Danilo was gone. Though it was no surprise, the finality of it hit the lieutenant hard. He pushed that thought down, not having time for it, and led the patrol back the way that they had come.
Out in the square, there was one more important piece of business waiting.
“Papa!” cried Roddy, who had crawled under a fallen column, keeping out of harm’s way just like Lieutenant Steele had told him to do.
“Son!”
The two embraced, a couple of tears leaving tracks in MacGregor’s dusty face.
Steele told himself that the reunion somewhat made up for Danilo. Life went on. He couldn’t help wondering who would grieve for their dead guide. Like so much about Danilo, the existence of any family that he’d had remained a mystery.
He glanced at his watch. Almost noon. Turning to the prisoners, he said, “We need to get out of here, and fast.”
The urgency in the lieutenant’s voice said it all. They did as they were told, or as best as they could. Rodeo and Yoshio, along with Captain Oatmire, jumped in to help the injured prisoners. At the edge of the square, they were rejoined by Deke and Philly, who hadn’t wasted any time getting off the roof of the bank building.
“You guys are a sight for sore eyes,” Philly said. “I was thinking—”
Whatever thought he’d wanted to share was interrupted by the high-pitched wail of incoming artillery. Right on schedule, the artillery officer was opening fire.
“Run!” Steele shouted.
The first shells hit, making the ground shake. The front corner of the legislative building shattered in a tremendous explosion that sent debris skyward.
Fortunately, the battered band of soldiers and prisoners had made it across the square.
“This way!” shouted Juana, leading them down an alley. They cut through one street after another, shells landing ever closer, and didn’t stop until they had reached the nearest gate of the walled city.
Behind them, what was left of the old city of Intramuros was being reduced to rubble, along with any remaining Japanese holdouts.
The stubborn Japanese resistance was no match for the determined artillery barrage. Wherever the enemy took refuge in the city, the building was simply leveled. While the approach was brutal to the city itself, it saved American lives that might have been lost in street-to-street fighting. The sturdy legislative building remained standing, but with the corners knocked off and the roof sagging, it resembled a collapsed soufflé. Any remaining Japanese within had either fled — or died when chunks of the building fell on their heads.
Admiral Iwabuchi had been the driving force behind the horrific battle that had destroyed the city. With the Americans closing in, Iwabuchi decided to commit suicide in the manner of a samurai warrior. Kneeling on the floor of the dirty dugout that served as his headquarters, Iwabuchi unbuttoned his naval officer’s tunic and used a
As Iwabuchi’s blood and offal ran out into the dirt, one of his staff officers then swung a sword with all his might, grunting with the effort of cutting off Iwabuchi’s head. It was not cleanly done, but then again, beheading was not something that he’d had the opportunity to practice. Shaking, with tears in his eyes, the younger officer then shot himself.
It wasn’t long before their bodies were found and identified. Ritual suicide was a gruesome and brutal act that was hard for the typical American soldier to fathom, but they had seen it done before. One of the intelligence officers used the toe of his boot to roll the head over and said, “That’s Iwabuchi, all right. It’s too bad the son of a bitch didn’t kill himself from the get-go and spare the whole damn city.”
With the city firmly in US control, word came down that Patrol Easy would be shipping out soon to rejoin the rest of the 77th Infantry Division.
But first there were a few goodbyes to make, starting with young Roddy and his father. Fortunately for them, their home had been spared from destruction, and the MacGregor family had been kept safe inside their walled compound.
“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Roddy — and helping us get away from those damn Japanese,” MacGregor said as Patrol Easy gathered around. He looked as if he had finally gotten a decent meal and was no worse for wear, except for a bandage on his left ear where a Japanese bayonet had caught him during the scuffle on the rooftop of the legislative building.
“We couldn’t have done it without Roddy,” Lieutenant Steele said. “You have a brave son there.”
“Indeed I do,” MacGregor said, reaching down to ruffle the boy’s hair, much as Honcho had done from time to time when the boy was helping to guide them through the city ruins. Roddy jerked his head away as if annoyed — acting like he was too old for that nonsense — but he was smiling as he did it. “Now we have a lot of rebuilding to do. This city is just about destroyed.”
