Jungle Sniper

CHAPTER NINE

One moment Deke was at the helm, but an instant later he found himself thrown through the air. He hit the water with a shock that forced the breath out of him. He took a gulp of sea water that made him choke and sputter, the salt water burning his throat and nose like acid. If he’d been knocked senseless like some of the other soldiers, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Deke’s survival instincts kicked in automatically. His legs kicked and his arms scrabbled at the water. At first he didn’t even know which way was up and which way was down, but his brain dimly differentiated that he should flail in the general direction of the brighter water.

Deke surfaced, sputtering, coughing, and desperately trying to catch his breath. It had all happened so fast that he was completely disoriented. It took a moment to register what had happened.

All around him other men struggled to stay afloat. Every last man had gone into the water. The shell must have split the landing craft wide open.

Deke had already shed his pack before trying to reach the helm, but other men weren’t so lucky. Some clawed their way to the surface, only to be dragged back down by the sheer weight of their gear. Essentially they found themselves drowning not once, but twice. The ones who had the presence of mind to do so managed to free themselves from their packs, but it wasn’t easy to do in the water. There were too many straps to get your arms through. Others panicked and quickly sank into the depths for good. Some were burdened with their rifles. It went against an infantryman’s every instinct and training to let go of his rifle, even when it was a matter of survival.

Considering how much he disliked the ocean, it was Deke’s worst nightmare. He could see the shore from where he floundered in the sea. The beach couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards distant, just beyond where the surf foamed on the coral. Already the strongest swimmers were heading ashore. When Deke bobbed up on a wave, he spotted the figures of men crossing the coral shallows, where other landing craft had taken them as far as they could. A few soldiers had even reached the beach itself and thrown themselves flat in the sand, returning the Japanese fire. But to a man struggling in the water, all that looked like a million miles away. Keeping his head above water was the only concern.

Dear Lord. Don’t let me drown.

He looked around in the water for any sign of Philly, Yoshio, or anybody else from the squad. The last time that he had seen Yoshio had been just to one side of Philly, lost in his own thoughts. Lieutenant Steele had been caught up in trying to manage the chaos as the vessel veered out of control, right before Deke had taken the helm. Where he’d ended up was anybody’s guess.

Rodeo and Alphabet, along with Egan and his new war dog, had been mixed in there somewhere. He just hoped to hell that they had all been thrown clear rather than trapped in the wreckage of the landing craft. Trying to find them at this point would be impossible. The best that he could hope for was that they had survived and would regroup on shore.

Foundering in the waves, the vessel was going down fast. Already it was half-submerged, with the incoming waves washing over the twisted metal. Toward what had been the stern, angry orange flames danced on the hulk and spread out over the water. Screams indicated that the flames had come for a few of the survivors.

That Japanese shell had done a number on the landing craft. A few bodies floated on the water. Those poor sons of bitches. For these men, the invasion had ended almost before it had gotten started.

But Deke was alive and he wanted to stay that way.

There were other nearby swimmers, struggling like Deke to stay afloat. Even if they had shed their gear, the weight of a waterlogged uniform, water-filled combat boots, and a steel helmet made treading water difficult. Some lost their fight against the sea and disappeared under the surface for good, leaving barely a ripple.

Deke was keeping his head above water, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep that up. On the landing craft, he had swapped out his helmet for the bush hat. The chin strap had gotten wrapped around his neck, keeping him from losing the hat. Although he wasn’t burdened by a pack, the weight of his clothing alone weighed him down.

Desperately, he looked around in the wreckage for something to help keep him afloat. Most of it was useless trash, unidentifiable bits and pieces. Finally he spotted just what he was looking for — a life vest. The soldiers had not been issued the kapok-filled life vests, so this one must have been intended for the navy crewmen piloting the landing craft. Sadly, the pilot wouldn’t be needing it.

The vest was charred, and one of the kapok chambers was already soggy, but for Deke it was literally a lifesaver. He clutched at it and started for shore.

He had managed just a few awkward strokes when he heard the desperate shouting coming from the wreckage.

“Help! Please, somebody help! I’m trapped!”

It went against all of Deke’s instincts to swim back toward the wreckage rather than toward shore, using up his limited reserves of strength. But if he could help, he would. He couldn’t think of a worse fate than being trapped among the twisted steel and going down with the ship.

Paddling through the water, he reached the sinking vessel. The burning pool of fuel seemed to be spreading and moving in his direction, which was worrisome. He nudged aside a man floating facedown in the water, then came face-to-face with the man who had been doing the shouting.

Instantly he recognized the eyeglass-wearing green bean whose shipmates had been giving him a hard time about packing his gear. The green bean’s head and shoulders were out of the water, mainly because his feet must have been supported by the wreckage of the vessel. But if that twisted metal was keeping him from sinking — at least for the moment — it also kept him trapped.

“I can’t free my legs,” the green bean said. “Something has got them pinned.”

“Maybe I can pull you,” Deke said.

Deke grabbed the soldier’s arms and tugged, but it was awkward because he couldn’t get any leverage in the water. Deke gave up and let go. The vessel was settling lower. Already the water was up to the young soldier’s chin.

“It’s no use,” the soldier said. From behind the lenses of his water-streaked glasses, he looked at Deke with a calm stare. “Get out of here before you get sucked down.”

“I ain’t leaving yet,” Deke said stubbornly. He unslung the rifle and shoved it toward the green bean, along with the charred kapok vest. “Hold these.”

There wasn’t much that frightened Deke, but what he did next was terrifying. I must be a damn fool. He took a couple of deep breaths and slipped his head under the surface. It took some nerve to keep it there. He could hear the underwater sounds of the vessel popping and creaking as it went down. He forced himself to open his eyes, even though the salt water stung. He needed to see what he was doing.

He followed the soldier’s legs down. Sure enough, a metal strut had fallen across the soldier’s shins, pinning him in place against the side of the landing craft. Deke couldn’t identify what role the strut had played because it was hard to make any sense of the wreckage.

And no wonder. He could see a jagged hole where a piece of shrapnel had torn through the vessel’s hull. If the shell had struck another couple of feet closer, the green bean wouldn’t have had any legs to worry about.

Deke grabbed hold of the strut and tugged, but it didn’t budge. He saw that the trouble was that he was coming at it from too high up and couldn’t get any leverage.

It was clear what he had to do next if he had any hope of freeing the soldier. Inwardly he groaned. Once again going against every instinct, he sank deeper into the sea until he could get his own feet braced against the steel sides of the vessel. He grabbed hold of the strut. Already he could feel himself running out of air. The wreckage lurched around him, settling lower in the water. He was only going to get one chance at this.

Once again he pulled for all he was worth. At first nothing happened. Deke put his legs into it, the effort forcing out the last of the air in his lungs. Then ever so slowly the strut moved.

Half an inch. That was it, and it wasn’t enough. The soldier was still pinned.

Deke’s lungs screamed for oxygen. He tugged. Another half an inch.

This time it did the trick. The young soldier wiggled his legs free, and Deke clawed toward the surface.

He came up, gasping for air, but his wet uniform and heavy boots threatened to pull him back down.

The young soldier was gripping the charred life vest. He got one arm around Deke. The tables had turned.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

Together they started toward shore. It turned out that the chubby young soldier was a strong swimmer, his ample baby fat helping to keep him afloat and masking what must have been muscular arms and legs. The soggy life vest was better than nothing.

He gave a few final kicks. Deke was relieved to feel the solid coral under his feet, so much so that he could almost ignore the bullets zinging past them. They reached the sandy shore and flung themselves into a shell hole, finding what shelter they could. Most of an intact company seemed to be doing the same thing in other holes nearby. Deke didn’t know who they were, and he didn’t much care.

The naval bombardment had abated once the invasion force reached the coral reef. It had left behind a beach that looked as if it had been plowed by a drunken giant. Shattered trees from the line of jungle at the edge of beach were strewn far across the sand. However, the bombardment hadn’t seemed to do much to dampen the Japanese defenses. Machine-gun fire zinged through the air above the sand. The sharp crack of rifle fire filled Deke’s ears.

“I’m Dickie Shelby, by the way.” The green bean made the introduction as if they were at a church picnic, not on a beach with hot lead flying. Private Shelby seemed on the verge of sticking out his hand, but he thought better of it when he saw Deke’s look.

“Don’t care,” Deke said.

“You’re that sniper fella. You helped me pack back on the ship. I heard about you. What are you gonna do now?”

“I’m gonna go kill some Japs, that’s what. So are you. That’s why we’re here, you know.”

“How do we do that?” the green bean asked.

“Keep your head down. Stick with this company. Listen to the sergeant. Do what you’re told if a veteran like me tells you to do it. He’ll be trying to keep you alive. I didn’t save your ass to have you get killed in the first five minutes of being on this beach.”

The green bean nodded. Deke got the sense that he was going to be all right.

“What about you?” the soldier asked.

Deke patted his rifle, which had made it to shore wet but functional. The Springfield could take a lot of punishment — and give plenty too. “I’m gonna shoot some Japs, that’s what. Good luck.”