“At least you won’t be doing it alone,” Honcho said. Already, in the distance, crews of army engineers were using bulldozers to clear the streets. General MacArthur had made sending help to Manila a priority, although any real construction would have to wait until the end of the war. Other crews made up mostly of Filipinos worked to bury the dead — of which there were far too many civilian casualties.
“We’re glad to have all the help that we can get,” MacGregor agreed. “As for you fellas, go give the Japs hell. If you get to Tokyo, give Hirohito a punch in the nose from me.”
Of course they were not the only prisoners glad to get home and see families and friends from whom they had been separated. No one rested for long because survival in the city ruins required nothing but hard work. The two Red Cross nurses, including the redoubtable Catherine Rooney, had immediately gone to work helping wounded soldiers and civilians. Rooney could be heard muttering under her breath about “conditions,” but that didn’t stop her from doing everything from bandaging a wound to holding the hand of the dying. Deke decided that the nurses were two of the biggest-hearted, toughest people he had met in Manila.
Another goodbye came when they buried Danilo. There was no one to claim his body, considering that his family was far away on Leyte.
“Dammit, I figured that nobody could kill that tough bastard,” Deke said.
“When your number’s up, it’s up,” Philly said. It was a philosophy shared by many soldiers, and in some strange way it made the loss easier to bear.
Considering that Danilo had died during the most critical moments of that fight in the square, Deke had blamed himself because his crosshairs had been focused elsewhere. But when he said something aloud about that, Lieutenant Steele had been quick to dissuade him of that notion. “You made the best of two bad choices,” Honcho said. “If you hadn’t acted, every last one of those prisoners might have died. Don’t forget, those prisoners were the reason for us being there in the first place.”
Deke shook his head. “But still—”
“Listen, Deke. The enemy killed Danilo. It had nothing to do with you.”
Looking down at the bundled blanket — a bundle that looked much too small to contain a force of nature like Danilo — Deke tried to decide how he felt. He would not have called Danilo a friend, because he had scarcely known him, but they had fought side by side. Danilo also had taught him a great deal of jungle craft in an environment so very different from the mountains back home. Maybe Danilo hadn’t exactly been a friend, but he’d certainly been a kindred spirit.
“I do know one thing,” Deke said. “Danilo would not want to be buried in the city.”
At Deke’s insistence, they managed to commandeer a jeep to take them beyond the city, to where the green hills began to march down to the slow-moving Pasig River. The soil here was soft, and they soon had a grave dug under a grove of banyan trees. Patrol Easy kept a wary eye out because it was no secret that some Japanese fighters had made their way to the outskirts of the city and were now hiding in the agricultural lands and forests.
Also, they were not alone. None other than Father Francisco had found them in the ruins of the city just the day before and had agreed to preside over the burial of one of his old guerrilla fighters.
The first shovel of rich earth pattered down on Danilo’s body, making him forever a part of his beloved country for which he had fought and died.
Burying Danilo had been tough, but for Deke the hardest goodbye was yet to come.
Finally, the orders arrived for them to get down to the harbor, where they would be boarding a troop transport. He had been dreading this moment. It wasn’t the thought of what was next, but what he was leaving behind.
Juana would be staying in Manila, helping the occupation take out the few remaining Japanese defenders who had fled to the hills. At some point, she would put her rifle aside and begin the important work of rebuilding her country.
She accompanied them down to the port, where a ship was waiting to carry troops to the next islands, that much closer to Japan. The port was a flurry of activity, soldiers in olive green uniforms bustling about with the shouts of NCOs ringing in their ears. The ship stood tall and formidable, its drab metal exterior failing to look cheerful even in the bright sun. In the harbor beyond, the water sparkled a deep blue, its waves lapping against the ship’s sides. Considering that up until a few hours before the harbor front and surrounding city had been a scene of intense fighting, the peaceful setting felt surreal.
Father Francisco offered to marry them on the spot, but after considering it briefly, they shook their heads in unison. They both knew that fate was carrying them far apart, rather than together.
