Yasuyuki Kasai - Dragon of the Mangroves

Just as expected, Jinno had been sticking to MG Company HQ, the comparatively safer spot. He hadn’t given even one word of comfort to his subordinates who had survived and traveled from the hard-fought battlefield of Mountain Maeda.

Not only that, he had called them all kinds of names for having discarded their machine gun. Abruptly, he had given them a new shifting order to Yanthitgyi.

Haphazardly, Tomita Squad had been forced to go back fruitlessly to Yanthitgyi Hill 604 located further west of Hill 509—arriving there on February 12, the next day.

Kasuga took out his mess kit from a niche dug inside his foxhole at Yanthitgyi Hill 604 and put Hirono’s ashes in the inner tray beneath the cover. The mess kit was one piece of equipment he would never throw away, no matter how the war situation might deteriorate.

Kasuga put it back in the niche and looked around the mud wall. He had dug that foxhole by himself in a hurry amid the shower of hostile shells, just after he and his colleagues had moved around from one place to another and finally gotten to Hill 604. He had never dreamed he would spend four days here. He took advantage of the rain squall, which nicely softened the soil three days before, making it more comfortable. No orders came, and he had nothing else to do.

“How long should we stay here, Sarge? Tell me if you know something about the war situation,” Kasuga said.

Tomita was on the way out of the foxhole, but he looked back. Serenity appeared on his face.

“To tell you the truth,” Tomita explained, “garrison HQ decided that we, Second Battalion, would evacuate Ramree Island and go back to the continent.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, HQ released a damn order to remain and keep guerilla wars here, but it was pulled back. The evacuation is an official decision.”

If Hirono were still alive, he would weep for joy. Though it was hard to believe, Kasuga also found some indications that it might be true.

The hostile bombardment hadn’t been so fierce, unlike the Battle of Mountain Maeda when they got to Yanthitgyi. He thought maybe it was a result of Japanese resistance. Ramree Garrison was one battalion—it might be like ants trying to fight against an elephant, compared with the overwhelming firepower and material superiority of British-Indian forces. But nearly as many as a thousand men were still guarding that island. Kasuga didn’t think they had ever suffered enough damage to lose power of the systematized resistance. Apparently, the garrison was holding back its counterattack.

Tomita squatted down in front of him again and talked in an unusual, grave tone. But his face showed joy. “Have you ever thought why MG Company HQ is in Saikpya, and we’re here in Yanthitgyi now?”

“No, I’ve not.”

“Both places face the continent. You know? If we’re to keep fighting more, we should position toward Payadgi Plain. It has many strategic points, including Ramree Town. Frankly, we must defend this area in the first place.”

“But we are sending out raiders to enemy positions every night, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but it’s a matter of form to look good. There’s no bloody fool who will take it serious when the top is planning to run away to the continent.”

“From where?”

“The starting point of this withdrawal operation will be here in Yanthitgyi.

The strait is narrowest here. After it takes as many soldiers as possible in Saikpya, MG Company will head for Yanthitgyi with other troops. That’s why Binchoku made us come here first as heralds. Binchoku probably judged that going to Saikpya would be for nothing. He’s surely a witty guy, the slyest dog in the country.”

“Do you mean the whole MG Company will come here after all?”

“Yeah, exactly. Binchoku might have said he’d dispatched an advance party of his own free will, or something to that effect, to make his point again. But it was good for you as well to have escaped carrying the baggage of HQ, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. But I can’t even imagine how we will sail across to the continent. Do we have any boats?”

“A flotilla of about a hundred fishing boats was to come and rescue us in the night of February 11. I heard several Nakajima type one fighters also mobilized to attack Engli destroyers blockading the strait.”

Kasuga remembered hearing the buzz of planes at midnight on the very day when he had squatted down in a trench of the all-round defense position in Hill 509. He thought hearing the buzz of planes curious, because he knew enemy planes didn’t usually perform night attacks. But he never expected that it was friendly aircraft. He had seldom seen Japanese planes on Ramree Island, to say nothing of hearing them. He had no way of telling the difference.

“What has become of the boats?” asked Kasuga.

Tomita mumbled, “Well, I’ve heard Engli gunboats were lurking in the shadows…”

“I see.”

“…and sent them all to the bottom.”

“Oh, no!”

Kasuga felt low. The way things stood, a withdrawal operation like that would be nothing more than a pie in the sky. Tomita must have noticed Kasuga’s thoroughly disheartened expression, because his tone of voice softened and regained its usual friendly manner.

“Don’t worry, Kasu. It’s not more than a creek through mangroves, though everybody calls it a sea. They say Myinkhon Creek is so shallow that we can wade it across when the tide is down. Anyway, we will have no problem swimming across when it comes to the push. We don’t need those sick boats.”

Suddenly, a sharp voice came into the foxhole. “Sergeant Tomita of Machine Gun Fifth Platoon. Where are you?” somebody was yelling outside.

The voice had the authoritative tone of an officer. The troop positioned around Yanthitgyi Hill 604 was the old Sixth Company, but the voice was unfamiliar.

Tomita hung his head and sighed. Patting Kasuga’s shoulder, he agilely jumped out of the foxhole and vanished into the nearby jungle.

Kasuga resumed hulling rice and ruminated over the conversation. Tomita, as an NCO, knew more than most. It was probably true that the evacuation to the continent was going on. But Kasuga wondered what an army could do when they plunged into the sea without boats. He had never seen Myinkhon Creek. He couldn’t guess whether wading was easily possible without knowing how deep and wide the creek was.

“Hey, Kasu. Prepare for mobilization. Hull your rice later.”

He looked up and saw Tomita again. It hadn’t been more than five minutes since he had left. It seemed an emergency had arisen.

Kasuga hastily gathered his equipment. Scraping up his only three grenades, he ran after Tomita.

Tada and Kayama were already waiting for them at the hem of the jungle.

Tomita Squad assembled in full force after a four-day interval. Tomita started a briefing in a more formal tone than usual.

“First Lieutenant Kishimoto, the Fifth Company commander, has been missing in action since he went reconnoitering Myinkhon Creek a few days ago.

From now until tomorrow at daybreak, we are to set out in search of him. However, we have no hope during the night. So we must find him before dark.” It was nearly four o’clock, so not so much time was left until sunset.

“How are the enemy’s movements in Myinkhon Creek?” Kasuga asked. He couldn’t restrain his uneasiness.

“There is no potent enemy around. But we may encounter gunboats patrolling creeks. All of you must look out for them.”

“Why do we HMG men have to search for the rifle company commander?

What is the command section of Fifth Company doing now?” Kayama inquired.

This spectacled, fat soldier was always candid.

Tada added, “This is the responsibility of Sixth Company in the first place, isn’t it? Those riflemen of Sixth should go first.”