Still, it heartened the men to know that their general was willing to take risks in securing the beach alongside them. But that was MacArthur for you. Everyone knew how much he loved the Philippines. He’d made a promise to return, and he had kept it. Any GI had to respect that.
MacArthur had also put the word out that he wanted any American POWs to be liberated as quickly as possible. Small squads and patrols were being sent into the countryside for that purpose. Of course, the Japs tried to keep the camps secret. There were even dark rumors that they had killed all the POWs in some camps rather than see them given back their freedom.
One more reason to hate the Japanese, Deke supposed.
Some of the patrols to find the POW camps were led by Filipino guides who had only a rough idea of where the camps were hidden. There had been rumors that Patrol Easy would be sent out to help liberate these camps, but that wasn’t going to be the focus of Patrol Easy today. No, not with the enemy still in command of most of the island. Everybody knew that the Japs had to go first before the mopping up began, and that mopping up included liberating POWs.
Along the way from the beachhead to the base of the hill, Deke passed familiar territory. He could see the town of Palo in the distance, straddling the muddy Bangon River, the waters silently flowing, oblivious to all the human drama on its banks. Now and then a corpse floated past. They crossed an ancient stone bridge across the Bangon that the Japanese had not managed to blow up, although it showed damage from the naval bombardment. The bridge was still sturdy enough for tanks to get across, and a couple passed the patrol, racing ahead toward the hill.
“Go get ’em, boys!” Philly shouted after them. “The more Japs you kill, the fewer that we’ve got to worry about.”
“Shut up, Philly,” the lieutenant said wearily. Unlike Deke, Lieutenant Steele couldn’t seem to tune Philly out.
Beyond the town, jungle growth encroached between the river and the base of the hill, but the trees and other vegetation had been badly tattered by the bombardment that had so effectively carpeted the beach area and then reached inland.
They passed among shattered trunks and trees that stood barren as poles, having been stripped of their branches and foliage. If only the bombardment had managed to wipe out the Japanese. They heard shots and firing in the distance, a reminder that the barrage had done little to soften the Japanese defenses deeper in the hills or deep underground. Unfortunately, the job was going to take boots on the ground.
“I sure wish we had that priest and his Filipino buddies to help us out,” Philly said, referring to Father Francisco and the guerrilla fighters who had assisted them during their earlier mission on Leyte. “It would make the job that much easier.”
“We know where we’re going,” Deke said. “We also know what waits for us up there, and it ain’t good. You know the drill, same as I do. Just keep your eyes open and keep your head down.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Philly said. “As a matter of fact, I’ll even let you take point. Somehow I think you have a better chance of keeping us from getting killed.”
Deke didn’t disagree, although he didn’t welcome being the first one who would encounter any surprises that the Japanese had in store for them. Then again, it was the lieutenant’s call. He caught the lieutenant’s eyes, and Honcho gave him a nod.
“Deke, you take point. Everybody else look sharp,” Lieutenant Steele said in a harsh whisper. “There could be Japs anywhere — hidden pillboxes, spider holes, you name it. Anything that moves, shoot first and ask questions later.”
“You got it, Honcho,” Philly said.
Lieutenant Steele turned to one of the sergeants from the company being sent to the hill. “Make sure everybody spreads out. Don’t bunch up and make the job any easier for the Japs.”
The sergeant nodded and passed the order so that the men behind him fanned out in both directions, watching for anything that could be a sign of the Japanese.
“Where the hell are those other snipers?” Philly wondered. “You know, Woodall’s Scouts. It seems like they managed to disappear just when we could use them.”
“Don’t worry about them,” Deke said. “You just worry about yourself. I reckon they’re off on another part of the island doing the same thing we are. There’s an airfield to secure and another hill not much different from this one that needs to be eliminated.”
Philly snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all on the beach, guarding some general’s personal supply of booze.”
“I fought with those boys this morning. They weren’t so bad.”
Philly just shrugged. Deke slipped past Philly into the point position, leading the way through the shattered landscape toward the base of Hill 522. He was soon a good fifty feet ahead of the rest of Patrol Easy. Behind them came the company that had been assigned to the task. Egan was there with his war dog, the two of them covering the flank. If there were any Japs out there, Thor would sniff them out.
Each one of Deke’s senses was on high alert. He might not be around in the next minute if he got unlucky, but there was something about pressing alone into the landscape, rifle at the ready, that made him feel incredibly alive. In some ways he’d been born for this moment.
He realized that he felt no fear. He was right at home, wandering through the jungle, eyes peeled, senses alert to any sound or motion that seemed out of place.
It wasn’t much different from hunting back home, and yet there was a world of difference because it was anybody’s guess who was the hunter and who was the hunted. In some perverse way, he found that even more thrilling.
However, he knew better than to share that sentiment with anyone else and the patrol. They would have thought that he’d lost his mind if he admitted that some part of him actually liked being out here in the jungle. The only one who might understand how he felt was Lieutenant Steele. He glanced back and saw the lieutenant moving with equal stealth through the jungle.
The lieutenant had only one good eye, so his head scanned slowly back and forth across the jungle undergrowth, his twelve-gauge shotgun held at the ready. At close range here in the underbrush, the twelve-gauge with its load of buckshot would do more than its share of damage to any of the enemy dumb enough to show themselves.
On the ground ahead, something didn’t look right. Deke used the muzzle of the rifle to push aside a pile of leaves to reveal a hole that went down into the ground about four feet. The leaves had been meant to disguise it, but he couldn’t see any wires or other signs of a booby trap. The hole was so narrow that Deke, lean as he was, would have had trouble fitting into it. He studied the hole for a moment as Philly caught up.
“What do you suppose that is?” Philly asked quietly. “Are the Japs expecting us to step in there and break a leg?”
“No, I’ve seen a few others out here. That’s what the Japs call a spider hole. It’s just big enough for them to hide in and pop out to shoot you in the back.”
“That’s just great,” Philly said, looking around. “I’ll bet this whole place is covered with them. I guess it’s a good thing for us that the bombardment scared them off.”
“Ain’t likely,” Deke said. Deep down, he didn’t think that the Japs had run off. He supposed that the Japanese had elected to defend certain fortified locations, such as the hill.
The enemy would be dug in deep. Waiting.
They were now moving toward the base of the hill and whatever awaited them there. The ground rose steeply, and they were forced to climb.
He lowered his rifle and looked around cautiously. He recalled that the Japanese had not bothered to clear the undergrowth around the steepest part of the base, cleverly leaving it as part of the hill’s natural defenses. It was tough enough for a man on foot to traverse the hill. There was no way that a tank was getting up here.