Hunter Sniper

“I never thought I’d be looking forward to seeing a beach again,” Private Frazier said. “Then again, I wouldn’t mind having one more crack at the Japanese.”

One look at Frazier confirmed that his words weren’t intended as boasting or bravado. He was soaked through with sweat, and he must have been just as dog-tired as anyone. The big man was carrying his BAR slung over his shoulder so that the weapon hung at his waist, ready in an instant to deal with any enemy threats. He was like a one-man destruction squad, a veritable two-legged tank.

Not all the men had Frazier’s fighting spirit. As the company plodded along, Captain Merrick had seemed to sense the lethargy overtaking his men and was doing his best to prod them to maintain their situational awareness. He knew that one of the best ways to come out ahead in a fight was not to stumble into one.

The problem was that his men were just going through the motions, more like sleepwalkers than soldiers. It was understandable if his men were beat, considering that they had been operating on little sleep and lousy food. Not to mention that they had already fought two significant actions against the enemy during this jungle trek. They had lost several good men during this mission.

There was no doubt that the captain was just as exhausted as his men, but a good officer did not have the luxury of slacking off. It was his job to see the mission succeed and keep as many of his men as possible alive during its completion.

They were under constant threat of attack from the Japanese — and whatever else the jungle managed to throw at them. He knew well enough that any lapse in vigilance would leave them vulnerable.

The Japanese were not the only danger.

There was the jungle itself, which was challenging enough without the enemy lurking in it. There were roots on the trail to twist a man’s ankle, snakes, multicolored spiders so big that they caught birds in their webs and ate them, stinging centipedes, plus sharp-edged kunai grass and spiky cantala shrubs that cut bare skin like a knife.

The sweltering heat draped over them all like a soggy net. Sudden downpours left them shivering.

Given all the above, a swift death from a Japanese bullet almost seemed like a mercy.

There was also illness lurking here. The captain looked in Deke’s direction and frowned, as if aware that his most dependable set of ears and eyes was now among the walking wounded, down and out with some sort of jungle fever.

“Hang in there, boys,” Merrick said. “Keep your eyes open while you’re at it.”

* * *

Deke felt like his head was wrapped in gauze — or possibly spiderwebs. Maybe he had walked smack-dab into one of those big webs hanging across the trail and he hadn’t even noticed. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, which was the best that he could do.

As they moved up the trail with Danilo on point and Philly just behind him, they were on the lookout for the Japanese.

“Hey, Danilo, just remember to shoot first and ask questions later,” Philly said.

Ahead of him, the Filipino guerrilla threw up a hand to indicate that he had heard Philly. Whether or not he understood anything other than his name remained an open question. Danilo hadn’t spoken any English, but he seemed able to understand it — when he wanted to. It all added to the air of mystery that seemed to hang around their Filipino guide.

“That’s what I like about you, Danilo,” Philly continued. “You don’t say much. Hell, you talk even less than Deke.”

Normally Deke would have been the one leading the unit down the trail. Sick and feverish, he was struggling along behind the others. Every movement seemed to take extra concentration, as if Deke was trying to operate in a dreamy fog.

Yoshio was nearby whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on — which was more and more often as the day wore on.

“I can’t believe I’ve dodged all these Japanese bullets so far, only to get laid low by some jungle bug,” Deke said.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” said Yoshio with a patient smile. “You just take it one step at a time, my friend. You will be feeling better before you know it.”

“So you’re a doctor now too?”

“I am the closest thing you are going to get to a doctor anytime soon, so take my word for it.”

Deke wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. Increasingly, he appreciated Yoshio’s quiet inner strength.

The young soldier had been through so much — from seeing his family put into an internment camp to dealing with blatant prejudice against anything and anyone Japanese — an understandable response in the middle of a war against the Japanese Empire.

Having seen his own family farm lost to the bank during the Great Depression, Deke reckoned he knew a thing or two about what it was like to be uprooted and put off your land. The experience had shaken the Cole family and stolen their heritage. For a mountain person, land and family was everything.