Operation Downfall


The year was 1945.

It was a miracle that I survived the gunshot. A single millimetre could've ended it all for me, but it didn't. What was left on my forehead was a walnut-sized gash, and inside my pocket, was the secret military order from a dead man.

It was almost sundown when we began our journey to Sapporo; uncertain if luck would be on our side.

The pilot named Kira led the way. He walked briskly without faltering while I trailed behind him.

Our goal was to reach an "intact" military camp, or at least we hoped to see one in spite of the apparent downfall of the operations in Otaru. I on the other hand, had an extra mission of delivering the message from the Lieutenant Colonel.

My wound was almost dry, covered by congealed blood, and I've already recovered from the slight head trauma. Perhaps it was due to the temperature drop that I felt quite numb.

It was early spring and the wind was cold and moist. Without food and water, we walked non-stop but still unable to reach the main road.

Sapporo is not that far, however we couldn't risk our lives by going straight ahead, for danger was always nearby, concealed by the approaching darkness.

While walking, I couldn't help but to ask the pilot.

"How did you get through the battle?"

He grunted, spat on the grassy earth, and answered. "I know I'm supposed to die, but I refused to. You know what I mean? We were trained to blast our plane straight through the enemy, take them to hell with us, but that didn't happen to me."

He paused for a while. We both decided to have a brief rest. The terrain was still fresh from the earlier combat, with the dark grey smoke, still visible from our position, though we've walked quite far.

Scattered flames from detonated carriers lit up the desolate area.

"I lost two engines while flying above the bunker. It must be a long-range missile fired on the ground that hit my wings. My pane nose-dived but I was lucky enough to escape the cockpit and activate my parachute," Kira continued.

"How about you?" he turned to me.

"How did you get shot? Don't get me wrong," he laughed. "Are you half-conscious or what? How did you let someone shoot you like that? You should've known that someone was close enough to shoot your head."

"I was talking to the man you've seen earlier," I replied, referring to the Lieutenant.

"The Lieutenant must've said something to you," Kira stated.

I thought of diverting the conversation to refrain him from asking more about the secret message given to me, but judging from the way he looked, I supposed he's not a spy or a traitor. If he was, then he could've forced me to disclose the message, given that I'm wounded, which gives him a big advantage if he would physically challenge me.

So I got the piece of cloth out of my pocket and showed it to him.

"I thought so," he said. "But it's not a good thing to show a secret message to anyone, especially if it's not intended for them," he lectured. "But you're not in the military, I understand."

"I am now," I countered.

"An enlisted civilian, that's a proper thing to call you," Kira corrected.

He lit another cigarette, and handed me a stick.

We haven't had anything to eat. Smoking is effective in compensating hunger.

"Why did you do it?" Kira asked.

"You mean, why did I come here?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I wanted to escape," I said briefly. "Escape my upcoming marriage."

"That's suicide! Is your fiancée that ugly?" A short laugh came out of him. Clear smoke drained out of his nostrils.

"Perhaps, yes. And NO, she's not ugly."

"And you want to go back to her after seeing this battlefield of shit right?"

I inhaled another dose of smoke.

"She was given to me. I had to marry her because of some agreement made between our parents. When our relatives insisted on me marrying her right away, I felt confused. So I volunteered to join the army. I didn't want her to expect that much from me. "

"So you ran away."

"Yes."

There was silence after that.

Kira sat on a pile of rubble, removed his prayer belt and spoke.

"My fiancée was a preschool teacher. We both came from Kansai. After becoming a pilot, I never had a chance to go back home. It was only last week that I found out about her settling in Izu. Apparently, her parents found a more suitable man. That's rather unfair for me, isn't it? I'm good as dead, because I took this job, do you understand me?"

His words reflected anger and sorrow.

I knew exactly what he meant. I chose to fight in a war, out of thoughtlessness. I left Cagalli for I thought it was the right decision: to buy some time while I sort out my own feeling of indecisiveness. But now, the consequences slapped me right in the face. I realized that I have to go back.

Our country's situation is getting dire with the invasion of Otaru, and perhaps, Sapporo. Tokyo could be next, one of these days, for sure. I was worried about her.

But Kira is on a dead-end situation. At least I have someone waiting for me, unlike him. If he dies, no one will carry on his will and cry on his grave.

It was a dreadful reality for this man.

"Have you read the message?" he diverted.

"No."

"Why don't you do it? If we get caught and die, at least we know the reason," he said coolly.

He's right. I shouldn't consider myself to be luckier. If we get caught, then we're both dead, and it didn't matter if Cagalli was waiting for me and no one's awaiting him. If the enemy gets us, we'll both have the inevitable ending.

I untangled to string coiled around the piece of cloth and read the contents. It was a series of instructions: How to get to Tokyo after invading the nearby towns, how many reinforcements from the South would come and what to do with the prisoners of war. All came from a foreign general stationed at Mongolia intended for the enemy troupes based at Manchuria. It was an intercepted message, probably through radio waves. The message was encoded three days ago. It was entitled: Operation Downfall.

I handed it over to Kira.

He read it, and afterwards, crumpled the cloth, showing his disappointment.

"They had this information, yet still persisted on defending Otaru, a small nondescript base! Those bastards."

"I know. We were sacrificed to reduce the enemy numbers," I agreed.

The practical move could've been to concentrate the defensive forces on the bases situated near the densely populated cities. Otaru is a small town and was long vacated by civilians due to the Siberian offensive forces. The military detachment stationed there should've been called back, (at least half of its defensive forces) to protect the nearby town, Sapporo. Conversely, they sent a number of reinforcements, including us, enlisted civilians, to defend a falling base. But then, who are we to question? Who are we to tell them that they're gravely mistaken?

The series of B29 attacks and the recent bombing of Hiroshima somehow made our officials desperate. Regrouping is quite impossible, especially if the enemy's right in front of you.

"This message should've been delivered before the Allies landed here but it took them three days to relay the message, from a careless Lieutenant to an enlisted civilian like you!"

The kamikaze pilot was obviously furious.

"They must've trusted the base in Otaru, or underestimated the Allies. If this message never reaches Sapporo, then let's hope they've had a duplicate passed on to another individual." I concluded.

It was only later when I found out that copies of the same message were given to other soldiers, and that, I would not be escaping the danger that awaits us. That only I would be reaching Sapporo.

I woke up to the sound of a loud thud on my right knee. I was sure that we didn't make any fire, or do anything to be noticed by the enemy, but when I awoke, I saw three foreign soldiers; two of them were staring down at me and the other one, holding a long rifle. He was the one who hit my knees. I couldn't find Kira anywhere. He must've been taken away. I suddenly remembered the secret message.

Before taking a nap, we've decided to bury it on a nearby patch of earth, and retrieve it at daybreak. We anticipated this, yet I still felt the fear: A great deal of fear.

The two men ordered me to strip off my clothes. I did obey them and removed my vest, uniform, and my boots. Then they tied me up and hauled me away. The cold air pierced my skin and I felt numbness and pain as they struck my half-naked body.

Someone was leading the way, while the other two were walking beside me, one of them pointing a rifle against my ribcage.

I heard them speak, but couldn't understand a single word. I suspected that they're Mongolian.

We arrived at a small camp, and I saw Kira lying on top of a wooden bench. He was half-naked too. They tied his arms on one side of the bench, while his feet were also tied on the other end.

The others in camp became busy inspecting our garments. They spoke with chilling voices, laughing and then throwing glances at the two of us. Kira's eyes were swollen. His face had a large diagonal incision, most probably done by a pocket knife.

Someone came out of the cottage and mockingly greeted us.

"Banzai!"

Then he went towards me. He was a Caucasian, perhaps Russian. A high-ranking official.

He spoke to me in his native tongue. I understood a little because I was able to study a number of international languages back in college.

"You are at a great disadvantage here my friend," he said. "I suspect you have something with you, which needs to be surrendered – to me."

I looked away, as if I couldn't understand him.

One of the Mongolian soldiers took his rifle and forced it on my ribcage. It was so painful, that I jerked away with a faltering sigh.

My head began to throb once more. I knew that my head wounds started to bleed again. I struggled to get up.

My eyes checked on Kira for he remained silent on the bench. He's still alive at that moment.

The Caucasian spoke once more.

"You know, we could do anything we want. We don't care if we're stepping on your soil. You're a prisoner now. Not even your people can save you."

He whistled towards a man who got out of the cottage holding a scalpel. He signalled him to go to Kira.

"You see, he's a merciless guy," the officer told me. "Allow me to demonstrate how barbaric he is, by using your friend."

The man holding a scalpel approached Kira, held his face with one hand, and stuck the knife beneath Kira's ear. It was a spine-chilling sound that came out of Kira.

The officer spoke: "The man loves peeling apples, and sheepskin, and human skin sometimes."

He smiled; something warped was on his mind.

Kira looked into my eyes sternly, as if ordering me to refrain from surrendering. He had a face of a man ready to face death, to that I hold the highest regard, and so I've decided to that I would not give them what they want, even if they torture me.

The barbarian torturer relished it all: He first peeled of the ears, and then removed the scalp. Kira refused to say anything. All that I heard from him were cries of agony, being dismembered in such a slow pace.

I vomited upon seeing his corpse like a formless lump of flesh. My hands trembled and my ears were ringing. I was on the verge of insanity.

For the second time, I thought about death.

I thought about Cagalli.

She was probably sleeping right now, or writing a letter. She didn't know that I've been moved here. How could she know? I only wrote to her once.

I remembered her last words, asking me if I'd come back for her. But how can I?

She could've been taken by the enemy.

How can I save her?

My head felt like exploding. I charged towards the man standing right next to me. The man landed on the ground and I was able to seize the knife that fell from his hands using my mouth, and thrust it down his throat...

The official stepped backwards, while all the others were aiming to shoot me.

Then he spoke: "Don't waste a bullet on him. You've had your fun, now let him die slowly."

Two men grabbed me by the arm and threw me beside Kira's corpse.

I received another blow and was knocked unconscious.

I woke up later, and the sun was high up. My hands were still tied, and beside me, was my friend's lifeless form. To him, I offered a prayer.

The enemies have left

The scalpel that was used to dismember Kira was within reach. It was soaked with Kira's blood. I crawled towards it, used my teeth to hold the object and slowly sliced the rope tied around my hands.

Without food and water for more than a day, my strength dwindled until I couldn't even bury my teeth onto the scalpel's handle.

Desperation, fear, pain.

How do these feelings compensate a dying body?

I continued until the last string starts to unwind.

I was free...

I took the clothes of the man I killed earlier, and began marching down an unknown path.

I have to go back and save Cagalli. I have lived for that sole purpose.

AN: First of all, the historic accounts do not have any realistic basis (to some extent). All circumstances are fictional. And Apologies for it was a gruesome chapter. I adore Kira, and it pains me to write about him suffering a morbid death.