With the Old Breed_ At Peleliu and Okinawa - E. B. Sledge [158]
“No Nippon,” she said slowly, shaking her head as she looked up at me with a weary expression that bespoke of much physical pain. She then opened her ragged blue kimono and pointed to a wound in the lower left side of her abdomen. It was an old wound, probably caused by shell or bomb fragments. It was an awful sight. A large area around the scabbed-over gash was discolored and terribly infected with gangrene. I gasped in dismay. I guessed that such a severe infection in the abdominal region was surely fatal.
The old woman closed her kimono. She reached up gently, took the muzzle of my Tommy, and slowly moved it so as to direct it between her eyes. She then released the weapon's barrel and motioned vigorously for me to pull the trigger. Oh no, I thought, this old soul is in such agony she actually wants me to put her out of her misery. I lifted my Tommy, slung it over my shoulder, shook my head, and said “no” to her. Then I stepped back and yelled for a corpsman.
“What's up, Sledgehammer?”
“There's an old gook woman in there that's been hit in the side real bad.”
“I'll see what I can do for her,” he said as we met about fifty yards from the hut.
At that moment, a shot rang out from the hut. I spun around. The corpsman and I went down into a crouching position.
“That was an M1,” I said.
“Sure was. What the hell?” he said.
Just then a Marine emerged nonchalantly from the hut, checking the safety on his rifle. I knew the man well. He was attached at that time to company headquarters. I called to him by name and said, “Was there a Nip in that hut? I just checked it out.”
“No,” he said as we approached him, “just an old gook woman who wanted me to put her out of her misery; so I obliged her!”
The doc and I stared at each other, and then at the Marine. That quiet, neat, mild-mannered young man just wasn't the type to kill a civilian in cold blood.
When I saw the crumpled form under the faded blue kimono in the hut door, I blew up. “You dumb bastard! She tried to get me to shoot her, and I called Doc to come help her.”
The executioner looked at me with a puzzled expression.
“You sonofabitch,” I yelled. “If you want to shoot at somebody so damn bad, why don't you trade places with a BAR-man or a machine gunner and get outa that damn CP and shoot at Nips? They shoot back!”
He stammered apologies, and Doc cursed him.
I said, “We're supposed to kill Nips, not old women!”
The executioner's face flushed. An NCO came up and asked what happened. Doc and I told him. The NCO glared and said, “You dirty bastard.”
Somebody yelled, “Let's go Sledgehammer, we're movin’ out.”“You guys shove off, I'll take care of this,” said the NCO to Doc and me. We ran off to catch up with the mortar section while the NCO continued to chew out the executioner. I never knew whether or not he was disciplined for his cold-blooded act.
On the right of the 1st Marine Division, the 7th Marines extended its lines to the west coast and sealed off the Oroku Peninsula. Then the 6th Marine Division came in and fought a ten-day battle of attrition to annihilate the Japanese defenders there. The division killed nearly 5,000 Japanese, taking only 200 prisoners, at a loss of 1,608 Marines killed and wounded.
On 4 June, the 1st Marines relieved the 5th Marines as the assault regiment for the 1st Marine Division's drive to the south. The 5th Marines went into reserve for III Marine Amphibious Force, a stance that still involved much danger for its weary Marines because of a mission to aggressively patrol and mop