He came up, gasping for air, but his wet uniform and heavy boots threatened to pull him back down.
The young soldier was gripping the charred life vest. He got one arm around Deke. The tables had turned.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
Together they started toward shore. It turned out that the chubby young soldier was a strong swimmer, his ample baby fat helping to keep him afloat and masking what must have been muscular arms and legs. The soggy life vest was better than nothing.
He gave a few final kicks. Deke was relieved to feel the solid coral under his feet, so much so that he could almost ignore the bullets zinging past them. They reached the sandy shore and flung themselves into a shell hole, finding what shelter they could. Most of an intact company seemed to be doing the same thing in other holes nearby. Deke didn’t know who they were, and he didn’t much care.
The naval bombardment had abated once the invasion force reached the coral reef. It had left behind a beach that looked as if it had been plowed by a drunken giant. Shattered trees from the line of jungle at the edge of beach were strewn far across the sand. However, the bombardment hadn’t seemed to do much to dampen the Japanese defenses. Machine-gun fire zinged through the air above the sand. The sharp crack of rifle fire filled Deke’s ears.
“I’m Dickie Shelby, by the way.” The green bean made the introduction as if they were at a church picnic, not on a beach with hot lead flying. Private Shelby seemed on the verge of sticking out his hand, but he thought better of it when he saw Deke’s look.
“Don’t care,” Deke said.
“You’re that sniper fella. You helped me pack back on the ship. I heard about you. What are you gonna do now?”
“I’m gonna go kill some Japs, that’s what. So are you. That’s why we’re here, you know.”
“How do we do that?” the green bean asked.
“Keep your head down. Stick with this company. Listen to the sergeant. Do what you’re told if a veteran like me tells you to do it. He’ll be trying to keep you alive. I didn’t save your ass to have you get killed in the first five minutes of being on this beach.”
The green bean nodded. Deke got the sense that he was going to be all right.
“What about you?” the soldier asked.
Deke patted his rifle, which had made it to shore wet but functional. The Springfield could take a lot of punishment — and give plenty too. “I’m gonna shoot some Japs, that’s what. Good luck.”
CHAPTER TEN
Deke left him there and went in search of Patrol Easy — hoping against hope that at least someone had survived the sinking of the landing craft. He hadn’t seen any of them in the water, which wasn’t surprising, given the chaos of the sinking. He refused to believe that they were all gone.
He ran down the beach, keeping at a crouch, running parallel to the surf line. Once or twice he had to step over a dead soldier. He tried to stay below the sandy ledge that had been cut by some previous storm, because it offered cover from the Japs in the tree line. They were watching, all right, because whenever his head popped above the sandy shelf, a flurry of bullets kicked up sand. No matter how many shells had been thrown at the beach, it hadn’t seemed to do a bit of good. They had hidden themselves away like spiders in a woodpile, only to come out when the barrage ended.
He followed his own advice and kept his head down.
Everywhere he looked, it was pandemonium. This sector was known as Red Beach, and it had encountered heavy Japanese resistance. What the men here didn’t know was that other landing zones had been uncontested or very nearly so, with soldiers coming ashore with little or no enemy fire to greet them. It was luck of the draw, considering that other units had gotten off easy, and their only choice was to fight back and eliminate the enemy threat.
Staying on the beach wasn’t an option. The Japs would just pick them off.
Part of the issue was that Hill 522 served as an anchor for Japanese resistance on this stretch of beach. Even without the battery that Patrol Easy had eliminated, Hill 522 remained a veritable fortress.
Deke ran along the shore without any destination in mind, hoping that he would spot another member of Patrol Easy. He didn’t see anybody. Maybe he should have gone in the other direction? Then again, maybe nobody else had made it off the wrecked landing craft. For now, he pushed that thought from his mind.
Sand had stuck to his wet uniform and even his boots, adding extra weight and effort to every step.
Feeling winded, Deke realized that his efforts to find any survivors from his patrol might be futile. The loss would be a bitter pill to swallow. They had endured so much together that he didn’t dare to think of them as dead. Philly, Yoshio, Rodeo, Alphabet, Egan, and his new war dog, and even Lieutenant Steele, who seemed indestructible in Deke’s mind. Maybe he should have tried to find them in the wreck instead of helping that useless four-eyed green bean.
“Dammit!” he shouted in frustration.
He still held out hope. The alternative was too awful to contemplate. But for now he had to make sure that he lived through the next ten minutes on this beach.
He decided to attach himself to a group of soldiers that was rallying around an officer. The man could be heard shouting orders even above all the fireworks on the beach.
To Deke’s surprise, he saw that the officer wore a camouflage uniform. It was none other than Colonel Woodall. Some of his sniper squad was spread along the sand. Their bravado from the ship was gone, however. Most of them had their heads down, too scared to move.
Deke didn’t blame them. This wasn’t shooting at paper targets on the firing range. These men might be well equipped, and they might even be crack shots, but they had never been under fire before. Instead of shooting back at the Japs, they kept their faces buried in the sand.
Woodall was having none of it. This assault on the beach wasn’t his first rodeo. He screamed at the men to fight. He appeared to be a brave son of a bitch, but foolhardy. He stood up and waved the soldiers forward.
“Get off this beach!” he shouted. “If we don’t get off this beach, we’re going to die here. The Japs will chew us to pieces.”
His warning was punctuated by a fresh burst of machine-gun fire. The Japs had gotten some of their knee mortars into play, and they were now walking their fire closer to the sandy shelf where the troops were taking cover.
Colonel Woodall grabbed a man by the shoulder and shoved him forward. After a couple of dazed steps, the man figured it out and ran toward the tree line. Other soldiers started to get the message and began to rush toward the tree line, where the beach sand ended and the jungle began. At least there was cover there. It was also where the Japanese were hidden, and it would be up to the soldiers to push them out.
Deke saw the officer standing tall despite the bullets spitting at the sand around his feet. There was brave, and there was foolish. Get down, Deke silently urged him.
Too late.
Colonel Woodall spun around, clipped by a bullet. He fell back onto the sand.
Deke ran over to see if he could do anything for Woodall. To Deke’s relief, the bullet appeared to have grazed Woodall’s shoulder with enough force to knock him off balance, but it hadn’t done any serious damage.
“Sir, are you all right?”
Woodall looked up and recognized Deke instantly. “You’re one of Steele’s snipers. What are you doing here, soldier?”
“Lost my unit, sir. The landing craft got hit.”
Deke began helping Woodall to his feet, but the colonel shook him off.
“I’m all right. Never mind about me. Start shooting some Japs.” Incredibly, Woodall managed a small smile. “Private, just remember that they’re not seagulls.”