James Benn: The White Ghost

Good.

The hill came into view. I waved and signaled the Japs were behind us as we raced around it, but Trent and his men needed no prompting. They waited a few seconds for the full mass of men to come into view. The attacking Japs slowed, someone obviously on his toes, noticing the fortified position ahead.

The machine gun opened up. Lead ripped into the front line, dropping half a dozen of them. Then everyone else fired, M1 rounds dispatching even more. The machine gun chattered away as the Japs faltered and began to retreat, using the trees as cover, much as we had.

Trent signaled the machine gunner to cease fire.

“Think there’s more?” Trent asked Porter, who was lying on his back, gasping for air.

“Plenty more,” Porter said. “They tried to encircle us. There’s at least a company moving through the bush on each flank. And I’d bet some heavy weapons aren’t far behind on the trail. They hit us with mortars a few times.”

“LCs?” I asked Trent.

“Should be approaching the river now. But it’s going to take some time to get everyone on board, especially the wounded. We’ve got two PT boats on the way as well.”

“Listen,” Porter said, sitting up and accepting a canteen from Trent. “You should all head to the river. Leave me here with the machine gun.”

“No,” I said.

“What’s the matter with you, Boyle?” Porter said. “I’m sorry to cheat the hangman, but I’ll do more good dying here than in some bloody prison in a few months. Who will that help?”

“It’ll take more than one man to hold them off,” Trent said. I didn’t like that he hadn’t put the kibosh on Porter’s suggestion entirely.

“Position your men below, so they can hit the Japs as well. Then pull out fast after the next attack and get to the river. What have you got to lose?” Porter looked to each of us. I could see the idea had some appeal.

“Can we trust you?” I asked.

“Christ,” he said, “you must be crackers. I saved your life last night, giving you that whack on the head. You were making so much noise, a deaf Jap would have heard us in Tokyo. Sorry about that, but I didn’t think you’d agree with my suggestion. You must admit, it all worked out.”

“He’s got a point,” Kaz said.

“You too?” I knew when I was beat. “Okay. But I’m staying up here, until the last minute. Sarge, when you pull out, I’ll come down the rear slope and join you quick as I can.”

“As will I,” Kaz said.

No one had a chance to comment. Another wave of Japs had come out of the jungle, but this time they’d moved stealthily, and were well into the trees before we spotted them. We poured fire into them, but they returned it as well. We’d been lucky the first time, catching them unawares. That wasn’t going to happen twice. Bullets hit the coconut logs and split the air above us. Then a marine went down, hit by fire coming from our right flank.

“That’s the other company!” Porter yelled. They were working their way through the tiger grass, creating waves of movement targeting their position. The machine gunner swiveled and fired bursts into the grass, forcing the survivors back.

“There’s not much time,” Porter said, stating the obvious. “Once they get machine guns and mortars close enough, they’ll hit us from two sides and they won’t stop.”

“Okay,” Trent said, ordering his men to fall back and block the path to the river. “Porter, whatever it is you’ve done, I appreciate what you’re doing for us.” He stuck out his hand and they shook.

“You two,” Trent said, “watch our position. When we pull out you better be damn close behind us. You’ll need these.” He handed me the binoculars and followed his men down the back slope and into the grove, taking up positions behind the tall trees. I could see him sending a runner down to the river, probably to check on the landing craft.

“You know how to operate that thing?” I asked Porter, as he took over at the machine gun.

“Yes,” he said. “They trained us on Jap and Yank weapons. I guess I’ll be an expert in short order.” He pulled an ammo box closer, checking the belt, readying himself behind the gun, and settling in with a smile. He was a strange one, all right.

“You seem to be in a cheerful mood,” Kaz said.

“Why not? I’m outside, with the breeze on my face and the sea at my back, doing heroic things under an open sky. A lot better than being imprisoned in a dark hole for months before they hang me. You blokes are doing me a favor.”

“Delighted,” Kaz said. “Look there.” The Japs to our front were making another push, moving man by man, taking cover behind the trees, in the three rows to our left. Then I spotted movement in the tiger grass and fired my M1, getting rifle fire in return.

Porter squeezed off bursts at the figures behind the trees, but they had good cover. Trent and his men had a better angle and peppered them with shots, pushing them back. I fired another clip into the tiger grass, and heard a scream. It was the ones who didn’t scream that worried me.

Kaz crawled over to check on Trent. “They’re pulling out,” he said. “Time to go.”

I checked my ammo. Three more clips. I unloaded into the tiger grass again, just to be sure.

“All set, Porter?” I said, eyes still on the tiger grass.

“Boyle?” Porter said.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Peter, will you?” He smiled, the grime and sweat on his face glistening in the sun. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself, and I almost gave in. Then I thought of Deanna.

“No. Count yourself lucky I don’t drag you back to a dark cell.” With that, I followed Kaz over the logs and down the slope. He might be the hero of the day here on Choiseul, but I knew him from Tulagi.

We ran low, taking cover where Trent and his men had been. It was about two hundred yards to the river bank, and I could hear the landing-craft engines. I raised my M1, looking for Japs among the trees. I spotted one, his hands and feet visible as he shinnied up a tree. A sniper, looking for a good angle on the machine-gun nest. Worse still, he’d see there was only one man left on the hill. I aimed at his hand-a tough shot, not because of the distance, but because it was a small target. I fired. Once, twice, and then he fell, his scream signaling a hit.

“Billy, how long are we going to stay here?” Kaz asked. The landing-craft engines were louder now, as if they were straining under a heavy load. Porter opened fire, short bursts into the trees.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said. “Nothing else we can do here.”

We edged back, and I felt a gnawing sense of worry as we left our fate in the hands of a murderer.

At the river, it was chaos. One overloaded landing craft was hung up on the coral reef offshore. That was the revving engine we’d heard. A second LC was also crowded but pulling away, while the third was taking on the last of the men. The only good news was the two PT boats fast approaching. One of them was PT-59. Jack to the rescue.

“What’s happening up there?” Trent asked.

“They’re moving in again,” I said. “He can’t last long.”

A shrill whistling sound came from overhead.

“Take cover!” Trent shouted. An explosion shook the trees on the riverbank. Then two more mortar rounds hit the water, sending up harmless geysers. Harmless until they found their range. The machine gun was firing steadily now, and I wondered if Porter was making his last stand.

More rounds hit closer to us, and a couple of men went down, wounded by shrapnel.

“Lieutenant, can you go back up there and see what’s happening?” Trent asked. “I need to know if they’re closing in. I’ll send men up if we need to fight.”