Dawson uncurled the fist and looked it over. The surrender note that Lieutenant Colonel Carson had scribed for the enemy. It would never reach their adversaries.
Still, he couldn’t understand why the creatures would leave the corpse. A scuffle on the bank caught his attention. His unit had approached to investigate the situation. The club tail nearest to him let out a groan and stomped its right, front leg. A warning to keep away.
“What’s this?” said Mudhole, looking over Dawson’s shoulder.
“The surrender note we heard about.” Dawson handed it to Wilson.
He merely perused it and shoved it into his pocket.
“Do we have to take it on to the enemy?” Dawson considered whether the obligation now fell to them.
“Heck no.” Wilson shook his head.
“Are you sure?” This from Jenkins, who immediately drooped his head.
“Shut your mouth.” Wilson stood with a Colt .45 in one hand and the other was placed on his hip. He didn’t appear to be in the mood for answering to subordinates.
The young marines turned quiet, afraid to set him off further.
“Our mission is a seek and destroy. We are headed inland to blow those fuel dumps and demolish any infrastructure we come across.” Wilson paused to look them over. “The surrender directive was never tasked to us. Besides, I wasn’t in favor of it to begin with. I’d rather take my chances fighting whoever and whatever is lurking on this island than risk being captured by the Japanese. There’s already been rumors of torture and horrible conditions.”
“Understood, Staff Sergeant Wilson,” said Dawson.
Others nodded in agreement. Marines tightened the grips on their weapons, hands turning white in the dark night. They were ready to engage the enemy.
“We should get a move—” Wilson’s words were cut short.
A scout car and transport truck rumbled up the dirt road, with headlights cutting into the dense jungle. Soldiers were hunkered down on benches in the truck bed and others trailed behind it riding bicycles. And still others followed them on foot.
“Get down,” whispered Wilson.
The Raiders crouched behind palm fronds and waited for the truck to pass. With the mission being a seek and destroy, they did not have to meet the enemy unless necessary. They could head inland and target the fuel dumps. Dawson figured if the truck continued past them, the marines would encounter little resistance.
But a foot soldier stopped at the edge of the lane and called out to his comrades. He pointed at the marines and sounded the alarm. A few others came to his side.
Fortunately, the truck continued down the roadway unawares. Dawson and the other marines would only have to face a few infantrymen. Then the soldier who spotted them raised his rifle and fired at them. A bullet tore through the vegetation over their heads.
He lowered his barrel slightly, adjusting his aim.
The shot caused the transport to halt. Reinforcements would soon be upon them.
Bishop let loose with his Browning Automatic Rifle. The BAR ripped up the jungle and the enemy soldiers alike. Infantrymen flailed in a death dance, as Bishop’s rounds punched into them, blasting them in sundry directions. His bullets seemed to keep them on their feet longer than possible on their own.
As the soldiers teetered over, the truck backed down the road and the tailgate dropped open. Fresh troops alighted from the truck and took up positions along the side of the lane. They began to fire at the marines.
“Don’t just sit there,” Wilson commanded. “Move out.”
He broke towards the left and the Raiders followed him. They grouped downslope from the front of the truck, moving behind rocks, trees, and brush, trying to avoid direct enemy fire from a higher elevation.
Dawson grabbed Bishop’s shoulder. “Wait.”
“What do you mean?”
“You guys come with me,” Dawson said to Simmons’s fire team.
“What are you planning to do?” Bishop didn’t want to listen.
“Come on,” Dawson said, running to the right. “We’re going to outflank them.”
His troopers followed him. While breaking past the club tail dinosaurs, the one closest to them hissed and meandered up the hillside.
“Let’s go.” Dawson waved to the others and ran after the dinosaur.
Trailing behind the club tail reluctantly, the marines kept a safe distance from Dawson and the creature. He caught up to it and leaned a shoulder into its hulking side. The Ankylosaurus snorted and growled, but it kept trucking along.
“Get in behind me,” Dawson instructed them.
“Are you crazy?” This from Bishop. “I’m not going near that thing.”
“We’ll use it for cover like an armored tank.”
A few enemy soldiers had already picked up on their assault. Infantrymen had set a perimeter and the men on the left flank worked to assemble a Lewis-type machinegun. Within a moment, lead would be flying at them.
“Now!”
The fire team assembled behind Dawson just as the machinegun rattled away. Bullets dinged off the sides of helmets and bored into the creature’s hide. It grunted and picked up speed, trotting toward the menacing weapon. Angered. Dawson hustled to match pace with the beast. He ran, trying to keep his head down and wasn’t looking at the ground.
His right foot landed on uneven ground and he tumbled into a depression. The others cleared the edge of the small ditch. He scrambled to his feet and returned fire.
The Ankylosaurus’s tail whisked by him, swinging from side to side. Dawson bolted out of the hole to avoid being struck by the spiked appendage. As he ascended the depression, he realized the soil was crimped at the end of circular dimples; he’d fallen into an enormous footprint with claws.
Twenty-Three
Tanaka had jumped from the truck as soon as the transport came to a halt. He ran around to the back of the vehicle and removed pegs and let the gate down. Soldiers piled out and moved into action. Osamu trundled past with a dire look in his eyes.
He told them to line up along the edge of the road, forming a perimeter and using the berm along the lane for cover. Soon the Jun-i was on the scene barking orders.
Imperial foot soldiers assembled the imitation Lewis machineguns at three tactical locations: the end of each flank and the center-point of the perimeter. A gas operated weapon, the Lewis guns fired a Japanese version of the British .303 cartridge. It utilized a circular magazine that held approximately 100 rounds. Osamu joined the center unit.
The Americas split into two groups. A larger contingency broke toward the center and flank near the parked transport. And the other group, much smaller, headed past the farthest flank, utilizing a beast for cover.
“Tanaka!” Jun-i spoke harshly.
“Yes, sir.” He faced the warrant officer and noted concern.
“They are better trained than we anticipated. Dividing troops and immediately moving to outflank us was a decisive tactical move.”
“We have the machineguns ready to fire.”
“Yes, but they avoided the crossfire from two guns at a time by breaking to either side, and they kept us from concentrating our attack by dividing into groups.”
“We will put up a brave fight.”
The Jun-i considered him for a moment. “I know that you will represent the honor of the Empire. Now, I want you to take command of the flank where the smaller force is headed. You must prevent them from coming around our line.”
“I will get to it right away, sir.”
“Our perimeter is a semi-circle. If they make headway, you fold your flank inward, tightening our circle.”