Dad's eyes got real big. He could hear the voices, but couldn't see anyone. His buddies also heard the talking, but they, too, couldn't see anyone. They didn't move or make any noise for several minutes. They just stayed where they were. Silent, listening as the voices got closer.
Finally, a group of ten or more Japanese soldiers came into view. The enemy soldiers were walking toward them. Dad looked at his buddies, and, whether by training or by instinct, they knew exactly what they had to do.
Dad stayed in the middle, while the other two worked themselves outward toward the left and the right., maybe ten to fifteen yards to each side. His buddies also moved forward a little from their original postilions, creating a human triangle, of sorts. This would keep them from getting into a cross-fire.
The point of all this maneuvering was so, when they started firing on their enemy, their fire would come from three different directions, instead of just one. This would confuse the enemy, make them think that there were more soldiers shooting at them than there actually were. It would give Dad and his buddies an advantage, and hopefully keep them alive.
Dad held his position. He carefully aimed his carbine at the leader of the patrol. When the Japanese soldiers all got within the kill zone, Dad fired the first shot. The leader of the patrol's head snapped back, half of it blown away. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be the guy in front. The body dropped straight to the ground like a bag of flour. The man was dead, but no one told his legs. They started to move like they were in a race, kicking back and forth, back and forth. Taking him nowhere.
Just then, the other Japanese soldiers returned fire. They opened up on my Dad, and he had to take cover for a few seconds. He lost sight of the running dead man.
Dad's buddies then opened up and started firing back at the Japanese soldiers. Dad looked up and saw several other enemy soldiers fall to the ground. Dad joined in the fun, and opened up with his carbine. He emptied a clip. Reloaded. And continued firing. Not aiming at anyone in particular, just firing. Sweeping his carbine in the direction of the Japanese soldiers.
The Japanese were being hit from three different angles. Confused, they didn't know where to shoot or who was shooting at them.
Dad ran out of ammo again. Again he reloaded. And again he continued blasting away. He couldn't even see who he was shooting at any more, because of all the smoke and sweat in his eyes. But he kept blasting away.
Better to be safe than sorry.
After several seconds of not receiving any return fire, he yelled at the other guys to stop firing. They did. For a long time he listened. It was dead quiet. Not even the animals or the birds made a sound. Unlike the Japanese soldiers, they knew when to keep their mouths shut.
He saw numerous bodies on the ground. They looked dead, but, still, he didn't move. He only listened and watched. He and his buddies knew that Japanese soldiers would pretend to be dead, and, when an enemy came close enough, they'd pull the pin on a grenade, killing themselves and any enemy close by.
Dad and his buddies had no choice. They carefully took aim, and then systematically shot each body on the ground. They were dead, but the smart thing to do was to make sure they were dead.
After being as sure as they could be, his buddies made their way back to their original positions, so they could cover each other's back, in case there are any additional Japanese soldiers who might try to outflank them. After a long time, and not seeing or hearing anything, they circled to the back of where the Japanese lay dead. They walked up to check the damage.
In total, there were seven dead Japanese soldiers.
If there were any survivors... well, let's just say that when the going got tough, the tough got going...
...the Hell out of there!
Raising My Father
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
jimduchene.blogspot.com Fifty Shades of Funny
@JimDuchene
No comments:
Post a Comment