Smoke from dozens of small fires hung like a pall over the city, turning the setting sun bloodred, like a single angry eye squinting at the destruction. In addition to the smell of burning wood, the smoke stank of scorched rubber and sometimes roasted meat. By night, the GIs holed up in the ruins and slept fitfully even when they weren’t on watch, wary of any marauding Japanese. There was no electricity across Manila, but the darkness was interrupted by flickering flames and an occasional muzzle flash. The soldiers welcomed daylight, even if it only meant more fighting from one ruined block to another.
That was about to change. A runner arrived at daybreak with new orders for Lieutenant Steele. The soldiers of Patrol Easy were still licking their wounds from the battle at the baseball stadium, but it turned out that they been assigned a special task that took them all by surprise and would be one of their greatest challenges yet.
“Grab a seat,” Steele said, having gathered them all to hear what he had to say. Deke and the rest of the patrol, along with the Filipino fighters, could only guess at what they were being asked to do next. Deke glanced at Juana, who was watching the lieutenant intently, ready for anything. She looked up and caught Deke’s eye. Her lips were normally set in a grim line, but she gave him a slight smile. Deke did the same in return.
Philly had caught sight of that exchange and stared as if he had just witnessed two lumps of coal suddenly sparkle like diamonds. He opened his mouth to say something that he would probably regret, but at that moment the lieutenant started to speak and saved his bacon.
“We’re being asked to do a job that requires some finesse,” Steele began. “HQ wants us there because we are good shots, but there may not be any shooting. In fact, it would be better if there wasn’t.”
Philly spoke up as usual. “With all due respect, Honcho, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m getting to that,” Steele said. “I’m talking about a hostage situation. Our boys have a bunch of Japanese surrounded at an old university near here, but it turns out the Japanese are holding prisoners there. A lot of those prisoners are Americans, and they are threatening to shoot them unless we give the Japanese safe passage.”
“Safe passage where?”
“They just want us to let them go. I’d imagine that they’re hoping to link up with the rest of their friends, planning to make a last stand in the old quarter of the city.”
“Why should we let them do that?” Philly wondered. “We’ll just have to fight them later.”
Steele shook his head. “Remember those hostages I mentioned? It all comes back to that. Anyhow, none of that is up to me. Our job is to pick off the Japanese if it comes to that. The brass doesn’t want to start shooting randomly with machine guns or artillery. We’d have a lot of dead prisoners then, including Americans. Some of the prisoners are women, from what I hear.”
“Who is going to negotiate with the Japanese?”
He nodded at Yoshio. “We have an interpreter, remember? That’s just in case they don’t speak English, although we know a lot of their officers do. But don’t worry, HQ is sending an officer to lead the negotiations.”
“It figures,” Philly said. “What’s the matter, Honcho? Doesn’t anybody trust us?”
“Look at this way, fellas. If any of the prisoners get killed, it’s on him,” Honcho said. “As usual, our job is mainly to shoot Japs — if we’re needed to do that.”
Steele explained that the negotiator was slated to meet them at the campus. Within the hour, they were moving through the increasingly ruined city, heading in the direction of the university. Once-proud buildings had been reduced to rubble during the fighting, mostly the result of artillery that was being used to systematically destroy any structure harboring the enemy. So much dust hung in the humid air that the sunlight turned a strange burnished sepia tone, like it was filtering through a faded yellow curtain at Grandma’s house.
Bodies of dead Japanese soldiers lay strewn here and there, but there were many more dead city residents, a grim reminder of the price that Manila had been paying. The Filipinos who hadn’t fled worked to gather and bury the bodies, but it was hard to keep up. Nobody bothered with the enemy dead. Stray dogs with their ribs sticking out nosed through the ruins, hoping for scraps.
“It looks like the surface of the moon,” Yoshio said sadly.
“I haven’t been to the moon, but that sounds about right,” Deke replied.
Where the fighting had quieted down, bulldozers were at work, pushing the rubble aside to clear the streets so that tanks and supply trucks could advance more easily. Their loud engines and belching smoke only added to the chaotic feel of destruction.
“Keep your eyes open,” Lieutenant Steele warned. “There’s no telling if there are still a few Nips around.”
“They’re as hard to wipe out as sewer rats,” Philly muttered.
