Yoshio scanned the letter. “It’s from his wife,” he announced. “She says everything is fine at home and that he should be careful.”
“He ought to have listened to her,” Philly said. He glanced at the photograph. “She’s not bad looking. Maybe I’ll look her up when I get to Japan.”
He dropped the letter and photo into the mud, and they walked on.
Their destination was a distant ridge where Japanese troops had been spotted. One of the landmarks that stood out was Bugabuga Hill, a rocky outcropping that rose higher than the neighboring hills, resembling a crooked thumb rather than a middle finger. Raising binoculars to his eyes, Deke could just make out the distant sight of a Japanese battle flag on that peak. Something about it made his blood boil, and he would have liked nothing better than to sprout wings, fly over there, and rip that flag down. As it stood, it was going to be a long slog to get there.
Intelligence reports indicated that these enemy troops were under the direct order of General Suzuki, one of Yamashita’s minions. Along with his superior officer, Suzuki had played a role in the Sook Ching massacre in Singapore during 1942 — with help from the Imperial Japanese Army’s
Along the muddy road, they began to meet refugees from the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. First, the refugees came in a trickle, and eventually there was a flood involving hundreds of civilians. Many had taken to the hills to escape the fighting during the US invasion, but now that the Japanese had themselves taken to the hills where the refugees were hiding, they were once again fleeing.
Deke watched as crowds of men, women, and children flowed against the advancing troops. They were ragged and haggard from living in the hills without enough to eat or proper shelter. Many were sick, struggling to carry young children or a few meager possessions. Some rode skinny cows or ponies. He could tell from their clothes that these people came from all walks of life, because under the mud and dirt some wore dress shoes or the remnants of a suit. They had all been thrown together by this great calamity that had upended society.
The sight would have been heartbreaking, except for the fact that there was no air of sorrow surrounding the Filipinos. Sure, they were exhausted, but they looked overjoyed to see the Americans. A few waved tattered US flags that they had hidden away and held on to all through the Japanese occupation in hopes of this very moment. An end to their suffering at the hands of the Japanese had arrived. They were flowing back now toward the areas that had been liberated by US forces.
“God bless you! God bless you!” cried one elderly grandmother in English. She looked as if she barely had the strength to stand. Deke gave her a chocolate bar, which she accepted but promptly handed over to a knot of small children nearby.
Deke shrugged and gave her another. “For you,” he said.
The old woman broke off a piece for herself and once again gave the rest away.
One older man paused to confer with Lieutenant Steele and one of the artillery officers, pointing out exactly where Japanese troops were dug in on the ridges ahead. It turned out that he had even made a rough map that would have gotten him killed if the Japanese had caught him with it. The officers thanked him, and the man shook his fist at the distant hills before moving on.
The road passed through open spaces covered in thick green cogon grass with a few binayuyo trees growing at the roadside. The binayuyo trees with their magnolia-like leaves sometimes had small clusters of fruit that resembled grapes. Danilo picked a handful and prompted Deke to have a taste. The dark-purple fruit was rather sweet and pulpy, almost like a prune or frost-ripened persimmon. The starving refugees were so hungry that they didn’t stop at devouring the ripe fruits but also ate the sour green binayuyo fruit out of desperation. Meanwhile, the GIs shared whatever rations they could spare, and then some, with the hungry hordes.
It became more apparent what the refugees had gone through at the hands of the Japanese marauders in the area. The survivors on the road were the lucky ones. As the troops advanced deeper into the territory into which the enemy had fled, they began to pass bodies that had been stabbed to death with bayonets or even partially beheaded. Some of the dead women showed signs of having been raped, their bodies left partially naked. Dead children lay near some of these bodies, indicating that mother and child had been cruelly killed by the Japanese. Clouds of flies and swarms of ants lost no time in descending upon the dead. Though battle-hardened, seeing the dead women and children was too much for some of the GIs, who stumbled out of the formation to vomit.
