The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [142]
“Pull the pin?”
The third man stared at him as though the lieutenant were completely insane.
“Yes! Pull the pin. Hold tight to the damn thing. It won’t hurt you, son, until you release the handle. You did this in training a thousand times.”
“No, sir, I didn’t. I’m a cook.”
The others looked at him, and Porter said in a hard whisper, “Don’t ever call me sir! What the hell are you doing up here?”
The cook glanced at the other two, who seemed as baffled as Porter.
“We couldn’t get the kitchen truck up close enough last night, the mud and all. Captain Lomaz told us to grab a rifle and come up here, try to help you out.”
Porter realized the man had no weapon at all.
“What rifle?”
He saw tears now, running down the man’s filthy face, could tell he was very young and very scared.
“Dropped it. Stepped on somebody … dead. Couldn’t see …”
“How the hell did you get up this far? Yeah, okay, shut up. War is hell. You got a forty-five?”
“You mean a pistol?”
Yablonski had said nothing, but rose up now in front of the man, knelt facing him, and Porter saw the fist go out, a hard punch across the younger man’s jaw. The cook fell to the side, his face splashing into the mud, an audible cry. Porter grabbed Yablonski by the shoulder, didn’t know what to say, and Yablonski turned to him.
“He’ll get us killed. Best we leave him here. He’s … injured.”
Yablonski didn’t wait for any more instructions, moved out past the lieutenant to the edge of the brushy perch, and Porter knew there was nothing he could do about any of this, not here. But, he thought, I’m still in charge of this lunatic. Porter moved up close beside him, said, “Wait for me to get out on the rocks. I’ll rush the cave opening. You come in right behind me. Use the grenades, toss ’em hard, back into the cave. If they haven’t killed us by then, we should wipe out anybody who’s still there.”
Yablonski looked at him, still no change in the furious glare.
“If you say so.”
“Right. One day you can play general, but not today.”
He glanced at Welty, who said, “I’m ready.”
Porter saw the calm on the redhead’s face, the opposite of Yablonski. Another day at the office. Strange little bastard.
Porter focused on the chorus of firing across the hill, unceasing, the M-1s and the thirty still peppering the Jap position above. Down below the thumping rhythm came from a half-dozen Japanese mortars, blasting the rocks and the men who sought cover there. The smoke was rising again, and Porter thought, good time to move. He took a long breath, let it out, leapt out of the cover, muddy boots slipping on the rock, the slope flattening out, a narrow ledge. He ran hard that way and above him, the hill came alive with fire, another Nambu gun, answered by fire from below, M-1s, the thirty, Marines in position to see the three-man attack. Smoke still seeped from the cave mouth, and he hesitated, a brief second, then heaved the grenade around the edge. The seconds passed, eternity, and the cave erupted in a billowing fountain of smoke and debris. He didn’t wait, rolled into the narrow opening, tried to hold his breath, impossible, the fumes choking him. There were loud voices farther back in the cave, and he clawed his way past the shattered remnants of the Nambu. The cave was no more than four feet across, and not much taller, but the smoke hid the depth. Yablonski was there now, pushed past him, the cave still a fog of dust, and Yablonski threw the grenade, then fired his M-1 in a quick burst, emptying the clip. All three men dropped flat, the blast much farther back, more dust flowing past them. Porter raised his head, stared at the smoke, saw now, the cave fell downward, a steep slope, said, “Grenade! Throw it hard!”
Welty obeyed, the grenade flying past Yablonski, bouncing, tumbling away, all three men collapsing again against the rocks. The blast came, much farther back, and now Yablonski threw another one, slow seconds, one more blast. Porter grabbed his leg, “Enough!”
Yablonski didn’t turn, kept his stare into the billowing smoke, slapped a clip into his M-1.
“Let’s go!