Yasuyuki Kasai - Dragon of the Mangroves

“Neither can I,” Kasuga said. “But it’s natural, as we’re forced to break through enemy lines twice. You can make it to the continent so long as you do what Sarge says. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling something bad is going to happen.”

Kasuga lapsed into silence. Now he knew it was not a fever that caused his chill. Tada wasn’t the only one. He also had a bad premonition. Heartless words wouldn’t allay the instinctive fear.

Kasuga looked up at countless sparkling stars. He didn’t notice, but the moon had already set, and the darkness had deepened. Then Tomita’s command went up. “Everybody prepare for crossing!”

The hectic atmosphere returned. Kasuga heard the distant crack of a rifle on their left just as he was about to take off his shirt. It was from the direction of their starting point the night before. The stuttering of a machine gun immediately followed, as if it was responding to the rifle.

Kasuga jumped to his feet and ran to the edge to get a better view. He found a parachute flare floating in midair and emitting the bluish light. Crowns of trees, thick with foliage, were dyed in brilliant green. The gun reports continued. Shells sometimes howled and exploded just after the high-pitched discharging sounds of a mortar. The air trembled with the violent roar every time. There was no doubt about what was going on in the northwest a few kilometers away. Friends were getting mauled there. It was likely that an enemy had spotted and battered some unit trying to evacuate from the same point as the day before.

The enemy troop had even brought a mortar from the rear. It proved that a land force with considerable power had advanced. The enemy tenaciously sought to destroy Ramree Garrison, already thoroughly ruined. They had no time to lose now.

Their one and only good fortune was that they had not yet seen a gunboat, even under the brightness of the flare. The surface of Myinkhon Creek was deathly still, quite contrary to the din of fire. Another friendly unit had drawn the enemies’ attention. Now was the perfect time.

Slipping out of his clothes except for his fundoshi, Kasuga hung the haversack from his shoulder instead of tying it to the pole and couched the bamboo pole like a spear. The rubber pouch holding the precious grenades was tucked away in his sack. But he knew he could not ignite those on the water. Fleeing was the priority anyway.

“Now, listen! Once you get in the water, drain every ounce of your strength into swimming across to Leikdaung Island!” Tomita addressed everybody. He was standing at the edge. His expression was sincere and frank, as usual.

In spite of the darkness, Kasuga could see it well.

“May the god of war be with you all. Be sure to meet up at Taungup again. I’ll buy you all drinks then. All right. Let’s get going!” Tomita said to Kasuga and Tada. The three remaining members of Tomita Squad hugged each other.

“Sarge and Mister Kasuga, I appreciate everything you ever did for me,” Tada said, his voice was trembling.

“Don’t say it yet,” said Kasuga. “We’ve gotten down to business, so spare it for later, Tada! Sarge, I trust Hirono’s ashes to you in case I’m killed first.”

“You idiot! Don’t say anything that brings bad luck,” Tomita barked. “We three stay together now for the tough part. Bear in mind we all should get back to Taungup alive—no, to Japan—whatever happens!”

The three had survived together to this point by some means or another.

Many memories rushed forward, but they had no time to indulge in them. With Tomita at the top and Tada at the tail, they ran after the queue of the others.

The guy leading the unit had already gotten into the hip-deep water about thirty meters ahead. Judging from his wiry, firm body, he must be Sergeant Steel Bar. He steadily pushed through the water with the firm step suitable of a veteran NCO. Kasuga was reminded of a flock of waterfowl by the procession of men tailing meekly, including the mentally broken-down probationary officer.

The incessant gunfire showed no signs of stopping. The battlefield was on the other side of the cove. They couldn’t get details because the mangrove jutted out into the creek and blocked their view. The only thing they could see was the treetop of the left mangrove glowing intermittently from a large number of flares and star shells. Sometimes the flares and shells swerved from their courses and came toward them, and the daylight-like brightness illuminated the area and made the scenery clear. All could be over in an instant if an enemy lurked nearby.

The cove was unexpectedly shallow for some distance. They had to walk a long way in the water before they could swim freely. When the water reached his belly, Kasuga bent forward and soaked himself in to his shoulders to minimize his exposure to any hostile eyes; other soldiers followed his lead.

No one had gotten a haircut since the Battle of Ramree broke out. Covered with unkempt hair, the head of each man looked like a bird’s nest. The scene seemed like drifting trash, and some algae and seaweed hung in their hair, making it still filthier. Kasuga thought it was a first-rate camouflage, by good fortune.

It would be hard to see it as a human head at a glance, even if a flare should shine on it.

But the enemy aiming at them now was less dependent on eyesight than he thought. Of course, it wasn’t the British-Indian forces. Even worse, it wasn’t human.

Kasuga heard a sharp plop, like the sound of a fish leaping out of water behind him. Looking back to see what it was, he noticed Tada had disappeared. The water wasn’t so deep yet; the surface fell at his stomach when he straightened his back. He restlessly looked around to find Tada but couldn’t find anything except for a little swirl about a meter across on the surface. When he saw only the bamboo pole tied up with the now masterless model thirty-eight rifle drifting hollowly, he couldn’t help giving a call. “Hey, Tada! Where are you?”

Tomita looked back at once and asked, “Shit! What’s the matter?” His voice carried an irritation.

The baffled Kasuga answered, “Tada is missing.”

“Where could he have gone?”

“I don’t know. Did he drown?”

“What? I’ll kick your ass if you keep standing here like a dolt. It’s still too shallow to drown. Our feet are still touching the bottom. What’s all this about? Explain right now!”

“He was already missing when I looked back.”

Where on earth had Tada gone? He should have picked himself up quickly if he had toppled from losing his footing. No less than a minute had passed since he disappeared.

Kasuga was just about to call Tada again when a loud scream went up from the front. Kasuga and Tomita froze and looked at each other. After a very short period of time, another cry rose again from the same direction. They couldn’t figure out what all this commotion was. But something clearly had driven some of the men into a frenzy. Finally someone started firing.

Successive gunshots deafened Kasuga. Around the bust-like figures of soldiers on the surface, he happened to find many pairs of small red things dimly glowing in the muzzle flash.

Tomita showed open anger. “Bastards! What the hell are you doing in the middle of enemies?”

Tomita began paddling through the water when a crackle of parachute flare came down on them all. And the luminosity, almost like sunlight, enveloped the surroundings. It was so dazzlingly bright, it caused Kasuga to squint.

As far as he could see, mangroves, all as green and bright as new foliage, rimmed the basin. The scenery was probably unchanged since the beginning of time. It was the most remote place for human warfare in a sadly beautiful world.

Then Kasuga saw a strange spectacle—the soldiers kept firing into the breast-deep water. What on earth were they firing at? As if mad, each man was squeezing the trigger toward the surface where nothing could be seen. The next moment, Kasuga witnessed one of them disappearing from sight with a jerk.