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dudewritesstuff-blog · 7 years ago

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Shadows

Paul Weber looked up at the bright blue sky covered by green palm trees. He closed his eyes and tried to think of his farm in Des Moines. He tried envisioning rows of golden wheat before him as he stood in his fields letting the sun grace his tanned skin. It wasn't like this awful, sticky, hell called Guadalcanal. "Hey, Weber!" Paul snapped out of it and looked behind him to see a broad-shouldered, brown-haired blue-eyed New Yorker he knew as Luke Giovanni "You done being lost in thought over there, pal?" Paul shrugged "At least something was going through my mind" he said with a smirk. Luke rolled his eyes "Very funny, farm boy. Just get back to shoveling. I'd like to get these fighting positions set up before Tojo comes a knocking." Paul looked down at the hole he was helping Luke with and promptly got back to work. "Aw, shucks." The resident slim, brown-eyed Virginian named Jackson Lee piped up. "Lay off of him, would 'ya Luke? I mean, don't you miss the city?" "Yeah, sure. I do." Luke replied "But I don't waste my time thinking about it, I'm thinking about digging this fucking trench so I can mow down Japs so I can go home a lot sooner!" Luke replied.

"Well, I find that thinking about home every once in a while, helps me through all of my troubles." Jackson said "What's the city like, Luke?" Luke looked up for a moment "Better than this shitty place, that's for sure." Luke continued as he shoveled "It's got lights, there's always something to do" Luke stopped and smiled as he thoughts of home entered his head "and there's always these pretty dames making eyes at ya." Paul chuckled "Any of those dames your girl back home?" Luke grinned "When I get back, that'll be the case." Luke paused "What about you, Paul? Jackson your cousin doesn't count." Jackson rolled his eyes in response.

Paul thought back to the night before he shipped out to San Diego for basic training. He remembered Anna nestling her head against his shoulder as they lay in bed. Paul spent that night staring at the slowly spinning ceiling fan trying to sleep. He remembered their tearful goodbye as he went on the train to San Diego. "Come back to me" her words echoed in his head. "I sure do, fellas." Paul spoke as he gazed at the blue sky. "Yeah? What's her name? Is she skinny? Fat?" Luke smiled and chuckled mischievously "Yeah, I knew it. You like fat chicks don't you Paul? I bet she's got-" "Aw, hush, Luke! Let him talk!" Jackson interjected. Paul laughed it off and refocused his mind on Anna. He pictured her smile that lit up her eyes, her slim figure in a blue floral dress. Paul noticed that both the men's jaws dropped as he described her. Paul looked back to happier times.

As he recounted his experiences to his squadmates, he remembered the first day her bright blue eyes met his while he was out in town that weekend. He remembered how he worked up the courage to ask her to the movies that night. He remembered her red lipstick, white gloves, curled brown hair, and her bright red dress that night. He remembered their first kiss in the night when nobody else was around. "Damn, Paul! You know you are way too lucky of a guy, you know that?" Luke interjected. "That's enough about her, fellas. What about you Jackson?" Jackson gave a hearty laugh "Well, unlike what this city boy thinks, there's plenty of pretty girls out where I'm from." He described a blonde-haired, green-eyed beauty who moved from Alabama. "I asked her out to the coffee shop, and we talked for a while and, well, the rest is history."

Paul smiled and raised an eyebrow "That can't be all, man. I mean, what happened after that?" The smile faded from the Virginian "She found out I was going to San Diego and called it off. Didn't want to deal with the shadow that would follow her should something happen to me." Paul looked down. "Well, come home alive and she might change her mind." Jackson shrugged "It was only one date, not a marriage proposal. I was heartbroken at first, but I figured there's plenty 'o girls out there."

A tall, gruff, marine with a holding a Tommy gun with one hand came up to their little home away from home. His entire body eclipsed the sun from their perspective looking like he was a tall shadow looking down at them. "Are we working here? Or are we screwing around?" The men replied that they were doing both. "Well, less yapping and more digging. Tojo can hear you guys with that racket you're making. Get to work" the shadow growled. "Yes, Sergeant!" The men replied as they got back to their shovels. Paul and his friends got back to digging. They finished digging and started mounting and making adjustments to their Browning M1917 water-cooled machine gun.

When it seemed like they were in the clear, Paul turned to the New Yorker. "You know, Luke. I've never really been to the city before. I like my farm and all, but it's a little quiet sometimes. A visit or two to the city would be nice. Any pointers?" Luke's eyes lit up "Aw, yeah man! There's cabarets, fancy restaurants, theaters, anything you could want! Hey, you should bring Anna with you! She'll love you for it!" Paul smiled "I supposed you don't mind taking us around?" "What else do you think I was going to do?" Luke replied with clap on Paul's shoulder. Jackson shrugged as he brought a box of ammo. "I'm not sure, fellas. I've heard stories from some of my friends. It seems all noisy, smelly, and dirty. I like my quiet life out back in town, honestly." Luke raised an eyebrow "You need to find a new set of friends then, pal. So, they had one bad experience. So, what! They didn't have me to take them around!" Paul laughed and turned to Jackson "I'd trust this guy to take me around the city. Come with us, Jackson. See it for yourself."

Jackson looked down for a moment. The Virginian was a refreshing contrast to the boisterous Luke, whom one would worry if he was quiet. With Jackson, it was almost the opposite; you would be worried if he spoke as quickly as Luke did. The sergeant returned to their fighting position with a cigarette hanging from his lips. "Well, it looks like I'll be joining you boys for this little scrap." He said as he set down the radio next to them and scraped some dirt off of the upper receiver of his Thompson. This time, the shadow from the brim of his helmet completely covered his eyes. The only feature he could make out was his square jawline. "Make like first squad over there and gather some bamboo and build a little bunker for the machine gun. Make it happen." The men leapt from their fighting position and went about their duties. Jackson chopped down some bamboo strands and tied them together over their fighting position. It was wide enough for them and the sergeant to stick their weapons out.

About 25 yards down the line lay an opening. That opening was guarded rows of sharpened bamboo pikes backed up by a line of concertina wire. Along that 25-yard open stretch was a minefield that was further backed up by 10 marines with rifles and machine guns. Paul kept an eye out for rustling in the trees and bushes. He opened the action slightly to make sure he had a round chambered before closing it. By the time it was sunset, they were finally done constructing their fighting position.

Night soon followed. Long hours of quiet followed, save for the wind blowing against the trees and the soft cooing of tropical birds. Paul took a sip out of his canteen that shimmered in the pale moonlight, the cool water soothing his dry throat. Paul looked to find Jackson asleep, his eyes softly shut in restful sleep. He turned to Luke on the Browning, who scanned attentively for anything unnatural in the jungle. Luke gave Paul a nod as he continued to scan. Paul couldn't find where the sergeant was. It felt as if he was a shadowy presence than an actual flesh and blood man in their bunker. If the sun couldn't make out his features, the moonlight surely couldn't either.

The silence was penetrated by a terrible shrieking noise. Paul ducked down into this makeshift bunker as a shell exploded close to him throwing dirt into his bunker. He saw that Jackson was now jostled awake and ducked down with him. More shells howled into the night and lit up the night with their fiery explosions. Paul turned to find Jackson laughing off the whole affair "Just like the county fair back home!" Paul couldn't help but smile at his friend's comparison of the danger they faced from the bombs to the colorful celebration of light. Luke's eyes were wide with fear as he held tightly to the machine gun. "C'mon you Jap bastards! Quit fucking shelling us and come out here!"

When the howl of the last shell found its explosive mark, the sergeant called for the squads to sound off. Everyone sounded off. Paul said a quick prayer as he clutched the cross he was wearing and shouldered his Springfield from his fighting position. Squinting into the darkness, Paul saw amorphous shadows moving at the perimeter. At that moment, a bright, white light shot above them to reveal men in khaki uniforms and pith helmets with rifles in hand trying to cut the wire. Paul wasted no time putting the sights on the chest of one of them. His target's face was shrouded in darkness, but he could feel his gaze moments before Paul pulled the trigger. The shot echoed throughout the camp as the man crumpled to the ground.

"Japs!" A marine called out. The roar of machine guns drowned out the crack of rifle fire and the baying of the Japanese soldiers as they barred toward their position. The charging soldiers held their rifles at their waist bayonets at the ready. Paul felt rounds whiz by as he frantically shot at moving shadows, cycling his rifle as fast as he could with each shot. Luke continually fired bursts until his machine gun ran silent. "Loading!" Luke called out. Paul rushed to grab an ammo belt to feed it into the machine gun. With a metallic clanging of the charging handle, soon the machine gun was roaring again.

Paul picked up his rifle and sent rounds down range. Errant bullets whizzing by as he prayed their makeshift bunker would hold. Paul glanced at muzzle flash from the sergeants' Thompson as he made his weapon sing. Even the light could not lay a shadow on their leader. He heard a howl of pain close by in the din of battle. Paul checked to see if Luke and Jackson were okay, he thanked God that they were, but he could no longer see the muzzle flash from the sergeants' Thompson. Paul snapped back to reality and loaded his own weapon before returning to shoot at amorphous shadows howling and running at them.

The din of battle continued into the night. Day had finally dawned by the time the last shot cracked into the morning. The pungent smell of gunpowder and death filled the air. The light of the sun revealed a scene of gruesome carnage. Craters from exploded mines and shells were punctuated by the bloody, torn corpses of men in khaki strewn about the field like discarded rag dolls. Paul surveyed the carnage as he turned to Jackson who clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring nod. He turned to see Luke staring in horror at the scene. His eyes wide with shock at the destruction that man was capable of.

Paul glanced at the sergeant, whose body lay crumpled at the bottom of their fighting position his face covered by his helmet. A bloody wound marked where a bullet connected with his chest. Paul removed his helmet to reveal the sergeants' face. His icy blue eyes remained open as they gazed into the bright blue sky. His expression was neutral, almost as if they felt nothing of the fear they all felt during the battle.

All of the men looked at each other and silently knew what to do. Paul closed his eyes and asked his squadmates to help gather wood to make a makeshift cross for his grave. As they were digging, Jackson noticed that he could no longer make out Pauls' features, as they were covered by the shadow made by the brim of his helmet.

#writing #ww2 #pacific #marines

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