Battlefield Pacific

by James Rosone

  Before anyone had a chance to process what had just happened, bullets whipped past them, some of them hitting the building materials. One of them ripped through Leeroy’s right hand, his shooting hand.

  “I’m hit!” he yelled as he quickly switched firing hands and took aim at the enemy soldiers that were charging forward.

  Punisher leveled his rifle at the first enemy soldier he saw and pulled the trigger, only to be met with a click.

  “Ugh, I didn’t change the magazine out!” he realized, still dazed from the fall. In seconds, he dropped the empty one and slapped another one in its place. He suddenly realized that his spotter had been shot in the hand and was bleeding profusely.

  Two other SEAL members who had been with the radiomen ran toward them and helped to tear into the charging enemy. In less than a minute, the four of them had mowed down close to thirty charging enemy soldiers. The group collectively changed magazines and scanned for new targets as they worked to establish some sort of perimeter around the shattered command center.

  As the SEALs reengaged another group of charging paratroopers, one of the wounded enemy soldiers threw a grenade in their direction. Punisher saw the object arc through the air right for them and yelled “Grenade!” as it bounced off an object that seemed to propel the grenade right toward them, instead of away.

  It landed right in the center of the group, and without thinking, Punisher instantly jumped on the grenade just as it went off. While he didn’t die outright, he couldn’t move his body and just lay there as his body began to bleed out. In that instant, he saved his fellow SEAL members, though they would eventually be overrun before the day’s fighting was done. Sadly, during the battle of Fort Mag, the entire SEAL platoon was eventually wiped out.

  *******

  Colonel Tilman had been thrown to the ground when the command center took a direct hit. He didn’t know what had hit them, only that the room above him was spinning. Tilman realized he needed to gain control of his mind and get back into the fight. He pressed his leg against something firm and did the same with his hand. In a fraction of a second, the spinning stopped and his mind stabilized itself. Rolling over to his side, he got up to his knees and saw the two SEALs who had been on the roof moments before, shooting it out with an unknown number of enemy soldiers that were clearly nearby.

  Tilman saw Lieutenant Commander Haversham and one of the other SEAL team members rush to the gaping hole in the side of the building and add in their own firepower. “Colonel Tilman, are you OK?” asked one of the Marines, who had been talking on the radio to the offshore command ship before the explosion.

  Getting back to his feet, Tilman nodded and reached for his M4 in case he needed to use it. Turning to look toward the SEALs who were still firing at the enemy, he saw an object fly into the room.

  Someone yelled, “Grenade!” Before anyone else could react, one of the SEALs dove on top of the grenade as it went off.

  “We need to fall back!” yelled one of the SEALs.

  Boom! Bam! More explosions rocked the area, causing the structure to shake violently. The supports of the building had been thoroughly compromised.

  Lieutenant Colonel Jackman turned toward the SEALs. “Fall back to the artillery batteries’ position!” he yelled. He reached down and helped a wounded Marine get to his feet.

  The Spec Ops guys nodded and said they would provide covering fire while they grabbed the wounded and fell back.

  Colonel Tilman grabbed one of the lance corporals, signaling that they should run to the wreckage of one of the Ospreys from the previous day and set up a firing position to help cover their retreat. In seconds, the two of them were running at full speed toward the wreck, with bullets kicking up dirt and rocks all around them.

  Bringing his rifle to his shoulder, Colonel Tilman sighted in on a cluster of enemy soldiers that were trying to come around the building. He fired a series of controlled three-round bursts into the soldiers, hitting several of them before they turned their fire in his direction. Bullets hit the destroyed wreck they were hiding behind, forcing Tilman and the lance corporal to seek cover. While they were keeping the enemy focused on them, one of the SEALs came around the corner and finished them off with a burst from his M240. He quickly waved for the Marines behind him to cross the taxiway and make their way back to the artillery batteries’ position.

  When the 105mm artillery guns arrived the previous day, they had the helicopters place the guns on the northeast side of the airstrip, near the firing range. It was a relatively large open field, which gave them more than enough room to set the Howitzers up on. They had also placed one of the two mortar platoons inside their perimeter. As the front half of the perimeter of the base began to fall apart, it made sense for them to try and fall back to the artillery position while they continued to call for help and reinforcements.

  Had the Marines not gotten the Howitzers set up in the early hours of the morning, they wouldn’t have been in a position to take out the enemy rocket artillery. As they ran toward them, Tilman thought, “God only knows how long we would have held up if the enemy had been able to pound us relentlessly with rockets.” As it was, they had already caused a considerable amount of damage.

  It took Colonel Tilman and the rest of what remained of his headquarters staff fifteen minutes to fight their way back to the artillery positions. When they crossed over into their lines, they were quickly met by a number of corpsmen, who helped get the wounded moved back to the ad hoc aid station they had set up. Looking back across the airstrip, Tilman saw small pockets of Marines fighting various clusters of enemy soldiers. Overhead, he heard jets high above them, engaging some unseen adversary.

  “Man, we could really use some air support,” he thought.

  The artillery commander walked up to him with his radioman. “Colonel Tilman, thank God you’re still alive. When your headquarters was taken out, we thought you’d been killed. I’ve got the division commander on the radio. He wants a status report. I was about to tell him you were killed, and the base was being overrun,” the captain explained, obviously glad that he wouldn’t have to be the one to relay that kind of information to the general.

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Tilman. “Let me see if I can try and get us some help before we all get wiped out.”

  Grabbing the mic from the radioman, he lifted the receiver to his mouth. “General, this is Colonel Tilman. Are you there?” he asked, too tired and rattled to remember what call sign he was supposed to be using that day.

  The general responded, “You sound like hell, Micah. How bad is it?”

  “My headquarters was blown up with me in it. Most of my staff was killed, and a lot of our radios were destroyed. I’ve got tanks inside the wire, along with God only knows how many other armored vehicles. These flipping paratroopers are all over this base right now. The north side of the base perimeter has held for the moment, but they’re taking a beating. The east and south sides have held, despite the Chinese throwing what was probably an entire battalion at them. However, the entire west side of my lines has collapsed. For the moment, I’m hunkered down with the Howitzer battalion. I need some freaking help here, or we’re going to get wiped out,” he replied.

  “Colonel, I’ve lost nine surveillance drones over your position in the last four hours. We just got a new drone over your position, providing us with some real-time video of what’s going on. You’ve got small pockets of soldiers holding various positions all over the base. I’m doing everything I can to get your reinforcements right now,” the general explained.

  The division commander let out a deep breath before he continued. “I told the strike group commander that we have to get you guys some air support, even if he has to lose a few planes in the process. He’s sending six Hornets your way. Once they’re on station, we’ll let you know so you can coordinate their attack. As to reinforcements, I’m sending a company of Marines to you right now. They’re roughly ten minutes out. See if they can retake the airstrip again.
I’ll see if we can get the better part of a battalion sent to you throughout the day,” his boss replied.

  Colonel Tilman was frustrated at the painfully slow pace of getting the Marines ashore. The enemy’s air-defense systems had thus far proven to be a lot heavier and more sophisticated than they had been led to believe. His own aviation wing had lost nine Ospreys in the first four hours of the invasion, and another dozen CH-53 Super Stallions—not a good way to start an invasion.

  He sighed before responding, “That’s a good copy, General. We’ll do our best to retake the airfield once those fast movers help us out. I’m not sure how fast you can get my reserve battalion ashore, but I sure would appreciate their help here at Fort Mag.”

  *******

  Sumay, Guam

  After General Cutter took a quick shower and had a bowl of oatmeal and some orange juice, it was time to check in on the status of the various battles unfolding in the Philippines. Walking into his command center, he saw a number of officers animatedly talk amongst themselves over a map that was spread out on a table. Sensing something was up, he moved to investigate.

  “What’s going on?” Cutter inquired. The group of majors and captains suddenly grew quiet.

  Seeing a possible moment to shine in front of the general, one of the young captains spoke up. “We’re reviewing the latest positions of the Indonesian 1st Infantry Division. The bulk of their force has fallen back to the Mount Banahaw area. They’ve essentially left the entire lower portion of Luzon open for the taking. We were discussing what our forces should do next in response,” he explained.

  A major, who had only recently joined his staff, chimed in to add, “We’ve managed to offload an entire brigade down near Legazpi, and they’ve moved inland. For some reason, the Indonesian general has left behind small units to harass us, but nothing serious. They clearly had a numbers advantage on us and time to prepare a layered defense; it just doesn’t make a lot of sense that they would give that up without a fight,” he concluded. A few of the other officers nodded in agreement.

  General Cutter smiled. “It could be that this Indonesian general heard he’d be facing the United States Marines and decided it wasn’t worth dying for, so he withdrew his army to a more defensible position,” he said to the laughs of the men around him.

  “No, on a serious note, they’ve probably fallen back because they fear us landing a blocking force behind them, trapping them down on a narrow part of the island. Nearly the entire island is in range of the Navy's 5-inch guns, which means they can provide a modicum of indirect fire support. Let’s let him retreat for right now. We need to focus on offloading as much of our armor, artillery, and troops as possible for the time being. I want the entire 7th Marine Division offloaded before the end of the week.”

  Turning to a colonel who’d walked over to him, Cutter asked, “What’s the status of the 6th Marine Division in the north? Last I heard, the battle of Fort Mag was still raging on into its second straight day. Have we finally secured that base and beaten back those Chinese paratroopers yet?”

  Colonel Rob Porter nodded. “Colonel Tilman’s brigade radioed in an hour ago that they had officially re-secured the airfield with the help of the new reinforcements. They’re in the process of pushing the perimeter further out and going after the retreating paratroopers. I have his brigades’ latest casualty report, along with the carrier strike groups’. You should know the admiral was furious at the aircraft losses his forces suffered in retaking that airfield.”

  General Cutter just nodded as he took a long drink of water from the bottle he had just opened. Looking over the casualty list, he just shook his head. “So many Marines…” he thought in despair.

  “Did it really take one of his battalions two days to advance ten kilometers inland from the beach?” he inquired, not sure if what was just handed to him was correct.

  “Yes, Sir,” answered Colonel Porter. “That battalion also sustained 218 casualties securing the beachhead for the Navy. Apparently, those Chinese paratroopers were responsible for defending the roads and hills around the beach and had somehow maneuvered a number of 152mm Howitzers into the hills—the intelligence guys must have missed it. Those guns tore up our armor before they were destroyed by the carrier airwing.”

  “I take it the enemies’ surface-to-air missile systems are to blame for the large number of losses we’ve sustained up to this point?” Cutter inquired. He wanted to know if it was the lack of air support that delayed them, or if it was poor leadership.

  Porter pulled a different map from a stack on his desk and brought it over to the table the two of them were now standing next to. Placing the map on the table and putting a couple of objects down to hold the edges, he explained the problem. “The issue is much larger than one factor, Sir. The battalion commander was aggressive, just as we’ve instructed them to be, but we had poor intelligence of the area. The SEAL and recon teams were directed to find and eliminate the air-defense systems on the island, so the Navy and Air Force could provide us with air support. That led to us not having enough information to know what we were potentially walking into.” As he spoke, he pointed to where the enemy air-defense systems had been located.

  “The Air Force and Navy hit the SAM fields around these areas here,” Colonel Porter continued as he pointed to two locations around Manila: one at Subic Bay and one near Clark International Airport. “When the Navy went in to support our guys at Fort Mag, the enemy turned on a new SAM nest we hadn’t seen yet, and subsequently shot down a number of their aircraft. Destroying that nest took the Air Force another twelve hours, as the aircraft had to fly in from Guam with more standoff cruise missiles. It was during this delay that the Chinese launched that massive counterattack that nearly wiped our guys out at the base. By all accounts, Sir, it was one of the bloodiest battles of the war with China. Colonel Tilman was on the ground during the entire thing. He relayed a very hair-raising experience when I spoke with him.”

  “I’m glad you were able to talk with Tilman,” said Cutter. “What’s the status of the rest of the division? Are they ashore yet?”

  “The 3rd Marine Amphibious Brigade just offloaded. They’re now making their way to Fort Mag and will drive down to Manila. The 2nd Marine Amphibious Brigade will be ashore by evening. They’ll head toward Clark International Airport and then push on to Subic Bay. If I may, because of how badly mauled the 1st Marine Amphibious Brigade was during the last two days, I’d like to recommend that we leave them to garrison the surrounding area of Fort Mag and the beachheads. Most of the brigade is down to 50% manning. Until they’re reinforced with additional replacements from the States, I’m not sure they would make an effective offensive force,” Porter explained.

  Cutter nodded at the suggestion. “OK. Send a message to Tilman and let him know his brigade is now responsible for the security of the area. Tell him he needs to focus on making sure the airstrip stays operational and securing the beachhead. When I talk with the Pentagon later today, I’ll let them know I need the next batch of reinforcements to be flown directly to Guam. From there, we can throw them on C130s and have them flown to Fort Mag. I want Tilman’s brigade back to full strength ASAP. He’s my best forward commander, and I’m going to need him for the next invasion,” the general said. Then he turned back to the larger map that showed the entire Chinese occupied territories—his eyes were fixed on Taiwan, the real prize to his plan.

  Formosa Fortress

  Yilan County, Taiwan

  A soft mist of rain was drifting across the mountains that overlooked the lowlands of Luodong Township and the eastern shores of Formosa. Seagulls squawked off in the distance, and waves crashed against the shore in the early morning twilight.

  Standing on top of a ridge overlooking the beaches several miles away, General Yang Yin took in a deep breath of the fresh saltwater air, slowly letting it out through his nostrils. “This is a good position,” he thought.

  Turning to survey the rest of the ridgeline, he saw that
even at the twilight hours, men and machines were hard at work preparing to meet the eventual American invasion force. He grunted in satisfaction at what he was seeing—these positions would be terribly hard for the enemy to capture.

  Looking at the brigadier general in charge of the islands fortification systems, he realized how lucky he was to have such a competent man in charge of the island’s engineers. Brigadier General Lee Jinping had developed an intricate layered defensive position across the most likely beach zones and ports the Americans would need to secure to liberate the island.

  During dinner the previous night, Lee had told him that his inspiration for the defenses he’d built was rooted in the example of what the Japanese had done on Iwo Jima and Okinawa. In both cases, the Japanese had known they couldn’t hold the islands forever but had been determined to bleed the Americans dry during the assault. Using that as his reference, General Lee had had dozens upon dozens of boring and tunneling machines brought in from the mainland within the first week of the invasion, before the PLA had even finished capturing the island. He had devised a series of interlocking fortresses that would be built at different positions around the beaches and lowlands, where the Americans would most likely land. He also built several of these forts near the major ports that would be used to offload the American heavy tanks and other equipment once they’d been captured and established a beachhead.

  The fortresses were positioned so they could provide interlocking fields of fire with their short-, medium- and long-range artillery guns. They had also built hundreds of hidden machine-gun bunkers that would be revealed when the enemy got close enough to them. All of these positions had been built with the knowledge that they would be attacked mercilessly from the air by the American Air Force. They knew they would be hit with precision-guided missiles and bombs, so the fortresses were well designed, with cutback and blowout tunnels to allow overpressures and flames to escape without blowing into the larger tunnel system.