“You got any more where those came from?”
“Son, if I gave you any more, it’d probably kill you.”
“All right, then. I’ll just stick with that nasty tea our Filipino guide brewed up for me.”
The doc’s eyes widened in mock alarm. “I’ve heard about some of the local folk remedies. Sounds like that might kill you too.”
“I’ll take my chances. You take care, Doc.”
“You too, Deadeye.”
The battle might be over, but there was precious little in the way of peace and quiet in Ormoc. Much of the town of Ormoc lay in a smoking ruin. The townspeople who crept back in would find a terrible shambles, but at long last the occupying Japanese had been cut out like the infection from a festering wound.
The Japanese had not been completely defeated on Leyte. They had simply retreated into the hills and jungle to make their last stand. Knowing the Japanese, they would fight until the last man. The soldiers could expect a bitter conclusion.
All around the Pacific, the noose was tightening around the Japanese. But they only fought harder, churning through a seemingly endless supply of soldiers and planes and ships. Fewer each month, perhaps, but still a threat.
There remained the rest of the Philippines to conquer. The nation comprised a series of islands that would have to be removed from Japanese control, one by one. Leyte was just the first. The biggest prize, the pearl itself, was the city of Manila, located on the island of Luzon. There the Japanese had vowed to fight to the last man and had already vowed that there would be no surrender.
Rumors were already trickling in about terrible atrocities that the Japanese were committing in that city, now that they knew the end was near. It seemed that across the Philippines, the enemy occupiers were taking out their anger on the local population for being disloyal and ungrateful.
This was a far cry from what had happened on Guadalcanal and Saipan, where the population had been brainwashed into thinking that the Americans were intent on rape, murder, and torture. There were even mass suicides in those places. In the Philippines, US flags that had been hidden away on pain of death if they were found now flew from many houses and businesses.
The brutal actions being taken by the Japanese surpassed any sort of military strategic need. Instead, all across the Philippines, as defeat became an increasingly foregone conclusion, they seemed intent on leaving nothing but destruction and punishment in their wake.
Despite the fact that Ormoc was now firmly in US hands, the Japanese weren’t quite ready to wave the white flag of surrender. From time to time, there was the crack of a rifle as a hidden Japanese soldier opened fire. It was hard to say whether the lone soldier had managed to remain hidden as US troops swept the city, or if he had slunk back in as an infiltrator. The sniper attacks were more of a thorn in the side of US troops than a serious threat, but they also took a psychological toll. Having survived the battle, the last thing a soldier wanted to do was fall victim to a sniper.
Just past noon on the day after General Bruce had sent his message announcing the capture of Ormoc, a Japanese sniper had gone to work near the harbor. Every few minutes he fired from the upper floors of a ruined building. Several soldiers had been hit.
The scout-snipers of Patrol Easy — and Deke in particular — had been called into action. It was what they did best, and as far as Deke was concerned, it beat the hell out of having to unload supplies.
“Deke, go get that son of a bitch,” Honcho ordered. “Philly, see if you can help him.”
“No rest for the weary,” Philly complained, picking up his rifle with all the enthusiasm of a man reaching for a shovel, and following Deke.
“Quit your griping,” Honcho said. “Keep it up and you’ll find yourself driving a truck instead.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once they were out of earshot of the lieutenant, however, Philly did continue to gripe. “I’ve got to say, Honcho has been in an ugly mood since we landed on the beach. He’s never in what you might describe as a good mood, but this really takes the cake.”
“I reckon he’s got a lot on his mind,” Deke said. “Being an officer ain’t no picnic.”
“He was an officer before we got to Ormoc. He sure as hell didn’t act this way back on Guam.”
“Yeah, but back then he only had your sorry ass to boss around. Now he’s got a lot more men to worry about. He’s second in command of the company.”
“What’s left of it, anyway,” Philly said. “We really got chewed up and spit out capturing this place.”
Another shot rang out, causing a truck to veer sharply, a bullet hole leaving a spiderweb pattern of cracks on the windshield. Given the scarcity of trucks, they could scarcely afford to lose any.
“Come on,” Deke said. “The war will be over by the time you get a move on.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Deke felt good — better than he had in days, at any rate. He’d had another dose of Danilo’s tea that morning. He was sure that the stuff could take the rust off nails and maybe even remove paint, but it seemed to keep the fever at bay. It reminded him of some of the folk remedies back home, like sumac tea to cure fever.
There were some who rolled their eyes at folksy medicine, but Deke had seen it work wonders. It sure seemed to be working for him better than any pills that modern medicine provided.
“How are you feeling, anyhow?” Philly asked. “You look all right.”
“I’ve been worse,” Deke said.
Philly nodded. “Nobody out here feels like a million bucks, that’s for damn sure.”
They set out toward the piles of rubble that lined the road on the waterside. Bricks, rubble, and concrete blocks were rowed up as if they had been put there by a giant plow. Boards poked out of the piles. They approached from the shaded side to remain out of the sniper’s line of sight.
To Deke’s mind, the rubble created a perfect sniper’s nest, giving him a full view up and down the street. He crawled down into a hole and tugged a rusty section of corrugated tin over them. They had started out in the shade, but the shade did not last for long. They were now in the full sun, which beat down on the tin, heating it up like a stove lid.
Though they were sheltered from the direct sun, they started to sweat profusely in the tropical heat and humidity. What little sea breeze there was off the gulf didn’t reach down between the piles of rubble.
Deke had no need of his hat because they were covered by the sheet of corrugated metal, so he took the hat off and tied a strip of cloth across his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes.
“You look like an Indian with that headband,” Philly said.
“Well, I reckon I’m part Cherokee somewhere back down the line, so there’s that.”
Philly took off his own helmet, mopped his head with a rag, and put the helmet back on. “Couldn’t we have picked a cooler spot? It’s like an oven in here.”
“Sure, and we should have brought some ice cream too. Hush now and pay attention.”
“All right, don’t get your shorts in a twist.”
“The main thing is that he can’t see us, but we have a good view of where he’s hiding.”
Philly glassed the buildings opposite them with the binoculars. Deke considered Philly to be a better-than-average shot, at best, maybe a distant third to Alphabet — now out of commission. However, Philly was a damn fine spotter. They made a good team.
Being a good shot wasn’t everything. You also had to be sly and stealthy, a natural-born hunter. Danilo came to mind in that regard. Deke sure as hell wouldn’t want to go up against him out in the jungle.
Hidden somewhere in the ruined buildings across the street, the sniper proved to be a slippery character. He would take just one shot, then move to a different location.