Yasuyuki Kasai - Dragon of the Mangroves

From the outset, they were fighting a tough war. He could accept death by any bullet. No doubt, it was a death in battle. He could call it even glorious, so long as a warrior met his end in a battle. He could accept death from disease: malaria, dengue fever, amebic dysentery, or jungle rot. Almost all were nearly unavoidable. They had trodden on this tropical land of miasma with full aware-ness of these from the outset. Hygiene was bad, and medicine was poor. What they could do was limited in this situation. It was the grim reality here.

These men, lying in wait to be picked at by vultures, had fallen prey to crocodiles. What kind of death is that? Man is the lord of creation; he was taught so.

They were said to be the subjects of the indestructible land of gods. Each is a dear son, a sweet lover, or a breadwinning father back in the homeland. And yet, they met their ends in the teeth of those scaly reptiles, and will be pecked by the company of birds of prey. Sumi had no idea how he could accept it.

And he probably wasn’t the only one. None of the victims had probably ever dreamed he would meet his end that way. They all died without the least bit of time to consider or accept this fate.

If people plunge into the creek where ferocious carnivores are roaming around in groups, such a result is almost inevitable. Why did nobody realize it? What the hell was HQ thinking?

After all, it ordered that reckless operation without the slightest research on crocodiles. It wasn’t only crocodiles; the same with mangroves, Burmese culture, and climate. Had anything been well researched in advance? They had scorned British-Indian forces as no more than humble colony guards. That underestimate

invited this hard reality. In the end, they found themselves driven into a place almost outside the human world—and devoured by crocodiles.

There exist many hells never foreseeable for the haughty brass under camp curtains. This time, once again, the lives of the rank and file were simply thrown into one of the hells.

“Why do we repeat such absurdities over and over?” Sumi asked himself.

Sumi didn’t know where he should direct the brunt of his anger. Should it be at the regiment commander, the division commander, or the Imperial HQ? He didn’t even have the foggiest idea who was the most responsible.

The water washing his feet drained into Myinkhon Creek. And Myinkhon

Creek drained into the Bay of Bengal. And the Bay of Bengal opened into vast-nesses of the Indian Ocean. Then the water changed into rain and came down at his feet again. Reminded of such an endless chain, Sumi became further confused. But he understood one thing for certain.

Crocodiles were said to be the vassals of Sebek, the ancient deity. Egyptian civilization was out of his field of specialty. Sebek, the crocodile-headed deity, hadn’t rung a bell.

But now he understood it clearly. To be thrown into a group of crocodiles was war itself. Sebek came and went freely between this world and the next, and governed the night and the darkness. And that’s not all. It also governed wars that engulf humanity. Sebek was the god of war.

A determination struck him, and Sumi called Sergeant Shimizu. “Come on over, Sarge.”

Shimizu exited the elongated column behind Sumi, looking uncertain about this sudden call. Sumi handed the worn-out map to him and said, “With this, you can guide the troop to Uga, can’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Shimizu asked back.

“You can make it unobserved if you go along the foothills. We don’t look like soldiers anymore. Even if enemies spot you, they can’t see through your disguise very easily. And you can even fight if push comes to shove. Mediocre enemies can’t beat your men to a pulp as long as you command.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Now I leave this rescue party to your command. Let the fleet leave port as soon as you arrive at Uga. Don’t worry about what happens after you leave here.

Make Taungup, no matter what. You can do it!” Sumi said and saw Shimizu become dumbfounded.

“What do you mean I can do it? What the hell are you talking about? What will you do?” Shimizu asked.

“I will remain here to keep rescuing. First of all, I will go to Hill 604 to search for strays there,” answered Sumi.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“What will you do for boats then, if you can find any?”

“You saw all those local fishing boats in Uga, didn’t you? I’ll requisition those.

Or I’ll let guys make rafts, even if I can’t. These men are too few for me, in any case. I’m the head of this rescue troop. It doesn’t make sense for me to leave without saving more.”

“It’s you who doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not. Don’t you see that it’s a drop in a bucket?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why are you saying this out of the blue?”

“Because many soldiers are probably still hiding in the mountains. I’ll ferret them out, wherever they are, and take them to the continent.”

“All right, I will remain with you. No way I’m going to leave you alone.”

“No! Don’t do that. Some of these men will surely die unless they get to a hospital, you know? I’m asking you to take them back with you first.”

“Then you’d better come with us all. How much do you think you can do alone here?” said Shimizu, looking bewildered. He seemed unable to gauge this sudden change in his ever-cowardly commander.

“Murakami was shot and killed,” continued Sumi.

“I know that.”

“Guys here were killed and eaten by crocs!”

“Then what?”

Their exchange of sharp words had tensed up members of the rescue party behind the two. It wasn’t unusual for them to hear arguments between their platoon commander and squad leader. But they had never witnessed a grave one like this.

“Many guys hiding in the mountains haven’t been shot by Engli and haven’t been injured by crocs.”

“Are you going to try to save all of them? You’ll never finish it.”

“Take the guys we picked up back to the continent. I’m just going to pick up as many more as possible. It’s a general plan. Somebody has to remain here to do this. I’m the commander, and I have information given by the infantry regiment. There is no end unless I go myself.”

“No, I oppose it. You’ll never finish it. What you have to do is go back to Taungup without making a fuss. We’ve done our duty.” Now even Shimizu, the active and bold veteran, wanted to leave. It was rare, but natural. Slowly Sumi opened his mouth, staring at Shimizu, whose usual vitality had gotten lost somewhere.

“Enough of your nagging. Do you disobey my order here once again? Huh?”

Shimizu glared back at him, but the hostile exchange soon ended. Shimizu withdrew first. He might have read the firm resolution of his commander, and his reply carried some mildness. “All right, Lieutenant. But I feel still uneasy about leaving you alone. You should take Takahashi, your batman, with you, though it’s no use saying it now. Hey, Pondgi! Come here right now!”

Pondgi stepped forward, smiling.

Shimizu said to him, “Take care of the lieutenant from now on. Have you got it, Pondgi?”

“Yes, Master Shimizu.”

Just behind Pondgi, Yoshitake stuck his head out and presented his Sten gun to Sumi. “Please, carry this if you go, Lieutenant. It’s the best I can do.”

“What will you do for your weapon? No way I’m going to leave our best crack shot unarmed,” Sumi said.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve found a guy with a model ninety-six light machine gun among those battered infantrymen chased into the trees. I’m going to borrow it from him.”