They snake-crawled as quickly as possible toward a large rock, bullets smashing into the ground centimetres from their bodies. Scuttling behind the rock in a cloud of dust and heavy breathing, Higgins and three others huddled. Not far away Jones, a young guy from Lennox Head, lay face down and still — no time to worry about him now.
‘Fuck, we have to get over there and flank the objective or the major will be cut down,’ Higgins shouted to the others.
Higgins tapped his throat mic to connect to Major Cowell. ‘Major, we are under enemy fire, pinned down, cannot get to you!’ he yelled above the sound of the firing.
‘Affirmative, Corporal, do your best to get over here. We’re pressing forward!’ came the major’s voice through the earpiece.
‘Corporal, what about Jonesie?’ asked Davis.
‘No time, he’s gone, and we will be too if we don’t get over to the major,’ replied Higgins. ‘Grenades? How many grenades do you have?’
‘Three,’ ‘None,’ ‘Three,’ came the replies.
‘Davis, you and me split the grenades. Jameson, Cahill, you cover us.’
Turning to Davis, Higgins continued. ‘You break left — I’m going right. At the count of five, we throw. And make them count.’
‘Let’s do it!’ said Davis, composing himself.
Higgins and Davis took two grenades each and pulled the pins, clasping them tightly in each hand, ready to throw.
‘Ready?’ asked Higgins, and without waiting for a reply, barked ‘Now!’
Running out from behind the rock and into the enemy fire, Higgins ducked and weaved his way through the hail of bullets. He counted to five before hurling both grenades.
Two successive explosions rang out as his grenades hit their targets, plumb in the middle of the Chinese dugout, followed closely by a huge explosion to his left where Davis had run. Davis had been mowed down by enemy fire and the grenades had gone off beside him, very nearly taking out the others behind the rock.
Running back to the others and collecting his rifle, Higgins told the men to move out. The three of them now moved quickly and silently toward the ensuing battle, rifles at their shoulders, eyes scanning for movement in the darkness which was constantly illuminated by bright bursts of light.
‘Major,’ he yelled with his finger on his throat mic, ‘Major, we’re flanking to the right, I repeat we are flanking to the right.’
‘Copy that, Corporal, we are under heavy machine gunfire. Attack the position I’m highlighting on the attack map.’
‘Yessir,’ responded Higgins, looking down at the screen on his wrist.
Beckoning his remaining two men forward, he asked, ‘You guys copy that?’
The men nodded feverishly.
‘Right, spread out, keep low. Jameson, here, you take this,’ handing him one of the two remaining grenades. ‘These are the last two, let’s make ’em count.’
‘You bet,’ replied Jameson.
Spreading out in a line, they crept forward slowly, every nerve ending screaming information to their brain. The men could see the dugout and the machine gun that was ripping into the major’s team. Higgins could see the silhouette of the Chinese soldiers in the dugout.
Calmly dropping to one knee, Higgins pulled out his last grenade, unpinned it and threw it in one fluid motion as he dropped for cover. The grenade sailed through the air and into the dugout. The Chinese stopped firing momentarily as they realised what had just joined them. A split second later and the grenade exploded, sending pieces of flesh and metal flying.
Without hesitation, Higgins and his men leapt into the destroyed dugout for shelter. Holding the button on his throat mic Higgins yelled, ‘Major, dugout secured, I repeat, dugout secured.’
‘Copy that Corporal. Now focus your attention on the main Chinese line. I’m highlighting them now, do you see?’
‘Yessir, I have it.’
‘B Company is under heavy fire but is pushing through. I’m not waiting for them though. Let’s keep the momentum,’ continued the major. His team had sustained heavy losses, but he’d be damned if he was slowing down now that they had the advantage.
‘Do you want us to move down to your position, sir?’ asked Higgins.
‘No, you keep out to our right and come in on a pincer movement.’
‘Yessir. Say the word, we’re ready to move out,’ replied Higgins, turning to look at the others. He knew the next stage was the most difficult and would in all likelihood result in their deaths.
‘Move out,’ came the order from Major Cowell through their earpieces.
Heaving his body up, Higgins readied himself to face the enemy fire once again. He looked over to his left and made out the silhouettes of the major’s team with their muzzle flashes moving quickly forward. Raising his rifle he fired at the Chinese line, aiming only at the white flashes coming from the enemy guns.
Moving forward as quickly as possible, they were soon running. Mouth open, Higgins wasn’t thinking anymore. He just ran and fired his weapon as accurately as possible — which wasn’t very precise given the terrain, darkness and speed they were moving. Higgins didn’t notice that the further forward they ran, the less the enemy fired back.
Still running forward and firing sporadically, Higgins finally noticed that there were no more muzzle flashes coming from the Chinese side. It was quieter, there was less movement around them and no bullets in the air.
Confused, he kept moving. Reaching the enemy trench, they dived in, the dirt sticking to their sweat-covered skin and soaked clothing. Jameson was beside him breathing heavily. Cahill was nowhere to be seen. ‘What the fuck?!’ said Jameson, ‘Where are they?’
No time to answer. They could see movement out of the corners of their eyes. Someone was running toward them down the trench. Lifting their weapons, they took aim. Higgins recognised the loping gait more than anything — it was the major.
‘Major!’ he yelled, lowering his rifle.
‘They fucking ran, Corporal,’ panted the major, struggling to catch his breath. ‘Soon as they saw that we’d busted through their first line, the little cunts turned and ran!’
‘We got ’em on the back foot now,’ replied Higgins.
‘Yep, we can have these bastards, we can push ’em back to where they came from,’ said the major with a fierce look in his eyes. He was high on adrenalin and the chemicals the army gave them to stay awake. This was the first taste of victory, however small, that the Australian infantry had achieved since the fighting began.
‘We need to set up a defensive position here — we can’t risk losing this ground to a counterattack,’ said the major rapidly. ‘Higgins, I want you to take your men back to base camp and bring up as much ammunition and supplies as possible.’
‘But sir, can’t the support company bring that forward? Like you said, we can’t lose this ground to a counterattack.’
‘Support company? They could take hours just to get themselves organised. No, I want you to go back immediately, is that understood?’ said Major Cowell.
‘Yessir, understood.’
‘Good man, Corporal. You did a bloody good job out there tonight. I’ll be recommending you for a promotion.’
‘Thank you Major,’ replied Higgins brusquely.
With that, the major turned and in a low crouch he jogged back down the trench line. ‘Jameson, let’s get the ammo and get back here,’ ordered Higgins. The adrenalin was quickly wearing off and being replaced by a heavy tiredness. Higgins knew they had to keep moving or they would collapse with exhaustion.
Higgins checked his bearings and led Jameson out of the trench, back the way they had come. They moved quickly and silently through the cool night air. A 30-minute jog later and they were at the base camp they had left earlier that night. In an hour or so it would be light — and they did not want to be out of the trenches in the light of day.