The Return of the Marines Trilogy

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  Gunny Dailey came up and interrupted, telling the skipper that the water and electricity had been turned back on. The Chinese captain’s eyes widened at that. Steptoe knew that the Filipinos had turned off both, telling the Chinese that the generator had been taken out in the initial Chinese assault.

  A wry smile came over the captain’s face as he took that in. It had to be a tough position for him. He had lost over half of his men in the fight, and the rest had been taken prisoner.

  The Marines had not gotten away unscathed, either. LCpl Kenny had only been the first to fall. Seven other Marines had been KIA with another 15 and one Navy corpsman wounded in the assault. With the other recon Marine who had been hit by friendly fire, that was 25 Marine and Navy casualties, more casualties in one single assault than in any attack back in Afghanistan and Iraq, maybe more than anything going back to Vietnam or even Korea.

  When the count had reached the skipper, it looked like someone had punched him in the gut. But to Steptoe, he was surprised the number had been so that low. When the Chinese had opened up with their automatic weapons, Steptoe had been sure that First Platoon would be mowed down as they rushed from the tree line into the built-up area. If it hadn’t been for the initial supporting fire coming from the Second Platoon from the south and fixing the Chinese attention in that direction, and then for the intense supporting fire throughout the assault, he was sure the casualties would have been even higher.

  He knew Tony, as he still privately thought of him, would be second-guessing himself, but the Chinese, even fighting from buildings, had taken even more casualties. And these were professional, competent soldiers, not jumped-up farmers with rifles.

  The Chinese captain was friendly, even talkative, but he wasn’t offering much of value. He didn’t seem too taken aback by his surrender, although he wasn’t too happy that three of his seriously wounded soldiers had been medivac’d back to the Makin Island along with 1stLt Ayers, Cpl Finnegan, and PFC Stuckey, all seriously wounded in the assault. He kept asking when his soldiers would be returned to him. When it seemed as if he had nothing more to say other than ask to see to his men, the skipper had him escorted back inside the community center where his surviving soldiers were being kept and having their wounds treated.

  “I think he’s pretty complacent for someone who just had his butt kicked,” First Sergeant Davidson growled as the Chinese captain left.

  “You’re right,” added the skipper. “I have the feeling that the Chinese have got something else up their sleeves. I don’t want to lose the Osprey we have here now for a recon, but as soon as the medivac bird or the other one returns and we have two on deck, I want one to do a thorough recon of the northern part of this island as well as the little islands surrounding us. I don’t know what the CO has for us now, and I won’t know until an Osprey gets back with our orders, but I want Second and Third to stay on full alert. First,” he directed at SSgt Willis, the new acting platoon commander, “keep assisting the Filipino civilians, but don’t let them wander off. They’re not our prisoners, but I don’t want a gaggle here until we’ve a better grasp of the situation.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” the bulky staff sergeant responded with a firm voice.

  SSgt Willis was a gym rat, a Harlem boy who had taken to the Marines like the proverbial duck to water. Steptoe had caught a few glimpses of him rallying his Marines when Lt Ayers had gone down, fearless in the heavy Chinese fire as he got his Marines into the buildings almost by his force of will alone.

  “Lt Van Slyke, I’d like you to take the higher buildings, maybe the government building there and the control tower and just keep an eye on things. Until our comm is back, it’ll be your Mark-one eyeballs that’ll be our early warning.

  “Other than that, we’ve already got our orders. Let’s get everyone fed and watered. When the Osprey gets back, we’ll know what battalion wants us to do, so until then, just keep on the alert.”

  “There was a chorus of ‘aye-aye’s’ as the platoon commanders and the XO moved off.

  “That means you there, lieutenant,” Steptoe couldn’t resist telling Lt Van Slyke before he was able to head off.

  “Huh?”

  “The skipper said ‘watered.’ That means you. You stink like, well, like piss. You need to get hosed down!”

  Van Slyke tried to glare as Steptoe burst into laughter, but he couldn’t keep it up and broke out into a laugh himself.

  “So you heard about that?” he asked.

  “Lieutenant, everybody’s heard about it.”

  “Oh, just fucking great! That’s all I need now,” he muttered as he strode away.

  Sgt Steptoe merely laughed again.

  Chapter 26

  Pagasa Island

  1st Lt Peter Van Slyke gave a quiet chuckle as he turned on the faucet. He had given Gunny Sloan the orders before excusing himself to find a hose. Stepchild giving him grief was a bit hard to take, especially when it was warranted. He’d have to get back at him later, but at least two-fold.

  It had taken the Filipino engineer literally only minutes to get the island’s generator going again, and with power, the pumps were working as well. But with the water flowing, the Filipino civilians had eagerly crowded all the available showers and faucets, forcing the pumps to labor to provide enough pressure for all the demanding thirsty and ripe-smelling people.

  With his Marines being positioned, enough time had elapsed that Pete had access to a faucet alone. He pulled off his helmet and body armor before turning the water over his head. He had actually gotten used to the smell of the urine, but once the water hit him, it was almost as if it was reconstituting it, bringing forth that harsh, ammonia smell.

  He pulled off his utilities top, letting the water splash against his body, letting it carry away not only the piss, but the grime, the sweat, the ants—everything that had taken a place on his skin. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the feeling.

  “Excuse me,” a soft voice broke through his reverie.

  He glanced in back of him to see a slender Filipina with huge doe eyes staring at him. Half naked, there was nothing to hide the scars that had ravaged his face. With his fellow Marines, he had gotten to the point that he rarely thought of the scars. But with women he became much more self-conscious.

  He reflexively jerked the hose he was holding, sending some water towards the girl, making her dance a step to the right to avoid getting wet.

  “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean that,” he stammered out.

  “Oh, don’t worry! You didn’t get me, but after the last few days, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t think I’ll ever complain about getting wet again.”

  “Oh…yeah, I guess so. I mean, I know what you mean, I guess.”

  They stood there looking at each other, water still flowing from the hose, making an arc as it fell to the ground.

  “So, um, can I help you?” he asked, trying to maneuver a bit so that the scarred side of his face was away from her.

  “Are you Lieutenant Slyke?” she asked.

  “Um, Lieutenant Van Slyke, yes.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought he said ‘Lieutenant Slyke.’ But it is ‘Van Slyke.’”

  “And you’re looking for me?” he asked her.

  “Oh, yes. This is so embarrassing. I just came to apologize, but now I’m embarrassed to say so.”

  Then it dawned on Pete. With her hair newly washed and brushed back, with clean clothes, and in the daylight, she looked different, but this was the same girl who had thrown the bucket of piss on him, the one who had then come back out and warned him.

  “Ah,” he exclaimed, “That was you!”

  “Yes, it was,” she said, obviously knowing that he now recognized her, “and I am so sorry!”

  “Sorry? For what?”

  She looked at him in surprise, as if trying to see if he was serious.

  “For throwing the pee on you. If I had seen you, I would never have done it!”

  Pete couldn’t help it, and he broke o
ut into a laugh. She looked at him like he was crazy.

  “That’s nothing, um, miss. I was so amazed when you came back out, when you gave me the information on the enemy. That was brave.”

  “But, but, I still, I mean … it’s an insult to do that, right?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Miss…?” he prompted.

  “Oh, sorry. I don’t know my manners. I’m Analiza Reyes. Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Van Slyke.”

  She held out her hand, which Pete took and solemnly shook. She spoke excellent English, but Pete liked the way her accent handled his name.

  “You can call me Pete. Can I call you Analiza?”

  Pete could swear she blushed as she looked down.

  “Of course, uh, Pete.”

  “Analiza, what you did was very brave, to risk yourself like that.”

  She said nothing, and he realized he was still holding her hand. He dropped it. Suddenly, he felt awkward.

  “Well, I’m glad we were able to meet in better conditions,” he said as he couldn’t come up with anything more astute or clever. “But I need to finish cleaning, then get back to my men.”

  “Oh, of course. Sorry to disturb you. I will leave you now,” she said hurriedly.

  “Oh, you didn’t disturb me. I’m glad to meet you, and I hope we have a chance to speak again.”

  “Of course. If you want. Well, I’ll let you finish your bath.”

  She immediately turned and strode off. Pete just stood there and watched her leave. She was petite, but he appreciated her figure as she walked. It was only as she went around the corner of the building and was out of sight that he realized that for a few moments, he had forgotten his scars and had actually spoken to her as guys normally spoke to girls.

  It was a nice feeling while it lasted, but then the awkwardness kicked in, and he knew it would never go anywhere anyway. He would be off the island soon, on to his next mission. And while she hadn’t seemed to focus on his face, he knew that was merely because she had been embarrassed about the bucket of piss. In another setting, she would be rather turned off by his appearance.

  It didn’t really bother him that much. He was used to it. He pulled the hose back and let the water hit his face. It was going to be good to feel clean again.

  Chapter 27

  Pagasa Island

  “And that’s basically it,” Major Cannon told the skipper. “You’re to hold your position here while the diplomats do what diplomats do. The word we’re getting from DoD is that by holding Thitu and Taiping, we’re giving our side a big advantage while they hit the Chinese at the UN and at the various embassies. It’s all above my pay grade. Yours too. We don’t want war, but we have to think that the Chinese don’t either.”

  “With all due respect sir, I’ve got nine Marines dead. I kinda call that war,” Capt Niimoto replied, bitterness evident in his voice.

  Sgt Steptoe knew the feeling. LCpl Kenny’s death had hit him pretty hard, too, more so now that he had a couple of hours to dwell on it.

  “No one’s going to deny that, captain. But in the big picture, war with China is something neither of us can afford. The world can’t afford it.

  “So now, just hold fast. You’re going to have one plane here on station at all times. We’ll have one on Taiping, too, and the other two will be working as couriers. When the Makin Island gets a little closer, we’ll be augmented with the helos, but until then, it’s our four Ospreys.”

  “What about Likas Island?” the skipper asked.

  “OK, I’m a little confused again. Likas Island is which one?” the major asked.

  “We call it West York Island, but the Filipinos call it Likas. Just like Thitu is called Pagasa Island by the Filipinos. The Filipinos had a small detachment on Likas-slash-West-York that the Chinese here told them they took.”

  “I think we’ve done what we were supposed to do, and the two big prizes here are in American hands. I’ll pass this back to the MEU, and I’m sure they’ll pass it up, but I doubt we’ll take any action on it. Let the Chinese hold it for now. We’ve put the diplomats in a position of power, so hopefully, all of this’ll be over soon. We’ll scold the Chinese, slap their wrists, then it’ll be business as usual.”

  “Don’t you think that sucks, sir?” Lt Hosseini, the XO asked.

  “Ours is not to reason why, there, lieutenant. But think of it this way. The Chinese are the biggest holder of American debt. The Americans are the biggest buyers of Chinese products. If we went to all-out war, think of the effects on not only our two economies, but the world’s economy. I’m not saying it doesn’t suck. I’m just being practical. If there’s any way to avoid war, then we’re going to avoid it. Kilo Company has done your duty, at a heavy price, to make sure we not only avoid war, but we do it in a way to our best advantage.”

  The company headquarters was silent as they all digested this. Steptoe knew the major was right, but that didn’t make it any more palatable.

  “What about the prisoners?” Capt Niimoto asked the major.

  “Well, as to that, I don’t know. I left you the Navy intel team,” he said, referring to the three sailors and one Marine who were now busy interviewing the prisoners, “but other than that, I guess it’s the status quo. Just keep them under wraps for now. I’ll pass your concerns to the MEU CO when I get back.

  “OK, if there’s nothing else, I need to take off. You’ve got Captain Nance here for the moment. You got anything else for me?”

  “Doc Ski wants two more Marines medivac’d, if you could. But no, other than that, that’s about it,” the skipper told him.

  “No problem,” was the reply. “Get them loaded up, and as soon as they’re aboard, I’m outa here.”

  They watched the major walk back to his Osprey. Steptoe knew he was only the messenger, but he still felt a degree of anger towards what he had said. Somehow, it seemed to diminish what they had sacrificed.

  “OK, gunny, let’s get the ammo and chow distributed,” the skipper ordered, pointing to the supply drop the major had brought with his flight. “And let the mayor or whatever you call him know I would like to see him.”

  Steptoe looked around as people bustled about, all with jobs to do. As the company comm chief, he felt a bit out of place. Comm was still out, and after re-laying the wire, there wasn’t much for him to do.

  As he thought about it, though, maybe that was a good thing. If he had nothing to do until the ambassadors and all the higher-ups could get all of this straightened out, all the better.

  Chapter 28

  Pagasa Island

  “Come on, eat up, Joselito,” Analiza said, holding another spoon of soup for the small boy to take in his mouth.

  He seemed to be interested in just about everything else other than eating. The big American plane getting ready to take off seemed to be particularly interesting to him.

  From the terror of the fighting only a couple of hours ago, things had calmed down quickly. The Americans had asked that they stick together, so communal dining had become the choice for a late lunch. It was almost a festival atmosphere despite the presence of the 25 or so Chinese prisoners being kept in one corner of the community center and guarded by four Americans and six of their recently freed Filipino soldiers. Another handful of Americans kept coming over and taking one of the Chinese soldiers over to the front office before returning him and getting another.

  “Analiza, there’s your boyfriend,” Satin remarked, eliciting a fit of giggles from the others.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested before looking up to catch sight of the young lieutenant walking up to the city offices.

  “How did you know who I was talking about, then?” Satin asked laughingly.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, thank you very much, so whoever you meant couldn’t have been mine,” she replied.

  She watched Lt Van Slyke, no, Pete, as he walked. He had an assured gait, full of confidence. Even from this distance, she could see the scar which marred his face.
It had taken her aback a bit when she had first seen it, but she thought it gave him character and hinted at experiences perhaps better left unmentioned. Her imagination couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten the scars, though.

  “Methinks she doth protest too much,” quoted Honey, causing her own share of giggles.

  “You know,” Satin went on, “I don’t know how you do it in Cebu, but in parts of the Philippines, throwing pee on a man is a proposal of marriage.”

  “Oh, that’s not true,” Analiza exclaimed as the others broke out into peals of laughter.

  “How do you know? I think they do that in the north of Luzon. I mean, they smoke their dead ancestors and leave them in caves. So who’s to say they don’t use pee as a marriage proposal?”

  By now, everyone was laughing, even the youngsters who might not quite have understood what the laughing was about but simply got caught up in the overall merriment.

  “Satin, you know that’s not true,” she said even if she was smiling as she said it.

  It was good to laugh. They had been under so much pressure, and friends had lost their lives. Now, with the arrival of the Americans, they felt the worst was over, and the simple act of laughter was really the best medicine.

  She realized that Satin and the others were teasing, and she didn’t mind. They were all friends. But she couldn’t help but to wonder as she watched Pete enter the building and disappear from view just what he was really like. She’d only had a few words with him, really, but still . . . .

  Chapter 29

 

  Pagasa Island

  Sgt Jay McNamara leaned back on one of the two rickety chairs, sipping at the warm coke. The remains of some fried chicken and rice were on the paper plate he put on the built-in wooden work station that fronted the windows of the control tower.