1945

"Not so fast," Nomura said. "Is it clear who is in charge of this operation?"

Swain thought of making a smart-ass remark, but even in the gloom he saw the hard look in Nomura's eyes. "You are, sir."

"Good. The sub is still waiting for the rafts to return, isn't it?"

"Yes. While eight of my men remain here, the others take the rafts back where they can be taken back on board the sub and stowed. That way there's no chance that they'll wash onshore and be discovered."

A small touch, but a smart one, Joe thought. He gestured to De

Swain blinked. "That wasn't in the plan."

"Plans change, Ensign."

"Indeed they do, sir. May I ask why?"

"Two reasons. First, De

"There's a second reason," Joe continued. "There are some extremely important things about this operation that the top command has to know about, and they can't be trusted to radio. The message must be delivered in person. When your men return to the sub, the captain will be made to understand that he must rendezvous with a seaplane to get Captain Chambers to Okinawa as soon as possible."

"Understood," said Swain. The rafts were empty and ready to pull out with two paddlers each.

De

De

De

The water in front of them seemed to boil slightly as the submarine rose from periscope depth. Seconds later, the raft bumped gently alongside her hull. As hands reached to pull De

Chapter 67

Major Ruger and Paul Morrell stood to attention as Brigadier General Monck entered the battalion's command tent. "At ease, fellas, relax," Monck said. An easy grin split his face.

As a platoon leader, Paul had only met Monck on a couple of occasions and hadn't even talked to the man since becoming company commander.

He did know Monck's reputation as a firm but fair commander who didn't care much for the formalities of rank, particularly in these circumstances.

Major Ruger caught Paul's discomfort. "The lieutenant really doesn't think he did anything special. After all, he was primarily interested in saving his worthless ass and not wi

Monck laughed. "Well, his ass isn't all that worthless." The general reached into a fatigue-jacket pocket and pulled out a small package. "Here. The powers that be have determined that your coolheadedness under fire deserves a Bronze Star. Congratulations, Lieutenant."

"I really don't think I should have this, sir," Paul said as Monck placed the box in his hand.

Monck looked at him coolly, but with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I'm not surprised you said that. A lot of people do when they see a medal. But the truth is, you do deserve it, and certainly more so than some of the politicians who get honors for being on the same continent as a battle."

"But why, sir? I just did my job."

"That's right, son. All you did was your job. But you didn't have to do your job, did you? You could have laid on the ground until somebody else did his own job and killed the sniper. Or you could have hid until it got dark and then you could have skulked away and let somebody else figure out how to get rid of the bastard, if he hadn't already fled the coop so he could do it again. By that time who knows how much damage even a half-starved little kid could have done. No, you did exactly what you were supposed to do, which is solve the problem, and that, young Lieutenant Morrell, is precisely why you are getting this medal. You did your job and you did it well."

Paul nodded and took the box. He put it in his own pocket. It would be examined later. "Then thank you, sir."

Monck shook Paul's hand. Paul was astonished at the strength of the grip. "Lieutenant, this may not seem like much now, but it means a lot to your men to know that people like me have confidence in people like you. A few years from now, maybe a lot of years from now, you'll take it out and show it to your kids. You'll be proud of it and they'll be proud of you."

Paul finally gri

Monck laughed while, in the background, Ruger rolled his eyes in mock horror. Monck's expression changed as he unfolded a map and spread it on the table. He was no longer laughing.

"Gentlemen, along with giving Mr. Morrell his medal, I am visiting all my battalion commanders to make sure they understand precisely what is going on."

Paul asked if he should leave and Monck said no. "This'll save the major a trip if you hear it from me. What has been rumored is now going to occur. Effective immediately, the U.S. Army and Marines on Kyushu are to cease offensive operations and dig in. General Bradley and Admiral Nimitz feel that we have accomplished our purpose, and that we now own enough Jap real estate to use as a base for the next phase, the invasion of Honshu.

"As a result, you are to entrench and prepare to hold the ground we have. The only actions you will take will be patrols to make sure the Japs haven't organized an army just over the next ridge. What I think will happen is that the Japs, once they realize we've gone to ground, will attack the first time the weather gives them an opportunity. Bradley thinks that will be their last great attempt to drive us out of here."

Instinctively, all three men looked out through the tent's opening. It was cloudy and there was a light drizzle. It was not quite bad enough to ground air support or hamper artillery, but the January weather was far from ideal.

"Bradley feels that the Japs will attack just like the Germans did in the Bulge a year ago December," Monck added. "I agree. They will try to hug us real close so our planes and guns, even those that do get off, will be unable to bomb or fire because the Japs are too close to us."

The other men nodded silent agreement. What was referred to as hugging had been standard operating procedure for the Japs on the defensive ever since the Americans had landed. That they would try it while on the offensive was something new and unpleasant to ponder.

"Will they have enough to hit us with?" Ruger asked. "If that sniper's condition is any indication, the Japs are in pretty bad shape."