Savage Sniper

Out on the river, the GIs launched their small boat again and got to work repairing the bridge. Deke and Yoshio had bought the repair team the time they needed. It turned out that there was at least one more mask that could be rigged for going underwater, so Deke and Yoshio didn’t need to swim back to return their masks.

That was just fine with Deke, who preferred not to brave the muddy water again. They stayed under cover on the far bank, hoping that the regiment managed to cross before any Japanese returned.

It was a difficult process. First, one of the soldiers lengthened the tubing and used the mask to work underwater, securing ropes to the submerged beams.

They watched as the soldiers rigged a tackle system for the rope and, teetering in the unsteady boat, managed to raise the stubborn beams into place. As soon as the beams were in position, more soldiers raced out and lashed them into place.

The entire operation took no more than half an hour. The river had been bridged once again. The repaired bridge wouldn’t hold a tank, but it was solid enough for men on foot to cross. Once the area was secure, a team of engineers would be able to build a proper bridge or even a pontoon crossing. For now, this was enough.

Patrol Easy was among the first to cross.

“What took you so long?” Deke asked as Philly gave him back his rifle.

Philly just shook his head. “I tell you what, Corn Pone. You are one crazy son of a bitch. You and Yoshio both. I’ve never seen anyone pull a stunt like that.”

Deke was glad to feel his rifle back in his hands. “Stick around, City Slicker,” he said. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Deke returned the masks to their grinning inventor. “Thanks for that,” he said.

“You’ve got guts,” the GI said. “I had no idea if that mask would keep out the water long enough to get to the other side of the river.”

“I’m glad you didn’t tell me that beforehand,” Deke said. “Anyhow, I won’t be in any hurry to do that again. But you better keep those masks handy. I understand that there are several more rivers to cross between here and Palompon.”

As it turned out, Patrol Easy was never going to see Palompon, the destination at the end of Highway 2.

“We just got a message by radio,” Lieutenant Steele said. “We’re being recalled to division HQ.”

“All the way back at the beach? That’s an awfully long walk.”

“Then we’d better get started.”

CHAPTER SIX

It had been a long walk, after all. Thankfully they hadn’t run into any enemy patrols. It was still a mystery why they had been pulled back to the beachhead in the midst of the operation to seize Palompon. More than likely their orders would involve heading back out into the jungle and hills to deal with the Japanese who remained entrenched elsewhere.

For now the war could wait. Judging by the appearance of the tired men lounging on the sand, they weren’t in any hurry to get back to the fighting. The push across the rice paddies and then Highway 2 toward Palompon had left them exhausted.

“The Nips are beat, all right,” Philly announced to no one in particular. “The trouble is that they don’t know they’re beat.”

“They don’t seem like they’re beat to me,” Deke responded. “But they will be.”

“You wait and see. They’ll send us right back out again. No rest for the weary.”

“I reckon somebody has to actually fight the Japanese instead of unloading more gear on the beach. Maybe the plan is to bury them alive with packing crates. Do you think there’s even anything left back in the States? If nothing else, we’ll have to take back some ground from the Japs just so we have somewhere to put all this stuff.”

“You might just be right about that.”

Deke spent a moment watching the laboring men, then said, “I hate to say it, but I’d rather be on patrol than humping crates up the beach.”

Philly shook his head. “Honestly, I might not mind if the Japanese weren’t so damn determined to kill us — or kill themselves in the process. A normal enemy ought to know when to give up.”

It was a familiar refrain among many soldiers. Truth be told, Deke couldn’t have agreed more with Philly. The Japanese soldiers were bent on destruction — preferably the destruction of American forces, but self-destruction also seemed fine with them. They would fight until their last breath. Time and again they had proved that determination to the bitter end, taking more than a few GIs with them in the process. It was a mindset that Americans still struggled to understand. When faced with defeat, the enemy seemed to think that the only option was death.

Yoshio, the Nisei soldier who also served as an interpreter, had rarely been called upon to translate, because there were seldom any prisoners. Then again, Japanese prisoners did not always survive being captured by troops who had seen too many of their buddies killed.