Pacific Sniper

Philly nodded, then put the rifle to his shoulder. He aimed and squeezed off five rapid shots from the M1. His rate of fire was impressive. Gouts of sand erupted down the beach, indicating where the bullets had struck, but the coconut went unscathed.

“That’s about what I expected,” the lieutenant said.

“Damn thing doesn’t shoot straight,” Philly complained.

The others laughed, except for Deke. The lieutenant just scowled. “Don’t laugh until the rest of you show me what you can do. Ingram, you’re up next.”

Ingram hit the coconut on the second shot, causing it to hop high into the air. Rodeo missed altogether.

The last soldier stepped forward. “Pawelczyk,” he said.

“That’s a mouthful. Polish, huh?”

“That’s why my buddies call me Alphabet.”

“I’ll bet they do. The question is: Alphabet, can you hit the target?”

It took three shots, but his final bullet sent the coconut flying.

“Not bad, Alphabet. I guess we’ll keep you around.”

The men all became so caught up in the shooting match that it was almost possible to forget that they were in the middle of a war, in the middle of the Pacific. Deke couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the jungle just beyond the beach, scanning for any enemy soldiers, unwilling to let his guard down while the others turned their attention to the shooting match.

He noticed the lieutenant doing the same between rounds of the men shooting.

“Ingram, it looks as if you might give Deke here a run for his money,” the lieutenant said.

“What about you, sir? Aren’t we gonna see you shoot?”

“What did I say about that? You want to get me killed?”

“Sorry, sir. Uh, I mean, just sorry.”

The lieutenant hefted his shotgun. “With this bum eye the Japs gave me, I’ll have to stick with a shotgun.” What seemed to be unspoken was something they all knew, which was that the lieutenant’s eye injury should have been his ticket home. A lot of men, especially officers, had managed to get sent home with less severe injuries. Instead, the lieutenant had decided to stay and fight.

The jury was still out on whether that meant he was a brave son of a bitch—or had a death wish.

The lieutenant continued, “Unfortunately, it’s my dominant right eye that’s bad, so I’d have to learn to shoot a rifle all over again. Instead, I’ll have to leave the shooting up to you men, or some of you, at least. Deke, Ingram, and Alphabet will be the designated snipers, while Rodeo, Philly, and me will be the scouts. That’s the eyes and ears of a sniper.”

“You?”

“There’s no room for deadwood in this unit, and that includes me.”

“What about weapons, Honcho?” Ingram asked.

“You’ve all got rifles, in case you haven’t noticed. There is currently no better weapon than the Garand M1.”

“But don’t we get actual sniper rifles? With telescopic sights?”

“I’m working on it,” the lieutenant said. “In case you haven’t noticed, sniper rifles are in short supply. The armory happens to be several thousand miles away. About the only thing that’s plentiful on this island would be coconuts, sand, and Japs. Speaking of which, it’s going to be dark soon, so we need to dig in for the night.”

“Hey, Honcho, when do we go after the Japs?” Philly asked. He seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was allowed to call an officer by a nickname just a little too much.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Philly. There will be plenty of Japs around tonight. They’re accomplished night fighters, believe me. Tomorrow, we’ll do some training in sniper tactics. Don’t forget what I told you about Guadalcanal. Believe me, if you don’t learn how to beat the Japs at their own game, you won’t last a minute out there.”

Chapter Six

Before they could do any training, they had to survive their first night of war, on a mountainous jungle island held by the enemy. More than one man wondered just what the hell he had gotten himself into.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of wish I was back on Market Street, watching the dames go by,” Philly muttered. “I used to think that was tame stuff. I wouldn’t mind something tame right about now. How about you, Deke? What did you do for fun on Saturday nights in the country? Milk the cows? Fuck a goat?”

Deke snorted. “Goats were all right for weeknights, but if you could get yourself a sheep for Saturday night, now that was special.”

Philly stared at him. “The scary thing is that I can’t tell if you’re serious or not. I sure hope we don’t end up together in a foxhole tonight.”

The squad moved toward the perimeter, where the leading edge of the regiment faced the Japanese Army. Fighting had been intense all day, so no one expected an easy night ahead. The Japs had a reputation as night fighters and favored infiltration. It didn’t help that most of the army troops were green and trigger-happy. Deke and the rest of the new squad took up a position anchoring the flank of B Company.

“Dig ’em deep, fellas,” Lieutenant Steele said. “I know it’s hot as hell, but if the Japs hit us with mortars, you’ll want that hole as deep as possible.”