Robert Conroy - 1945

The wind swirled and he thought he picked up movement in the distance, maybe a couple of hundred yards away. It couldn't be Kerns and Fellows, it was too broad a sensation.

But it couldn't be the Japs because they always began their attacks with yells and all kinds of noise to inspire them.

His mind raced. It couldn't be the Japs, could it?

Then he realized the cold truth: the Japs weren't yelling!

"They're coming," Collins blurted to Hanks, who immediately began making clicking sounds as fast as he could. Kerns and Fellows hadn't answered because they were dead. Now he had to recall his other men and get the hell back to Round Top. There was no time for a phone call to warn Morrell and the others. The Japs might be right on top of him in seconds. He simply began firing into the air. With all need for secrecy gone, the approaching Japanese began to scream and howl like a chorus of devils.

TOKYO

General Homma was frustrated. He was now the de facto premier of Japan and commander of all the empire's armed forces, yet he found himself unable to function effectively in either capacity. Once again his communications officer had sadly informed him that they were still unable to reach Sixteenth Area Army headquarters on Kyushu. Damn the Americans! If they wanted the war stopped, they had to let him restore some semblance of communications so that he could contact his commanders and tell them to cease firing.

He had just completed meeting with Admiral Ozawa, who had taken control of the Foreign Office, where he had ousted Tojo. Field Marshal Sugiyama had killed himself when confronted with arrest, while Admiral Toyoda had disappeared; thus, they had no serious rivals. Many peace-inclined diplomats had been arrested by the previous regime, while others were in hiding, but the remainder, such as Togo and Marquis Kido, were now frantically trying to make contact with the Americans. Ozawa was confident that the Potsdam Declaration could be utilized as a basis for ending the war on terms that would guarantee that the Japanese world would not disappear. It would be shameful, but better than dying uselessly.

Lt. Gen. Shiro Ishii knocked. He entered and bowed. Homma wanted to dislike Ishii for all the despicable things he had done with his chemicals and germs, but the little man with the thick mustache had performed an invaluable service by providing the means to eliminate Anami and would be compensated by being allowed to live. Ishii would disappear.

Homma drummed his fingers on his desk. "Have you stopped the gases?"

"Like you, I have been unable to raise General Yokoyama on Kyushu. I have been able to ascertain, however, that very little in the way of chemical shells or grenades actually made it across the straits to Kyushu, and absolutely none of the bombs. Most are still in vaults here on Honshu or were on boats sunk in the straits by American planes. I now doubt that more than a couple hundred chemical weapons are on Kyushu."

Homma did not consider this entirely good news. Even a little bit of gas used on the Americans might provoke a devastating reaction from them. It was imperative that they somehow reach General Yokoyama and cancel the final phase of Ketsu-go #6, the plans for the defense of Kyushu.

"What about the submarine?" Homma asked.

The submarine, one of the large R-class types, carried a floatplane in a waterproof deck-hangar. The sub had more than enough range to cross to North America. There its orders were to launch its plane, which would be loaded with a number of small ceramic bombs that carried plague-infested fleas kept alive in an oxygen mixture.

"It attempted to leave two days ago. It was sunk by American destroyers."

"Thank God," Homma said, and wondered why he wasn't distressed by the additional deaths.

America was civilized, clean, and possessed excellent medical facilities. After the initial terror, the plague would easily have been eliminated and would only have added to America's fury with Japan. The attempt to spread germs in America had been total madness.

A staff officer interrupted. His expression was one of deep relief. "General Homma, we have finally established contact with General Yokoyama."

Homma virtually ran to the radio set. The reception was weak and distorted by static, but he convinced General Yokoyama that he, not Anami or Sugiyama, was now in charge.

"General," Homma said, virtually yelling to be understood, "you must not use the gas shells you have received."

"I wasn't going to," Yokoyama answered. "Apart from the fact that such weapons are not an honorable means of waging war, there were too few of them to make a difference, and we have no real way of delivering them effectively. I had them put in a cave and the entrance sealed."

Wonderful, Homma thought, such good news. "Excellent. Now, it is imperative that all aspects of Ketsu-go be halted. Do you understand? You must not launch your attacks. Neither your army nor the remaining kamikazes must attack."

After prolonged silence, Homma thought he might have lost contact. Finally, General Yokoyama's voice came through faintly but distinctly.

"My dear General Homma. I deeply regret to inform you that the attacks are commencing as we speak and there is no way I can stop them. The soldiers are marching and the planes are now in the air. The arrow has been fired from the bow. It cannot be recalled."

ROUND TOP

Collins and Hanks narrowly avoided being shot by their own men as they crawled into the trenches on Round Top. Moments later, two more men from his outposts clambered in, their faces a mixture of relief and terror. No more followed, and it was reluctantly concluded that the four missing men were most likely dead.

"What did anybody see?" Morrell asked. "How many Japs are there?" The men, Collins included, shook their heads.

"We really didn't see much at all," Collins said. "Just a lot of commotion and noise." Behind and below them, the infernal shrieks continued, further emphasizing that no more Americans would be returning from the outposts around Mt. Ugly. "Sorry, Lieutenant, but we weren't in any position to hang around and count noses."

"They're going around us," Morrell muttered. "Open fire into the valley."

Gunfire rang out and rippled down the hill in all directions. It was a joy and a relief to be able to shoot. There was plenty of ammunition, and Morrell had earlier decided there was no point in saving it. Indirect fire against an unseen enemy was nowhere near as effective as shooting a target that was visible, but it would cause some casualties and maybe disrupt the Japs' plans. Similar firing could be heard from other American positions.

"Why aren't they coming?" someone yelled, and Morrell had to wonder as well. According to Collins, they'd been just a little behind him as he'd run for safety.

A Jap mortar shell exploded in their perimeter, followed by others. While they lacked heavy artillery, the Japanese had a large number of the extremely portable 50mm mortars and shells and were using them to effect.

Paul yelled for the company's own 60mm mortars to return fire and ordered the howitzers to open up as well. As the mortars responded, the sergeant in charge of the two pack howitzers told him the Japs were too close for him to shoot at. Effectively, they were under the barrels of his guns.

"They're hugging us," Morrell growled, and Sergeant Mackensen agreed. "Even if the weather breaks, nobody can help us."

Morrell tried division artillery and was told they were busy with other attacks, which he could now hear in the distance, and that the Japs were too close to his position to risk shelling blindly into the gloom and mist.

A plane hummed low overhead. It missed the hill by only a few feet. "Kamikaze!" someone yelled. Seconds later, there was a flash and the sound of an explosion behind them. The kamikaze had missed Round Top but had hit the hill behind them.