Savage Sniper

“Our job will be to reconnoiter that route for the rest of the division,” he explained. “That’s where the rice paddies come in.”

“Dammit,” Philly swore. “I guess I won’t bother getting my socks washed, after all.”

“That’s the spirit,” Steele said.

On the outskirts of Ormoc were sprawling rice fields that bordered both sides of the so-called highway. Where the rice paddies ended, there were sometimes a few dry, open acres of pastureland used for cattle. Of course, the cattle were long gone, having been taken to feed the enemy. Beyond the rice paddies and pastureland was where the jungle tended to begin, rolling all the way up into the hills deep in the interior.

A few low-hanging rain clouds chased each other around those low, distant hills. From time to time they could hear booming noises that were either thunder or artillery, or maybe a little of both.

Rice was an important commodity in the region, another reason the Japanese were so eager to keep and hold Ormoc. Not only did rice feed their troops, but the hope was that some of the abundant crop might even find its way back to Japan.

However, a drought that corresponded with the war, along with a labor shortage, had dashed those hopes. Still, the Japanese had made tending the rice paddies a wartime priority in terms of how the Filipino laborers were used. Rice was a crop that required water, meaning that these large open fields were flooded.

It wasn’t long before the soldiers headed out. It was tough going once they left the dry land behind and struck out across the rice paddies. The water only amplified the heat, reflecting the tropical sun like a vast mirror. The proximity to so much water added to the humidity, and they were all soon dripping with sweat. Bad as the jungle could be, Deke felt the sun flogging his back and missed the shade that the forest trees provided. At least his nonregulation broad-brimmed hat offered some relief.

Their slow progress across the vast flooded field was emphasized by the occasional fighter plane that zipped overhead with a roar — and then was gone.

The rice was planted in haphazard fashion so that it grew in scattered clumps rather than neat rows. Having grown up on a farm, Deke had more than a passing interest in the crop. The lack of order bothered him, and he thought it would have been more efficient to plant the rice in rows. He grinned to himself and hefted his rifle, realizing that the farming life was far behind him now. Although he missed the land, he doubted that he’d ever want to go back to the plow.

Due to the unevenness of the underlying ground, the depth of the water varied. In some places, they sank up to their knees in the muck and mire. Mud sucked at their boots.

“One thing for damn sure, if someone starts shooting at us, we won’t be able to get out of the way in a hurry,” Deke remarked.

“Keep your eyes open,” the lieutenant said.

“What the hell is that?” Philly demanded, pointing to something cutting a slithering path through the water.

“Snake,” Deke said. “Big fella too.”

Philly pointed his rifle, as if intending to shoot the snake.

“Knock it off, Philly!” Steele shouted. “We’re out here in the middle of a big shooting gallery. Let’s not call any more attention to ourselves than we need to, or we’ll sure as hell have bigger problems than snakes.”

“I think what Honcho means is that snakes don’t shoot machine guns.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Philly said, nervously watching the surrounding water. Now and then they spotted smaller snakes weaving among the rice shoots. Danilo gave them a wide berth, muttering something that sounded like a curse. This was not reassuring, considering that they had seen their Filipino guide face down everything from giant spiders to Japanese warriors without so much as batting an eye.

“Those appear to be poisonous,” Yoshio pointed out.

“Good to know,” Philly replied through gritted teeth.

Deke mostly kept his eyes on their surroundings. He shared the school of thought that machine guns were a whole lot worse than the local reptiles. He kept both hands on his rifle, just in case. Unfortunately, a Nambu machine gun could reach out from quite a distance, being an effective long-range weapon.

At this point, they began to leave the American lines behind and were moving into Japanese territory. Their mission, in part, was to determine where the Japanese were and the best path to bisect Highway 2.

They walked for another half hour, covering precious little ground and fully exposed all the while.

“This isn’t going to work,” Lieutenant Steele announced, pausing to take off his helmet and wipe his dripping brow. “The Japanese are up ahead somewhere, and they’ll see a group of us coming from a mile off. You boys stay here and I’ll go ahead. One person has a better chance of getting through unseen.”

Deke spoke up. It didn’t seem right that the lieutenant was proposing to strike out on his own toward enemy territory. “Hold on, Honcho. Why not let me go?”