When darkness fell, I knew this was the only opportunity I would have to get back to my battery without getting blown to smithereens. Trudging toward the rear at night wasn’t the best idea in the world, so I stayed with a unit of soldiers, hoping our boys wouldn’t think I was a Japanese infiltrating. By the time I got back, Sergeant McQuiston and most of the men were dug in for the night.
After I passed the sentinels, I walked into the encampment. Swinging Bill Arnold lay there snoring like a bull charging a matador. His sound sleep probably had more to do with Jack Daniel’s than anything else. Because we’d start early in the morning, no one was wasting any time getting enough shut-eye. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the wisdom in that decision. I bedded down quickly.
The next morning, the phone call from Command informed me that a withdrawal had been made to the town of Mashiki and Colonel Stare’s unit had escaped any serious problems from a counterattack. The Ninety-Sixth Division had clearly reached the first line of the Japanese defense. The holdup for forward advancement was the need to clear out Clay Ridge and Tombstone Ridge. Those obstacles had to be taken for our soldiers to keep moving forward.
Tombstone got the name from three prominent look-alike tombs on the western slope. The ridge ran about eight hundred yards north and south. Just reaching Clay Ridge would probably take several days. Before our infantry could get there, we had to take two small hills, Coral and Porter. I knew the 382nd Infantry would be faced with a tough job and I had to get our artillery unit ready.
With so many caves and tombs dotting the area, we had to carefully sort out where those shelters were located because the enemy would be shooting from those covers. We’d be ready to grind it out.
* * *
Two hours later the Command Center called again.
“Major Shaw?” the voice barked over the phone.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “The 361st Artillery stands ready to fire.”
“Good. You’ve already been around those damn caves the Japanese use for firing at us like we’re ducks in a shooting gallery. We need you to help inspect that scene for information on what we should do next. The boss wants you to get over there and take a good look. Get near Nishabaru Ridge. Keep your eyes open for all action related to the Cactus Hill area. We’ll communicate with your battery by phone when and where we need them to fire.”
“As you say, sir.” I hung up the phone.
“What’s happening?” McQuiston asked.
“They want me to take a hike up to the front. You keep the fires burning here. If you get a call for artillery support, you know what to do.”
McQuiston saluted and I took off.
Colonel Sterner had moved his command post and mortar section closer to the front, but they’d barely gotten set up when the Japanese started hitting them exactly where they were positioned. Because the Japanese had excellent field visibility from their hill locations, they could follow our every movement and so immediately knew where Sterner moved. Once the colonel settled in, all the Japanese had to do was start shooting.
With mortars flying, the colonel realized they’d have to retreat. By the time they’d rounded up their gear, fifty shells had landed in their vicinity. The infantry took off running back to their previous position at Ginowan. Two were killed.
When I passed one of the caves that had been evacuated, I saw a woman and her two children huddled under a bush. Fearing the Japanese might have wired them in some way to make them a booby trap, I could only watch from a distance. I could tell the baby was nursing at the mother’s breast, so I had to assume they were all alive. I watched for a moment. The women’s eyes were closed, and she didn’t move. The other child stayed huddled behind her and stared at me. I’d report the situation and move on.
Nothing I could do, so I kept moving.
Sterner’s battalion weren’t about to give up ground to the Japanese, and the battle didn’t cool off. G Company kept pushing until they had taken the western end of Clay Ridge. Anyone watching the encounter could see the tremendous effort they made.
While this action unfolded, the Imperial Army unleashed a terrifying new weapon. Three mammoth projectiles came screaming down into the Second Battalion’s line. The explosion sent dirt and rocks flying in every direction like a volcano erupting. Anyone near the explosions could feel their ears wilt. The ground shook under my feet. Finally, I made my way into their camp.
Three men were standing around one of the huge craters. Down inside the hole, another soldier appeared to be examining what was left of the tail fins that brought the flying pain-making pineapple cruising in on top of our men. I joined the soldiers.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Unbelievable! That doomsday machine made every other missile in the world look puny,” the sergeant said. “Bigger than anything I’ve ever heard of.”
“Must have been at least a three-hundred-twenty-millimeter mortar. The damn thing shore was a flying boxcar. Scared the pants off me.”
The men broke out cigarettes and kept talking.
“That hole is thirty to forty feet across,” the third man said. “Big as a swimming pool.”
“They’re trying to scare us to death,” I said.
“Well, if so, they’ve won that round,” the sergeant said.
Another explosion to our right shook the ground.
“Hate to say it,” I said, “but I don’t think I want to stay around you boys. You seem to be drawin’ the really big mosquitoes these days.”
“Do tell,” one of the soldiers said, and extended his hand to help the soldier in the crater back up to ground level.
“I’d say the Japanese blew a swimming pool in our backyard, but there’s a disadvantage to this flying monster,” the sergeant said. “All the fragmentation gets absorbed in the sides of the crater. Didn’t splatter on any of us. Whatever they’re after, the enemy better hit it head-on or all they get out of the blast is a big hole.”
“Good point,” I said.
“Hell,” one soldier said, “I still don’t want to be around when another flying boxcar drops in.”
“For sure,” the sergeant said, and the men walked away.
I went back to my task of taking a hard look at the caves and pillboxes that dotted the area. In a short time, I found nothing exceptional about them except that they were well located for maximum visibility as we approached. I sat down and rang up Command.
“Hey, I’ve been looking at the fortifications you asked me to inspect. I have an initial report.”
“Give it to me.”
“Nothing special going on. Just well-positioned units that are blowing the hell out of our men. The Second Battalion is taking savage resistance from Tombstone Ridge. They’re not letting up on hitting us.”
“Keep your hat on,” Command said. “Colonel Johnson called in an airstrike on Tombstone because the enemy are moving tanks toward us. They ought to be hitting about now. Watch out.” He hung up.
I crouched down behind a small rise and peered over the top. Within a couple of minutes, a formation of airplanes appeared on the horizon. The roar of the engines carried a disquieting, chilling threat. The airplanes began to turn out of their formation and dive straight at Tombstone. Bombs and explosions went off like the Fourth of July.
From my position, I could see the enemy had now figured out they’d best retreat before they got obliterated. The screaming dives must have panicked them as much as the flying boxcar bombs scared us. Their tanks came to an abrupt halt.
Didn’t take long for Colonel Johnson’s men to bring in two platoons of American tanks that started planting mines as a defense against any further advance of Japanese armor. For the moment, the enemy assault was stopped. I crawled away and went back to my task of sniffing out the pillboxes and burial caves.
Before I started back, I made one last check on the bunkers in the area to make sure nothing had changed. I thought to myself that anyone with any doubts about the status of the war ought to check this place out. They’d know for sure that the Japanese weren’t slowing down or quitting, even though we kept steadily pushing them back. Sniper fire remained heavy.
Virtually crawling, I maneuvered out the way I came in. As I got closer, I realized that the woman I’d seen earlier was still sitting there like an oblivious statue just as she had been. A second look revealed what I missed at first glance. The mother was already dead. I just didn’t see the wound. I couldn’t miss that the children were now dead.
I clamped my eyes shut, stumbled away, and kept walking.
Those drawn faces wouldn’t leave my mind.