• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 1524 0

the perfect logic of his own culture had been battered. He had been surprised by his own reaction to the sight and the astounding smell of the dead from his army, spread out on the hillsides close to the cave. The unmerciful heat of the Okinawan summer was working quickly, driving their smell inside, into every small room, every dismal corridor. No, I do not care about virgins and farmers and goat herds. But my army … no, there will be no asking forgiveness from the emperor for what has happened to us here. I will not stand up and explain that we have done our best, not when Tokyo has forsaken us. These men have done what I asked them to do. How can any one man expect so much loyalty …

“Sir. Forgive me.”

“One moment, Colonel.”

Ushijima turned away, retrieved a silk handkerchief from his pocket, dabbed at his eyes.

“I can come back later, sir.”

“No, come in, Colonel.”

Ushijima saw gloom on Yahara’s face, the same expression the man had worn for days now.

“You bear no responsibility for our defeat, Colonel.”

Yahara seemed puzzled by the comment, said, “Thank you, sir. I do not agree, but I bow to your authority. I have been speaking with many of the officers. Your message to them was received with much appreciation. They have communicated that to their men, whenever possible.”

Ushijima nodded.

“Thank you, Colonel.”

The message had gone out two days earlier, a broad offering of congratulations for the fighting spirit of his army. But there was one line that sat heavily inside him even now, the message that he knew some would dismiss.

Now we face the end.

“They are fighting, still?”

“Of course, sir. It is the only course. We have mobilized a force to rush the enemy positions closest to the headquarters.”

Ushijima felt a stab of alarm.

“How close is that?”

“That is why I am here, sir. In the east, the enemy has broken through our last defensive position. Reports have come that they are within a thousand meters, and we do not have the means to hold them back. Their tanks are … unstoppable.”

Ushijima felt a hint of a spark in Yahara’s voice, said, “And so, you have a plan?”

“I have assembled those troops who are positioned in proximity to this cave. It is a strong platoon force.” Yahara paused, and Ushijima caught the meaning.

“A single platoon?”

“Lieutenant Matsui has volunteered to advance into the village of Mabuni. All reports indicate that the enemy has occupied the village. Sir …” Yahara lowered his head. “They will be here very soon. We must make some effort to distract them, and possibly to drive them back.”

“With one platoon?”

The cave shook suddenly, a deafening blast. Yahara stumbled, dirt falling on him, and Cho was there, at the doorway, shouted, “They have struck the primary entrance. A direct hit!”

Cho moved back out into the narrow corridor, and Ushijima followed. There was only silence, little movement, most of Ushijima’s guard already sent to the front lines. One man rushed toward him, emerging from the smoke, choking, a brief stumble. He held a rifle, dirt crusted on his face, made an attempt to stand at attention.

“The cave opening … there is great fire.”

Ushijima put a hand on the man, calming him.

“Return there. Gather up the troops you can find. Fire means a shell, or a bomb. But the enemy troops might follow. Be alert!” He looked at Cho. “Probably from a ship, a lucky blow. But make sure the enemy troops are not coming at us on the cliffs below.”

Cho bowed crisply, moved away, the soldier following him. Yahara said, “Sir, please. We must get you to safety. If the enemy succeeds in breaching this cave from the land side, you and General Cho will be most vulnerable. The shaft must be sealed off from that direction. The main entrance that faces the sea … if you are correct, sir, and certainly you are, there is less danger there. The enemy will not come at us by those cliffs. We can defend that section with a minimal force.”

Yahara waited for a response, and Ushijima chewed on the word.

“A minimal force is all that remains, Colonel.”

“Then perhaps, sir, we can make our escape by