A War Worth Fighting Part 23
February 19, 1945.
"Here we go!" Wufei exclaimed into his air mask while pushing down on his plane's controls to get closer to the action down below while avoiding the air flack in his way. In his descent, he caught up with two fighters that he had been dancing around for the better part of the afternoon.
Dark eyes narrowing, he locked one plane into his target field and fired. A few rounds pummeled into the side of the craft as it burst into flames. The second pilot, however, was able to maneuver himself behind the Chinese-American and tried to return the favor.
Narrowly avoiding the gunfire on him, Wufei spun and weaved his plane every which way he could until he was able to get his enemy in sight. Before the other pilot could get another shot off, he pulled his trigger first and took the Japanese fighter out of the sky.
Panting heavily from his efforts, Chang took the brief lull to peer down to Iwo Jima and the hell that was erupting there. The U.S. Marines were finally starting to make ground from where they’d landed, firing and taking out as many Japanese gunmen as they could. And in the sea behind them, dozens of bodies floated while making the bubbling water around them red.
With a shake of his head, Wufei muttered, "My God." Then, at the sight of a new wave of U.S. fighter planes making their way to the island to relieve the first shipment of pilots, he sighed in relief and pushed his craft in their direction to return to the Enterprise. Johnny and seven others of their original fifteen-man squad quickly caught up to follow him.
And not a moment too soon. The Japanese were sending up a new wave of pilots as well.
Only when he was safely past the last of the reinforcements was the Chinese warrior finally able to breathe. Looking over his shoulder and past his shrapnel-splattered cockpit hatch, he watched those fresh pilots move in for battle and said quietly, "Good luck, guys."
If the next hour was anything like the one he and his team had endured, the new recruits would be in for a trying time.
Moments later, Wufei and the remainder of his comrades landed on the Enterprise's deck. There was no time for celebrating or congratulatory pats on the back from the crew as the mad rush for maintenance and refueling began the moment the planes were rolled into their lots.
Removing his mask and gear, the young pilot opened his cockpit to jump out quickly so the staff could get to work. From where the ship lay docked, the sounds of explosions and pops from consistent gunfire could be heard along with distant screams and hollered orders.
"Hell of a fight out there, man!" Johnny called just as Chang caught sight of the redhead running towards him. "I knew it was going to be a bitch, but this is something else!"
Nodding his head of dark hair, Wufei stared out to Iwo Jima and replied, "It's certainly not going to be a quick little skirmish. For such a small island, there are a hell of a lot of troops there. It'll be weeks before we can control the whole of it."
Johnny looked away from the struggle to smirk at his friend and offer a slap on the back. "Damned nice flying out there," he complimented. "Keep this up and you'll be as good as I am." The eye roll he earned had him laughing.
With a glance to his watch, the redhead suggested, "We better get below deck and rest up before our team is up again in four hours. The more shuteye we can get in the better." Just then, another loud explosion shook the air. Swallowing roughly, Johnny frowned, "If we can get any rest, that is."
Lightly patting the bottom of his plane's nose where he had painted in white letters 'For the Essex', Wufei chuckled deeply and led the way to the stairs leading down to the living quarters.
* * * * * *
After a light breakfast and water that came from melted snow to spare their own supply from being used, Heero and Duo had set out for a second day of traveling. The mood between them was much less tense as they were now in the clear of any soldiers looming around.
Good thing, too, as they were now coming upon wide clearings, free of any shelter from trees for miles. Dragging fresh brushes behind them as they walked side-by-side, the pair talked quietly while admiring their surroundings.
"I have never been to these parts before," Heero stated while scanning the white-capped terrain. "But I have heard of how beautiful these fields can be when spring and summer arrive."
His own head turned the other way as he appraised the large clearing, Duo remarked, "Between the flowers and wildlife that could be found here, I'm sure it is beautiful here." Chuckling lightly, he looked over to his friend and said, "You know, before the war, I always wanted to visit Japan."
The sergeant snorted and met the violet gaze locked on him. "Really?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a tone that said that he did not believe the comment.
Shaking his braided head, the private grinned, "No, I mean it. Ever since I was little, I wanted to travel the world. Italy, Ireland, Britain, Germany, Russia, Japan. Granted, this was not how I wanted to be acquainted with the place, but I hoped to see it one day."
Cobalt eyes blinking in surprise, Heero looked ahead and remained quiet a moment. "This country is all that I have ever known. And now... I am even more unwanted than I was when only my eyes made me stand out." Biting his lip, he admitted softly, "I never did think far enough ahead to plan out what I will do or where I will go. You have a home to return to. I am home and I will never be welcome here again."
Stricken by that, Duo froze in his steps and straightened with wide eyes. Without hesitating, he cried, "You can come to live with me in the States! Your mom, too!"
Halting in his own progression, Heero turned to face him with a look that silently asked his friend if he were mad. "How would that ever be possible?" he laughed bitterly. "I am an enemy of your country and so I cannot believe that I would be very welcomed there! That is one of the last places-"
"Zechs will make sure that it happens!" the braided soldier cut off. Closing the distance between them, he reassured, "My mother and her boyfriend are both in with Congress. They can make anything happen. All I would have to do is ask for them to do this one favor and they'll see that you become a citizen there without any problem! They wouldn't hesitate after you saved my life like this!"
That was certainly something that the officer his not considered. His shoulders slacking, he breathed, "Y-you would see to that... for me?"
Laughing, the American threw his arms in the air and yelled, "Of course I would! I love you! I'd do anything for you!" Actually hearing his words, he gasped and froze stiff again, violet eyes as wide as they could grow.
No less shocked, Heero's breath rushed out in a puff of vapor between them. "Love me?" he whispered in disbelief. "You love me?"
Duo blushed crimson and lowered his braided head to stare at the white ground. "I have for a while now," he muttered. "Just never got around to saying it, since I don't know how you feel."
A small smile tugged Heero's lips just before he lifted his friend's head from under the chin to give him a chaste kiss. "Love is not something that I am completely familiar with, myself, but I believe that I do love you. It is the only explanation for my actions of the last few months."
Just realizing that he had been holding his breath, the private asked, "Then you'll come to live in the States with me? Take up my offer?"
"It is something I will take into great consideration," the sergeant nodded. "We can discuss it again later." Reaching out with his free hand, he took his partner's and squeezed it. "But for now, we need to keep moving before we lose daylight."
Tightly gripping the hand in his own, Duo held onto the brush with the other with a wide grin. Their hands remained joined for the rest of their traveling that day.
* * * * * *
Word of the battle in the Ardennes reached the Maritime Alps, sending a shockwave of relief and excitement through the Puerto Rican 65th Infantry there. Such news was more than welcome as yet another huge win for the Allied forces.
Before long, rumblings spread throughout the army as to when they would have their shot at the Germans. Small of a unit as they were, no one had their hopes up at being at the front of the assault. But being involved somehow would have been nice.
It had been over a week since the infantry last saw action in the mountains they’d secured. And many of the troops were getting restless.
Even Trowa was becoming anxious. Sitting amongst his team as he cleaned his sniper rifle as a way to occupy himself, he thought of the many lives taken by his trigger. While he was not one to count his casualties like notches on his uniform, he knew that he was responsible for many lives. At the very least, he was sure to see that they were taken out quickly and painlessly.
Despite his own reservations in killing, he knew his role and the reasons he did what he did. War was never pretty, but a necessity in this case.
While he did feel the occasional guilt associated with his position in life, Trowa was ready for Germany. Securing and occupying that country meant that the war would be reaching its end soon. And few wanted that more than he did.
There was going to be more suffering from both the Allies and the Axis sides. But at least it would finally come to a head. The killing and dying would finally be over.
Juan sat himself heavily beside his tall Latin friend and handed over a handful of envelopes while grinning in their language from home, "Mail arrived. That sister of yours must be going crazy judging by how thick some of these letters are."
Yes, there had been enough of a lull in the action that mail was brought in nearly every other week for the infantry. Just another sign of how boring their current station was. The letters that sifted in were a means to keep the men from going crazy.
Chuckling deeply at his comrade's comment, Trowa took up the letters and opened each envelope in the order of the oldest post date to the latest. As he always would, he took his time in reading, taking in every word while imagining Catherine's voice reciting him her messages.
Just as expected, the vineyard business was doing well. Enough so that his sister had to employ extra aides. More land was being offered and she was in careful consideration, asking Trowa what he thought of the prospect of expanding. There was a small leak in the house's roof that needed patching-one of the things that the Latin soldier would normally have seen to himself were he still there.
Never before had the young sniper so missed the maintenance work that once seemed tedious and a nuisance. He wanted to be the one closing that leak in the sweltering heat, nearly breaking his back in the effort as he would have found more patches to repair. The work was never done, but now it would have been a burden he would gladly have taken up.
One thing Trowa was certain of was that he would never complain about anything again. Nothing would ever be taken for granted again.
Catherine's writings went on to voice how she missed Trowa. How she hoped and prayed for his safe return. How proud their parents would have been if they were still around. Much of the same compared to every letter she wrote-but it never lost its value. Never lost its importance to hear those things.
Gingerly folding the last of the letters and replacing it in its envelope, the sniper cleared his throat past the lump forming there. Placing his offerings in his pack, he sighed quietly and stared into the fire that his team had just built against the darkening sky.
Sooner or later, the damned war needed to end. More determined than ever, Trowa vowed to do whatever it was asked of him if that meant that day would come. Even if he had to walk through Hell barefoot to dance with the Devil himself.
Lightly patting him on the shoulder after reading his own mail, Juan asked, "You all right, my friend?"
"Yea," Trowa nodded without looking away from the flames. "I'm all right."
Grinning widely, Juan nodded firmly, "Good." With a cautious look around, he handed over a tall box that was hidden under his coat. "This came from Catherine as well. I have a feeling I know what it is, so open it carefully."
His emerald eyes widening, the sniper accepted the box and instantly knew what it must have held, as well. It was just the right size and shape...
Opening the box, he laughed when he pushed away the paper stuffing to find a bottle of wine made at his family's vineyard. On the label was their trademark logo of a painted picture of grapes and the words 'Barton's Choice' rounding the top.
A small note taped to the nozzle read in Catherine's handwriting, 'A Little Taste From Home.' Snickering, Trowa carefully removed the bottle and appraised it as a jeweler would handle the finest diamond in the world.
Once he was certain no officers were around, he smiled to his team of five as they turned to face him when he raised the bottle to announce, "We drink well tonight, boys."
Never before had wine tasted as good as it did that evening.
* * * * * *
February 23, 1945.
Wufei and his team circled the air around Mt. Suribachi, the predominant rise on the coast of Iwo Jima where some of the more brutal rounds of the battle took place. Below them, six armed marines stabbed the base of a large American flag into the plot of land and pushed the pole to stand upright as a picture was taken. [1]
It was the second flag rising since the U.S. military arrived there. While the fight was far from over-the island far from secured- it was a true image of hope to see that there was a clear movement in the right direction for a victory there.
Small tears filling his eyes, the Chinese pilot smiled behind his air mask before turning his craft around to return to the Enterprise with the rest of his team behind him.
Moments later, when they landed back on the great carrier, Chang and his comrades stood at the edge of the deck to admire the view of the waving flag until the sun began to descend below the multi-colored skies.
Beside the Asian pilot, Johnny shook his head and asked quietly, "You ever seen anything so beautiful in your life, man?"
"No," was all that Wufei could answer in little more than a breath as he continued to stare at Mt. Suribachi. "Never in my life," he whispered with a small smile.
* * * * * *
The flight was a welcomed change from the arduous crawl that he had been making across Europe. Upon his arrival in Japan, he was given a respectful welcome and was treated like royalty regardless of his scruffy, unshaven appearance.
Pleased with his decision to leave, he had the feeling that his new accommodations were going to work out nicely.
In spite of the exhaustion from his travel, Treize's spirits were rejuvenated. It still remained that Japan was doomed as soon as Germany fell. Nothing was going to change that. Many of the soldiers' faces around him were going to perish if their leaders did not get their wits about them and surrender.
Little did anyone know that the very person they thought was going to help them defend themselves was going to be gone by the time the worst befell them.
After this little vacation, Treize would go into hiding once more to allow the smoke to settle. Switzerland always was a wonderful country. With no direct ties to the war, no one would know who he was or his influence to some of the key battles that the Axis powers had won. There he could make a new home and a new start for himself.
In the end, there was always a place for people like him. Greed and lust of power would always be an influence in even the most diplomatic of folks.
Perhaps there may never be another war of this scale, but there would always be fighting. Always be a want for more that would drive people over the edge of their reason. And those like Treize would always be needed to collect and relish in the rewards that others fought hard for.
He would be just fine when it was all said and done.
Taking in his surroundings as he was ushered by guards at either side of him through the military airport close to Muroran, he bowed his head respectfully to the Sergeant Major at the end of the walkway.
Graciously returning the gesture, the old man smiled and said in his own language, "Welcome to Japan, Mister Khushrenada. It is a great honor to have you here at last. Considering the late evening, I take it that you would like a place to rest for the night before I bring you to the rewards of your efforts that were agreed upon as soon as you are ready tomorrow?"
Grinning at that, Treize chuckled quietly to himself.
Yes. This was going to work out quite nicely.
TBC...
[1] The infamous picture and the stories around it can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raising_the_Flag_on_Iwo_Jima
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