Green Hell

by Len Levinson

  “Follow any one of them!” Lieutenant Karuma ordered.

  The trainers grabbed the collars of the dogs and dragged them in the direction of one of the trails they'd found. The dogs got the idea and leaped forward, eagerly following the smell. Lieutenant Karuma and his men trudged after them into the dark, dank jungle.

  TWELVE . . .

  It was morning on Segi Point, and the men from the recon platoon were sleeping in the jungle in the vicinity of the radio shack. The sun rose high in the sky, sending its brilliant rays down to earth, but still the men slept, shielded from the sun by bushes.

  Joanna woke up at eleven o'clock in the morning, and for a moment she didn't know where she was. She went to the latrine and then walked up to the radio shack, where she found Captain Eadie standing at the far window, holding his binoculars against his eyes, scanning the sea and sky.

  “Good morning!” said Joanna.

  Captain Eadie spun around. “Oh—good morning!”

  “Is there anyplace around here where a person can take a bath?”

  “Well,” he said, “this isn't exactly the King George Hotel in Melbourne, but we have a little stream back in the woods that we all use, and it works out just fine.”

  “Got any soap?”

  Captain Eadie gave her soap and some of his clean clothes to wear, because her clothes were filthy. She carried everything into the jungle for fifty yards and found the meandering stream sheltered from the sky by overhanging trees.

  Joanna looked around, didn't see anybody, and undressed on the bank of the stream. Actually she didn't care much even if somebody was around, because she'd been living under primitive conditions with large numbers of men for so long, going to the toilet at public latrines, that she'd lost most of the modesty she'd had when she'd been in Australia.

  She slipped into the cool water, ducked her head, and began soaping herself. She felt secure for the first time since the Japanese invaded New Georgia, for she was surrounded by armed American soldiers and natives, and Captain Eadie told her he would make arrangements for her to leave the island.

  Soaping her hair, she dropped into the water until it covered her head. Few insects bothered her, because Segi Point was on a high plateau and the ocean breezes kept most of the bugs away. The stream was peaceful and lovely. It was hard to believe that she still was on New Georgia.

  “Hi, there!”

  Joanna covered her breasts and looked up. She saw Frankie La Barbara on the bank, carrying a khaki towel.

  “How's the water?” Frankie asked.

  “Wonderful.”

  “Look the other way, because I'm gonna take off my clothes and come in.”

  Joanna turned around, thinking of the ridiculousness of the situation. Here she was, bathing nude with a man disrobing a few yards away. She was tempted to peek at him, because he had an awfully nice build, but it was best not to start anything with him. He looked like a ladies’ man, and she didn't trust his type. He splashed loudly as he entered the stream.

  “You can look now,” he said.

  She turned around and he was up to his waist in the water. She noticed his round, muscular shoulders, the hair on his chest, his flashing smile.

  “It's pretty nice in here,” he said, soaping up his arms.

  “Yes.”

  He washed his face and hair, dived into the water, and came up again close to her.

  “Don't worry,” he said. “I won't get out of line.”

  “Look the other way,” she told him, “because I'm not finished washing myself.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She tiptoed toward shallow water and soaped the lower part of her body, while he splashed around behind her. Once she turned around suddenly to see if he was watching her, but he was facing the other way, soaping the lower half of his body, too, and she caught a glimpse of his ass.

  “Hear you're gonna be leaving with us,” Frankie said.

  “Yes, and it's about time.”

  ‘Too bad you lost the map your father gave you—the one that showed where the gold was.”

  “I don't believe he found any gold.”

  “Maybe he did and you could come back for it someday if you had the map.”

  “Well, I don't have it anymore, and even if I did, I don't think it would matter. My father was a little crazy and you couldn't rely on the things he said.”

  “I'm sure you know best,” said Frankie, who'd been thinking about the gold ever since she told him about it. “Where did you say you left the map?”

  “Back in the village where the Japs got me.”

  “Maybe it's still there.”

  “Maybe it is, but I'm not going back for it. I wouldn't even be able to find the village from here, and I wouldn't take the chance anyway. The jungle is probably crawling with Japs.”

  “Probably,” Frankie said, washing underneath his armpits.

  Frankie La Barbara loved money and was always looking for opportunities to make big scores. Somehow his instincts told him that Joanna's father might really have found gold back in the mountains. If he'd been prospecting for as long as he had, maybe he did find something. Frankie thought it was worth checking out. Crazy old guys often weren't that crazy. Frankie kept thinking about a cave lined with veins of gold.

  “I'm finished,” he said. “Look the other way.”

  “All right.”

  She turned away from him and he walked out of the stream, where he wrapped himself in his towel. He knelt beside the stream, washed his uniform, rinsed it out, and whistled a song. Every now and then he'd glance at Joanna, who was swimming around in the water.

  “Hey,” said Frankie, “how'd you like to take a little walk with me this afternoon?”

  “A walk where?”

  “Just a little walk.”

  “What for?”

  “For the hell of it.”

  “What about your wife?”

  “Who told you I got a wife?”

  “A little bird.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Frankie said. Then he grinned. “Well, my wife is far away, and you're so close. Hell, we don't have to get married or anything. I just thought we'd take a little walk.”

  “Let me think about it,” Joanna said, because she knew that a walk with Frankie would become much more than a walk, and she didn't know whether she was ready for something like that.

  “I'll see you later,” Frankie said.

  He wrung out his uniform and carried it back through the jungle to the radio shack, where the recon platoon was waking up. Homer Gladley already was eating C rations, and Miss Brockway was looking at Hotshot Stevenson's wound. Frankie hung his uniform over a branch and then walked up to the radio hut, going inside, wearing only an Army towel wrapped around his waist.

  Butsko was there with Captain Eadie, Jimmy Hughes, and Lieutenant MacDoughal, all sitting around the table.

  “The submarine will be here at two o'clock in the morning,” Captain Eadie was saying. “It will surface and signal with three short flashes from its light. You will signal three short flashes back, and then they'll come for you in a rubber boat.”

  “What if there's trouble?” Butsko said.

  “The sub'll submerge at the indication of any trouble, and then a new rendezvous will be made.”

  Butsko nodded. He was smoking a cigarette and his sleeves were rolled up, showing his big round biceps. Then he noticed Frankie out of the corner of his eye.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  Actually Frankie had wanted Captain Eadie or Jimmy Hughes to show him the location of Joanna's village on the map, but instead he said, “Where's breakfast?”

  Butsko pointed to a crate of C rations in the corner. “Help yourself, and for Chrissakes, put some clothes on. There's women walking around here, you know.”

  “I know,” replied Frankie, heading for the crate of C rations.

  Lieutenant Karuma and his men were still hacking their way through the jungle, and the dogs weren't barking anymore because
they were as exhausted as the men. They'd been on the move all night, following false trails and being led into blind alleys, because the natives used every trick in the book to throw them off the track.

  But Lieutenant Karuma was persistent and still was pressing on. His uniform was plastered to his skin with perspiration, and his eyes were bloodshot from fatigue and anxiety.

  Every passing hour made him angrier. He knew the natives had tried to confuse him, and it was infuriating to know they'd succeeded. He'd been going around in circles all night, and even now he didn't know if he'd found the trail that would lead him to the place where the natives and American soldiers were hiding.

  He heard a crash behind him and turned around. It was one of his soldiers, who had passed out due to the heat and physical exhaustion. Other soldiers picked him up, and Sergeant Mitsui looked meaningfully at Lieutenant Karuma, because Sergeant Mitsui wanted Lieutenant Karuma to let them all rest for a while.

  Lieutenant Karuma held up his hand. “All right,” he said wearily, “we'll take a short rest right here. Sergeant Mitsui, post your guards!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The men collapsed onto the ground. Sergeant Mitsui called out some names, and those men dragged themselves to their feet, stumbling off into the jungle to stand guard. Lieutenent Karuma sat at the base of a tree and rested his back against the trunk. Should I turn back? he wondered. Have the natives and Americans covered their tracks so well that I'll never find them?

  He looked at his watch, and it was nearly twelve noon. Taking his canteen out of its case, he took a swig and let the liquid roll over his tongue and teeth before swallowing it down. He looked around at his men and realized they weren't fit for serious fighting. He decided to let them rest for an hour, have lunch, and then go after the Americans and natives again. If he couldn't locate their main trail by sundown, he'd turn around and return to his camp. Colonel Nishikawa could send enough troops to that side of the island to sweep through it thoroughly and flush out any natives or Americans who might be hiding.

  But first I want to give it one more try, he thought. At some point they went back to their base, and once I find that trail I'll have them.

  Jimmy Hughes sat in the jungle on the side of the cliff overlooking the ocean, sipping whiskey from his canteen. He'd pilfered the whiskey from Captain Eadie's bottle while Captain Eadie was at the latrine, and it would be sufficient to give a pleasant glow to the day. He raised the canteen to his mouth, sipped some of the whiskey down, and smiled with satisfaction. Then he lit a cigarette and leaned back, gazing out at the glimmering water and brilliant blue sky. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a reverie of the good old days before the Japs came to New Georgia, when he loafed around the plantation house, drinking fine Scotch whiskey and letting his natives do all the work.

  He became aware that somebody was walking around nearby and snapped back to alertness. Looking around, he saw one of the American soldiers walking toward him along the trail.

  “Hi, there,” said Frankie La Barbara with a big friendly smile on his face.

  “Hello,” replied Jimmy Hughes cautiously, because he thought the American soldier might want to share some of his whiskey.

  Frankie sat down next to Jimmy Hughes and took a map out of his pocket. “We were wondering if you could show us where the native village is that Miss Brockway and Miss Corby were taken from.”

  Jimmy Hughes took the map and looked at it, burping up some whiskey fumes and hoping Frankie couldn't smell them.

  “Right here,” he said, pointing at the map.

  Frankie made an X on the spot with his pencil and took the map back. “Hey, thanks a lot.”

  “Don't mention it.”

  Frankie folded the map into his shirt pocket and pulled his canteen out of its case. “Want a drink?”

  “A drink of what?”

  “Booze.”

  “Booze”

  “That's right, buddy.”

  “Where'd you get it?”

  Frankie winked. “Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies.”

  He must have stolen it just like I did, Jimmy Hughes thought as he raised Frankie's canteen to his lips. Captain Eadie'll go on a rampage once he finds out that so much whiskey is missing.

  “How long you been on this island?” Frankie asked.

  “Ten years,” replied Jimmy Hughes, licking his mustache and handing the canteen back.

  “You must know it like the palm of your hand.”

  “do”

  “I guess you knew everybody who was on the island in the old days, huh?”

  “There weren't that many to know.”

  Frankie took out a cigarette and lit it up. “Did you know Frank Corby?”

  “The girl's father?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jimmy nodded. “I knew him.”

  “Was he as crazy as everybody says?”

  “I didn't think he was so crazy,” Jimmy said. “He was kind of eccentric, but he wasn't crazy.” Jimmy narrowed his eyes and looked at Frankie. “What you wanna know about Frank Corby for?”

  “Well,” explained Frankie, “Joanna and I were talking, and she's got a really low opinion of him. I think somebody ought to tell her that her father wasn't so bad. I think it'd make her feel better. I mean, she thinks he was a lowlife and liar and that he was out of his head.”

  “He wasn't that bad at all,” Jimmy Hughes said. “His problem was that he had gold fever all his life, but outside of that he was as normal as you or me.”

  “But he did lie a lot, didn't he?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Not that I know of. I spent a fair amount of time with old Frank Corby, and a lot of whiskey went down the hatch, but I've never known him to be a liar. In fact, I'd say he was very decent in his dealings with everybody, although, like I said, he had gold on his mind all the time. Maybe I ought to speak with that girl and tell her that her old man wasn't such a bad egg.”

  “I wouldn't do it right away,” Frankie said. “She's still a little upset about everything. Maybe in a few days.”

  “She's not going to be here in a few days.”

  “Gee, that's right too. Well, she's going to Guadalcanal with us, and I can tell her what you told me, unless you really want to talk with her, but she might get hysterical.”

  Jimmy Hughes shuddered. “If there's anything I can't stand, it's an hysterical woman.”

  “I'll take care of it, then,” Frankie said.

  Lieutenant Karuma and his men were still thrashing through the jungle, going in circles, trying to pick up the main trails left behind by the natives and Americans. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Lieutenant Karuma was getting discouraged. He was beginning to think he'd never track the American soldiers and natives down. The only thing to do was get a battalion of men from Munda Point and search the jungles until all the natives and American soldiers were caught.

  There was a commotion up ahead on the trail, and Sergeant Mitsui ran back toward him. “Sir!” he said. “We think the dogs have picked up the scent!”

  Lieutenant Karuma felt a surge of energy. “Where is it?”

  “This way!”

  Lieutenant Karuma followed Sergeant Mitsui to where the dogs and handlers were. The dogs were straining at their leashes, barking and yapping, wagging their tails frantically.

  ‘Two trails appear to come together here,” Sergeant Mitsui said, “and they're heading in that direction.” He pointed toward the east. “I've noticed that farther back, two other trails have converged with the one we're on. I think we've broken through all their false trails and now we're moving in the same direction as their main retreat.”

  “Hmmm.” Lieutenant Karuma took out his map and compass, took an azimuth of the direction Sergeant Mitsui indicated, and plotted it on the map.

  “Forward!” shouted Lieutenant Karuma. “They're not far away!”

  His men adjusted their packs on their backs and bent in the direction in which Lieutenant Karuma was he
aded. Up ahead the dogs ran east with their noses to the ground. Their handlers had made them stop barking, because the natives and Americans might not be very far away.

  Butsko sat on a chair in front of the window in Captain Eadie's hut, looking through binoculars at the sea stretched out before him. It was a hot, muggy afternoon and the sun hung like a silver ball in the sky, flashing on the waves below, which advanced to the beach like skirmish lines of soldiers.

  Butsko felt terrific. In less than twelve hours he'd be on his way back to Guadalcanal. It would be great to see the old gang at the NCO club. The recon platoon had completed their mission successfully, so there wouldn't be any static from the brass. They might even get furloughs to Hawaii.

  Butsko heard somebody running and turned around. A native charged through the door, saw Captain Eadie sleeping on his cot, dashed toward him, and shook his shoulder. Captain Eadie opened his eyes, snorted, and sat up. The native jabbered frantically and pointed back toward the jungle. Captain Eadie wrinkled his brow and stood up. He said something to the native, who ran out the door.

  “Anything wrong?” Butsko asked.

  “About a hundred Japs are headed this way,” Captain Eadie said, “and they've got two dogs with them following the trail you and the others left behind.”

  “How far away are they?”

  “About two hours away.”

  “Well,” said Butsko, all his dreams crumbling, “I guess the only thing to do is to attack them before they get too close.”

  “I told Jibu to round up all the natives in the vicinity. You'd better get your men together too.”

  “I'll do that right now,” Butsko said.

  Butsko put on his helmet and ran out to gather up his men.

  Meanwhile Frankie La Barbara was looking for Joanna. He hadn't been able to find her around the communications hut and now was heading toward the lean-to that the natives had constructed for her and Miss Brockway in the jungle not too far away.