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Despite their heavy losses, including the naval defeat in the waters off Leyte, the Japanese were determined to wrest the Philippines back from the invasion forces. At the very least, they intended to inflict such heavy losses that it would leave the American forces damaged and licking their wounds for some time to come.

To that end, Japan’s ships loaded with supplies and transports filled with troops continued to steam toward the Philippines, converging on the fight like moths to a flame. Like those moths, they seemed headed for their own destruction. Most of the vessels never reached shore, but were bombed and sunk. The sheer number of Japanese troops lost at sea was tremendous, numbering into the thousands. Oblivious, the Japanese high command sent more men to die.

These heavy losses were inflicted by the superior air power and naval forces of the United States, especially in the wake of the decisive battle of Leyte Gulf. There was not much left in terms of a Japanese Navy to defend its supply chain across the vast Pacific.

However, the Japanese still had some teeth. There were enough airfields within Japanese control that they were able to harass both US ground and naval forces.

This situation soon became apparent to Patrol Easy and the rest of Merrick’s company as they set up a defensive position at the small harbor in the distance.

With his sharp eyes, Deke was the first to notice the vessel. The sun was going down, and the sea had taken on the color of gunmetal, interrupted by the dark blur of the distant ship.

“What the hell is that?” Deke asked. He put his rifle to his shoulder so that he could get a better view of the ship through the telescopic sight.

It appeared to be a small troop transport, all alone on the ocean. Although it could technically be called a small ship, it appeared to be more akin to a floating shoebox — an ungraceful vessel cobbled together with wood and metal, then filled to the brim with troops.

“I hate to say this,” Honcho said once the lone ship had been brought to his attention. He studied the distant vessel through binoculars. “But I don’t think that’s one of ours.”

“Japanese? You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Philly.

By now word had spread, and the rest of the company was intent on the ship. They all watched in wonder as the lone transport continued its journey toward shore.

“Don’t tell me those guys are planning a one-ship invasion,” Steele muttered. “They can’t seriously think that they can take back an island with one ship.”

“It sure looks like that’s what they’re planning to do,” Deke said.

Incredible as it seemed, the ship kept right on coming. It was just possible that in the evening light, whoever was at the helm of the transport could not see that the shore was, in fact, occupied. Or if they could see troops on shore, maybe they had assumed that those troops were Japanese.

Just a day or two before, after all, there would have been Japanese troops here. They had since retreated to defend Ormoc.

There was a lot of confusion in war for all sorts of reasons. It wasn’t called “the fog of war” for nothing. It was even possible that the transport had outdated orders or had been out of communication, its radio knocked out or malfunctioning. After the devastating naval battle, whatever the case, the crew of the Japanese transport seemed uninformed.

It was even possible that the officers on the ship were well aware that they were sailing into a suicide mission but had no intention of turning back. The Japanese mindset was a mystery.

Captain Merrick watched in as much disbelief as any of his men.

“Hold your fire,” he ordered. “Let’s make sure those buggers are Japanese before we go and sink one of our own ships. Where’s Deke? Deke, you’ve got sharp eyes. Tell me when you can see a flag on that ship.”

Their fingers itchy on their trigger fingers, the soldiers waited. They didn’t have any artillery, but a mortar squad set up to greet the incoming vessel if needed.

At least two heavy machine guns were lined up, their sights zeroed in on the vessel.

“Come on, come on. Just a little closer,” muttered Private Frazier, balancing his BAR across a chunk of driftwood. “Come to Papa.”

Silently, almost eerily, the dark hulk of the vessel approached. The men on shore could hear the steady thrum of its engine carrying across the water, directly toward the harbor entrance. Aside from a few small fishing boats moored here and there, the harbor itself was otherwise empty. The muddy water of the Malbasag River ran out to mix with the clear ocean water. The vessel was still far enough out that the water was quite deep, well over a man’s head. The swirling currents where the river’s flow met the sea looked treacherous.

Lieutenant Steele had his binoculars out and was studying the ship intently. “I’ll be damned.” He whispered the words in disbelief. “It is a Japanese vessel, all right. Deke?”

“I can see their damn meatball flag, Honcho.”

Soon, even without binoculars, the men on shore could clearly see the enemy flag silhouetted against what remained of the bright sky above the darkening sea.

“Steady, steady,” Merrick shouted. “Here they come.”

The vessel was picking up speed, apparently intent on racing into the harbor and up onto the shore so that its Japanese troops could disembark. As the ship came closer, they were able to see a few helmets appearing above the straight-sided gunwales. Clearly these were not troops expecting a battle. They were just curious to see what awaited them on shore.

Deke was feeling well enough that he could put his rifle to his shoulder and fix his crosshairs on one of those helmets.

“Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes,” some witty bastard said, and a few men nearby laughed.

Captain Merrick was having none of it. “Everybody shut up. This is no joke. Get ready. When I give the order, I want you to put more holes in that boat than a screen door.”

Silence fell over the company as they tensed up before the hell that they were about to unleash.

So far the Japanese had not opened fire on the shore. Surely the transport was equipped with at least a machine gun. They seemed about to be taken by utter and complete surprise.

“Fire!” Captain Merrick shouted.

No sooner had the order escaped his lips than the entire company began shooting at the barge. The air seemed to shimmer with bullets. Tracers from the machine guns raced across the water and tore into the transport at the waterline. The heavy bullets ripped open the lightly built structure as effectively as a can opener, so that water began to pour into the transport. The gap was made worse by the force of water as the vessel continued rushing forward. Soon the vessel began to list badly to one side.

If the lookouts on the vessel had thought that the troops on shore were friendly, they had received a rude awakening. Too late, a machine gun began to answer from the Japanese.

The weird blue tracers from the Japanese gun danced across the harbor toward shore. Near Deke, a soldier cried out as one of the enemy rounds found its mark, but his cry was instantly cut short as he was hit again by the Japanese gun.

Private Frazier had unleashed the full fury of his BAR and emptied it into the vessel in one long burst. He slapped in another magazine and went to town on the vessel. He was shouting something as he fired. It was hard to make out the words, and maybe there weren’t any — it was almost a high gleeful sound, very nearly a girlish squeal of delight, which sounded strange coming from such a big man.

Japanese soldiers were now leaping from the vessel into the water, but they were loaded down with their heavy equipment — packs, rifles, ammo, grenades, bayonets, even swords — everything they had anticipated that they would need for the landing. They were soon pulled under and lost from sight.