8.(8-10) Roosevelt Eat Shit! Eleanor Eat Shit! Babe Ruth Eat Shit!

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8. Eleanor Eat Shit

Our airplane flies along coastline west to Lunga Point now teeming with U.S. barges. The airstrip is not yet ready for use. Overflying it, Fuji orders his pilot to turn in front of Mt. Austen for return run. He kicks open the bomb-bay door. Air whistles in as we skim barely above tall palms, and Fuji gets flat, his right hand reaching into a box of grenades.
   As we fly over, I see dozens of Americans, many stripped to waist, scattering out of our shadow. They fire at us with rifles, pistols, machine guns and Fuji, insane-look on his face, flings armed grenades out of the bomb-bay while screaming “Roosevelt eat shit! Eleanor eat shit! Babe Ruth eat shit!” Happily for me he exhausts his supply on one run. Standing, he commands the pilot to return to Rabaul and, turning to me with wink, says “Fun, what! Yankee Monkee bastards!”
   He rubs his abdomen. “Starving.” I follow him to a table with electric range where he cooks up a pot of steaming white rice and and another of fragrant brown bean soup; then, opens a tin of high-smelling black caviar and slices some flesh-brown raw tuna slab and uncorks his special champagne Pierre Mignon 1905. He fills two long-stem goblets with the yellow bubbly, and toasts “To wars: May they never end!” We clink, drink, and eat.

   “Army command at Rabaul assholes,” he says between puff of cigarette and bite of caviar. “And biggest is Hyakutake!” (He is referring to General Harukichi Hyakutake, Commandant of the 17^th Army) “Mind still mired in the 1904 Russo-Japanese War. Don’t realize airplane invented! Plans to fight pitched battle with MacArthur in New Guinea and capture Port Moresby and invade Aussie. Don't unnerstan’ American airbase on Guadalacanal'l will cut off 17^th Army supply line. When I tell 'im Monkees are landing here, he says 'Unimportant'.
    Hopeless! Complete asshole!”

9. Emperor of Rabaul

Night falls as we touch down at Rabaul. Fuji arranges quarters for me. Soon I am deep in dreamless sleep and next I know, morning sun warms my eyelids and lifting them I see shades up, windows open, and one charming kimono geisha laying tray on my bed table. She has made and I eat sliced yellow iced papaya, freshly panned pancakes with 3 German sausages in dripping maple syrup under melted butter, and toast with marmalade. Also a jug of coffee whose aroma alone energizes.
   Gorgeous Geisha dresses my wound and, bidding me enjoy breakfast, bows out.

Afternoon I am presented at General Hyakutake’s conference. Yesterday Fuji referred to Hyakutake as Emperor of Rabaul and now I see why. We are ushered into room by an officer in ceremonial uniform with sword at waist. Inside, 2 white cloth tables face across a 3-meter gap on plush purple carpet. Between far ends of the tables, on my left, is a throne-like elevated chair with red cushions.

   We take places: Fuji, Colonel Kiyonao Ichiki and I on one side; Major Generals Kawaguchi and Maruyama on the other. My first meeting with the higher brass of the 17^th Army but Fuji has filled me in on them.

   Kawaguchi with bristling twirl-pointed mustaches and custom tailored uniform smeared with medals across chest – the spittin’ image of his idol, ex-Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany – stands stiffly, his immaculately shining visor cap on table. On his left Maruyama in ill-fitting uniform stands absent-mindedly gazing down at tabletop. According to Fuji he is here by the influence of his kid sister, the Emperor’s favorite concubine.  
   To my right, Colonel Ichiki tries to emulate Kawaguchi's Prussian pose. A younger clean-shaven man, Ichiki is in Fuji’s words a “survivor of the Tokyo front.” Son of billionaire banker who donated tens of millions to the Imperial Army coffers, Ichiki has risen rapidly and now has chance to become combat hero and get general's stars.

   Protocol dictates we stand silently waiting for Excellence. After 5 minutes his imminent arrival is shouted out in military style. All that is missing are heralds and trumpets and I am rather surprised to see enter a bald man in his 60's with the wide butt spread so typical of our more senior generals. He takes the heavenly seat and we all bow deeply, sit and the conference commences.

   Warrant officer reads Imperial Rescript transferring ground operations to Army: Yamamoto is out, Hyakutake in.

   I am requested to report. I describe the American landing, emphasizing its extensive motorized nature. Estimate 6,000 marines. Fuji takes over. He says this is major invasion that if not crushed quickly by overpowering superior force will jeopardize our whole southeast Pacific field of operations. “While the Imperial Navy still controls the sea I implore your Excellence to land a full army division on Guadalcanal and kill the Americans before they consolidate.”

   After Fuji finishes, Kawaguchi opines that the Americans are trying to divert the imperial forces from the main mission: the capture of Port Moresby. The gist of his comment is that the Guadalcanal landing is a sign of American weakness. MacArthur with his undermanned, under supplied army is playing for time while his navy friends send their Marines to a god-forsaken island to make us think they are strong and to divert us from the primary mission. Now is the time to attack Port Moresby. After his Excellence has taken it he can mop up Guadalcanal at leisure.

   Next, Maruyama echoes Kawaguchi.

   Colonel Ichiki’s turn comes: In high-pitched oddly feminine voice he says he has listened respectfully to the honorable gentlemen on both sides and sees merit in both. Naturally, Port Moresby should be the primary objective of his Excellence but it would be disgraceful not to punish the Yankee Monkee insult to the Emperor on Guadalcanal. He, Ichiki, can lead a daring night attack. The Americans are weak and effeminate and, as all know, deathly afraid of night fighting. He, Ichiki, begs Excellence’s permission to do it.

   Ichiki sits. Silence. To my surprise Hyakutake stands and leaves without a word.

10. Another Quixote

Afternoon: Fuji says Ichiki's the one. With 1,000 men He has promised Hyakutake he will plant the Rising Sun Ball over the airfield 4 days after landing. Fuji is in good humor despite not having his way. “At least Old Prick opted for New Action,” he says, slapping my back jovially. “And I've arranged for your precious history of the campaign to be written first hand.”

   I thank him but not sincerely. I wish to record history in the making but prefer to write it from safety here because survival – mine – is my first objective.

   Fuji, sensing my misgivings, says with a sly eye wink. “Ichiki's another Don Quixote and you might enjoy being his Sancho Panza. Don't look so down in mouth, me boy! I gonna rescue you before curtain come down."  He pauses with smirk, "I've grown accustomed to your style. We shall die together.”

   Knowing his taste for modes of death I wonder whether it might not be better if he had not rescued me. But saying nothing I smile weakly.
   To read on, click 8.(11-16) Conqueror of Guadalcanal?