Do or Die Read online

  He ran the alternatives over in his mind. It'd be better to do it at night, but he didn't think he should wait that long. They might torture or kill Frankie by then, although the Japs seemed to be treating him well. But that might not last. He'd better get Frankie out of there as soon as he could.

  Longtree decided to make his play as soon as the soldiers working on the roof went away. He'd just stand up and walk directly toward Frankie, holding his rifle ready to shoot. Hopefully nobody would pay any attention to him in his stolen Japanese uniform. If they did, he'd shoot anybody who got in his way, blow the lock off the gate of the compound, and run like hell with Frankie La Barbara. Longtree thought he could pull the whole thing off before the Japs knew what was happening, and by then he and Frankie would be speeding through the jungle, on their way back to their lines.

  Longtree waited patiently. The soldiers finished the roof and got into formation. Then their sergeant marched them away while Frankie waved good-bye to them. Now's the time, Longtree thought. He silently opened the bolt of his Arisaka rifle to make sure it was loaded. Japanese hand grenades were in his pockets in case he had to throw them. He sucked air in through his clenched teeth and knew that the Japs might shoot him before he got far, but a warrior had to do his duty and not think negative thoughts.

  He tensed his muscles to stand up, when the flap of the biggest tent in the bivouac opened and a tall Japanese officer in a freshly ironed uniform and shiny boots emerged. The guard in front of the tent saluted and the officer marched across the clearing, heading toward Frankie La Barbara. The samurai sword at his waist gleamed in the sun. Longtree wondered what he was all dressed up for.

  Every Japanese soldier in the area became aware of their commanding officer and watched him strut toward Frankie La Barbara. Longtree realized it wasn't the best time to free Frankie, because too much attention was directed toward the clearing. He hoped the Japanese officer wasn't going to take Frankie away.

  Captain Kashiwagi's back was ramrod straight and his shoulders squared as he moved closer to Frankie La Barbara. The Japanese officer was driven by powerful passions that were hidden well by his calm, stem exterior. He'd decided to do what he desperately wanted to do, because he probably would die in the upcoming titanic battle for Bougainville, and he wanted to have the strange and exciting experience he'd been fantasizing about for the past hour.

  Uh-oh, thought Frankie La Barbara as he watched Captain Kashiwagi approach. Here we go. Frankie stood and placed his hands in his pockets, leaning on one leg, looking into Captain Kashiwagi's eyes. Captain Kashiwagi stopped three feet away on the other side of the barbed wire and returned Frankie's stare. The Japanese officer, in his warped frame of mind, was certain he saw affection in Frankie's eyes; and when Frankie winked at him, Captain Kashiwagi nearly came in his pants.

  Captain Kashiwagi winked back. Frankie smiled faintly, and Captain Kashiwagi smiled in response. Frankie extended his tongue a quarter of an inch, and Captain Kashiwagi turned away abruptly, because he couldn't handle it anymore. Balling up his fists, he marched swiftly back to his tent.

  “Have Lieutenant Sono report to me immediately!” he said to the guard in front of his tent. Captain Kashiwagi entered his tent, threw his hat onto the peg, and collapsed into his chair, trembling uncontrollably.

  Longtree decided it was time to make his move. He glanced around the Japanese encampment and saw the soldiers returning to their duties. Tensing, he raised himself an inch, then saw another officer and two privates emerge from the jungle and march toward Frankie La Barbara.

  Longtree got down again. Now what? he wondered. The three Japs stopped in front of the compound and the officer barked an order. The guard unlocked the gate. The officer shouted something to Frankie, who rose from where he'd been lying. Frankie sauntered out of the compound with all his sass and hostility, and the Japanese officer pushed him toward Captain Kashiwagi's tent. Frankie turned around and drew back his fist to punch the lieutenant in the mouth, then realized what the score was, grinned, and turned around, heading toward the tent. The lieutenant and the two soldiers followed him. When they reached the tent, the lieutenant pointed at the opening and motioned for Frankie to go inside. Frankie ducked his head and entered the tent.

  The lieutenant walked away, leaving the two privates to guard the tent with the one who was already posted there. Longtree thought Frankie was going to be interrogated and tortured. When Butsko had been captured on Guadalcanal, they'd stuck needles under his fingernails and held his hand over a fire. They'd beaten and kicked him senseless, and Longtree figured the same was going to happen to Frankie La Barbara.

  Longtree wanted to do something, but he didn't see how he could get past those three guards, and didn't know how many more Japs might be inside the tent. Maybe a bunch of them were going to tear Frankie limb from limb or roast him over a fire. Japs weren't particularly kind to their prisoners. They'd never signed the Geneva Convention accords. GIs who'd escaped from Japanese POW camps told hair-raising horror stories, and every American serviceman knew about them.

  Longtree figured his only chance was to work his way around the Japanese encampment and attack the tent from behind. If it didn't have a back door, he'd cut it open with his bayonet, jump inside, and start shooting Japs. It was a long shot but the only one he had. It might take him all day to get in position, but he had no choice. It would be extremely dangerous with so many Japs buzzing around, but a warrior was not supposed to worry about danger.

  Longtree cradled his rifle in his arms and crawled to his left, beginning his long journey around the Japanese encampment.

  Captain Kashiwagi sat behind his desk, his hand shaking slightly as he raised a cigarette to his lips. Frankie stood in front of him, a friendly smile on his face as he looked around the office for weapons. He spotted the samurai sword hanging on the wall and the pistol in a holster on Captain Kashiwagi's belt. The chair could be used as a weapon, and so could the stand on which a basin of water sat.

  Captain Kashiwagi didn't know how to proceed, because he'd never done anything like this before and couldn't speak the American's language. He motioned toward the chair for Frankie to sit down, but Frankie didn't want to waste time. He pointed to the cot and winked.

  Captain Kashiwagi thought his brains might explode out his ears, he was so excited. The American soldier wanted what he wanted, that was clear. Captain Kashiwagi rose and walked toward the cot. Frankie swiveled his hips as he headed in the same direction, unbuttoning his shirt, showing his hairy chest and powerful pectoral muscles.

  Captain Kashiwagi's knees quaked as he unbuttoned his own shirt. Frankie La Barbara let his shirt drop off his arms and fall to the floor. He eased toward the other side of Captain Kashiwagi, where the Nambu pistol was holstered.

  Captain Kashiwagi pulled his shirt out of his pants and let the sleeves fall down his arms. That was exactly what Frankie was hoping he'd do. When the shirt was halfway down Captain Kashiwagi's arms, and Captain Kashiwagi didn't have freedom of movement, the smile on Frankie's face became a vicious snarl and he threw the hardest left hook in his arsenal, smashing Kashiwagi on the nose.

  Captain Kashiwagi saw stars, but karate black belts are trained to take hard punches, and he didn't go down. Frankie put all his weight and strength behind a right hook, bashing Captain Kashiwagi on the ear. A sick look came over Captain Kashiwagi's face and he dropped down five inches but remained on his feet, dazed, trying to get his arms out of his shirt.

  Frankie spun him around, pulled the Nambu out of its holster, and backhanded Captain Kashiwagi across the face with the barrel, laying open his cheek to the bone. Blood gushed out and Captain Kashiwagi dropped to one knee. The room spun around him, but he had enough consciousness left to realize that the American prisoner had tricked him. Captain Kashiwagi's heart nearly broke, and then his head actually did break as Frankie clubbed him with the butt of the pistol.

  Captain Kashiwagi lay sprawled out on the floor. Frankie's pulse pounded. He held the p
istol in his hand and pointed it to the tent flap, expecting a guard to come rushing in. He waited a few seconds but no guard came. He hadn't made the noise he'd thought he had.

  So far, so good, he thought excitedly. He bent over Captain Kashiwagi and took the bullets out of the pouch on his belt, dropping them into his pocket. Opening the chamber of the Nambu, he saw a bullet at the top of the clip. He rammed the bullet into the chamber.

  Captain Kashiwagi groaned and moved. Frankie smacked him on the head with the pistol, opening another gash and knocking Captain Kashiwagi cold. Frankie had to get out of there right away. He didn't want to leave through the front tent flap, because he thought one guard was out there. He didn't know that Lieutenant Sono had assigned two more guards to the post. The tent had no rear door. He'd have to use the samurai sword to cut a little hole and peek out. Taking the sword down from the wall, he tiptoed to the rear of the tent and cut a slit, peering through it.

  His heart sank at what he saw. There were rows of tents going back into the jungle. He didn't think he'd get far if he ran that way. It'd be better to shoot the guard in front and make a break for it across the clearing, run into the jungle, and try to get through the Japanese lines. He'd come in that way and hadn't seen any tents, just a network of foxholes, which he might be able to get through if he was careful and lucky.

  Anyway, it was the only chance he had. Frankie looked down at Captain Kashiwagi, out cold on the floor, as he walked around the desk and made his way to the front flap of the tent. Opening it an inch, he was dismayed to see three guards with their backs to him. Could he shoot three guards before one of them shot him? He'd have to be fast and accurate. Spreading his legs apart, he held the Nambu in both hands and clicked off the safety. He poked the barrel outside and took aim at the guard on the left. He licked his lips, squinted, and squeezed the trigger.

  Blam!

  The Nambu kicked upward in Frankie's hand, a cloud of smoke filled the air, and the guard on the left went down. Frankie swung the Nambu to the right, aimed quickly, and fired again, missing this time.

  The two remaining guards, astonished, turned around. Frankie ran toward them, his teeth bared and his pistol aimed at the one on the left. He fired at point-blank range, blowing the guard off his feet. The last guard raised his rifle to fire, but before he could get ready, Frankie shot him in the face. The bullet tore the Japanese soldier's skull apart, blood and brains scattering in all directions.

  Frankie ran as fast as he could across the clearing, hearing shouts all around him, expecting a bullet in his guts at any moment. “Dear God in heaven,” he muttered as he streaked toward the jungle, “save my ass and I'll go to church for the rest of my life.”

  Meanwhile, in the bushes, Longtree heard the shots and looked toward the tent. He saw Frankie running toward the jungle and Japanese soldiers entering the clearing, dropping onto their bellies or to one knee, and aiming their rifles at Frankie!

  They fired their rifles. The bullets whizzed all around Frankie, who was sure his number had come up. Longtree fired back at the Japanese soldiers, giving them something new and unexpected to worry about, and then he tossed a hand grenade, which exploded in the clearing and made the Japs duck their heads, fearing an artillery bombardment.

  Frankie didn't know what the hell was going on as he crashed into the jungle. He found a trail and ran along it, following its twists and turns, and encountered two Japanese soldiers running toward him. They looked at him and he looked at them. Frankie got off the first shot, missed completely, then plunged into the thick jungle, clawing branches out of his way, in a mad panic to find shelter.

  The two Japanese soldiers ran after him. Then Longtree, wearing his Japanese uniform, appeared on the trail behind the Japs. The two Japanese soldiers turned around, thought they were looking at one of their own, and continued their pursuit of Frankie.

  Longtree pulled out a Japanese grenade and threw it at the Japanese soldiers. It landed between them and detonated, blowing them to shreds. Longtree jumped over them and ran after Frankie.

  “Wait for me!” he screamed. “It's Longtree.”

  “Longtree!”

  Frankie stopped in his tracks and turned around. He saw a tall Japanese soldier coming after him and raised his Nambu.

  “It's me!”

  Frankie eased his finger off the trigger. It was his old buddy, Corporal Sam Longtree, in a Japanese uniform.

  “What're you doing here?”

  “I've come to save your worthless ass.”

  Longtree joined Frankie and looked around. “I don't know which way to go.”

  “Neither do I.”

  They heard the shouts of Japanese soldiers all around them.

  “Fuck it!” said Longtree. “We'll just head back to our lines and hope for the best.”

  He threw himself into the jungle and Frankie followed him. Branches tore their skin and Frankie's upper body became covered with blood, because he wasn't wearing a shirt. They were making a lot of noise, but so were the Japanese soldiers beating the bushes all around them. Soon they found themselves in extremely dense foliage that forced them to get down on their stomachs so that they could crawl underneath it.

  Longtree craned his neck around and looked at Frankie. “Maybe we should stay right here.”

  “Stay here? Fuck you! I want to get out of here!”

  “They'll hear you. If we're still, they won't be able to home in on us. In a few hours it'll be dark, and then we'll get away.”

  Frankie thought about it for a few moments until it made sense to his agitated mind. “Okay, we'll give it a try.”

  Both went limp on the ground, breathing heavily, listening to Japanese soldiers hollering at each other as they attempted to track them down.

  Captain Kashiwagi woke up on the floor of his tent. At first he didn't know where he was or what had happened to him; then he remembered, and the pain in his heart was even worse than the pain in his head. He really didn't care about me, he thought. He was just using me.

  His sorrow turned to rage, at himself and the American at first, but then solely at the American. “That dog!” Captain Kashiwagi said, and the exertion made his head ache even more. He touched the palm of his hand to his face and realized it was covered with blood. His head was wet with blood too. He was a mess, but lucky he hadn't been killed. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push himself up from the floor.

  Lieutenant Sono burst into the tent, saw his commanding officer lying, bloody and battered, on the floor, and nearly had a heart attack. “Sir, are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “Let me help you.”

  Lieutenant Sono called for help, and two soldiers rushed into the tent. They picked Captain Kashiwagi up, carried him a few feet, and laid him gently on his bed.

  “Get the medical orderly!” Lieutenant Sono ordered.

  The two soldiers ran out of the tent. Lieutenant Sono bent over Captain Kashiwagi. “Is there anything I can do, sir?”

  “There's a bottle of sake in my desk drawer. Get it for me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lieutenant Sono ran to the desk, found the bottle, and brought it to Captain Kashiwagi, who took it in both his hands, raised it to his lips, and drank some down.

  “What happened, sir?”

  “I'm not quite sure.”

  Lieutenant Sono was perplexed. He couldn't understand why Captain Kashiwagi had wanted to talk with the American prisoner in the first place, since neither spoke the other's language. On top of that, Captain Kashiwagi was a karate expert, with fast reflexes, always alert. How could the American do this to him? Lieutenant Sono thought something fishy was going on, but decided it was best not to ask any questions.

  The medical orderly, Pfc. Yokoseki, flew into the tent. He had buck teeth, wore thick glasses, and was as thin as a stalk of bamboo. The Japanese army had trained him in the practice of medicine, which meant he didn't know much. He rushed to Captain Kashiwagi's side, looked down, and was horrifie
d by what he saw. His commanding officer had nearly been beaten to a pulp.

  “My goodness,” said Yokoseki. “What happened?”

  Captain Kashiwagi grimaced. “Do something!”

  “Yes, sir.” He touched Captain Kashiwagi's nose, and Captain Kashiwagi screamed. “Oh!” said Yokoseki. “I do believe it's broken! I can bandage it up, but you should have a doctor set it.” He looked at the gash on top of Captain Kashiwagi's head. “That's a nasty one. Might need a few stitches. A doctor should look at it.”

  Pfc. Yokoseki cleaned the wounds and applied bandages while Lieutenant Sono watched and Captain Kashiwagi lay stiffly, trying not to flinch or show that he was in terrible pain. He'd always hated Americans, but now he hated them more. They're vicious bastards, he thought, and they can't be trusted. Nothing is sacred to them, not even friendship. I hope I'm better by the time the big battle starts. I'll tear those American soldiers apart with my bare hands.

  Captain Kashiwagi swiveled his eyeballs around so he could look at Lieutenant Sono. “Haven't they caught the American prisoner yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don't know, sir. They're chasing him right now. He had confederates, you know. They fired at our men from the jungle.”

  “Confederates? You're sure?”

  “Yes, sir. They shot a few of our men.”

  Now Captain Kashiwagi was really confused. He decided to close his eyes and figure out later what had happened, when he felt better.

  The Japanese soldiers swept back and forth through the jungle, swinging machetes ready to shoot Americans. Longtree and Frankie La Barbara lay still on the ground, side by side and inches apart, and heard them come closer. The Japanese soldiers were headed straight for them. Longtree and Frankie exchanged worried glances.

  “I toldja we shoulda run away,” Frankie whispered.

  “Sshhhh.”

  The sound of Japanese soldiers beating the bushes became louder. They were twenty feet away, but Longtree and Frankie couldn't see them because the foliage was so dense. The Japanese soldiers had difficulty getting through undergrowth, and finally it stopped them altogether. The sergeant in charge of them didn't know what to do. He'd have to chop down all the bushes and trees if he wanted to search the area thoroughly, but he didn't have time. He didn't think Americans could be in there anyway, so he ordered his men to go around the thick brush. Soldiers will always take the easy way out if they can get away with it.