Escape to Pagan Read Free Page B

revolver being cocked made him turn his head. He instantly knew he had made a foolish mistake. It was the severity of his victim’s head wound that had initially fooled him. The lucky Buddhas around his neck, given to him by his mother before he left Japan, had deserted him. Almost immediately two heavy blows hit his back. One bullet passed straight through him, the second bullet shattered the young Japanese officer’s spine. Even before his body hit the ground, his spirit had quickly ascended and began the long flight back to the misty islands of Dai Nippon to the sacred shrine at Yasukuna to become a falling cherry blossom every spring.
    The sergeant would soon learn the name of his would-be executioner: a name he would never forget. The Japanese officer’s details became known when his body was searched later by a Japanese speaking doctor from the military hospital who was a resident of Hong Kong.
    Earlier that morning the young 2nd Lieutenant Nakamura, attached to Lt General Takashi Sakai Headquarters, had spent the morning running around tending to the senior officer’s demands and getting his face slapped. Despite coming from a rich family (judging by the quality of his sword) he had first to serve eight months as the lowest of low, a Second Class Private. He was treated brutally by his NCOs and comrades with longer service which was as good as rank in the Imperial Japanese Army. Face-slapping was the least of his problems that day; he had not as yet personally blooded the sacred family blade, proudly handed down to him by his father. During three months in China the opportunity had never arisen. The letter home was longoverdue. To save time he had already gone through the vital ritual of purifying the ancient blade with water that morning; a blade tempered and beaten over 700 times by a craftsman.
    That morning General Takashi Sakai wanted his Headquarters closer to the front, the General left with his senior staff. It fell to the young 2nd Lieutenant Nakamura to organize the move of the headquarters, allowing him the opportunity to search the Golden Hill battlefield. He was now walking through the battlefield seeking life among the dead. The crimson spray needs to be driven by a live pumping heart; beheading a corpse was beneath the dignity of a Samurai. The act is an artistic form of beauty to a warrior of Nippon.
    The young enemy officer’s eyes fell on Sergeant Jack Devereux whose body he noticed twitched periodically in spasm. It is also possible he may have recognized the tall sergeant from his observations, while squatting (in that position westerners find most uncomfortable) under camouflage a few hundred yards to the front of D Company, the day before the attack. The Allies, during the early stages of the war, had not as yet appreciated the enemy’s skill at camouflaging their positions.
    The men who later found the Sergeant assumed that the young Japanese officer was blooding his sword; it is also possible the enemy officer was administrating the coup de grâce known to his race as a “warrior’s compassion”.

    â€œJack said that the exertion of lifting his arm and pulling the trigger of his revolver made him feel faint; the noise of the two revolver shots made his head wound throb in agony. He passed out again. Jack welcomed the oblivion as it divorced him from the pain and his raging thirst. When he awoke the flies had gone, leaving only maggots to take their place. He could now feel them in his head eager to burrow deeper into his living flesh, into the dark depths to escape from the hot sun.
    â€œThe following day while foraging amongst the dead for medical supplies, a group of Royal Scots and a medical officer who was fluent in Chinese and Japanese came across Jack and found him still alive,thank God. The dead Japanese Officer’s body was lying nearby and was searched. The search revealed the young Japanese Officer belonged to the 38th Regiments Headquarters.