by Chris Glatte
He sat next to Felipe. Sam noticed Felipe’s hand shaking as he brought the cup to his lips and drank. Sam started to speak, but Felipe shook his head. He was staring at a man sitting in the dirt across from him. The dirty Filipino caught his stare and Sam saw Felipe flash him a quick hand signal. The worker’s eyes lit up momentarily, but he went back to his meal. Seconds passed before Sam saw the man nudge the prisoner next to him. He flashed the same hand signal. He watched as each prisoner passed the signal. His heart swelled as he realized most of the work crew was part of the resistance. He’d been trying to survive day to day, while all along he’d had friends all around him.
Felipe was also watching. When the signal had traversed the entire group, Sam spoke. “What happens now?”
Felipe looked annoyed. “It’ll happen in the barracks. As we enter tonight.”
Sam felt the heat of adrenalin rush through his body. He wanted to ask so many questions, but knew Felipe was done talking.
The bunkers they’d been slaving over were nearly complete. Sam spent the rest of the day thinking how it would happen. They wouldn’t have their tools, they always left them at the site. He wondered how they would fight armed soldiers with only their hands. He hoped there was a plan. He didn’t relish the thought of charging headlong into machine gun fire.
The work day finally ended. Sam could feel a barely contained energy in the group. The normally sullen and beaten-down prisoners were more alert. They seemed to step a little lighter. He hoped the Japanese didn’t notice.
He glanced at the nearest guard. The soldier had his long Arisaka rifle slung over his shoulder and he looked bored. The officer in charge walked at the front of the column. He looked crisp and efficient even though his shirt was soaked with sweat. He looked like an aristocrat among the bedraggled prisoners. Sam had seen him use the samurai sword which hung from his belt, to deadly effect. If a prisoner was too weak to work or was injured, the officer took great pleasure in dispatching them with a quick stroke. Sam pictured himself killing him, choking the life out of him.
As the column approached the barracks, a soldier with stripes on his shoulder jogged up to the officer’s side and saluted. There was a quick exchange and the sergeant pointed toward the sea. The officer nodded and gazed in the direction, but the city buildings blocked the view. He spoke to the nearest guard who bowed and started yelling at the prisoners. He motioned and pushed them to hurry.
Sam tensed as he entered the barracks. His eyes darted around the familiar space looking for some clue as to how they would fight, but the space looked the same. He could see nothing different. He took a deep breath, readying himself for his death.
He followed Felipe, who acted as though nothing was about to happen. He stopped at his normal spot and the Japanese soldiers hustled to ready the chains. Sam thought, surely we’ll strike before we’re chained.
He wanted to ask Felipe, but knew he needed to keep quiet and follow along. The guard was about to string the chain through the first prisoner when a single shot rang out nearby. It was immediately followed by more until it was rippling all around the building. The soldiers in the room unslung their rifles and looked around like cornered rats. They backed away from the prisoners with their rifles leveled. There was shouting and more firing outside.
The soldier nearest the door turned as a bullet ricocheted off the metal wall. The nearest prisoner took the opportunity and leaped like a tiger. He tackled the soldier from behind and the soldier screamed in surprise. In an instant the rest of the prisoners were up and attacking. There were four guards inside. One swung his rifle and fired into the charging group. The sound of a bullet thunking into flesh was drowned out by the rising yell of men fighting back.
Felipe ran for the door and Sam followed. The guards were down with a mass of angry prisoners on top, tearing them apart. The gunfire outside continued. The awful sound of a machine gun opening fire nearby made Sam crouch, but he kept running behind Felipe. When they got to the door, a rifle was thrust into Felipe’s hand. He checked the weapon like he’d done it before and crouched beside the open doorway.
It was sunset, the day darkening quickly. Felipe moved to the opening and brought the rifle to his shoulder. He fired and the sharp crack made Sam flinch. Felipe chambered another round in a blink of an eye and fired again and again until the clip was expended. The machine gun stopped firing. Felipe stood and motioned the rest of the prisoners forward. Sam noticed the men nearest were brandishing the other three rifles. Their eyes sparkled with excitement. Felipe said, “Move out, I see the major.”
Sam stayed crouched but followed Felipe out the door. The rest of the prisoners filed out and spread out. Sam noticed the machine gun that normally covered the road to the barracks was pointing straight up. The crew was sprawled in various death poses, fresh blood seeping from multiple wounds.
From the city he saw shabbily dressed Filipinos armed with multiple types of rifles and sub-machine guns streaming toward them. Leading the charge was a small figure wielding a stubby burp gun. Sam realized it was the woman from the water-line. She crouched, aimed and fired off a short burst. Sam saw her target, a fleeing soldier, throw up his hands and fall face first into a rock pile.
Felipe called out and the woman motioned her fighters to continue forward. She veered toward the group of prisoners. Felipe pulled up short and snapped off a quick salute. “Major Cruz, it worked perfectly. Just as you said it would.”
She nodded and gave a quick smile. Sam was mesmerized by the woman who’d taught him English. He’d never thought of her as more than a diminutive school teacher, but now he saw her in a brand-new light. She was beautiful and deadly. She noticed Sam staring. “Good to see you, Sam.” She pointed behind her. “The weapons are forty meters that way. Gather weapons and ammo and join the fight.” There was firing all around them, mostly from Filipinos. “The enemy are running, but they’ll regroup. We must push them out of the city.” Felipe nodded and she gripped his shoulder and pushed. “Go.”
Felipe nodded and waved the prisoners to follow. Sam watched Major Cruz trot to catch up to her troops. She moved like a graceful tiger. He cringed when a bullet whizzed over his head. He crouched and followed the group. The light of day was gone, but the area was dimly lit by fires from burning Japanese vehicles. He jogged past a fiercely burning jeep with a charred soldier still gripping the steering wheel. He could smell burnt flesh and it turned his stomach.
They approached a two-story building. There was a Filipino standing beside the doorway motioning them. Felipe ran to him and they embraced. Sam was behind him. The man said, “It’s good to see you my old friend. There’s no time to waste.” He pointed inside the lit room. “You’ll find what you need inside.”
Felipe gripped his shoulder and nodded. He entered the room with Sam close behind. His eyes lit up when he saw the room was filled with an arsenal of weapons. They were propped along the far wall and arranged in order. The left side was rifles. There was everything from Springfields to shiny new M1 Carbines. The next bunch was small sub-machine guns, including Tommy guns, which Sam recognized from watching American gangster movies. The heavier BARs were the final weapon.
There were three Filipino fighters inside handing them out. Felipe stepped forward and took a Thompson. He hefted it and smiled. He checked the action, then scooped up a magazine, checked it and slid it in. He pulled the priming handle and put the stock to his shoulder and looked down the sights. Satisfied, he slung it over his shoulder and scooped up a satchel filled with more magazines. He slung that over his other shoulder.
Sam stared at the arsenal. The other prisoners were grabbing weapons like they knew what they were doing. They were disappearing quickly. Felipe noticed his inaction and reached for an M1 Carbine. He stepped forward and handed the light weapon to Sam. “Listen carefully. This is the safety. When it’s on,” he pushed it and it went from black to red, “it’s ready to fire. When it’s black,” he pushed it the opposite way, “it’s on safety and
won’t fire. Keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire. You don’t want to shoot someone in the back on accident while your running down the street. Got it?” Sam nodded. He picked up a magazine and held it up. “This is your ammo. You’ve got twenty rounds. Put it in like this.” He pushed it into the bottom of the weapon and it clicked into place. “Then you pull this back.” He turned the weapon so Sam could see the top. “That’s the breech. See how the bullet is propped there? It’ll slide in and be ready to fire when you release this.” He released the handle and it snapped into place. He handed the loaded M1 to Sam. “Safety off, aim and shoot. Got it?”
Sam swallowed and nodded. He held the weapon. It was light but felt good in his hands. He looked at the stack of Thompsons. Felipe shook his head. “You’re not ready for one of those. They’ve got more punching power, but you won’t be able to hit anything until you’ve practiced with it.” He pointed to the M1. “You’ll be better off with this.” Sam nodded and took the offered satchel of spare magazines.
The lesson over, Felipe looked around the room. The prisoners were all armed. Their emaciated bodies looked small holding the deadly weapons, but their eyes burned with ferocious light. Felipe yelled, “let’s go!”
They streamed out of the building and into the night. Sam’s eyes darted around, wondering what to do. What would he do if he saw a Japanese soldier? He thought of his grandmother and his sister and knew exactly what he’d do. The thought passed, what if I see Berto? The answer wasn’t as clear. Perhaps he was already dead. He hoped so.
They jogged back the way they’d come. There was firing everywhere. Small firefights starting with intense, constant fire and occasional explosions, and ending with sporadic shots. Sam didn’t know what it meant. He only knew he wanted to fight.
The group of prisoners came up behind a line of Filipinos stacked up along the side of a house with their backs against the wall. The roof was smoldering and was putting off a lot of smoke. Felipe crouched near the corner and addressed the Filipino at the corner. “What’s going on?”
The fighter gestured with his head. “There’s a machine gun in the middle of the road. We need to get behind them.”
Felipe nodded and licked his lips. “We’ll move through the houses. I know this neighborhood. You keep them occupied.”
The fighter nodded. “They know we’re here.” As if to punctuate his words the machine gun fired and tracer bullets streaked down the street and tore up the walls and road. The sound terrified Sam. It sounded like a ripsaw.
Felipe moved to the center of the block and kicked in a door. Sam was beside him. He was pushed to the side as three fighters moved into the house with their weapons ready. There was no firing. Sam followed Felipe inside. The building seemed to be abandoned. They moved through it quickly and found the back door. Felipe said. “There’s an alley. I’ll lead.” He opened the door and poked his head out. “It’s clear.” He hustled out the door and the others followed. Sam was the fourth man out.
The fighters moved to another alley which went off at a ninety-degree angle. It would take them the direction they wanted to go. Shooting erupted from the street, quickly answered by the Japanese machine gun nest. The other fighters were keeping them occupied.
Felipe crouched at the corner of the alley and peered around the corner. It was dark. He couldn’t see any Japanese, but there was so much debris littering the area, he wouldn’t be able to distinguish soldiers using it for cover. He looked at the low rooftops. It looked clear. He motioned men forward. “Use the cover.”
The fighters moved into the alley. Sam was near the front. As he rounded the corner his eyes darted in every direction, looking for danger. There were too many hiding spots. If the Japanese were there he wouldn’t know it until it was too late.
He ran in a crouch keeping his eyes looking down the alley. He saw a pile of debris off to his right and he angled for it. There was a sudden flash from the end of the alley. He flinched as a bullet smacked into the man in front of him. He stood paralyzed as the man stumbled and fell. More flashes, and bullets were snapping past his ear like angry hornets. The sound of gunfire in the tight alley added to the chaos. He heard Felipe yell, “get down!”
His voice cut through Sam’s fear and he leaped for the debris pile. The pile was closer than he’d thought and he slammed into the wall it was stacked against. His face ground into the wall and pain lanced through him. He curled into a ball as bullets smacked into the walls and ricocheted off the pile. He whimpered and held his weapon tight to his body, as if it could offer him deliverance.
There were flashes from the alley he’d just left. The fighters were returning fire. It was quickly answered by more fire from the Japanese. He heard Felipe yelling. “Return fire, return fire!” He didn’t know if he was talking to him or not, but he had to do something. He took a deep breath and knew he was about to die. He forced his body into action. He had to help his friends. He did a mental countdown, one, two, three. He stood and aimed the carbine down the alley. He pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He pulled harder, still nothing. The realization hit him as bullets thunked into the debris, the safety.
He pushed the button and pulled the trigger. The M1 fired as quickly as he pulled the trigger. He kept firing until he felt something bite him in the cheek. The pain seared through him and he dropped to the ground clutching his cheek. His hand came away sticky and wet.
He thought he was dying. He could feel blood flowing down his neck. Something crashed into the space beside him and he grasped for the carbine. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you hit?” It was the familiar voice of Felipe. Sam nodded, afraid to test if his mouth still worked. “Answer me.”
Sam muttered, “Yes.” When he knew his jaw still worked he raised his voice, “In the face, I think.”
There was a flurry of firing as Filipinos raced past the debris pile and fired down the alley. The volume of fire forced the Japanese to take cover and the Filipinos advanced steadily. Sam tried to get up and join them, but Felipe pushed him down and in the dim light, inspected his face. It only took a couple seconds before he said, “You’re fine. The bullet grazed your cheek. It’s bleeding a lot, but you’re fine.” He yelled, “Juan, bandage.”
Another fighter slid in beside them and reached into a satchel hanging around his neck. He pulled out a strip of cloth. Felipe squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “He’ll take care of you. Then get back in the fight. We’re going to need everyone tonight.” Sam nodded and Felipe stood and ran down the alley toward the fighting.
Juan handed Sam the bandage. “Hold this tight against your wound until the bleeding stops. I can’t secure it for you.” Sam took the bandage and pushed it against his cheek. It sent pain through his jaw but he forced himself not to show weakness. He felt his body start to shake. Juan looked him in the eye. “You okay?”
Sam felt shame at his weakness. He nodded. “Fine.” Juan nodded back and unslung his carbine. He stood and darted away after Felipe. Sam noticed the firing had stopped. Keeping the cloth pressed to his cheek he stood and looked down the alley. He could see running shapes. He gritted his teeth, put the bloody cloth into his ammo pouch and on shaky legs, followed.
He ran past a body sprawled in the center of the alley. It was one of the men from his work detail. The man’s back glistened with fresh blood. The sight made his wound seem trivial and he increased his speed.
At the end of the alley, Sam stopped. He was the last fighter. There were more bodies in the alley, but they were Japanese soldiers. The nearest body was only feet away. The fighters were stacked against each wall, peering around the corners. Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dead Japanese soldier’s eyes. They were glazed over, unseeing, but it seemed to Sam they were looking into his soul.
The ripping sound of a nearby machine gun brought him out of his trance. The walls of the buildings in front lit up with the muzzle flash. Sam realized they were close to the gun. He went to the center of the alley and moved past the line o
f fighters. He got to the corner and saw Felipe. He crouched beside him. Felipe grinned and pointed to the right. When the machine gun stopped he said, “They’re set up in the intersection. We’ll come around the corner and kill them.” He looked at the men. “Check your ammo.” Sam looked at his weapon. His face flushed as he realized he had no idea how to change the magazine. Felipe said, “Ready?”
There were nods and grunts throughout the group. Sam was too embarrassed to admit he wasn’t ready and gave a quick nod. How many shots did I fire? He thought he must be close to running out. Felipe stood. “We’ll attack the next time they fire.” There were nods up and down the line.
They didn’t have long to wait. The machine gun crew opened up, the walls lit up with muzzle flashes. The fighters rushed around the corner. Sam was beside Felipe. When he entered the street, he could see the sandbags protecting the machine gun crew. The crew didn’t notice the horde of fighters rushing from the side, but Sam saw movement to the left. It was a Japanese soldier bringing his rifle to his shoulder. Sam crouched, aimed, pushed the safety off and pulled the trigger. He pulled the trigger repeatedly and watched the soldier lurch and twitch as his bullets found their mark. As the soldier crumpled and fell, Sam continued pulling the trigger but the Carbine had stopped firing. The rush of killing the soldier quickly vanished as he realized he didn’t know how to reload.
The rest of the fighters were upon the machine gun crew. Sam watched as the Japanese soldiers were shredded with concentrated fire. Sam trotted up to the soldier he’d killed. He looked young. The expanding pool of blood threatened to flow over his sandals and he stepped back. I killed a man. Sam took stock of his feelings. He felt satisfaction. He’d done something to avenge his Lola and his sister, Yelina.