Bang, bang, bang, boom!
A sequence of rifles and machine guns opened fire, maybe a quarter kilometer away from them in the direction of the airstrip. Then they heard what sounded like a grenade, or maybe an RPG round going off. Seconds later, the loud sound of an air raid siren, which must have been the base alarm, blared into the midnight air, rousing everyone on the island and alerting to them danger.
“Crap! What happened?” thought Major Warden. Everyone in the team now quickly moved to the beach where they’d stowed their gear.
Just as they were about to bust through the jungle cover in a final dash, a single gunshot rang out, and their point man’s head exploded. His body dropped to the ground. Everyone instantly hit the dirt as a fusillade of bullets ripped through the air where they had just been. Several of the SAS men immediately returned fire, matching the barrage of hot lead that the enemy soldiers were spewing at them.
The Navy SEAL with the team realized that they couldn’t let themselves get pinned down and threw a fragmentation grenade at the enemy. Then he jumped up and charged right at the Chinese forces, firing his Fostech Origin 12 semiautomatic 12-gauge shotgun. As he screamed and rushed toward the enemy, one of the SAS troops jumped up and followed him forward, only to be cut down in a hail of bullets.
Major Warden saw the SEAL take several hits, but he continued charging. In seconds, he had jumped into whatever the enemy was using for cover and had summarily gunned them all down before collapsing lifeless in a heap, surrounded by other dead bodies. The rest of the SAS men ran as quickly as they could to get to the rendezvous point where they met up with one of the other teams. As the remaining team members grabbed their underwater gear, mortar rounds landed not far from their position.
The shouts of Chinese soldiers and more gunfire rang out all around them as the enemy closed in on them and boxed them in. At that moment, Major Warden knew what he needed to do. “We need a diversion to lead the enemy away from the beach so you all can get away,” he said. “I’m going to run a few hundred meters to the south, and then I’ll head into the water. I’ll swim over to the reef, and you guys can pick me up from there.”
The others in the team nodded, not wanting to challenge him on his logic, even though they all knew the likelihood of him meeting them at the reef was low. If nothing happened, they realized they would all probably die there.
“Let me blow the charges now, Major,” said the demolition expert. “That will at least cause them to turn away from us so you can have a chance to make a run for it.” He pulled the remote detonator from his pocket.
Warden nodded as he changed out his magazine, placing a fresh one in its place. A second later, the small island was rocked by two large explosions, which caused a massive fireball to appear in the night sky.
Major Warden made his break. He took off at breakneck speed, firing at the enemy as he ran, making a lot of noise. He also shouted in English and made it sound like his team was trying to coordinate an escape.
The loud ruckus had the desired effect, and the enemy shifted their fire toward Major Warden and began following him in hot pursuit. As the enemy ran after their squadron commander, the remaining members of the team moved quickly into the water and swam out to the break in the reef, where they’d stowed their underwater vehicle.
One of the team members stayed near the reef on the surface of the water, waiting with his scuba gear on to see if Major Warden was going to make it. As he listened to the activity on shore, he heard Warden’s rifle firing for a while; then a couple of explosions went off, and he no longer heard the major’s rifle fire. At that point, the SAS man knew their squadron commander had either been captured or killed, and it was time to make their way back to the sub. Major Warden had given his life so his team could get away and fight on another day.
It was still dark outside as the amphibious assault ships moved through the murky waters of the Java Sea, past Karimunjawa Island. In the distance, some fires were burning on the island. In the sky above them, Navy fighter jets whooshed by as they conducted their aerial dance of death with Chinese and Indonesia warplanes. On the flight decks of the troop transports, the roar of helicopters spinning up overshadowed the sounds of aerial combat.
The soldiers of Fourth Platoon, Alpha Company, Third Battalion, 81st Infantry Brigade lifted the eighty-six-pound packs onto their shoulders as they lined up to head to the flight deck. From there, they would board one of the waiting helicopters, which would whisk them away to the unknown, and hopefully not certain death.
Snapping his magazine pouch closed and then grabbing his pack, Lieutenant Slater placed the heavy load on and picked up his rifle. He found himself wondering how he landed in this situation again. He wasn’t supposed to go back to a line unit. Somehow, he had survived battle in Korea and capture by the Chinese, and now, here he was, doing it all over again in the Pacific.
Several months into Ian’s new training gig at Fort Lewis-McCord, Captain Wilkes had informed him that the battalion they’d been training was being sent to the South Pacific; the NCOs and officers that had been carrying out the training would be deploying with them as their permanent leadership. Before Ian could voice his objection, Wilkes handed him a pair of silver bars, telling him he was being promoted to first lieutenant and would be taking over command of Fourth Platoon, Alpha Company. Three weeks later, the entire battalion found themselves boarding a troop ship in Australia headed to the Java Sea.
“Lieutenant, you ready for this?” asked Captain Wilkes. He walked up to Ian with that naïve excitement a soldier has before he’s seen combat.
Slater shook his head. “I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he replied glumly. The two of them waited for the word to head out to the flight deck to board the helicopters.
Leaning in closer so only the two of them could be heard, Captain Wilkes said, “Look, Slater, I know you’re not pleased about being sent back into combat. I’d be fuming if I were in your shoes, too. You know I went to bat for you with the colonel to try and get you out of this deployment, right? Unfortunately, right now I need you to suck it up and do the best you can to keep your platoon alive. Can you do that for me?” Wilkes asked with a bit of concern and fear showing in his eyes.
Letting a deep breath out, Slater looked up and placed his hand on the captain's shoulder. “Sir, I may complain softly to myself or to you, but you have always been able to count on me. My platoon will do what’s necessary to accomplish our mission. That may mean a lot of them have to die — that’s a risk we all have to accept when we go into combat. Just make sure you’re ready yourself, to lead us. Don’t freeze up when the bullets fly, because trust me, every plan we’ve put together is going to get thrown out the window once the fighting starts,” he said.
Wilkes nodded, knowing Slater was right. When Ian had first shown up to his command, he hadn’t known what to make of the sergeant with a bad attitude. As he had gotten to know him, he had seen the attitude was more of an act, something that helped him deal with his fear and pain. Lieutenant Slater had taught him and the other officers and NCOs a lot about what it was like to be in combat, and how quickly things could get thoroughly bungled. The greatest asset they had in a battle was to be fearless and aggressive and remember that the other guy didn’t want to be there any more than they did.
“Thanks, Lieutenant. You help me guide the company through this crap storm we’re about to wade through, and I’ll get you through being an officer… deal?” Wilkes asked with a smile on his face as he stuck his hand out.