The Old Breed

Chapter 32

Off Peleliu Island

September 21st, 1944

The salty breeze brought up a heavy, wet sea spray, soaking everything, my clothes, skin, the rope netting. The rope was frayed, sharp, cutting into my palms, nothing I could do, only keep going. My pack seemed heavier now that it was wet, digging into my shoulders, weighing me down. My helmet refused to stay in place, slipping down over my forehead, forcing me to stop to push it back up. I didn't want to stop. If I did, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get moving again. My muscles burned, a heavy exhaustion over me, sudden fear, uncertainty if I could make it. The deck of the ship was another twenty feet above me. The sea seemed at least twice that below me. Falling would likely be a death sentence. If I didn't slam into the metal landing craft or get crushed between the landing craft and the much bigger LST, I'd probably sink under the weight of everything. I tried to blot those images out of my mind, hard too, focused myself on just getting on hand over the other. It was becoming harder and harder however, my muscles shot.

"C'mon, Bishop, only a feet further," someone shouted below me, breathless, as tired as I was.

"I'm trying, Lanky," I muttered, no breath for me either, hard pants. I felt sweat now, on my forehead, dripping down into my eyes. I blinked rapidly, my eyes stinging, the sweat pushed out.

"Rocky, how's the ankle feeling?" Nelson shouted from somewhere below, his voice raising to carry over a thunderous volley by a destroyer a few hundred yards beyond the LST. The force rocked our ship slightly, and I gripped the rope tighter, felt it cutting into my palms, gritted my teeth and kept moving. Every step up seemed to make my backpack heavier, my helmet dip lower, my muscles burn more.

"Never been better," Rocky replied, the pain evident in his voice.

"Can you make it up?" Nelson continued.

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout me, Sarge," Rocky responded resolutely.

I looked up, couldn't see much, the bottoms of someone's boots inches from the lip of my helmet, his ass hanging out overhead. He was climbing up slowly, too slowly, forcing me to slow down, the more relaxed pace no respite for my arms. Something clanging caught my attention and I looked up at the bottom of his pack, saw a tear, something round and silver protruding, slipping out more and more every step the man took up.

"Hey, buddy," I started, trying to warn him.

Suddenly it came loose, was falling, and I ducked my head just in time, the canteen glancing off the side of my helmet, hitting my shoulder, falling farther. I heard a few more metallic thuds, it hitting more helmets, shouts and curses.

"Who the fuck dropped their canteen!" someone bellowed from below, Bear.

A few more people echoed their sentiments. The Marine ahead of me stopped for a moment, looked down, a youthful, recognizable face.

"Sorry," Dgaf shouted meekly.

A quiet settled over us, everyone tired, have been since we'd landed only a week before. This had been the final obstacle for us, one that had almost seen men flat out refuse to follow orders. There hadn't been enough room on the dock for our LST. Instead we mounted Higgins boats to climb up rope nets, the likes of which we had climbed down on the morning of our landing on Cape Gloucester. Our only motivation had been the fact that this was the ship that would finally carry us away from the fiery hellhole that was Peleliu.

I was only a few feet from the top when I suddenly came to a grinding halt. I tried lifting my arms. They wouldn't move. Blinding pain flashed through my arms every time I tried using the muscles. They'd done all they were able to do. For the first time since landing, I had stopped dead in my tracks. Lanky shouted up at me from below, put a hand on my boot, trying to push me up but I wouldn't, couldn't, budge.