Chapter 1055: The Landing Battle

In the original historical timeline, Japan’s kamikaze suicide attacks mostly served as a psychological deterrent against the Allies. In fact, compared to the price paid, the tactical value of Japan’s “Divine Wind” special attack planes was very limited. In the Battle of Leyte Gulf and the Battle of Okinawa, Japan launched more than 2,000 suicide aircraft, but they only sank just over 40 Allied ships. This rate of exchange could only be described as a terrible loss. It was merely an “expedient” measure adopted because Japan no longer had the ability to train qualified pilots.

In fact, if one thinks about it, the fundamental reason is clear: very few aircraft could crash directly into a warship’s waterline like a torpedo. Even if a pilot successfully approached a warship, they could only crash into its deck or superstructure.

But these were also the most heavily protected parts of a warship. The armor in some places was even designed to withstand 380mm cannon shells. It was obvious that these kamikaze planes, which were relatively slow and carried a relatively small explosive charge, could not penetrate the armor in these areas and deliver a fatal blow. Therefore, the Japanese propaganda slogan of “one plane for one ship” was just a self-deceiving joke.

Another reason was that the pilots of these aircraft were, for the most part, just kamikaze team members who had received simple training. It could be said that they had already fallen into a state of madness, making it even more impossible for them to take any effective countermeasures after engaging the enemy. To be able to fly to the destination was already an extraordinary performance; to demand that these novice pilots dogfight with the American fighter units was a bit too much to ask. Therefore, after inflicting some initial losses on the American forces, these planes would be skillfully shot down halfway by the American pilots.

But Yagi had still completed his plan. He had piloted his plane and had given a supply ship in the American landing force a hard hit. It is unknown whether Yagi’s luck was simply too good, or whether the Americans’ luck was just too bad, but this plane had just happened to crash into a ship transporting munitions. The massive explosion had thus helped Yagi complete his final attack—this American transport ship had exploded into a ball of fire and had instantly sunk beneath the waves.

The American landing fleet had four warships damaged and one ammunition ship sunk. This news had instantly shocked the U.S. Navy, which had been preparing to easily crush the Japanese army, out of their complacent state. They began to dispatch large numbers of aircraft to harass the Japanese-controlled island they were about to land on, and implemented a more stringent air alert.

The landing plan would not be canceled because of such a small setback. So the U.S. Navy, in accordance with their original operational plan, began the operation to capture this island. By the time the U.S. Navy’s warships had spread out in a line on the horizon, Major General Ishida, who was watching everything from the top of a mountain with his binoculars, finally knew just how pale and powerless his own army’s preparations were in the face of this American giant.

He had already ordered his troops to dig trenches for several days in a row, but these trenches and fortifications, in the face of the American fleet he was seeing, were as insignificant as an anthill. He lowered his binoculars and then turned his gaze to the dozens of insignificant trenches that were adjacent to the beach, not far below his feet.

BOOM! The distant roar of a great cannon firing came from the horizon. The distant American warships were not even within the range of the Japanese 70mm and 105mm cannons. The firepower layout that Ishida had so meticulously prepared, in the face of the American 203mm cruiser main guns and the massive number of 155mm cannons, had no chance to even play its part.

Hundreds of shells instantly swept over the Japanese army’s positions on the coast. These large-caliber shells were something these new Japanese recruits had never even seen before. Knowing that the Japanese Army had once been beaten all over the place at Nomonhan by the Soviet 122mm cannons, one could imagine the state of mind of the Japanese defenders who were now cowering in their trenches.

“Bakayaro!” Ishida suddenly felt the urge to kill. He really wanted to find a chance to go back to the Imperial General Headquarters and properly ask those bastards who had done everything they could to conceal the news of the frontline defeats: “Whose side are you really on?”

Along with the concealed news of the defeats, the specific analysis and description of the American navy’s powerful strength had also been covered up. Ishida had, in accordance with the requirements mentioned in the Japanese Army’s operational manual, built his anti-landing positions in the relatively more strategic locations along the coast. But in the face of such an overwhelming barrage of artillery fire, he really couldn’t think of any reason to prove that his subordinates, who were being baptized by the fire, could survive.

It could be said that in the face of the U.S. Navy’s superior naval gunfire coverage, his battle was already lost before it had even begun. His soldiers had not even seen the enemy they were supposed to see, and they had already collapsed. Ishida’s hand was gripping his officer’s sword so hard that he squeezed his order from between his teeth: “Send a direct telegram to the Imperial General Headquarters! Tell them that to continue to conceal the strength of the American navy is to just create trouble for the men who are preparing the defenses behind us… Be as polite as possible. Use honorifics.”

In the end, reason had triumphed over his impulse to curse. Looking at the defensive positions that were already shrouded in a pall of thick smoke, he knew his defense line was completely finished. All he could do now was to pray, to pray that the U.S. Marines would land quickly, so that he could at least retain some strength to expend some of the American soldiers’ lives.

Unfortunately, the Americans clearly had no intention of speeding up their landing. The large-caliber naval guns on the destroyers and cruisers, as if they were free, poured their shells onto the Japanese positions. One after another, the explosions kicked up one cloud of black smoke after another. The entire small island seemed to be trembling, trembling from this round after round of shelling.

“The enemy has at least 5 cruisers, and more than 10 destroyers and light cruisers… The shelling is very fierce. Brigade Commander Akino just called, saying his unit has already suffered more than 200 casualties,” the chief of staff, standing behind Major General Ishida, reported, holding a telegram. “The two cannons of the independent anti-tank battalion have also been completely destroyed.”

Major General Ishida had never expected those two small 37mm cannons to be able to destroy the U.S. Marines’ tanks on the beach. He was more willing to believe that his anti-tank mines could do the job. But his mines, along with these cannons, were also finished, having been blown to who-knows-where by the American naval shells.

The shelling, which had begun at ten in the morning, continued until Major General Ishida was so numb that he couldn’t even be bothered to give the order to abandon the second-line positions. Only then did it stop. Then the sky-blotting American transport ships began to assemble in the direction of the beach. The landing craft were lowered, a dense mass of them, approaching the coastline.

“It’s… finally starting.” Major General Ishida felt that the palm of his hand, which was resting on his officer’s sword, was covered in sweat. He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing that the Americans were starting their attack now, because he really couldn’t be sure how much resistance was left on his first and second lines of defense.

A few minutes after the shelling had begun, he could still contact Brigade Commander Akino’s headquarters. But after a round of shelling an hour later, the phone line had gone dead, and the radio was also unreachable. Ishida’s command post had already lost its grasp of the situation on the first line of defense.

Seeing the landing craft begin to unload their soldiers, and group after group of American soldiers already trudging through the knee-deep seawater, with the closest American troops only a few dozen meters from his first line of defense, he finally heard a few scattered gunshots erupt from the defensive line.

A few hand grenades were thrown and exploded, kicking up small splashes on the beach. Compared to the massive bombardment from the Americans just now, this Japanese return fire was almost like a joke. But these gunshots and explosions still eased Ishida’s heart a little, because his first line of defense was still there. His fortifications could still play their intended role.

Takemoto Tarō was in his trench, shouting, searching everywhere for a familiar foot. The foot of his comrade, the one who had complained and carried logs with him, had just been blown off by a shell. Before he died, the other had groaned, begging him to find his foot. He was bent over, searching everywhere in the trench, which had been torn into a gentle slope by the shells, hoping to find that missing foot.

Occasionally, a soldier would run past him, holding a weapon and shouting something about the Americans coming, and then run in another direction. Takemoto Tarō couldn’t be bothered to pay any attention. He just kept his head down, looking for his companion’s foot. But soon he stopped, because he had seen the bodies of his battalion commander and several other officers, lying scattered in an open machine gun nest.

It was only at this moment that he realized he should get out of here immediately. After all, the highest-ranking officer of the several hundred soldiers in this trench was dead. A big shot who, on a normal day, would be arrogantly commanding more than 1,000 officers and men, was now just half a body, lying in the cold trench.

Takemoto Tarō quickly ran backward, paying no attention to the soldiers in the trenches he passed, who were still firing desperately at the beach. Some of these men were throwing prepared hand grenades, others were constantly working their bolts, trying to reload their ammunition faster. Occasionally, the sound of a machine gun could be heard in the distance.

This battle was not what Takemoto Tarō had originally imagined. It was not a face-to-face firefight, where they would have the advantage of high ground. On the contrary, he had not even seen a single American to this day, and the result was that he had been routed by the American’s big guns. He jumped over a corpse that was lying in the trench, held his helmet, and ran towards the communication trench in the distance. He had dug that one himself. He was familiar with the terrain there.

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