Chapter 605: The Battle for Kauai
Everyone thinks Americans are a bunch of playboys, a gaggle of rich kids who don’t know how to fight. But in truth, most people don’t understand the American nation. When a crisis comes, this nation is by no means short of heroes. At the very least, throughout the history of World War II, the fighting will of the American people can be described as nothing less than tough.
If someone says Americans are afraid of casualties, then they must have never seen the mountains of American G.I. corpses piled up on the beaches of Normandy. As German machine-gun bullets swept towards them like rain, American soldiers still pushed forward desperately. By the time they finally took the beach, the seawater had been dyed red.
In another timeline, at Bastogne, America’s 101st Airborne Division was surrounded by a superior German force. The German commander sent a letter demanding their surrender, using a commendatory tone to persuade the Americans to give up. The acting division commander at the time, Brigadier General McAuliffe, replied with only one word: “Nuts!”
So, Americans do not lack patriotism, nor have they ever lacked courage and a spirit of sacrifice. What they lack is a reason to fight for their country, a belief to convince themselves to face death squarely. When all those elements are in place, the combat power of the Americans fully erupts, turning them into a terrifying beast of war that tears its opponents to shreds with its deep industrial foundation and patriotic spirit.
Of course, if that industrial foundation has not yet come into play, American patriotism, much like Japanese Bushido, is incredibly fragile in the face of steel. The Japanese bombardment of Kauai drove everyone to despair. Shells rained down on the American positions, destroying in moments the sturdy fortifications that had taken a month to build.
Compared to the nearly one hundred warships of the Japanese Combined Fleet, the artillery the Americans had deployed on Kauai didn’t even have the ability to return fire. The moment they opened fire, they were crushed by the Japanese from every direction: bombing from the sky and suppressive fire from the sea turned their cannons into scrap iron.
“We are reorganizing the defense line. Although several key positions have been severely damaged, they can still be used to repel the Japanese landing,” the colonel who had requested support reported, looking at the field hospital not far away where more than thirty wounded soldiers were crying out in agony. He frowned and assured his superior, “Yes! We will hold our ground, hold it until the order to retreat arrives.”
About a hundred meters behind him, a shell kicked up a sky-blotting cloud of dust and sand, making everyone instinctively duck their heads. The noise was deafening, making it impossible to hear anything clearly. The American colonel had to shout once more to confirm his orders: “Louder! I can’t hear what you’re saying! Yes! We will hold our ground, hold it until the order to retreat arrives!”
Before he could even put down the receiver, he saw through the small space of his observation slit that the Japanese ships had begun to unload teeming masses of Japanese soldiers. These soldiers let out terrifying howls as they climbed down from the warships on rope nets slung over the high ship rails, jumping into landing punts and small boats to launch their attack on the American-defended beach.
“Headquarters? Hello? Is this headquarters? The Japanese soldiers are beginning to land!” He spoke this into the mouthpiece, then put down the phone and turned to several signalmen. “Get to your respective positions! Order the troops to begin the counter-attack according to the original plan! Go!”
“Yes, sir!” The signalmen snapped to attention and saluted, then quickly grabbed their helmets and ran out of the command post. Only then did the colonel pick up the phone again to contact the battalion-level units under his command one by one. He had sent out the runners mainly out of fear that the phone lines might be destroyed or cut, but as luck would have it, he was able to contact all the units under his control.
The American machine gun was the old and traditional Browning, but when this weapon was deployed in a fixed position, its various shortcomings vanished. Its heavy frame provided a continuous and stable output of fire, and its belt-fed system was a hundred times better than the various strange feeding mechanisms used by Japanese machine guns.
Thus, as the Japanese soldiers staggered onto the beach, the carnage wrought by the suddenly-opening American machine guns made the dense crowds of Japanese soldiers pay a heavy price. Bullets swept toward them like rain, a torrent of metal that tore through flesh and raised a faint mist of blood.
“Attack!” A Japanese second lieutenant waved his officer’s sword, encouraging his soldiers to advance through the hail of bullets, but he soon paid a heavy price for his recklessness. A stray bullet from nowhere blew away the hand that was waving the sword. A second bullet sent his entire arm flying.
The nightmare wasn’t over. As he turned his head to look at his right arm, which was now just a stump of bone, another bullet tore through the back of his steel helmet. Its powerful force took with it his eyes, nose, and most of the bones in his face. Amidst the hysterical screams of his soldiers, the second lieutenant collapsed onto the beach like a pile of mud.
Blood flowed down the sand towards the sea. This place was a cruel hell for the Japanese soldiers. In China, in Southeast Asia, nowhere had they ever encountered such ferocious suppressive fire. Not even their own most elite divisions could match the density of ammunition being put out by the American soldiers opposite them.
To catch up with the huge gap in individual weaponry with the German army, the Americans had re-equipped their frontline troops. The M1 Garand semi-automatic rifle began to be issued in large numbers. To the Japanese, who used bolt-action rifles, this weapon was a terrifying existence comparable to a submachine gun. Furthermore, the American forces were also equipped with carbines to close the gap in fire density with the German MP-44 assault rifle. After much effort, the infantry’s ammunition expenditure capacity was now comparable to that of elite German grenadiers. Against Japanese troops who relied heavily on bolt-action rifles, it seemed like overkill.
In the trenches, American G.I.s held their weapons and began to furiously pour their ammunition at the Japanese soldiers opposite them. The dense artillery bombardment moments ago had made these American soldiers suffer terribly. Now the tables had turned, and they naturally had to vent their anger on the enemy in their own way.
“Fire! Fire! Try to aim at your targets! You’ve got them pinned down! Aim and fire!” an American sergeant squinted and shouted orders to his men in the trench. But none of the soldiers around him paid any attention to his yelling. They frantically pulled their triggers, sending bullet after bullet into the crowd opposite them, only stopping when they heard the crisp ping of their rifle ejecting its clip. Only then would they duck down, pull a fully loaded clip from their pocket, tap it hard a couple of times on their helmet, and press it back into the magazine.
A Japanese soldier aimed his long rifle at the American position and pulled the trigger, the bullet accurately hitting an American soldier. However, this Japanese soldier was quickly cut down by machine-gun fire. He died gurgling blood before he could even utter a sound. More Japanese soldiers shouted slogans, calling on the gods for protection, and charged madly towards the American defensive positions with their Type 38 rifles and fixed bayonets.
As time passed, the sea was gradually dyed red. The Japanese were still charging insanely. This time they had cover of all sorts, and this cover was made of layers upon layers of Japanese corpses. The bodies extended bit by bit towards the American positions. In some places, the distance between the two sides was now very close. The Americans returned fire furiously under the shelling of the Japanese warships, while the Japanese soldiers swarmed onto the beach under the cover of their naval guns.
Rat-tat-tat! Tat-tat-tat-tat! In an American machine-gun nest, the gunner was swinging the machine gun back and forth, sending bullets towards the distant enemy. Not far away, in the trench connected to the machine gun post, Japanese soldiers with bayonets were already jumping in. American soldiers armed with shotguns and submachine guns opened fire violently, cutting down all the Japanese soldiers who had entered the trench.
But more Japanese soldiers poured into the trench. An American officer fired the last bullet in his carbine, only to find he had no time to reload. He pulled out his pistol and fired rapidly, knocking down a Japanese soldier who was screaming and charging at him.
However, another Japanese soldier leaped into the trench behind him and shot the American officer in the back. The bullet passed through his chest. The officer collapsed into the muddy water, allowing the heavy boots of the Japanese soldiers to trample over his body.
On the beach, a dozen Japanese soldiers finally managed to haul a Type 92 heavy machine gun ashore. This heavy machine gun, which weighed over 50 kilograms including its tripod, was truly worthy of its name. Of course, compared to the Browning used by the American soldiers, the performance of this “indigenously” developed Japanese machine gun could only be described as average.
But at this moment, a heavy machine gun that could provide continuous fire support could give the Japanese marines, armed with only Type 38 rifles, a sliver of confidence back. With the assistant gunner constantly feeding ammunition plates into the receiver, the machine gun began to spit fire, suppressing the distant American machine gun nests.
With the cover of this machine gun, more Japanese weapons began to be deployed on the beach, including the uniquely Japanese grenade discharger. This weapon could be called a small mortar or a simple grenade launcher. In any case, at certain moments, this widely equipped Japanese weapon was still very threatening. After two accurate hits from the grenade dischargers, the American beachhead defense was finally breached. Swarms of Japanese soldiers surged towards the gap. After three hours of fierce fighting, the battle for Kauai was still raging on.
Published: 2025-09-10T05:12:56.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-01-18T16:57:06.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c605-battle-138561208
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