Sacrifice and Remembrance The Saga of an American Family

Book One

The Pacific

World War Two

PROLOGUE

They were some of the last Americans fighting on the Island of Mindanao in the late spring of 1942. Exhausted and terrified they struggled to help their wounded escape the battlefields. With extreme difficulty, they ascended the steep narrow road, strewn with debris from combat with the Japanese. Finally, they stumbled onto a less traveled one, which would be a cow pathway, back in the States.

They headed into the jungle to hide from the Imperial Japanese Army, who would show no compunction, in butchering them. Road signs did not exist. They had to get as far away as possible, from Sindangin Bay, a place where Jap troops were concentrated. It was a simple decision for American soldiers, fighting for survival against overwhelming odds, run and hide or go to meet your maker!

They worked their way up a winding path, away from the maelstrom of death, placing each foot forward, with extreme caution. Mind fields were everywhere! Eyes darted at every movement, and ears tuned to any sound, foreign to the jungle. They were constantly on the lookout for a vicious enemy, who had vowed, no prisoners, for all who had ignored the American commander General Wainwright’s order, to surrender.

The average age of the group was twenty-one years; they were American soldiers, on the run, trying to stay alive, one day at a time. Only eight of the original fourteen had survived, since the American’s laid down their arms, on June 9, 1942.

Connor said, Are you scared Liam?

Liam looked at his older brother with haunted eyes and said one word, Shitless.

Droplets of sweat, stung the eyes of each soldier, caused by the intense heat from the sun and dread of the unknown. The path snaked like a serpent past putrid swamps in the low lands. Around a sharp bend, hundreds of carrion eating seagulls startled by the approaching soldiers, panicked and took flight in a whoosh of fluttering wings, as they squawked at the intruders for disturbing mealtime.

A few fluttering blood speckled white feathers dropped from the flying white rats, as they circled overhead. The feathers slowly floated to the path in front of them. The point man, Johnson cried out in an anguished voice, Oh my God in heaven. as he turned to his fellow soldiers, his face as white as chalk, horrified he lifted his arm slowly, like a dying man. Pointing with his outstretched hand at what petrified him.

He dropped his rifle and fell to his knees. Arms wrapped around himself, he rocked back and forth, as he kept saying, Oh God, oh God. He had his eyes closed tight, trying to block out what he saw, but his olfactory sense would not let him blank out the revulsion he felt. He would see it in his psyche for the rest of his days.

As the others caught up to him, they inhaled death before they saw it. The disgusting odor of decaying flesh was so prevalent they gagged. They could taste it! Stomachs shuddered with loathing at the barbaric sight. On the side of the road, lay twenty-three mutilated, bloated bodies, of American soldiers. They had turned a blackish green shade from the heat. One of the dead was a priest. Diego, a marine from New Mexico crossed himself and said, Bella! Horrida bella Johnson looked at Diego perplexed and Diego said, War, horrid war.

The Japs had murdered American soldiers, who had their hands tied behind their backs. The Nips had looped the ropes around the POW’s necks to harness them together like animals. The rope neckties were now a crimson red from decapitation. Hordes of black flies left an extensive meal as the ragged collection of soldiers stumbled past dead compatriots.

They were horrified; the seagulls had feasted on the eyeballs of the severed heads. The emptiness of the sockets stared back at them and penetrated deep into their core. Only the eyes of the remaining flies gave them a defiant stare, from the emptiness of the sockets. Most of the soldiers threw up what little food they had in their empty stomachs. They exchanged individual promises to breathe a final breath like fighting men instead of sheep led to a massacre, even if they had to use sticks and stones as weaponry.

Fingers dug into the wooden stocks of weapons to stop hands from shaking. With a tremulous voice someone said, I will kill myself, before I let those bastards capture and torture me! These soldiers had looked into the eyes of death. They would not allow themselves to plummet into an abyss of nothingness, like lemmings.

They loathed leaving unburied Americans along the side of the road, but they had to keep moving in order to survive. They continued to tramp wearily along the rocky trail with grave spirits. Each of them tried to come to grips with the possibility of pending death. Repugnance for the Japs and for the terror and butchery of war, continued to grow.

The macabre carnage meant a struggle to the death, if they encountered Japanese soldiers. Following weeks of evading the enemy, they were a pathetic looking collection of soldiers, continuously concealing themselves from Jap observation planes. Finally, they discovered a grotto, on Mount Apo, at about the 4,500-foot elevation level. Trees hid the opening and protected them from enemy search planes. The summit is 9,700 feet. It is the highest mountain on the Island of Mindanao; it was now a temporary base for them.

Later, in the gloomy silence of the night, the soundless advance of elusive shadows was broken, when clouds blocked the stark moonlight. The stealth movement of Japanese soldiers went unnoticed, concealed by the strong night wind from the Pacific. A few droplets of rain turned into a slashing storm and gave the enemy cover they needed, to exterminate the exhausted American guards. Then, the flickering shadows continued to move forward.

The Americans left homes, in cities and towns, from all over America, to defend the US. Now, this rancid cave in the Philippines would be their burial chamber, far from families back home.

Over forty Japanese voices screamed a battle howl, Banzai. in unison. The Americans were as good as dead; they grasped whatever weapon they could find to fight to the death. A hand grenade flipped end over end. It hit the stone floor; and rattled forward like a kicked tin can. They stared at it in dismay, frozen immobile; knowing it was their instant to die. The burst was blinding, and the explosion deafening, as the shock wave hit and the impact threw their bodies against the rock wall. Young men, ripped apart, screamed in anguish, as they died.

Survivors of the blast came out of a daze and heard muffled screaming through bleeding ears, as the Nips started to bayonet the wounded. Some crawled to the rear of the cavern. They wiggled through a small crawl space and came up at the rear of some bushes on the mountainside. They had survived, but shame for leaving the wounded would also live on, forever!

A massive explosion, set off by the enemy, closed off the cave entrance and the impact of the blast flattened them. Gasping for air, one thought rushed through their minds. ‘I am breathing’!

Liam heard the enemy coming. He tried to raise his head, but it was too heavy. He was dying! His destiny cast in granite.

Liam O’Brien, United States Ranger Special Forces suddenly jerked wide awake. His eyes flew open in panic; it was tough to focus for a split second. The train conductor called out, Union Station and then he made an apology to the travelers for the hasty stop, which had almost knocked everyone from their seats. He said, A new engineer trainee is up front, and he’s a little hard on the brakes today.

It had been the same old nightmare. His body still trembled and sweat ran down his face. The middle-aged woman sitting in the opposite seat asked him if everything was all right. Her grey hair brushed against his face, as she leaned toward him, in her worry. She had set her knitting aside in her fret for him. It made him think of his own mother.

Liam smiled at her and said, Sorry if I frightened you Ma’am and I certainly hope I didn’t say anything in my ranting to offend you.

She smiled and replied, It wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. My husband was on the Bataan Death March in WW2. He spent three years as a POW imprisoned under those decadent Japanese camp guards. He was used as slave labor in Japanese coal mines. The prisoners traveled from Bataan to Japan on a cattle ship. The prisoners called it a Hell Ship. Many died on the journey to Japan.

Preparing to get off the train, she hesitated, and with tears in her eyes she said, He says things in his sleep he would rather forget. He has nightmares just like you. Only you and God know what suffering you went through. I can only say it will get better with time, God Bless you son.

Major O’Brien took his small brown leather briefcase from the overhead rack and left the train. He looked like a poster boy for the armed forces in his Army Ranger uniform. ‘Thank God they can’t see the uncertainties, buried in my mind’, he thought. He looked at his wristwatch as he pushed open the glass doors of Union Station and thought, ‘Christ, I better get the lead out, or I’ll be late for court!’

Chapter One

The Court House

It was raining incessantly, the early morning fog made it difficult to see across the street. Two yellow cabs rushed past him. One of them hit a puddle beside the curb. Grimy water from the gutter landed on Liam’s overcoat. ‘God damn jerk’ he said to himself as he stepped off the curb in front of the next cab and forced the cabbie to hit the brakes, firmly. Liam grabbed the door handle and threw open the door.

The cabbie screamed, For Christ sakes soldier, you got a God damn death longing? Liam slid onto the rear seat and gave the driver a severe look. The driver shut up straight away.

Then, in an unruffled voice, Liam said, There’s an extra buck in it for you, if you get me to Central Courthouse, in the Bronx, before 9 AM.

The cabbie had an unlit cigar in his mouth he was chewing on, and thought to himself, ‘You just spent another buck pal.’ Liam jerked back in the seat as the driver spun the tires on the wet pavement and accelerated into traffic. The cabbie glared into his rear view mirror with an arrogant look on his face.

He was stunned to see Liam staring into the mirror. Those knife-like dark eyes held not a glimmer of fear. They locked with a perilous intensity straight into the reflection of the cabbies eyes in the rear view mirror. This New York City Yellow cab driver did not take shit from anyone, but for a few moments, he felt real dread, in the pit of his stomach. Then Liam winked and leaned back in the seat in contemplation about how the day would unfurl.

Buried deep in thought, he heard, but disregarded the din of the traffic, the sounds of heavy buses accelerating, aggravated drivers hitting horns and the steady thump, thump of the cabs windshield wipers. He saw the rear of the cab driver’s head and when the cabbie looked out the side window, he could see the drivers jaw moving as he munched on his soggy cigar. The reek of the half-smoked stale cigar made Liam’s nostrils cringe. It permeated the air in the cab.

Every time Liam smelt a stale cigar in a closed in space, it gave him a flashback when he smoked his first cigar at nine years of age. It was a Saturday evening in the dog days of summer and his mother had found cigarette butts hidden in his pillowcase. She twisted his ear and marched him out to his father, who was sitting on the front veranda, playing cards with a few friends.

His father confronted him and asked where the butts came from, Did you pinch the cigarettes? He set his fathers mind at rest when he said, I did not steal the cigarettes.

Then he said, I earned a few cents flagging down cabs for drunks, staggering out of the Majestic House Tavern. They tossed their half-smoked butts into the gutter, before getting into the cab. After the cab pulled away, I picked up their butts from the gutter, cut off the soggy end with my penknife, and smoked the rest of it.

His mother turned green and told him to never, never do it again! She stormed into the house, looking back, over her shoulder, she snapped, He’s your child, you deal with him!

His father said, Liam, I’m glad you did not steal the smokes, but it was not the most excellent idea to smoke other people’s soggy butts, dumped into the gutter. He told Liam to pull up a chair and join him with the rest of the men, who were playing cards. His father handed Liam a cigarette and then lit it for him. After the fourth cigarette, Liam’s throat was burning and he refused the fifth smoke. His father said he understood, but he wanted to celebrate the fact his son could handle cigarettes. He pulled out a couple of cigars, one for each of them.

Liam remembered as if it was yesterday, when he finished smoking the cigar to a short butt and then he staggered into the backyard, leaned over the fence, and puked green. The experience drilled into his brain, a hatred for cigarettes and cigars, from that day forward.

Liam sensed the cabbie staring at him in the rear view mirror and finally the cabbie said with newfound esteem, You have the Philippine Battle Ribbon on your Special Forces Ranger Uniform. I was in the Philippines in early 45, how about you?

Liam smiled and said, From 40 until 45. The cabbie did not say anything; he simply rolled down his window, and flicked the cigar butt outside the cab. The window stayed down to let the cool dampness cleanse the interior of the cab. It cooled Liam’s face like a sea breeze. The cabbie cleared his throat and spit out the window.

The cab stopped at a red light, he turned around, looked at Liam with real concern, and said, Shit, you were a Prisoner of War; you unfortunate bastards really suffered at the hands of the Japs. Liam smiled and shook his head and said, Thanks for the concern, but I didn’t care to be a POW, so I joined Pitt’s Raiders, for the duration.

The cabby’s eyes bulged, when Liam said; he had been a Pitt Raider. The cabbie did not utter a word for the rest of the journey. A few minutes before 9 AM the cab slid to a stop in front of the Court House and the cabbie jumped out into the torrential downpour, opened the curbside rear door for Liam, and said, Sir, this rides on me; it has been an honor having you in my cab. I would have probably been torn to pieces by Nip machine gun fire, when we stormed the beaches of Mindanao, if you Raiders hadn’t kicked Jap ass from the jungle side, and put them in a pincer.

Liam got out of the cab; the cabbie snapped to attention, offering a parade ground salute, Liam returned it. He then shook hands with the cabby and thanked him.

Liam went up the stone steps two at a time and went into the old courthouse, to see if he could help his young nephew, Mike. Mike O’Brien was Liam’s eighteen-years-old nephew; he was in trouble with the law. He was family, and in Liam’s mind, nothing was more important than family. It was March of 1950; Mike was out of work and in trouble. Liam was here to lend a hand in any way he could.

Mike was married to his high school sweetheart, Patricia. They had a young son, named Reggie. ‘Christ, they are just kids; they shouldn’t have to worry about the responsibilities of raising a family. They should be in college, having fun and enjoying life.’ thought Liam.

Liam knew Mike loved his newborn son Reggie and his wife, Patricia, with all of his heart. Liam wished only the best for them; after all, he was Reggie’s Godfather.

Connor, his older brother, called him last week, Mikes in trouble again, he had another fist fight and got himself arrested for assault. He has to be in court next week to answer for his impulsive act of violence, and in this instance he could do time.

Liam asked, What the hell happened?

Mike’s father said, "Apparently, a street punk made a pass at Patricia, when she took Reggie out in his carriage for a walk in Central Park. The punk put his arm around her and suggested they go back to his place; he would show her what a real man could do in bed.

Mike planned to meet them at the park, after a job interview. The timing was just right, of course. He saw and heard what was happening. His damn Irish temper soared and he hit the bastard as hard as he could."

He knocked the punk out cold with one punch, and threatened the other two little hoodlums, who immediately took off running.

Liam laughed, It proves the old saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Connor said to his younger brother, Come on Liam, be serious for a moment, he could be in grave trouble with the law, this time. He cannot afford a legal representative and he will not take charity from New York City, by having a court appointed lawyer. He wants to tell the truth and present his own defense.

His biggest quandary is, the Central Park cop, who was on horseback, saw the whole fight, but not what caused it. He arrested Mike on the spot for the physical attack. One of the officers down at the precinct gave me a heads up or I wouldn’t have heard about it, until I visited Mike in the county lockup, after he had been convicted.

Connor said, I talked to Mike about his court date to see if I could help out.

Mike said, Don’t worry about it Pop, I can handle it on my own.

The little punk he hit has a busted nose, his father is out for blood, and wants Mike put away. Apparently, the father has a family member in the District Attorneys office and they want Mike to do time. Liam, I’m really worried for my son!

Judge Able Cain sat behind the bench in his courtroom. He looked down through glasses, perched low on his nose, at Mike O’Brien. Mike had a fair complexion with light brown hair and green eyes. He was the spiting image of his father, Connor. The Judge was not conscious he was staring at Mike, because he was deep in his own thoughts. Connor and the Judge had been in the Philippines together at the outbreak of WW2.

The Clerk asked Mr. Mike O’Brien to stand and he read the charge against him. The Judge realized, Mike was returning his intent look. It was a steady unflinching one, not of disdain, but one of contemplation. Connor sat quietly at the rear of the courtroom, Mike did not know his father was in the court, but Judge Cain could see his old comrade, who had a look of anxiety on his face.

Judge Cain was in his mid thirties. He had a five o’clock shadow, even though it was only 9 A.M. He read from the report in front of him and said, Mr. O’Brien, this is the second time, you have been in court for street fighting. Do you have an attorney present?

Immediately, Mike rose from his chair, gripping the table in front of him to keep his voice from shaking, replied, You’re Honor, I would like to defend myself.

Judge Cain had slightly crooked teeth. His fairly long brown hair covered his ears. When he turned his head, Mike noticed his left ear was missing, except for scar tissue. Without thinking, Judge Cain adjusted his hair to cover the remnant. He said, That could be very perilous young man. The City of New York will make available a lawyer if you do not have the funds for one.

Mike tried to stand taller and said, Thank you for the suggestion you’re Honor, but it would embarrass me and my family if I accepted New York City charity.

Well sir, I have a note from the District Attorney’s office stating, since this is your second act of violent behavior, they strongly believe, you should spend time incarcerated. What do you have to say for yourself?

Mike presented his case and explained, I was defending my wife’s honor, when I hit the so called victim.

The Judge paused, tried not to smile, and measured the report in front of him. I understand why you did what you did. Perhaps you believed the victim acted like a disrespectable citizen. He may have laid a hand on your wife, but you cannot take the law into your own hands. If he put his arm around your wife, without her consent, and he made derogatory remarks, it is never too late, to take legal action, to defend her honor. However, it does not diminish the fact; you struck a citizen of this city, even if he acted disgracefully.

Judge Cain looked at Mike and said, You have admitted your culpability, on your own volition. You are guilty of assault and you must suffer the consequences. You have one of two choices. Make your decision wisely. Your options are to spend one year in a New York state penal institution or to join the U.S. Army for a two-year enlistment period. I suggest you take the second option.

Judge Cain said, In World War 2, I was a proud member of the New York Fighting 69th and if you make a decision to join up, I would be more than pleased to give you a recommendation. A man who is willing to put it all on the line, against three opponents, to defend principle and honor, is the type of man, to have by your side, in a tense situation. A man who believes honor is one of the most significant things in life, would do justice in defending the honor of this nation.

Mike realized, he had extremely limited options, but he had to think for a moment. He thought to himself, ‘What would Patricia say? She is from a military family, so she would probably understand.’ Mike wondered, ‘How will Dad react? He refused to talk about what happened to him in the Philippines, during the war. He must have hated the army.’

He thought, ‘Uncle Liam is a Special Forces Ranger, he most likely would support my decision to join the Army. Shit, what the hell should I do?’

The Judge looked at him and said, Well young man, I’m waiting for your decision.

Mike nodded and said to the Judge, I have decided to accept the second option your honor.

Mike told the Judge, I’ll go down to the recruiting office this afternoon and sign up for the U.S. Army.

The Judge said, Son, the army will help you become a better individual, with a little discipline under your belt, it will make you a better man, in my opinion. In your present circumstances; it is my belief, you have made the right decision.

I served as a Medic during the War and afterwards the GI Bill supplied the opportunity for me to complete a law degree, I started before the War. Eventually, it led to a Judgeship in this courtroom. Mr. O’Brien, your Army profession will give you unlimited opportunities if you are willing to work hard and keep that Irish temper of yours under control.

Mike knew his father had started as a private in the Fighting 69th in World War 2 in the Philippines. Mike realized he was getting a break, because Uncle Liam and his father were probably old Army acquaintances of the Judge, even though the Judge made no such mention of it.

The Judge smiled at Mike and said, Two old friends of mine, we both know very well, are waiting for you. They will be extremely happy with your decision to join the forces. Let us trust, they share with you exactly what happened to them, overseas. Soldiers, who fought alongside of them, regard them as true heroes. Their experiences in the Philippines would make a great war movie. The Judge then said, Officer O’Brien, would you please accompany this young man to his meeting.

Mike spun around in surprise, he saw his father, a New York City police officer, standing behind him, in his dress uniform. Officer Connor O’Brien was tall and had a fair complexion, with light brown hair. His green eyes misted, as he nodded his head to the Judge and said, Thank you Judge, I really am grateful for this, I will never forget.

The Judge’s face turned a light shade of red in embarrassment and he said, It is the least I could do for you sir, it is my pleasure and honor to give back a little, for everything, you and Liam did for me, in Bataan.

Mike thanked Judge Cain, turned, and walked out of the courtroom with his father. Mike whispered to his father, I didn’t know that you and the Judge were on a first name basis!

His father said, Mike, I have a lot to tell you! I think it’s time, to bring you up to date about some of our family military history.

Out in the long corridor they spotted Uncle Liam at the far end with his back to them. Mike wondered what Uncle Liam was doing at the courthouse, as he and his father walked down the hardwood hallway, toward his Uncle. Liam looked out a large window, down at the courthouse plaza, two stories below. Ramrod straight, with his hands clasped behind his back, dressed in his U.S. Army Ranger Major’s uniform, and sensed someone coming up behind him. He turned, and said, It’s nice to see you Mike. I hope Mr. Bones went easy on you, in his courtroom.

Connor smiled and said, Judge Cain found Mike guilty, and sentenced him to join the Army.

Liam laughed, Christ, it could be a life sentence, look at me.

Mike always admired his uncle, who looked great in his uniform. Liam had a devil may care attitude toward life, but at the same time, he knew, when to be serious. He was six foot one, just like his brother, but he had dark hair, sky blue eyes, and a slightly weather beaten face. Known for his Irish humor, he also had an Irish temper, but he could be in command of it, when necessary.

Mike smiled and said, It’s good to see you Uncle Liam. Why did you call the Judge Mr. Bones?

Liam laughed and said, He was our Medic in the Pacific, during World War 2. He saved more lives on the front line, without suitable medical equipment, than anyone did, in the Philippines. If it wasn’t for Mr. Bones, many of us would be rotting in some unmarked grave.

What are you doing here today? Mike asked.

Liam said, Your father called and told me what was happening with your predicament, concerning the street fight, and I called Mr. Bones to see if the case could be held in his courtroom. Remember what we always say. Family is number one, with the O’Brien’s. Talking about family, how are Reggie and Patricia doing?"

Mike told him, They are both fine. Patricia wanted to be here today, but I told her, I could handle it, so she went to visit her mother, until later this afternoon.

Liam turned and looked back out the window for a long moment and said, I was standing here, waiting for you to come out, and I was looking at the War Memorial down in the square. Some of our friends’ names, who died in the War, are engraved on it and by the grace of God, our names are not.

We think of those men often. They were not a great deal older then you, Mike, Christ, some even younger. Joey Donavan’s name is on the memorial. He was only seventeen, when he caught a Jap sniper bullet in the back, just before American forces surrendered. Joey was just a kid, God, we all were! He was only five foot three and weighed in about one hundred and ten. He had a baby face, and looked like he should be back in high school, as a junior. He lied about his age, to get into the army.

Dr. Bones was the only medic available, he stayed wide awake around the clock after he operated on Joey, to try and stop the internal bleeding, but the bullet did too much damage. Bones blamed himself, and he cried like a baby when Joey died. Just think about it, he operated to try to stop the bleeding and he was a medic, not a surgeon. After an awkward moment, Liam still looking away, sniffed and cleared his throat, They were ghastly days, leading up to the order to lay down our arms, weren’t they Connor?

Mike turned to his father and noticed him wiping tears from his eyes. He looked directly at Mike and said, They certainly were, it still hurts like hell. Mike was shocked, his father never showed emotion. It stunned Mike; he had never seen his father shed tears.

His dad said, I saw you looking at the Judge’s ear, which is more like scar tissue. Able performed an extremely valiant act of bravery, when he crawled out into an open field, under heavy fire, and dragged Joey to safety. The Japs felt, the Medic’s Red Cross was a bull’s eye. The sniper shot off part of Abel’s ear, while he was pulling Joey to safety.

Mike was astonished. He turned to his father, I didn’t know you and Uncle Liam were in the same outfit.

Connor said, Liam and I didn’t start out in the same outfit, but we both ended up in the Philippines, at the same point in time. We met up before the surrender, and both of us decided to stick together, come hell or high water. We talked about not following the orders to submit. We knew if we did not give up, death awaited, if the Japs got hold of us. General Yamashita was the Jap Supreme Commander. He said, for every American who did not respect the surrender; he would offer a decoration to his soldiers for the decapitated head, of the American coward. He wanted the head brought in to him, with the dead man’s dog tag, stuck in the mouth.

Liam laughed, Your Dad is very quiet, unless he’s angry. He can be your best friend or your worse nightmare, if you cross him. Shit, he was really pissed off; the Jap sniper had tried to execute Dr. Bones, when he was giving medical aid to Joey. Connor did not say anything; he just left his foxhole during the night, and crept through the jungle. It was intensely dark; you could hardly see your hand in front of your face. Then we heard a rustling sound coming from the bushes, about 150 yards away. It was in the area, we thought the sniper was located, like a viper in his hole. Then we heard nothing, but silence. All of a sudden, an earth-shattering shriek of pain shook us to our very roots. Then, there was stillness.

We watched a blur of a shadow crawled at a snail's pace through the tall grass; I decided it must have been your dad, his ass was up in the air, since he’s so tall. He crept into our foxhole, dropped off the sniper’s rifle, with a beautiful scope. It earned its weight in gold, over the next few weeks, killing Japs.

Liam thanked him for the rifle and asked, Hey, what about ammo? He gave his big old smile; his teeth were the only bright spot on his mud-covered visage. Then he handed me a pouch full of bullets."

Covered in swamp muck he said, The little bugger won’t need it anymore. Then he said, Be back in a minute, I have to go see Mr. Bones.

Christ, are you hurt Connor?

Nope, I have a little souvenir for Doc, he might appreciate.

Later, Dr. Bones said, Connor gave me the Jap’s ears, as payback for losing my ear. He caught the Jap dozing and smashed in the side of the head, knocking him out. He tied him up and when he came too, he slit off his ears and then cut the little bugger’s gullet.

Later we found out, Jap snipers had orders to conceal themselves in trees and wound American soldiers. When the wounded soldier’s Medic tried to help, the sniper would take him out too. Extremely well camouflaged, with a precise sniper rifle, he was almost impossible to discover. Shooting a Medic made them murderers, in our eyes. Liam said.

Connor said, They did not shoot to kill, but tried for a lower back shot, to paralyze the target or a gut shot where the man would die a thousand deaths, in unbearable pain. Then the sniper would take out the Medic. The Japanese believed, the tormented screams of the dying, would demoralize the enemy. They wanted as many soldiers as possible involved in giving aid to the wounded. If our soldiers carried a litter, they would not be firing weapons.

Liam said, The sniper rifle, Connor took from the dead Nip was a Type 97, Arisaka sniper rifle, which was a bolt-action rifle, very similar to a Jap standard issue rifle, but a little lighter. It had a 2.5 power telescopic sight. A long barrel, which proved to be an advantage for the snipers preservation since it, gave off very little in the way of flash or smoke, when he made a kill. Connor and I decided to pay the Japanese back in kind, with the sniper rifle.

Liam told Mike about the night of the hunt, One night we had a monsoon, complete with lightening and rumbling boomers. Most people, simply tried to stay dry, which meant friend, and foe alike, hunkered down, wherever they could find safe haven. It was a perfect moment in time, to stalk! In the early hours of the morning, a heavy rain was still falling. Behind enemy lines, on a hilltop, we overlooked a Japanese patrol’s temporary encampment. It was some two hundred yards away. Connor was the spotter perched in a tree about thirty feet up, Liam could hardly see him. Connor had given me the rifle, so I was the shooter.

I was covered in reeds and brush for concealment, and set up perfectly, with a clear line of fire. One bullet, one kill, was our motto. Decide on your target, aim, let out your lungful of air slowly, and gently squeeze the trigger. I lifted my head for a better observation and Connor signaled me, to keep my damn head down.

Patience was the key, and staying completely frozen in time, with only my eye ball moving, as it peered through the scope, was of supreme significance. Liam relaxed his eye, by looking up from his prone position, above him, in a flowering shrub, staring back at him, was a soundless sentinel.

"A large spider was sucking the life blood, out of a flying creature, that became trapped in its web, during the