The Final Storm (31 page)

It would not be a mindless banzai attack. There was a plan, carefully structured, and despite Yahara’s grumblings, Ushijima had demanded his participation. Yahara was the best strategist in his army, and if the colonel did not believe in the plan, he was still obligated by duty and Ushijima’s order to help carry it out. For four days the troops had been prepared, the artillery furnished with as much ammunition as could be gathered, Japanese tanks put into position for the most effective strike they could launch. As the time drew closer, Ushijima had allowed himself some optimism, had accepted Cho’s suggestion for the banquet celebration as a tribute to the men who would put this plan into motion. For once Cho’s fire had warmed Ushijima to the possibility of success.

He glanced again at his watch. It could work, he thought. It is all we can do, and so it must work. Even Yahara will celebrate our success, will understand that sometimes we must do the outrageous, throw our sound, sensible strategies to the winds and do the unpredictable, the reckless. If it does not work … we are no worse off.

“Ah, General, here you are! You should come out and see these girls do their dance. I offer credit to the Okinawans. They show remarkable … um … flexibility.”

Cho’s shirt was partially open, his uniform a sloppy mess. He staggered slightly, steadied himself against the wooden beams that framed Ushijima’s doorway.

“I am quite satisfied to remain here. Thank you.”

“Oh, come, come, General! A little revelry is a wonderful tonic! And tomorrow there will be celebration like we have not yet seen! Victory is in the wind, I feel it! I smell it.” He hesitated, laughed, his knees giving way for a brief second. He tossed a wink toward Ushijima. “I have
tasted
it!” His laughter continued, and Ushijima smelled the party in the man’s clothes, perfume and alcohol, had all he could take.

“Please return to your revelries. I am fine here. I would rather sit alone, for now.”

Cho shrugged, sagged against the timbers.

“If you insist, sir. But we shall soon toast the emperor in his palace! There will be medals and gifts for us all. You will see! Ask your Colonel Yahara, the soft little man with all those papers. He will tell you, he will go behind my back as he always has, and he will tell you that I stood tall in front of my men and told them that I have wagered my life on their success! Victory is assured!”

Cho half fell back out of the doorway, disappeared into a chorus of happy calls. Ushijima closed his eyes, blew out a breath, tried to cleanse himself of Cho’s odor. A girl staggered past the doorway, stopped, seemed as inebriated as Cho, said something he couldn’t understand, a slur of words, then staggered away. I should not have allowed this, he thought. This is not a celebration, it is debauchery, and no matter what Cho says, the emperor would not find this appealing at all. He had nearly recovered from the effects of the sake, felt a wave of sadness. What we have done tonight is celebrate a
plan
. And if it is a good plan, then we shall die a little later. If it is a bad plan … then it will not matter. It is all we can do.

T
he artillery barrage began at four-fifty in the morning, a cascade of shells into the American position that was met at first by return fire from the American ships. But the Japanese guns did not do as they had done every day before. They did not fire a quick burst and then slide back into their holes. The guns stayed put, kept up their fire in a torrent of steel that caught the Americans by complete surprise. After more than an hour, the fire subsided, many of the guns exhausting their ammunition. But many more were silenced by the very act of keeping up their assaults. With the big guns staying outside the protection of their hiding places, their muzzle blasts offered the naval ships clear targets, and so frustrated American gunners suddenly had an opportunity they had never expected. For Ushijima’s artillery, the results were a disaster. Guided first by the flashes of fire, and then by the awakening daylight, the Americans pinpointed their targets so effectively that a majority of the largest artillery pieces were completely destroyed. All across the rugged hillsides, so much of the Japanese firepower that had devastated the American ground forces was now obliterated.

The same was true for the Japanese armor. The Japanese tanks were primitive compared to the Shermans, but any tank can be a deadly threat
to ground troops. As the Americans hunkered low in their foxholes, enduring the shelling from Japanese artillery, the Japanese tanks rolled forward to do their damage as well. But outside their cleverly designed cover, crossing open ground, they were no match for American anti-tank weapons, aided by more of the navy’s accurate fire. In a matter of hours, the bulk of Japanese armor charged with leading the counterattack had been destroyed.

As the Americans scrambled to react to the surprising change in Japanese tactics, the Japanese ground troops began their assault. At first daylight waves of men emerged from their perfect camouflage and swarmed headlong into the American positions. A few of the advances by individual regiments were effective, punching holes in the American lines, driving past stunned and panicked troops, pushing into supply depots and rear echelon positions. But those successes were few. As the Japanese troops rushed headlong into the guns of the Americans, most of them met the same fate as their armor. Entire units were virtually wiped out. Despite the enormous losses, the Japanese pushed forward for a full day and into the night. The next morning what was left of the Japanese offensive forces obeyed their officers, who obeyed the plan given them by General Cho. They attacked again. Though the tenacity of the Japanese impressed the Americans who faced them, the outcome was never in doubt.

B
ENEATH
S
HURI
C
ASTLE
,
T
HIRTY-SECOND
A
RMY
H
EADQUARTERS
, O
KINAWA
M
AY
5, 1945

He read the latest report, Yahara standing close, impatient.

“It is a disaster, sir! Here, look! Captain Oka reports his troops are completely surrounded. He does not expect to survive. It is the same in every part of the field. You must stop this!”

Ushijima looked at Yahara, a stern glare.

“You do not tell me what I must do.”

Yahara lowered his head.

“No, certainly not, General. Please forgive me.”

Ushijima looked at the others, the men standing alongside the map, no one speaking. The gloom was in all of them, the men who knew the reports, whose job it was to record the progress of the attack on the great map. But the men had been silent for some time now, nothing on the maps for them to change.

“Where is Cho?”

One of the aides close to the doorway said, “I will summon him, sir.”

“Yes, summon him.” He did not look at Yahara, said, “Return to your office. I will call for you shortly.”

Yahara made a quick short bow, was gone without a word. Ushijima saw the expectant looks on the faces of the aides, said, “I shall be in my room. When General Cho arrives, send him to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He moved out into the corridor, slipped quickly into his room, hesitated, leaned his back against the wood that lined his earthen walls. A hard knot rose in his throat, choking away the air, and he fought it, straightened, stretched, forced air into his lungs. He felt dizziness, pulled himself away from the wall, reached down, settled on the mat on the floor, his usual place. I need water, he thought. He knew the servants would hear him, but the words did not come, and he scolded himself, no, do not bother them. You should be made to suffer for this. Do not bother anyone. They all know what this day means.

“Sir! You sent for me?”

Cho stood stiffly in the doorway, and Ushijima said, “You were not in your office.”

“No. I was at the mouth of the great cave. The radio there continues to send in reports, though most of the reporting stations have been lost. So, General, is it time for us all to die?”

There was a strange levity in Cho’s voice, and Ushijima looked at him, saw the hint of a smile, said, “You are aware that we have not been successful?”

“I know our situation, General. If this is to be the end, then it is ordained for us to die together. I welcome my place at the great shrine. I have done my best for the emperor.”

Ushijima understood now, thought, so, he is abdicating any responsibility for our failures. This was all part of his glorious plan.

“General Cho, despite your eagerness to join your ancestors, I am not yet ready to die. There is still a fight to be had here, a duty to perform.”

“If you insist, sir.”

“I do insist. Return to your office. Remain there until I summon you again. I want you close, in the event our situation requires some immediate action.”

“Of course, sir.”

Ushijima heard the sarcasm in Cho’s show of obedience. He was gone now, and Ushijima felt the anger, Cho’s smugness digging into him. He tried to relax, stared at the bare floor, took several long breaths. The lump in his throat was growing, a pain in his chest, and he clenched his fists, no! I will not be a
victim
of this disaster! He continued to breathe heavily, the pain subsiding. Outside there were voices, and he waited, knew someone would appear. It was Yahara.

“Sir, we have received a report from Colonel Kujima. He has been forced to withdraw from his forward position. He claims he has no choice but to return to his original position.”

Ushijima thought of Kujima, another of the academy graduates.

“He is a good man. If he has withdrawn it is because it was the right thing to do. I will find no fault with him. With any of them. But this must end.” He paused, thought of Cho, the man’s eagerness to throw himself into the glorious abyss. No, I will not make it so easy for him. His plan did not work, but, still, he cannot be embarrassed. He would lose his effectiveness as a commander.

“Colonel Yahara, as you predicted, this offensive has been a total failure. Your judgment was correct. I am determined to stop this. You will see that my order to every field commander is communicated in the most effective way possible. I am ordering a … temporary halt to the offensive.” He paused, saw the undisguised anger on Yahara’s face. “You have been frustrated because you believe I have not used your talents wisely. In that you are correct. Sometimes a man in my position must do the unwise, in the hopes of a positive outcome. But I do not wish this army to commit meaningless suicide.”

Nothing in his words calmed the anger in Yahara’s eyes. He knew how valuable Yahara was, felt suddenly like the father who has disappointed the son. He avoided Yahara’s stare, said in a low voice, “What else would you have me do?”

Yahara did not respond, and Ushijima felt a sudden wave of emotion, tears in his eyes, the hard shell cracking for just a brief moment. He lowered his head, tried to hide it, said nothing for a long minute. Yahara waited patiently, and Ushijima felt the control returning.

“Our main force is largely spent. But our fighting strength remains. This army is loyal and dedicated to our cause. If we must, we will withdraw to the southernmost hills and make our final stand there. I will require
your assistance, Colonel. Your logistical skills will be crucial. Do you understand?”

“I do, sir.”

There was cold in Yahara’s words, and Ushijima still avoided his stare.

“I want you to see to our position as it stands now, and draw in our lines to the best possible defense. The Americans will come again, and this time they know we are wounded. Make the best use of those assets we have, most especially this ground.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Is General Cho in his office?”

“I just saw him, yes, sir.”

Ushijima nodded, knew that Cho’s proximity meant that he had heard everything Ushijima had just said. He glanced that way, toward the wall, thought, he is standing close, making sure he misses nothing. Good.

“I am not ready to end this fight, Colonel. I was sent here with specific orders that we not destroy this army by engaging in one massive suicidal charge. Those kinds of attacks are no longer appropriate, and as you know, they do nothing at all to bring victory.” He raised his voice, aimed the words at the ears of Cho. “A
military
victory.” He paused. “We have one duty now, to kill as many of the enemy as it is possible to kill. I am counting on you to see that we accomplish that.”

“I understand, sir.”

There was a commotion behind Yahara, an aide, holding a piece of paper. The man seemed agitated, excited, and Ushijima said, “What is it?”

The man stepped into the room, tried to hold himself at attention, his energy making that impossible.

“Here, sir! A message has just come through from the Imperial High Command.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

The man held out the folded paper, and Yahara took it, passed it on to Ushijima without looking at it. Ushijima opened the paper, read.

He stared at the message, the characters blurring, felt the tears returning, a mix of sadness and overwhelming anger. He crumpled the paper in his hands, threw it hard against the wall.

N
ORTH OF THE
A
SA
K
AWA
R
IVER
, O
KINAWA
M
AY
8, 1945

T
he rains had come again the day before, and with so much of the vegetation and clusters of trees already destroyed, the ground and the roads that cut through the countryside were becoming a sea of deepening mud. The Sixth had advanced southward into an area vacated by the First Division, those Marines moving more to the east. Beyond the east flank of the First, two of the American army divisions, the Seventy-seventh and Ninety-sixth, held the ground all the way to the far coast. There had been more griping about that, so many of the Marines insultingly dismissive of the army’s work, but the infantry who stood beside them had nothing to be embarrassed about. Throughout May 4 and 5, the unexpected Japanese counterattack had been directed mostly into army positions, and despite low expectations from the Marines, the army had held their ground with as much ruthlessness as the Marines themselves. No one in the front lines knew how badly the Japanese had spent themselves, and how many more of the enemy still waited in their hiding places among the low hills. But the army units were just as prepared to resume their forward advance as the fresher Marines who had moved in alongside them.