Hunter Sniper

Deke motioned for the company to halt. He put his eye to the telescopic sight and caught just a glimpse of movement in the shadows. The next moment, whatever he had seen was gone. Another man might have thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but Deke knew better.

Captain Merrick came hustling up. “What is it?” he wanted to know.

“There’s someone following us,” Deke announced.

The captain was sweating heavily in the heat, rivulets of sweat running down his unshaven face. He looked haggard, probably because he’d had even less sleep than his men, given the nightly threat of Japanese attack or infiltrators. These young captains of combat companies bore an incredible leadership burden. Along with the sergeants, they were the backbone of the army.

“Japanese?” the captain asked, frowning.

“Hard to say, other than that it was two-legged. Whoever it was slipped off into the jungle.”

“This wouldn’t be a good place for a fight, not with us spread out along this trail,” Merrick said.

“I don’t think it was a Japanese patrol. Just one man. I’m not sure what the hell he was up to.”

“All right. I’ll pass the word to keep an eye out,” Merrick said, then hustled away.

The captain paused from time to time to give a quiet word of warning to the men. They had been glad of the short break, but the column soon got moving again along the jungle trail.

Watching him go, Deke decided that he liked Captain Merrick well enough. Liked wasn’t exactly the right word. Respected was more accurate. Merrick had shown himself to be more than competent in taking the company through the jungle-ridden interior of Leyte. He had come to rely on and trust Deke, some of that invisible barrier between officer and enlisted man eroding. Merrick asked for Deke’s advice on occasion and even listened to it, which in Deke’s book made the captain a smart man.

The captain had managed to keep most of the company alive so far during this jungle trek, which was saying something. There were some exceptions. They had lost a few good men, including Dickie Shelby, who had died bringing them precious water when they had been pinned down by the Japanese. Merrick said he planned on putting Shelby in for a medal once he had time to sit down and write the commendation.

However, Deke had been taken aback by the man’s clear prejudice against Yoshio. To be honest, Deke may have felt some similar distrust when he had first set eyes on Yoshio’s Asian features. In every way, Yoshio resembled the enemy they were so desperately fighting.

He now saw Yoshio as a brother and knew that the man had his back. During their jungle trek, the captain must surely have seen that Yoshio was a good soldier, but his prejudice must have been deeply ingrained. Deke was willing to cut the captain some slack, considering that his company had lost a lot of good men.

Not for the first time that day, Deke realized that he felt even more worn out than usual. Even his bones ached. A throbbing had begun somewhere behind his eyes.

Just tired is all, he reassured himself. But he began to have the nagging thought that maybe this was the start of something worse. Was he coming down with something? Several of the men already had fevers, possibly even malaria, and he wasn’t eager to join them.

Distracted by his thoughts, it was only at the last instant that he detected motion in the trees nearby and swung his rifle in that direction, fully expecting an attack by the Japanese. It would explain why he had seen someone lurking at the rear of the column.

But it was not a Japanese soldier. The figure that materialized from the leafy shadows was none other than Danilo, their Filipino guide. Apparently he had finally decided to rejoin them after visiting family in some nearby jungle enclave. In the short time that the column was halted, he had managed to transit the forest parallel to the trail silently and unseen until emerging almost at Deke’s side.

Deke held his fire and swung the muzzle away from Danilo’s chest.

“Dammit, another second and I would have blown a hole in you.”

Danilo just laughed, his lined face crinkling. He did not seem concerned. The two men communicated mainly through gestures or a few brief words, because neither man understood the other’s language.

The Filipino guide touched his own rifle, a captured Japanese weapon, as if to indicate that he had the drop on Deke long before he’d been spotted.

“Bang!” he said, laughing again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Deke wondered.

He realized that the figure he had seen tailing the column had been none other than Danilo. He had slipped off the trail; then, while the company was halted, he had moved quietly through the trees and emerged at the front of the column. Deke doubted that he would’ve been able to pull off that particular stunt had the tables been turned.