Savage Sniper

“You got that right.” Deke wrinkled his nose. With so many men forced to shelter inside the bunker, one corner had been designated as the latrine area. Aside from the firing slits, there wasn’t much in the way of ventilation.

“So we sit here for how long?” Philly wondered.

“I don’t see Colonel Yamagata as the patient type. He’ll want to put an end to this sooner rather than later.”

“You mean the Japanese are gonna try something to shake us loose?”

“Damn straight,” Deke said.

Lieutenant Steele called for an ammo count.

“We have thirty rounds between us,” Yoshio replied. He and Rodeo were paired up, covering one of the firing slits.

Deke and Philly counted out their clips. “About the same,” Deke said.

“All right, I’ve got a dozen shells left,” Steele said, referring to his twelve-gauge shotgun. “Father Francisco and his boys are in the same boat. I wish to hell that we’d brought more ammo.”

Nobody needed to remind Steele that ammunition was heavy, and they had been traveling light on this raid. The goal had been to liberate the POWs, not engage in a running battle.

“That’s not much ammo for a last stand,” Philly said.

“Who the hell said anything about this being a last stand?” Steele demanded. “We came here to liberate these men and get them back to our lines, which is exactly what we are going to do.”

“You got it, Honcho,” Philly quickly agreed.

Deke knew that the lieutenant could make all the speeches that he wanted to, but their ability to achieve the mission goal was being severely limited by their firepower. Of course, the prisoners themselves didn’t have a weapon among them. Deke also knew that Colonel Yamagata was no fool. He would have guessed the Americans’ situation and would do something soon to force an outcome.

Also, much of the day had been lost to the stalemate. Already the sun was getting low through the treetops. It was hard to say whether nightfall would give an advantage to the Japanese or to the Americans, who might use darkness as cover to slip through the encircling enemy.

Deke didn’t have to wait long before he was proved right about the Japanese taking action, although in this case, being correct gave him no pleasure. Through the scope, he detected movement at the edge of the forest where the attackers had taken cover. He let his breath out, waiting for a target.

“Here they come.” Philly had seen it too.

All at once the Japanese burst from the forest and into the clearing. Deke counted a dozen men, all screaming their heads off and dashing toward the bunker with bayonets gleaming on the ends of their rifles. Most also had grenades strung around their necks. There was no doubt what they had in mind. They planned to get close enough to get some of those grenades through the firing slits. If that happened, the interior of the bunker would be a perfect detonation chamber for an explosive, the shrapnel causing terrible destruction. No, the Japanese couldn’t be allowed to get that close.

On the plus side, the appearance of the men out in the open gave Deke and the other snipers plenty of targets, like serving up biscuits on a plate.

Or so he thought. Deke was just about to fire when the enemy’s machine gun opened up, strafing the side of the bunker. Another burst raked the foxholes, sending the Filipino fighters scrambling for cover.

It was impossible not to duck your head down out of sheer reflex. When Deke put his head back up, the Japanese were already halfway across the clearing and closing fast.

“I want fire on the enemy now!” Steele screamed, a little unnecessarily. Following his own orders, he ran to the firing slit on the side facing the assault and poked his rifle through the opening.

Deke put his sights on the closest Japanese and fired. The man went down. He worked the bolt, picked out another target, and fired. He was shoulder to shoulder with the other snipers, and their deadly accurate fire was having a devastating effect on the enemy assault. Already half the attackers were gone.

Deke had the thought that the Japanese were damn stupid.

That was when there was a warning shout from the other side of the bunker.

“There’s a bunch more of them coming up our backside,” Faraday cried. He was facing the fresh wave of attackers with a useless pistol, having emptied his gun earlier in anger at the Japanese for one of their stray shots killing a POW inside the bunker. His plan seemed to be that he would simply use it as a club if the enemy got close enough.

“Deke, Philly, get over there, now!” the lieutenant shouted. “Rodeo, Yoshio, you cover this side with me.”

Deke pushed past the knot of ex-POWs huddling in the center of the bunker to get at the firing slits on the other side. Faraday and Cooper were there, keeping an eye on the Japanese. They had no weapons, but it was clear from their expressions that they would punch at the Japanese through the firing slit if it came down to it.

“Get down before you get yourself shot,” Deke growled, shoving Faraday aside to get a clear angle of fire.