by Chris Glatte
The former prisoners were hooting and celebrating their victory. Sam watched as they dismantled the machine gun from the mount and hefted it away. The rest of the fighters from up the street joined their group. Sam trotted up to the group but didn’t join in the celebration. Surely there was much more fighting ahead. The entire city was full of Japanese. He wanted to kill more, but first he had to figure out how to reload. He saw Juan standing nearby. He went to him.
Juan saw him and grinned, “Good shooting back there.”
Sam couldn’t help smiling back. He held out his carbine and whispered, “I don’t know how to reload.”
Juan’s grin turned to a full smile. He took the weapon and gave him a quick lesson. When he was sure Sam knew how to eject and reload, he marveled, “It takes a brave man to enter a fight without knowing if he has any ammo in his rifle.”
After taking out the machine gun nest, the group of fighters held their ground. The Japanese soldiers had been plundered of anything useful. The machine gun was set up and pointed down the street in the other direction. Sam was antsy to keep attacking. He wanted to kill more Japanese. He saw Felipe talking with a small group of Filipinos. Felipe nodded and the men ran back up the street, the way they’d come.
Felipe addressed the remaining fighters. “The Japanese are in full retreat. Major Cruz wants us to form up with her and the rest of the resistance at the city center.” The fighters manning the machine gun stood and started dismantling it. Sam and the others moved along the dark streets. As they passed, windows and doors were flung open as the residents of Cebu City realized their day of liberation was upon them.
Sam found himself near the front of the pack. He was trotting, watching the doorways and windows for Japanese. He came to an intersection and slowed. He went to the corner and peaked around. He saw scurrying movement on the right side. He squinted, but in the dim light couldn’t tell if he was seeing friend or foe. The answer came with a muzzle flash and a zinging bullet.
He pulled back. There was another shot and the wooden wall beside his head shredded with a bullet impact. He crouched and pressed his back against the wall. He took a deep breath and was about to lunge around the corner when he heard a commotion. The closest fighter put his hand on his shoulder and held up a hand for him to wait. Sam nodded. There was yelling coming from down the alley. At first Sam thought it was Japanese, what he expected to hear, but then realized it was in his own language.
The fighter beside him smiled and slapped his shoulder. “It’s been taken care of.” Sam went around the corner with his M1 leading and saw a group of Filipinos huddled around a dark form. Sam trotted the twenty yards and was met with excited back slaps. At the feet of the group, a Japanese soldier was crumpled. An expanding pool of blood spread from his back. He was bleeding from multiple wounds. The Filipinos held up their bloody knives. Sam could see their teeth gleaming in the low light.
Felipe was beside him. He grinned and slapped Sam’s back. “Our people are taking their revenge tonight.”
76
Platoon Sergeant Carver sat on a bunk below decks of a troop transport ship playing cards with Sergeant O’Connor and other men of Able Company. Most of the 164th Regiment occupied the cramped ship. He’d been back a week. His leg felt good, although he still had a slight limp.
Sergeant O’Connor threw down his five cards. “Four of a kind.” Moans all around as GIs flopped down their hands in disgust. Carver held his close to his chest. O’Connor said, “Well? What you got?”
Carver grinned and laid his cards down. “Straight flush.”
O’Connor’s jaw dropped. “Best hand I’ve had all night and you pull that shit? It’s like you’ve got a damned horseshoe shoved up your ass.” As Carver shrugged and scooped up the dollar bills, O’Connor asked. “Your gal teach you to play or something?”
Carver leveled his eyes at O’Connor. “What gal? What’re you talking about?”
O’Connor stood and grinned. “It’s pretty damned obvious, Platoon Sergeant. You haven’t said anything, but since you’ve returned, you’re always getting that far-away look, like your lusting after your school teacher or something.”
Carver looked at the other sergeants and corporals who looked down at their boots like they were the most interesting things in the world.
He put his arm around O’Connor and pulled him away from the others. When they were alone he separated and said, “Don’t bring that shit up in front of the men again, Sergeant. We’re invading that Jap island any day now. They don’t need shit like that distracting them.”
O’Connor’s eyes narrowed. Carver felt a chill as he looked into the eyes of a killer. O’Connor said. “That’s exactly why I brought it up. We’ve been through a lot together. You outrank me, always have, but I’m addressing you as a friend.” He paused and Carver gave him a slight nod. O’Connor continued. “Your head’s in the clouds. The men need you here, leading them. Not thinking about some dame you’ve been…” he paused when he saw Carver’s eyes turn icy. “You’ve met.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you getting whacked cause you can’t focus.”
Carver took a step back. He looked at O’Connor and tilted his head. “That obvious, huh?”
O’Connor nodded, “May as well be wearing a sign:” he framed his hands as if designing a marquee, “Pussy-whipped.”
The corners of Carver’s mouth turned down, but he saw O’Connor grinning. Carver rubbed his chin then looked his friend in the eyes again. “Her name’s Lilly. She’s an officer nurse and I love her more’n words can say.”
O’Connor shook his head once. “Officer? That’s dangerous ground.” Carver nodded and O’Connor laughed. “Always wanted to fuck an officer, but not quite in that way.” He put up his hands when he saw Carver ball his fists. “Whoa, just kidding.”
Carver said, “She’s special. I’m gonna try to lock her away though. You’re right, I’ve gotta come back to ground level.” He reached out his hand and said, “Tell you what. I’ll keep that side of my life hidden and locked down as long as you never utter her name in the same breath with the word ‘fuck’ again.”
O’Connor grinned and gripped Carver’s hand. “Deal.”
March 26th 1945
The navy woke the men early with cruisers and destroyers shelling the coast of Cebu Island. Elements of the 164th Regiment alongside the 182nd, offloaded to LCPVs and motored towards Talisay Point. The air smelled of burnt gunpowder and thousands of unwashed men.
Platoon Sergeant Carver and Sergeant O’Connor were on separate LCPVs for the short ride to Talisay Beach. They were the leading elements of the regiment. Carver was near the front, staring at the back of the man in front of him. He looked up at the bright sky. He glanced at his watch, eight A.M. He shook his head.
The man next to him barked, “What’s the matter Platoon Sergeant? Got you up too early?”
Carver looked at Lieutenant Swan and shook his head. “No sir. Just don’t like assaulting a beach after the Japs have had breakfast.”
Swan laughed and slapped Carver’s back. “Don’t worry sarge. The Filipino resistance assured us we’re not facing an organized group of Japs. They said most of the veteran combat troops were moved weeks ago to defend Manila.”
Carver nodded. “Yes sir. I got that word, but any Jap with a rifle can kill you just as dead, even if he’s some malnourished private.”
Lieutenant Swan turned serious and nodded. “We’ll hit the beach running. I’m sure they’ll have some surprises for us, they always do.”
Carver nodded and thought about the changes he’d seen in Lt. Swan. When they’d invaded Bougainville Island months before, he’d been a brand new, green as grass, second lieutenant. He’d joined the regiment after Guadalcanal and trained with them for eight months on the island paradise of Fiji. He was solid in tactics, he just didn’t have much of a backbone.
On the hell of Bougainville, he’d done his job, putting up a formidable defense of the hills around the landing zones and
airfields. Carver didn’t think he had the hard constitution to survive combat, but the lieutenant had proved him wrong at every turn.
Swan was tall and gawky, but he’d lost the awkward shyness. He’d survived where many others had fallen. That was enough to earn him a promotion and respect. He was leading 2nd platoon of Able Company with his two sergeants, Carver and O’Connor.
A sailor yelled, “Two minutes!” His shipmate pulled himself into the steel ring of the .50 caliber mounted machine gun and racked a round. Only his helmet and the slit of his eyes were visible above the metal. He moved the muzzle side to side.
Carver stood on his toes and extended his chin. He could just see over the edge. The beach was close. Except for the smoking craters and shredded palm tree leaves, it looked idyllic. He searched the tree-line for signs of the enemy but didn’t see any bunkers or muzzle flashes. Maybe the landing would be unopposed.
“One minute!”
The heavy thumping of a .50 caliber machine gun opened up from the LCPV beside them. Carver flinched when the gunner beside him joined. The sailor was sending out short bursts. Carver could see the tracers lancing into the jungle, but there was no return fire. They were seconds from the beach. Lieutenant Swan yelled to the men. “Remember our objective is to push into the tree-line and set up a perimeter while the armor lands.” The helmeted heads nodded.
Carver felt the LCPV lurch as it hit shallow water. The ramp dropped and slammed into the clear water. “Go!” He yelled. The men charged off the boat and sprinted up the beach. Carver had his Thompson ready as he ran in the white sand. He scanned for targets, thinking any second he’d hear the chattering of a Nambu machine gun. He made it to the tree-line without firing a shot.
He leaped for the cover of a downed palm tree. Men were stacking up along the length of the beach. A nearby explosion made him cover his head. Bits of debris and sand rained down on him. He looked down the beach and saw the fresh, smoking crater. Beside it two GIs were down. Carver heard someone yell, “Mines.”
He watched a medic dart from cover and slide in beside the casualties. He quickly assessed the first then moved to the second. He shook his head and ran back to cover. He heard Lt. Swan. “Move up, push forward.”
Carver peeked over the palm and got to his knees. The GIs around him got to their feet and took the first tentative steps into the jungle. Gunfire erupted off to the right and he dove behind another palm tree. There was return fire. He waved the men forward. The brief firefight ended and the entire company moved forward.
There was a road leading into the jungle off to Carver’s left. It was well used and led directly to the Pailua airfield two miles ahead, then into Cebu City, three miles after that. It was the obvious route for the armor to take, which is why Carver avoided it. Command assumed it was heavily mined. The minesweepers would be coming in with the armor. He called to the nearest GIs, “Stay off the road.” They nodded and moved forward.
Gunfire erupted to the front and the familiar snapping of bullets passing close made Carver and the GIs dive for cover. Carver looked to his right and saw Lt. Swan cowering behind a thick palm. Carver peaked his head around his own palm and saw the winking of a muzzle flash. He pointed his Thompson and squeezed off a short three round burst, then pulled back. The GIs followed suit, popping from cover and firing. The Japanese fire dissipated. He yelled to Lt. Swan. “Light resistance, sir.”
Swan nodded and had a look for himself. He aimed and fired his M1 Carbine in quick succession, sending his bullets into likely hiding spots. He pulled back and yelled. “First Squad move up. Second squad, covering fire.”
Carver yelled, “You heard the man. First squad on me.” He stood and waited for the increased fire from second squad, then moved quickly around the palm and into the open. He jogged forward to the next bit of cover and went to one knee. He had his Thompson at his shoulder, looking for targets. When the GI behind him, passed on his right, he kept scanning. There was movement. He put the muzzle on the spot and fired off another short burst. The bushes shook and splintered and the shape disappeared. He followed the GI.
There was a sudden increase in fire and Carver saw the lead elements of first squad pouring rounds into a stack of cut logs. They moved around the structure and the firing stopped. Carver trotted to it, his Thompson at the ready, but the tangle of bleeding bodies told him the work had already been done. He yelled to the rest of the platoon. “Clear. Move up.”
The rest of the GIs caught up and moved beyond, watching for more enemy. Lieutenant Swan trotted up and crouched beside Carver. “The heavy weapons company is coming off the boats now. They’ve got the four-inch mortars. We’ll wait until they’re set up then move forward.”
Carver nodded. “So far it’s light resistance. Hope they hurry, don’t wanna lose the advantage. It’s like they didn’t expect us or something.”
Lieutenant Swan nodded. “Looks like the feint at Leyte worked. That’s where they were expecting us.”
Carver grabbed the shoulder of a nearby private. He pointed to the right. “Run over there and tell Sergeant O’Connor to hold up for a while.” The private took off, zigzagging through the sparse jungle. There was a single rifle shot and the private dove to the ground. Carver yelled, “Sniper. Fire up the tree tops.”
There was an immediate hail of bullets shredding the nearby palms. Carver saw the medic, Private First-Class Haley dart from cover and slide next to the messenger. Carver watched as he worked and was relieved when they both got to their feet and sprinted towards the second squad’s position.
The firing died down and he heard someone yell, “I got the bastard.” Carver leaned from cover and saw the dangling form of a Japanese soldier. He hung upside down from the rope he had tethered around his ankle. He swayed and slammed into the tree trunk, leaving a smear of blood.
After a few tense minutes, the radioman, Private Hanks reached forward and handed Lt. Swan the handset. He spoke then listened and nodded. He pulled out his folded map and relayed their position. He signed off, stuffed the map back into his tunic and addressed Carver. “Mortars are in place. Move up.”
Carver was relieved. He stood and motioned for the platoon to move. The GIs moved between points of cover for a couple hundred yards. There was sporadic firing from other units up and down the line, but nothing to their front, and nothing heavy.
Carver looked up as a flight of P-38 lightnings passed over-head. He watched as they angled down and saw the winking and flashing of their nose mounted machine guns. He looked to Swan fifteen yards behind him. Swan said, “Must be strafing the airfield. We’re close.”
The platoon moved forward steadily for another three hundred yards. Lieutenant Swan kept in contact with the rear, letting them know of their progress. Soon, the mortars moved up to keep pace with the quick advance. Swan called for a halt and the GIs found cover and crouched. Carver tapped the GI beside him. “Water break, pass it along.” The message went down the line and the soldiers took long gulps of warm canteen water.
Carver wiped his brow. Although it was still morning, the day was heating up. The jungle steamed as it warmed making it seem like a sauna. The men were well acclimated to the heat but moving through enemy infested jungle made the effort that much more difficult. Staying hydrated was a major chore. Once you felt thirsty, you were already dehydrated.
Carver screwed the lid back on his canteen. He’d drained half of it. Even though it was warm and infused with the flavor of the canteen metal, it tasted like sweet nectar.
Lieutenant Swan handed the radio back to PFC Hanks and motioned Carver to join him. Carver stayed low and trotted to his side. Swan showed him the map. “We’re here. The airfield’s here and the road’s off to our left,” he moved his finger to the winding line, “here.” Carver glanced that way but couldn’t see the road. He nodded. “They’ve offloaded some Shermans and half-tracks. They’re moving up the road with elements of the 182nd. We’re holding their right flank. We’ll wait here until they catch up, then
move on the airfield en masse.” He mashed his finger on the open area to their front. “The airfield, that’s our objective. The mortars will start hammering it when we’re approaching. We’ll call in targets as we see ‘em, but the flyboys have already destroyed the few Jap planes they saw on the ground.”
Carver nodded. “So we wait. I’ll spread the men out and have ‘em eat something.” Swan nodded and stuffed the map back in his shirt.
Thirty minutes later the sound of clanking tracks and the revving of powerful engines could be heard moving along the road. The distinctive snapping and crunching of palm trees told them the armor wasn’t only sticking to the road. The sparse jungle allowed the Shermans easy movement. If the heavy tank couldn’t go around something, it simply went over it.
Carver heard the radio crackle and Swan listened, then nodded and handed the receiver back to Hanks. He caught Carver’s eye and motioned him forward. Carver stood and the whole platoon moved forward with their weapons ready.
The sound of the tanks drowned out the jungle sounds. Carver was glad he wasn’t facing the advancing armor; the sound alone would be enough to freeze a man in fear. He thought the Japs at the airfield must be shitting themselves about now.
Another fifty yards and Carver could see the outskirts of the airfield. The jungle stopped and the dirt of the cleared airfield began. He licked his dry lips and crouched a little lower, anticipating the coming battle. He hesitated for an instant as the sight of Lilly lying naked in the hammock crossed his mind. He shook his head, trying to focus on the job at hand, but he slowed his pace, letting the line of soldiers move ahead.
There was a deafening explosion from the left, mixed with the rending of metal. The force of the explosion sent the GIs scampering for cover. Carver held his helmet tight, as debris rained down through the jungle canopy. He listened for small arms fire, but there was nothing but the memory of the explosion. He pushed to his knees and saw the glowing remains of a large vehicle burning on the road. He yelled. “Get ready. Probably a mine. Japs might follow up with an attack.” The men scooted to their knees and aimed their weapons into the jungle.
