CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A few days later, Deke was in another cramped bunk, feeling the ship roll beneath him and trying to ignore that familiar queasy feeling in his belly.

“I’ve got to say that I’m almost wishing I was back on Leyte, scrambling through the jungle,” he said. The words came out closer to sounding like a groan than he would have liked. “Anything has got to be better than being stuck on this damn ship.”

“You can keep your jungle,” said Philly, jammed into another bunk nearby, intent on reading a magazine. “Snakes, spiders, bugs, Japs — and sleeping in a hole in a ground if you’re lucky. No sirree, baby. Give me a bunk and three squares any day of the week.”

It was a familiar debate. More than one soldier had asked himself why he hadn’t had the good sense to join the navy instead. Then again, they had seen firsthand how terrifying it could be on a ship when the Japs came calling. Deke thought of his cousin Jasper, killed at Pearl Harbor. More and more, it was hard not to come across someone who hadn’t lost a relative or a buddy in the war, either in the Pacific or in Europe, or even in the cold waters of the North Atlantic.

Deke groaned again. Yoshio was in another bunk, ignoring them both as he turned the pages of a Western novel. Deke doubted that there had been many Japanese gunslingers in the Old West, but the snipers whom he’d run into on Guam and Leyte would have been good candidates. They’d have given any of Zane Grey’s heroes a run for their money.

Rodeo and Alphabet were sleeping in their bunks. Bat and Ball weren’t there, having been sent back to the marines where they belonged. Rumor had it that they were heading for some island called Iwo Jima.

Stuck without much to do, the men were entertaining themselves as best as they could. Yoshio had his book, and Philly had gotten into a card game or two — somehow, he had managed not to lose his shirt.

Deke had spent some time writing a rare letter to Sadie, off in Washington, DC. He owed her a letter, considering that he’d gotten a note from her when he was still on Guam. That letter had been full of details about city life and police work. To Deke’s surprise, he could read between the lines that his sister didn’t miss home or their life on the farm the same way that he did. In fact, she seemed to have embraced city life and her new career.

But that was Sadie for you. Like a cat, she always landed on her feet. He had enjoyed visiting her before shipping out, back when the unit was training on the Chesapeake Bay. They’d had a good time, and Deke had enjoyed meeting some of the girls she knew. Sadie must have warned them about his scars, because they hadn’t asked questions and hadn’t stared. But it didn’t change the fact that he was damaged goods compared to all the other soldier boys they had to choose from in the big city.

As for Washington itself, Deke had been impressed by the stately white buildings, places that he’d only heard about, such as the White House, the United States Capitol, and even the Washington Monument. It felt strange, in a way, to see them in person, but also reassuring. These buildings represented the institutions and the ideals that they were all fighting for. Deke respected that and hadn’t lost sight of why they were all here, which was easy enough to do.

Dear Sadie,

We have had a hard time here in the Pacific, but we are getting through it all right. There are a lot of good men in my unit and we have a real good officer. I would follow him anywhere. He reminds me of Pa in some ways. The Japs are a tough nut to crack and many are good shots, but not as good as you. I feel sorry for any man who thinks he can shoot better than you. How are things going for you in Washington? I hope they are giving you more to do than write parking tickets.

Right now we are getting plenty of chow, but I do miss a good breakfast like we used to have on the farm sometimes. That’s all for now, I reckon.

Your brother,

Deacon

It was a short letter, but he supposed that something was better than nothing. Besides, once land came into view, it was hard to say when he would ever have a chance to write again. There was a lot more that he couldn’t put in the letter, of course. The censors would have struck out any details anyhow.

Deke realized that the last few days had been a confusing whirlwind. After their rescue from the beach on Leyte, their time aboard the destroyer turned out to be relatively short. The Ingersoll had backtracked until it came to the invasion fleet making its way across the Pacific.

After a few days, they found themselves transferred to USS Elmore. They had been a novelty aboard the destroyer, but Ingersoll had returned to its regular duties of escorting aircraft carriers through waters still infested by the enemy, whether on the water, beneath the waves, or in the air.

Elmore was an attack transport, loaded with men ready to launch the invasion of Leyte. The ship itself wouldn’t take them to shore. When the time came, they would descend rope netting to Higgins boats waiting to take them to shore, where the Japanese would be waiting.

Deke tried not to think too much about that.

Despite their efforts during the raid, they received no special treatment compared to the rest of the troops aboard. Philly had done some crowing about how they deserved a medal for what they had done, but that was wishful thinking. The way Deke saw it, many others had done plenty more.

Like the other troops, they were more or less confined to their cramped quarters, with the exception being a few hours on deck each day for exercise and fresh air. There were organized calisthenics and weapons inspections just to keep the men on their toes.

The sailors had a ship to run so were busy going about their duties. Hordes of soldiers on deck just got in their way, which was why the troops were kept under wraps for the most part. Also, the army officers didn’t want their boys to get the mistaken idea that they were on a pleasure cruise. Lieutenant Steele had disappeared into his officer’s quarters, and they had not seen much of him since coming aboard.

“I’m not going to babysit you,” he had announced. “Get some sleep, eat all you can, and stay the hell out of trouble. I’ll see you when we get back to Leyte.”

Leyte. It was a place he’d never heard of until a few weeks ago, and now he was never going to forget it.

Deke had said that he would gladly have traded his seasick state for another stint in the jungle, and it looked as though he was going to get his wish. Leyte was hardly in their rearview mirror. Instead, it was their destination once again, this time with several thousand other troops. It was a good thing those guns had been knocked out.

Almost every man on the ship had seen action in some way, and nobody was looking forward to more of it. Not that they had any choice. As usual, the GIs had been told as little as possible, which meant that the rumor mill was going full tilt.

“I hear we’re going to some place called Leyte,” one of the soldiers on deck had said to Deke and Philly, like he was letting them in on a big secret.

“Leyte, huh?” Philly turned to the soldier and said, “Take my word for it, buddy, when I say that we don’t recommend it.”

“What would you know about it?” the soldier asked, but at a look from Deke, he suddenly remembered that he needed to be someplace else.

“There you go again, scaring the neighbors,” Philly said.

“All I did was look at him.”

“Exactly.”

One good thing about being on the transport was that they recognized several people they did want to talk to. One of those was Egan. He had been left behind on Guam because his main skill had been as a war dog handler — not a scout or sniper. At the time, he hadn’t even had a dog.

But that was then and this was now. They had reunited earlier with Egan, right after coming aboard.

What they hadn’t seen before was his new dog. He was now walking a large, blondish dog on deck. It was hard to say what the dog’s lineage was, but there was definitely some German shepherd in there. One of the dog’s ears sagged, like maybe he’d already seen some action.

There were a handful of similar war dogs that would be going ashore to sniff out hidden Japs and protect against enemy incursions at night. The dogs were being kept in shape, like the men themselves, with as much exercise and training as the cramped quarters aboard ship allowed. There was one strip of sod that had been laid out on deck for the dogs, the only bit of greenery on the ship. That grass had a distinct purpose.

“Believe me, you don’t want to go walking on that grass,” Philly said.

“No worries about that.”

Egan approached, leading the dog. Philly whistled. “Where’d you get the pony?”

“This is Thor,” Egan said, grinning. It had taken him a long time to smile again after Whoa Nelly had been killed in the fighting on Guam. “Best damn dog in the Pacific.”

Thor growled when Philly tried to pet him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Egan said, keeping a firm grip on Thor’s leash. Philly didn’t need to be told twice but had taken a couple of steps back. “These guys aren’t trained to be lapdogs, you know.”

Deke always did have a soft spot for dogs, having grown up around them, and the big German shepherd mix didn’t scare him any. He knelt and scratched the dog’s ears.

Thor responded by wagging his tail.

“I’ll be damned,” Egan said. “He likes you.”

“You’re all right, ain’t you, boy?” Deke said quietly. “Those Japs are going to take one look at you, and they’re gonna run the other way.”

He gave Thor a final rub and straightened up. As useful as it was to have the dogs guarding them, he felt that it wasn’t right to bring a dog into combat. Too many of the dogs had died on Guam when the Japs began to target them out of fear and hatred.

“I’ve got to say, Deke, that you’re about the last person I would have taken for an animal lover,” Egan said.

“Sure, I like dogs. It’s mainly people I don’t like.” When Deke saw the expression on his buddies’ faces, he added, “Present company excepted.”

Philly snorted. “After the war, I’ll bet you’re gonna go live in a shack in the woods somewhere.”

“No,” he said. “I’m going to get my family’s farm back from the son-of-a-bitch banker who stole it from us, that’s what.”

“You want that farm back so you can bale hay and milk cows all day? It sounds like maybe he did you a favor,” Philly said.

Deke just shook his head. “City folk wouldn’t understand.”

“I guess not. Listen, I heard Ernie Pyle is somewhere on this ship. I’d like to talk to him and get my name in the newspaper.”

“If you want to make a fool out of yourself, then go right ahead,” Deke said, but he was grinning. “Go on, then.”

Deke watched him go off in search of the famed newspaper reporter. Alone at the ship’s rail, he looked across the sparkling sea. He stared at the horizon, a trick he had learned to help with the seasickness. Their ship was just one of many, a convoy heading to kick the Japs out of the Philippines, although the Japs didn’t have plans to go anywhere.

I reckon we’ll see how that turns out, Deke thought.

* * *

Ikeda stood near Major Noguchi, both men looking out to sea. He lifted his hand to his eyes to shield them from the glare off the water. A few Japanese vessels were visible near the shore, on patrol. They had been on high alert since the raid a few days ago. Overhead, planes patrolled the skies. There seemed to be constant dogfights between the Japanese planes and the American fighter pilots. Still, some of the enemy planes broke through and managed to bomb or strafe the Japanese defenses.

It was for naught — Major Noguchi had engineered the defenses so well that even the most well-placed bomb or rocket scarcely had any impact on what he had built here.

The deep-blue surface of Leyte Gulf remained empty of enemy ships, but not for much longer. The growing number of planes was a sign that the Americans were coming, and when they arrived, the Japanese would be ready.

“Perhaps we cannot win,” Major Noguchi had admitted in a moment of candor. However, he did not appear gloomy or defeated as he said it. Noguchi was simply being pragmatic, as usual. He was a builder, after all, not a warrior. The major had a bandage on his head where a chunk of stone had struck him when the American raiders exploded the bunker. Absently, he touched the bandage. “Rest assured, we shall make them pay dearly.”

“And we shall die gloriously,” Ikeda added.

The major sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is a possibility.”

Neither man had spoken directly of the raid, which they found personally embarrassing. Despite their best efforts, the raiders had managed to destroy the gun battery on Guinhangdan Hill.

However, the shoreline was far from undefended. Even in the days since the raid, more rifle pits and hidden machine-gun nests had been added near the beach. The hill itself was close to an impregnable fortress. The raiders had taken them by surprise, but there would not be much of an element of surprise once American forces stormed the beach.

Although the battery of massive guns had been destroyed, Major Noguchi had lost no time in bringing in more artillery to occupy the same bunker. To be sure, the replacements were smaller, but they would still rain destruction down on the beach and assault craft. It was just the big ships that would now be out of reach.

The rest of the hill remained honeycombed with trenches, tunnels, and firing pits. Again, this was the result of many months of effort.

Ikeda’s own team of sogekihei marksmen was ready to occupy these fortifications, both here on the hill and closer to the beach. He had worked tirelessly to train these men well, even if one of his best men had been shot and killed at the ravine where they had almost cornered the enemy raiders. The poor man had been hit in the belly and plunged over the side.

Perhaps Major Noguchi was correct and they could not hope to stop the steel wave as it broke upon their shore, but they could make the invaders pay dearly all the same. If they did not stop the Americans here, then they would be that much closer to Japan.

The Japanese high command was well aware of what was at stake. A constant stream of ships had been arriving to bring reinforcements to the Philippines. While the Japanese did seem to have men and ammunition in relative abundance, what they lacked was a supply of food and other basic needs, such as medical supplies, for these men. The Americans had wrought such havoc on their shipping that the supply ships had simply not been able to get through. There was only so much that the Japanese commanders could do to feed an army off the land itself. Many of the Japanese troops who had helped to build the defenses on this hill still looked weak and underfed.

As for the Filipinos themselves, it had become clear that several of those who attacked the hill had been guerrilla soldiers. The few who had been captured had been dealt with severely enough.

Also, there had been reprisals in the nearby village of Palo, which was likely home to many family members of these guerrillas. Ikeda himself had led a search of the village, resulting in gathering several more workers for the crews on the hill and the beach defenses. Those Filipinos who had resisted had not survived — Ikeda had seen to that.

Although he went about his duties enthusiastically, the marksman realized that his role was a small one. Ikeda knew that he probably could not even begin to grasp the sheer scale of the military strategy involved. But he could fight. His own battle would simply be reduced to what he could see in his rifle sights.

He hoped that he might get the chance to again confront the American sniper he had run into. The man was clever and a good shot.

Were American snipers as good as Ikeda himself? Ikeda smiled. That remained to be seen, but he knew that he and his men would soon be put to the test.

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