Dark Wing

by Richard Herman

  “The soldiers in the village are well-led and brave,” she continued. “You must not sacrifice your nine men there.”

  “I don’t plan on sacrificing them anywhere,” Kamigami said.

  For a moment there was silence. “Look to Pingnan. There, you will find ho wan” —good luck—”and the New China Guard will prosper.”

  “The New China Guard?” Kamigami asked.

  “That is the name of your army,” she replied, her voice soft and drowsy. He said nothing and listened as her breathing slowed and fell into the rhythmic comfort of sleep.

  The first light of morning spilled across the bed, waking Kamigami. He jerked awake, anxious that he was alone. In the next room, he could hear Jin Chu’s soft voice. He piled out of bed and dressed. When he entered the main room, he saw the backs of the captains gathered around the sand table and Jin Chu. He could hear her but didn’t understand the language she was speaking. He walked up behind them, careful not to interrupt. The model of the village had been wiped off the sand table and a new model created. It was the town of Pingnan.

  Jin Chu looked up and saw Kamigami’s angry face. He stared at her, afraid to speak. What could his half-trained youths do against the large contingent of PLA regulars at Pingnan? His anger grew, for no one could even tell him the PLA’s order of battle at Pingnan. She spoke a few words and the room emptied, leaving them alone.

  “What are you telling them?” he gritted.

  “There is ho wan at Pingnan,” she answered.

  “Who believes that?”

  “They do,” was her only answer. She hung her head and tears streaked her cheeks. He walked out of the room and onto the balcony. Sounds of Nanning coming to life in the early morning sunlight reached over the wall.

  Two days later, Kamigami was in the field on a training exercise when a Chinese colonel in a shiny new staff car appeared with a summons from Zou. He insisted that Kamigami accompany him without delay to Nanning. The colonel was proud of his staff car and told how it had been airlifted in the day before.

  They drove in silence to a large building in central Nanning. A newly mounted bronze plaque at the entrance announced “The Combined Headquarters of the Military Forces of the Republic of Southern China and the United States Military Assistance Advisory Group.” Underneath, smaller Chinese characters repeated the name. Two boys were washing the staff car before he reached the door.

  Very fancy, Kamigami thought as the colonel escorted him through the halls. Workers were putting the finishing touches on a major renovation and the building was full of freshly minted Chinese officers wearing the same field-gray uniform as the colonel. An equal number of American officers roamed the corridors. About half were U.S. Army and the rest U.S. Air Force. The Air Force officers were wearing the new class A blue uniforms that reminded Kamigami more of a bus driver than an officer. A small gold nameplate on the left breast pocket of each American was engraved with the same words as the bronze plaque outside.

  “General Kamigami,” the colonel announced as he opened the door to a luxurious conference room. He bowed Kamigami in with a click of his heels. Zou Rong was sitting at the head of an ornate table wearing his field marshal’s uniform. A map of western Guangxi Province was on an easel to his immediate left. Von Drexler and his staff were sitting on one side of the long table and their Chinese counterparts on the opposite side.

  “General Kamigami,” Von Drexler said, “we have been waiting for you.” There was a trace of irritation in his voice. “I had hoped you would have changed into a more appropriate uniform.”

  Kamigami stared at his muddy boots and wrinkled fatigues. How many of these turkeys have actually been in the field? he wondered. He knew he wasn’t a gifted speaker and would never make a staff officer. But he was equally certain that very few of these staff officers had ever broken a sweat leading men in combat.

  “We are discussing,” Zou Rong said, “the First Regiment. Is it ready to take its place at the head of the New China Guard?” Von Drexler’s head came up at the mention of the New China Guard. He had never heard that name before. Zou smiled at him. “That is the name I have chosen for my army,” he said.

  “Ah, yes,” Von Drexler said, recovering. “I had a different name in mind. Be that as it may, the First Regiment has received the lion’s share of logistical support.” He stood up and paced back and forth, expounding on the formation of the army now called the New China Guard. He had an intimate working knowledge of every part. “It is time,” Von Drexler concluded, “to discover if our expenditure of resources on the First Regiment has been warranted.”

  Von Drexler’s performance reminded Kamigami of the stories he had heard of General Douglas MacArthur, and he marveled at how all lines of authority in the New China Guard pyramided to Von Drexler—not Zou. The man is an organizational genius, Kamigami decided. And a raging egomaniac. “I am training for an attack against a forward outpost of the PLA,” Kamigami said.

  “Insignificant,” Von Drexler snorted. “You must think bigger, more strategically.”

  Kamigami’s eyes narrowed. Was Von Drexler baiting him? Forcing him to commit to a bigger operation than his men were ready for? What was Von Drexler trying to do? Guarantee failure? “We need to build on small successes,” Kamigami finally said.

  “Given the time and material you’re consuming,” Von Drexler said, “I had hoped for a bigger objective than a small hamlet.”

  Zou made a steeple with his fingers as he watched the exchange develop between the two men. He lightly tapped his fingertips together. “Kang Xun,” he said, “still commands the PLA. He will remind us that he is the King of Hell if we do not act quickly. The First Regiment will attack Pingnan.”

  Kamigami wanted to protest, but an inner voice warned him that this was not the place. Decisions were being made in private for reasons beyond his understanding. He needed time to think.

  “President Zou,” Von Drexler said, “may I ask why Pingnan?”

  “Ho wan, “Zou answered. Every head on the Chinese side of the table nodded in agreement. Zou rose and left the room. His staff stood and followed him out, leaving the Americans to themselves. The meeting was over.

  “What is this ho wan bullshit?” Von Drexler groused to his second in command, Colonel Charles Parker.

  “Sir,” Parker answered. “I believe ho wan is the Chinese belief in good luck.”

  “Does Zou make decisions based on luck?”

  “Sir,” Parker replied, “I can’t answer that.”

  Kamigami knew the answer. When Jin Chu spoke, her words traveled with lightning speed through Zou’s headquarters staff. Well, at least one-half of the staff, he corrected himself.

  The lantern hanging from the ceiling of the ancient barn burned brightly above the small group as they crouched around the large, hand-drawn chart. The hard rain drumming on the roof was muffled by the thick tiles but a shower of leaks rained down through the cracks. Only the chart and their weapons were protected. The paved barnyard outside the door was awash as sheets of water drained into a nearby stream that fed a raging torrent gushing toward their objective—Pingnan.

  “The rain,” Kamigami explained to his captains, “is the cover we need to move into position.” The men reacted to the confidence in his voice. It was a confidence born out of hard training and detailed intelligence. Jin Chu had been right in identifying Pingnan as the objective, not the smaller, well-fortified outpost he had originally planned to attack. The local PLA commander had reinforced the outpost with his best troops as a forward buffer between Pingnan and Zou’s forces farther to the west. It would be a tough nut to crack. The soldiers remaining in Pingnan were mostly Construction Corps and staff officers. But there was a problem—one tank had been seen in Pingnan.

  “There is no safety in numbers for the PLA,” Kamigami continued, “but you must move quickly.” They all had the attack plan memorized and he was giving the pregame pep talk. “Hide in the rain and the night.” He couldn’t contain what
he really felt. “But don’t let your men get carried away. We’ve got to get in and out quickly.” A few last words and the men rose to their feet and disappeared out the door and into the rainy night.

  Jin Chu stepped out of a dark corner. She surprised him by coming to him and letting him fold her in his arms. She was shaking, but not from the cold.

  Shadowy figures emerged out of the rain, following the gushing river that cascaded out of the hills and flowed through the town before it joined the Pearl. They moved along the base of the dike that contained the river as it passed the area where most of the Construction Corps was quartered. Not a single guard challenged them as they approached the dark concrete mass of a recently completed command post. The captain of Ox Company motioned a demolition team forward as the rest of his men moved into position.

  Within moments, the team had rigged demolition charges against the wall of the command post. At exactly 2:35 A.M., the captain of Ox Company made a chopping motion with his right hand and the command post erupted in a manmade hell of concrete, stone, gravel, and mud. The echo was still reverberating over the town when Ox Company rushed the breach in the command post wall.

  Behind them, the night erupted in booming thunder as more demolition charges exploded and mortar shells raked the Construction Corps and the supply dumps. The bark of submachine guns reached them as four companies attacked the main compound. Inside the command post, Ox Company systematically searched for communication code books and any high-ranking officers who might still be alive.

  Kamigami checked his watch and looked at the walls of his makeshift command post, trying to visualize what was happening in the town. He stepped outside, not able to remain in the barn. The sharp, cracklike echo of a heavy weapon reached him. It wasn’t his. Again, he glanced at his watch. They were six minutes into the attack and the enemy was responding. Another sharp crack was followed by the rattle of heavy submachine guns. Every instinct he possessed shouted TANKS! His operations officer called from the door of the barn that three tanks supported by infantry were counterattacking in town. Kamigami ran back inside.

  The three companies he had positioned in front of the nearby hamlet to keep the soldiers there from moving in relief of Pingnan radioed they were under heavy attack. He checked his watch. Seven minutes had elapsed since the first demolition had blown the command post, signaling the start of the attack. And it was all coming apart.

  Kamigami glanced at Jin Chu. She was huddled in a corner and his staff was looking at him for guidance. He fought down the urge to go see for himself what was happening and personally lead his men. His eyes narrowed into slits. “They were expecting an attack,” he said to himself. “It was all too easy. Damn, why didn’t I see it before. We were suckered in.” He was learning the hard way how Kang Xun fought. Now he had to save his regiment.

  Jin Chu appeared by his side and pointed at the map. Her finger was resting on a river two kilometers north of Pingnan. “There will be a bridge here,” she said.

  “There’s no bridge shown on the map,” he replied. “I wish there was.”

  “It’s there,” was all she said.

  The more he studied the map, the more sense it made. Many paths radiated from the point in a way that suggested a bridge. If it was there, his men could retreat to the north along the minor dikes that contained the rice paddies. The tanks would have to stay on one major dike and advance single file. Once his men were on the other side, they could blow the bridge. But if the bridge wasn’t there, they would be trapped and have to swim for their lives. How many of his men could swim? He didn’t know.

  Now, time was the only thing he had on his side. If he could get his men moving quickly enough, before the counterattack had time to fully form and gain momentum, they might be able to withdraw over the bridge. If it was there. He made his decision.

  First, he ordered the one company he had held in reserve to head for the bridge. “Tell Horse Company to hold the bridge at all costs and wire it for demolition.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the map and more reports came in. He ordered Dragon Company to disengage and head for the bridge. A pattern clicked into place and he sensed they could do it. His hopes soared when a squad from Horse Company reached the spot on the map and reported a sturdy footbridge spanned a raging torrent.

  “Do not sacrifice Ox Company,” Jin said.

  He felt his knees go weak. He had made a horrendous mistake. In his hurry and preoccupation, he had lost sight of the big picture and forgotten Ox Company. By withdrawing to the north, he had left them behind on the south side of town at the PLA’s command post. “Put me in radio contact with Ox Company,” he rasped.

  The radio/telephone operator spoke into his mike. “General Kamigami,” he said, “the commander of Ox Company was killed moments ago during the search of the command post.”

  Kamigami knew what he had to do. He issued a series of orders to his operations officer on when the remaining companies were to break off contact with the enemy and head for the bridge. “You can do it on the run,” he told the Chinese colonel. “You and the staff head for the bridge right now.” He wouldn’t leave anyone else behind.

  “Sir,” the colonel blurted, “aren’t you coming with us? Where will you be?”

  “With Ox Company,” Kamigami answered. He motioned for his personal radio/telephone operator and weapons bearer to follow him as he disappeared out the door.

  Kamigami found the lieutenant commanding Ox Company’s First Platoon outside the destroyed command post. “We have the code books,” the lieutenant told him, pride in every word. He pointed to two prisoners they had taken—a general and a colonel. Ox Company had done its job, now Kamigami had to do his.

  “We’re going to fight our way out of here,” he told the lieutenant. The lieutenant from Second Platoon joined them as he pointed out their route to the bridge. “We are going right through town,” Kamigami said. “They won’t be expecting that. Keep your men together, keep moving, and stay in contact.” He looked up at the rain, hoping it would continue. He pointed at the two captives. “Take them with us.” He picked up the body of the dead captain and snapped, “Go.” He felt much better now that he was in the thick of it and actually leading men in combat.

  The small size of Ox Company became an advantage as the men ran through the town. They hid in the rain and made good time. At a major intersection, Kamigami waved them to a halt as a lone T-59 main battle tank clanked past, headed for the Construction Corps compound. The turret swung onto the men, and for a fraction of a second, they froze. The First Platoon’s lieutenant stepped forward, made a hurried, pointed gesture in the direction of the command post and yelled for the tank to hurry. The tank’s diesel engine raced as the tank pivoted on its tracks and the turret traversed away from them. The tank disappeared down the street, headed for the command post they had destroyed. Kamigami couldn’t believe their good luck. He waved his men forward.

  They ran into the roadblock on the northern outskirts of town. The men pulled into the shadows to catch their breath while Kamigami and one of the lieutenants crept forward to reconnoiter the barrier. “We need to find another way around,” Kamigami said.

  “We can find a way,” the lieutenant said. “If we have time.”

  In the distance, they could hear the tank returning. “I think we’ve run out of time,” Kamigami replied. “Fortunately, they haven’t got the players sorted out,” he said, confusing the lieutenant. “Lots of confusion,” he explained as they retreated down the street toward the advancing tank. “Do you know how to kill a tank?” he asked. The lieutenant assured him he could do it. When they reached the men, Kamigami explained how they were going to go through the roadblock.

  Kamigami waited until the tank had passed by before he motioned Ox Company forward. The men moved out of the shadows just as the rain spit down in a sudden surge, momentarily reducing visibility to less than thirty feet. They fell in behind the tank and moved forward with it, exactly like supporting infantry, as it approa
ched the roadblock. The driving rain washed over the men, drenching them, turning them into vague and shadowy figures. The soldiers behind the barrier waved the tank forward.

  Kamigami’s luck held and they were through the barrier before the rain let up. A soldier realized what had happened and shouted a warning. A burst from a submachine gun cut him down.

  The lieutenant led three men up the back of the tank while Kamigami led a squad around to the left. The lieutenant from Second Platoon and his men cleared the right. The surprise was complete and the PLA guards broke and ran. The coaxial mounted machine gun on the tank swept the street, killing four of its own men. The lieutenant was on top of the tank and threw his poncho over the tank commander’s periscope and vision blocks. Another soldier slammed his helmet over the gunner’s sight and held it there while a third soldier dropped his poncho over the driver’s viewport. The tank was blind as its turret traversed, machine gun firing.

  The tank accelerated down the street as the tank commander popped his hatch to see what was going on. A mistake. The lieutenant was waiting and dropped a grenade down the hatch. The men slid off as a muffled boom echoed from the tank. The lieutenant had been true to his word—he knew how to kill a tank.

  Ox Company quickly reformed as Kamigami picked up the body of the captain, which had become his personal burden. He would not leave anyone behind. The men ran for the bridge, now in the open and unopposed.

  Kamigami was the last to cross the footbridge, still carrying the captain. He was as muddy, dirty, and tired as the rest of his men, but there was victory in his stride and bearing. The men cheered when he gave the order to blow the bridge. He totaled the peculiar balance sheet of combat with his operations officer as his regiment headed westward to safety. On the credit side: two high-ranking prisoners, captured code books, and a destroyed headquarters, supply base, and construction corps.

  On the debit side: nine killed, twenty-nine wounded, and one missing in action—Jin Chu.