by Chris Glatte
Lilly could feel Carver’s entire body tensing. With her back still to him, she held him steady, pushing back with her arms. “I’m sure we’re all well aware of the regulations, Captain.” She gave him a slight smile. “I’m sure I’d be happy to discuss your unwanted advances to General Shumacher.”
It was Shane’s turn to turn beet red. “Why you little whore,” he spit.
There was no stopping Carver, he lunged past Lilly and tackled Shane to the ground. He ended up straddling the bigger man. He punched him and Captain Shane’s nose spurted blood as it smashed flat against his face. He saw stars and his vision dimmed. Carver was about to land another punch when he was tackled from the side by two GIs.
Some of the men in the ward hobbled from their cots and blocked the entrance, while the rest clustered around the bleeding Captain Shane. There was a ruckus from the front where guards were trying to force their way past the GIs.
Lieutenant James knew she had to act fast to save Carver from spending the remainder of the war in Leavenworth Prison. Captain Shane was spluttering and holding his nose. “You’ll pay. You’ll pay, you son-of-a-bitch.”
Lilly straddled Shane and grabbed his bloody chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. She leaned close. “You listen to me Captain. Not one of these men will corroborate your story.” She let her words sink in. “Including me. It’ll be your word against every GI in here. You fell and hit your nose. Understand?” She didn’t wait for him to nod. She hesitated for a moment then continued. “You’ll pass Platoon Sergeant Carver for combat duty tomorrow and you’ll never see him again.”
Captain Shane shook his head, but she leaned in closer. “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll tell the General you tried to rape me.”
He shook his head. “That’s a lie.” His voice had a distinctive nasal tone.
“You’re always grabbing nurse’s asses around here. You’re a known pervert. It won’t be a stretch. Even if I can’t prove it, it’ll be enough to end your career.”
He went silent. She got off his chest and started making a fuss over him as if he’d fallen. The GIs parted and they let the guards through. They went to the captain’s aid.
Carver was shuffled away and given a towel to wrap his bleeding knuckles.
The next day Platoon Sergeant Carver passed his physical assessment with flying colors. Captain Shane sent a junior officer in his stead. The officer, Lieutenant Smeed wasn’t a doctor, but the test was only a formality. Even if Carver had failed miserably, he’d still be shipped out. As Lt. Smeed said, “He wants you off the books.”
Lilly wasn’t in attendance either. In fact, Carver hadn’t seen her since the incident the day before. He knew she’d saved him from a certain court-martial. He’d asked the attending nurse where she was but couldn’t get any information out of her. The nurse avoided him and wouldn’t make eye contact when he tried to question her.
Later that day he went to the hammock where they’d spent so much quality time. He found a note inside. Before opening it, he sniffed it smelling her scent. He couldn’t help smiling. He opened it and read. ‘Meet me at 2000 in my quarters.’ She signed her name and there was a messy lipstick imprint beneath it. He looked around and pressed his lips to the paper. He folded the note and put it in his pants pocket. He shook his head, if the men could see me now, they’d puke.
At exactly 2000 hours he knocked on the wooden door to her tent. The sun had been down for a half hour, but the last bit of evening glow was still hanging on. The side flaps were down keeping him from seeing inside. When there was no answer he opened the door. “Lilly?”
There was a soft glow in the center of the room and Lilly sat at a rickety table. The light from the candle danced across her tan face. She smiled when she saw him and waved him forward. He removed his hat and looked around the quarters. She was the only one inside. “Come here and sit down. I’ve found a bottle of wine.”
He went to the table and reached out his hand. She took it and he stared at her. She looked him in the eye. “What are you staring at, soldier?”
“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” Without thinking he continued. “My future wife.”
Her jaw dropped open and for an instant showed pure joy, but then her eyes dropped and she shook her head. “Don’t say that.”
He felt the room spin and stammered, “What? I had no intention of saying that, it just came out, but now that I’ve said it.” He squeezed her hand. “I feel it’s the most righteous thing I’ve ever said.” He shook his head. “I didn’t plan this, I don’t have a ring.”
He was about to continue but she interrupted him. “No.” She reached for him, clutching his shoulders. She pulled him into her, wrapped her arms around him. She felt his strong arms tensing. “Doug, I love you. You know I do with all my heart. But we can’t marry. We’re not even supposed to be together. We’d be kicked out of the service. They might even send you to Leavenworth.” He nodded and looked into her hazel eyes. “Once this war’s over, then we’ll marry.”
She ran her hands through his short-cropped hair. It felt coarse and soft at the same time. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”
They drank the bottle of wine then made love on her cot. They lay beside one another panting. With the flaps down, the tent was like a steam bath. Their sweat mingled and pooled. Lilly leaned up on one elbow and played with the dark hair on his chest. She poked him and looked serious. “You have to live. You just have to get through the next few months. This war’s coming to an end.”
He looked at the ceiling and let out a long breath. Images of combat flashed through his mind. Faces of men he’d watched die played out like a movie; crystal clear, then fading. “Now I’ve got something to live for,” he said.
75
Sam Santos didn’t have time to mourn the passing of his grandmother and the kidnapping of his sister. He’d been beaten until he fell unconscious, then woke up chained to other prisoners. They were sprawled out around him, trying to sleep. He tried to get his bearings. He was in large room. He thought it might be a gymnasium, but he didn’t recognize it. The chains led to a single metal manacle that dug into his narrow foot. The chain continued through a stout ring screwed into the floor, then connected the rest of the prisoners.
He sat up and felt his head throb. He closed his eyes, the pain like the worst headache of his life. The sound of the chains clanking sounded like deafening gongs. Someone touched his shoulder and he started and pulled away in fear, but the chains held him in place. “Sit easy, boy. Rest or you’ll be too tired to work.”
Sam opened his eyes to slits and peered at the small man beside him. He didn’t recognize him. “Where am I? What is happening?” The sound of his own voice sounded unfamiliar. He tried to clear his throat but even that hurt.
“You’re on a work crew for the Japanese. They threw you in here two hours ago. You’ve been unconscious.”
Sam closed his eyes. The scene of his grandmother’s head smashing to the ground while it pumped out streams of blood filled his mind, and he retched. Nothing came up, but the man shied away and shushed him. “You’ll attract the guards. Quiet.”
Sam looked where he was pointing and saw an armed Japanese soldier standing at the doorway. He was looking away. Sam whispered, “What work?”
The man laid down on the filthy floor and muttered, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
What seemed like only minutes later, there was a harsh barking voice and the heavy shaking of chains. Sam opened his crusted over eyelids. His cheeks were swollen, making it seem he was viewing things from the inside of a cave. The man next to him sat up and shook his shoulder. “Time for work.”
There were four shouting Japanese soldiers in the room. They kicked at nearby Filipinos and unlocked the chains from the floor. The Filipino nudged Sam and said, “Hold your foot like this, quickly.” Sam was slow to respond.
The chain started moving through the ring on
his ankle; being pulled by the farthest soldier. The sound of metal running across metal, filled the room and Sam thought his aching head would explode. The end of the chain whipped through the line. Sam realized too late why the Filipino held his foot the way he did, when the end came through the ring on his ankle. His foot was tucked near his butt and the end of the chain whipped his backside, sending a shock through his entire body. He yelped as he felt the skin break.
The prisoner beside him shook his head. “You need to listen if you wish to survive.”
The pain in his flank shook the grogginess from his mind. He touched the area and felt the stickiness of fresh blood. He nodded to the man. “My name’s Sam Santos.”
The man nodded. “Felipe. Don’t talk unless you’re sure they can’t hear you,” he whispered. “Keep your head down and do as they say.”
Sam nodded. The nearest Japanese soldier yelled something and Felipe and the rest of the men got to their feet. Sam staggered as he stood. He felt dizzy and thought he might pass out but concentrated and steadied himself. More shouting and the prisoners shuffled into a single-file line. Sam stayed behind Felipe.
Another order and they shuffled out the door. The heavy manacle on his ankle bit into his skin with every step. He looked at Felipe’s ankle and saw discolored scarring and heavy callous. He realized how much pain he’d need to endure before his own body built up the callous.
It was still dark outside, but the growing light to the east told Sam they were heading north. They were near the outskirts of Cebu City. He knew the city well and recognized the area they shuffled through. They were headed out of the city.
Soon they were on a well-worn path in the jungle. Sam figured they’d walked a quarter mile before the column stopped and more harsh Japanese orders were shouted. Sam followed close behind Felipe.
The sun was peaking over the horizon, lighting the day. Sam saw a large area of cleared out jungle. At first it looked as though it was being cleared for agriculture, but upon closer inspection he noticed low structures built into the ground. They were made of fresh concrete and had firing slits. He knew he was looking at bunkers.
The line moved steadily forward until Sam was at the front. A young Japanese soldier handed him a shovel. Sam gripped it and he had a brief urge to swing it at the soldier’s head. It passed quickly when he realized he could barely lift it in his weakened state. The soldier pushed Sam along muttering something he couldn’t understand.
Felipe looked back and motioned him to follow. Sam followed.
Every day was the same. Up before the dawn, walk to the worksite, backbreaking work, measly lunch of weevil filled rice, then back to work, then shuffled back to the barracks for another nearly inedible and inadequate meal.
Two weeks passed and it seemed to Sam that he’d never done anything else in his life. He realized quickly the Japanese didn’t care if their workforce lived or died. The amount of work required far more calories than they were given. The results were weaker workers. The weaker a worker became, the less able to keep up and more likely they were to be beaten. The more they were beaten the quicker they died.
Sam understood the only way to survive was to maintain the workload. The only way to do so was to do as little as possible without drawing unwanted attention and finding more calories. He was resourceful. His grandmother had always told him there was plenty of food in the jungle if you knew what you were looking for. She’d taught him to forage for roots and bugs from an early age. He’d never eaten the bugs she pointed out, but he remembered which ones were safe and more importantly, which ones were poison.
When they stopped working for the midday meal, he always sat near a rotten log, or moist section of dirt. He’d peel bark, or dig and eat the beetles, bugs and worms he uncovered. At first Felipe watched him in disgust, but when he realized Sam wasn’t dying as quickly as the rest of them, he joined in.
Sam’s ankle was calloused and scarred just like Felipe’s now. His body was in constant pain from the never-ending work and malnutrition, but he was young and becoming more adjusted to the day to day rigors. It allowed him to focus on his hatred.
He thought about the day the Japanese came and destroyed his family. He wondered if his sweet Yelina was alive, and if so, would she rather be dead. He also remembered Berto’s role. His own brother had betrayed him to the Japanese. He doubted Berto thought his family would be treated in such a way, but he’d been the one that caused it. Sam dreamed of the day he took his revenge. It kept him moving forward. Kept him alive.
He started thinking of ways he could fight the Japanese. The bunker system he slaved over was expansive. There were interlocking tunnels. There were underground rooms filled with ammunition and food. The Japanese obviously thought they couldn’t hold the city once the allies attacked and were preparing a fallback position.
One night after a particularly hard day of digging, Sam leaned over to Felipe and whispered. “You awake?” Felipe grunted and opened his eyes to slits. Sam was inches away. He carefully unfolded a piece of scrap paper he’d stolen off the top of an ammo crate. He’d scrawled a crude drawing of the bunker system using a whittled piece of charcoal from the cooking fire.
He showed it to Felipe. In the dim light of the moon shining through the holes in the thatch roof, it was barely visible. “I’ve been making this for a couple of days,” he whispered. Felipe didn’t react but stared at the drawing. “Keep your eyes open and add any information you think is missing.”
Felipe shook his head and whispered back. “They will find that and you’ll be tortured and killed. Get rid of it.”
Sam shook his head. “I’ll give it to the allies when they come. It’ll help them destroy the Japs.”
“You’re dreaming. You think they’ll let us live? When the allies come they’ll dispose of us.”
Sam hadn’t thought of that. “What? Why?”
Felipe pointed at the map. “That’s why, idiot. We know about the bunker. We built the cursed thing.”
Sam folded it up and shoved it back into the fold of his shirt. He laid back and wracked his brain for a way to escape and get the plans to the allies. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He whispered to Felipe. “I’ve gotta get outta here.”
“You’re crazy and you’ll get yourself and probably others killed.”
Sam shrugged, “If they’re going to kill us anyway, why not die trying to escape? I’d rather die fighting than kneeling.”
“Go to sleep and put it out of your mind.”
Sam shook his head. “I’ll find a way out of here. I’ll use my shovel, kill that scrawny guard, take his rifle and run. They won’t follow an armed man without caution. I know the jungle, I can lose them easily.”
Felipe leaned close and Sam could feel the anger in his voice. “You’ll ruin everything, you idiot.”
Sam pulled away. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.”
The next day, Sam followed Felipe out of the barracks and into the bunker complex just like every other day. Sam watched his friend, waiting for some hint at what he’d talked about the night before. Felipe didn’t let on until the midday meal. As they put down their shovels, picks and hoes, Felipe gestured for Sam to follow.
Felipe got into line for a ration of rice, Sam right behind him. Felipe whispered, “The water girl. Stay close to me.”
Sam looked down the line of haggard workers and saw the small frame of a woman scooping out water from a large wooden barrel. He’d never paid any attention to her before, but now he scrutinized her and realized she was younger than he assumed. She kept her face down and moved slowly, but efficiently, careful not to spill. There was a bored looking Japanese soldier nearby watching the workers.
When it was Felipe’s turn, he held out his cup and said, “Greetings. A fine day today.”
The woman hesitated for a fraction of an instant and filled his cup. “All the days are pleasant.”
Felipe nodded
his thanks. “The boy behind me is thirsty.”
He moved away and Sam took his place. He held his cup out and stared at the top of the woman’s head. She looked up and their eyes met. He recognized her immediately and was about to speak but she did first. “We will quench your thirst.” She poured a ladle full into his cup, but dropped the ladle. She crouched to pick it up at the same time he did. They lingered for an instant and her eyes bore into his. “Be ready, the hour is close. Do exactly as Felipe says and you’ll have your revenge.”
They stood together and she thanked him for helping her with the ladle. The Japanese soldier barely noticed. Sam nodded and sat down next to Felipe. As he scooped the rice into his mouth and drank the water, he leaned toward Felipe. “That’s my old school teacher. Mrs. Cruz.”
Felipe nodded but didn’t look at him. “Yes, before the war she was a teacher. Now she’s the leader of the resistance. We call her Major Cruz, now. She’s second only to Colonel Cushing.”
Sam nearly choked. “Major? She’s a woman and so small.”
Felipe grinned. “Once you see her fight, you will not think her so small. Ferocious is the only word.”
“How can she lead when she’s here?”
“She’s not on the work detail. She comes from the city. Informs us of developments, and we pass off anything we’ve learned.”
“We?” Sam looked around at the pathetic assortment of humanity. “There’s more like you?”
Felipe nodded. “Many. Most of the young men and some of the old. You’re late to the game. Don’t talk to anyone, some will give us up. The allies are off the coast. Any day they will attack. That is when we will strike.”
“How will I know?”
“Stay close to me. You’ll know.”
Three days passed before Major Cruz spoke to Felipe again. Sam didn’t catch her words but he noticed Felipe tense. Sam held out his cup and she filled it without a word. He lingered, hoping for something. She tilted her head up and gave him a quick smile. He saw her eyes twinkle. She was excited.
