by Len Levinson
“I'd better report this to battalion,” Lieutenant Wright said. “The rest of you, move out. I'll catch up later.”
Third Battalion headquarters relayed the message to Colonel Stockton, who was moving up to the line with his headquarters, the First Battalion, the Sixty-eighth Field Artillery Battalion, and the Fifteenth Combat Engineer Battalion.
Colonel Stockton was on foot, surrounded by aides, runners, signalmen, and his staff. The road had petered out a short way back, and now the regiment was advancing toward the sound of fighting on fairly decent jungle trails cut a month earlier for another offensive. If Colonel Shibata had stayed on the line he'd been ordered to hold, the Americans would not have been able to get to him so easily.
Colonel Stockton stopped beneath a taro tree, and aides held up ponchos to keep him dry as he examined his maps. By then he had a fairly clear picture of how many Japs were in front of him and what they were up to. He decided he'd better call General Patch and ask for help, just in case.
His radio transmission got through, but General Patch wasn't in his office. Instead Colonel Stockton spoke with Brigadier General Edmund B. Sebree, General Patch's chief of staff, who had been nicknamed “John the Baptist” because of his ascetic appearance and habits.
“General,” said Colonel Stockton into his headset, “it looks like the Japs are trying to do something significant out here, and I think I'd better have some help, because there are more of them than us. My Second Battalion has already taken a licking, and I'm not sure I can hold the Japs back with the remainder of my regiment.”
“I'll have to take it up with General Patch when he gets back,” General Sebree said. “His main concern right now is the security of Henderson Field.”
“If the Japs break through the regiment, there won't be anything between them and Henderson Field. I think it'd be best if we stopped them out here instead of back there, and there isn't much time.”
“Do you think you can hold them with another regiment?”
“Another regiment ought to do it.”
“Okay,” said General Sebree, “I'll release the Eighteenth as soon as I get off the radio. Anything else?”
“Thanks, General.”
“Over and out.”
Nutsy Gafooley and the survivors of Easy Company were running through the jungle, with the Japs close on their heels. Fortunately the jungle was thick and the Japs had poor visibility. Bullets whistled around Nutsy and banged into trees, but he kept on running, dodging trees, leaping over logs.
A distance was widening between the Easy Company GIs and the Japs, because the Japs had to be somewhat cautious; they didn't know what was in front of them. The GIs, on the other hand, knew that the rest of the battalion was behind them and that they'd have to bump into it sooner or later—and sooner if they moved quickly. Moreover, the men from Easy Company had spread out, so the Japs didn't know exactly where to place their main effort.
“Halt—who goes there?” shouted a voice in front of Nutsy Gafooley.
Nutsy stopped and ducked down. “Private Marion Gafooley from the recon platoon, and the Japs are right behind me, so here I come!”
Nutsy jumped up and ran into the front elements of H Company, who held him in their sights all the way to make sure he wasn't a sneaky Jap who spoke English. Behind Nutsy and on both sides of him came the other men from E Company who were still on their feet.
“The Japs are right behind us!” Nutsy said. “Give ‘em hell!”
The men from H Company dropped to the ground and got their rifles, BARs, and machine guns ready. The mortars were set up at the rear. Word was passed to Colonel Smith, who was traveling at the rear of H Company, that Japs were on the way, and he pulled his Colt .45, checked the clip, and spat on the ground.
“Let ‘em come,” he said.
The Japs screamed and hollered as they sped through the jungle, shaking their rifles and bayonets, flushed with victory. Their officers waved their samurai swords in the air and urged them on. The Japs poured around the trees and bushes—and in their eagerness couldn't see that the GIs from H Company and Colonel Smith's headquarters were right in front of them, on their bellies, their weapons ready to fire.
The GIs pulled their triggers and a tremendous roar filled the jungle. The air filled with hot lead, and the first wave of Japs collapsed under its fury. The second wave was ripped to shreds and the third wave kept charging, followed by hordes of other Japanese soldiers. The GIs kept firing and the Japs kept coming, screaming at the tops of their lungs, jumping over their fallen comrades, pushing forward in one of the wild banzai charges that was the mainstay of Japanese army tactics.
Nutsy Gafooley saw them charging forward and kept the trigger of his BAR pulled back, shifting his weight from side to side, cutting them down. But there were too many of them and he couldn't stop them all. The Japs kept bursting out of the jungle and finally were so close the GIs had to stand up and fight them hand-to-hand.
Nutsy jumped to his feet, adjusted the BAR strap over his shoulder so that it wouldn't be so heavy, and cradled it in his arms. A bunch of Japs were bearing down on him and he pulled the trigger, swinging the BAR from side to side. His bullets tore into the Japs’ bodies and they lost their footing, tumbling to the ground. Three more Japs appeared and Nutsy shot them to pieces. Then the battle became too close, as Japs and Gls grappled with each other face-to-face and hand-to-hand.
Nutsy felt weird with the BAR. He should have had a rifle and bayonet, but instead he had the heavy BAR, with its massive firepower, and he had to be careful that he didn't kill any Gls. A Jap with a rifle and bayonet charged him, and Nutsy waited until he was three feet away before pulling the trigger. The BAR barked viciously and the Jap's chest was crumpled by three bullets landing almost simultaneously. Nutsy swung around and saw another Jap bending over a GI lying on the ground, about to run him through, and Nutsy ran toward the Jap, pulling the trigger of his BAR. His bullets hit the Jap in the arm and ribs, knocking him over.
“Banzai!”
Nutsy looked up and saw three Japs charging toward him. He pulled the trigger of the BAR and blew them totally away. Nutsy couldn't believe how easy it was. He felt invincible with the BAR. He saw a Jap break loose from the tangle of fighting men all around him, and the Jap fired his rifle from his waist. The bullet whizzed past Nutsy's ear, and Nutsy dropped to one knee, aiming up at the Jap, waiting for him to come closer so that he could shoot him dead.
The Jap advanced toward Nutsy, holding his rifle and bayonet low. Evidently he didn't want to take the chance of shooting any of his comrades—just like Nutsy, who sprang to his feet and charged, pulling the trigger on his BAR.
Clank!
The chamber was empty and Nutsy was almost right on top of the Jap. He didn't have time to reload, and the Jap shouted a battle cry as he lunged with his rifle and bayonet. Nutsy managed to parry the thrust with the heavy BAR, and he lashed out with his foot, hoping to kick the Jap in the balls. The Jap darted backward just in time and prepared to charge Nutsy again.
Nutsy grabbed the barrel of his BAR, hoping to swing it like a baseball bat, but the barrel was hot from all the firing he'd done and he burned both his hands. Screaming, he dropped the BAR, and at that moment the Jap thrust his rifle and bayonet toward Nutsy's heart.
Ka-pow!
The Jap faltered and fell over Nutsy, a bullet hole in his chest. Nutsy pushed the Jap off him and was astonished to see Lieutenant Colonel Joseph William Smith, his big belly hanging over his belt, his flask of jungle juice in his back pocket, a Colt .45 service pistol in his right hand and an entrenching tool in his left. Colonel Smith had shot the Jap and saved Nutsy's life.
Colonel Smith moved forward, breathing heavily, his nostrils flared. Two Japs ran toward him, their rifles and bayonets angled toward his potbelly, and Colonel Smith fired his Colt .45, picking off the one on his left. The Jap on the right pushed his rifle and bayonet forward, and Colonel Smith shot him in the face at point-blank range. The Jap's
head exploded and covered Colonel Smith with blood and brains.
Another Jap came at Colonel Smith from the side, and Colonel Smith clobbered him with the entrenching tool. The Japs in the vicinity could see the little silver leaf on Colonel Smith's collar and knew he was a high-ranking officer. They turned and converged on him, but he stood his ground, firing his pistol as fast as he could pull the trigger and swinging ferociously with the entrenching tool. A Japanese bayonet pierced his left arm in the center of his biceps, and the Jap shouted for joy, but Colonel Smith shot him in the throat and the Jap collapsed onto the ground.
Colonel Smith's biceps were sliced badly and he couldn't hold the entrenching tool anymore. Letting it fall to the ground, he shot a Jap in the chest and another one in the stomach.
Click!
His Colt .45 was out of ammo, and a big Jap with his rifle and bayonet aimed forward like a lance came at him.
Blam!
The Jap collapsed onto the ground, and Colonel Smith looked up to see a scrawny American soldier with an M 1 rifle and bayonet in his hands.
“Load up, sir!” said Nutsy Gafooley. “I'll keep the Japs away!”
Colonel Smith reached into his ammo pouch and pulled out a fresh clip of bullets. He ejected the empty clip just as three Japs emerged from the tussle all around him, charging like bulls. Nutsy hollered and jumped in front of them, swinging his rifle butt around, cracking one in the head, slashing another across the throat with his bayonet. The third ran toward Colonel Smith, who slapped the fresh clip into his Colt 45. Nutsy threw his rifle and bayonet like a spear and it thunked into the Jap's back. The Jap sagged to the ground in front of Colonel Smith.
Nutsy rushed back and yanked the rifle and bayonet out of the Jap's back. Colonel Smith stood, blood dripping down his left arm, and looked around. His men appeared to be holding the Japs.
“Stand fast!” he yelled. “Don't let any of the bastards through!”
He raised his pistol and shot a charging Jap between the eyes. The Jap crashed to the ground and Nutsy jumped over his body, impaling the next Jap on the end of his bayonet. A Jap bashed a GI in the head, fracturing his skull, and Colonel Smith shot the Jap in the side. Nutsy parried a thrust and kicked a Jap in the balls as the battle continued to rage all around him.
Colonel Shibata was pacing back and forth behind his map table. He knew his regiment had attacked the Americans and wondered how the battle was progressing.
Lieutenant Isangi held up the field radio. “Sir!” he said. “Captain Otsuki!”
Colonel Shibata reached for the radio eagerly because Captain Otsuki commanded the battalion on the Sixty-sixth's left flank, where the fighting had broken out.
“What is it?” Colonel Shibata said.
“The Americans have stopped my attack, but give me another company and I can break through!”
“You're sure of that?”
“Yes, sir! The fight can go either way right now, but with another company we'll win!”
“I'll send it to you as soon as I can!”
Colonel Shibata handed the radio to Lieutenant Isangi and looked down at the map to see what company he should send to Captain Otsuki. Should he take one from his reserve or switch a company already nearby on the line?
“Sir!” said Lieutenant Isangi, holding out the field radio again. “Colonel Seki!”
Colonel Seki commanded the battalion in the middle of the Sixty-sixth's line, and Lieutenant Isangi grabbed the radio. “Yes?”
“Sir, we've just been hit by a major American counterattack!”
Colonel Shibata was stunned. It was Colonel Smith and the First Battalion coming up on the line. “Can you hold?”
“I believe we can, sir!”
“Make sure that you do! Report to me any change in your situation!”
Colonel Shibata looked down at the map and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and tried to figure out what to do. He realized he couldn't switch any units from his line to his left flank, and he didn't dare release anything from his reserve. All he could do was hope that everybody could hold the initial American onslaught and then push the Americans back.
He puffed his cigarette nervously. He hadn't expected the Americans to fight with such determination.
New trouble was looming on the right flank of Major Shibata's line, because the Third Battalion of the Twenty-third Infantry Regiment, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Vincent McGough, had reached the Japanese outposts and gone through them like shit through a tin horn.
Ahead was the main body of Japanese soldiers, still digging in for the battle they expected, a battle that was descending on them with sudden fierceness. J Company was in front of the Third Battalion, and in their forward rank was the recon platoon, lusting for revenge.
Butsko jogged forward, holding his carbine with fixed bayonet in his hands, barely feeling the wound in his shoulder; he couldn't wait to kill a Jap. Next to him was Bannon, limping on his left leg, also raring to go. They were advancing behind a creeping mortar barrage that was making the Japs scurry for cover, and Lieutenant Jason Wright had posted his machine guns to support the advance.
The mortars blew apart the jungle in front of the charging GIs, who were shouting and screaming rebel yells, Bronx cheers, cattle calls, and anything else that came to mind. The machine guns ripped up the Japs in converging fields of fire. The Japs hadn't completed their fortifications and were out in the open. Bravely they tried to man their guns, but hell was breaking loose all around them.
Suddenly the mortar barrage stopped and the GIs came charging through the smoke, leaping over shell craters, aiming their bayonets at the Japs who were getting to their feet to meet the onslaught.
Butsko's carbine was set in its automatic mode, and he opened fire on the first Jap he saw, a sergeant—like himself— crawling out of a ditch. The burst of bullets hit the Jap on the chest, mangling his heart, lungs, and ribs, and flinging him onto his back. Butsko jumped on the Jap's face with both feet and fired a burst at a Japanese officer running toward him with his samurai sword high in the air. The officer's shirt became splattered with blood as he tumbled to the ground. Butsko stepped over him and saw a platoon of Japs running toward him and the GIs nearby. Butsko pulled the trigger of his carbine and the bullets spat out in a swirling spray, cutting into the Japs and knocking some of them down, but the rest kept coming, firing their weapons, and GIs went down dead and wounded.
The bullets flew wild and fast for a few moments, and then the Japs and Americans were face-to-face. Butsko was a powerful man and put all his weight behind a solid thrust with his rifle and bayonet. The Japanese soldier in front of him tried to parry Butsko's bayonet away, but he simply didn't have the strength. Butsko's bayonet buried itself to the hilt in the Jap's chest, and the Jap died instantly, hanging on the bayonet like a rag doll.
Butsko flung the Jap away, slammed another Jap in the mouth with the carbine butt, and slashed another Jap with his bayonet. Butsko charged forward, saw another Jap in front of him, and parried the Jap's lunge easily, whacking the Jap in the face with his carbine butt, hitting him again in the face and then kicking him in the balls. The Jap dropped to the ground and Butsko stomped his mouth twice, recalling the beating he'd taken when he'd been captured by the Japs and becoming even more furious.
He saw another Jap and feinted with his bayonet and carbine. The Jap raised his rifle to block the thrust that never came, and Butsko brought his carbine butt around, striking the Jap in the stomach. The Jap said “Oof!” and keeled over, and Butsko kicked him in the face, nearly knocking his head off his shoulders.
The Jap went flying backward and Butsko turned to see two Japs charging Bannon from both sides. Bannon faced one of the Japs, thrust first, and buried his bayonet in the Jap's stomach. Bannon didn't even see the other Jap, and Butsko stuck the Jap in the back. The Jap, taken by surprise, shrieked and threw his rifle into the air, and Butsko pulled his bayonet out, spun around, and cracked a Japanese corporal in the jaw wit
h his carbine butt.
Bannon limped as he charged forward, feeling a tremendous surge of energy at the vengeance he was wreaking on the Japs. A Jap jumped in front of Bannon and feinted with his rifle and bayonet, but Bannon didn't fall for it. The Jap feinted again, and Bannon saw an opening to kick him in the balls, but he couldn't do that with his wounded leg. The Jap decided to go all the way this time and shot his rifle and bayonet forward. Bannon parried it and brought his carbine butt up, breaking the Jap's jaw. The Jap went sprawling backward and Bannon followed him, poking his bayonet into the Jap's intestines. The Jap collapsed onto his back, and Bannon looked up to see another Jap in front of him.
Bannon let loose a Texas cattle call and leaped unsteadily at the Jap, thrusting forward with his carbine and bayonet. The Jap parried the blow and Bannon lost his balance, falling to the side, landing on the body of a dead American soldier. The Jap tried to harpoon Bannon, but Bannon spun away and the Jap's bayonet buried itself in the dead GI's ribs. The Jap tugged on his rifle but couldn't pull the bayonet loose.
Bannon jumped to his feet, picked a big rock up from the ground, and cracked the Jap on the head with it. Blood appeared instantly on the Jap's khaki cap, and the Jap's eyes rolled up into his head.
“Banzai!”
Another Jap ran at Bannon and Bannon threw the rock at him, hitting the Jap on the chest, making him falter. Bannon picked up the other Jap's rifle and bayonet, aimed at the faltering Jap, and pulled the trigger, but the bolt went click; the rifle was empty.
“Banzai!” cried the Jap, charging again.
Bannon was ready for him, feinted, and pushed his rifle and bayonet forward. The Jap saw it coming at the last moment and tried to get out of the way, and Bannon's bayonet stuck into the Jap's shoulder. The Jap was stunned by the sudden pain and Bannon pulled the bayonet out, took aim again, and this time plunged it in all the way into the Jap's stomach, then ripped up and pulled out. Disemboweled, blood foaming from his mouth, the Jap collapsed at Bannon's feet.
