The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [33]
“You know how far it is to Tokyo Bay? We’d get bombed to hell before we got halfway there.”
“Formosa. I heard Formosa. Found it on a map.”
“Hell no. We’re going to China. Japs have been kicking ass, and they need us to take the ports back. Gotta be better than getting blown to hell trying to take Tokyo Bay.”
“I been bombed plenty of times, shelled and machine-gunned. All I know is that Tokyo Bay is in Japan, right? That’s close enough for me.”
“He’s right. Let’s hit ’em where it hurts. Get this thing over with.”
“I wrote my sis I was in Ulithi, and the censors sent it back to me. Top secret. How can a place nobody ever heard of be top secret?”
Adams let the talk flow past, adjusted himself to the hard surface under his rear end, tried to find a comfortable way to sit. He looked up at Welty, saw freckles and red hair, the white smile that never seemed to go away. Adams said, “Hey, Jack, where you think we’re heading?”
Welty shrugged.
“Someplace else. Can’t say I’ll miss our glorious week on Ulithi. A sand bar with palm trees. Not much to get excited about there. Rather go back to Guadalcanal.”
The attention turned from the argument over geography, one man catching Welty’s words.
“Hey, Red. I bet you loved all those island girls? They ain’t never seen anything like you. They thought your head was on fire.”
Welty shook his head, ignored the man, who returned to the manic discussion of their next mission. Adams still looked up at the red hair, said, “I don’t remember seeing too many girls on Ulithi. Guadalcanal, different story.”
“You can have ’em, Clay.” Welty tapped his shirt pocket. “Got all the gal I need right here. She’s back in Richmond writing me right now. Gotta write her again too, before we get all wrapped up in whatever we’re doing next. My parents aren’t too happy about it, but not much they can do about it now.”
Adams left that alone, knew Welty wouldn’t go into details about his parents at all. And he had seen the photo Welty kept in his pocket, a bright smile on a pretty blonde, every letter coming with that soft scent of some kind of perfume.
“Yeah, well, can’t argue that one. Agree with you though. These island dames don’t do a thing for me. Most of ’em got no teeth, or too much of everything else.”
Welty lay back in the bunk, his feet still dangling, and Adams closed his eyes, tried to avoid the arguments around him, thought, I’ve seen a few of these island girls that weren’t too damn ugly. A few. Not sure what I’d do if one of ’em pounced on me.
He had heard plenty from the combat veterans, warnings that the natives on any of these islands could be as dangerous as the enemy soldiers they helped to hide. The words had been drilled into them all, first by the company commander, Captain Bennett, then Sergeant Ferucci. Stay the hell away from the indigenous people. He still didn’t know exactly what indigenous meant, but the meaning was clear enough. Out here, anyone not a Marine could be looking to kill a Marine. Simple enough.
“Listen up!”
The voice came from the hatchway, and Adams saw Captain Bennett lean in through the oval opening, followed by the platoon commander, Lieutenant Porter. The men shifted across the tight space, gave the officers room to stand, and Bennett said, “All right, it’s time to let you in on the big secret. Though why anything needs to be so damn secret out here is a mystery to me. Any of you know where Okinawa is?”
There was a hum, some men suddenly aware that the secret wasn’t secret anymore.
“Didn’t think so. If you’ve heard jack about what the First went through on Iwo Jima, you know that place was nothing but a hole in the ocean, one tiny hot rock. Some of you found the same thing on Peleliu. Not much to look at, not much to fight over. But we fought over it anyway, because it was our job. This one’s different. A hell of a lot different. Okinawa isn’t some four-mile lava pile. It’s a damn country. Sixty miles from top to bottom,