by Len Levinson
He walked in a crouch, holding his M 1 rifle at port arms, and his eyes roved back and forth over the jungle, darting to the treetops to detect the possible movements of snipers while his ears listened for unusual sounds. Pfc. Jimmy O’Rourke wanted to do a good job, because that’s what leading roles called for. The hero of a movie was the most incredible person in the movie. He always did the right thing and never did the wrong thing.
Suddenly he heard a sound in the distance and stopped suddenly. The sound had been faint, and he’d barely detected it above the ordinary sounds of the jungle, but he’d heard it: a metallic sound like the ones commonly heard in bivouacs where there was so much military equipment lying around. It could be somebody closing the bolt of a rifle, or a mortar being stacked on top of another mortar, or maybe a shell being loaded into the chamber of a howitzer.
Jimmy O’Rourke dropped to one knee. He turned around and saw the others catching up with him, moving cautiously because they knew he’d seen or heard something. Lieutenant Breckenridge knelt beside him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I heard something out there.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly, but it wasn’t a natural jungle sound. It was more like a rifle or something like that.”
“How close?”
“Not very close.”
“Tell me in yards.”
“A few hundred yards.”
Lieutenant Breckenridge wondered what to do next. He’d thought that if he followed that trail far enough, he might get back to his own lines. For all he knew, the sound Jimmy O’Rourke heard had come from the American lines, but it might have come from Japs also. Somebody would have to go forward to check it out, but who?
Lieutenant Breckenridge didn’t feel as though he could rely on Jimmy O’Rourke or anybody he had with him. There was only one person he could rely upon, and that was himself.
“I’m going ahead to see what’s there,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said. “You guys hide in the bushes around here and be quiet. If I don’t come back in an hour, it’ll mean the Japs got me and you’re on your own. Everybody understand that?”
Nobody said anything. Lieutenant Breckenridge assumed they understood.
“Okay, get in the bushes,” he said. “Stay together, but keep your mouths shut.”
The men moved into the bushes on the right side of the road, and Lieutenant Breckenridge stepped forward, setting his feet down on the ground softly. He didn’t want to make any unnecessary sound, because the area might be infested with Japs. He held his Thompson submachine gun in both his hands and searched the trail ahead for enemy soldiers. Minutes passed, and the distance increased between him and his men. Soon he was on his own, moving silently over the muddy trail, his eyes bouncing around in their sockets, his ears straining for the sounds that Jimmy O’Rourke had reported.
Then he heard something that sounded like a piece of wood being struck against the trunk of a tree, and he stopped, moving his head from side to side, trying to home in on the noise. The jungle became silent again, so he advanced. After several paces he heard another sound, this one metallic, like the hatch on the turret of a tank being battened down.
The sounds were in the distance, a few hundred yards away, as Jimmy O’Rourke had indicated. It was clear that a bivouac was there, but was it American or Japanese? Lieutenant Breckenridge wished he could hear voices, because that would give him the answer.
The only thing to do was get closer so he could hear or see better. He’d have to be careful, because the bivouac would have stationary guards and he’d be on the move. They’d most likely see him before he saw them. Maybe I’d better get off the road and go the rest of the way in the jungle, he thought.
He realized it would take him a long time to reach the bivouac via the jungle, and he’d make more noise that way. Maybe the best thing to do would be to hide in the woods with his men and wait to see what might happen. If he was in Jap territory, the American army would take it over sooner or later, and if he was in American territory, all he had to do was wait until they saw some other GIs.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do, he thought. He turned around and walked back down the road to where his men were, then cut into the jungle. He found them lying around in the weeds.
“See anything?” asked Jimmy O’Rourke.
Lieutenant Breckenridge knelt down. “No, but I heard a few things. There’s a bivouac up ahead, but I don’t know if it’s ours or the Japs’. If it’s the Japs’, we’ll have to stay clear of them. I think we’d better hide out for a while. Sooner or later our people will come this way, and then we’ll be okay. I think we’d better move deeper into the jungle, and then I’ll look around for a safe place. Let’s go.”
Just then, as the last word passed his lips, he heard something.
“Wait a minute,” he whispered.
Silently he lay on his stomach. The sound came from the trail and consisted of footsteps. A fairly substantial group of people was moving on the trail from the bivouac up ahead toward the Driniumor. All the GIs could hear it, and they flattened out on the ground.
“I’m going to see whether they’re ours or theirs,” Lieutenant Breckenridge whispered. “Don’t make a sound while I’m gone.”
Lieutenant Breckenridge crept through the underbrush, heading toward the road. He wanted to get close enough so that he could see who was coming, but not so close that they’d see him. Stopping, he parted some leaves with his fingers and looked at the road. The footsteps drew closer. He hoped American GIs would come into view. Then he and his men would be safe. They’d be able to smoke cigarettes and have a decent meal. The tension and fear would be over. Ordinarily, Lieutenant Breckenridge wasn’t a religious man, but he gritted his teeth and prayed that the soldiers would be American.
The footsteps became closer. Lieutenant Breckenridge peered to the right and saw figures moving in a single file on the road. It was too dark to see what kind of uniforms they wore. He held the leaves away from his line of vision and strained his eyes. The soldiers trudged toward him, and then he noticed the funny peaked caps and leggings on the soldiers. His heart sank as he realized they were Japanese. Now he knew for sure that he was behind enemy lines.
The Japanese soldiers came abreast of him and walked by. He was tempted to throw a hand grenade at them, but then he’d have every Jap in the vicinity chasing after him. He moved the leaves in front of his face so the Japanese soldiers wouldn’t notice him lying there. The Japanese soldiers passed him; he counted twenty of them. He waited until their footsteps receded into the distance, then turned around and crawled back to his men.
“I guess you know by now that they were Japs,” he said to them, “because if they weren’t Japs, I would’ve said something to them. Okay, now we know for sure where we are and what we’ve got to do. Let’s move deeper into the jungle and find a good place to hide.”
•••
It was a half hour later, and Lieutenant Breckenridge was alone in the jungle, looking for a permanent place for him and his men to set up camp. He’d left them behind in a little clearing a safe distance from the trail, and he hoped they wouldn’t get into any trouble. He knew that was asking for a lot, because they were a nasty, quarrelsome bunch. They couldn’t do anything right.
Lieutenant Breckenridge crept through the jungle, and suddenly it brightened. The half-moon had come out again. Lieutenant Breckenridge looked up and saw the iridescent semicircle floating in the sky, wisps of clouds blown past its surface by the wind.
It was a beautiful sight, and it forced Lieutenant Breckenridge to pause. The night sky was like heaven, and the earth like hell. Lieutenant Breckenridge couldn’t suppress the wish that he could live up there in the sky somehow instead of in the New Guinea jungle, which was full of bugs, Japs, snakes, and dozens of terrible tropical diseases.
He lowered his gaze and saw a hill not far away. He hadn’t noticed it in the darkness, but now he could see it quite well in the moonl
ight. It was rocky and lined with ridges, a good place to hole up. There might even be a cave up there. It wasn’t too high and could be scaled easily. He thought he’d check it out since it was so close.
He pushed through bushes and vines. His left leg sank into muck up to his knee and made him fall forward, nearly breaking his leg, the same leg that had been wounded earlier. He pulled his leg out and resumed his trek toward the hill. The moon became covered by clouds again, and he walked into a huge spider web that covered his face. The spider bit him on the forehead, and he squashed the spider with the palm of his hand. Then he picked the web off his eyebrows and lips, but it fragmented and he didn’t want to take the time necessary to get all of it off his face.
He ducked underneath a branch and kept going. Finally he reached the base of the hill and climbed up its side. It was steep, and stretches of smooth rock made progress difficult. He had to search for toeholds and handholds, ascending a few feet at a time. He reached a ridge and rested for a few moments while looking down. The more he thought about it, the more he thought the hill would be a good place for him and his men to hide. It would be easy to defend, and he couldn’t imagine why Japs would ever want to climb it in the first place. The Japs would never know that he and his men were on top of it.
Having caught his breath, he continued to climb. He skinned his knees and bruised his fingers as he advanced up the side of the hill. Near the summit he came to another ridge and an opening that looked like the mouth of a cave. He tiptoed toward the cave and saw that the opening was about five feet tall and four feet wide. He was tempted to go inside, but thought he should look at the top of the hill first.
He climbed around the side of the cave and made his way to the top of the hill. It was a plateau covered with boulders, and a few hardy trees grew out of cracks in the rock. Lieutenant Breckenridge was pleased. It was an excellent place to hide out, and when the sun came up, the visibility should be good. He could send Jimmy O’Rourke up one of the trees to look around. Perhaps Jimmy O’Rourke could see where the Japs weren’t, so all of them could return to their own lines.
Lieutenant Breckenridge decided to go back and see what that cave was like. He slid down the side of the hill and landed on the ridge next to the cave. Unslinging his submachine gun, he rammed a round in the chamber, because he didn’t know what kind of toothed creature might be living in the cave. He wished he had a flashlight to shine inside, but his only source of light was his trusty old Zippo cigarette lighter.
He ducked his head and stepped inside the cave. It smelled musty and old, but there was also a peculiar additional odor like raw wood alcohol or medicine. He thought that maybe a peculiar chemical reaction inside the cave was causing the odor—maybe a small mineral spring or decaying limestone.
Something moved inside the cave and he stopped suddenly, dropping down to one knee. Was it a rat back there or a fucking Jap? Lieutenant Breckenridge wanted to make sure. Holding his submachine gun in his hands, he walked in a crouch to the side of the cave and stood, pressing his back against the wall. He took out his Zippo, flicked off the top part of the case, and spun the wheel. Sparks erupted and then the wick caught flame. Shadows danced against the walls of the cave, and then he saw something big move deeper inside the cave.
He ducked down just as a bullet was fired. He saw the muzzle blast, and the bullet struck the rock where his head had been.
Then a voice came to him from inside the cave. “Hold your fire!” it said, and Lieutenant Breckenridge’s hair stood on end, because it was female voice! “He’s one of ours!” the voice added.
Lieutenant Breckenridge blinked. “Who the hell’s back there?” he shouted, holding his submachine gun ready.
“American nurses!”
“Well, I'll be damned,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said.
A kerosene lantern was lit back in the cave, and Lieutenant Breckenridge saw four figures in Army fatigues rise from behind boulders and crags. They advanced toward Lieutenant Breckenridge, one of them carrying the kerosene lantern, and he walked toward them.
The nurse carrying the lantern had short, curly brown hair and a chubby figure. She was in her late thirties at least. The nurse to her left was tall and skinny, with pinched features and a long pointy nose. The nurse to the right of the one with a lantern was petite and Italian-looking, sort of cute. The other nurse had short straight blond hair and looked like a washed-out ex-showgirl.
“You’re lucky we didn’t shoot you,” said the nurse with the lantern.
“You’re lucky I didn’t throw a hand grenade,” Lieutenant Breckenridge replied. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We got ourselves surrounded when the Japs took over this area, and we managed to find this place to hide in. What are you doing here?”
“Some of my men and I got surrounded also, and we’re trying to find our way back to our lines.”
“Well,” said the nurse with the lantern, “this area is crawling with Japs. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through.”
“Maybe my men and I’ll have to hide up here with you.” He grinned. “By the way, I’m Lieutenant Dale Breckenridge from the Twenty-third Regiment.”
“I’m Captain Doris Steams from the Eighty-first Division Medical Headquarters, and this is Lieutenant McCaffrey, Lieutenant Jones, and Lieutenant Pagano.”
“Hi,” said Lieutenant Breckenridge.
The women said hello. Lieutenant Breckenridge looked them over and couldn’t help making a few sexual judgments, despite the dilemma all of them were in. Captain Stearns and Lieutenant Jones were pooches, but Lieutenant Pagano and Lieutenant McCaffrey, the one who looked like a faded ex-showgirl, weren’t so bad.
“My men and I have had some bad scrapes,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said, snapping back into his official mode. “In fact, I’ve only got eight men left out of a platoon that numbered forty men two days ago, and I’ve also picked up a few stragglers from other units along the way. We need someplace to hide out, and this looks like a good place. We also could use some medical attention.”
Lieutenant McCaffrey, the blonde who looked like a faded ex-showgirl, stared at Lieutenant Breckenridge’s leg. “That bandage should be changed.”
“You can change it when I return with the others. I hope you’ve got medicine here.”
“We do,” said Captain Stearns, “and we’ve got food and water too. Our headquarters was near here.”
“I’ll be right back with my men. Make sure you don’t bring that lantern too close to the mouth of the cave, otherwise you’ll have every Jap in the territory climbing this hill.”
“No Japs have noticed us yet,” Captain Stearns said. “We know what to do.”
“Glad to hear that,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said. “Be back in a little while.”
Lieutenant Breckenridge turned and walked toward the mouth of the cave, stepped onto the ridge, and moved out of sight.
TEN . . .
Lieutenant Breckenridge thought he’d be real slick. He decided to sneak up on his men to see if they were sleeping without having posted a guard. Butsko used to do that all the time, with good results. He kept the men on their toes. Lieutenant Breckenridge crawled through the underbrush, approaching the place where he’d left his men. He moved slowly and carefully, because that was the only way to move silently.
Finally he reached a point where he knew his men were only a few feet away. They were quiet, and he thought that part was good. But they’d better have somebody awake. If they didn’t, he’d really get tough with them. They had to learn to take care of themselves when he wasn’t around.
He reached forward to part the leaves in front of him so he could look at his men. Holding one branch in one hand and another branch in his other hand, he pulled the foliage apart. Just then the moon came out again, illuminating the tiny clearing where he’d left his men, and Lieutenant Breckenridge saw eight gun barrels pointing at his nose.
He smiled. “Glad to see you’re all alert.”
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“You’re lucky you’re still alive,” said Shilansky.
“That’s right,” agreed Pfc. Craig Delane. “I was just about to squeeze off a round.”
Lieutenant Breckenridge pushed his way through the bushes and rose to one knee. He realized he’d just had a close call. “Okay,” he said, “I’ve just found us a good place to hide, but there’s just one problem: Somebody’s already there.”
“Japs?” asked Private Yabalonka.
“No,” replied Lieutenant Breckenridge. “Nurses.”
“Our nurses?” asked Frankie La Barbara.
“Yes, from division headquarters. They got trapped behind enemy lines like we did.”
“No shit!” said Corporal Froelich, the signalman from Headquarters Company.
“No shit,” replied Lieutenant Breckenridge.
“How many of them?” asked Frankie La Barbara.
“Four.”
Frankie La Barbara scratched his balls. “Whatta they look like?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I just wanna know.”
“You’ll find out when we get there, and when we get there, I don’t want any trouble. Keep your fucking hands off the nurses. Got it?”
“What if they wanna put their hands on us?” asked Shilansky, licking his full lips.
“Who’d want to put their hands on you?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“That kind of surprise I’m not interested in. Okay, let’s saddle up, gentlemen.”
“Holy shit!” Frankie La Barbara said excitedly. “Cunt!”
“Keep your voice down, you stupid son of a bitch,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said. “I’ll take the point, since I’m the only one who knows where we’re going. O’Rourke, you take charge of the others.”