“Let’s just say that me and Danilo are gonna give the Japs a taste of their own medicine.”
He knew that Philly was right about one thing, which was that Deke was a farm boy, through and through. In 1940s America, there were still many soldiers who had grown up on farms. They knew a thing or two about hard work. They didn’t complain about the rain or the heat. Having taken part in hog killing and other country rituals that you got used to when your meat didn’t come wrapped up neatly from the butcher shop, the sight of blood didn’t bother them. Farmers made better soldiers than city boys.
When Deke was growing up and heard others’ stories, he realized that he hadn’t had any similar experiences. No birthday parties. No baseball games. Growing up on the farm had been hardscrabble. He took a bitter pride in that.
All the softness had been wrung out of Deke a long time ago, like green wood that had been left to dry in the sun and wind.
He gave Philly a nod, wondering if he’d ever see him again, considering that Deke was about to head into a jungle crawling with Japs and who knew what else. Without another word, Deke ducked low and began to follow Danilo, who was already threatening to disappear, barely more than a specter in the gloom.
Despite his boast, the truth was that Deke didn’t have any plan in mind, other than to follow this path. He supposed that was the only plan Danilo had in mind. Given the language barrier, they couldn’t discuss it. Danilo led the way and Deke followed. From time to time, the Filipino paused long enough to hack through the thicker overhanging branches and vines with his bolo. Deke slung his own rifle and slashed at the vegetation with his bowie knife. It wasn’t as long and heavy as the bolo, but its blade did more than a passable job cutting away the dense branches and vines.
It was almost as if they were carving a tunnel through the greenery. Fortunately, the animal trail was well worn, providing their only guide through the jungle. It was impossible to tell what direction they were heading in. Deke looked up through the interwoven branches to catch occasional glimpses of the night sky, trying to get his bearings. However, no stars glittered, and the moon wasn’t visible. Was it cloudy? The sky was nothing more than a dark slate. Deke heard a distant rumble and flicker of light. Thunder or artillery? It was hard to know.
The Filipino’s instincts had proved right after all. The trees began to thin out. Looming ahead in the darkness was the ridge where the Japanese had ambushed them. Deke felt rather than saw damp ground under his boots.
Danilo stopped, hunched over, and touched his finger to his lips. The gesture was hardly necessary. With the ravine nearby, the Japanese must be so close that they could have reached out and touched them.
Deke realized that they must have reached the water source that Dickie would have used to fill their canteens. A trickling stream ran down into the ravine, no wider than a man’s stride. Over time, the jungle animals had pawed away the soil to create a pool, the black surface of the shallow water reflecting like onyx in the jungle night.
Again he heard a rumble and flicker of light that played across the surface of the jungle pool. This wasn’t artillery but the thunder and lightning of an approaching storm. The rumbling and flickering light came faster and closer together.
As so often happens in the tropics, the weather was changing again. The storm seemed to be headed in their direction, and it sounded like the start of something serious. The jury was still out on whether a storm would help or hinder their reconnoitering. Deke found some reassurance in the fact that Danilo seemed to be ignoring the distant storm.
After a quick stop to fill their canteens, Danilo moved on. Deke had been content to let the Filipino take the lead. Soon enough, Danilo’s plan became clear. He was looking for a route around the base of the ridge so that they could pick up the trail on the other side, potentially avoiding any surprises that the Japanese had in store for them.
Passing quietly through a landscape of kunai grass, stunted trees, and jumbled rocks, they moved around the base of the ridge toward where the trail entered the jungle on the other side. They had taken the long way around to avoid getting too close to the enemy lines.
So far the only sign of the Japanese that they had seen was the glow of a cigarette among the rocks in the ravine, no more than one hundred feet away, smoked by a careless enemy soldier — certainly against orders. An angry voice barked what sounded like a reprimand, and the cigarette went out.
If there was one, then there were probably many more enemy soldiers lying in wait nearby. Maybe it was just Deke’s imagination, but he thought that he could smell the enemy on the night breeze stirred up by the approaching storm. The Japanese had a peculiar odor, an almost fishy smell. He hoped to hell that the Nips couldn’t smell him. He supposed that he gave off an odor that was a mixture of canned beef stew and rank sweat.
Both he and Danilo were skilled outdoorsmen, able to move silently, not giving the Japanese any clue that they were there. It would have been impossible for all of Captain Merrick’s company to cross this same ground without giving anything away. Even if they had eventually found a route around the base of the ridge, how in the world could they ever use it?
The wind was picking up, rushing between the trees and swishing through the tall grasses like something alive. Deke realized that the sound and fury of the approaching storm would provide him and Danilo with excellent cover.
They moved closer to the Japanese position and began to climb the ridge. In the harsh light provided by the flickering lightning, Deke could pick out a few enemy soldiers scattered throughout the ravine. It was clear that the Japanese were in position, ready and waiting for the Americans to cross the ridge once more at daylight. Their plan seemed to be that they would hit the Americans again once Captain Merrick’s company attempted to keep moving. There was only one path through the jungle, and the Japanese were the roadblock.
Deke shook his head. Surely the Japanese knew that they were losing the battle for Leyte. Stopping Merrick’s company wasn’t going to win the fight. But the Japanese apparently planned to make them bleed for every step of the way. They were a determined enemy.
A plan began to take shape in Deke’s mind. If Captain Merrick could get his company to this point, they could swarm up the side of the ridge and take the Japanese by surprise. Also, it wouldn’t be necessary to cross the killing field that the enemy had clearly planned on the ridge. It would be even better if Deke could distract the enemy somehow by creating a diversion that would take their attention away from the company attempting to move around their flank.
Deke looked at Danilo. He had let the guide call the shots so far tonight, but the time had come for Deke to take charge. The Filipino’s dark eyes were hard to read in the occasional lightning flickers. With just a handful of Spanish words between them, he knew it would be challenging, to say the least, to relay what he was thinking.
“All right, pardner, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Deke drawled in his soft mountain accent. “You go on back and fetch Captain Merrick and the rest of the boys while I distract these Japs. By distract, I mean shoot a few of ’em.”
Danilo stared hard at Deke, as if trying to comprehend.
Deke pointed at Danilo, then back in the direction from which they’d come. He spoke a single word, “Soldados.” And then he pointed toward the ground at his feet.
Danilo’s leathery face cracked into a grin. “Sí,” he said. Without another word, he melted into the night.
Now it was all up to Deke.