After prolonged silence, Homma thought he might have lost contact. Finally, General Yokoyama's voice came through faintly but distinctly.
"My dear General Homma. I deeply regret to inform you that the attacks are commencing as we speak and there is no way I can stop them. The soldiers are marching and the planes are now in the air. The arrow has been fired from the bow. It cannot be recalled."
Chapter 80
Collins and Hanks narrowly avoided being shot by their own men as they crawled into the trenches on Round Top. Moments later, two more men from his outposts clambered in, their faces a mixture of relief and terror. No more followed, and it was reluctantly concluded that the four missing men were most likely dead.
"What did anybody see?" Morrell asked. "How many Japs are there?" The men, Collins included, shook their heads.
"We really didn't see much at all," Collins said. "Just a lot of commotion and noise." Behind and below them, the infernal shrieks continued, further emphasizing that no more Americans would be returning from the outposts around Mt. Ugly. "Sorry, Lieutenant, but we weren't in any position to hang around and count noses."
"They're going around us," Morrell muttered. "Open fire into the valley."
Gunfire rang out and rippled down the hill in all directions. It was a joy and a relief to be able to shoot. There was plenty of ammunition, and Morrell had earlier decided there was no point in saving it. Indirect fire against an unseen enemy was nowhere near as effective as shooting a target that was visible, but it would cause some casualties and maybe disrupt the Japs' plans. Similar firing could be heard from other American positions.
"Why aren't they coming?" someone yelled, and Morrell had to wonder as well. According to Collins, they'd been just a little behind him as he'd run for safety.
A Jap mortar shell exploded in their perimeter, followed by others. While they lacked heavy artillery, the Japanese had a large number of the extremely portable 50mm mortars and shells and were using them to effect.
Paul yelled for the company's own 60mm mortars to return fire and ordered the howitzers to open up as well. As the mortars responded, the sergeant in charge of the two pack howitzers told him the Japs were too close for him to shoot at. Effectively, they were under the barrels of his guns.
"They're hugging us," Morrell growled, and Sergeant Mackensen agreed. "Even if the weather breaks, nobody can help us."
Morrell tried division artillery and was told they were busy with other attacks, which he could now hear in the distance, and that the Japs were too close to his position to risk shelling blindly into the gloom and mist.
A plane hummed low overhead. It missed the hill by only a few feet. "Kamikaze!" someone yelled. Seconds later, there was a flash and the sound of an explosion behind them. The kamikaze had missed Round Top but had hit the hill behind them.
"Sonofabitch, that was close!" snapped Collins.
"Get to your men," Morrell ordered. Collins was in charge of a score of men Paul had designated their reserve. They were to reinforce any area where the Japs broke through.
Otherwise, the defense of Round Top consisted of two platoons that faced the front and curved along the sides of the hill. There they met the third platoon, which faced rearward and had the greatest length of ground to cover. Putting most of his defenders toward the front had seemed like the best idea, but now with the Japs hugging the hill and circling behind it, Paul was no longer so certain.
A group of men ran through the rear of the defenses, and Morrell recognized some of them from Ruger's headquarters and heavy-weapons companies. Then he remembered that theirs was the hill behind Round Top, the one the kamikaze had hit.
"Where's the major?" he asked, and was told that no one knew. A Jap plane had landed smack on the command bunker, then the hill had been overrun. The Japs were solidly behind Round Top. At least a couple of dozen men had made it through to him and were welcome reinforcements. Poor Ruger, he thought, then quashed it. If the major was dead, Paul would mourn for him some other time.
"Another plane!" came the cry. This time it was even lower than the last.
"Get down!" Paul yelled as it appeared through the mist. This one was not going to miss Round Top. The explosion of the crash was deafening, and the shock wave passed over him like a hot, sharp wind. Gasoline flamed into a smoky pyre right where his front-facing second platoon met the rear-facing third. Men were down and the trench was destroyed. Now he understood why the Japs hadn't launched their attack. They had been waiting for the kamikazes to soften up the hilltop fort. In the absence of artillery, the Japs were using suicide pilots.
They had succeeded in breaching his defenses. Fully a third of his defensive positions were destroyed, and the main Jap attack hadn't even begun.
Chapter 81
Lt. Gen. Matthew Ridgway didn't like dealing with the press. While some of the reporters were pretty good joes, others were nothing but sharks who'd sell their mothers for a story. That is, he smiled inwardly, if they'd had mothers. There were exceptions among Ridgway's compatriots, of course. Patton, for instance, had swaggered and postured for the press, while the late MacArthur always seemed to be onstage and never at a loss for a quote.
The press was, however, safely muzzled in this war and, with few exceptions, understood the need for it and cooperated with the wartime censorship regulations. After all, who wanted to give out military secrets that would cause the deaths of American boys? For that reason, and because the journalists in Bradley's press pool were men of integrity, Ridgway felt fairly comfortable with the men gathered in his office. Long after the war they could write all the books they wanted and analyze to their hearts' content all the decisions others made. In the meantime, every word they wrote was subject to review and removal.
It was a fairly eclectic and highly qualified pool of talent. Wilfred Burchett represented the London Daily Express, Theodore White was employed by Time-Life, Hanson Baldwin was from The New York Times, and Webley Edwards was a radio correspondent from CBS.
"Gentlemen," Ridgway began, gesturing toward a large map of Kyushu that hung on the wall behind him, "let me give you a quick overview. The Japs have launched major attacks against our positions, primarily along our right flank. This is the area covered by the I Corps, which consists of the 25th, 41st, and 53rd Infantry Divisions. At this time there are no serious attacks against either the marines on our left flank or XI Corps in the middle. It appears that the Japs have concentrated their thrusts against I Corps only, and we first thought their goal was a penetration down to Ariake Bay."
"Can they make it?" Burchett asked.
"Not a chance. They are about seventy miles from the bay and we'll stop them well before they get anywhere near it. We are in the process of moving two divisions from IX Corps, the 81st and 98th infantry, into blocking positions behind I Corps. IX Corps had rotated back into reserve and is close enough to help out. No, gentlemen, their goal is not Ariake Bay. The Japanese are just squandering lives."
"Ours included, I presume," Baldwin commented.
Ridgway winced. "Absolutely."
White raised his hand. "I know it's certainly simpler on a map than it is in reality, but can any of the other units, such as the marines, attack north and swing behind the Japs?"