Battlefield Pacific

Pacific Prep

Looking over the Marines of Echo Company, Captain Long felt a great sense of pride in his men as they sat in a semicircle in front of him. He had worked hard drilling them during SOI and getting them ready for war. Thousands of Marines from the 6^th Marine Division had filtered into the South Pacific as US forces continued to build up for the eventual invasion of the Philippines and Taiwan. While the Navy continued to clear them a path to the enemy, the Marines were ramping up their training and preparation for the coming battle.

Captain Long’s Marines were nearly ready for battle, and it was time to fine-tune some of their individual skills that would help to keep them alive. “Listen up, Marines,” he said. “Whether we hit the beaches or fight our way through the jungles of the Philippines or the mountains of Taiwan, you’re going to need to know how to shoot accurately under pressure and not freak out. Today, we find ourselves on the North Field of Tinian Island. This field was used to house the 313th Bombardment Wing, the same bomb wing that carried out the atomic bombing of Japan. It was from this island that the war in the Pacific was won, and it will be from this island that our generation will end this terrible war with the Eastern Alliance.”

Long could tell by looking at the crowd before him that he had them fired up, so he pressed in. “Today’s training will focus on a couple of critically important skills, which I can attest from my own combat experiences are vital to your survival and our success. We’re going to run through a series of firing drills. In the first drill, you will have to hit targets from five meters, fifteen meters, thirty meters, fifty meters, and one hundred meters while one of the Ranger officers fires a M240 and an M2 several feet over your heads. I want you to hear it and know what it’s like to have to shoot your weapons while under fire, to feel that pressure to hit the target. You’ll also go through a series of magazine-changing drills while under fire. When the crap hits the fan, it’s going to get crazy, and you need to know how to react under immense pressure. With that said, I’m going to hand you over to the range control officers, and I’ll continue to monitor everyone’s progress.”

The rest of the day was spent running his company through a series of challenging shooting exercises and identifying those soldiers who would need extra training and those who were going to thrive on the pressure. This type of exercise was designed to get them truly ready for what they would ultimately have to face when it came time to evict the PLA from the Philippines and Taiwan.

Two weeks went by as the Marines continued to train their units relentlessly in preparation for the final assault. Then, the word finally came down that it was time to retake the Pacific.

Captain Long walked through row after row of tents until he came to the tent that was being used as the brigade’s headquarters and operations center. He walked up to the entrance and made his way in to find Colonel Micah Tilman’s office. He quickly noticed a lot of the other company and battalion commanders in the tent as well.

“Maybe this was changed to more of a group presentation,” thought Long.

A couple of minutes went by before they were led further back into the tent to a small group of chairs and a map board with a lot of Post-it notes and other markings. The board was quickly flipped over to present a blank whiteboard, which Long assumed would be used as the backdrop for a PowerPoint presentation.

Walking to the front of the group, Colonel Tilman cleared his throat. “OK, men, it’s finally happening. We’ve been given our orders to attack. While many of you knew we’d invade soon, most of you had no idea where we would be attacking. The 6th Marine Division has been given the task of liberating the main Philippine Island of Luzon, and as such, our brigade will be assaulting the beach area around Dingalan, roughly twenty kilometers from the Philippine base at Fort Mag, where we’ve previously trained at in the past with the Filipino Army.”

Turning to his aide, he signaled for the PowerPoint presentation to start. “As you can see, we will be hitting the beaches along this section.” Tilman pointed to a series of beach resorts and a tourist town that led along Dingalan-Gabaldon Road, which snaked its way through several miles of the Minalungao National Park.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” he said bluntly. “This is some tough and rugged terrain we’ll have to truck through to get to our objective. By road, we’re looking at 71 kilometers. If we go through the national park, we cut that down by two-thirds, but it’s tough going — lots of jungle and no roads — which also means no support vehicles.”

Someone in the crowd let out a grunt. Colonel Tilman ignored it and continued. “We’re going to approach this a couple of ways. 1st Battalion will go ashore with their amtracks and will lead the way up through the road with armor support. 2nd Battalion is going to be flown indirectly via our Ospreys and other helicopters to assault Fort Mag directly and capture the airstrips there. 3rd Battalion is going to be held in reserve and will be sent in one company at a time to reinforce whichever battalion appears to be hitting the most resistance.”

“Now, we could also get lucky and have an unopposed landing. The enemy may, for whatever reason, determine that they would rather fight us further inland — in which case we’ll be able to secure our objective quickly and capture Fort Mag without much fanfare. Keep in mind, once we do land, our orders may change quickly, and we may need to adjust accordingly,” Tilman explained. “If you have further questions, please stay behind and ask them. Otherwise, get your commands ready to move and I’ll see you guys at Fort Mag. We board the ships in twelve hours, and we launch the attack in two days.”

With that, the meeting was dismissed.

Three days later, Captain Tim Long was packed into a V-22 Osprey with several of his men and all their body armor, gear and weapons. The air was oppressively hot and humid as it rushed through the various openings of the helicopter. Within minutes of the tiltrotor aircraft being loaded, the pilots gave the engines more power and the aircraft lifted off from the USS America, joined by dozens of other Ospreys and attack helicopters as they turned toward the shores of Luzon and the enemy that was waiting for them.

Long caught a glance outside through the tail ramp and was impressed with what he saw. Arrayed below them were dozens of US warships disembarking thousands of Marines to head toward the shores and establish the all-important beachhead. There were also rows of V-22 Ospreys and many other helicopters moving toward land and their various objectives. He hadn’t spotted any sign of opposition just yet, but that wasn’t to say the Chinese weren’t lying in wait for them once they set down.

One of the crew chiefs leaned toward Captain Long. He spoke loudly to be heard over the noise of the chopper. “We’re ten minutes out, Sir. The base should be off to our right when we approach it,” he said.

Long hoped that the Air Force had cleared the area of any possible air-defense vehicles. “This landing could get rough,” he thought.

Just then, a string of green tracers flew past their Osprey, and the pilots banked hard to one side to avoid flying into the next stream of them. Tim turned and saw a concerned look on the tail gunner as he readied his weapon to engage the enemy.

The Osprey jinked hard to the left, just in time for Captain Long to see another string of green tracers fly past them so close that he felt like he could reach out and touch them with his hand. Looking past the tail gunner, he saw one of the Ospreys move away from one string of enemy fire, only to fly right into the path of another. It was a horrific crash; the front section of the tilt-wing aircraft was shredded, causing it to fall quickly to the ground and explode.

No sooner had that happened than he saw two missiles streak in toward a pair of Super Cobra attack helicopters, which were now speeding ahead to engage the enemy anti-air-defenses. One of the helicopters pulled up hard, spitting out a shower of bright red flares to throw off the enemy missiles while the second helicopter turned hard to the right and attempted to dive away from the threat. The one that dove to the ground was obliterated by the enemy missiles in an enormous fiery blast, while the one that pulled up hard and dispensed flares lived to fight on.

“We’re coming into a hot LZ! Everyone out as fast as you can!” yelled the crew chief. At this point, everyone was just praying they would live long enough to get off the flying death trap. At least on the ground, they had a chance of killing the person shooting at them.

Less than a minute after the crew chief’s warning, the Osprey flared, pulling its nose up and dropping its tail to bleed off speed and position themselves to land. Then they landed with a thud, and the crew chief shouted, “Get off this bird now!”

Long quickly lifted himself off the cargo net seat and followed the rest of his men out the back of the aircraft. Once outside, he witnessed pure chaos happening all around them.

While maybe a dozen Ospreys had managed to land on the airfield of Fort Mag, two of them were now burning wrecks. Long looked to the left toward the few hangars at the base and quickly found the source of their problems. A Type 95 self-propelled antiaircraft artillery vehicle was nestled just slightly behind the hangar, firing dozens of 25mm projectiles at the troop transports flying in to secure the airfield.

Turning to find the senior NCO near him, he pointed at the enemy gun, yelling, “Gunny, get your men together and take that gun out ASAP!”

The gunnery sergeant saw what Long had pointed at and nodded. Then he signaled for the Marines near him to follow him forward. Once they started running in that direction, several enemy machine-gun positions spotted them and laid down suppressive fire to help protect the vehicle. The Marines dropped down in the drainage ditch between the runway and the taxiway to use the slight indentation in the ground as cover.

A couple of the M240 gunners returned fire, sending hundreds of rounds at the enemy so they would have to keep their heads down. In the short reprieve, a small group of Marines jumped up and headed for the next position they could use for cover. While the heavy gunners were giving covering fire, one of the Marines, who had been lugging an antitank rocket, dropped down below the lip of the ditch and unstrapped the rocket from the side of his pack. After checking it over briefly to make sure it was ready, he got up on one knee, placed the rocket on his right shoulder and took aim at the vehicle. He turned briefly to check his back blast to make sure no one was directly behind him, and then he flicked the safety off and depressed the trigger. In a split second, the rocket raced out of the tube and headed right for the Type 95 antiair gun. The rocket flew true and slammed into the side of the vehicle, causing it to explode.

The Marines who had been charging the enemy position now turned their attention to the Chinese soldiers who had set up multiple machine-gun positions just inside the woods, overlooking the airfield.

“They were smart,” thought Long as he realized the Chinese had allowed the first wave of helicopters to land only to open fire on them as they were vulnerable and trying to leave.

Red and green tracer fire flew back and forth across the runway and taxi strip as the two sides fought it out. Captain Long knew if the Marines didn’t clear the airstrip of these enemy positions, it would be difficult to get more reinforcements, let alone a resupply; the helicopters wouldn’t be able get close enough to deliver them. Looking toward the now-burning antiaircraft vehicle, Long saw two fire teams closing in on a machine-gun bunker.

Lifting his own rifle to his shoulder, he closed his left eye and sighted in on a soldier who was feeding ammunition to the gunner. Long gently applied pressure to the trigger until he felt and heard the rifle bark. He was rewarded by the sight of the enemy soldier clutching at his chest and collapsing next to his comrades.

“One down, now to take out the next guy,” he thought.

Suddenly Long felt the irresistible need to duck and dropped down just as a string of enemy rounds tore into the dirt right above him while the buzzing sound of hot lead flew right over his head. One of the Marines a couple of feet to his right hadn’t ducked — Long saw his body thrown back into the ditch as a single enemy round impacted the soldier’s face, pulverizing it. The young man was dead before he even knew what hit him.

“Captain Long!” a lance corporal shouted as he crawled over next to him and handed him the radio handset. “It’s Dog Pound Six on the radio.” Since their battalion was called the “Dog Pound,” all the companies had been given attack dog names.

Reaching over, Tim grabbed the handset, depressing the talk button. “This is Pit Bull Six, go ahead, Dog Pound Six,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the roar of gunfire going on around him.

“Pit Bull Six, what is the status of the airfield? Is it secured yet?” asked his battalion commander.

“Dog Pound Six, not yet. We encountered a couple of Type 95 antiaircraft vehicles hidden in the jungle near the airstrip. We’re taking heavy enemy fire but moving to neutralize the threats. Two of them have been destroyed. An unknown number of them are still present in the immediate area. How copy?”

“Good copy, Pit Bull. We have some fast movers inbound to your location now. Pass along the coordinates to them and secure the airfield. Dog Pound element is inbound to your positions. ETA twenty mikes. How copy?”

Long nodded, more to himself than for anyone else’s benefit. “Twenty minutes should be enough time to beat the enemy back from the airfield, especially if he’ll have access to a few fast movers,” he thought.

“That’s a good copy. Pit Bull out.”

He handed the receiver back to his radioman. “We have fast movers inbound to our location. Raise them if you can, and hand the mic back to me when you have them. We’re going to call in some air strikes.”

Looking around briefly, Long spotted the man he was looking for. “Sergeant Mueller, come here!” he yelled as he waved to get his attention.

A second later, the sergeant was sitting next to him in the drainage ditch. “What do you need, Sir?” he asked.

Captain Long pulled his map of the airfield out and leaned in toward Sergeant Mueller to be heard over the gunfire. “We have fast movers inbound. I need you to help me identify where those enemy guns are.” The sergeant nodded and pulled a small pair of field glasses out. He squinted as he looked through them. In a couple of minutes, he had identified where three of them were.

“Two of them are over near Second Platoon’s positions. The other is over near Fourth Platoon’s position here,” Mueller said, pointing to the locations on the map. “Those appear to be the only ones left, Sir.”

Long nodded as he looked over the map. He needed to call those platoon leaders and have them pulled back a bit so the aircraft could bomb the positions without killing his own men. “Corporal, send a message to those two platoons and tell them to pull back to these positions here. Make sure they know we have some fighters coming in that are going to bomb those gun positions,” he directed his radio man.

Just as Captain Long finished plotting the enemy positions, his radioman handed him the mic. “The platoons acknowledged the order and are falling back,” he said. “I also have the fast movers on the radio. Their call sign is Phoenix.”

Long nodded and took the handset. “Phoenix flight, this is Pit Bull Six. How copy?”

The pilots of the F/A-18 high above the unfolding battle responded, “Pit Bull Six. This is Phoenix Two and Three. We copy loud and clear. What do you have for us?”

Captain Long smiled at the calmness in the pilot’s voice. They sounded like they had done this a million times before. “Phoenix Two, we have three PLA Type 95 antiaircraft guns taking our helicopter support out. I need them cleared so the next wave of troops can land. How copy?” he asked.

Once the pilot acknowledged, Long relayed the number and type of enemy vehicles needing to be destroyed, along with their exact locations.

“Pit Bull Six, those are some serious threats. We copy. We’ll be hitting them with 500 pounders, so make sure your troops are well enough away,” the pilot explained. “Stand by for an attack run, three mikes out.”

Captain Long briefly switched over to the company network to let everyone know the fast movers were three minutes out and would be dropping 500-pound munitions on the enemy guns. Looking around, Long saw that most of the Marines who had been in the drainage ditch with him had moved forward and were now taking up positions near the hangars they had just captured from the enemy. It was just him, his radioman and one of the other sergeants that had helped him plot the enemy positions.

“Let’s relocate to a safer position once the fast movers take out the gun positions,” he said. Just then, they heard the first thunderous explosion near the other end of the field. Seconds later, two more blasts sent reverberations through the air. The platoons nearby reported direct hits. They started moving forward to secure the positions and finish off any enemy soldiers in the area.

“Pit Bull Six, this is Phoenix flight. Did we get them?” asked the pilot.

“Phoenix Two, that’s a good copy. A solid hit on all three enemy positions. How many more bombs do you have left? Can you hit a few additional strong points for us?” he asked, hoping they could help his unit take out a few more enemy positions.

“Pit Bull Six, we have five bombs remaining between us, and ten mikes of fuel. If you have more targets, send them, and we’ll take `em out for you,” replied the Hornet pilot.

Long turned to his gunnery sergeant, “What other positions could we use the ordnance on?”

A couple minutes went by as they conferred with the other platoon leaders, and eventually five enemy locations were settled on. Another five minutes went by, and five more loud explosions rocked Fort Mag as Echo Company continued to push out beyond the airfield to secure the rest of the base.

As the fighters flew back to the carrier to rearm, Captain Long and a few of his other soldiers moved toward the flight operation building for the airstrip and set it up as their command post until the rest of the battalion arrived. While he was getting his various platoon positions marked on his map of the area, they heard the sounds of more helicopters nearing them. Looking out the window, he saw the next wave of Ospreys land and disgorge their human cargo.

As the troops of Delta Company fanned out, Captain Long could see them react to the sight of the wreckage of two Ospreys still burning on the runway, along with nearly a dozen Marines lying dead nearby. The black pillars of smoke and fire continued rising from the enemy vehicles just slightly back from the perimeter in the jungle, also adding to the carnage.

A small cluster of Marines made their way toward the flight operation building. A few minutes later, Lieutenant Colonel Jackman walked in with a few of his other officers and staff members. He surveyed the room briefly and then walked toward Captain Long with a smile on his face.

“Bang-up job your men did in securing this airstrip, Captain. You should be proud of them. I’ve made sure Colonel Tilman knows how well you guys did in securing this objective,” Jackman said, extending his hand for a congratulatory handshake.

Then Colonel Jackman looked past Captain Long toward the map he had set up. “Where’s the enemy located now, and how soon until we can have the rest of the base secured?” he asked.

Long took a second to survey the map and then pointed to several positions. “I have platoons moving to these sections here, here, and here, which will allow us to make sure the airstrip is secured. Second Platoon is reporting heavy enemy fire near the base housing section just east of the airfield,” he explained.

“Along with this section over here near the training buildings, we’ve taken a lot of machine-gun fire and even run into a few armored vehicles,” Captain Long continued. “Fortunately, we had two pairs of Super Cobras that were able to help us take them out once those fast movers destroyed the enemy antiaircraft vehicles. I think there were two enemy light tanks and a handful of armored personnel carriers. Since they’ve been destroyed, we haven’t come into contact with any additional armored vehicles.”

Pausing for a second, Captain Long asked the next question. “Where do you want my company to focus on next?”

Nodding in approval, the colonel replied, “I’ll have Delta Company focus on this section of the base. I want you to have your third platoon disengage once Delta shows up and reinforce your guys over here at the base housing section. Focus on clearing that out and setting up a new perimeter covering this entire side of the base. The rest of the battalion will continue to arrive over the next couple of hours to help us expand the perimeter.”

Colonel Jackman then pointed on the map to where the two Ospreys were still burning. “We need to get these downed helicopters off the airstrip. The Air Force is going to send in a couple of C-130s, who are going to offload a mobile POL station, along with some munitions for the Cobras and the artillery guns that will start to arrive toward the end of the day. By tomorrow morning, we’ll have a dozen Super Cobras operating out of the base, along with a battery of 105mm artillery guns. This base is going to get real busy quick, Captain.”

Before Captain Long had a chance to leave, his boss pulled him aside for a second to talk privately. “Before I left the landing ships, I heard our sister battalion was taking a beating as they moved up the highway. I suspect they’re taking a lot of casualties. Colonel Tilman wants to move the Corps area combat support hospital to our location instead of the beach area. He wants the CSH to be closer to the fighting. My concern, Captain, is that the Chinese soldiers they’re fighting in that section are from the famed 43rd Paratrooper Division. If they fall back, they may try and fall back to Fort Mag, which frankly is not very far from them right now. There also may be other elements of that division nearby, which may cause us some problems,” Jackman told Long.

Captain Long nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to let my platoon leaders know about the presence of this unit as well. I’m not too versed in the Chinese unit patches, but it doesn’t appear that any of the units we fought here were part of that unit. They did put up a heck of a fight. If those paratroopers fight even more skillfully, then we’ll have our hands full for sure.”

They talked for a few minutes more before the colonel sent him on his way and began to get his battalion headquarters set up and ready to receive the influx of troops that were heading his direction.

Captain Ma lifted the pocket binoculars to his eyes and scanned the road below them. The column of American armored vehicles had been snaking along for kilometers on the Dingalan-Gabaldon Road, heading west away from the beach. Their scouts had spotted the Americans roughly twenty minutes earlier as they continued to head toward the small village of San Vicente and the lone vehicle bridge that crossed the Pampanga River allowing vehicles to continue west further inland.

When it became clear the Americans were going to land forces on Luzon, there were only a handful of suitable beaches. One of them happened to be roughly thirty-five kilometers from his current position. Captain Ma and his commanders knew exactly what type of American vehicles would be leading the way and knew the type of weapons they would need to defeat them. They had spent a couple of weeks preparing a series of defensive positions and traps that would hopefully cause significant damage to the Americans.

Captain Ma glanced down at his map.

“Good, they are about to enter my kill box,” he thought.

He needed to make sure the Americans had crossed the bridge before they opened fire. His company had fifty Red Arrow 12 fire-and-forget infrared homing antitank missiles ready to hammer the Yankees. The engineers had also moved six 152mm artillery guns, which they had pointed directly at the road the enemy tanks would have to travel down. The 152mm guns would be used as antitank guns instead of traditional artillery, though he also had a battalion of artillery guns he could call upon if needed.

“When should we spring the trap?” asked one of the junior captains as he nervously fidgeted with something in his hand.

Captain Ma snorted before responding. “Patience, Yu. We want to wait until those American tanks get across the road first. Once they’re trapped on our side of the river, we’ll be able to slaughter them. When the Americans try to rush additional units over the bridge, then we’ll blow the bridge, separating them.” He was a bit perturbed that the junior captain was asking a question he had clearly been briefed on earlier.

Ten more minutes went by as the fourth M1A2 Abrams main battle tank crossed the bridge and continued to head west. Ma lifted the hand receiver to his face and depressed the talk button. “Fire on the tanks,” he said to his gun crews.

Seconds later, the first 152mm cannon fired, quickly followed by three other guns. The 152mm rounds flew quickly across the ground, traveling the nearly four kilometers before they slammed into the side hulls of the tanks. As soon as the rounds hit the tanks, all four of them exploded, sending shrapnel, flames, and smoke in every direction. The rest of the antitank guns picked off other armored vehicles in the American column, lighting them up as well.

As the fighting on the ground heated up, a pair of American attack helicopters swooped in from the sky and fired antipersonnel rockets into the jungle area where his guns were dug in. Seconds after the helicopters flew in, a series of FN-6 MANPADS shot up quickly from the cover of the jungle and headed toward the American chopper. One of them was destroyed by the MANPAD, while the other helicopter fled the scene and didn’t reappear.

At this point, dozens of American armored vehicles raced toward his positions. Rather than trying to cross the bridge as they had anticipated, the American tracked vehicles proved they could quickly and effortlessly ford the river and battle their way toward his position at the edge of the jungle, firing their own vehicle weapons at his soldiers. While the Americans raced toward them, a series of loud explosions rocked his bunker.

“Those blasted Americans — they’re already hitting us with high-altitude air strikes,” thought Ma.

Looking to his east, Captain Ma saw that three of his artillery guns had just been destroyed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Still, the three remaining guns continued to fire away on the now quickly approaching Americans. Once they got within two kilometers of his position, the RA-12 antitank missiles raced across the field and hammered the American vehicles. In seconds, nine American vehicles were now nothing more than burning wreckage.

Ma switched his radio frequency to the two Type 95 antiaircraft vehicles he had tucked away under a lot of jungle foliage. “Turn your radars on and take out those American aircraft,” he ordered.

Less than a minute later, he heard the roar of their 25mm cannons intermixed with the swooshing noise of several of their missiles as they began to seek out and destroy the American helicopters and aircraft flying within a ten-kilometer radius.

Sadly, the two vehicles only lasted minutes before they were both destroyed by the Americans. Meanwhile, the US advance toward his position had been slowed down and then blunted altogether. There was nothing left but a burning wreck of what appeared to be an American company-level unit.

Thirty minutes later, another American unit of comparable size moved forward and advanced along the same road. Rather than continue forward or cross the river and run toward the jungle like their comrades had, they stayed back and called in a series of air strikes against Captain Ma’s positions.

The jungle his forces had built their defensive forts in was subsequently pounded for nearly an hour. Each time the Americans would send in attack helicopters, his troops would pop out of their bunkers and fire off a series of MANPADS at them. A number of choppers had been shot down this way, and it was proving to be an effective tactic.

One hour turned to five as the Americans continued to try and fight their way past his position. Each time, they sustained heavy casualties and ultimately would fall back. During the five-hour running battle, Ma’s company sustained close to fifty percent casualties, something he had never had to deal with in their previous battles. Under more normal circumstances, his forces had been relieved and not expected to fight on, let alone have to deal with having no air support or air cover.

Eventually, Captain Ma’s commander ordered his company to withdraw to the next defensive position and prepare to repel the Americans at the next major junction.

Explosions could be heard off the instance, as well as the sound of jets soaring overhead. The few remaining fighters that had survived the American aerial bombardments were doing their best to provide cover for the handful of Nanchang Q-5 ground-attack aircraft that were going after the American beachheads. During the last two weeks, Major General Hu Wei’s positions across the Philippines had been getting hammered by the Americans in preparation for the invasion.

Finally, the hour had come, and the Americans were hitting his forces all across the island. Reports were coming in from the various beachheads that the Americans had moved off the beaches and were now advancing inland.

“The question now,” he thought to himself, “is how long can we hold out with virtually no support from the Navy or the mainland?”

“General,” said one of the operations officers, “we received a communique from Major General Joko Subroto. The Indonesian 2nd Infantry Division has pulled back from Legazpi and is now taking up positions near Naga. It also appears that a large portion of his forces are falling back even further, to the Mount Banahaw area.”

“Why is he having his forces fall that far back? He’s giving up precious land that we could force the Americans to fight for. This makes no sense,” General Hu countered as he looked at the map.

“If the Indonesians give up the entire southern half of the island, how am I supposed to defend Manila?” he pondered.

Another officer replied to the general’s question before anyone else could respond. “He’s falling back to the Banahaw area because he’s afraid his division may get cut off by the Americans if they land forces behind him.”

He shook his head. There was really not much he could do. The Indonesian commander had a point, but he also didn’t appear like he wanted to fight the Americans very hard. “Send a message to General Subroto. Tell him he’s to hold his positions and not withdraw any further. His forces need to stand and fight the Americans. We’ll send him additional forces to help when we can,” he ordered. He hoped with everything in him that his Indonesian partners would do their part.

Hu turned to his executive officer. “How are the rest of our forces holding up?” he asked.

“Our paratrooper element near the San Vicente area hit the American Marines hard. They nearly wiped out a whole battalion of Marines before they were ordered to withdraw. So far, the paratroopers in that region are holding the Marines from moving too far inland. However, the battalion of regular infantry we stationed at Fort Mag lost control of the base to an air assault by the Marines. They’re trying to organize a counterattack, but it’s going to be hard to dislodge the Americans. They’re moving a lot of troops and equipment to the airfield,” replied Brigadier General Wang, to the dismay of everyone present.

They had hoped to retain control of Fort Mag for a couple more weeks. If the Americans were able to establish a solid foothold there, they would be able to move on Clark International Airport and cut the top portion of the Island of Luzon in half. It would hasten their defeat if the Americans were allowed to hold Fort Mag for very long.

“Send a message to the airborne units in the area,” ordered Hu. “They’re to pull back and, if possible, retake Fort Mag from the Americans!”