On the third day after the Japs’ first raid, the field’s commandant called all his officers together. These included the air as well as the ground forces. Between the regular whoomp of bursting shells, the colonel outlined his plan of attack.
“Tomorrow,” he stated bluntly, “we shall attack the enemy position on Grassy Ridge. I should like to have had artillery here to soften up our objective, but we cannot wait for it to arrive. A surprise attack must take its place. After dark the infantry will move forward as far as possible. They will carry iron rations, and ammunition for their weapons. The attack will be at dawn.”
“How about supplies, in case the Japs aren’t routed by the first assault?” an infantry captain asked.
“In that case, our engineers will open a jeep road through the bush with bulldozers,” the commandant replied. “They’ll start in the morning, and push ahead to the steep hillside a mile and a half from Grassy Ridge. From there on we’ll have to carry all supplies by manpower, including mortars for close-in bombardment.”
“How about us fliers, Colonel?” the commanding officer of the Fortress squadron spoke up. “Do we have to loaf while even the native blacks are doing their bit? Can’t we fix up one runway while the Japs are busy ducking our shells? My boys would love a chance to smash those egg-heads with a few five-hundred-pounders.”
“You’ll probably have your chance, Captain,” the commandant smiled. “Building a road to the Ridge is the engineers’ first job; after that they’ll tackle the field. Don’t let your crews get mixed up in the ground fighting, or some ships may be short-handed when you’re ready to take off.... I think that is all for the time being, gentlemen.”
CHAPTER TEN
HAND TO HAND
Curly Levitt linked an arm through Barry’s as they left the commandant’s tent.