Semper Stultus

[LavaLampMaster]

I found this story I wrote a year or so ago, and so I put it up. It's not that great, but why not?


Since time immemorial, the main concern of Man was largely to kill other things or each other. Before we came down from the trees we had learned to throw rocks at things that wanted to kill us, and soon figured out how to beat things with blunt objects. Once fire was cultivated, Man could take a stick, sharpen it on a rock, and harden the point with fire, making a spear which could impale things. Eventually he learned that by attaching a sharp rock to the end of it makes a better spear, and that one could launch it through the air using a stiff bit of wood and some animal intestines. Man had learned to effectively kill things from a distance.
With the advent of ranged hunting, Man could do something that he never could do otherwise; wage war with other Men. Indeed, he did exactly this, and innovations grew. The wheel, which could be used peacefully, also could be used by taking two of them attached to each other by a rod, pulled by beasts of burded and with a platform placed upon the rod, made the chariot, one of the first vehicles ever devised.
Much later came a new tool of destruction that forever changed the face of warfare yet again. This was gunpowder. With this, Man could launch small metal balls at velocities great enough to rip through a man, or huge balls through dozens of men or thick stone walls.
Many modes of transportation exist for such weapons. Man can carry smaller ones, horses and boats could pull or hold very large ones, and later they could carry themselves if they had wheels and an engine. Man even developed something that could fly and carry weapons and soldiers.
Conflict has always been the root of innovation.

The Trans-Phillipine Trench

It was May 1942, and the war in the Pacific was raging full-force. Japan began its invasion of Corregidor while the Allied forces prepared to defend under the command of marine Colonel Samuel L Howard. Japan's army was under Lieutenant General Masaharu Homma.


Gunnery Sergeant Tom Ghill was stacking sandbags along with the rest of Golf Company and he had seen it all. He survived Pearl Habor, the invasion of Batan Island, and was unlucky enough to be stuck on the island of Corregidor to yet again attempt to fight off bloodthirsty Japanese soldiers. At this point he didn't care who won the Philipines; he just wanted to be back in New Hampshire with his sweetheart. Not that he had one at the time; his last 'sweetheart' left him after a month and joined a Russian convent. She didn't even speak Russian. But he wanted one now, even if just so she could be an excuse for him not to wish to fight and die in a disease-ridden, backward archipelago across the globe like a good marine. Otherwise he'd just look like a coward, which, in fact, he pretty much was. The only reason he enlisted in the first place was to shut his father up. His father was always egging him on to enlist. Probably just because he was in the Great War, and so of course his son should do something equally dangerous and stupid. Trade Jerries for Japs, Kaiser Wilhelm for Emperor Hirohito, Belleau Wood for Iwo Jima, and Alex for Tom, and you'd have the only difference in his mind between the wars.
A man of larger build than Tom's in all ways, he was 6'3" to Tom's 6' even, and more muscular, approached him. The man was his commander, a captain. He looked like he had important news. The cap always did have something big and urgent to say. Even if he needed another cup of coffee, it was a massive operation.
"Gunny," the captain said, "We got Colonel Howard's final defense plan just now. Tell your men to stop their works."
Tom nodded, turned, and yelled at the ment to sop and listen to the captain who started talking.
"Marines, the colonel has just finished up his plan to hold the island against the Japs, so listen up!" he cried, "there will be a network of trenches, like they have up in Europe. We'll make the trenches close enough to the beach so that once that Homma and his japs get here, we can carve the bastards like some turkey!"
Most soldiers hurrah'd, a good many tried not to imagine the water table less than a foot below them, but said nothing about it, until an Army 2nd lieutenant piped up,
"Sir, how will we make the trenches?" he asked.
"Digging them, smartass." Came the captain's answer.
"But the land is too wet, and what about keeping the trenches from flooding if we do manage to dig them?"
"I'm sure the Colonel cas that planned out, lieutenant. You just do what you're told."
The captain left before anything else could be said. Tom walked over to the lieutenant.
"Hey, butterbars, what's your name, where you from?" he said
"Brian Walker. Wisconsin."
"You always thinking for yourself like that?"
"Most of the time."
"In the corps that's a sin. Cap doesn't like it, if you didn't figure that out by now."
"Should I stop?"
"I didn't tell you to, but just pretend around him, understand? And what do you know about trench digging?"
"I went to college, studied engineering. I have a really bad feeling about this, rather be fighting in the Red army right now. At least the Nazis leave a dead body alone."
A truck with entrenching tools arrived. No boards or anything that could keep the trench floor dry. Gunny Ghill and Lieutenant Walker were given the tools, told their men what to do, and began digging. They dug for several hours before the captain came back and told them it would be time to rest, if not for the fact that Homma was mobilizing fast, and would be arriving the next day."
They rested little, and dug much more trench. Colonel Howard was also apparently setting up some bigger guns to fend off the ships, and fortifying inside the island. The marines and soldiers were grumbling, discontented and tired when a lound roar started. The roar of Japanese bombers. Men dove into the half-finished trenches that would make a Ukranian infantryman choke. Most bombs didn't do any damage at all, and the ones that did provided some nice craters to add to the trench network, but the men there didn't see it that way.
All officers and staff NCOs were called to a briefing on the plan for the impending invasion.
"Men," Colonel Howard began, "I trust that you've dispelled your subordinates' fears about the air raids today." Of course no one had, nor could they. Most of them were more terrified than the rabble out digging. "The trenches are almost completed, and most of the guns are in place. Stay the course," he encouraged, "we'll fend them off easily."
Again, Lt. Walker spoke up, "Permission to be frank, sir."
"Granted, Lieutenant."
"How will the trenches be kept from floodi--"
"Don't worry." Colonel Howard left in a hurry.
Six hours later, all Allied forces were preparing to get in the trenches, and the guns were beginning to fire on the Japanese PT boats trying to land. Then more came, and more Japanese soldiers began swarming the beach. Some advancing, some setting up a beachhead as the trenches flooded instantly. The Allies were mostly routed already, ready to evacuate to the mainland or other islands. Gunny Ghill and Lt. Walker were amongst those who led the backward charge. They made it to Mindanao safely when news reached them.
The trenches were a resounding success. Ten thousand Japanese drowned in the winding, aimless accidental irrigations, and some hundred vehicles were also destroyed.

[DarkAsmodeous]

Dude, that was well thought out. It needs a bit more area description, but I love it.

[KuKulzA]

hahaha, poor Japanese... but they frickin abused the rest of Asia