“It’s a toss-up,” Philly agreed. “I do know one thing, which is that it’s darker than the inside of a cow out here.”
Yoshio spoke up. “Philly, how do you know what the inside of a cow looks like?”
“Stick with me, kid, and you might learn something yet.”
Deke strained to see much beyond their little huddle. He could hear the other men — coughing, muttering in low tones, the sound of a canteen cap being screwed back on — but he couldn’t see them. “There’s an old country saying about passing the night — in other words, getting through the dark hours. This is gonna be a night to be passed.”
Deke decided he was all right with that — not that he had any real choice. Beside him, Philly and then Yoshio dozed, but Deke stayed awake, listening.
Once the rain had stopped, the nighttime jungle came awake. He heard singing insects louder than an orchestra, night birds, screech owls. At some point he heard a low growl in the distance and the sort of animal scream that came only from something being torn by claws and teeth. Hunters and prey. You’ve got to be one or the other in this world.
The jungle noises unsettled the men nearby, who gave voice to their complaints, or even pointed their rifles into the forest.
Deke didn’t mind the noise. If the creatures that lived here were going about their business, it meant that there weren’t any Japs on the prowl. If the jungle fell silent, that was when they’d have to worry.
Minute by minute, hour by hour, the night passed.
As for tomorrow, it was anyone’s guess what the dawn would bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The sun came out in the morning, instantly transforming the wet air to steam. On the trail, the jungle that had seemed so mysterious and even threatening at night was lit by dappled sunlight that streamed down through the trees and fronds of vegetation. Mist rose up and caught the glow of the morning sun. Droplets of moisture trapped in the myriad of spider webs sparkled like jewels.
Deke found himself thinking that he might not mind returning to this place someday when peace returned. What a different experience it would be to explore the Philippine mountain slopes without the threat of Japanese attack. Seen by the morning light, the jungle held a million wonders.
But their reality was that they were in the heart of war. If he forgot that for an instant, it could be disastrous not just for himself, but for the entire unit he was scouting for.
Besides, there was not much time to contemplate their surroundings. Within minutes of the sun’s appearance, Captain Merrick had them up and moving.
“Frazier, where the hell are you? I want you and your BAR gun up front,” he said. “It’s been too quiet, and I don’t like it. If anything moves on the trail ahead of us, I want you to turn the trees into toothpicks.”
“You got it,” Frazier replied.
Most BAR gunners were big men, considering that they had to haul the heavy BAR weapon along with ammunition, and it turned out that Private Frazier was no exception. Well over six feet tall and broad shouldered, he handled the sixteen-pound weapon with ease. The Browning Automatic Rifle used a twenty-round magazine that added to its weight.
The BAR gunner joined Philly and Yoshio near the front of the column.
“Try not to shoot my buddy in the ass with that thing,” Philly said.
Private Frazier snorted. “Your buddy, the sniper? He looks mean.”
“You have no idea.”
“Listen, if I start shooting, chances are your buddy will have walked into a Japanese ambush. He and that Filipino will already be dead.”
Philly just shook his head because he couldn’t argue with that.
Deke and Danilo once again led the way, with a gap between them and the rest of the column.
“Buenos días,” Danilo said, nodding at Deke after the Filipino had bundled away his hammock and mosquito netting.
That son of a bitch actually looks well rested, Deke thought.
They headed out once more, Deke registering the tiredness of his body that only amplified the weight of the heavy, damp uniform and boots.
Today’s weather was already shaping up to be much different. By midday they had climbed higher, and the jungle thinned out, replaced by tall stands of kunai grass — jungle grass in the soldiers’ parlance. Some of the clumps stood more than six feet high—perfect ambush cover, Deke thought ruefully. He noticed that Danilo moved forward more cautiously.
The trail followed a ridge through the high country. The strange thing was that it didn’t appear to have rained at all at this higher elevation, or if it had, the sun and heat had evaporated any trace of moisture. Grass crackled underfoot. The trees had retreated, leaving no shade other than a few scrubby bushes. It was less humid at these higher elevations — just plain hot as the sun beat down.
The morning trek passed uneventfully. Just before noon, Captain Merrick called a brief halt. Nobody was very hungry, not with the heat, but they welcomed the chance to get off their feet. However, the lack of shade meant that the halt left the men baking in the sun. In the middle of the day, there was little shade offered by the scrub trees. It wasn’t much of a relief. The column moved on after twenty minutes.
Water was becoming a problem. With the rain yesterday, none of the soldiers had thought to refill their canteens. This high up, they didn’t pass any springs or streams. As the sun baked the soldiers, canteens were emptied by the thirsty GIs. Soldiers began to beg water off buddies who still had something in their canteens.
Deke shook his canteen, realizing that he was starting to run dry. He wanted to kick himself, thinking of all the rain that had fallen yesterday during their hike through the thickest portion of the jungle. Why the hell hadn’t he bothered to refill his canteen then?
There was just a swallow or two of warm water left swishing around in the bottom of his canteen. Damn it all. Maybe Philly has got some water. As for Danilo, the man must have been part camel because Deke hadn’t seen him take a drink yet.
Sweat in his eyes, Deke was distracted by thoughts of water, rather than giving the surroundings his full attention. They had reached a high open plateau without a lick of cover on it aside from the kunai grass and scattered boulders. This terrain was as different as could be from the thick forest they had passed through yesterday.
He listened to the sounds around him. The birds and insects were silent, and it was eerily quiet. Never a good sign. Far in front of the column, Deke and Danilo exchanged worried glances.
There was higher ground off to their left, a ridge that overlooked the plateau. The plateau itself dropped away into a series of steep, brush-covered ravines that would provide perfect cover for a sniper. It was just where Deke himself would have been hiding, had the tables been turned.
Then the anxious silence was shattered by the crack of an enemy sniper’s rifle. From the trail behind him, Deke heard the pained cry of a wounded soldier.
“Japs!” somebody shouted, and the soldiers scrambled for cover.
One of the soldiers was on his knees, both hands grasping his bloody belly as if trying to hold in his guts. The Japanese sniper had shot him through his stomach. Gut shot. It was just where you would shoot a man if you wanted him to die slowly and painfully. Deke believed that it went against some kind of code to shoot a man on purpose that way, enemy or not. The enemy had deliberately left the soldier with a lingering, painful wound.
Deke felt sick. He looked away and tried to block out the sounds of the dying soldier’s cries. Along with a sense of horror, Deke felt himself getting angry. Damn those Japs.
Another bullet whip-cracked past Deke’s head, and he hit the dirt. To his surprise, Danilo was already there. Damn but the Filipino was quick. Another bullet cut the air where Deke had been standing an instant before.