The 164th Regiment Series Boxset

by Chris Glatte

  While the officers conversed, the offloading of men and material continued. Carver studied the town situated on the bay. It was small by comparison to US towns and built from different materials, but it looked like it wouldn’t be a bad place to live before the Japanese came. He guessed the Filipinos lived a happy existence of fishing and farming. There was no sign of the Japanese occupation and he wondered if the guerrillas had already eradicated them.

  That thought was dashed when Private Perkins approached. The short kid always reminded him of the pet ferret he’d owned when he was a kid. His squeaky voice cemented the thought. “Lieutenant Swan says the guerrillas have the Japs pinned down in the hills about three miles inland. Wants us to push forward immediately.”

  An hour later Able Company along with the 40th Division’s Charlie Company moved through the small fishing village. Every doorway was filled with smiling brown faces. Children ran up to them and marched beside them. Carver kept his eyes forward, looking for trouble. He had his Thompson slung over his right shoulder. He glanced back at Sergeant O’Connor, leading second squad. O’Connor’s face was an unreadable mask to most, but Carver could see the pain just beneath the hard surface.

  A child ran up to Carver and tugged on his pant leg. Carver ignored it and kept scanning for threats. The tug persisted and he finally looked down. The tiny face beaming back at him looked to be that of a five-year-old boy. “Git outta here, kid.” The child kept on smiling and tugging. “Where are your parents, dammit?” The boy kept tugging, not speaking, but the intent was clear. Finally, Carver shook his head and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to him. The boy took it. The bar looked huge in his tiny hand. His smile grew impossibly big. Carver thought the kid’s cheeks would burst. He shooed him away. “Now leave me alone. Get outta here.” The boy stepped away and snapped off a salute. He kept walking beside him with his hand saluting, staring at Carver. Carver ignored him, but the kid persisted and finally Carver stopped and faced him. The boy squinted up at him. Carver looked at the men streaming past. He cursed under his breath but braced and gave the kid a perfect salute. The boy’s face went serious and he dropped the salute, saying something Carver couldn’t understand. “Don’t mention it.” Carver continued walking and the boy stayed in place and watched him go, the chocolate bar melting in this hand.

  Corporal Mathews trotted up next to him. “You getting soft on us, Sarge?”

  Carver growled, “Fuck you, Corporal. Damned kid wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  Mathews smiled. “Cute kid. Glad he doesn’t have to live under the boot of the Japs anymore.”

  Carver grunted and kept walking. Mathews continued beside him. “Something on your mind?”

  Mathews stole a glance behind him. “I’m worried about Sergeant O’Connor. He’s been quiet all day. Didn’t say more’n two words the entire boat ride. Seems preoccupied with something.”

  Carver glanced back. O’Connor was staring straight ahead. “Got some bad news just before we left. He’ll be alright, just give him space.”

  Mathews nodded. “Figured it was something like that.”

  87

  Major Ingencio’s guerrillas led the two companies of GIs three miles inland along a well-used dirt road. The guerrillas walked like they were on a Sunday stroll. They weren’t worried about being attacked.

  They stopped at the base of a small hill. There was a large, well established base full of more Filipino fighters. They greeted the newcomers with smiles and backslaps. Platoon Sergeant Carver thought it felt more like a party atmosphere than a war zone.

  There were small cooking fires sending white wisps of smoke through the sparse tree canopy. The green hills beyond the camp were easily visible and the obvious signs of human activity were everywhere. Carver smacked Cpl. Mathew’s arm and pointed. “Those are Jap bunkers.” He squinted and noticed the same wispy smoke coming from the hills. “They’re occupied too.” He looked around the camp, no one seemed concerned about the Japanese forces less than a quarter mile away. Mathews nodded and shrugged his shoulders, unable to explain the odd situation. Carver continued. “Japs must be out of mortars, otherwise they’d have a field day.”

  An hour later the officers and NCOs were brought into a large central area of the camp. It was well fortified, which made Carver feel better. They sat on stumps and rickety wooden chairs.

  Soon Major Ingencio stood and addressed them. “As you can see, the Japanese sit on the high ground, not far from our position. They are completely surrounded by my forces. I have five-thousand men keeping them penned inside their small perimeter. The hill you see is the only land they hold. We figure there are five-hundred troops defending the area.” He let that sink in. “We have them completely cut off from resupply, however they have an unlimited supply of food stores, and the rains keep them supplied with water. They sit inside an intricate bunker system. The bunkers are strong and will be able to withstand a frontal assault with ease.”

  Carver looked at O’Connor and gave him a confused look. The major’s light, almost happy tone didn’t match the dire report. O’Connor shrugged back at him.

  Major Ingencio finished his briefing. “Now that you’re here, we’re ready to end the Japanese presence on the island.”

  Captain Flannigan looked confused as well. He stood and addressed the major. “Have you already tried an attack? It seems five-thousand men could overwhelm a force of five hundred beleaguered Japs, no matter their defenses.”

  Major Ingencio smiled. “We have not attacked them as it would be a waste of lives.” Captain Flannigan’s face turned beet red and he was about to explode, but Ingencio continued. “We finished wiring the hill only yesterday. We thought we’d wait for you Americans before setting it off.”

  Captain Flannigan voiced all their questions. “Wired it? What do you mean?”

  Major Ingencio gestured toward the hill. “The bunkers the Japanese sit in were built by us. For the past year, they’ve forced us to work under their horrible conditions. Many men and women died in the process.” He paused and looked down, then raised his eyes and continued. “There’s a large ammunition depot deep beneath the bunker system. As soon as we learned of it we started tunneling toward it. The entrance to that tunnel is over there.” He pointed toward the hills again. “The invaders have long since used up what was stored there. It is empty now and lays forgotten and sealed off from the bunkers above.” He looked over the group of dumbfounded GIs and smiled. “With the explosives you have brought, we can wire the depot and send the hill, along with every murdering Japanese soldier, to hell.”

  Platoon Sergeant Carver didn’t know if he believed Major Ingencio. He had no reason to doubt him, but the claim they could destroy the bunker system without exposing themselves to danger seemed like a fairy tale, and he knew fairy tales could easily turn to nightmares. So, he kept his men on task, not allowing them to become complacent, as the Filipinos seemed to be.

  The American officers weren’t taking the Major’s word at face value. They insisted on a first-hand view of the tunnel and depot. Carver assigned the task to Sergeant O’Connor.

  O’Connor was glad for the distraction. He’d been having trouble taking his mind off Major Cruz. Not knowing if she were alive or dead was agonizing. He didn’t know what to do or how to act. He was living in a nightmare. He desperately wanted to know her condition, but at the same time feared the information.

  He swapped out his M1 Carbine for a Thompson submachine gun. If the Japanese were waiting to spring a trap, he wanted the firepower. He teamed up with two swarthy and lethal looking Filipino guerrillas. They told him their names were Stuart and Donald. They waited until dusk, then left the camp and approached the sloping hill.

  O’Connor let them lead. They moved carefully once they were outside the camp. It was the first time since landing, he’d seen the natives acting like they were in a combat zone. The change from happy-go-lucky to combat ready brought O’Connor out of his stupor and h
e felt his senses become razor sharp. He didn’t simply stop worrying about Celine but tucked it away until he was out of danger. The change felt better, less complicated.

  The Filipinos moved like ghosts through the jungle, not making a sound. O’Connor had instant respect for their skills.

  A few minutes later they stopped and crouched in front of a mass of bushes. O’Connor searched their faces. The one named Stuart inched forward and slowly pulled the bushes aside. He exposed a hole leading into the ground. He flashed a smile and disappeared into the hole head first. He wiggled his hips and was soon gone. Donald stepped aside and nodded at O’Connor. He slung his Thompson and adjusted it so it was tight on his back. He got on his belly and inched toward the hole. He had broader shoulders than the Filipino and had to shimmy his way side to side. He finally squeezed through and could feel the hole opening up in front of him. He arrested his slide downward, not liking the sensation of falling into dark space. A light came on and lit up the area. He could see Stuart smiling back at him. He held a small lantern.

  O’Connor got to the end of the short entrance and squeezed his way out and onto the dirt floor. It reminded him of taking a shit, and he was the turd.

  He made room as Donald slithered through and rolled onto the floor. Stuart didn’t wait for Donald to stand but lifted the light above his head and moved down the straight tunnel.

  O’Connor pulled his Thompson off his shoulder and held it in front. They moved fast. The ground was well trod and hard as concrete. The dirt above was supported by thick chunks of palms. O’Connor tried not to think of how many tons of earth were above his head. The tunnel was relatively flat, taking them deeper into the rising hill.

  It took ten minutes before Stuart stopped and crouched. He waited for O’Connor and Donald to stop. He hung the lantern on a nearby hook. It seemed the tunnel came to an abrupt end but upon closer inspection, O’Connor could see a kind of thatch door. It covered a much smaller tunnel than the one they sat in and he wondered if he’d be able to fit through. He couldn’t see how far the little tunnel went. Stuart gave him another grin and entered the tunnel like he was diving through rings in a pool. He slithered and gyrated until his feet were the only thing still in the larger tunnel. He paused, then disappeared quickly. O’Connor slung his weapon and looked back at Donald. He gave him a smile and indicated he should enter next.

  O’Connor took a deep breath and took the lantern off the hook. He ducked down and peered into the hole. He was relieved to see it was only six feet long. He could see another opening and this one opened up onto a larger room. He hung the lantern and slithered his way through the tunnel. It took all his strength to move the six feet. When he entered the weapons depot, he was sweating profusely and breathing hard.

  He somersaulted out of the hole and lay on the ground trying to catch his breath. Stuart put his hand on his shoulder. A second later another lantern was lit and Stuart held it up to shine on the room. It was square and there were broken crates and discarded pieces of equipment strewn around. There was a large crate blocking the tunnel they’d just come through. Stuart put the lantern on top of the crate and picked something off the ground. He placed it next to the lantern. O’Connor thought it looked like an oversized cork and realized it was used to stopper up the hole they’d just come through. It looked like a part of the wall, a clever disguise.

  O’Connor watched Donald slither through. When he was back on his feet, O’Connor stepped into the center of the room. He marveled at the engineering feat. He wondered how many Filipinos had died building this room. Had there been cave-ins? He shuddered thinking of a suffocating death.

  He strode to a door on the other side of the room. It was heavy iron and when he tested it, it didn’t budge. It was locked and barricaded from the inside. He wondered about that. Do the Japs suspect our intentions? Why lock it?

  Stuart and Donald stood in the center of the room and tilted their heads. Stuart pointed to the ceiling. Tiny particles of dust danced in the flickering light as vibrations from feet in rooms above, knocked them loose. The sound was hauntingly close, and O’Connor had to fight the urge not to pull his weapon off his shoulder. He pictured the hill they were beneath. He figured it rose over four-hundred feet from the base camp, which meant the Japanese had tunneled deep. They were right above their heads clomping around in their split-toed boots.

  The thought of all that earth coming down around them made him feel uneasy. He nodded and stepped away from the door. He whispered and his voice sounded loud. “I’ve seen enough, let’s get the hell outta here.”

  Platoon Sergeant Carver watched the Japanese held hill through binoculars. It was early evening and he could see smoke from small cooking fires. Occasionally he noticed darting shapes he assumed to be Japanese soldiers. He shook his head and spoke to Lt. Swan. “Poor bastards have no idea what’s about to happen.”

  Lt. Swan took the binoculars from him and nodded. “Definitely gonna be a big blast. We’ll need to evacuate this position. We’ll move back once it’s dark.” He looked at the scratched face of his watch. “At 1900 hours.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slow. “You confident with the explosives?”

  Carver nodded. “The demo guys walked me through it. They know what they’re doing and assured me it’ll work. The hill will be a smoking crater in the morning.”

  “Almost doesn’t seem fair. I thought about bringing up surrender to the captain. You know, give them a chance before we blow it, but they’d never go for it and would probably do a suicide attack, or fake a surrender.” He shook his head. “They’re gonna have to die like rats.”

  Platoon Sergeant Carver’s mouth downturned. “You’re right. No way they’d surrender that way. Against their bullshit code.”

  Another sergeant from the demolition platoon showed up and snapped off a quick salute. “Charges are ready, sir. We’ve extended the wires well back. The plunger’s back there.” He pointed behind them. “We can blow it whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, sergeant. Captain Flannigan wants a 2200-hour detonation. Wants to be sure the Japs are all tucked in for the night.”

  A few hours later, the Filipino guerrillas and the GIs were well back from the base of the hill. The camp was abandoned, but there were still smoldering cooking fires dotted here and there. If the Japanese were observing them, it didn’t look any different from any other night.

  Captain Flannigan sat on a rickety chair beside the box-plunger, staring at his watch face. There was one minute until 2200 hours. He looked at Lt. Swan beside him. “This is gonna be something to see.”

  Swan could hear the excitement in his voice. He was like a kid about to open presents on Christmas morning. “Yes sir. Something to see.” Under his breath he murmured, “God have mercy on our souls.”

  Flannigan held up his hand like he was starting a hot-rod race. The demo sergeant crouched in front and put both hands on the plunger handle. He watched Flannigan with dull eyes. He knew what he was about to unleash on the men on the hill.

  Flannigan dropped his hand and said, “Now!” The demo sergeant tensed and pushed the plunger. It generated a satisfying charge which raced instantly through the wires, igniting the blasting caps beneath the bunker, and igniting the stack of high explosives.

  Everyone ducked and held their helmets, expecting a huge geyser of flame. Instead, there was a dull thump and a slight shaking of the ground. Carver lifted his head and looked toward the hill. In the pitch dark of night there wasn’t much to see. He could sense something happening, however. Suddenly dots of flames erupted all around the hill, like power lines falling during a wind storm. The thumping of distant explosions rolled past in concussive waves, rocking the trees and foliage.

  Captain Flannigan stood and with his balled fists on his hips asked, “Is that it? Did it work?”

  The demo sergeant nodded. “Oh yeah. It worked perfectly. I’ll bet the whole hill is collapsed in on itself.”

  “I was expecting a bigger bang.”


  The demo sergeant unhooked the wires from the box. “With that much earth above there was no way the blast was gonna penetrate all the way through, but believe me, the force went straight up and carved out the inside of that hill. There’d be nothing to keep the top from falling into the center.” He shook his head. “Those Japs that survived the initial blast were buried under tons of dirt soon after.” He pointed into the darkness where small spots of flame flickered. “Ground’s gonna be real unstable up there. Your men will need to be careful sifting through, may be some dangerous pockets.”

  88

  When it was light enough to see, the devastation was obvious. The hill was a mass of jumbled, smoldering earth. Platoon Sergeant Carver thought he’d feel good about the easy victory, but instead, dreaded the prospect of having to move through the wasteland. How many twisted and destroyed soldiers would he have to uncover?

  The Filipinos, on the other hand, were in high spirits. They danced around, slapped each other’s backs and laughed. Major Ingencio slapped Carver’s back. In broken English, he said, “What’s the matter? Would you rather attack the bunkers head-on?” Carver just shook his head. “You feel pity for them? Is that it? You pity the Japanese?”

  Carver looked the major in the eye. Major Ingencio put his hand on Carver’s shoulder. He pointed to the smoldering hill. “When the Japanese first came here, many feared them. They hid out in the hills, waiting to see what would happen. Those who stayed knew where they were, but never told. At first the Japanese did good things. They patched up leaking roofs and even rebuilt a schoolhouse. They improved the roads. After a month they gathered us in the center of town and told us they’d freed us from our Imperial masters. Told us we were free. They wouldn’t interfere with us as long as we followed their easy rules. They promised that once the war was won, we could govern ourselves. They asked us to relay their goodwill to those that fled.” He looked at his feet, remembering. “We were fooled. We brought them out of the hills.” His voice caught in his throat. “The next day we were again gathered in the center. First, they tore the women and girls away from their husbands, sons and parents. They forced us to watch as they raped them. Then they hung them. All of them. Every man, woman, and child.” Bitter tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Do not pity them. I only hope their deaths were slow and painful.”