“Bucky, I’m just tired.”
Radcliff said, “I have to admit that Jap was one smart pilot.”
Peoples chimed in, “I’d still be cleaning my underpants if it’d been me.”
Ingram said, “Thanks for reminding me. Anybody have an extra pair? My stuff went out with the Japs’ luggage.”
“We’ll work on it,” said Radcliff.
“Right,” said Ingram. “Let’s go.” He pushed up from the table. “You ready, Mr. Blinde?”
“Of course.”
Ingram looked to Fujimoto. “Captain?”
Fujimoto stood and hoisted an overnight bag. “Hai!”
Radcliff asked Ingram, “Is he armed?”
Ingram nodded to Fujimoto, who said, “Of course not. Do you wish to search me?”
Radcliff looked him up and down. “Holy smokes. He speaks perfect English.”
“Courtesy of the University of Notre Dame,” said Ingram.
“Son of a gun. Is he Catholic?” asked Radcliff.
Fujimoto’s eyes glistened for a moment. “No, just Irish.”
Ingram and O’Toole snickered.
“Nobody likes a wise guy,” Radcliff muttered. “Nevertheless.” He eyed Ingram.
Ingram gave a slight shake of his head. No, he’s not armed.
They moved off, O’Toole and Fujimoto bringing up the rear. Ingram asked, “What’s the weather look like?”
“Bumpy,” said Radcliff.
Ingram groaned.
“We can handle it. Don’t worry. You’ll sleep like a baby. We’re out of the bad stuff.”
They walked under the C-54’s wing just as the ancient fuel truck rattled away. “They didn’t pump molasses in the fuel tanks, did they?” asked Ingram.
“Hammer checked it. It’s what it’s supposed to be. Even so, he and the jarheads watched them like hawks,” said Radcliff.
The Marine gunny spoke to Blinde for a moment, then Blinde dashed up the ladder and out of sight. The gunny walked up to Ingram. “Good morning, Commander. Mr. Blinde says you’re in charge; is that correct?”
Ingram blinked.
“Sir?” asked the gunnery sergeant.
“Well, Gunny, now that you remind me, I suppose so. My name’s Ingram, Todd Ingram. And you are . . .”
“Harper, sir, Ulysses Gaylord. And no comments about the middle name if you please, sir. But I tell you that because my initials are sort of my nickname.”
Ingram tried it out. “Ugh?”
“Actually, they call me Ugly, sir. My friends do, anyway.”
“Thanks, Gunny.”
“I always call the Navy my friends. At least I try to.”
“Likewise, Ugly. Now, are your men fed? Do you need some chow before we shove off?” He pointed to the lean-to.
“It’s okay, Commander. We have this thermos of coffee and some rats on the plane. So we’re good for now.”
“Rats? And did you say coffee?”
“The United States Marine Corps at your service, Commander, with a five-gallon thermos of America’s finest.”
Ingram smacked his lips. “That sounds better than sleep. Thanks, Ugly.”
“Glad to help the Navy, Commander.”
It was going to be one of those days. Ingram asked, “Okay, you ready to head north?”
“Say the word, sir.”
“Board your men, Gunny. We leave momentarily.”
“You want anyone to stay out here while you start up?” asked Harper.
They looked to Fujimoto.
“That won’t be necessary.” Fujimoto shouted an order and the few remaining Japanese cleared the area.
Harper said to Ingram, “They’re Japs, Commander. I don’t trust them. Lemme leave a couple of guys on the ground until we start rolling.”
O’Toole stepped close. “Sounds legitimate to me, Commander.”
“No,” Ingram said. “The guy has a million reasons to kill me, and so far he’s played it straight up. If we can’t trust him now we’ll never get this operation off the dime. Board your men, Gunny.”
“Aye, aye, Commander.” Gunnery Sergeant Harper turned, put two fingers to his lips, and whistled shrilly. “All aboard!” he shouted.
Instantly, his men picked up their gear, walked to the plane, and climbed the ladder.
At a nod from Radcliff, Hammer pulled the chocks and carried them on the C-54. Then Radcliff turned to Ingram, “All set?”
“You bet. How far is it?”
“About 950 miles.”
“We have enough gas?”
“Plenty for a round trip.”
Ingram asked, “You want me to dig up that Jap pilot to give you some pointers?”
“We can handle it, right, boys?” said Radcliff.
Peoples said, “I’m not so sure. Don’t forget the right inboard generator is crapped out.”
“Huh?” said Ingram.
Berne chimed in. “And I forgot to tell you, we lost hydraulic power about fifteen minutes out.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Ingram. He could almost smell the coffee from here. He turned and said, “After you, Captain.”
Fujimoto followed the last Marine up the ladder. Ingram went up next.
Radcliff kept it going. “That’s right. And I’d forgotten the Torvatron is on the fritz.”
“What’s a Torvatron?” asked O’Toole.
Radcliff wrapped an arm over his shoulder and pushed him to the ladder. “It’s this new hush-hush black box we use for controlling cosmic rays.”
“No kidding?” O’Toole started climbing. “Cosmic rays. Isn’t that what they have in x-ray machines?”
“Yeah. Make you glow in the dark.”
“Wow!”
“But cosmic rays make the magnetos crap out. Then there’s no spark and the engines stop.”
“Jeeez.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Should I? I mean what’s the Torvatron do?”
“Well, I can’t tell you much, but you see the frizazbitz interacts with the . . .”
Chapter Thirteen
22 August 1945
Toro Airfield, Karafuto Prefecture, Japan
For centuries Karafuto was under the control of warring Chinese or Mongolian tribes. Later, the Russians expanding into eastern Siberia and the Kamchatka Peninsula made their presence known. By the nineteenth century the island, called Sakhalin Oblast by the Russians and Karafuto Prefecture by the Japanese, was under divided control: czarist Russia ruled the northern mountainous portion, and Japanese settlers occupied the southern half, with pockets of Chinese settlers scattered throughout. Without official borders to separate the groups, firefights broke out from time to time.
Then the newly minted Imperial Japanese Navy defeated the czarist navy—and Russia—in 1904 in what became known as the Russo-Japanese War. The Treaty of Portsmouth, signed in the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in Kittery, Maine, ended the war in 1905 and granted to Japan everything south of Karafuto’s fiftieth parallel, along with the Kurile Islands, stringing all the way from Karafuto up to the Kamchatka Peninsula. With a formal border finally fixed, an uneasy peace fell into place.
Years later, the Soviets extended their “friendship” to the Japanese by agreeing to be neutral in the Pacific war. The nonaggression pact was an easy decision for both countries. The Soviets needed to throw all their resources against the invading Germans without worrying about Japan on their eastern flank, and the Japanese wanted to commit a majority of their forces and resources into their conquest of the western Pacific and Southeast Asia without worrying about an attack from the Russians.
The geopolitical profile changed with the fall of Nazi Germany in May 1945. At the July Potsdam Conference in Germany, President Harry S. Truman suggested privately to Generalissimo Joseph Stalin that now would be a good time for the Soviets to consolidate their position in the Far East. Stalin realized it was indeed a rare opportunity and swiftly capitalized on it. On 9 August 1945, the day of the Nagasaki bombing, Stalin sent Marshal A. M. Vasilievsky
across the Manchurian border with three armies totaling more than 1.6 million troops rushed from the European front. Over the previous four years these battle-tested troops had learned the hard lessons of “maneuver warfare” from the Germans.
Standing against them was Japan’s once-vaunted Kwangtung Army, reduced by the demands of the Pacific war to 600,000 men, most of them raw recruits or garrison troops. The army’s equipment was even more depleted. The Japanese had only 1,200 light tanks to put up against 5,600 of the Soviets’ powerful T-34s. Moreover, the Soviets had 5,300 aircraft on hand compared with the 1,200 available to the Japanese, of which only 50 were serviceable frontline fighters. The Imperial Japanese Navy had for all intents and purposes ceased to exist; thus no help was forthcoming from the sea.
The Soviet Manchurian campaign was brilliant and dazzling. In just twelve days the Soviets defeated the Japanese on the Asian mainland. Now they intended to finish the job by thrusting down Sakhalin and seizing the entire island.
Truman had done a shrewd thing urging Stalin to take on the Japanese in Manchuria, amazing for one who had been in office for such a short time. The Soviet attack made things far more convenient for the United States, which no longer had to worry about an attack from Japan’s Kwangtung Army on the Asian mainland, and thus had more military options to utilize in order to force Japan’s surrender.
But President Truman and his advisers had not anticipated Stalin’s outlaw intention to cross the La Pérouse Strait and seize Hokkaido, the northernmost of Japan’s home islands. Hokkaido was reported to be poorly defended. The pickings would be easy.
The C-54 flew almost due north at seven thousand feet. Their course took them over Honshu up to the Sea of Japan, and then farther north along the west coast of Hokkaido. They reached the La Pérouse Strait at about noon. The coastline of Karafuto, which they would soon parallel, slowly rolled into view.
The cockpit was crowded. Radcliff and Peoples were in their seats. They’d taken the plane out of autopilot with Peoples doing the flying and concentrating on the course. Hammer was at his flight engineer’s station, and Jon Berne was squeezed against his navigation table. Ingram was perched on the jump seat, and Colin Blinde stood over Berne, constantly watching the navigation plot. Their attitude matched the gray overcast. Conversation was sporadic, the cockpit devoid of the usual banter.
Radcliff turned to Berne. “How far, Jon?”
“About a hundred fifty miles, give or take,” said Berne.
“Give or take. That’s what I like. Accuracy. Good job, Jon,” said Radcliff.
Blinde stood over Berne. “Still have them?”
In addition to navigating, Berne operated the CW radio, keeping in touch with Okinawa via Morse code. “So far, so good. A medium signal but clear enough.”
“Excellent,” said Blinde. “Now here’s what—”
“Hey, Mr. Blinde,” said Peoples. “You have a frequency for the Toro tower?” He reached up and spun a dial. “We should be able to pick them up, but so far I ain’t got nothin’.”
“Oh?” said Blinde.
“Well, yes, Mr. Blinde,” said Peoples. “There are these things called barometer readings and altimeters and wind direction and landing instructions from airport towers. People don’t like others barging in without being invited. It’s best if you—”
“I understand, Mr. Peoples. Try 121.5 kilocycles.”
“Tried that, but there’s just a bunch of Japs talking.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blinde turned to Ingram. “We should get that interpreter up here.”
Ingram said, “We better have Fujimoto too.”
“Getting kind of crowded,” said Radcliff. “You sure we need both?”
Ingram said, “Fujimoto could give us a slant that O’Toole might not pick up. I say two mouths are better than one.”
Radcliff said, “Okay. Tell you what, Mr. Blinde. Will you please go and ask Lieutenant O’Toole and Captain Fujimoto to come in? You’ll have to take a seat back there in the meantime.”
Blinde said, “But I—”
“Mr. Blinde,” said Radcliff. “There simply isn’t enough room. We’ll let you know what happens. Now, would you please summon those two?”
Blinde looked at Ingram.
“Time’s wasting, Mr. Blinde,” said Ingram.
All eyes clicked to Blinde. “Fine. Sure, why not? I’ll get them for you.” He walked out.
O’Toole came in first, followed by Fujimoto, both gawking at the cockpit flight controls.
Radcliff said, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” He nodded to Ingram. “Commander Ingram will be your tour guide.”
Ingram said, “Okay, what we need are landing instructions from the Toro tower and assurances that it’s safe to land. We’re unsure of the military situation, and I want to be certain that it’s all okay before we set down.”
He looked at Fujimoto. “Captain, can you be our go-between with the tower? I figure they’ll trust you before they’ll trust Americans trying to impersonate Japanese.”
“What am I supposed to say to them?” asked Fujimoto.
Ingram said, “Just ask them what Leroy—Lieutenant Peoples—needs for landing instructions. That’s all. Except that I’ll need your sense of how safe it is around there too.”
Fujimoto rubbed his chin. “I suppose I can do that. The information you need isn’t that complicated?”
Peoples offered, “Actually, no. We could probably land this thing without all that, but it’s nice to know they have the front door open for us.”
“I see,” said Fujimoto. “All right, I’ll give it a try.”
“Good,” said Ingram. “And Lieutenant O’Toole will back you up as needed.” He looked to Berne and nodded.
Berne stood, handed his headphones to Fujimoto and stood back.
“How ’bout me?” asked O’Toole.
“We’ll fix you up.” Berne rummaged in a drawer, dug up a single earphone, and plugged it into a jack.
O’Toole and Fujimoto nodded to one another, with Fujimoto closing his eyes and concentrating on the traffic. Suddenly, he burst into a long string of Japanese. Ingram heard the phrase “C-54.” The name “Fujimoto” was repeated several times. Once, he seemed to be spelling something.
“Lots of talk,” said O’Toole. “I think we have the Toro tower, all right, but it doesn’t sound like they’re controlling aircraft; more like army stuff about tanks and fuel supplies. Right now, it’s a credibility thing. The captain here is demanding that his brother get on the line. Then we . . . wait one.”
Fujimoto was yelling. He turned and looked at the others, raising his arms in frustration, his eyes raised to the overhead. “Shit,” he yelled.
Chuckles ranged around the cockpit. Then Fujimoto bent to it again, yelling into the microphone.
Ingram asked, “Larry, should you do the talking?”
O’Toole shook his head rapidly and motioned Ingram to silence as Fujimoto burst into another long harangue in Japanese.
Radcliff yanked Ingram’s sleeve and said quietly, “Todd, I got this strange feeling. We were supposed to just get in there and get out, right?”
Ingram felt uneasy himself. “That’s what I was told. But Fujimoto’s brother is the garrison commander. It should be all right. Let’s decide when we get there.”
“You’re the boss.” Radcliff called over his shoulder, “Jon, how far?”
“Wish I could tell you, but Fu Manchu here is standing in front of my chart.”
Fujimoto turned and gave Berne a cold stare.
“Lieutenant Berne,” barked Ingram.
“Sorry,” said Berne.
Radcliff said, “Jon, off the top of your head, please.”
“Fifty miles, no more,” muttered Berne.
“That must be it, then,” said Peoples. “Smoke on the horizon.”
They all looked forward to see a column of smoke rising near the Karafuto coast. Then another.
Ingram asked, “Bucky, is it all right
if Mr. Blinde takes Sergeant Hammer’s chair for a few minutes?”
“Frigging musical chairs.” Radcliff looked at Hammer and said, “Send him up, okay, Chief?”
Blinde was no sooner settled in the chair than Fujimoto gave a long laugh.
“It sounds like we have him,” said O’Toole.
Radcliff called over his shoulder, “Mr. O’Toole, please tell the captain we need landing instructions.”
“Yes, sir.” O’Toole spoke to Fujimoto in Japanese.
Fujimoto covered his mike and said, “It’s Kotoku, my brother.” He looked at Ingram. “He really is alive.” He went back into a long discourse in Japanese.
They were almost on the smoke column. Berne elbowed Fujimoto aside and took his seat. After a moment he pronounced, “Toro should be just ahead. Ten miles, no more.”
“Sure enough,” said Radcliff in disgust. “And everything so clean and bright.” The area was obscured by smoke. Two or three dark columns rose near the beach, flames erupting from one of them.
They were over a rugged coast where many small boats churned up the water. “Lookie that,” said Peoples, pointing off to port. A number of ships were gathered in a large and ominous formation. There was a lot of activity inshore. “LSTs? Kinda like Okinawa,” said Peoples. “We got LSTs up here, Bucky?”
“Dunno.”
“We don’t, but the Reds do,” said Blinde.
Ingram scanned further out and saw several larger Soviet units—cruisers and destroyers.
Radcliff saw them too and nodded to Ingram. “There’s some pretty heavy tonnage out there. What do you think?”
“Shore bombardment.”
“Uh, uh. I don’t like this,” said Radcliff.
“You want to turn around?”
“It’s your show, boss man.”
“Well, then, let’s press on. It seems quiet for now,” said Ingram, not meaning a word of it.
Radcliff sighed. “Okay. I got it, Leroy.” Peoples raised his hands as Radcliff took the control column. “Let’s try five thousand feet and see if we can make sense of any of this.” He eased the throttles back a bit and pushed the yoke forward, putting the C-54 into a shallow descent.
“What’s going on, Captain?” Ingram asked.
Fujimoto shot an irritated glance, then went back to talking. It seemed more like babbling.
Edge of Valor Page 12
