I Became Stalin?! - Chapter 152:

Chapter 152

<Do you wish to throw the future of the empire into the sea and hope the empire lasts for a thousand years?>

The soldiers grumbled.

This was the last remark left by a young imperial university student who was assigned to a suicide mission.

He had smashed his final drink and said it. It was always brought up whenever there was a suicide mission ceremony.

Ever since Pearl Harbor, the naval and allied fleet commanders seemed to be obsessed with a kind of ‘bombardment omnipotence’.

The mighty cannons of Yamato, which they had boasted so much, were pushed back as a decisive weapon. They only used those Gaiten (回天) torpedoes.

‘Is this gradual interception? While the commander-in-chief is enjoying himself at the Yamato Hotel and the Musashi Ryokan, the young men are heroically incinerated!’

This was the trend of the Greater Japanese Empire’s navy these days.

Submarines equipped with four to six Gaiten torpedoes received supplies from the battleships and patrolled the sea. If they ever encountered an American battleship, aircraft carrier, or any other combat ship, the suicide squad would sortie.

This deadly suicide weapon, filled with two tons of explosives, was called <Kamikaze> by the soldiers. It would speed through the sea and crash into the enemy’s battleship and destroy it. The massive amount of explosives, two tons, could destroy even the new giant battleships of America if they hit them properly.

Even a decent bomber couldn’t carry a bomb with two tons of explosives and hit it accurately. But this innovative manned torpedo could control that much explosives and slam it into the hull of the warship.

“For the Emperor! For the eternal glory of the Greater Japanese Empire, march on, gentlemen!”

“Tenno Heika Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!”

Who would want to die? No matter what they promised, there were no more volunteers for the suicide missions.

They had seen too much. They either blew up the warship and went with it, or they sank and died in the cold sea due to a dud or interception. They knew what the higher-ups thought of them.

Every day, young men entered the Gaiten torpedoes that numbered in the tens and raced to their deaths towards the warships.

They either forced the ones who resisted and slammed the iron lid shut, or the young men barely controlled their speed while intoxicated with opium and liquor, hoping that their death would have at least some meaning.

***

“Those… crazy bastards. There’s no way to deal with this, is there?”

“That’s right… They don’t seem to have any intention of using their warships in this area.”

The damn bastards, the crazy bastards.

The occasional transport planes that dropped off supplies and left were the only force that Japan had deployed in this area.

The mines that filled the sea and the suicide manned torpedoes that flew in at any time. America didn’t know what to do with these old-fashioned weapons with such a crazy idea.

Who would have imagined? That they would abandon their troops on the island and not care whether they lived or died?

But if they bypassed and moved on, General MacArthur insisted that they must thoroughly clear the important bases.

“If we skip too far, we might be ambushed! We must capture the important islands!”

The ‘important’ islands were the ones that had runways installed and could become bases for air raids on the American fleet. Or they had some targets that would make great publicity. Or they were just designated by General MacArthur.

The US air force had long overwhelmed Japan’s, but they couldn’t have enough planes everywhere. And the soldiers had to fill the gap between enough and disaster with fatigue.

Of course, Japan had shed much more blood, if you looked at the amount.

***

“Fuck… this place is fucking crazy…”

“Who isn’t…”

It was time for the mainland to cool down, but the tropical sun burned hot. The US soldiers spent the whole day digging and building a bridgehead on the coast.

They were used to the work by now, but they couldn’t adapt to the heat and the swarms of mosquitoes. Sweat dripped down, and when they slapped somewhere that felt itchy, a mosquito burst with blood.

“From Montezuma’s palace to this shitty beach~”

“We fight the Japs and the mosquitoes~”

The soldiers sang their own versions of military songs and dug trenches on the beach.

The damn Japs did the same thing on land as they did on sea.

The first time the US soldiers saw them charge with swords and shouting banzai, they were always shocked. What, what year is this, to charge with swords? The soldiers were terrified by the sight of the fierce eyes, the bloodshot eyes, and the angry screams.

“That’s until you try the machine gun. Hey, Billy, once you see it, you get over it.”

“…Yeah, sure. That’s why you pissed yourself last time… Ahem.”

“No, that was just a little leak!”

A group of US soldiers made lame jokes and were watched by some people in the dense forest.

In a normal situation, they would have turned the forest that restricted their movement into a wasteland with artillery and bombing, but the infantrymen were left alone here because the cruiser that provided artillery support was hit by a suicide torpedo.

A group of Japanese soldiers took this as an opportunity from heaven and quietly watched the US soldiers who started cooking after digging the trenches.

“Hmm… they are preparing a meal.”

“Is that the smell of… spam?”