8.(33-38) Final Battle - End Slim Novel 8

Slim Novel 8 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage


33. Jungle March to Action

March to action begins. Colonel Sumiyoshi leads his soldiers along the coast to the Matanikau River where he is expected to secure both sides then attack Henderson Field from the west. Main group under Maruyama, which includes Fuji and me, moves along trail toward Mount Austen. Maruyama’s engineers assured him the trail would be wide enough for our tanks but as we near Mount Austen it narrows forcing the men to go single file and we abandon the tanks. We slog on. We cross streams filled with leeches that crawl up leg under pants and burrow into warm scrotum to suck blood. Maruyama and Kawaguchi argue incessantly over plan of attack. Kawaguchi wants the main force to circle south and wade down the Ilu to surprise the Marines on their east flank thus forming a pincer with Sumiyoshi’s men but that will mean delaying the battle 2 days and Maruyama stubbornly says No.
   Fuji is silent, flushed and his eyes shine brightly.

34. Final Battle

Evening and final battle for Henderson Field!  At twilight, the sky is dotted with our bombers hitting Marine positions and blasting holes in their airstrip. Maruyama is overjoyed because the bombers mean to him the long awaited completion of our airfield on Bougainville and will help much. Night sky along the ridge flashes fitfully with small arms fire. Maruyama has decided not to start an all-out assault preferring nibbling away tactics.

Dawn opens with tropical rain that turns jungle floor into a morass of mud. Fuji is flat on mat, teeth chattering, skin hot, eye-whites yellow and mind in China on eve of the Nanking massacre.

35. First Objective Secured

Almost 6 AM. I lie beside Colonel Nasu in undergrowth at jungle edge. Before us is upward slope, and beyond it the defense line on south edge of Henderson Field. Rain has stopped but ground is sea of mud into which we have partly sunk. 
   Along Jungle’s edge, Nasu's junior officers await their wristwatch seconds hand crossing 0600 mark. Zero hour! Lucky for me I shall not be in the assault. Colonel Nasu, more intelligent than the usual Army officer, prefers being a smart and alive leader to a dumb dead one; so he will remain in present observer position and me too. He hands me binoculars. In hazy morning light I see the sandbag Marine position atop ridge. Just then, out of the air above comes the closing roar of opposing planes and dozens of Zero fighters flash out of clouds wing guns spraying the Marines positions with bullets. All around, banzai shout resounds as our troops burst from jungle facing the ridge and advance in the high grass under friendly mortar cover.

   I expect repeat of withering Marine defense fire experienced last month. But instead the Americans charge out screaming and shouting, lob grenades like touchdown passes and shoot sub-machine guns from hip. Both forces roll into each other like opposing surf. Colonel Nasu barks commands into field phone. At once our artillery pounds Marine position behind battle line. More Zeros zip out laying down smoke trail on the enemy machine guns, and waves of our troops run screaming from right and left jungle edge in a perfect pincer. As smoke gets out of eyes I see our troops overrunning the Marine position. An officer leaps atop the enemy’s sandbags and plants Japan's Rising Sun flag to tremendous cheers which I must admit include my own. Despite my bias, the environment evokes patriotic passion. Put a man in uniform, show him enemy blood and raise the flag before his eyes and even a rabid pacifist will revert to caveman.

  Colonel Nasu turns to me. “Go and report to General Maruyama: First objective is secured.”

36. Victory or Death

I breathlessly report the Imperial Army’s first success to Maruyama. Visibly elated he orders aide to break out the saké wine and we toast the Emperor. Despite it, Kawaguchi’s force has not begun its attack and Maruyama is furious. “That Prussian-loving bastard has betrayed my orders the last time! I will relieve him of command in favor of Colonel Oka. You know the terrain, Lieutenant Kimura. Take Oka and staff to Kawaguchi.” He scribbles away on sheet, presses official stamp and hands it to Oka.

Silence with undertone of twitters of the jungle: General Kawaguchi sits against a tree, eyes bloodshot, skin malarial yellow, forehead covered with sweat. Colonel Oka salutes and hands him the order. Kawaguchi wearily rises and reads then hands it back and unbuckles his samurai sword, and with sweep of right hand tears the 2 general’s stars from tunic collar. Oka a man of sensibility and previously Kawaguchi’s subordinate is ill at ease. He takes Kawaguchi aside and they talk several minutes. Then they bow and Kawaguchi, summoning his aide, heads toward headquarters while Oka sends a runner to General Maruyama asking permission to bypass the ridge and attack Henderson Field from the west in the early morning rain.

Sun is low in sky when Maruyama’s note arrives: “Plan approved. Victory or death! Banzai!

37. TOJO ICE PLANT: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

Starry moonlit night: I wade along shallows on left bank of the Ilu River beside Colonel Oka at head of a column. After an hour going downriver we take position in jungle several body lengths from the Marine post that marks the east edge of Henderson Field. The Marines detect our presence and pepper us with machine gun fire. Repeated exchanges in English go on. Samples follow.

Imperial Army man: “Blood for the Emperor!”

   U.S. Marine: “Blood for Eleanor! Tojo eat shit!”

   From our side a pause for thought, then: “Joe DiMaggio eat shit!”

   I glance at watch. Luminous dial reads 1 minute to 7. Overhead purple flare lights up the dawn sky; it is Colonel Sumiyoshi on the Matanikau signaling readiness. Then to the south another flare – Colonel Nasu.  All around, nervous gabble spreads. Oka shouts the attack signal “Go! Go! Go!” It reverberates down the line.

   Led by officers with luminous X’s painted on back of uniform, successive waves of troops rush forward shouting “Banzai!”

By 7:30 we have broken the Marine line and control the southeast corner of the strip. I am with Oka lying on my chest in command-post rubble where in earlier days our engineers had set up a refrigeration unit.
   But now over the entrance, the Chinese characters are over-painted with “TOJO ICE PLANT, UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT", and, on inside wall in letters 2 feet high, it proclaims “KILL JAPS! KILL JAPS! KILL MORE JAPS!”

   Despite our initial success, Marine resistance is stiffening.

As hours pass, tables turn and now it is we who are pinned down and surrounded. Overhead ferocious battle goes on involving Kate fighters, Grumman Hellcats, Zeros, P-42s and whatever else can get into the air. Bright flashes over north end of field indicate naval battle raging off Lunga Point.

With night our situation is desperate. We repel Marine assault but are down to last round of ammunition, and an ominous lull in our lives presages the final assault.

   Oka addresses us. “Gentlemen, we have lost the Battle of Guadalcanal. I plan to die like a samurai, facing our enemy with sword high. Those of you who wish may follow me."
   "Lieutenant Kimura, you are not here as soldier, you must survive so our wives, children and their descendants will know how and why we die. Escape while we divert the Yankee. Please take this gold watch and see it gets to my son. My spectacles I should like my wife to have. Apologize to General Maruyama for my not succeeding.”

   According to sentimental rules I should protest and ask to die with Mon Colonel but no words come. He hands me the wristwatch and spectacles and we shake hands. I am aware of contemptuous eyes directed at me. How liberating it might be if they realized their contempt is envy. But they are toy robots wound up to behave and think as their makers desire; and self-awareness is not part of that program. Moment later I slip into the jungle in rapidly deepening dark as early morning rain pitter-patters, and behind me banzais brashly boom.

38. Spirit

That is my Guadalcanal! Its denouement – how 24,000 more men die from American firepower, malaria and starvation; how our high command refuses to acknowledge defeat – I shall not detail. It is a boring tale of stupid men – leaders and led. The problem demonstrated by Midway and Guadalcanal is that we are a land of two cultures – a top layer of raw, westernized leaders whose psychology is still mired in feudal past; and a populace of robots conditioned to never question authority. The leaders are like children playing at modern war games in sandbox: aristocrats and military formerly the rural samurai class, unprincipled and ruthless, they rule at home by criminality while playing at war with the West as if still in the isolated Tokugawa world of the 1600's using the populace as cannon fodder.
   But reality intervenes. For every Port Arthur, Pearl Harbor, Nanking, where victories were won because of dirty trick surprise, there are the realities of Midway and Guadalcanal – the wave of future – where the Imperial force gets its collective comeuppance because its leaders are ignoramuses who know nothing of modern diplomacy and warfare, and because the other side is wiser, stronger and more skillful at modern war due to its culture of scientific education.

   Our leaders think Spirit can win wars. “Hah!” I saw Spirit plunging in death with 4 carriers at Midway, Spirit ground into raw meat by machine guns with Ichiki’s men, Spirit hacked to shreds at Bloody Ridge, Spirit annihilated in wasteful banzai attack.

   Spirit cannot stand against superior firepower, better intelligence, efficient organization. The Americans beat us precisely because they lack spirit, and because they admire science and value individual life more highly than we do, and as result use it more efficiently to kill us
   End Slim Novel 8; to read on, click 9.(0-1) Slim Novel 9 Cover, Synopsis/Intro and Cha...