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The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [36]

By Root 1384 0
there was something else, unspoken, no one offering those mindless cheers. Too many of these men were veterans, and those men knew that every assault brought casualties. There were glances, the curious, the angry, morbid examination of the men around them. Who would not come back? Who would do the job … who would fail? Adams saw men looking at him, brief, cold stares. He knew the meaning, looked down, his hands pulled tight, arms crossed, holding down the thunder in his own heart. They’re wondering about me, he thought. Just like the damn replacements. When we get out there … cross that beach … what’ll I do? He could not answer his own question, felt the shiver again. He glanced toward Ferucci, the sergeant leaning back in his bunk, staring away into some other place. Follow him. He knows … he’s done it before. Just kill the damn Japs. That’s all you have to think about. Adams avoided the others, the low talk, the probing eyes. Men close to him were looking down; he knew that some of them had done this before. They’re as scared as I am, he thought. Scared of what? Being a Marine? He chased that away from his mind. Dammit, Marines aren’t scared. We’re the toughest bastards in the world. He shivered again, his arms tightening into a harder grip across his chest. He looked at his boots, his boondockers, clean, the soles barely worn. New. Not for long. He took a breath, loosened the grip against his chest, looked up toward Welty’s bunk. The redhead had put on his wire-rimmed eyeglasses, was sitting upright, staring silently at a photo in his hand.

4. USHIJIMA


BENEATH SHURI CASTLE, OKINAWA

MARCH 30, 1945

The barrage from the warships had slowed, then finally stopped completely, thick clouds of smoke drifting up from the coastline, all through the hills. The artillery fire had lasted for more than an hour, and he knew it would come again, like the perfect chime of a precise clock. There would only be a short time for his men to emerge from the cover of the caves. His officers knew it as well, and the orders had been given, the soldiers scrambling out over the hillside, some retrieving wounded, others doing what they could to secure and strengthen the camouflage that blanketed most of the troop positions closest to him. For more than a week now the barrages of fire from the great warships had been a magnificent spectacle, aimed at every part of the island, streaks of red and white light, bursts of fire, thunderous shaking that sent dust even through the deepest caves. But the caves were secure, no cracks in the concrete, no sign of weakness in the rocks that surrounded him. He knew that several times the Americans had been lucky, direct hits, a single shell coming down straight into a cave. The results were catastrophic for the men inside, entire squads blasted to bloody shreds, sometimes nothing left at all. But those were rare, and all over the island his men kept their positions, low in the earth, far back in the natural and man-made caverns that ran beneath so much of the island like some great honeycomb.

He had no fear for himself, knew that no matter how much artillery came down around him, or burst into the enormous walls of the castle above him, there was almost no danger. The cave behind him wound deeply into the hillside, a labyrinth of offices and living space for hundreds of his troops. No one had yet seen a bomb or a shell from the great warships that could penetrate a mountain. And yet, he thought, they continue to try. Can they truly believe that we would spread ourselves out on open ground, that I would position my army in shallow trenches, perfect targets for their fire? They must believe it, or they would not continue this … absurdity. Day after day the fire begins precisely on schedule, as though we will have forgotten the shelling that came the day before. The Americans are an amazing people, possessed of wealth and resources and utterly without wisdom. He stepped forward to the very edge of the cave’s opening, watched the quick work of the men down below, most of them already scampering back

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