The 164th Regiment Series Boxset

by Chris Glatte

  When they got to the end of the tunnel the line of soldiers stopped and Lt. Sato forced the Makipili, Berto forward. He pointed at the hatch which was at the end of a short set of stairs, hacked into the dirt. Sato kept his pistol aimed at the back of the swarthy Filipino, who’s machete was out and ready. Berto went to the top step and had to crouch. He looked back at Lt. Sato who nodded and aimed his pistol at him. He nodded back.

  Berto grasped the hatch handle and pushed. It gave way. Bright daylight streamed through, making him squint. He eased his head out and looked around. The jungle was gleaming green and shiny. He took a deep breath; the dank air of the bunkers and tunnel were making him sick. The urge to spring out and run through the jungle was overwhelming. The Japanese would never find him, but he knew Lt. Sato was waiting for that very thing. He could almost feel the muzzle of the pistol aiming at his back. Besides, where would he go? He was a traitor to his people. If and when he was caught he’d be tortured and hanged. He’d thrown his lot onto the losing side, and it was a decision he’d have to live with. He had little doubt he’d die soon, but he still had the chance to have a say in how he died.

  He scanned the area. There were no GIs visible, but he could hear fighting in the bunkers. He wondered how his fellow makipili were faring. Probably already dead. He brought his head back below the hatch and looked in the direction of Lt. Sato. He couldn’t see him, his eyes weren’t adjusted to the low light, but he caught movement. He smiled and waved him forward.

  Lieutenant Sato kept his pistol aimed at Berto’s chest and moved up the stairs. He pushed the Filipino to the side and poked his head into the light. He blinked quickly and his eyes watered, but he didn’t see any danger. He stood and stepped out of the tunnel. He motioned for Berto to come up and he did so quickly. More soldiers popped out and spread out in a defensive ring.

  General Manjome came out near the end of the line of men. He nodded at Lt. Sato. “Have the Makipili lead us.”

  Lieutenant Sato gave a curt nod and prodded Berto. Berto sheathed his machete and moved into the jungle. He wracked his brain, trying to think of where he should lead them. He’d done lots of hunting and trekking growing up, but this was deep jungle and he wasn’t exactly sure where he was. He decided he’d lead them upwards. He’d use the natural contours of the land to get them as lost as he possibly could. Maybe he could slip away some dark night and make his way to a different island where no one knew him. He thought about living out the rest of his days as a hermit on one of the many abandoned islands that make up the Philippines. He was bound to find one he could disappear on.

  The final bunker fell by mid-morning. The GIs had suffered minimal casualties, unlike the day before. Now, jubilant GIs and Filipinos sifted through the smoldering remains of the bunker system.

  Platoon Sergeant Carver sat on top of a bunker with his legs dangling over the side and took a long pull off his canteen. Sergeant O’Connor asked, “They find that Jap general’s body yet?”

  Carver screwed the lid on the canteen and shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. He’s probably part of all those burned bodies. No way to identify him.”

  O’Connor shook his head. “Even when those Japs had no chance of escape, I mean none, they still wouldn’t surrender.”

  Carver nodded and pulled out a stogie. He bit off the end and jammed it into his mouth. He didn’t light it but savored the dark taste on his tongue. “You’ve been fighting ‘em long enough to know better’n that. Honor, country … all that bullshit.”

  “Yeah, I know. It just seems like we’re rolling through ‘em now. Thought maybe they’d realize they’ve got no chance and start acting like normal human beings.” He spit off the side, “Save us all a lot of trouble.”

  “If they fight this hard here, imagine what it’ll be like when we’re in downtown Tokyo? It won’t just be the soldiers, we’ll have to kill every man woman and child able to hold a pitchfork.”

  O’Connor took off his helmet and rubbed his close cropped, red hair. “Ain’t that the truth? Make everything we’ve done up till now seem like a fairy tale.”

  Private Perkins burst from the bunker door off to the right and looked frantically in both directions.

  Carver called down to him. “Looking for me, son?”

  Perkins looked up and shielded his eyes. Relief flooded his face. “Lieutenant Swan and Captain Flannigan want you inside right away. They’ve found something.”

  Carver got to his feet. “Tell ‘em we’re on our way.” O’Connor looked up at him. “You may as well come too.”

  Minutes later they were on the bottom floor of the bunker they’d taken last. There were still Japanese bodies in various death poses. They’d been pushed to the corners awaiting removal. The smell of death and decomposition was as familiar to the GIs as the daily rain showers, but it still made their nostrils flare in protest.

  Lieutenant Swan and Captain Flannigan were standing around a group of Filipino fighters. O’Connor recognized Major Cruz and couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He’d tried to find her after the fighting ended but was told she was off in the jungle. Seeing her safe brought an involuntary smile. The boy, Sam was at her side.

  Carver and O’Connor stepped into the circle. “Ah, there you are,” stated Captain Flannigan, as if they were school kids up to no good.

  Carver took the stogie out of his mouth. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”

  Flannigan pointed. “The natives found a tunnel. It’s got signs of recent heavy use. It leads out into the jungle and is most likely General Manjome’s escape route.”

  O’Connor stood beside Major Cruz. It was all he could do not to reach out and take her in his arms. The urge was overwhelming, but he settled for taking in her subtle scent. She smiled up at him and moved slightly closer.

  Carver asked, “How many men you figure?”

  Lieutenant Swan answered. “The Japs lost most of their men in the attack. Estimates are almost two thousand dead. We took a few prisoners, but only because they were wounded or knocked out. We figure there’s at least a hundred that slipped out, probably led by General Manjome.”

  Carver nodded. “Let ‘em rot in the jungle. They won’t last long out there without food.”

  Captain Flannigan braced and put his fists. “We didn’t bring you down here for your opinion, Sergeant. I want you and Swan to lead a platoon in pursuit.”

  Carver couldn’t believe his ears. His men had fought the previous day taking massive casualties, then marched all night, attacked and destroyed the bunkers and now Flannigan wanted to send them out again. His men needed rest. He looked at Lieutenant Swan for help, but he was tight lipped.

  Carver was about to put his military career at risk by questioning this jackass when Major Cruz stepped forward. “Captain, I will lead the pursuit mission.” The silence hung in the dank air like a dark fog. Captain Flannigan’s face went beet red as he thought about the chain of command. She was a Major and outranked him, but she was a Filipino under Colonel Cushing. Was she a part of the chain of command? Did she have a right to give him an order? Did a woman have a right to tell him what to do? She saw the conflict in his eyes and didn’t wait for him to work it out. “Sam, get the platoon organized. We set out immediately.”

  Sam snapped off a quick salute and flashed a dazzling smile at Carver and O’Connor, then took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time. O’Connor cringed at what was happening but was also proud of the way the major handled the situation. Flannigan still looked confused and about to explode, but kept his mouth shut. Carver couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Flannigan noticed. “Carver, you and your men are on clean-up. I want these Jap bodies out of here asap.” He spun away and marched up the stairs

  Carver put the stogie back in his mouth and muttered, “Yes, sir.”

  Lieutenant Swan looked apologetic. His face was soot and dirt covered and Carver thought he saw spatters of blood too. He’d fought beside him all morning. He’d led the men from the front and fought
like a tiger. “I tried to talk sense into him before you got here, but he was adamant about sending the platoon.”

  Carver nodded. “Figured as much.” He turned to Major Cruz. “Think you probably saved me from a court-martial, ma’am, thank you.”

  She smiled. She was short, but her presence made her seem much taller. “Doesn’t make sense to send tired troops. My soldiers are well rested and know the jungle. We’ll take our revenge on the general. He ruled with an iron fist, and we deserve to end his life.”

  The sound of many feet clanging down the stairs signaled the arrival of the Filipino platoon. They filled the space, making it cramped. The sweat of many bodies mixed with the putrid smell of death gave the air a tangy tinge that could almost be tasted.

  Major Cruz looked up at Sergeant O’Connor who stared into her eyes. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to scoop her up and take her to the fresh air outside and make love to her but that was impossible. “I’ll be back,” she said. Her eyes left his and turned hard. She looked around at her soldiers, they were ready to follow her anywhere.

  Without a look back she ducked into the dim tunnel and disappeared, followed by the rest of her platoon. When they’d all gone, O’Connor, Carver and Swan were left alone. The silence was heavy between them. Confusion flooded O’Connor as he realized he was in some strange new world where the woman went off to war while he remained behind.

  Carver watched O’Connor’s reaction and thought he saw something there. He shook his head and muttered to himself, “Well I’ll be damned.”

  The trail was easy to follow. The Japanese made no efforts to cover their tracks. The Filipino platoon trotted along the path moving deeper and deeper into the jungle. The further they went the more chance they’d run into an ambush, at least that was what Felipe told Sam. The trail was relatively straight, leading toward the mountains.

  Sam wondered who was leading the Japanese. Was it his brother, Berto? He’d looked for him amongst the bodies in the final bunker. He’d recognized a few of the shredded makapili, but Berto wasn’t one of them. He didn’t know quite how he’d feel if he found him amongst the dead. He wanted revenge, wanted him to pay for killing Lola and enslaving their sister, but he was also his brother and the final member of his family. Can I kill him if the opportunity arises? He had no idea, but he thought he might soon find out. He had a strong feeling that his older brother was still alive and guiding the Japanese.

  Felipe stayed close to Sam as they followed the trail. He had his rifle slung over his shoulder. They were near the middle of the platoon. “Soon we will find the Japanese and destroy them. Then we’ll have our island and our freedom back.”

  Sam furrowed his brow. “It seems like the Japanese have always been here.”

  Felipe nodded. “Yes, I forget how young you are. You were maybe ten? Eleven?” Sam shrugged, not liking the question. “Well, it doesn’t matter. We will have to rebuild our country. Men like you and me will be responsible for doing so.”

  Sam gestured forward. “And will women like Major Cruz have a say?”

  Felipe shrugged. “She and many more like her are heroes. I think there is always a place for heroes.”

  “And what of my sister?” He looked at his feet, then sideways at Felipe when he didn’t answer right away.

  Felipe looked down too. “If she’s still alive, she will have a harder path. She’ll be looked at as a collaborator.”

  Sam faced Felipe in a whirl and puffed his chest out. He had to remember to keep his voice down. “She’s no collaborator. She was kidnapped and anything she’s done she was forced to do.”

  Felipe nodded but kept his eyes forward. “It might be better if she died. Then she’d be considered no less than the major.”

  “She’ll be considered a traitor if she survives? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  Felipe put up his hands, “I’m only saying she’ll have a hard path.”

  “I pray every day she’s alive. When I find her, I will not allow her to be mistreated. I failed her once, I won’t a second time.”

  The trail angled into a canyon and Sam increased his pace, leaving Felipe behind. The thought of his sister being considered a Japanese collaborator, put into the same class as his brother, made him seethe. He closed his eyes hard trying to picture Yelina’s face, but he saw her painted like a whore, a geisha, he thought they were called. He said a silent prayer and moved up behind Major Cruz. He wanted to ask her what she thought her sister’s fate would be if he found her.

  He was trying to get the nerve to speak to her when the soldiers in front suddenly crouched and the entire column stopped. Sam brought his carbine off his shoulder and scanned the surrounding jungle. They were in a creek-bed. There was a trickling flow of clear water moving through moss covered rocks and mud. Sam looked at the sloped ridges to either side. If the Japanese had doubled back and were above them, it wouldn’t go well.

  The scouts thought the same thing and Sam could hear them whispering to Major Cruz and pointing to the surrounding terrain. She nodded and looked back at Sam. She hadn’t noticed him and gave him a quick smile. She signaled that he should move to the ridge to the right. He nodded and started climbing the gentle slope. Most of the platoon moved with him, but some moved up the left ridge too. The scouts and Major Cruz stayed in the creek-bed.

  Sam realized he was the point-man on the right ridge. He looked behind and saw the next Filipino fighter ten meters away. Sam waited until he saw Major Cruz wave her hand forward. With his carbine at the ready he moved forward.

  He’d grown up mostly in the city, but his father loved to hike and he’d spent many happy days at his side listening to him talk about various plants and animals they came across. This was entirely different though. Back then, the jungle had seemed a magical place, something he could leave behind and know was there for his pleasure. Now, the magic was gone, or had been replaced with a dark magic, full of danger and death.

  He concentrated on trying to walk quietly. He remembered his father taking slow, careful footsteps when trying to get close to a deer. He tried to mimic that now, but he felt clumsy. Soon he was sweating more heavily than normal. The extra effort trying to stay quiet and maintaining concentration was taking its toll. He shook his head and felt drops of sweat fly off his nose and chin. He glanced behind and saw the fighter walking as if on a Sunday stroll. How did I get myself into this?

  He gritted his teeth and saw the diminutive form of Major Cruz moving along the creek-bed. She moved effortlessly from boulder to boulder. She made it look easy and he wondered if she grew up hunting. He didn’t remember her mentioning it when she taught him English. Of course, if someone told him his English teacher would one day be a great military hero, he would have laughed them out of the room.

  He was brought out of his musings abruptly. He froze in place and concentrated on the jungle. He’d heard something, something out of place, but what was it? He played the noise back. Was it metal scraping metal? He squinted and focused every sense. Then he saw it, the outline of a barrel protruding from a thick copse of bushes. It wasn’t aimed at him, but into the canyon, tracking Major Cruz’s path. There wasn’t time for a warning, he put his carbine to his shoulder, released the safety and pulled the trigger at the same instant the barrel in the bushes fired. The sharp crack sounded out of place in the serene jungle landscape. There was a pause as the Filipinos first froze, then found cover.

  Sam ran forward. The muzzle had vanished. He had his carbine leveled at the spot. He sensed movement further along the ridge. He crouched behind a rock and aimed. He fired at the movement. There were suddenly shapes and movement everywhere he looked. He pulled the trigger until his magazine was empty. He dropped behind cover just as the crashing of many rifles opened fire. Bullets whizzed and ricocheted off the rock. Sam cowered, making himself as small a target as possible. The jungle around him shredded with bullets. The air seemed alive with steel.

  He fumbled to insert another magazine, finally slamming
it home and cycling a round into the chamber. He heard the sound of more rifles opening up, his comrades joining the fight. The volume of bullets hitting the rock he crouched behind, lessened. He peaked over the top and fired at movement and muzzle flashes then dropped back to cover.

  There was a heavy volume of fire coming from behind him. His Filipino comrades were flooding the area with lethal fire. The Japanese firing subsided and soon the only sound was the crashing and popping of friendly fire.

  Sam waited until he saw his comrades advancing past him, then moved forward to a thick palm and lay at the base. He struggled to calm his breathing and he wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes. He searched for more targets but couldn’t see any. The firing from the other Filipinos died down and soon the silence of the sweltering jungle returned like an old familiar blanket.

  Sam could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. He heard yelling and realized they were giving the all clear. Keeping his weapon ready, he stood on shaky legs. Sam went to the area where he’d seen the muzzle. He nearly stepped on the body tucked into the thick bush. The Japanese soldier was on his back, his right leg tucked unnaturally beneath him. His helmet was still firmly attached and his blank eyes stared. He had dark red stains along his left side. The long Arisaka rifle that had given him away, was on the ground pointing down the canyon.

  Felipe was beside him. He slapped his back and smiled. “Good job, soldier. You saved many men.” He looked down the canyon and saw Major Cruz. “Oh no, the major’s hit.”

  Sam followed his gaze. There was a cluster of men surrounding her. They were working frantically, applying bandages and pressure to a seeping wound. “I failed. I saw them too late. The major. How bad is it?”

  Felipe shook his head. “You did everything you could.” He pointed at him. “Stay here and watch the ridge. I’ll see how she’s doing.”

  86

  With the bunkers secure, the GIs were sent back to Cebu City for a well-earned period of rest and relaxation. Platoon Sergeant Carver was looking for a place to rack out for a few hours. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been more tired. He couldn’t seem to stop tripping and bumping into things. He needed to sleep. He found a cot in a secluded corner of an open-air tent. He sat and unbuckled his boots. He barely had the strength to pull them off. He rubbed his aching feet and was about to lay down and check out for the rest of the day and possibly the night, when Private Perkins trotted in. He had a satchel over his shoulder. His eyes lit up when he saw Carver. “Glad I found you, Sarge.”