The Deadeyes had done quite a job. The men of the 381st and 382nd had taken a big dose of hell and given it all back special delivery airmail. The Japanese had to know they weren’t dealing with Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse. However, a price was paid for every inch of ground we took away from them. The cost remained high.
Hill Seven had been a problem from the beginning. That particular hill seemed to carry a curse. While it wasn’t big, the damned hunk of dirt remained fierce. Well, who should they call up but our old friend Lieutenant Hoss Mitchell. Hoss and L Company were assigned to clear out the Japanese. Taking two platoons with him, Hoss started up the hill.
Sergeant Paul Lemons crouched close to Hoss and asked if he’d seen any of them yet.
Hoss shook his head.
Lemons slipped back but kept walking. The silence became eerie.
Rifleman PFC Ed Mitchell stood at the rear. He commented that it bothered him that they hadn’t heard from the enemy yet and hoped this wasn’t a setup.
The man next to him nodded but didn’t answer.
The unit kept moving. Abruptly, heavy mortar fire rained down on them.
Hoss called for everybody to drop down.
Rapid machine-gun fire drowned out any other conversations. The men didn’t move until the roar settled.
Hoss screamed for an attack and rushed forward.
L Company eventually got to the crest of the hill and hunkered down. The Third Platoon never made it. Heavy mortar fire kept them pinned. When they could no longer move, they walkie-talkied to Hoss. No one was sure what to do, but Hoss thought they ought to wait until it got dark.
With their guns ready to fire, the men marked time. Late in the afternoon, the Japanese counterattacked. Bullets flew like hail. The soldiers kept firing back.
When the sound of battle slacked off, Hoss called the unit on the phone.
The unit reported it had been a tough one. Really tough. But they’d stopped the enemy. They had no idea how many were killed, but the bodies were all over the ground.
Hoss Mitchell thought about it for a moment and asked how many had come up the hill.
The soldier answered ten. Nine were wounded. He was all that was left.
At the same time, the men of I Company struck the Japanese on Hill Nine. Lieutenant George Weiner commanded the soldiers of the Second Platoon. As they approached the hill, Weiner knew they needed more information on what might be ahead.
Weiner told the sergeant that he was going to crawl further and get the lay of the land. He needed cover.
The sergeant nodded.
Weiner cautiously worked his way ahead of the platoon. He’d gotten about fifty yards up the hill when ten machine guns opened up from the main ridge to the south. Weiner’s body jerked violently before he tumbled over backward and rolled down the hill.
The sergeant moaned that they got the lieutenant. He ordered the soldiers to start backing away.
The men quickly beat a retreat. The sergeant rolled over and grabbed the walkie-talkie to report that the enemy had just killed their platoon commander. They’d caught him from both the left and right sides. The sergeant called for the artillery people and the antitank guns to blast this area all to hell. They would be out of there within minutes.
The platoon kept retreating. Almost immediately, the artillery barrage covered the area with shells. The Japanese got Lieutenant Weiner, but we ended up wiping out the entire batch.
No matter where our men turned, the Japanese kept slugging it out. Some units had to retreat, but our men fought well even if, tragically, many died. We had cut through some of the toughest territory in the entire war, but our guys kept going. Fundamentally, the defense of the Tanabaru-Nishabaru line was broken.
* * *
By the end of the day I suspected we would gather the commanding officers as well as the executive officers and maybe the operations officers in the command tent to hear what General James Bradley and General Claudius Easley planned to do next. I walked in and nodded to a number of the men I knew who were already there.
Stretched across the front of the platform were maps of our next confrontation. Routes had already been marked out for where the 382nd Infantry would come pouring in across from Tanabaru Hill and keep marching straight ahead. Another set of lines marked the 381st coming out of Nishabaru and aiming at a place called Maeda. Obviously, careful thought had been given to this attack.
General Bradley walked to the podium and all talking ceased.
“At ease, men,” Bradley began, and then stopped to clear his throat. “The last four days have been as difficult as any of us have ever faced. Even with incessant mortar and artillery fire, we have still worked our way forward. At every turn, the Japanese counterattacked. As difficult as it has been, we held them off. Nevertheless, the cost has been high. In addition to the ninety-nine men killed, we have ninety-nine who are missing. We all know what that probably means. Moreover, six hundred of our finest soldiers have been wounded. While no comparisons can be made, we killed thirteen hundred of the emperor’s warriors at the same time. While you may not have felt it during the struggle, we have won a highly important victory.”
A hush settled over the room. Surely, everyone appreciated the achievement, but losing eight hundred soldiers took one’s breath away. The raw figures left their mark.
Bradley turned back to the large map. “We are now positioned for the next big hurdle. The escarpment is a fierce line of cliffs that cuts the island in two. That’s where we are headed tomorrow.”
I didn’t think General Bradley even needed to say the word escarpment because everyone in the room knew what this ridge meant. Running almost completely across Okinawa, the escarpment had been well equipped to be the enemy’s major line of defense. Whatever we had faced previously, the escarpment would be a much worse experience.
“I have six battalions on the line for a coordinated attack,” General Bradley continued. “Two of Colonel Halloran’s battalions will attack from the south atop Nishabaru Ridge. Kakazu will be assaulted by one battalion from both the Twenty-Seventh and the Seventh Division. We’re calling this group Bradford’s Task Force. Other units will be deployed in additional configurations. Are there any questions?”
Hands began going up as various leaders had their own personal questions. Commanding officers wanted more details on where to position their units. Executive services and operations officers had procedural questions.
General Bradley concluded by noting that Japanese artillery had been relatively heavy during the night. “Under the cover of darkness, we believe they have been retreating to a new position. The big guns have been a camouflage for troop movement. They are repositioning themselves to the Maeda escarpment.”
As Bradley walked away, General Easley took the podium. “This recent movement and return to a new defense line reveal the truth about the enemy. We are not fighting a banzai-minded group of maniacs. We are faced with well-trained, informed, and skillful generals. Once more, we must defeat a highly competent foe.”
I guess so, I thought to myself. We’re going to take another trip through hell with the cannons booming and the Japanese screaming. Here we go again.