1941, Tuesday 07 October;
It was their second field exercise, this time at full regimental strength. Platoons and companies had become familiar with climbing into and out of the daihatsu’s for about a week now, and three days ago they did it at battalion strength. Sailing out of Canton, south towards a quiet coastline, in a sheltered bay, with sandy beaches, they had practiced a timed landing, in three waves, watched by not just all the senior regimental officers, but some Divisional ones from both their own 18th Division, but also from the 5th as well.
So today they were back again, the entire 56th Infantry Regiment, same place, using three army transports, one per battalion, daihatsu’s swinging off davits into the water, scramble nets draping their sides, with a chance to correct faults, cut times and land in a more organised way. They weren’t new to the game, and neither was the 14th Engineer Regt, who managed the landing, manned the landing craft, and synchronised the three ships. But they did need the practice.
Superior Private Inamoto at the wheel, brought the Daihatsu close to the nets, watched by his lance corporal. Boat hooks at either end reached out and caught the nets, and sheltered by the side of the ship, with a gentle swell under him, he held the boat there. The Lance Corporal waved up to an officer looking over the side of the ship, and almost immediately, a platoon of men began to climb over the side and down the scramble nets into the boat. As the troops climbed in so they were shuffled over to the far side, their sergeant barking out the order to face forward to the bows of the ship. Before the platoon was fully in a second platoon began its decent.
Loaded now, and with the signal given, Inamoto turns the wheel, and the craft bobs away, heading to a line of Daihatsu’s forming up, facing the beach. He idles back, looking left, waiting for the flag, a big red one, its waved and swept down. He guns the diesel engine, and they race in alongside fellows, all wanting to be first. The lance corporal points, a little to the right, the shoreline closing fast, and then chops his hand down, Inamoto cuts back the engine and her momentum carry’s her into the shallows, grounding in the sand, as the engineers at the front drop the bow ramp, and the two platoons race each other to disembark, splashing through the knee high water, up onto the beach, light machine gun sections dropping down to offer covering fire, a couple of knee mortars setting up and firing smoke shells, a Bangalore torpedo team racing forward to breach an imaginary line of barbed wire.
Into reverse now, and provided they didn’t ground too hard, she would pull off. Bow ramp back up, she eases out, Inamoto and the Lance Corporal judging when to turn her, careful not to broach in the incoming waves, get past the white water, and here we go, spinning round quite nicely. He has time to look along the beach line, a couple of Daihatsu’s have grounded, and no doubt their crews would get chewed out hard for that. But for him, it was back to the ship, and pick up a second wave.
Late afternoon and they were waiting for the flag, mission complete, idling off shore, in line again, their part done now. There it was, exercise complete, back to the shore, and get everybody back on ship. This was much slower, especially with the anti-tank and infantry guns, which had to be swung up and in by the ship’s cranes, suspended in cargo nets, and harder for the tired troops having to climb up the scramble nets, with the sun setting, after a day’s fun on the beach.