Hunter Sniper

“And what part is that, exactly?”

“The actual shooting-the-enemy part.”

Philly gave a short laugh. “You must be feeling better. That crap Danilo gave you to drink must have done the trick.”

“You know what they say — what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

Deke still felt shaky, but he was stronger than he had been. Yoshio was still carrying his haversack, but Deke had taken back his rifle. It was slung over his shoulder, and he doubted that he could have used it effectively, but he couldn’t bear to be without it. The weight of it tugging at his shoulder felt reassuring.

By now the path had become a sandy road. Few of the roads in the rural areas of the Philippines were paved. The road was packed down hard in places, but in others the loose sand gripped at tires and made walking difficult. During one of the frequent heavy rains, the road would be a quagmire.

As the road continued, the surrounding forest fell away to reveal open stretches of marsh and cropland. The soldiers felt open and exposed as they passed through the fields abandoned by the local farmers. There was also the nagging thought that the open fields would provide any Japanese defenders with broad fields of fire. But so far they had not encountered any of the enemy. Perhaps the naval bombardment had not been wasted energy, after all, if it had driven off the Japanese. Deke remained wary, just in case they were walking right into an ambush.

They began to pass soldiers going in the other direction. At first it was a shock to see other GIs after being on their own for days. The sight of their own troops meant that the beach landing on this side of the Leyte Peninsula had been successful.

These men didn’t have the appearance of fresh troops. For most of them, it was their second beach assault in the Philippines. The soldiers had taken part in the landing at Red Beach on the other side of the peninsula. They were then crammed into transports and sailed around the tip of the Leyte Peninsula — under constant threat of Japanese attack at sea — before taking part in yet another landing in the campaign to seize Ormoc. In fact, they looked almost as beat up and weary as Captain Merrick’s company did from their jungle trek.

Deke looked for any familiar faces, knowing that Lieutenant Steele, Alphabet, Rodeo, and Egan had taken part in the landing effort. However, it was hard to tell one weary face from another. The soldiers were wet and grimy from head to toe, hardly recognizable as Americans. He had to wonder if he would even recognize any of his old companions. Deke reckoned that he didn’t look much better after the jungle trek.

The other soldiers were so tired that they barely gave Merrick’s men a curious glance. Danilo had dropped out of leading the column and fallen back to walk alongside Deke, Yoshio, and Philly. He didn’t seem to want to call attention to himself, perhaps because he was the only Filipino guerrilla in sight.

At the beach itself, the soldiers emerged onto the white sand and the welcome sea breeze that seemed to carry away the fetid odor of the jungle and their filthy uniforms. Although they were in the full sun after the shade of the jungle, it didn’t seem as hot because of the breeze. Deke’s broad-brimmed hat also helped keep the sun off. He had gotten that hat from a grateful wounded soldier that he had helped on Guam and had long since abandoned his helmet in favor of the bush hat.

As expected, the beach was a beehive of activity. Stacks of equipment were everywhere, along with a handful of trucks that soldiers struggled to get out of the sand. The few company command posts and makeshift hospital areas were marked by tarps or camouflage netting that had been set up to offer protection from the elements. The tarps flapped wildly in the ocean breeze, threatening to blow away. The soldiers’ hold on the beach appeared tentative at best.

Beyond stretched the bright-blue sea without a single ship in sight. Curiously, there were no support vessels offshore. The Japanese still controlled much of the air and waters on this western shore. The landing ships had pulled back to the open sea and the protection of the US fleet and carrier force.

Merrick called a halt, and the company flopped down on the sand, glad to take a load off their weary feet. A runner was sent to the nearest hospital tent, and medics soon appeared, bearing stretchers to carry away the worst of the wounded.

“You ought to go see a doc,” Philly told Deke. “See what they can do about that fever. Hell, if you’ve got malaria, that might be your ticket to one of the hospital ships. They might even send you all the way back to Hawaii.”

“Hell no,” Deke snapped. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

“If you say so,” Philly said doubtfully. Philly appeared excited by the prospect of someone getting sent home, even if it wasn’t him. “I’ve got to say, if it was me, I’d be trying to get somebody to punch my ticket out of here.”

“Well, I ain’t you,” Deke said harshly.

“All right, don’t get sore.”