sheng was politically well-connected, so removing him without sufficient cause would be difficult. “General, do you know how many casualties we sustained unifying Formosa?” Yang asked through gritted teeth.

  The deputy’s face remained stoic and emotionless as he shook his head.

  “During the first day of the invasion, we suffered 31,000 casualties. On the second day, we sustained another 18,000 casualties. To date, a total of 72,000 soldiers have been taken out of commission during this effort. During that same time, General Sheng has also lost nine thousand.”

  General Sheng’s deputy now looked nervous as he realized their request for more reinforcements in light of the number of casualties being sustained on Formosa seemed trivial. Even during the Vietnam campaign, they hadn’t sustained that level of casualties.

  Knowing he needed to try and save face for his commander, the deputy inquired, “Sir, is it possible for us to get some added ground-attack planes and additional landing crafts? Part of the problem we’re having is getting our various units to the many islands. Presently, we’re bypassing the smaller islands until we’ve secured the larger, more populated ones. We’ve prioritized the capture of the islands where the engineers have said they need the anti-ship missile batteries to be placed.”

  General Yang grunted. “Tell General Sheng that I’ll order an additional squadron of ground-attack aircraft and additio
nal troop landing ships to your command. I won’t give you more troops. The reinforcements we have available are being sent to reinforce Formosa and our forces in the north battling the Americans. I’m also giving you a hard deadline to complete your objectives. You have four weeks to finish securing the Philippines. No more delays, or there will be problems,” Yang said with a bit of heat in his voice. He didn’t have time to deal with incompetence, and his reputation was also on the line. The Americans were coming, and he was still not ready for them.

  After dismissing Sheng’s deputy, he returned to the task at hand, getting Formosa ready to repel an American invasion. While his forces now controlled the eastern beachheads that would most likely be used, the challenge was building them up sufficiently to withstand the brutal assault the Americans would launch.

  He signaled for his own deputy, Brigadier General Yi, to come join him. As soon as Yi entered the room, General Yang bluntly asked, “What is the status of the Yilan County beachheads? Are they ready to repel an invasion yet?”

  Yilan County was a province with a large area of relatively flat lowlands and beaches on the eastern side of Taiwan. It was by far the most likely area the Americans would invade from. Aside from the low-lying area, which would make it easier to offload their heavy equipment and armored forces, it had a number of major road junctions the Americans would want to use as they looked to expand off the beaches.

  Pulling some data up from his tablet, General Yi answered, “Yilan County is prepared to meet the Americans at the beaches, Sir. The engineers have built hundreds of small machine-gun bunkers, covering nearly every approach off the beaches. They have also completed dozens of hidden anti-ship bunkers several miles inland. Per your instruction, we have placed most of our antiaircraft guns and missile systems intermixed with the civilian population. If the Americans decide to attack them, then they will hit a lot of civilian structures.”