The ground around Goto was churned by bullets as another plane swept by. He glanced skyward and saw the Americans who’d already struck turning and preparing for another attack while others strafed and bombed at will.
There was a deafening explosion as a bomb ripped through just behind him, sending pieces of vehicles and soldiers flying into the sky. Within moments, every truck in the column was burning and bodies lay everywhere. The Americans understood where the surviving Japanese were attempting to hide and strafed the ground to either side of the trucks. Goto fought back his fear as bullets impacted within a few feet of him, showering him with dirt.
Then it was over. The planes were gone. Almost disbelieving, Goto realized he was unhurt. Oh, a few bumps and scratches, but nothing serious. He stood, and several others did as well, but few had been as fortunate as he. A soldier stood by Goto. One of his arms had been ripped off, and he was bleeding profusely. He groped for assistance with his remaining arm, and Goto pushed him away. The soldier fell over a legless corpse and didn’t get up.
“Where’s Kashii?” Goto yelled. At first, no one seemed to notice or care. Then a soldier gestured, and Goto lurched over on legs unsteady from fear. Kashii lay just outside his truck. He had caught several bullets in the chest, which was a bloody mass of red meat and white bone.
“What do we do, Lieutenant?” It was a young corporal, and Goto realized he was now in command of the decimated column. He doubted he had one in five unhurt, and even many of those were in shock from the suddenness of the assault. The corporal who’d asked the question was literally shaking with shock and fear. These were garrison soldiers, not shock troops, and they’d never been subjected to anything like what had happened to them.
“Gather everyone,” Goto said. “We will return to Hilo.” He did not think that the code of bushido required him to die this day. Japanese forces were permitted to retreat so they could fight again, and that was what he planned to do.
Goto noticed people moving through the rear of the shattered column. What the hell? he wondered. Then he realized. They were Hawaiians from the nearby villages and camps. Some had guns, and they methodically shot any Japanese who was standing. He watched in shock as axes and clubs were brought down on the wounded Japanese, while other Hawaiians picked up fallen rifles and turned them on the men who’d been their tormentors just a short while ago.
Goto turned to flee. He had gotten only a few steps when he was overwhelmed by a half dozen Hawaiians who pinned him to the ground. They relieved him of his sword and pistol and stripped him naked. He heard a voice and tried to turn his head. He recognized a woman he’d interrogated the day before. There was a bandage where he’d slashed one of her eyes after raping her.
The woman said something, and the men around her yanked Goto to his feet. The woman approached him and spat in his face. A man grabbed Goto’s face as others steadied him with his arms held outright. They tied a rope around each of his arms, and he wondered why. The ropes were so tight he was in pain.
Then he realized. He screamed as they hacked off his hands with his own sword. The ropes would function as tourniquets and keep him from bleeding to death. Numb with pain and fear, he watched as a Hawaiian tied a string at the base of his penis and scrotum.
The woman appeared in front of him with a knife. With one smooth motion, she sliced off his testicles, and his screams reached an even higher crescendo.
Goto’s body was a sea of red agony, and he could barely comprehend what was happening to him. When would they kill him? A rope was looped around his neck, and he thought they were going to hang him. A cloth bag was put over his head, and he heard laughter as someone jerked on the rope, pulling him forward.
After a few halting, lurching steps, he realized he wasn’t going to die, at least not yet.
Will Hawkins looked in disbelief at the carnage in the valley, the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten as a result of the sudden change in events. Only a handful of Japanese remained, and they were being run to ground. “Colonel Jake, did you know that was going to happen?”
“Not entirely,” Jake said. “At least I wasn’t confident enough that I thought I should tell you.”
“Uh, you gonna tell me now?”
“Sure. Magruder landed on Maui with two other planes. All three were nearly out of fuel and had no bombs or ammo. Gustafson siphoned what remained out of the other two and put it into Magruder’s, along with some stuff they found at a farmer’s personal strip. Magruder contacted our carriers by radio, and he flew out to them with enough fuel to land.
“It was a helluva thing to do, because Magruder really wasn’t certain where the carriers were. He had one chance to find them and one pass to land; otherwise, he’d have been lucky to be picked up by anyone anytime. Anyhow, we’d agreed by radio that I’d pull us back to this hill and that Magruder would lead planes to it. The whole thing was a little shaky. After all, Magruder’d never flown over here and only hoped he could find this hill among all the others. He had coordinates and all that, but this is still a small hill on a big island full of small hills.”
“Shit,” Hawkins said softly. “Shaky, my ass. What if he didn’t find the carriers or couldn’t land? What if he couldn’t convince the carrier jocks to send the cavalry? Then what if he couldn’t find this fucking hill? I’m glad you didn’t tell me. I would’ve said you were crazy.”
Jake smiled. “A fella’s gotta take chances sometimes, although it sure helped when the Jap patrols stuck with the trucks. They stood out like a sore thumb, I’ll bet.” And it had worked, he thought. “Of course, I had no idea the local population would rise up like they have. That’s frosting on the cake.”
“What do we do now?” Hawkins asked.
Behind the hill, the surge of Hawaiian civilians was routing the small patrol that had been waiting for Jake and his handful of men to be chased back to them. Jake wondered how the Japs liked being the hunted instead of the hunters.
The woman with the bandaged eye approached him. Now what the hell did she want?
The woman was named Lani, and she was of native Hawaiian ancestry. She told Jake that Kashii and Goto’s thugs had taken a number of prisoners, including her husband and brother. They were now lodged in Hilo, in a bay-front store that served as Kashii’s headquarters. Hilo was not an incorporated city, but it was the county seat. It had government buildings, including a federal building, but Kashii had avoided using them.
“We saved you, now you save them,” she said simply. She admitted she had no idea if her family was alive, but she had to rescue them if she possibly could. How to do it was the only question.
“We had a choice,” she added. “We could try to save our people while Kashii and Goto were out chasing you, but if we did, they would have returned and destroyed this little force, along with our families and others in and around Hilo. We decided to help you by ambushing Kashii and Goto and then imploring you to help us. I have to admit, we had no idea there were so few of you. Still, you must help us. You owe us.”
“Agreed,” Jake said, and others nodded.
Jake did not like planning operations on the fly, but this was an exception. To the best of Lani’s knowledge, no Japanese soldiers had escaped her people’s attack; thus, whatever garrison remained in Hilo was ignorant of events.
The American planes had done almost too good a job on the Japanese vehicles. Only three of the trucks were drivable. On the plus side, they were able to find a number of Japanese uniforms.
Jake’s ribs had been taped but still hurt like the devil. Hawkins would come along, but his broken leg needed expert care. He would lie prone on the back of a truck, although he insisted he could move with crutches.