Hunter Sniper

Taking a lesson from the night of attacks that the aid station had endured at Camp Downes, several of the walking wounded had been posted as guards. Able-bodied men could not be spared because they were needed for the mopping-up operation. Other troops had been sent — finally — to guard the areas around Ipil and Camp Downes, protecting the US rear as well as the supply road from the beach.

That road would soon be busy carrying supplies to Ormoc. The town would quickly be transformed into the jumping-off point for expeditions deeper into the interior of Leyte, where the remaining Japanese forces would be making their last stand.

It was typical of army operations that once an area was secure, the emphasis shifted to logistics. Bullets might win the battle, but an efficient supply chain was going to win the war.

The supply road was not long in terms of miles, but it was vulnerable to attack. The small bands of Japanese that had evaded capture soon targeted the road, ambushing trucks and even troops moving toward Ormoc. The supply road was now the soft underbelly of the US advance.

Mother Nature also weighed in. A brief but heavy tropical downpour during the night had turned it into a quagmire. Or, as some soldiers liked to say, “King Mud” had arrived. Even the toughest truck driver had to bow down before him.

More than a few of the Japanese trucks were soon stuck up to their axles, so that it took a considerable effort and a steady stream of cursing to get them moving again. Even a tank coming from the beach got so bogged down that it had to be abandoned — at least until the road dried out. So far it was the only tank that had been lost in the fight for Ormoc.

Under these conditions, it would take the better part of two days to carry the wounded to the beach, and another two days for the trucks to return with supplies. The enemy’s destruction of the gasoline stockpiles was felt even more keenly.

Trucks were ready and waiting to take the wounded to the beach. As with the guards, many of the drivers were lightly wounded but had nonetheless volunteered to drive the trucks. Some of them managed to work the clutch using a foot swathed in bandages or steer a bucking bronco of a truck with bandaged hands.

Once they got the wounded to the beach, they would be ferried from there to the superior medical facilities provided by the US Navy. With Ormoc and its airfield knocked out, word had come that the navy would be sending transports once more to carry the wounded off the beach. There were still Japanese planes to worry about, but they were willing to take that chance.

There was enough of a respite from the fighting that Deke was able to walk back to the field hospital to check on Alphabet. Doc Harmon caught sight of Deke passing by and paused in his work long enough to shout, “You look like hell, soldier!”

“You ought to see the other guy, Doc. He doesn’t look like hell. He is in hell.” Moving closer, Deke asked, “How’s my buddy Alphabet doing?”

“He’s already been trucked back to the beach. With any luck, he’ll make it.” Doc Harmon looked Deke up and down with an appraising eye. “What about you? How’s that fever?”

“I’m feeling pretty good. Say, what was in those pills you sent me, Doc?”

“You don’t want to know. Let’s just say you’ll be feeling good for a while. Hell, a horse would be feeling good for a while.”

“You got any more where those came from?”

“Son, if I gave you any more, it’d probably kill you.”

“All right, then. I’ll just stick with that nasty tea our Filipino guide brewed up for me.”

The doc’s eyes widened in mock alarm. “I’ve heard about some of the local folk remedies. Sounds like that might kill you too.”

“I’ll take my chances. You take care, Doc.”

“You too, Deadeye.”

* * *

The battle might be over, but there was precious little in the way of peace and quiet in Ormoc. Much of the town of Ormoc lay in a smoking ruin. The townspeople who crept back in would find a terrible shambles, but at long last the occupying Japanese had been cut out like the infection from a festering wound.

The Japanese had not been completely defeated on Leyte. They had simply retreated into the hills and jungle to make their last stand. Knowing the Japanese, they would fight until the last man. The soldiers could expect a bitter conclusion.

All around the Pacific, the noose was tightening around the Japanese. But they only fought harder, churning through a seemingly endless supply of soldiers and planes and ships. Fewer each month, perhaps, but still a threat.

There remained the rest of the Philippines to conquer. The nation comprised a series of islands that would have to be removed from Japanese control, one by one. Leyte was just the first. The biggest prize, the pearl itself, was the city of Manila, located on the island of Luzon. There the Japanese had vowed to fight to the last man and had already vowed that there would be no surrender.