Hunter Sniper

Captain Merrick collected directions to headquarters, and then the other officer and his sentries stepped aside to let the company pass. From the looks on their faces, Deke could see that he and the rest of the company must have seemed like a wreck. It sounded as if they weren’t going to get much in the way of relief.

“Everybody stay alert,” Merrick warned. “We didn’t come all this way just to get mowed down by the Japanese — or our own guys, for that matter.”

Before long, the jungle began to fall away as they reached cultivated fields. They passed through a small village, abandoned except for a few dogs that yapped at the men. The fact that their rib cages stood out like wires indicated that the dogs were starving.

One of the men tried to give one of the dogs a few scraps to eat, but Captain Merrick scowled at him. “Knock it off. There’s nothing that you can do for these dogs, except maybe shoot them and put them out of their misery. You want to feed somebody, then save it for the villagers. I’ll bet they’re just as hungry.”

However, the villagers did not show themselves, apparently having fled the fighting. Deke wished them luck. Right now there didn’t seem to be many places to go to avoid the fighting. The Filipinos’ homeland had been turned into a battleground. He supposed that it was unavoidable. Like the old saying went, you had to break a few eggs to make an omelet. In this case, the omelet was returning peace and freedom to the Philippines.

“Look, sir, over here!” a soldier called.

The soldier pointed out the bodies of two women. Their clothes were ripped asunder, and it appeared that they had been bayoneted. Nearby lay the carcasses of two dogs and a goat. It appeared that they, too, had been stabbed to death. The awful smell of decay lingered.

The captain stood over the bodies of the two women, nose buried in the crook of his elbow, studying them. One had graying hair, while the other woman appeared younger. Maybe they had been mother and daughter? Then the captain retreated several steps away and seemed to take several gulps of fresher air.

They had all seen dead civilians before, usually people caught in the middle of war, killed by accident. There were always going to be casualties when artillery shells landed in towns and villages. Some of those stray shells had been American. That was how it was when you were fighting a war, but it was a damn shame, and everybody felt bad about it. Even among these battle-hardened GIs, none of them could fathom the intentional killing of a civilian. They were caught up in a noble cause, fighting to liberate these people.

They knew that the Japanese took a different view. They had seen how civilians were used by the enemy as human shields in Palo. But seeing the two dead women felt different. The women had been bayoneted like the livestock, either out of anger or for sport. Nothing accidental about it.

The captain had shown himself to be mostly calm and steady, but just for an instant, his worn features twisted into something like anger.

“The Japanese did this,” Merrick said, raising his voice so that all his men heard. “Killed these two women like they were dogs. Never forget who we are fighting.”

One by one the men trooped past the gruesome scene, unable to avoid looking at the bodies. The sight couldn’t help but evoke thoughts of wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters back home. These dead women had certainly meant the world to someone. They had been murdered for no good reason at all.

“Damn these Japanese,” Philly muttered. “Damn them all.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Leaving the village and the grisly scene behind, they advanced through a countryside that bore the marks of war. They passed shattered trees, the smoldering ruins of modest houses and outbuildings, and scorched craters left by artillery shells.

If it hadn’t been for these scars of war, it would have been a lovely green countryside. Given time to heal, it would be lovely again. But for now the stink of charred wood and cordite seemed to linger in the air. It looked as though a giant had walked through the area, twisting and uprooting trees as he went.

The broken trees and craters were the result of the navy bombardment before the beach landing by US forces. Judging by the number of craters, it must have been an impressive show of firepower. The navy seldom failed to disappoint in that regard. They had big guns, and they welcomed a chance to use them.

What the navy had been shooting at and how much good the bombardment had done was hard to say. Most of the shells seemed to have struck empty fields and patches of forest. There certainly weren’t any Japanese bodies. The Japanese must have pulled back and hidden themselves deeper in the interior jungles, safe from the bombardment.

“I sure hope those squids have some shells left,” Philly said. “They might need them to shoot at the enemy. This looks more like target practice to me.”

“Don’t you know that’s the part that we’re here for?” Deke pointed out.