THE NEW RONIN By Kurt Saxon
Chapter Four: THE ISLAND
The old priest pointed to the debris and said, "Those were the outside warehouses. After the bombardment, they would have appeared to the Americans as the sole purpose of the island. The main entrance to the underground supply depot had been protected by a stone overhang which collapsed during the shelling and so completely buried and hid the entrance."
"The rear entrance is also buried," he continued. "And that is where you will dig. There is no place to land there so you'll have to carry the tools. Bring the jack and a can of gasoline. You won't have to carry them back."
They took the tools, food, tarpaulin and other equipment and trudged a half-mile around the island and then climbed up to the top of the hump. When they got to a point where they could see the boulder-strewn beach below on the other side, Kuwahara pointed to a disfigurement in the terrain. Winded from the exertion, he had the young men sit and rest.
"Down there is the rear entrance," Kuwahara said. "Shortly after the bombardment began that morning, we had no communication with the men outside. A couple of hours after the noise died down I wanted to go out and look the situation over."
The old priest was thoughtful, remembering, "Captain Anoka and the rest tried to argue me out of such a venture. They were sure there would be a landing for mopping up. If I were killed it would be to no purpose. If I were captured, I might be forced to disclose the secret of the island. I had never been so deeply offended. I shouted that I was just as committed to the code of bushido as they and that I had no intention of living if my worthless existence would jeopardize the stores."
Saburo then said, "Sir, I have heard of the code of the warrior all my life. But I've never talked about it to one who lived by it. I mean no offense, but we were taught in school that bushido was a foolish, wasteful and suicidal attitude. Of course, we were a defeated people and bushido had to be discredited by those biased against it. But how did bushido make you think, on a day-to-day basis?"
"Well," replied the old priest, "explaining bushido to your generation is like explaining the pleasure of sex to one made a eunuch in his childhood."
"Bushido," he continued, "is the total acceptance of death in battle. A legendary personification of the code of the warrior said, 'If you think of saving your life, you had better not go to war at all.' Far from being a terrible or suicidal code, bushido, once accepted, gives one a feeling of peace and tranquility. All fear is driven from the mind. The senses are honed to a fineness impossible to one looking for a way out of his duty. Victory or success is all that matters. Thus, the samurai looks down from the heights of accomplishment at all the timid weaklings who make up most of society.
"You have heard it said by our heroes that death is as light as a feather but duty is heavy as a mountain. That does not mean that when faced with difficulty one should end his life. It means simply that hardship and danger must be faced with resignation in hope of rewards undreamed of by lesser folk. Besides, adversity strengthens one. True courage comes only through adversity. For, having once resigned yourself to do or die, courage grows to a point that one cannot be stopped, short of death. When this attitude is applied to civilian enterprises, success is almost guaranteed.
"Also, among all the soldiers in all the armies throughout history, the heroic person increased his chances of survival. Giving no thought for his life, he was more keen to see any defects in the enemy. While his less heroic comrades hung back and became targets, he charged forth and took his objective.
"But as I was saying, we argued about my leaving but I prevailed. My reasoning was that we had to know our situation. We couldn't just hole up forever. If the island were occupied, we would have to blow up the rear entrance. If not, a couple of us could use a collapsible boat from the stores and make our way to the mainland and contact the resistance.
"We had only ten infantrymen in the cave. Most likely, the twenty or so infantrymen outside at the warehouses were dead. I posted all the infantrymen at the rear entrance, instructing them to defend it with their lives. To insure this, the concrete door at the end of the passage to the cave was closed, not be opened unless I pounded on it with my rifle butt in a prearranged signal.
"If the rear entrance was attacked, Captain Anoka said he would open the door and place explosives directly outside in the passage. Thus, the earth would fill the end of the passage and unless the Americans had a lot of time on their hands, they would not try to enter the cave.
"My intention was simply to see if the island was actually occupied. If this were so, I meant to go back in. Even after blowing up the passage entrance, we could still pull open the concrete door and dig ourselves out. We could not imagine the Americans using this island as any sort of base, so we would not have had a long wait inside.
"So out I went. Even as I reached this point, I saw a squad of Americans coming toward the rear entrance on a reconnaissance mission. Our infantry at the mouth of the passage began firing on them and they withdrew while a destroyer offshore resumed the bombardment point-blank at the rear entrance.
"I then made my way to the dock and as soon as I came in sight of it I could see there was no one to communicate with. Only two landing craft were at the shore by the dock, one unloading a bulldozer and the other a tank, after the soldiers had reported being fired upon.
"To the Americans, this was only a small, out of the way island, undeserving of more than one destroyer and one landing craft ship. They had no idea that this was a major supply base, nor did our own people, for that matter.
"By the time I made my way back here, the bulldozer was closing the rear entrance. It was obvious that all the infantrymen defending it had been killed. I had nowhere to go so I began firing at the driver of the bulldozer. I was no rifleman but I'm sure I hit the bulldozer.
"The driver jumped off and withdrew, along with the soldiers. I expected them to come after me or shoot at me from the tank. However, the tank could not maneuver, due to the terrain But in a few minutes, the destroyer opened up on me, one man! They could not have believed there was more than a handful of us up here.
"I looked down and saw the driver of the bulldozer light a cigarette and smoke casually as the shells left the destroyer. He was shirtless and I noticed his helmet strap dangling loose and resting on his freckled shoulder.
"He had the air of one simply doing a job. We made eye contact and I wondered what he could be thinking. Suddenly I knew. He was no warrior. Back in America he would drive a bulldozer, building roads. Something would interrupt his routine and he would get off and have a smoke until a superior solved the problem.
"I was simply an interruption in his work. The others were just like him. And with the war nearly over, why should they take any chances?
"The shells from the destroyer zeroed in on me, seeming to crawl up the hillside. Their explosions rocked the earth under me as they approached.
"Then, one moment I was crouching there filled with wonder at such wealth being spent to kill one Japanese soldier. The next moment I was whirling through a long tunnel. My arms and legs were stretched out as if I were doing a cartwheel.
"I tried to stop myself and reached out to the walls of the tunnel. I could not make contact, however, as a mighty wind blew me along. After a few minutes, I left the tunnel and fell from the sky over my home town.
"I could see the house I have now, which was my mother's house then. I expected to be smashed on its roof. But I went right through the roof and into my bed, under my blankets. I sat up and called for my mother. She rushed in from the kitchen and made a great commotion over my being awake and conscious.
"I wondered at this, for had I not awakened so since I was a child? It took me a long time to realize that in the few minutes since I had been on this island and then woke up at home, two years had passed.
"My mother told me I had been dazed and only babbled senselessly in those two years. I could stumble about the house and often Mother would lead me out and around town for exercise. But I don't remember one thing in all that time.
"Even though I had awakened, I often lapsed back into that world of nothingness. It was several years before I regained consciousness on a permanent basis.
"Before she died, I asked my mother what had happened on the island. Of course, she would have had no way of knowing. Obviously, the driver of the bulldozer and his friends saved me. They were simply working men, after all. Since I was no longer a danger to them, they took me back to their landing craft.
"I suppose they hoped to revive me for interrogation. Naturally, this was impossible, since my brain was damaged. Mother told me that soon after the surrender, the Americans turned me over to our people. I had no identification papers on me, since they stayed in my desk. So I was sent to a mental hospital.
"Therapists there gave me sodium pentothal. After several such treatments they got my name and the name of my home town. After that, it was a simple matter to find my mother.
"Now, consider this. Against the advice of my comrades, I left the cave. Had I stayed I would have died with them, as I know they did die in there. Then the treasures in this island would have been lost forever. Had I been killed here, the treasures would still have been lost forever.
"Had I been conscious but too badly injured to end my life, I might have recovered and returned with friends and opened the cave, but to what purpose? But I was unconscious until two years after the war. Even then, my consciousness was only temporary and my tales of the island's contents were only seen as the babblings of a brain-damaged cripple.
"As it turned out, the secret of this island was preserved until you, my comrades, returned. It cannot be coincidence. It was planned by a higher mind, or minds. Can you doubt it?"
Saburo then said, "Well, if there is indeed such treasures here, I'll be convinced. So far, everything adds up. If I'm not mistaken, the pits around us are where the destroyer's shells landed. It is hard to comprehend, however, how you could have survived."
Minoru got up and looked closely at a piece of rusted metal at the edge of one of the pits. he reached down and dug it out of the earth. It was what was left of a Japanese helmet. It was paper-thin from weathering but on one side was a deep gash.
Seeing it, Kuwahara said, "Yes, that was my helmet and the gash is from the shrapnel which put my brain out of action."
"Look here," shouted Tadashi. He pulled up a half-buried piece of twisted metal. It was Kuwahara's rifle. Its barrel was almost bent double.
"I remember holding it in my left hand while I was searching my jacket for more bullets," said the old priest. "You would think the shell which did this would have taken my arm off. As it was, my left arm was only partially paralyzed."
Saburo looked at his watch and said, "It's nearly noon. What say we start digging?"
The others agreed, except for Takeo, who was stretched out fast asleep. They decided to let him alone as he had not rested since early morning the day before.
They picked up the tools and Kuwahara led them down the steep slope to the bulldozed, overgrown mound covering the cave's rear entrance. He instructed them to dig at a point which would lead to the top of the cave entrance to avoid the danger of a cave-in.
In relays of two digging, two clearing and two resting, a five foot by three foot tunnel gradually took shape. Hour after hour they dug. After a few hours, Takeo joined them and they had their evening meal.
Then they began again and dug by the glow of lanterns, since they were too far in for the failing light outside to allow them to see. Takeo was paired with Yasuo, digging with picks, while Saburo and Hideki shoveled the clods of earth onto the tarpaulin. When a sizable pile covered the tarpaulin, it was gathered by the edges and carried out and its contents dumped into the ocean.
Takeo used his pick as would a machine, rhythmically, with no wasted motion. Yasuo, on the other hand, swung haphazardly, wearing himself out and accomplishing little. After a few minutes he said, "Takeo, I've never done a day's work in my life. Now here I am, sweating like a common laborer and getting nothing done. Show me."
"Alright", said Takeo, "you don't know how to breathe. Imagine your lungs are pistons. Inhale on the backswing an exhale on the forward swing. Also, work on one small area at a time. You've just been flailing away all over your area. One strike should dislodge the earth loosened by the previous strike. Even so, don't expect to compete with me. You don't have the strength or experience in any kind of manual labor. Just do your best."
Yasuo began anew on Takeo's instructions. Within minutes his breathing and swings were rhythmic. His pick did not dig in as far as Takeo's, due to the difference in strength. But his work was adequate and his rest period found him tired but not so exhausted as he was before taking Takeo's instruction.
After their rest period, Tadashi and Saburo used the picks and Yasuo and Takeo shoveled the earth onto the tarpaulin. When the pile was as much as the two could carry, Yasuo bent over from the waist and grasped the edges of the tarpaulin. Takeo stopped him, saying, "Not that way, Yasuo. Bend your knees and let your thighs do the work. Otherwise, you will strain your back."
As the young men got into the rhythm of the work, it proceeded smoothly. By eleven p.m. they had tunneled in nearly twenty feet. Then a shout of exaltation was given as a breakthrough was announced by Hideki and Yoshi.
Kuwahara made his way to the scene. The young men were disappointed when he told them that the tunnel outside the door was blown up by his comrades and the roof had caved in. The bulldozer had just shoved in a few yards of earth. But the explosives had collapsed the slope up to the point where the hollow was reached. The hollow was under the thickest part of the slope covering the rock from which the cave was hollowed.
There were several more feet to go before reaching the concrete door in the rock. Also, the hollow was under a part of the earthen slope which could give way under any disturbance, dropping hundreds of tons of earth onto the diggers.
The old priest was greatly excited. "Just as I had hoped.
They blew up the outside tunnel. That means they had no intention of blowing
up the inside. But be careful now, lest more of the ceiling fall. Let's
go to sleep now and tomorrow you must go back and get lumber from the warehouses
to shore up the ceiling."
The night chill was not enough to keep the young men
awake, as they slept off their fatigue near the mouth of the tunnel. Before
dropping off, Kuwahara remembered his misgivings the night before. He had
seen them as seven young samurai, arrogant, combative, quarrelsome, to
a point, and highly intelligent and individualistic.
He had feared for his chances of combining them into a functional unit. But the experience of this day had shown him another side of them. They did work as a team, with not a single complaint or criticism of each other. Except for Takeo, they were all of middle-class backgrounds, unused to any physical labor.
He had marveled as they applied themselves to physical labor, improving their timing and techniques hour by hour. Their ability to cooperate in the work pleased him. But there was still a nagging doubt. What spoiled university students anywhere would not cooperate and exert themselves while digging for treasure? And when they finally reached it, would not each take a share and go his separate way?
As he lapsed into a half-sleep, something from his higher mind shouted at him, causing him to sit bolt upright. "Fool! These are warriors. They were with you over five hundred years ago when the being you now know a Namoto threatened the whole of Japan. There must be no more doubts."
Was this a vision, his imagination or a command from a
higher plane of consciousness? Kuwahara no longer cared. He simply accepted.
He laid back and slept a dreamless, untroubled sleep for the first time
in years.
Chapter Five: SUPPLY BASE THREE
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