The Far Reaches by Homer Hickam Read Free Book Online Page B

heart to pick up their swords. With the stink of cordite still hanging heavy in the air, Ready ducked inside the bunker to see what was what. It proved empty of people but filled with maps and books and filing cabinets. On a table was a topographical map of Betio atoll. There were Japanese symbols all over it with arrows pointing this way and that. Tucker came up alongside. “What do you make of it, sir?”
    Ready was a bit awestruck. “I think we just killed the officers in charge of this place,” he said in amazement.
    â€œSo we done good?”
    Ready supposed they had.
    Outside the bunker, he called the
Ringgold
sailor. “Who did you say you was again, sir?” the voice asked.
    â€œMajor Deer,” Ready answered, checking his name tape again just to be certain.
    â€œ ‘Sir, beg pardon, but your name is Reed,” Sampson pointed out as gently as possible, and Ready realized he’d been looking at the name upside down. Sheepishly, he turned off the radio and looked at the three marines who were looking back at him.
    â€œI just noticed you’re wearing sailor pants,” Tucker said.
    â€œIt’s because they fit,” Ready answered.
    Tucker opened his mouth to say something else, but all of a sudden, a dozen Imperial marines appeared from behind the bunker and began to scream bloody murder over the bodies of their officers. They were clearly not pleased with the situation, and all Ready and the three marines could do was run for their lives.
    So that was what they did.

7
    At sea, there was a big explosion, and Josh saw a Higgins boat upended by a direct hit from a big artillery round. Nasty smoke boiled from a wound in its side, and then a dozen men crawled overboard, stood on the reef for a moment as if uncertain what to do, and then fell, cut down by an unseen machine gun. Josh finally came upon a marine fiddling with a pack radio. “Does it work?” he asked.
    â€œNo, sir,” the radio operator answered. “It got wet coming in.”
    â€œFollow me,” Josh said. “Bring the radio.”
    â€œWhat for? It’s no good.”
    â€œMaybe we can fix it. Come on.”
    The marine reluctantly picked up the waterlogged radio and emulated Josh’s low dash behind the seawall. It was tricky going because of all the dead marines. It was easier just to step on them, though Josh felt like apologizing each time he did it. Then Josh found what he was looking for, another radio operator, this one looking disconsolately at his battered set. Josh fell down beside him. “Does it work?”
    â€œNo, sir, and I don’t know why,” the second operator said, eyeing Josh’s collar and his rank. “I kept it dry coming in.” He raised his canteen. “You know where I can get some water? I can’t keep this puke down, and I’m dry as dust.”
    â€œGet that radio working and I’ll call for water.”
    The radio operator shrugged. “I’m a little short of spare parts.”
    The first radio operator arrived and laid his radio down beside the other one. “See if you can make one out of two,” Josh told them. “And keep yourself alive if you can. We’ve got some important calls to make.”
    Fifty yards on, Josh finally found a live officer, a tall major with a fieryred mustache who was squatting in the sand and pondering a map. Crouched around him was a mixed group of exhausted amtrac drivers and riflemen. When Josh hailed the major, the man looked up and blinked. A Coast Guard captain in ship’s khakis and brown shoes, armed only with a bloody K-bar, was apparently the last person he’d expected to encounter on the atoll of Betio. Josh quickly introduced himself, and the major said, “I’m Major Ryan, sir. Do you know you’ve been shot?”
    â€œThree times, I think. You got a radio that works?”
    Ryan shook his head, and Josh pointed behind him and said,