Prehistoric WWII

by Dane Hatchell

  Phelps took a deep breath and pushed on. They hadn’t eaten yet and still had plenty of water. It was hot, but the jungle did provide ample shade. At least the jungle wasn’t as dense now. In fact, they had been traveling slightly uphill, and now the terrain was leveling.

  The grass grew lower and trees thinned enough that Phelps didn’t feel like something waited to attack at every step.

  A tannish-yellow pterosaur soared down from above and nested at the top of a tree. This reptile was much closer than the one at the beach, though not as large. Phelps estimated its wingspan to be a little more than three meters.

  All the men watched in fascination. The pterosaur had a long and somewhat narrow bird-like beak. They were close enough, or at least the teeth large enough, for them to see. It was a strange sight, as Phelps imagined what birds back home would look like with teeth. The crest on the back of its head was as nearly as long as its bill. The creature looked like a strange mixture of bat, bird, and reptile.

  “I wonder if it sees us if it will attack,” Gwerder said.

  “It would be the last thing it would do,” Lange said, bringing up his rifle and taking careful aim. “That head would look good on my wall.”

  “You don’t have a wall to put it on,” Ernst said.

  “I will one day. I will send for Anna once I make a new life in South America. We will live on a farm, have many children.” Lange lowered the rifle, his eyes glistened. “Our kids will only know the future I make for them.”

  So, Wilhelm Lange had a heart hidden beneath his brash behavior. Losing the war apparently had him reconsidering everything he believed in and forced him to take a different perspective in life. Phelps found that to be true of himself. Time and fate would write the others’ stories.

  “Look over there,” Witt whispered.

  Something wandered into Phelps’ peripheral as Witt spoke. At first, he thought it was a rhinoceros. A greenish-yellow rhinoceros. But it didn’t take long for his brain to override the false imagine it had initially forced. This was no rhino from the wilds of Africa. This was another dinosaur. A triceratops, as he recalled from his schooling. Beyond that, he didn’t remember much about the animal. This one was more than two meters long and a meter and a half tall. It was a strange looking creature, as its shape resembled four-legged mammal grass eaters, but had a beak-like mouth instead. Two brow horns set above its eyes, and a smaller horn jutted from its nose. A bony frill fanned atop of its head. One thing for sure, the animal would have made a good battering ram.

  The triceratops grazed lazily on the green grass and occasionally sampled leaves from nearby plants. Its stumpy legs kept it naturally close to the ground.

  The five men watched from behind a broad leaf plant.

  “This could be a problem,” Phelps said in a low voice.

  “I am sure the commander would want to learn of this as soon as possible,” Ernst said.

  “It is a grass eater, so I do not think it would see us as food. Still, it might consider us as a threat. I am not sure of its skull thickness. Bullets might have a hard time finding its brain,” Witt said.

  “Then we shoot it like a deer—behind its front legs,” Lange said.

  Witt shook his head. “Its body is so thick. I am not sure if the bullets would penetrate far enough reach its heart.”

  “As long as we keep quiet and our distance, we will not need to find out,” Phelps said. But what if the triceratops did find them and attacked? He realized that wishing to avoid an encounter was not what a leader should do. It was his job to prepare the men for the worst. “We are going to go around it. If it discovers us and attacks, everyone take the best shot you can. We do not necessarily have to kill it, just scare it off.”

  Heads nodded in agreement.

  Just as Phelps was about to make the first step to lead his men, something far away thumped. He froze and turned an ear toward the sound. The thump repeated. Did he just feel a vibration on the ground at the same time as the thump?

  The time between thumps shortened, and there was no doubt at each sound the earth beneath his feet shook. Something large was coming their way.

  A gray head emerged past branches of a tree some thirty meters in front of the triceratops. The T. rex stepped confidently toward its prey.

  Phelps felt a cold tingling sensation where his spine connected to his head. This was what he had feared the most. A dinosaur five meters tall and over ten meters long approached with uncanny grace. It had grayish skin similar to an elephant’s, with darker stripes running from its spine down its side. Two small arms bounced in front of its chest, and the tail shifted to balance its body as powerful legs tread across the earth.

  The triceratops listlessly raised its head with its mouth open. It immediately saw the T. rex heading for it and turned to escape.

  Something rumbled behind the triceratops, blocked from view by jungle growth.

  A few moments later another triceratops emerged. This one all brown in color, and three times the size of the previous one. It ran toward the T. rex like an angry bull toward a matador.

  The T. rex checked its advance and veered to the side. It opened its monstrous mouth, showing rows of sharp, jagged teeth, and hissed.

  Phelps and the others watched in awe.

  Phelps was astounded by the sheer mass of these two creatures. The triceratops wasn’t as tall as the T. rex, but it was considerably longer. And even though the triceratops didn’t have teeth, from what he could tell, its beak looked like it could cut the rex’s leg in two with one bite.

  The T. rex side-stepped and hissed again, shifting its body about, threatening to attack.

  The triceratops held its ground and brayed as loud as a train whistle. It lifted its head and pointed its brow horns at the rex.

  The death dance began with the T. rex stepping toward the grass eater and biting empty air near its head. The brow horns narrowly missed the rex’s mouth, and the animal stepped back in a defensive move.

  Trying to get a rear advantage, the rex started to circle the triceratops. The grass eater was considerably nimble for its size and spun on its five-toed feet to keep its armored head pointed at the predator.

  The rex lunged again without teeth finding purchase. But the triceratops jutted its head forward, digging its horns in the rex’s gut.

  With arms up in surprise, the rex thrashed its head and tail about enough to wiggle free. Red blood oozed down the side of its stomach where the horns had penetrated.

  The air was electrified by the savagery. Phelps could hardly breathe from the firm hand of fear’s grip. For a moment, he thought the rex might be on the retreat, but the creature had simply turned in a short circle, and brought its mighty jaws across the triceratops’ head.

  Spikey teeth chomped down on one of the brow horns, the triceratops struggled to pull free. The rex didn’t waiver and held fast through the cries of its victim, twisting its head about until the horn snapped in half.

  Backing away, the triceratops kept its head up, warning the rex it wasn’t ready to surrender the fight just yet.

  No matter. The rex dove with another crushing bite that came down on one side of the prey’s frill. Sharp snaps of bone breaking penetrated the brays of the grass eater. Somehow it managed to free itself once again, but its movements were less certain. There was no mistaking the triceratops was injured, and the rex acted like victory was only a matter of time.

  Another bite toward the triceratops’ head had it twisting to the side to avoid it, leaving the back of its neck exposed.

  Wasting no time, the rex’s jaws opened wide and bit behind the frill. Blood squirted like a fountain. The triceratops cried as loud as an air horn and thrashed as much as its squatty body allowed.

  The rex held firm, twisting its head from side to side until the grass eater went still. It pulled back and came away with a man-sized hunk of blood-dripping meat. Lifting its head back, the dinosaur swallowed the first spoil of its kill and returned to strip more flesh from i
ts victim.

  “I think we should leave now,” Witt whispered in Phelps’ ear.

  Phelps had been lost in the fray. Witt’s words pulled him back to take charge of the situation. He turned and looked at the faces of his men, their thoughts easily read. “We are heading back to camp.”

  They wouldn’t be able to make it to camp before dark. Still, beasts this big didn’t seem to inhabit the span of land from where they were to the camp. Even making it back halfway would give him enough confidence they would be safe for the night.

  Chapter 10

  Brazo stared past the sand he knelt on trying to see into a dark future, but there was nothing. Still breathing heavy from his outburst, he tried to relax the muscles in his tight back. He slowly realized the spectacle he’d made of himself and felt the eyes of his crewmen upon him.

  How could he have lost control of himself in such manner? Rage had totally consumed him and became his master. Was he fit to command anymore? Even harboring such doubt was enough for him to step down and let the XO take over.

  “Captain?” Slick asked, concern in his tone.

  Brazo raised his left hand and waved him off. He was the captain and would remain as such. Standing to his feet, he brushed embedded grains of sand from his skinned knuckles. His shirt had become untucked, and he methodically pushed the tails back in his trousers. Facing his crewmen, with an unapologetic expression, he said, “Our mission is to set camp, and then try and figure out where we are and how to contact help. We are members of the United Sates Navy, and I have the utmost faith that all efforts to find us will be exhausted. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say getting rescued is a certain possibility. There is so much we don’t know, but if it’s one chance in a million, then it’s still a chance. We’ll have to keep our wits sharp if we want to survive this thing. You saw what we faced in the ocean. I imagine whatever lives on land will be equally as deadly. Somehow this land has escaped the passage of time. If any of you remember reading about dinosaurs from school, well, hope for the best, expect the worst.” His last warning seemed absurd to his own ears, but he was in no position to take chances.

  The crewmen’s reactions varied. Some gazed around in disbelief; others received it as ordinary orders. At least everyone was on their feet. Those traumatized the worst had pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, though tears did roll down a few faces.

  “We lost a lot of good men today. I am the captain, and I take full responsibility. I grieve for them just as you. But now isn’t the time to wallow in grief. Distractions will only get us killed. I don’t want to lose any more of you. Stay tight, watch out for yourself and others. We’ll get through this together,” Brazo said.

  He turned to the XO. “Have the men gather supplies from the rafts and prepare to find a good location for camp.”

  “Yes, sir,” Slick said and turned to the crewmen. “You heard the captain, empty out the rafts.” He turned and pointed. “Rodrigue, you and Underwood grab a couple of rifles and scan the perimeter of the jungle. Let us know at first sign of trouble.”

  The two gave a quick salute and sped away toward their guns.

  Slick looked down at the sand, and then back toward Brazo. “Captain?”

  Brazo felt a little sorry for what he imagined weighed on his XO’s mind. The two had grown close enough during a previous deployment to say they shared a genuine friendship. The captain could bulldoze through the event to his men like it never happened, but Alan Slick, his friend, wanted closure.

  “Yeah, I lost it. I can’t say it any other way,” Brazo said.

  “I’m trying to hide it, but I’m still shaking inside,” Slick said. “What we went through was totally unbelievable.”

  “It was, but our training prepared us for war. In a sense, this isn’t different. This is prehistoric war. It may be a war mankind wasn’t meant to fight, but we have no control over our situation. It’s up to me, it’s up to you, and every water dog in our crew to make this work. I know I let my emotions take over earlier, but I’ve learned from that. That’s a line you won’t have to worry about me crossing again.”

  “I know you, Captain, and I have the utmost confidence in your command,” Slick said. “Still, if there’s anything you ever need to unload, I’m here.”

  “Alan, you’ve always been there for me.” Brazo placed a hand on Slick’s shoulder and patted it twice. “Don’t worry, what doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.”

  “This isn’t nineteen forty-five anymore, is it?” Slick asked.

  “My gut tells me no, as ridiculous as it sounds.”

  Slick exhaled slowly, and said, “Well, we got here somehow. So, there should be a way to get back.”

  “Let’s hope so. I know that storm had something to do with it.”

  “I’ve never seen a storm like that before,” Slick said.

  “There’re a lot of things here we’ve never seen. A storm like that might not be a rare event.”

  “Still, if another storm came up on us, would it return us to our time?”

  Brazo said, “If there is a God, then yes, I believe so.” He gazed sternly into Slick’s eyes. “I have to believe so.”

  ***

  Camp was set a couple of miles inland. Brazo chose the area because the jungle thinned out enough to give them mostly an unobstructed view several yards in any direction. There were still enough tree limbs and plant foliage to construct temporary shelters. Plus, a small stream in the area would provide fresh water once they ran out of their emergency supply.

  Traveling through dense jungle to get there had been arduous and had everyone’s nerves on end. Most of the time, the low foliage was so thick it was impossible to see what was three feet to any side. Two-legged lizards, he had to force his rational mind to accept as dinosaurs, would run when come upon, scaring everyone half to death. Brazo was surprised no one had pulled a gun and taken a shot. Other creatures, hidden but not far away, plodded through the jungle. His imagination ran wild with what terrifying meat eaters might charge and wreak havoc. Fortunately, none had.

  Reptile-like birds made strange noises and fled. Small pterosaurs took refuge high in trees. One urinated on a crewman behind him, missing Brazo by inches.

  Each life raft held emergency supplies enough for fifteen men. Nine rafts had made it to shore, so food and water at this time weren’t an issue. There were C ration biscuits, cans of chewing gum, candy, vitamins, Chocolate tablets, milk tablets and pemmican. Brazo had eaten pemmican before, and it was far from a food favorite. The concentrated mixture of fat and protein provided much-needed calories for survival, though.

  Other supplies included rope, hatchets, fishing line and hooks, cups, flare guns, a survival radio, and flashlights, of which none worked.

  There were enough M1 rifles for every crewman to have. Fortunately, in addition to the ammo each raft contained, two of the rafts loaded with extra ammo and grenades miraculously survived the journey.

  Brazo watched his men busily at their tasks. Each seemed to immerse themselves in their work to wall off any of their fears.

  A few men hacked low-lying tree branches and dragged them over to others. These men used hatchets to strip leaves and offshoots to form imperfect poles. The branches then went to be used as the framework for a teepee structure. From the looks of it, each shelter would be large enough to house five men comfortably. Long leaves similar to a banana plant’s foliage went on the outside for shielding.

  There was enough rope to secure the crown of the structure, but one crewman had found vine suitable as a replacement. Brazo admired the sailor’s efforts to conserve resources and believed the young man would have a bright future in the US Navy. If we make it back to our time again, he thought, reality a constant reminder of their strange situation.

  Brazo had assigned Jim Stone and another man to the survival radio. The radio wasn’t made for two-way transmission, only as an emergency beacon. It had a hand crank and only two tubes, of which were broken, but the spares had
been intact. Stone had it repaired quickly. As the crank was turned, a distress signal in Morse code automatically transmitted across the 500-kHz international distress frequency. For maximum range, a kit providing a balloon and a hydrogen generator allowed the antenna to be floated up as an aerial wire.

  “We’d have better results if those two sailors were churning ice cream,” Slick said; he had walked up while Brazo was lost in his thoughts.

  Brazo chuckled. “A dish of cold vanilla would be good right now.”

  “I’m a chocolate man myself.”

  “What gets me is that this radio only sends out a distress signal. There’s no way for us to know if anyone picks it up. We could do this for hours, days, weeks, and never know. Protocol demands we make the effort, but right now…right now I’m not sure how much Navy protocol applies.”

  “I think I know what you’re saying,” Slick said.

  “Our rules and regulations back in our time had specific purposes. But now some may need to be modified in order to preserve resources. I’ll let the men take turns cranking the radio for the next couple of hours. By then it’ll be getting close to dark. The shelters will be finished, and we’ll sit down for chow. You need to assign the men to guard duty, and then everyone needs to get as much rest as they can. We’ve had a trying day. The men are in an automatic mode right now. Work is keeping the demons at bay. But tonight, those demons will all come back as they lay their heads down. It’s a process that they…we all will have to go through. But once sleep comes, the healing process will continue. I want the men in the best shape possible.”

  “Understood, sir,” Slick said.

  “We’re used to life aboard a ship. Being out in the wild with sailors with a hodgepodge of skills has taken them out of their routine.” Brazo turned his gaze to the ground. “Wagner, Mitchell, Edwards, Perry, Philips, Harris… I can’t believe we lost every other commissioned officer,” his voice trailed. Lifting his head back up, he said, “We’ll pick leaders from the chiefs and petty officers after chow. We’re going to organize according to strengths. A structured command is imperative to our survival.”