Big Danny Hale also suffered aloud. He declared that the only difference between New Guinea mosquitoes and Zero fighting planes was that the bugs didn’t need an airfield. In size and poison, he insisted, they were about equal.
At the end of the hour, word was passed to start climbing the lower, wooded sides of the hill. This was to be a far slower and more cautious task than the first few hours of the advance. The Japs were less than a mile above them now. Not even dimmed flashlights would be permitted, except in the hands of platoon leaders. All movements would be as slow as a snail’s and, if possible, as silent.
By touch, and by occasional low whispers, the men kept in contact. There were frequent halts, to let those behind catch up. Only the knowledge that they were nearing the enemy, and would soon be charging his positions, kept the soldiers’ nerves from exploding.
The last and hardest wait came at the edge of the bush, where the coarse, four-foot-high grass began. Scouts had been sent out to locate the Jap positions, so the soldiers’ “grapevine” reported. When they returned, the troops were to move forward. If all went well they would pounce upon their enemies in the first gray light of dawn. The Japs, notoriously late sleepers when they did not expect an attack, would be caught literally napping.
“It sounds fine,” Curly Levitt muttered in Barry’s ear. “But one little mistake of ours could give those people warning. Wouldn’t it have been safer to surround the Nips’ positions and rush them from all sides?”
“Possibly—in full daylight,” Barry whispered back. “But at dawn there’s danger of shooting down our own troops by mistake. Our jungle uniforms are enough like the Japs’ to fool you where the visibility is low. You’ve given me an idea, though, Curly. If the rest of our crew agree, we six might circle around to the enemy’s rear. We’re not under orders, and we’d be taking our own risk.”
“Wait a minute while I crawl around and ask them,” the Rosy’s navigator replied eagerly. “I think they’ll eat it up!”
Curly was right in his guess. The extra risks involved meant little to the four Air Force sergeants. They would go where Barry Blake led, even if it meant charging the whole Jap force with hand grenades.
Fortunately for their plan, the six “guerillas” were on the far right wing of the attacking line. In the darkness their silent departure would not be noticed. Keeping contact by touch alone, they crawled away along the edge of the jungle.
The moon was now well up in the sky, silvering the long grass of the hill-crest. Thus Barry could watch the lay of the land, while keeping in the black shadow of the bush. On reaching the height of land, he stopped.