Gunfire rattled along the beach, artillery pieces flung burning death into the sky, trying to hit Japanese battleships far out to sea. Planes screamed overhead - smaller bombers, now, dive-bombers, stationed from the mammoth Japanese carrier fleet that sat off the coast of Sydney.
Japanese transports moved in to Sydney Harbour, motor-launches preparing to embark into the city. But Sydney had not been unprepared, through all those years of disastrous war. Concrete redoubts, bunkers, well-protected artillery, divisions of men prepared to defend their position to their very last breath, rather than give it up to the Japs.
But the numbers - the numbers were startling. Fifty thousand men, at best, defended Sydney. Perhaps five or six times that came to her assault. Japanese men came off onto the beaches, machineguns drumming out a merry tune of death, spitting fire into the face of the Japanese assault. They were not marines, that much was obvious. It seemed an almost idiotic attack - to end the war now, rather than wait out for the inevitable end. But the Japanese piled up, and began to push into the first line of forts, despite the almost catastrophic losses.
Troops did not retreat - but the Japanese went around them, and into their forts, numbers counting for much. It was strategy that seemed to be directed by nothing other than sheer drive to win. And for a moment it seemed it was working. Japanese forces swarmed forward, over forts, over Australians, over everything, firing and attacking with wild abandon, seemingly gaining the upper hand.
In the middle of all this chaos, this surprise that had caught Sydney almost unaware - for who had expected an attack of such magnitude? The Japanese piled more and more men on the beaches, and the defenders were forced back - their morale wearied by endless years of defeat.
In the middle of this, a fort sat. A small one, but one spewing out machinegun and rifle fire with impunity, slaughtering hapless Japanese as they attempted to bypass it. In the distance, a ship sat. A shot was fired, landing near the Australian fort.
And a loudspeaker blared out, from a smaller, nearer ship - audible over the ruckus of battle, spoken in immaculate English, despite the obvious Japanese accent.
Australian troops. Abandon your position and surrender, or we will blow you out. You have a chance for honourable surrender. Abandon your position, or we will fire on you, and blow you out of your fort.
The noise of battle quietened for a moment, and everything hinged on the will of the defenders - a will which had once seemed indomitable, in North Africa, and in India, but was much less vibrant now it was fighting in its homeland. The hush of battle continued, and then a voice, quieter, without a loudspeaker, but no less audible, rang out.
"Bloody well blow us out then, you bastard!"
With a great roar that echoed along the beach, Australian defenders, once bewildered and confused, took up their rifles with new vigour, the Japanese not understanding the words of the exchange that had just occurred, but understanding the meaning, broke all of a sudden, charging still, but without the fanaticism that had marked them a moment earlier, and, without further ado, were driven back into the sea, their casualties changing from the thousands into the tens of thousands - an ill-planned and foolhardly assault failing as it should've done from the beginning.
And the guns from the Hirohito rang out in the distance, the guns from the largest battleship ever built, dwarfing even the Yamato, landing precisely on the concrete fort, demolishing it to the ground, and, without a doubt, killing every man inside.
A tear ran down Menzies's cheek, and another, as he sniffed, trying to control his emotion. He had come outside to watch - with the logic that the Japanese might bombard his headquarters if they found out about him - and that being closer to the frontlines would be better for morale, if it were needed, and had seen more, perhaps, than he had wanted to. And more than he had expected. "Those brilliant.. bloody brilliant.."
Lost for words, he turned, and walked back inside. Patton slapped him on the back, unable to come up with a better display of affection than that. In the distance, Australian torpedo bombers buzzed towards the enemy fleet. It had been, perhaps, fifteen or twenty minutes. The dead numbered in the tens of thousands. For the Australians, perhaps, the hundreds.
Above them, the air raid dispersed. It had been a concerted effort by the Japanese. An effort to break what little remained of the Allies, to destroy the last stronghold of resistance against Fascism, against the Japanese Empire... an effort supported by an army greater than the entire Australian one, an airforce with thousands upon thousands of planes - and a navy that could've sunk what remained of the Allied naval totality. And yet they had prevailed.
Menzies turned, and looked up once more, at the shattered metal ends, the remainder of the once-proud Sydney Harbour Bridge.
"We'll get it rebuilt.", he promised. "We'll find out your names, we'll get it rebuilt - and we'll name it after you."
This time it was Greene who came out after him. "Sir, we-"
"I know, Greene. I'm coming inside. This just shows that we need to hurry."
Japanese transports moved in to Sydney Harbour, motor-launches preparing to embark into the city. But Sydney had not been unprepared, through all those years of disastrous war. Concrete redoubts, bunkers, well-protected artillery, divisions of men prepared to defend their position to their very last breath, rather than give it up to the Japs.
But the numbers - the numbers were startling. Fifty thousand men, at best, defended Sydney. Perhaps five or six times that came to her assault. Japanese men came off onto the beaches, machineguns drumming out a merry tune of death, spitting fire into the face of the Japanese assault. They were not marines, that much was obvious. It seemed an almost idiotic attack - to end the war now, rather than wait out for the inevitable end. But the Japanese piled up, and began to push into the first line of forts, despite the almost catastrophic losses.
Troops did not retreat - but the Japanese went around them, and into their forts, numbers counting for much. It was strategy that seemed to be directed by nothing other than sheer drive to win. And for a moment it seemed it was working. Japanese forces swarmed forward, over forts, over Australians, over everything, firing and attacking with wild abandon, seemingly gaining the upper hand.
In the middle of all this chaos, this surprise that had caught Sydney almost unaware - for who had expected an attack of such magnitude? The Japanese piled more and more men on the beaches, and the defenders were forced back - their morale wearied by endless years of defeat.
In the middle of this, a fort sat. A small one, but one spewing out machinegun and rifle fire with impunity, slaughtering hapless Japanese as they attempted to bypass it. In the distance, a ship sat. A shot was fired, landing near the Australian fort.
And a loudspeaker blared out, from a smaller, nearer ship - audible over the ruckus of battle, spoken in immaculate English, despite the obvious Japanese accent.
Australian troops. Abandon your position and surrender, or we will blow you out. You have a chance for honourable surrender. Abandon your position, or we will fire on you, and blow you out of your fort.
The noise of battle quietened for a moment, and everything hinged on the will of the defenders - a will which had once seemed indomitable, in North Africa, and in India, but was much less vibrant now it was fighting in its homeland. The hush of battle continued, and then a voice, quieter, without a loudspeaker, but no less audible, rang out.
"Bloody well blow us out then, you bastard!"
With a great roar that echoed along the beach, Australian defenders, once bewildered and confused, took up their rifles with new vigour, the Japanese not understanding the words of the exchange that had just occurred, but understanding the meaning, broke all of a sudden, charging still, but without the fanaticism that had marked them a moment earlier, and, without further ado, were driven back into the sea, their casualties changing from the thousands into the tens of thousands - an ill-planned and foolhardly assault failing as it should've done from the beginning.
And the guns from the Hirohito rang out in the distance, the guns from the largest battleship ever built, dwarfing even the Yamato, landing precisely on the concrete fort, demolishing it to the ground, and, without a doubt, killing every man inside.
A tear ran down Menzies's cheek, and another, as he sniffed, trying to control his emotion. He had come outside to watch - with the logic that the Japanese might bombard his headquarters if they found out about him - and that being closer to the frontlines would be better for morale, if it were needed, and had seen more, perhaps, than he had wanted to. And more than he had expected. "Those brilliant.. bloody brilliant.."
Lost for words, he turned, and walked back inside. Patton slapped him on the back, unable to come up with a better display of affection than that. In the distance, Australian torpedo bombers buzzed towards the enemy fleet. It had been, perhaps, fifteen or twenty minutes. The dead numbered in the tens of thousands. For the Australians, perhaps, the hundreds.
Above them, the air raid dispersed. It had been a concerted effort by the Japanese. An effort to break what little remained of the Allies, to destroy the last stronghold of resistance against Fascism, against the Japanese Empire... an effort supported by an army greater than the entire Australian one, an airforce with thousands upon thousands of planes - and a navy that could've sunk what remained of the Allied naval totality. And yet they had prevailed.
Menzies turned, and looked up once more, at the shattered metal ends, the remainder of the once-proud Sydney Harbour Bridge.
"We'll get it rebuilt.", he promised. "We'll find out your names, we'll get it rebuilt - and we'll name it after you."
This time it was Greene who came out after him. "Sir, we-"
"I know, Greene. I'm coming inside. This just shows that we need to hurry."
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