Savage Sniper

“We could toss a note over the fence,” he said. The look on the priest’s face indicated that he was grasping at straws. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“I don’t think so, Padre,” Steele said. “What happens when one of the guards picks it up instead of one of the prisoners? The Japanese will know what we’re up to and then start executing our people.”

“You have a good point. Nonetheless…” The priest left the thought unfinished.

“Yeah, nonetheless,” Steele agreed.

Deke’s plan was simple but outlandish. He had proposed turning up at the prison gate and allowing himself to be captured. It sounded like madness, but it might be their best chance of getting a man on the inside. It seemed unlikely that the emaciated POWs could overpower the guards. However, Deke might be able to organize some sort of breakout, knowing that Patrol Easy and the guerrillas were waiting in the wings.

To that end, a plan was hatched to cut a hole in the perimeter fence just after midnight on the second night.

“I’d rather cut that hole in the fence sooner rather than later,” Steele said. “But you’re going to need some time to organize the breakout.”

“Sounds about right,” Deke said, although he was beginning to have his doubts. Did their entire escape plan actually revolve around simply cutting a hole in the fence and leaving the details of getting through that hole up to Deke?

“One thing for sure is that we’re not going to leave you in there,” Steele said. “One way or another, we’ll get you out.”

“If the Japanese shoot me outright from the get-go, you won’t have to worry about it.”

The lieutenant frowned. He didn’t have a good response for that.

They talked it over some more. When he presented himself at the gate, it was decided that Deke’s cover story would be that he had become separated from his patrol and had been wandering in the jungle for three days. Desperate and starving in the harsh forest environment, he had been willing to give himself up.

There were a couple of flaws in Deke’s plan. The first — and it was a big one — was that the Japanese wouldn’t believe him and would shoot him outright. The second flaw was that he might be kept separate from the other prisoners and not have a chance to communicate with them. Finally, it was possible that the appearance of a soldier at their gate would alert the Japanese that American troops were in the vicinity. They might double the guard in preparation for an attack, thus making escape harder.

“There are more holes in this plan than I’ve got in my socks,” Lieutenant Steele said unhappily. He glared at Deke. “But if you’re willing to give it a try, then so am I.”

“I was afraid you might say that,” Deke replied. He handed his rifle and bowie knife to Philly. “Take care of these for me, old buddy. If I don’t come back, shoot some Japanese for me.”

“You’ll come back.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” Deke attempted a smile to set everyone’s fears at ease, but it looked more like a grimace. “Those Japanese aren’t going to know what hit them.”

The midday sun was blazing down when Deke appeared at the gates of the prison compound.

The arrival of an American soldier at the prison gates caused consternation, to say the least. Deke didn’t understand a word of it, but there was a lot of shouting, some of it directed at him. He couldn’t understand any of it. He saw plenty of rifles pointed at him, but nobody was shooting — at least not yet.

He had arrived without a weapon and with his arms raised over his head in the universal gesture of surrender. He had to credit the sheer surprise at seeing an unarmed American with keeping him alive.

However, they weren’t opening the gates. The Japanese guards kept looking suspiciously at the empty dirt road leading to the gates or at the empty trees in the distance. Maybe they thought that Deke was some sort of Trojan horse. Come to think of it, he was just that, at least in a sense.

Finally, the Japanese came up with an officer who spoke English. He wore round eyeglasses that gave him a studious appearance, like a militant schoolteacher.

“What do you want?” the officer demanded.

“Help me,” Deke said, letting it all pour out. “Please. I can’t take it out here anymore. I got separated from my unit, and I haven’t had anything to eat in days. I want to surrender.”

This was the story he had agreed upon with Lieutenant Steele. The Japanese officer looked him up and down skeptically. His gaze took in the scars on one side of Deke’s face, and the officer’s eyes briefly widened in surprise. It was a universal reaction, Deke thought, whether it came from a Japanese officer or a girl at a USO dance.

Deke certainly looked the part of a GI who had wandered the jungle for days. He carried no rifle or knife; he had no food or canteen. He’d already been plenty dirty, but he had rubbed even more dirt into his face and uniform.

At a gesture from the officer, the gate was opened just wide enough for a couple of soldiers to slip through.