He could also see that the Japanese troops looked thin, dirty, and exhausted. There were a lot of them, but they were definitely not in top condition.
Hidden in a trench at the bottom of the hill, Lieutenant Steele used a finger to map out their route, drawing in the dirt.
“See how these trenches zigzag up the hill?” Honcho asked. “We can follow them right to the top.”
“That’s crazy,” Philly said.
“Sometimes crazy is what works. We’ll be done and out of here before the Japs know what hit them. That said, I don’t want any shooting.”
“Honcho, in case you haven’t noticed, those are Japs!”
“Japs who don’t even know we’re here, so don’t go shooting anyone and telling them otherwise. Got it?”
“You’re the boss.”
“I’ll lead. Bat and Ball, you’re next. Have those charges ready. Rodeo, Yoshio, Alphabet, you cover them when they go to toss those satchels into the bunker. Deke, you watch our tail.”
It was a simple plan, and sometimes simple plans worked best — even when they were fraught with danger.
They started up the hill, Steele leading the way. By keeping to the network of trenches, and staying crouched low, they managed not to attract any attention to themselves.
In fact, most of the Japanese soldiers were so intent on their work that they didn’t pay any attention to the soldiers moving through the trenches. Maybe they were too exhausted to notice or maybe even to care. Besides, most of the rank-and-file Japanese soldiers had learned a long time ago that it wasn’t smart to pay too much attention — it was best to keep their heads down and do what they were told.
The exception was a soldier who spotted the movement through the trench and the uniforms that looked out of place. He stared at Deke bringing up the rear, and his eyes went wide in disbelief. Deke brought his rifle up, ready to pop him, but he remembered Honcho’s warning not to spoil the surprise by firing any shots. Besides, the poor bastard wasn’t armed with anything but a shovel.
Instead, Deke put a finger to his lips in the universal gesture to keep quiet. The soldier seemed to realize that if he shouted an alarm, Deke would shoot him. It was all the warning that he needed. He just stared quietly as Deke disappeared around a switchback in the trench.
They climbed higher. It took just a few minutes to approach the top. Below, the beach and the blue water of the gulf stretched out before them. Deke had sharp eyes, but he didn’t see any sign of the destroyer that had brought them to the Japanese doorstep. If the USS Ingersoll was still out there, it must be over the horizon.
With a sinking feeling, Deke realized that all it would take was to position a few machine guns up here, along with some artillery, and that beach would be very hard to take. Not impossible — after all, US forces had already taken Guadalcanal and Guam, among other places — but there would be a heavy price to pay. I reckon that’s why we’re here.
At the top of the promontory, they reached the bunker where the big naval guns were hidden. Deke caught up to the others but hung behind a few feet, watching their back trail. At any moment, the soldier he’d seen earlier might change his mind and sound the alarm. He didn’t even want to think about fighting his way back down the hill.
He pushed that thought from his mind and studied the bunker instead. The sight of the massive guns was enough to give anyone pause. He could just see the barrels in the gloom inside the bunker. Three guns, side by side, each barrel at least thirty feet long. The muzzles looked big enough for a man to put his head into. The barrels were set at a forty-five degree angle, probably to give them the greatest range. It was no different from firing a rifle a long distance — you had to aim high because gravity constantly worked to pull things back to earth. He didn’t even want to think about the damage those guns could do if they were aimed at the invasion fleet that would appear soon.
“I don’t know,” Bat said. He looked at Ball, who shook his head.
They both had the satchel charges ready. The plan had been for them to throw them into the bunker, starting with Bat, but he was hesitating. “Heavy as those guns are, I’m not sure we’ve got enough bang here to take them out.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and set off the ammunition,” the lieutenant said.
“Maybe. But with batteries like this, I’d say most of the ammunition is stored separately, just to prevent any accidents,” Bat said knowingly.
“What are you telling me?”
“That I want to get closer. If I can get one of these charges into the magazine, it will take the top off this hill. Otherwise, I’m not sure how much damage we’ll really do.”
The lieutenant nodded reluctantly. “All right, get in there and get as close as you can.”
“What about the Japs?” Philly asked.
“We’ve been lucky so far. Let’s hope our luck holds.”
It was easy to see why Bat was concerned that the demolition charge might not be enough. The guns looked massively heavy. Then again, how close did he really want to be when that charge detonated? Each satchel contained eight half-pound blocks of TNT. That ought to be enough to blow the battery to kingdom come — along with anybody who happened to get too close to the explosion.
With Ball hanging back with his own satchel charge in reserve, Bat crept closer. Each moment that they lingered up here at the bunker, where there were surely alert guards, increased their danger. The element of surprise could be lost at any moment — and then what?
Deke held his breath as Bat moved toward the entrance to the bunker. He could see movement within — perhaps the gun crew putting finishing touches on the defenses or guards on duty.
Almost there.
Bat stood up to his full height, then pulled his arm back so that he could whip the satchel deep into the bunker. It seemed impossible that none of the Japanese had noticed him.
But his luck didn’t hold.
A shot rang out.
“I’m hit!” he cried.
He had been in the process of releasing the satchel charge when he’d been shot. The explosives were now in the air, but his pitch had been thrown off when he’d been hit. They watched helplessly as the satchel struck the side of the bunker entrance and bounced off, landing just outside the mouth of the bunker.
When he saw that the throw had gone wrong, Bat started to haul himself out of the trench, favoring his wounded arm. Deke had to hand it to the marine. It looked as if the determined son of a bitch was going to try to throw the charge deeper into the bunker — even if it meant getting himself blown up in the process.
Another shot followed, striking the lip of the trench that Bat was crawling out of. His natural reflex was to duck back down, costing him the few seconds he needed to get to the bunker.
Too late. With a tremendous blast, the satchel charge went off. At least four pounds of TNT sent dirt flying everywhere, raining rocks and debris across the top of the hill. The Japanese sentries in the vicinity of the bunker entrance had been sent to join their ancestors. As the air cleared, it became evident that the explosion hadn’t been close enough to the battery to do it any real harm. Deke could see the three massive barrels still pointing toward the sea, ready to pulverize any Allied ships that appeared.
Dazed soldiers began pouring out of the bunker, but an officer emerged, getting them organized. There was no hope now of getting the second satchel charge anywhere near that bunker.