1945

Ridgway shrugged. War crimes trials were none of his concern, at least not yet. "Maybe his actions show he isn't as guilty as we thought? On the other hand, you may also be right. Helping to end this crap might just win some people a lot of forgiveness."

Burchett seemed to shiver. "In the meantime, God help the men in the front lines who are having to endure this awful fighting."

The reporters looked at each other. "I think we're about done, aren't we?" White said, speaking for the group.

"Yes."

"Well then, General, how much of what you've said will we be able to print?"

Ridgway laughed grimly. "Not a damned word."

CHAPTER 82

ROUND TOP

Paul Morrell was consumed with fear and anger. Japs were less than a hundred yards away in the trenches along where the kamikaze had crashed. The Japs had swarmed up the hill and overrun what remained before he could shore up the defenses and replace the casualties. Worse, a misunderstanding had sent Sergeant Collins and the reserve force of twenty men in a counterattack that had seen them chewed up by the Japs. Only a handful of men had returned, and Collins wasn't one of them.

"What now, Lieutenant?" It was First Sergeant Mackensen, and Paul saw fear in his face as well. The sergeant was normally a rock, but now he was as scared as anyone. Death in the form of untold numbers of Japs was only a little ways away.

Ironically, the long night had ended and the weather had begun to clear up, which meant that he could see the Jap trenches more clearly. Sometimes he could see their helmets and bayonets as they moved around and got organized. Shooting between the two groups was constant, and Paul wondered which of the many dead bodies on the ground between the two lines was his friend Collins.

"Lieutenant," Mackensen insisted, "what the hell do we do now?"

Paul began to shake again. With enormous effort, he gathered himself. There were orders to give. "We go to Last Stand. Order everybody out of their trenches and into Last Stand."

It was desperation, but what other choice did he have? Last Stand was the sardonic name given by the troops to the earthen berm that ran around Orlando's tank. In front of the berm was a line of trenches. It was Paul's idea. Men could shoot from behind the berm and from the trenches, which would effectively double their firepower. It would also make them more vulnerable to machine gun and mortar fire because they would be so closely packed, but it was a chance he had to take. Already Jap mortar rounds were falling, and a number of his wounded had been pulled back to the narrow ground between the tank and the berm.

On signal, men raced from their positions and into Last Stand. Paul was dismayed at how few they were. Mackensen sorted them out and made sure there were no gaps in the lines. The Japs must be doing much the same thing, Paul realized. They were gathering for one last push past the useless howitzers and into Last Stand. He wondered just what the hell the Japs would do with the hill when they took it. The Japs had suffered badly. The slopes of Round Top were littered with dead and the trench was full of them.

"Lieutenant." It was Orlando from the tank.

"What?"

"I just want you to know that our hitherto inexhaustible supply of ammo is pretty well shot, pardon my pun."

It didn't surprise Paul. Everyone's weapon had been firing constantly. A lot of their reserve stores had been destroyed by the plane, while others were out of reach because of the Jap advance.

"When we run out of bullets we go to bayonets. When we're all out of weapons," Paul answered with an almost maniacal laugh, "we'll piss on them."

That brought nervous laughter from a couple of the men who heard it. Funny, but there was no talk of surrender. The Japs would kill anyone who even tried, so what would be the point?

"Banzai! " came the shriek from the trench, and he saw a sword waving in the air. "Banzai, banzai, banzai!"

A sea of humanity lifted out of the trenches and up the slope of the hill. The men in Last Stand fired as rapidly as they could, with the two machine guns on the tank joining in. They launched mortar shells at their highest possible trajectory so they would come down just outside the berm. Japs fell by the dozen, by the score, but they still came on. Many fired at the Americans as they advanced and the air became filled with grenades. The noise was deafening as men shot at each other at close range, screamed, and died. Neither the berm nor the trenches provided full protection, and more of Paul's command fell.

Paul turned to Sergeant Orlando, whose head was sticking out of the driver's hatch. "Now," Paul managed to say with a calmness he didn't feel. "Use firefly, Sergeant."