militia or a local posse had tried to attach the Japanese outposts.
American aeroplanes had wisely staid away.

But the fight was yet to come. The Federal Government had recalled
its ships from Panama and was bringing back the soldiers from
California. On the great flat prairie between Galveston and Houston,
a mighty military camp was being established. Aeroplane sheds were
erected and repair shops built. Long lines of army tents were
pitched in close proximity. Army canteens were established that the
thirsty soldiers might get pure liquor and good tobacco and a few
rods away--over the line--other grog shops were opened wherein were
sold similar goods not so guaranteed. Gambling sharks arrived and
set up shell games and bedraggled prostitutes--outcasts from urban
centers of debauchery---came and camped nearby and made night
hideous with their obscene revelry.

So the American soldier prepared for battle against the enemy who,
fifty miles away, slept undisturbed in the midst of gardens beneath
the wings of their aeroplanes.

Never since Roman phalanx moved against the hordes of disorganized
barbarians had such extremes of method in warfare been pitted
against each other. Indeed it is doubtful if the invasion of the
Japanese should be called war at all. They were not blood-thirsty.
In fact, the Japanese invaders had sent word to the American
Government asserting their peaceful intentions if they were
unmolested, though threatening dire vengeance by firing cities and
poisoning water supplies if they were attacked.

Madame Oshima shook her head. "Such talk is only pretense," she