老外作品-拯救飞行员--布干维尔岛战役之插曲

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Return to Friendly Lines – Chapter 6: The Link-up



Bougainville, south of Numa Numa trail, 0500 6 November, 1943.


The Coastwatchers Leftenant Van der Haanks and Constable Styles of the Solomon Islands Defense Force were up and moving as soon as the barest shred of light shown through the triple canopy jungle, along with their new found companion 1stLt Mike Thomas of VMF-121.

Thomas, who had crashed through the treetops and been rescued by Van der Haanks and Styles the day before, struggled to keep up with the two coastwatchers. He was used to looking at the jungle from a much different perspective. This was definitely not his element.

Like all Marine officers, Thomas had first been trained to be an infantry officer. Now the field problems of Quantico seemed like a distant memory.

Lt Thomas’ thoughts drifted back over the past two years: there had been flight training in Pensacola, then checking out in the Wildcat at a little field called "El Toro" in the orange fields south of Los Angeles. That's where he had learned to dogfight. “or so I thought”, he mused to himself as they plodded along the game trail. After El Toro, there were the two destroyer rides across the Pacific, arrival on Espirito Santo and his introduction to the Vought F4U Corsair:

"The bent winged Ensign-killer", they called it. Too many swabbies had been killed in crashes. “But once you got the hang of it - boy, it was one heck of an aircraft....”

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Van der Haanks led the little refugee band through the jungle darkness as Styles watched their tail. Thomas’ hand steadily gripped his .45. "Where are we going?" whispered Thomas, afraid that the whole jungle could here his every word.

His crash through the trees, quick rescue, and exhaustion that came with it had sent him into an immediate slumber as soon as they halted the previous evening.

"To the bloody Yank lines, of course!" came Van der Haanks, terse whispered reply.

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They slogged on southward through the jungle.

Constable Styles, a Solomon Islander, turned every third or fourth step to watch the rear. Enfield at the ready....

Elsewhere in the jungle, Duke, the German shepherd war dog, continued to lead his handler Cpl Vincette and the patrol leader Gunnery Sergeant Bronson on to the southwest, then west of the Raider’s LP on the Piva Trail.

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Picking-up on Duke’s signal that someone or something was approaching, Vincette steadied his K-9 friend with one hand and pointed his trenchgun out in front with the other.

Behind them, Gunny Bronson worked the bolt on his Thompson, chambering a round.

The two Marines halted, weapons at the ready. If whatever was approaching turned out to be a Japanese patrol, it was going to be filled with lead.

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Duke, gave a small bark, and a short wag of his tail. "Easy boy", said Vincette. The tension eased as the Marines realized that it wasn’t the Japs - but who the hell was it??

The Gunny then spotted one of those Aussie cowboy hats breaking through the brush. He had seen them on New Zealand before heading to Guadalcanal. Not knowing what else to make of it, he issued the traditional challenge, finger still on the trigger - of course: "Halt! Who goes there?"

“Easy, Yank!” called out Van der Haanks in his oddly accented Dutch-Australian accent. “Leftenant Van der Haanks and Constable Styles of the Coastwatchers…and we’ve got one of your mates with us.”

“Come forth and be recognized” said the Gunny, being mindful not to raise his voice above a conversational tone. Just because these guys didn’t appear to be the enemy didn’t mean that they weren’t around.

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“Lt. Thomas, VMF-121”, said the Lieutenant as he pushed past Van der Haanks. “I was shot down yesterday, and almost captured by the Japs when these guys came along and rescued me.”

“Gunnery Sergeant Bronson, Sir, 3rd Raider Bn.”, replied the Gunny.

“You’re d#@n lucky, Lieutenant. I’ve seen what the Japs do to prisoners.”

Van der Haanks quickly filled the raiders in on who they were and what they had seen of the enemy during their trek.

“Hmmh. Gentlemen, let’s get back to the LP. Once we get there, I’ll call Battalion and have them send a runner to bring you back through the lines. Lieutenant, get rid of that Mae West. You won’t need it anymore.”

With that, the coastwatchers and the Marines headed back east–northeast toward the LP on the Piva Trail.

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0800 3rd Raider Bn CP, Cape Torokina, Bougainville: The battalion operations officer, Major Lafferty, and Lt. Dan Powers, the Weapons Co. CO and Operations watch officer, discussed what the Gunny and the dog handler may have found…

“Sir what do you think got the dog’s attention if its not Japs? We don’t have any other patrols out right now.”, said Lt. Powers as he sucked on a coffin nail.

The stale Jacky Strike cigarettes had become a constant presence in the South Pacific. Loved and hated by soldier, sailor, and Marine alike, they were synonymous with the war itself.

“I haven’t the foggiest Dan – I just hope that they are not being fooled into an ambush. This new war dog program is proving useful, but maybe the Japs have thought of a way to trick the dogs.”

As the two officers discussed the situation, Pfc Raincloud’s headset crackled to life: “Black Cat, this is Python. We have enemy on the trail…”

Lt Powers quickly looked up from his conversation with the major: “Watcha got Raincloud?”

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“LP reports sighting the enemy, Sir, then they dropped off the net.”

Castle saw it first: the vague outline of a man emerging from the jungle foliage down the trail. “Psst. Sergeant – Japs.”

Sgt. Frazetti pushed the transmit button on his handy-talkie and quickly began his report to the Battalion CP: “Black Cat, this is Python. We have enemy on the trail. We have one, wait - we have more enemy…” Sgt. Frazetti took his finger off the transmit button.

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More Japanese infantry were appearing on the trail, and they were only 30 some yards away. Frazetti quickly turned off the radio. He couldn’t afford to alert the Japs with a squeltch from the small platoon radio.

…At least he didn’t hear the hum of a tank engine.

As the Sergeant made his report, Pfc Romano picked up a rifle grenade and quietly fastened it to the end of his rifle.

Tension rose among the three Marines on the LP as a Jap squad came into view and halted in front of their position. So far, they hadn’t been seen.

Beyond the infantry on the trail, the Marines could hear some commotion going on but they couldn’t tell what was causing it.

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Return to Friendly Lines, Chapter 7 - The Ambush


Bougainville, 0810, 6 November 1943, east of Piva Trail…

Cpl. Vincette and his German Shepherd war dog, Duke, were on point, as Gunny Bronson guided the refugee Coastwatchers and the newly rescued Corsair pilot back toward the LP on the Piva Trail. Constable Styles continued his previous role of “tail-end Charlie”, turning every few steps to make sure no one was sneaking up from behind.

Superior Private Ichihara along with the rest of the men in his section, moved ever so slowly southward through the jungle. They were in a skirmish line perpendicular to the east side of the Piva trail. It was slow going, but they had been told that the main trail would be used for the assault force. The soldiers were to move forward until they found the Gaijin line, and then hold until the signal was given for a breaching assault. Ichihara, could only assume that other units of the 23rd were doing the same thing on the other side of the trail.

As Vincette led the small band of Marines and Coastwatchers back to the LP, he suddenly stopped and took a knee…Duke was standing still. Vincette could here his low growl and feel the hairs rising up on his back. Gunny Bronson came forward to see what was the matter.

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