Up until tonight, in Deke’s mind, the war was about getting even with the Japanese for Pearl Harbor—they had killed his cousin there, after all, and a whole lot of other Americans. The islands they were capturing were dots on the map, objectives leading steadily toward Japan.
For the first time, he realized that the war might be about more than winning objectives and teaching the Japs a lesson. It had finally sunk in. These weren’t just empty islands. This was someone’s home. Sure, he wanted to get back at the Japs as much as anyone. You couldn’t be from the Appalachian Mountains and not know a little something about the desire for revenge.
Revenge felt satisfying, but you were left with an empty cup. Today he had seen how to fill that cup back up. He had finally realized that they were also fighting for liberation and freedom.
It was as if the war was an opportunity to bring America and all that it stood for to the four corners of the earth—even this distant island.
Was it worth it?
Already, he had seen his share of horrors in this war, such as his friend Ben’s death. That poor boy barely had any business being a soldier, but he had given his life. In quiet moments, Deke still ached for that loss. He hoped that someone, somewhere in the future, appreciated the sacrifices that Ben and the other American soldiers had made on these distant islands.
It was one thing to talk about freedom and wave the flag, but today’s events had proved how that meant something. They had given these Chamorros their freedom. As he drifted off to sleep, Deke felt pretty good about that.
Then again, who knew what tomorrow would bring?
“Maybe someone will give us a medal,” Philly said as they prepared to move out the next morning. “We liberated this whole damn camp.”
“I don’t think that we can take credit for liberating the camp,” Lieutenant Steele said. “These people did a fine job of liberating themselves, if you ask me. However, I am glad that we could get them some food and medicine. With any luck, those navy flyboys will be back today to drop more supplies. Eventually, we’ll get some medical personnel back here as well—once the Japs are cleared out. Clearing out Japs happens to be our job, by the way, so we are going to get back to it.”
Deke was ready enough. Like the others, he’d had a decent night’s sleep. He felt a dull ache from the bourbon—although he hadn’t imbibed all that much, as he was not a big drinker. Ingram and Alphabet appeared sluggish. Even Tony Cruz wore a look of regret on his lined face after celebrating with his countrymen. Yoshio was the only one who hadn’t been drinking. Instead, he had hit it off with a pretty young Chamorro woman who seemed to view him as a conquering hero. Yoshio had slipped off with her and only returned before dawn. The lieutenant had noticed, but he hadn’t said a word.
“Don’t you look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Deke said. “I wouldn’t have thought you got much sleep last night, kid. What was her name, anyhow?”
Yoshio blushed deeply but managed to stammer, “A gentleman does not kiss and tell.”
“A gentleman, huh? Then what’s stopping you?”
Yoshio just blushed even deeper until he looked like a ripe mango.
Philly won the prize for looking the worst for wear. “I knew I shouldn’t have had that second drink,” he said, shaking his head. By “drink” he meant a tin mug filled to the brim with bourbon. He groaned.
“Hey, where’s your sword?”
“I traded it to one of those girls.”
“Traded your precious sword? Must have been for something good. I saw you two sneaking off for a while.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember much, but I hope I got something good out of it.” Philly groaned again.
“I reckon it’s a good thing the Japs didn’t attack us last night,” Deke said. “They would have stuck a bayonet in your drunken ass.”
“That would have been all right with me. I don’t think I would have felt a thing last night,” Philly said. He rubbed his forehead before putting his helmet back on. “But if a Jap so much as shouts loud at me this morning, I might surrender.”
Deke grinned. He figured it was a small price to pay for the good time they’d had the night before. He’d gone easy on the booze. His mild headache was nothing compared to some of the hangovers he had experienced on leave in Hawaii or Baltimore. In Baltimore, it was easy enough to get carried away on the Block, the section of the city that welcomed soldiers and sailors on leave with neon-lit bars, flowing National Bohemian beer, and strip clubs. He’d even visited Sadie on leave, but he had behaved himself around his sister.
“All right, boys. I know we had some fun last night, but everybody snap out of it and get your heads on straight,” Lieutenant Steele said. “We’re moving out again.”
Hundreds of cheering Chamorros, many waving flags, sent them on their way. Small boys ran alongside them for a half mile before turning back. With Tony Cruz once again leading the way, they headed into the hills where the Chamorros said the Japanese had last been seen.
