The Return of the Marines Trilogy

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  After taking over the island, the Chinese had gathered them all into the community center, posting several armed guards with them at all times. While the surviving soldiers were handcuffed, the civilians were not.

  Without working toilets, a large bucket that had been a plaster bucket in a previous life had been surrounded by a sheet to become a makeshift toilet for excrement, and two smaller buckets were for urine. But over two hundred people created a lot of body waste, and the smell could get pretty ripe. So the buckets had to be emptied regularly.

  Analiza lifted the bucket, careful to avoid spilling any on either the floor or her legs. The ammonia-smelling vapor made her eyes water, but she made her way to the main door. The soldier who had told her to empty the bucket opened the door for her.

  “Not close this time. You take it far, to the trees,” he told her, pointing out into the darkness.

  He gave her a flashlight, but she wasn’t sure how to hold it and the bucket at the same time as it took both hands to heft her load.

  Another soldier stood on guard outside the door, and he pointed to the trees as well. None of the soldiers could speak Tagalog or Visaya, as far as she could tell, although she realized that could be a bit of subterfuge. But several did speak English, a few surprisingly well. She nodded to the second soldier, then carefully took the three steps down to the ground.

  The bucket handle was digging into her hands, so she put it down for a moment, straightening back up and stretching. Four soldiers were in position around the two sides of the community center that she could see. Another group of half a dozen or so was sitting in front of the general store, seemingly relaxing and chatting. Several broke out into a laugh at something another must have said. She couldn’t see any of the rest, but she knew some must be over at the missile launcher they had erected down close to the runway. The starlight and waxing moon was bright enough to let her see what was around her, but the launcher was too far away for that.

  Bending back over, she lifted the bucket, splashing a bit over the side and onto her foot. She was tempted to just dump the rest right there on the sparse grass, but she didn’t know if the soldier was still watching her.

  Overall, the Chinese were treating them as well as could be expected, even letting the town doctor treat the wounded soldiers and Gracie Belvedere, who had somehow taken a round into her thigh during the fighting. But she didn’t want to openly defy any of them, giving them the excuse to erupt into the orgy of violence she still expected at any moment.

  The open area around the buildings seemed larger when carrying a full bucket of urine. She turned on the flashlight and held it while holding the bucket handle at the same time, sort of straddling the bucket while she duck-walked to the trees. The flashlight helped a bit, but she could not aim it right to where she needed it to see where she would be stepping. She was afraid she would step into a hole, spilling everything over her.

  She finally made it to the small, densely packed scrubs they called trees, not that they would deserve that title anywhere back home on Cebu. They were barely 10 feet high this close to town.

  Picking the bucket up, she half poured, half threw the contents into the brush. There was something odd about the sound of it though. She did not get the expected splashing sound of urine hitting the leaves both still in the bushes and as ground litter but rather a more subdued sound. She put down the bucket and lifted up the flashlight to look.

  At first she could not comprehend what she was seeing. The leaves looked weird, the pattern and color a bit off. And with urine soaking everything, there were dark spots. Then, like a camera coming into focus, her brain registered what she was seeing. A man was lying on the ground. A soldier man, dressed in soldier clothes, goggles over his eyes, and holding a rifle pointing right at her.

  Surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened. While his face was painted up, this man was not Chinese, nor was he Filipino. In a flash, she realized he had to be an American. The man slowly brought up a finger to his lips, indicating she needed to be quiet.

  “But, … what…?” she started before shutting her mouth.

  He had asked her to be quiet, and here she was talking? She quickly flipped off the flashlight, and he disappeared from her sight. She knew he was in that pool of darkness just a few feet from her, but she could see nothing.

  When she heard nothing else, she picked up her bucket and turned back. As she walked her pulse raced. She expected to hear shouts, shots, anything. But there was nothing.

  As she climbed back up the stairs and into the community center, she looked around, wishing she could tell someone, anyone what she had seen. But she was wary, not trusting one of the Chinese soldiers to not be able to understand one of the local languages. She felt like she had to do something, though.

  She brought back the empty bucket, and on a sudden whim, grabbed the other, even if it was only half full. She picked it up and began to take it outside. The guard looked at her with his eyebrows raised, but said nothing.

  As it was only half full, she could carry it across the grass with only one hand. She looked ahead, trying to see just where she had dumped the previous bucket. The tree line was basically featureless.

  She got to the trees, trying to perhaps smell the urine, but with the other bucket beside her, she wasn’t sure if she was smelling that or the previous load. She couldn’t tarry, though, so she bent over and slowly emptied the bucket on the ground.

  “There are 206 civilian prisoners in the community center. That’s the building that I came out of. There are 15 Filipino soldiers held prisoner there, too, but they are handcuffed. Five are hurt pretty bad. There are close to 60 Chinese soldiers here, all armed with rifles, some kind of small rocket launchers, and a missile launcher down by the runway. At the community center, there are about 15 of the soldiers. I don’t know where the rest are. God be with you,” she said in a measured, forced whisper.

  She was about to straighten up when a voice whispered out from about 5 yards to her right.

  “Did you say 60 soldiers? Six-zero? Not 20?”

  She paused, before answering back into the bushes, “Sixty. Six-zero. There were about 20 at first, but another 40 arrived yesterday.”

  She waited for another question, but when none came, she straightened back up and turned around.

  As she stepped off to return to the center, a voice whispered out, “Thank you, miss. And God be with you, too.”

  Chapter 15

  Pagasa Island

  1stLt Pete Van Slyke motioned to Sgt McNamara to come to him, then waited, feeling the slosh of cold urine soaking through his clothes. None had hit his face, thank goodness, but his utilities and flak jacket had gotten a pretty good soaking.

  He had watched the young Filipina make her way right to him, lugging the heavy bucket. They had observed a couple of other buckets being emptied before, but whether that was dishwater, food, or what, they couldn’t tell, and the buckets had been dumped much closer to the community center. The girl had been struggling, so the bucket had to have been heavy. She had a flashlight, but the beam was bouncing all over the place, not giving her a good path.

  She had kept on walking, getting closer and closer. Night vision goggles were great, but they washed out color and depth. Still, he could tell she was rather attractive and quite petite. Her long hair had kept falling in front of her face, but with two hands holding the bucket and flashlight, she couldn’t brush it back. He had a sudden urge to jump out and help her.

  She had walked right up to where he was lying. He hadn’t wanted to move, but he couldn’t help but to shrink back a bit. Then, she had picked up the bucket and threw it into the bushes, most landing right on him. It was piss.

  He had automatically raised his rifle, and when she had shone the flashlight on him, he had to will himself to remain calm. The chances were that she was not aligned with the Chinese. She was pretty obviously a Filipina civilian. So he had taken a deep breath, trying not to cough on the ammonia fumes, and had motione
d her to be quiet.

  She had looked startled and started to say something, but then she had gathered herself and walked back. Pete had hoped she would stay calm and quiet, but he had watched the community center closely for any sign of alarm.

  He had glanced over to his right where LCpl Maus was lying. Maus had a smirk visible under his goggles. Pete had to smile, too. He guessed it was pretty funny.

  When the girl had appeared again, with another bucket, Pete had perked back up. She had made it back almost to the same spot, then had whispered her message. That had taken him by surprise. There were 60 Chinese on the island, not 20?

  He had spotted about 14, and he had figured that there were a few down at the launcher, but where were the other 40? Cpl Holleran and LCpl Brugal were somewhere on the other side of the town, getting eyes on that side, but without comm, they had to make their way back before he would know what they had spotted.

  Sgt McNamara crept up to lay beside him.

  “Man, sir, that’s just not right,” he whispered, sniffing at him. “I wondered what she threw at you, and I had my suspicions, but wow!”

  “Yea, yea, I know. I know I’ll hear about it later, but now, we’ve got to get a message back to Capt Niimoto. That young lady told me there are 60 Chinese soldiers here, not 20.”

  “Sixty? Shit!” was the sergeant’s response.

  “I want you to send two men back to the insertion point and hold up the light board with ’60 enemy’ on it.”

  “Aye-aye, sir, but you came through this crap. It’s pretty thick, and it’ll take them awhile to get there. And if the sub’s watching, well, I hope they can relay the message.”

  “Look, we didn’t run across anyone in the bush. It doesn’t look like they are running patrols. Probably too secure with whatever cyber-warfare things they’ve got going. So tell them to stand up and move when they get out of earshot. Grab Pags. He’s got the light board. And send someone with him. Tell them to stop back on the other side of town and do what they deem best when the shit hits the fan.”

  “I’ll send Destafney with him,” Sgt McNamara whispered back, then started crawling away.

  Pete thought that was a good choice. Cpl Pagano was his comm NCO, a competent Marine in his own right, but Cpl Destafney was one of the top Marines in the platoon.

  Before they left the sub, one of the petty officers had given him a black metal board he had fabricated. After plugging in a keyboard, they could input letters or numbers, 15 characters in all, that lit up on the board. The petty officer assured them it was waterproof, and the boat’s XO told him that they would keep a periscope trained on the beach. At their high magnification, they should be able to see any messages.

  How they would be able to pass that message on to the MEU was another question. But Pete had to try. Kilo Company needed to know what they faced.

  Chapter 16

  Pagasa Island

  Sgt McNamara looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. Only a minute had passed since the last time he had checked. He grimaced, knowing he needed to calm down.

  He was nervous, though. With Destafney on the other side of the town (he hoped), there were only the five left from his team, Doc Swanson, and the lieutenant here. Their mission was not to take out the Chinese forces—that was the job of Kilo Company. Their mission was to protect the civilians while SSgt Tolbert’s team was to take out the missile battery. But with over 60 Chinese soldiers in a defensive posture, that would be a tougher nut to crack for Capt Niimoto.

  At least Holleran had located the bulk of the Chinese. He had gotten back only 30 minutes before and reported that the soldiers had seemed to be bedding down at what was designated as the mayor’s house on their map.

  While their mission was protecting the civilians, the lieutenant, still stinking of piss, had told him that given the opportunity, they would help even the odds somewhat for Kilo. Of course, that left them up shit creek without a paddle if things went south. So the more they did for Kilo, the faster Kilo could take back the island and keep the Chinese off of the platoon’s ass.

  He looked at his watch one more time. Crap! Only another minute gone.

  As the sun started making its presence known in the east, there had been a small degree of stirring around the town. One soldier had walked out towards the runway, smoking a cigarette. He stopped before reaching it, though, and stood there in the open area, scratching his balls with one hand and controlling the cigarette with the other. He wasn’t that far from Jay, so he could clearly see the soldier holding the butt with his thumb and forefinger, the other three fingers splayed up, in an OK-kind of position.

  Jay wasn’t sure why the assault wasn’t going to be done in the wee hours of the morning under the cover of darkness. It didn’t seem like a good idea to let the Chinese wake up and get their heads on straight before the attack.

  Jay was more nervous now than he had been in Somalia, even if that had been his first taste of combat. In Somalia, he had been a PFC, just following orders. He had been a bit scared, but in his heart, he really didn’t think he could actually die. Carrying Capt Svenson’s body back had made it sink home a bit, but he had been off the beach shortly after that.

  Now, as a sergeant, he felt the responsibility for his team. It wasn’t just Joe-grunt Jesus McNamara worrying about what he had to do, it was Recon Team Leader Jay McNamara worrying about what everyone was supposed to do. He was afraid of failure more than of personal injury.

  He looked at his watch again. At last! Within a minute, SSgt Tolbert would take out the missile battery. And if all went according to plan, about four minutes later, Kilo would land.

  Jay crossed himself, then took out the small wooden crucifix that hung around his neck and kissed it. He felt more than saw a stirring as the other Marines around him got ready for action.

  Even though he was expecting it, when he heard the firing open up not 400 meters away, he flinched. He couldn’t see the missile battery through the trees on the other side of the opening leading to the runway, but he could see the smoker who startled, swung around to look in the direction of the battery, then started running back. He hadn’t even brought his weapon with him.

  They withheld their fire as the soldier ran back into town. There was no use in firing on him and giving out their position just yet. The gunfire at the battery intensified for a moment, then there was an explosion. Smoke started to rise over the trees. First Team had connected.

  The guards at the community center ran to the south side of the building to look. This was poor tactics. If the Marines had wanted to attack the building, having the guards now all on one side left three sides undefended. Evidently another Chinese soldier saw that, too, because he came running up, yelling at the bunched-up guards. The guards split up, going back to their previous posts.

  The firing stopped. Jay wondered if that signaled success or if Tolbert’s team had been taken out. As Chinese soldiers rushed into view, a much larger blast echoed, and Jay could see a huge metal part from the battery rise up 100 or 150 feet, tumbling end over end. That pretty much sealed the deal. Green smoke puffed up to join the black billowing skyward—green was the color to signal the Ospreys. That done, SSgt Tolbert would be moving back towards the town, keeping in the trees, though, so they wouldn’t be able to move quickly.

  Jay strained to hear the sounds of the approaching Ospreys. They could not afford to have been close enough to be within range of the battery before it was taken out, but now, it was imperative that they land before the alerted Chinese could better prepare for them.

  About a dozen soldiers rushed from the direction of the mayor’s house and ran into the community center. Jay tensed up. If the Chinese blamed the Filipinos for some home-grown sabotage, then they would have to move quickly to keep them from suffering reprisals.

  Several of the soldiers came back out with one of the Filipino men and seemed to be questioning him. Jay sighted in on the soldier who looked like he was in charge, waiting to take the shot if nee
d be. But while the Filipino looked uncomfortable, he didn’t seem to be being threatened, merely questioned.

  Then he heard it. The Osprey was a big bird, but it could move quickly, so from the time that it could be heard until it arrived was generally somewhat short. Away from the town, back towards the north end of the island, the Osprey was rapidly making its approach.

  Jay couldn’t see it, and neither could the soldiers on the front porch to the community center, but they could all hear the plane. The plan was for the first plane to come in low and fast-rope its Marines right into the dense tropical scrub about 600 meters north of the town. This would keep the bird out of direct fire from anyone on the ground except for possibly from the far southern end of the island, but that would be a pretty long shot, and hopefully, SSgt Tolbert’s team would have eliminated that threat.

  This insertion should focus the Chinese attention towards the north when the next three birds would come in at wave height, essentially dropping their ramps right on the runway, doing a slow taxi while the Marines jumped out. With the Chinese attention towards the north and the three Ospreys using the trees along the north side of the runway as cover, hopefully, the Marines could debark and the Ospreys could get back into the air to provide supporting fire.

  One of the problems with the Osprey was that it was faster and had longer legs than anything else in the MEU. Cobra II’s could not provide air support, and with the fast movers grounded, the Ospreys had to provide their own support.

  There was a mad flurry of activity as officers or NCO’s started giving orders and the rush of Chinese soldiers started to organize into recognizable tactics. Jay was disappointed, though, when a good dozen or so soldiers who were in view oriented to the south, and among them was a heavy machine gun. Whoever was in charge there was not an idiot.