Trouncing the Raptor into the muck, the king of dinosaurs returned to its feeding, tearing off strips of meat like a practiced butcher. Other Raptors retreated, snagging fallen combatants and dinosaurs. They dragged the booty towards the jungle.
Dawson figured the Tyrannosaurus had sent them away. Then he noticed a band of Raiders headed towards the decimated combat zone. Captain Roosevelt and Bravo Company had arrived. They’d push the remaining Japanese troops into the interior. A feeling of reassurance comforted him.
For a moment, he considered the mission a success and he would live to tell about it.
A bullet dinged off his helmet. Dawson crouched and shouldered his rifle.
He trained his line of vision towards the trajectory of the shot. This inevitably led him to the scrub brush where his nemesis had taken position.
Dawson gulped, realizing he couldn’t react fast enough to a deadly threat.
Forty-Three
The final letter was not postmarked from a naval base. Dawson carried it in a tin container, stuffed into his breast pocket with the Marine Corps logo emblazed on the front and USMC printed above the eagle, globe and anchor.
Mary,
If you are reading this letter, then you’ve probably gotten news that I won’t be coming home. I’m sorry that you have to go through the challenging time ahead. Sorrowful that you have to face it alone. I wish that I could be there to help you through it. It pains me to think of you hearing the news, reading this letter… the empty hollow feeling inside. My only comfort in passing is the thought that the Marine Corps gave us a way to speak our final words to loved ones.
Tell my parents that I love them with all my heart. I know there were a few difficult times growing up, but they were proud of me. And I want them both to know that I’m as proud of them as they are of me, even more. They are good people. My brother and sisters are in my heart.
Although we did not get to spend the quiet years together after the war like we’d hoped, I am confident the war will end, and the allied forces will prevail. The time that we had together is the most meaningful part of my life. As important and gratifying my successes with the Marine Corps have been, it all pales in comparison to my relationship with you.
You have been the most meaningful thing in my life. I consider the strength of our relationship as the greatest achievement one could possibly have. And we reached that point at a tender age. Much of it is attributable to you. You’re a kind, caring, and thoughtful person. A positive influence in my life and good-natured. You’re beautiful and tender, and my inspiration. Everything I’ve become is because of you.
I know that I mean the world to you, too. So, this next part is not easy to say. I love you more than words can express. But I do not expect you to go on forever alone. When you are ready, and the time is right, you should still try to have a family. I love you that much, that I want you to be happy and have a life. You’re young with a lot to live for.
Wish things could be different, but this is how it turned out. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up. Marines live a dangerous life. It is a brotherhood and a new family. Others also paid the sacrifice, and I hope you think of them in your prayers too.
Forty-Four
The initial small arms fire had set the Gocho into action. He’d heard major fighting and was eager to join the fray. But he had valuable currency in the prisoners they had captured, including an officer.
When the flames wafted above the jungle canopy from the fuel storage tanks, he’d known the Imperial soldiers were getting the worse end of the battle.
“We need to join the fight!” He yelled and stomped his foot.
“Our orders were to intercept this unit and take prisoners,” said Superior Private Sato.
Gocho glared at him. “We’re not going to stand by and do nothing while the Americans take out valuable resources.”
“What should we do?” Sato muttered sheepishly.
“We’re not going to do anything.” Gocho shook his head. “Round these men by a tree and tie them up with vines.”
“Vines, sir?”
“Yes,” Gocho said. “The vines won’t hold them, alone. But they’ll impede the prisoners from getting the drop on the two of you.”
“The two of us, sir?”
“You and Ito will remain here and stand guard.”
“And you, Gocho?”
“I will go ahead and confront the Americans.”
They circled the prisoners around the largest tree in the area, then bound them with strips of vine. Both privates worked at tying up hands and legs, and then they tied the captives to the tree, wrapping thick vines around their chests. Left alone, the makeshift restraints would not hold the prisoners, but they would serve as a hinderance to any attempted escape.
Running through the jungle, the Gocho felt winded and his muscles were tired from fighting enemy combatants and the dinosaurs. Explosions in the distance made his heart pound and pulse race. He feared being disgraced with the first major loss of the war.
The angst of being defeated in battle spurred him on. Approaching the battlefield, a calamity fell into view. Flames hurled skyward from the fuel tanks, and the garrison had been reduced to a smoldering pile of debris. Rain could not extinguish the flames and they rose from the collapsed building like a harbinger of failure.
A Tyrannosaurus Rex stood near the detritus, with its hide charred, bloody and burned. It picked at a vanquished beast. The fallen dinosaur was much larger than the creature feeding upon it. Gocho imagined a fierce battle had been undertaken on the soil where he’d casually reprimanded soldiers for uniform violations. Scattered about the battle zone, he witnessed bloodied combatants, strewn on the wet ground, wailing in pain as scavengers nibbled at the dead and suffering. A few fought back aimlessly, while others groaned in agony.
Gocho ran to an Imperial position that encroached what remained of the American line. He found Tanaka and a younger private hunkered down. Tanaka had his rifle trained on an American, but he didn’t pull the trigger.
The American was looking at a wounded marine.
“Fire!” Gocho commanded.
Tanaka shook his head. “It’s too late. All is lost.”
“You fire,” Gocho said to the other private.
A couple shots whizzed past the American, but neither resulted in a hit. Gocho shook his head, dismayed at the poor marksmanship.
The American seemed mesmerized, taking in the grim scene.
Gocho grabbed the private’s rifle. He kneeled.
And he took a steady aim.
Squeezing the trigger, the American’s meek eyes met his, just as the Gocho fired the rifle. A bullet sailed through the air and struck the American’s upper left chest.
The shot pitched the marine backward.
His knees buckled, then he dropped onto his left side in the mire.
Smoke and drizzling rain obscured the target from view. Soot wafted through the air and burned Gocho’s eyes. He blinked and checked to see if the American was moving. Nothing. The marine appeared dead, but the Gocho couldn’t be sure.
Gocho pulled back the bolt and chambered another round. He readied to fire another shot to ensure the kill. The American did not move.
“He’s dead,” Tanaka said. “You’ve killed a worthy adversary.”
“Let’s make sure.” Gocho aimed for the man’s chest.
Something dark eclipsed the target from the Gocho’s view. He lifted his head from the weapon and blinked, trying to focus his eyes. The smoke from the burning infrastructure was bothering him, obscuring his vision.