A War Worth Fighting Part 1
The carrier plowed through the Pacific drawing ever closer to the Japanese shoreline. In the hazy distance beyond the white sand was a tall, ominous building of white brick. From as far as the ship was, a plain eye could make out the tall, black spikes sticking up around the perimeter to mark the lookout towers within the gated barrier surrounding the area.
Carried on the sea was a chilly October breeze that cut to the core, adding to the haunting scene.
Looking over his shoulder at the sounds of shouting, Duo watched as a handful of his fellow soldiers were brought out and into the open.
Not one of those faces was familiar to the braided soldier. No doubt the other captives had invaded the Leyte shoreline at other points. All Americans and all clearly terrified as they neared the ledge to stare at the bank nearing them. [1]
"My God," the bright red-haired young man breathed beside Duo. His already pale skin paled another two shades lighter as he stared with his wide green eyes to the coast. "I-is that really what I think it is?"
One of the white-uniformed guards came up to the braided private's other side at the ledge and smirked in English, "This is where you will spend the last of your days." Opening his arm to the sea and sky, he suggested, "Be sure to enjoy the view. This will be the last time you see the world again."
That said, the smug Japanese officer walked off to rejoin his comrades in preparation for docking.
A small whimper from one of the closely huddled Americans filled the air. "Japan," he whispered. On the verge of hysterics, he shook his head and cried, "Holy shit! We're in fucking Japan! We really are going to die here!"
Violet eyes glued on the coast, Duo said calmly, "Keep your heads. They're trying to get a rise out of us. Do what you can to keep these sons of bitches from getting what they want. If it's the last thing I do, I won't give them a goddamned thing that they want."
Resolved to that self-assigned mission, he cleared his mind and heart of any unwanted fear or doubt. If he was going to be walking into hell, he was going to give the Devil a time at taking his soul.
* * * * * *
He walked down the long corridor, brushing down the green jacket of his green uniform coat along the way. Adjusting his tie, he kept his head up and did his best to keep his nerves from showing. It was rare for the Sergeant Major of the army to make an appearance at the base. Not only had the man arrived unannounced, he'd requested to meet with him specifically.
Clearing his throat as he neared the closed door, he nodded firmly to the uniformed guards flanking the entrance. Turning on their heels to face the door, the guards cleared the way so that he could enter. With only a last moment to collect himself, he took hold of the doorknob and stepped inside.
Seated behind the ornate oak desk in the center of the office, the Asian commanding officer looked up and smiled as he was given a firm salute. "Sergeant Heero Yuy reporting, sir," the young man greeted in their native tongue. [2]
Nodding firmly, the Sergeant Major gestured to the seat before him. "Please, make yourself comfortable, sergeant," he replied in their ancient language. "Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice."
Careful to not make his hair any more unruly than it naturally was, Heero removed the cap from his head and took his seat as requested. "I certainly hope that you were pleased with your inspection of the base," he commented. "We all know the importance of running a tight ship here."
The graying major waved his hand nonchalantly and shrugged, "Yuy, I never have to worry about the way that you oversee anything here. You are without question my most reliable officer of any unit that I run."
His cobalt eyes widening, the sergeant sputtered, "T-thank you, sir. That means more than I could say to hear such words from you."
"I know," the aging man grinned. "And it is about time you heard such words from me after your two years of dedicated service to this army." Folding his hands on the desk, he took a deep breath and went right to business. "In fact, I came here for this meeting to be able to tell you in person that you are to be promoted to First Sergeant."
Gasping sharply, Heero froze in his seat. Such a promotion would be skipping over several steps on the way up. At the age of nineteen, he would be by far the youngest First Sergeant, in full command of other soldiers, in any unit that Japan had to offer.
Such an honor was something that he had hoped to reach after more time to prove himself. Nothing was more honorable than being a man of high rank in the military in Japan... especially so in the height of one of the greatest wars in the history of wars.
Finally coming out of his shocked stupor, Heero shook his head and stammered, "Thank you, sir. I... I do not know what to say."
Extending his right hand, the sergeant major smirked, "Say that you will accept. I cannot think of anyone that I would want to have the job more."
Not needing a moment to consider, the young sergeant released a small laugh and shook the offered hand firmly while rising to his feet. "Of course, sir," he nodded firmly with a wide smile. "I am honored to be given this opportunity. I will not let you down."
Slowly rising to his own feet, the old man chuckled deeply, "I know that you will not, Heero." Releasing his hand, he continued, "The official paperwork and badges will be presented in a few days during my stay here. Before I leave at the start of November in two weeks, you will officially be the new First Sergeant. And this will continue to be your station."
A frown marred the young sergeant's face. "Here at Muroran, sir? You find my service of the best use at this prison camp than on the battlefield?" While there was honor of rank, that rank meant little if one did not actually serve their time in combat.
While Heero had served nearly the whole of his first two years in battle, he was moved to the prison camp for what he believed would be a short stint to assist in holding their prisoners of war. Apparently, that was not going to be the case.
Folding his hands behind his back, the senior officer explained, "We have a very valuable... package arriving here shortly. What I am about to share with you is only to be shared between us, of course."
Somewhat relieved to know that his assignment was at least one of importance, Heero eased a bit. Nodding firmly, he reassured, "Whatever it is you have to say will go no further, Major. You have my word."
"Very good," the older soldier responded. Straightening further, he advised, "Germany's invasion into France came about for many factors. An inside liaison by the name of Treize Khushrenada was one of those factors. He gave information over to the weakest spots of the country that would surely crumble for a swift overtaking."
Intrigued by never having known that there was such a connection, Heero tilted his head a bit. His superior continued, "Treize has since been a great ally to the Axis powers in many ways and asks for very little other than respect and a bit of the power and glory to come after we have won this war. One of those exchanges of favors for his help is to appease a certain... craving of his in certain attractive young men."
Throat drying, the young First Sergeant to be swallowed roughly. "I see," was all that he could manage. "Then this shipment would be something of interest to him."
Waving a finger in the air, the commanding officer snickered, "Wise deduction. Treize has announced that he will be making an appearance to this very camp within the next few months. On a ship that has landed on our shores moments ago, we have several intriguing specimens for him to enjoy as he will when he arrives.
"It is of the utmost importance that we keep in good favor with Treize by seeing that this cargo is in good form when he arrives. His hand in assisting the Axis powers has been monumental in several key battles. Should he remain happy with us, he will expose the weaknesses of Russia and other nations that have been giving us a time. Back before the war, Khushrenada was a man of great influence and power throughout the world. It is best to keep him on our side."
Heero resigned himself to the task at hand and nodded firmly, "I understand, sir. I will make certain that the prisoners are ready for Mister Khushrenada's arrival."
Briefly checking his watch, the superior officer met the cobalt gaze on him to announce, "Well, your charges will be arriving shortly." He paused before sharing, "There is one soldier in particular that Treize is sure to take special interest in. See that nothing happens to him before our guest gets here. You and the men are allowed to have whatever fun with the prisoners you like, but see than he remains as in tact as possible."
Frowning, the young sergeant asked, "Which prisoner would that be, sir?"
Slowly, a smile crept on the old man's face. "Oh. You will know when you see him."
* * * * * *
"They have arrived, Mister Khushrenada," the voice on he other end of the line said simply before disconnecting. Such communications would always remain short and sweet lest one risk the possibility of being listened in on.
While the message was short, there was no need for elaboration. Treize knew exactly who 'they' were and where 'they' had arrived.
Heart racing, the inside liaison lowered the receiver of his phone. Small beads of sweat dotted his brow as the intense rush of excitement flooded him.
At his current station in Germany, there were unwilling young men brought to him on a regular basis, but it was not enough. It was never enough. Nothing was more thrilling than taking and killing as the struggling body beneath him writhed in a mix of forced pleasure and a desperate wish for it all to end.
It would be some time before he would be able to leave Germany. There were too many chess players on the board to allow his obsession get the better of him. He was expected to keep to his end of the bargain by playing a vital role to the powers that be.
Wherever he went, he would always have his wishes provided for. Treize knew that he would just have to wait until he was able to leave his current post for Japan.
His new prisoners were not going anywhere. They would come to writhe and scream beneath him as so many others had.
Oh. They would scream.
* * * * * *
By the end of his meeting, Heero was stationed at the special holding cells at the north quarters of the base. Word quickly spread through the camp that a new batch of arrivals was coming in. There was something in the sea-scented air within moments of that news.
Most of the soldiers stationed at Muroran were bored. Even more were frustrated at not being able to see action in battle. That boredom and frustration was often taken out on the prisoners. The fact that they would now have a few fresh, new faces of captives with them had most of the men on edge... it had them hungry.
Thankfully, the Sergeant Major had made it known to the others stationed at the camp that they were not to get too out of hand with this particular shipment. While the reasons for that were not made clear to them, no one was about to question their commanding officer.
Much to Heero's relief, there was relief and instant respect when his promotion was announced by the major. Most of the soldiers that were now under his command had fought beside him and seen his dedication to defending their country and so they were happy to show their support. Now the new First Sergeant only hoped that things would continue to run as smoothly by the time Treize made his appearance.
Whenever that would be.
The slamming of the front metal door to the base closing jarred Heero from his thoughts. Shouting and screaming from the guards soon followed. That echoing sound only meant one thing. The new prisoners had arrived.
Standing at the entrance of the empty special cells, the new First Sergeant watched as the green-and-brown clad Americans were herded in his direction. Arms stretched out from the cells at either side of the young, dazed men while the officers pushing them along whipped and beat the hands away. The cries from the prisoners joined in with the shouted commands from the guards.
Numbered at a dozen, nearly every new prisoner gazed to their surroundings with wide, fearful eyes that sparkled against their dirty faces. Nearly every one of them struggled to walk on their trembling legs. Nearly all of them had sweat running from their brows in finally coming to grips with their fate.
All but one.
Near the back of the back, there was one soldier with his back straight and tall. Other than an occasional glance of his eyes from left to right, he paid no mind to any of his surroundings. Despite the fact that he was amidst enemies with his wrists tied together before him, there was not a hint of fear about him.
When those eyes looked ahead and locked with Heero's the Japanese soldier could hardly hold back the gasp of surprise that came as an immediate reaction.
Those eyes, somewhat shielded by the long bangs pressed down by the helmet atop, were of a rare violet that he had never seen before. In the dim lighting from overhead, they sparkled like amethysts. And when those eyes locked on, there was the first glance of surprise from the American.
It was no doubt to the new First Sergeant that the surprise came on because of the shade of his own eyes. Every Japanese soldier and guard had dark, deep brown eyes. For an Asian to have the striking cobalt blue eyes that Heero had was always quite the shock to those that did not know him.
Violently if needed, the group was pressed on past the entrance to the special cells. All the while, Heero and that violet-eyed American never took their eyes off each other. There was a defiant, hard look about the fair-skinned youth. Upon a closer examination, it was clear that he could not have been any older than the sergeant.
But then, as he passed, came the most striking feature that made the prisoner stand out from the rest even more than his eyes. Hanging from the nape of his neck was a long, thick braid that reached down past his backside.
On the first glance, Heero knew who the Sergeant Major was referring to as the one prisoner that Treize would take a most special interest in. Just as the old man had mentioned, he would know him when he saw him.
Still moving on, that American never tore his eyes away from Heero's as he turned his head back over his shoulder to watch him. Finally, the group was separated into their private holding cells. All the while, the screaming and shouting had never stopped, but the sergeant was only aware of it when the man watching him was gripped by the arm and roughly thrown into his crude holding quarter.
The metal wire gate was slammed closed behind him.
With a deep breath, Heero slowly approached the closed cell bearing the long-haired American. His hands gripping the wire door, those violet eyes met cobalt once more. Nearing the cage, the sergeant adjusted his uniform cap by the brim for a good inspection of his charge.
A small smirk curled the American's lips as the stare-off continued.
Glancing over to the entrance of the special cells, Heero saw a handful of his men watching the striking American with a threatening look in their own dark eyes. The sergeant knew that look. He knew the brutal things that those soldiers wanted to do to that captive to break him down.
First thing to go would be that long rope of hair. Then perhaps a couple of fingers or toes. Whipping and other lashings would soon follow. From there, the forms of torture would be up to the preference of whomever was delivering it.
Defiance from a prisoner was not acceptable for these guards. Only complete surrender and defeat were welcome.
Just as complete loyalty to one's death to defend their nation was the only way for a Japanese soldier.
Roughly, the First Sergeant swallowed in realizing that he had his work cut out for him with this assignment.
In the back of his mind, Heero silently hoped that Khushrenada would not be long in arriving in Japan.
Keeping this one alive and as 'intact as possible' was going to be his most difficult feat in the entire damned war.
TBC...
[1] Just to prove I did my homework to have Duo (an Army member) taken, here is a text-book note on one of the battles involved with the island hopping:
On October 20, 1944, the U.S. Sixth Army, supported by naval and air bombardment, landed on the favorable eastern shore of Leyte. That is the where I have written Duo as being taken from. So it was not only the navy involved in the Pacific battles.
**Also, I looked up names and locations of actual prison camps. Muroran was an actual base/prison camp where soldiers were held. I am trying to keep this as historically correct as possible.
[2] Unless specified, the language between Heero and any other soldier of the base is spoken in Japanese. Instead of going back and forth with translations and making this take forever for me to write, it's just better to write everything in English.
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