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By Root 1346 0

into the heights of the Kiyan Peninsula, and the delay from General Buckner in driving the American forces southward had been brief, much briefer than Ushijima had anticipated. The two army divisions now in the line, the Seventh and the Ninety-sixth, pressed from the east, allowing the battered Seventy-seventh to pull back for a rest and refit. In the center and right, the Marine First Division drove straight at the defensive positions, and with a more narrow front to contend with, the more compact Americans rolled into yet another slogging fight against high ground, a frontal assault that drove the casualty counts high on both sides. Once Oroku was secure, the Sixth Marines moved down the western coast, moving into position on the right flank of the First Division. But the losses on the Oroku Peninsula meant that all three of the Sixth’s regiments were so badly chewed up, they could not assist their brethren with the force everyone hoped for. Thus for the Sixth, the front for the last great assault was narrowed even more, the Marines once more shoving southward along the coast.

“Well, whatya know? Things must be worse than they’re telling us. They’re sending crack-ups back out here.”

Yablonski spoke from inside a foxhole, rose up, Adams staring at him with a weary fatigue, thought, some things never change.

“Yeah. They figure the guys up here ain’t pulling the load, so they’re scraping the barrel to find guys like me. You rather have a bunch of moron replacements?”

Mortensen had moved up behind him, said, “Speaking of … replacements. Over there, our new lieutenant, Gibson. Go report to him, let him know who you are, that you’re with me. You wanna fight so damn bad, show off the shotgun. Once we move out, you’ll be put right up front.”

Yablonski perked up, climbed from the foxhole, his mouth stuffed with a chocolate bar.

“You got a shotgun?” He caught the weapon in Mortensen’s hand as well, said, “Dammit! You didn’t bring more? Come on, Sarge, that’s the best damn weapon out here.”

Mortensen ignored him, and Yablonski saw Welty now, eyed the third piece.

“Oh, for God’s sake. That’s all it takes, haul your asses back to some cushy hospital and they give you a reward? Hell, I’m going AWOL first chance I get. You girls know how to use that thing? The sucker kicks, might hurt your shoulder, you know. You need a man to handle it for you?”

Mortensen turned, moved closer to Yablonski, towered over the man, said, “This girl knows exactly what to do with it, and if you get in my way, I’ll give you a lesson you won’t like. You hear me? Now shut the hell up! All of you! Let’s move out. We got a job to do.”

Adams followed the others, had no idea what the orders had been, where they were going. Down at the far end of a bare field a pair of jeeps were parked end to end, a half-dozen men gathered, the familiar scene, a map spread on one jeep’s hood. Captain Bennett was speaking to several other men, and Adams noticed one man with his hands on his hips, staring out at the Marines as they moved past. Beyond the jeeps were four big trucks, shirtless men unloading crates. Adams had seen those crates before, thought, grenades. I guess it’s time to load up. He looked again at the cluster of men around the jeep, the one man still watching the procession, the attitude of the man in charge. Adams slid closer to Welty, said, “Who’s that? You know?”

Welty whispered, “Hell, I guess you ain’t heard. Sometime during the fight over Sugar Loaf, Colonel Schneider got relieved by General Shepherd. Word came back that Schneider had kinda fallen apart up there, wasn’t doing the job. Scuttlebutt said that the big brass had to find somebody to blame for us taking so long to capture the place, and I guess Schneider didn’t have too many friends. That guy over there’s Colonel Roberts. He’s the regimental CO now. I hear he’s a pretty good joe.” Welty paused, both men joining the flow toward the trucks. “You saw a bunch of it, Clay, but sure as hell, it didn’t get much better after we pulled you out. A bunch of the brass never made it off the hill. The