If the soldiers and even their tireless guerrilla allies appeared disheartened, their young guide looked the most dejected of all. Maybe he had started out the day with a sense of adventure, but seeing men die had cured him of that. It seemed to be sinking in for the boy that war was a deadly business. Like most boys his age, he’d probably been caught up in the excitement of it all. Because of his age and his relatively wealthy family, he had been sheltered from the worst of the war. Not any longer. For better or for worse, he had been forced to grow up a great deal in a single day based on what he had witnessed.
Honcho opened rations and handed them to the boy, along with a spoon. Franks and beans — the finest tinned rations a soldier could expect. “Eat up, kid. You’re gonna need the energy.”
“Yes, sir,” Roddy said. At first, he picked listlessly at the food, but then hunger overcame exhaustion and the sound of the spoon could be heard scraping against the empty metal can. As if by magic, chocolate ration bars appeared next to him on the stone block that was serving as the boy’s seat.
Honcho watched him eat for a moment, then said, “Hey, kid, you know what? Your father would be proud of you.”
The boy smiled in spite of himself and perked up. “Thank you, sir.”
“I thought I’d tell you that since he’s not around to say it. But don’t you worry, kid, he’ll tell you that himself soon enough.”
Roddy nodded and tackled a chocolate bar. The Hershey’s tropical bar or D ration was chalky, engineered not to melt in the heat, and while they weren’t exactly candy, they would somewhat satisfy the sweet tooth of a hungry boy. The kid deserved a whole lot more, like maybe an ice-cream sundae, but this was the best they could do in these conditions.
Deke realized that the lieutenant had an easy way of talking with the boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old. The lieutenant reached down and mussed the boy’s hair. It was such an automatic gesture that it hinted at Honcho having done this before, maybe back home, to a young nephew — or maybe his own son. Deke realized how little any of them really knew about the lieutenant. He had never mentioned family of any kind, but now Deke wondered. They lived and fought elbow to elbow, yet they all managed to keep some part of themselves private, especially officers, who naturally kept apart from the enlisted men.
Each man had a different way of handling the war. There were men who preferred not to think about home or the future because those were only distractions from the business of being a soldier. Some men, like Philly, talked constantly about home, women, food, baseball, or whatever else came into their heads. You couldn’t blame them — it was their way of dealing with being thousands of miles from home and being shot at to boot.
Deke preferred not to share anything too personal. Hell, now that he thought about it, Philly was probably the only one of the bunch who even knew he had a sister. Then again, it wasn’t hard to guess at Deke’s background or his nature. There was no hiding his Appalachian accent or those hard gray eyes that resembled ice chips when looking down the barrel of a rifle. He couldn’t hide the scars on his face and body, either, although few knew the story behind them.
Never one for deep thoughts, Deke turned his attention to his rifle. It was dusty and battered with fresh scars on the wood and new scratches on the barrel. Still, he had managed to keep the precious scope from being broken. Beat up as it was, the rifle looked pretty much like he felt.
He dug his cleaning kit out of his haversack, broke down the rifle, and set to work. When he had finished, he felt better, as if he had also somehow managed to clean out the grimy parts of his mind. Though the wooden stock was battered and the barrel was scratched, the rifle still managed to gleam with deadly intent.
Deke spread his blanket on the stone floor, and Juana did the same beside him. The rest of the squad was nearby, either having something to eat or focusing on cleaning their weapons.
Nobody said much, and even Philly was quiet for a change. They were all exhausted from a hard day of fighting and from the losses that they had taken at the hands of the Japanese. The final fight in the alley had been short and vicious before they had been forced to beat a hasty retreat. The boy curled up near Honcho and was asleep in minutes. There was no electricity, but Deke had found a candle in the ruins and dancing shadows soon lit the interior walls.
