One of the Japanese figures in front of the trench was moving, wounded but still alive. The platoon medic, still miraculously alive despite the carnage in the trench, started to climb up to go out to him. Robert Capa grabbed his foot.
“Don’t do it. I saw the Japs try that in China.”
The medic was confused, unable to understand English or why he was being stopped from aiding the wounded. Capa realized the problem. He picked up a rifle from one of the dead. He worked the bolt, took careful aim and fired a single shot that hit the wounded man in the head. As he died, his hand relaxed. The hidden hand grenade rolled clear and exploded.
“The Jap just wanted to take you with him. Don’t ever go near a wounded Jap. Just shoot them in the head from a safe distance.”
Mongkut didn’t quite understand the words. He spoke a little German from their instructors and a little French; English was unknown to him. But, the message was quite clear and it appalled him. Up to then, the French and Thai troops had tended to each others’ wounded as if they were their own and gone out of their way to respect the sanctity of the Red Cross. We’d treated prisoners and the wounded with respect. Why were the Japanese so different?
His train of thought was interrupted by sounds from a road behind him. He glanced sideways and saw an armored vehicle moving into position. A small one, but it had a water-cooled machine gun mounted on its front; one that could be fired from behind armor. Mongkut recognized it, a CardenLloyd machine gun carrier. Men were riding on it; men clad in Thai jungle green but distinguished by the bright yellow scarves of cavalrymen. They quickly spread out along the trench, reinforcing the savagely depleted ranks of the 11th. Behind them, in the area shielded by the ridge, more trucks were pulling up. Men debussed and formed up. They had the brown scarves of combat engineers. At least a battalion of them.
The sound of bugles from in front of his position focussed his attention on the Japanese again. More were pouring out of the treeline below, their flags flying and bugles sounding. Mongkut couldn’t help feel that the cavalry had arrived in the nick of time. Perhaps the Hollywood westerns were right after all?
The numbers pouring out of the forested slope below were impressive. Mongkut believed there was at least a full regiment already moving up the slopes and more were continuing to pour out. It was obvious to him that, without the cavalry reinforcements, the new attack would have overwhelmed the remains of his own regiment.
The Second Regiment of the 11th Infantry had lost most of its heavy machine guns in the first Japanese assaults. First of First Cavalry more than made up for the loss. Their Browning guns, mounted behind armor, methodically swept across the Japanese lines, cutting down the men as they crossed the open ground. Once again, the Japanese mortar squads started to fire their bombs at the machine gun positions. Tthis time, they had little success. As they started to get the range, the machine gun carrier would back clear and move to another position. The little 50mm mortars used by the Japanese were effective against normal machine gun nests, but lacked the power to take down an armored vehicle.
Faced with unrelenting machine gun fire and the concentrated artillery of two infantry and a cavalry regiment, the attack bogged down. The Japanese troops were half way across no man’s land, the area between their bounce off positions in the treeline and their objective. They could get no further. The fire from the cavalry regiment, supported by what was left of the infantry, was too intense. The divisional artillery that should have supported them had been decimated by counter-battery fire and air attacks. They were securing positions in dips and hollows and trying to move forward in short bursts, covered by fire from the rest of the attacking force. That took time. There was no doubt, the momentum of the Japanese charge had been broken.
“Sergeant, get your men together and follow us.” A cavalry officer snapped out the order. The machine gun carriers started to move forward. They drew fire as they did so. The Japanese soldiers made targets of themselves in the process. The machine gun carriers brought under fire started to squeeze out long bursts at the Japanese positions, suppressing the incoming fire.
Mongkut watched the cavalrymen working with their machine gun carriers with envy. In the battles he had fought with the French, support from even lightly-armored vehicles would have made things so much easier. Each machine gun carrier would pin down the Japanese while the cavalrymen worked close enough to throw hand grenades into their positions. Slowly and methodically, the Japanese were crowded back from their advanced positions into their original lines.
“The Japanese have committed their second brigade to the assault on Ridge 70. Sending in our reserves there has meant that their attack has bogged down. The latest report is that the Cavalry are pushing them back. Now is the time, Your Highness.”
The Ambassador nodded. She looked at the map spread out before her. The Japanese were too skilled, too experienced to leave their flank hanging completely open. There had to be some troops covering the approaches from the high ground currently occupied by 3rd Regiment, 11th Infantry. She guessed it would be no more than a company; probably one from the divisional headquarters troops. All the regular infantry were either dead or committed to the battle on Ridge 70.
“Order the third regiment to advance on the flank of the Japanese positions along Ridge 73. One infantry battalion to detach and capture Hill 151, supported by a battalion of the engineers.”
She looked again at the map. Ridge 73 met Ridge 70 at a right angle. Hill 151 formed the pivot between the two. It was an odd position. Hill 151 was a critical piece of terrain, but only if both Ridge 70 and Ridge 73 were also held in strength. If those conditions were met, the Japanese would be trapped in a bowl; their rear blocked by the Mekong, their left flank anchored against another, smaller river that fed into the main waterway.
A further advance from Ridge 73 on their right flank would roll them up.
Japanese resistance was stiffening as the Thai troops approached the woodline north of Ridge 70. It wasn’t that the individual troops were fighting with greater determination. As far as Sergeant Mongkut could see, that wasn’t possible. To the best of his knowledge, not one Japanese soldier had surrendered. They’d stayed in their defensive positions and held their ground until they were killed.
He honestly couldn’t understand it. The instructors had taught their Thai students that positions should only be held until they were untenable. It was much more effective to abandon such positions and retake them later than to lose men in a hopeless defense. The Japanese obviously did not believe in that doctrine. Even their most hopeless positions had been held until every man in it was dead. There was no such thing as bypassing positions or maneuvering them out. The Japanese had to be dug out and killed, one by one.
“Sergeant, the engineers are moving in. We must cover them.” The cavalry lieutenant obviously knew what he was doing. Mongkut recognized that, but he wasn’t his lieutenant and he glanced around looking for some guidance.
“Lieutenant Somchai is gone, Sergeant. He never made it out of the trenches.” Corporal Pon was wounded, his face swollen and battered with one eye closed and his front teeth missing. Blood stained his jaws and the front of his uniform and his voice was hard to understand.