Deke licked his lips. The jungle tasted wilted, like spinach gone bad.
The GIs sweated through their fatigues, and sweat poured down their faces, attracting swarms of insects. Some of the bugs were no more than an annoyance, clogging eyes and ears. Others were out for blood. Deke itched all over from mosquito bites, some of which had left big red welts.
The mountains were Deke’s natural habitat rather than the jungle, but nonetheless, something didn’t feel right. Deke found himself glancing back over his shoulder toward the end of the column. Private Frazier was back there with his BAR as a kind of one-man rear guard. But the big man was plodding along in the heat and humidity, not paying attention to what was behind them.
Deke motioned for the company to halt. He put his eye to the telescopic sight and caught just a glimpse of movement in the shadows. The next moment, whatever he had seen was gone. Another man might have thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but Deke knew better.
Captain Merrick came hustling up. “What is it?” he wanted to know.
“There’s someone following us,” Deke announced.
The captain was sweating heavily in the heat, rivulets of sweat running down his unshaven face. He looked haggard, probably because he’d had even less sleep than his men, given the nightly threat of Japanese attack or infiltrators. These young captains of combat companies bore an incredible leadership burden. Along with the sergeants, they were the backbone of the army.
“Japanese?” the captain asked, frowning.
“Hard to say, other than that it was two-legged. Whoever it was slipped off into the jungle.”
“This wouldn’t be a good place for a fight, not with us spread out along this trail,” Merrick said.
“I don’t think it was a Japanese patrol. Just one man. I’m not sure what the hell he was up to.”
“All right. I’ll pass the word to keep an eye out,” Merrick said, then hustled away.
The captain paused from time to time to give a quiet word of warning to the men. They had been glad of the short break, but the column soon got moving again along the jungle trail.
Watching him go, Deke decided that he liked Captain Merrick well enough. Liked wasn’t exactly the right word. Respected was more accurate. Merrick had shown himself to be more than competent in taking the company through the jungle-ridden interior of Leyte. He had come to rely on and trust Deke, some of that invisible barrier between officer and enlisted man eroding. Merrick asked for Deke’s advice on occasion and even listened to it, which in Deke’s book made the captain a smart man.
The captain had managed to keep most of the company alive so far during this jungle trek, which was saying something. There were some exceptions. They had lost a few good men, including Dickie Shelby, who had died bringing them precious water when they had been pinned down by the Japanese. Merrick said he planned on putting Shelby in for a medal once he had time to sit down and write the commendation.
However, Deke had been taken aback by the man’s clear prejudice against Yoshio. To be honest, Deke may have felt some similar distrust when he had first set eyes on Yoshio’s Asian features. In every way, Yoshio resembled the enemy they were so desperately fighting.
He now saw Yoshio as a brother and knew that the man had his back. During their jungle trek, the captain must surely have seen that Yoshio was a good soldier, but his prejudice must have been deeply ingrained. Deke was willing to cut the captain some slack, considering that his company had lost a lot of good men.
Not for the first time that day, Deke realized that he felt even more worn out than usual. Even his bones ached. A throbbing had begun somewhere behind his eyes.
Just tired is all, he reassured himself. But he began to have the nagging thought that maybe this was the start of something worse. Was he coming down with something? Several of the men already had fevers, possibly even malaria, and he wasn’t eager to join them.
Distracted by his thoughts, it was only at the last instant that he detected motion in the trees nearby and swung his rifle in that direction, fully expecting an attack by the Japanese. It would explain why he had seen someone lurking at the rear of the column.
But it was not a Japanese soldier. The figure that materialized from the leafy shadows was none other than Danilo, their Filipino guide. Apparently he had finally decided to rejoin them after visiting family in some nearby jungle enclave. In the short time that the column was halted, he had managed to transit the forest parallel to the trail silently and unseen until emerging almost at Deke’s side.
Deke held his fire and swung the muzzle away from Danilo’s chest.
“Dammit, another second and I would have blown a hole in you.”
Danilo just laughed, his lined face crinkling. He did not seem concerned. The two men communicated mainly through gestures or a few brief words, because neither man understood the other’s language.
The Filipino guide touched his own rifle, a captured Japanese weapon, as if to indicate that he had the drop on Deke long before he’d been spotted.
“Bang!” he said, laughing again.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Deke wondered.
He realized that the figure he had seen tailing the column had been none other than Danilo. He had slipped off the trail; then, while the company was halted, he had moved quietly through the trees and emerged at the front of the column. Deke doubted that he would’ve been able to pull off that particular stunt had the tables been turned.
Danilo wore a floppy hat, a stained and ragged shirt that was two sizes too big for him, pants hacked off unevenly at the calves, and rope-soled sandals. In these parts, it was what passed for a guerrilla uniform. Danilo had rigged a piece of rope to serve as a sling for the Japanese rifle. He might not look much like a soldier, but he was one of the toughest men that Deke had met.
While Danilo respected Deke’s skills, and Deke in turn respected the Filipino’s, there remained a sort of competition between them as to who was the better woodsman. Danilo certainly had the home advantage.
“Bang! Bang!” Danilo said again, happily.
“All right, that’s enough of that.” Deke pointed at Danilo and then at the empty position in front of him. The gesture needed no explanation, but Deke added, “Why don’t you go on and lead us, if you’re so smart.”
The Filipino seemed happy to oblige, apparently still pleased with himself for having gotten the drop on Deke — well, almost.
Captain Merrick must have been wondering what was going on, but Deke gave him a wave. The captain signaled back that they should move forward.
“Well look who turned up,” Philly said. “I guess Danilo has been visiting the local senoritas.”
It was impossible for them to get any details from their guide, but his smile seemed to indicate that he had, in fact, spent his time away from the company pleasantly. The Filipino started up the trail.
Deke was glad to let Danilo take point for now. They would trade off later, which had been their method for most of this jungle trek. By and large it was the most dangerous position. Considering that Deke was right behind him, having Danilo go first wasn’t much of a buffer. Should something happen, chances were good that they would both buy it.
The two men trusted one another. So far Deke had been reluctant to let Philly lead the way. Philly had his attributes, but he was no woodsman.
If an ambush awaited the company, whoever was on point would walk into it first. The same held true for any nasty surprises, such as booby traps. This was why it was so important to have the company led by someone with skill at sensing ambushes and traps. One wrong step and — well, that might be your last step.