The 164th Regiment Series Boxset

by Chris Glatte

  Carver nodded, “Is there an exit?”

  Palmer nodded, “kinda. It ends in a waterfall. I’d say it’s a thirty-foot drop or so.” Carver cursed, but Palmer continued. “It looks like we can climb down the side of it. It’s straight down, but there’s thick vines we can use like rope.” Carver raised an eyebrow and Palmer nodded. “I think it’s doable.”

  56

  O’Connor and Gomez ran along the trail, careful not to disguise their tracks. It felt strange and unnatural to tromp along like an elephant.

  When they’d gone about one hundred yards, he stopped and Gomez kneeled down watching their back trail. “I’ll plant the grenade here,” O’Connor said. Gomez nodded and turned to help. O’Connor shook his head, “Keep watching the trail. I’ll let you know when I need your help.” He got to work scraping out a depression beside a small boulder along the edge of the trail. He cut a vine and wrapped it in a tight spiral in the depression. The rest he pulled across the trail.

  He pulled the pin on the grenade and placed it on the wrapped vine with the handle against the rock. He stacked small pebbles along the base to keep it in place. When he was satisfied it was stable, he stepped back and looked at his handy work. He pulled some branches across the front of the rock, hiding the grenade. “Hey, Gomez,” Gomez turned. “You see anything suspicious?”

  Gomez looked over the area and shook his head, “No, nothing. Where is it?” O’Connor pulled back the jungle branches revealing the grenade. He pointed to the vine running across the trail and smiled. Gomez nodded and stepped over the vine with one careful stride.

  Once past, O’Connor said, “Let’s make some time.”

  Before he turned away, Private Gomez slapped his arm. O’Connor turned, and Gomez asked, “How far we gonna go before heading back to the squad.”

  O’Connor shook his head. “There’s no chance we’ll get back to the squad. We’re on our own.”

  Gomez looked confused. “What? But you said…”

  “Forget what I said, Carver knows the score. If the Japs follow us, our only chance is this way. We can’t double back past them,” he gestured down the trail. “We’ll lead them this way then break off somewhere and head towards our lines to the west. We’ve gotta keep ‘em following us for awhile, or they’ll figure it out and head back to the creek in time to catch up with the others.” He wiped his brow. “We may need to lead ‘em all the way to the coast.”

  Gomez nodded. “Okay, I understand. Let’s move, we’re wasting time.”

  Captain Tagami and his men were running down the trail. They’d lost another man back at the creek. But instead of slowing them down it had the opposite effect, infusing them with hatred and revenge. It spurred them along like men possessed, throwing caution to the wind. Tagami let them run. He wanted revenge as much as they did and if they didn’t catch up with the Americans, his men had been maimed and killed for nothing.

  They came to another creek, and his soldiers stopped as the lead man checked for more traps. While he did so, they drank their remaining water. they knew they’d be able to refill their canteens immediately in the briny creek.

  When they were sure there were no traps they moved into the creekbed and refilled their canteens. They didn’t worry about purification. Most of them were already sick to some degree.

  Captain Tagami watched them fill their canteens as he got his breath back. Despite being wracked with disease and hunger, his troops were good soldiers. They fought hard despite the horrible conditions, and he was proud of them. It made losing them harder. Tagami knew he cared too much but couldn’t keep from feeling pride.

  Without a word from him, the men finished filling their canteens and continued up the trail. Captain Tagami looked downstream as he crossed the creek. It meandered away, and he smiled. If he were out walking with his wife, she would’ve insisted on exploring its path, but he had no time for such whimsy. He had Americans to hunt.

  They moved fast. They had no idea how far the Americans were, but he thought they must be gaining. He’d just stepped over a rotten log when the now familiar whump of a grenade blast sent him to the ground. Everyone was down, and the leaves and branches rained down on them like light snow.

  He was up, running forward past his men. The ground was smoking along the left side of the trail, a soldier lay sprawled beyond.

  Captain Tagami slid beside the first man and looked for wounds. The soldier’s legs were red with blood, his pants shredded like paper. Tagami ripped them away and could see meat, tendons, and bones. Dark, thick blood oozed and pooled, filling the crevices of the wounds. Captain Tagami didn’t know where to start. He pushed on his right leg trying to stem the flow of arterial blood, but it was useless, like trying to stem a river’s flow with a napkin. When he thought he’d stopped one, another would look worse, and he’d move his hands to the new one.

  He silently moved from one wound to another until the blood stopped flowing and the soldier stopped moving. He felt hands on his shoulder, and Sergeant Chida looked down at him. Tagami looked at him as if from out of a haze. His teary eyes made Chida looked fuzzy and wrong somehow. He shook his head and wiped his eyes spreading thick blood across his face.

  Captain Tagami came back to the present and stood. His men formed a semi-circle around him. His arms were caked with sticky blood up to his elbows. The men stared, not used to an officer showing emotion. It embarrassed them, and when Captain Tagami looked at them with blurred eyes, they lowered their gazes in respect.

  Captain Tagami looked at each man. They needed a strong leader, not a simpering child. When he got to Sergeant Chida’s face, he addressed them. “These cowardly Americans take life without honor. They hide and set traps like children. We will overtake them and destroy them. We must avenge our fallen comrades. Their deaths will not be in vain. They must pay for their cowardice!”

  He ordered the body taken to the side of the trail. Again there was no time for burials. He wondered how long it would take the jungle to consume him. He pictured him full of maggots. A sight he’d seen many times since this war began.

  He waved them forward once again, hoping he wouldn’t have to see more of his men blown up.

  It didn’t seem like much time had passed when O’Connor and Gomez heard the soft thump of an explosion. They stopped and crouched. They looked at one another, and Gomez licked his dry lips. “They’re close.”

  O’Connor nodded. “Say quarter mile back? Maybe five minutes if they’re sprinting, which they must be.”

  Gomez looked down the trail then back to O’Connor. “How far to the coast you figure?”

  O’Connor looked up at the canopy over their head and the glimpse of sky. “I don’t know, but I bet we can get there before dark.” Gomez looked to the sky, and for the first time noticed it was evening. He felt fatigue come over him as he realized he’d been fighting and running the entire day.

  With shaking hands, he unscrewed the lid of his canteen and took a swig. The briny, chemical taste normally would’ve made him gag, but the coolness wetting his throat and tongue made him coo in pleasure.

  O’Connor drank too and savored every drop. He pulled out a K-rat bar and gnawed an edge, ripping off a chunk. He handed it to Gomez who did the same. They washed it down with another swill of briny, Haldane infused water.

  Without a word, they took off down the trail again. They pushed hard, trying to put distance between themselves and the men trying to kill them. They’d gone ten minutes when O’Connor slowed. They were both ready to collapse. The K-bar and water had helped, but they needed more calories. Their bodies were threatening to shut down.

  The ground hardened beneath their feet, some of the only solid ground they’d found along the trail. O’Connor remembered the section from the day before. His exhausted mind tried to play back how far the section had been from their insertion point. Everything was fuzzy in his mind. The actions from the day before seemed a lifetime ago.

  Through labored breathing, he said, “We’re
almost there. I remember this section.” Gomez only grunted, he didn’t have the energy to waste on speech.

  O’Connor stopped running and walked, trying to get control of his breathing. Gomez almost ran into him but pulled up short. O’Connor said, “listen, we’re close to the coast. We need to get off the trail and let them pass. We don’t want to get in a firefight with our backs to the water.”

  Gomez gasped, “We don’t wanna get in a firefight at all, mano. We’re outnumbered.”

  O’Connor leaped off the trail and landed on his feet without causing damage to the surrounding jungle. Gomez followed, trying for the same, but he stumbled and rolled, flattening the foliage. He cursed and tried to get the jungle back to its original state. He watched O’Connor slithering through the jungle. He looked back at the mess he’d made and decided it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He followed O’Connor into the jungle not wanting to lose sight of him.

  Captain Tagami’s squad moved like men possessed. He felt his legs would give out with each step, but to his surprise, they moved forward. The ground hardened the further they traveled. There was still mud, but it was getting less soupy. Soon the trail turned to hard ground, and the squad had to slow down. It wasn’t as easy to follow the American’s tracks.

  Captain Tagami ordered them to return to a normal patrol pace. To Sergeant Chida he said, “Speed means nothing if we lose the trail. Tell the men we’re approaching the coast. We’ll find them soon or not at all.” Chida looked at him, questioningly. Tagami smiled through his barely controlled breathing. He exaggerated sniffing, “I can smell the sea.” Chida nodded and passed the word to slow down and stay alert.

  The evening was progressing towards darkness. They didn’t have the supplies for an extended patrol. They had enough food for one night. They were already on half provisions, so missing rations for an entire day could prove disastrous. Captain Tagami planned on finding the Americans before morning. If he lost them, he’d be forced to retreat or risk losing men to dehydration and exhaustion.

  Tagami was lost in thought when the column stopped and crouched. He bumped into the man to his front. He crouched and pulled his pistol, ready for trouble. Sergeant Chida shuffled through the line and whispered, “We’ve found something strange.”

  Tagami followed his sergeant forward. Two soldiers were facing west, crouched with their weapons ready. Sergeant Chida pointed, “See how the jungle’s laid down there? It looks like they may have gone that way, but it also looks like some continued this way.”

  Captain Tagami looked over the situation. “They split then. Can you tell which path most of them went?”

  Sergeant Chida shook his head. “The path we’re on is most used, but…” he trailed off.

  “What is it, Sergeant? We’re wasting time. It’ll be dark soon.”

  “The path we’re on is older than the one moving west. Private Sai and Tsukada agree; no one’s used this trail for at least a day. And one more thing: the boot tracks are going the wrong way.”

  Captain Tagami stood and stared down at the two privates. “You men are experienced trackers?”

  They stared up at their superior officer and nodded, “Yes, sir, we have some experience.”

  Tagami grit his teeth. “Have we been following a false path? Has the main force split off, and we’re following a ruse?”

  Sergeant Chida stood and looked down, “It appears so, sir.”

  Captain Tagami felt the blood rush to his head. He scowled at the privates who stared at the jungle floor. They seemed like cowering dogs waiting for the whip. He wanted to yell, to scream, to demand why they hadn’t noticed earlier, but it would do no good and waste more time.

  Instead of yelling he took a deep breath and looked at the trail leading west. He thought about the briny creek they’d crossed, the one his wife would have wanted to explore. That is where they deceived us.

  He pointed, “We will follow the decoys and destroy them. It’s too late to double back and find the main force. They’ll be close to their lines by now.”

  He slapped the two privates on their backs. They flinched. “Can you follow this trail to the Americans?” They nodded like children asked if they wanted ice cream. “Do it.” They stood and moved into the jungle following the fresh track.

  57

  Lieutenant Koga gazed into the canyon where he knew the Americans were trapped. He’d sent an assault squad, but they’d been shot up badly. The Americans were well concealed. Sending men headlong into the teeth of the canyon would result in more heavy losses.

  He spoke to his sergeant. “We will wait for darkness and assault again. Sneak close, no noise, then attack them with grenades. I want them all killed, and the maps returned.”

  Sergeant Higashi nodded his understanding. “We will make it so, sir.”

  “We must assault as soon as it’s dark enough, I don’t want them slipping out the back-end of this canyon.”

  Sergeant Higashi shook his head, “I know this canyon, it ends in a large waterfall. There’s no escape.”

  Lieutenant Koga continued. “Send five men overland to set an ambush below the waterfall. Tell them to be ready to kill any stragglers trying to escape.”

  Sergeant Higashi bowed and trotted away to pick five men. Getting around the canyon through the jungle would be difficult. He chose his strongest men. He made sure they were clear on their mission and sent them away as the canyon shadows spread.

  An hour later Lieutenant Koga deemed it dark enough to start their sneak down the canyon.

  The bulk of the platoon stepped out of the jungle and into the creekbed. They hunched and moved over the uneven creek bottom with caution. Lieutenant Koga was amongst them, his submachine gun hanging across his chest, ready for action.

  As they moved down the creek and into the canyon, the darkness closed on them. The canyon walls were lighter higher up, still holding a slight evening glow, but the bottom was dark. We’ll catch the Americans by surprise.

  Sergeant Higashi led them. He moved with caution and the platoon was silent as the night. The canyon walls closed in becoming magnifiers for any sounds.

  Higashi’s steps were sure and silent. He stopped and crouched straining to see into the gloom of the canyon. The Americans were only yards ahead unless they’d moved. Sergeant Higashi looked behind him and found Lt. Koga staring at him. Koga nodded and waved his hand forward. The platoon continued downstream. Koga let a few men flow by him, then rose and moved forward another ten yards.

  Lieutenant Koga halted them and signaled to use grenades. Sergeant Higashi was ready. He passed the order, and the soldiers in front pulled grenades from their ammo pouches. In perfect unison, the leading six men pulled the pins, slammed the tops onto their helmets, arming them, and threw the grenades into the darkness. Four seconds later six earsplitting explosions reverberated down the canyon. The canyon walls lit up like broad daylight for an instant leaving anyone watching temporarily blind.

  The Japanese soldiers rose from their crouched positions and ran forward firing their rifles and submachine guns.

  Sergeant Carver didn’t like his predicament. His squad was in a good defensive position, but seven men couldn’t withstand the platoon that was bearing down on them. They’d given the Japs a bloody nose, but they were out of grenades, and they’d shot through most of their ammo. He figured as soon as it got dark the Japs would make their assault. It’s what he would do.

  Keeping two men watching upstream he gathered the others. “I figure the Japs are coming at us as soon as it gets dark. We’re down to a couple of clips apiece. I’ve got three magazines for the Thompson. We’re out of grenades.” He patted the satchel that had become a part of his body. “This has gotta be the real deal or they wouldn’t be coming at us this hard. We’ve gotta get it back to HQ. It could save a lot of American lives.” The men stared at him blankly. They looked tired and ready to drop.

  He shook his head. “The only lives I give a rats ass about right now, though, are yours. If I could
give this to them,” he touched the satchel, “In exchange for letting us go, I’d do it in a second, but we all know that ain’t happening. Japs don’t deal, and they don’t take prisoners.” He looked from man to man. “If we stay here and fight, we’ll kill a lot of Japs, but eventually we’ll run out of ammo, and they’ll run over us. The way I see it, our only chance is down the canyon and out the other side.” The men nodded their agreement. “There’s a waterfall, but Palmer said there’s a way down along the side. We move out in ten minutes. Fill canteens and eat what grub you can find.”

  Ten minutes later they were moving downstream. It was still light on the canyon walls, but deep in the canyon, shadow turned to darkness.

  Private Palmer led the way. It was further than Sergeant Carver thought. Before they got to the lip of the falls, explosions at the mouth of the canyon erupted and rolled down the canyon like flood water. The squad sank to their knees turning towards the threat.

  Carver was up, moving to Private Palmer. “How much further?”

  “Guessing fifty yards. It’s hard to tell in the dark.”

  Carver slapped him on the back. “Keep moving. Go.” Palmer stood and splashed his way downstream. No use being quiet now. Carver stopped Private Crofter and Curtis, who were watching their rear. “Find cover and slow the Japs down when you see ‘em, then get the hell outta there.” The two soldiers looked at one another then back at Carver and nodded. “Take two shots each then move. It’s fifty yards from here. We’ll cover you when you get close. No heroics, two shots and run. Got it?” They nodded and spread out to either side of the canyon. They leaned against bulky boulders and disappeared.

  Carver took off downstream hoping he didn’t twist an ankle on the slippery rocks. He came up on the squad forty yards ahead and nearly had his head taken off by jittery soldiers with fingers on triggers. Private Willy’s teeth gleamed in the night, “Almost got your head blown off, Sarge.”