The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [67]
Cho seemed not to notice the change of subject.
“I accept the shame we must endure by fighting from the defensive, sir. But I must admit that our men have shown the kind of spirit we must have, even as they bring shame upon their ancestors.”
Ushijima felt his patience slipping, but there were too many ears in the offices around him, and he would not reveal any anger to the staff, to the many secretaries who labored close to the map room. He held his breath for a short pause, fought to calm himself.
“There will be no shame for any soldier who kills his enemy. You would agree with that?”
“Oh, most definitely, sir! I should expect my own death to come while taking ten or a hundred of the enemy with me! I can think of no greater gift …”
“I would rather not have this army meet their ancestors just yet. Even the most junior private understands that if we are all dead, there is not much of a fight we can offer.”
Cho seemed unwilling to respond, and Ushijima knew the moment had come.
“You are dismissed, General. Thank you for your counsel. Your spirit is most valuable to this army, and I trust you will continue to inspire our men. Perhaps you should inspect the caves closer to the Naha airfields. That is a key position in our defenses … in our quest for victory. I will have no weakness there. Do you agree?”
Cho seemed to brighten.
“Sir! I will inspect the Naha caves. There will be no weakness! I will stand that ground myself, if the enemy requires it!”
Cho turned crisply, was gone, and Ushijima felt himself sagging, his usual reaction when Cho left the room. He glanced at the two officers, silent, respectful, and he thought of returning to the tea. He stared at the map once more, the thick chalk line across the island’s waist. The ground shook slightly beneath him, and he heard a distant rumble, an echo that drifted through the vast network of caves.
“Those are our guns, yes?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Excellent. I must take time to mention this to Colonel Yahara. He has done a magnificent job in building these positions.” He moved out into the corridor, thought, I must also apologize to him for ordering Cho to march out there and stare over his shoulder. But one officer’s pleasure often comes at another’s grief. Right now I have had enough grief for one day.
He looked into one of the smaller offices, an aide snapping to attention.
“Summon the guards to escort me to the opening of the primary cave.”
“Right away, sir!”
The man hurried out of the office, and Ushijima saw the others looking up at him, two women, backed by three other men, all of them sitting at small desks, papers stacked neatly in front of them. He knew they were dealing with the enormity of the supply problems, finding the means to move food, water, and medical assistance where it was most required. He felt a stab of guilt, knew that those in the north could not be reached at all. Two nights earlier they had attempted to launch small boats in the darkness, carrying food and ammunition northward along the east side of the island. But the Americans were vigilant, patrol boats with searchlights scouring every beach, every cove. Ushijima had not heard anything more from the small flotilla, had to assume that the Americans had destroyed them. So, those men in the north will fight with what they have.
The guards were there now, eight men, heavily armed, stiff at attention. He moved past them, knew they would allow him ten meters before they marched behind. It was the usual routine, ordered of course by General Cho. Ushijima accepted the added security grudgingly, thought it ridiculous, had yet to hear any reports of assassins lurking in the cave beneath the castle. But he had learned to save his energy for the battles that mattered.
To save power, the offices were dimly lit, and he moved past the doorways quickly, did not want anyone’s show of fealty. The thick mustiness of the deeper caves gave way now to fresher air. He glanced to one side, another, smaller corridor, and he changed course abruptly, knew the guards would adjust. Yes, I will