The Long Patrol: World War II Novel (22 page)

BOOK: The Long Patrol: World War II Novel
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Ahio paced back and forth for two minutes then stood in front of Morrisey and nodded. “I accept this offer. You may have the white man.”

Morrisey smiled and nodded. “It will be an honor to have your village amongst us for this celebration.”

***

Dunphy was beside himself when he heard the news. He was fidgeting from foot to foot unable to control the smile spreading across his face. He nudged Morrisey in the arm, “Tell the fucker to bring me my clothes and weapon.”

Morrisey kept his smile, but through gritted teeth said, “Mind your manners. Our languages are close enough for him to pick up you’re tone. If you’re not careful you may end up here another week.”

Dunphy’s smile faded. “No way, no how am I staying here another minute.”

Hooper chimed in, “Then shut the fuck up numb-nuts.” Dunphy’s eyes went to slits, but he nodded and kept his mouth shut. Hooper shook his head; he really was a changed man. If he’d talked like that a week ago, Dunphy would have tried to knock him out. “We’ll get you changed out of your skirt in a minute.”

Dunphy gritted his teeth and Morrisey gave Hooper a stern look. “You’re like children. Try to behave.” He spoke to Ahio and with the flick of his hand he sent men off to retrieve Dunphy’s things.

Dunphy slung his carbine and took his clothes to his hut. “Be back in a second.” He was beaming as he ripped off the skirt and started to pull on his pants. There were hands around his waist squeezing him from behind. He jumped, but knew instantly it was Lela. She’d visited him every night. He turned to look at her, she kept her gaze down. He looked over her bare breasts with the golden brown nipples and her tight curly hair. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. She was still one of the homeliest women he’d ever been with, but he’d miss her skillful ministrations. “Stap gut. Mi lukim bihain.” ‘Stay good. I’ll see you later.’

Her eyes went from sad to mad. She clenched her fists and started yelling and hitting him. He tried to quiet her, but it was no use. He had to get out of there. If the Chief knew he’d continued screwing his daughter, he’d never get out.

As she yelled and punched him, he finished pulling on his pants. The rest would have to wait; she was getting herself into a frenzy. He ran out of the hut into the evening sun with her hot on his heels, her breasts swinging wildly. She found a stick and started whacking him with it. He yelled in pain and ran to Morrisey and Hooper like a scared puppy going between its master’s legs.

Chief Ahio frowned and raised his voice. She stopped beating him and stood staring at the ground breathing hard. Dunphy took the respite to pull on his boots. After walking through the jungle in bare feet for the past week they felt odd and constricting. Ahio spoke harshly to Lela. He ended with a question. Morrisey tensed and asked Dunphy, “What the bloody hell is going on? Don’t tell me you’ve been with her again, not after the first time.”

Dunphy wiped his bleeding forehead and said, “We need to get the fuck outta here. Now.”

Hooper was beside himself, “Dammit, Private can’t you keep your pecker in your pants for one second?”

“She came into my hut. If I didn’t do it she would’ve told the chief I raped her. I didn’t have a choice. She’s frickin’ crazy.”

Morrisey’s face went pale as he listened to Lela telling her father how Dunphy lured her into his hut and forced himself onto her. “That’s what she’s telling the Chief right now.”

Dunphy pulled on his shirt bringing the carbine off his shoulder. The natives surrounding them tensed, “That’s horseshit. If anything, she raped me.”

Hooper guffawed at that, “You wear a skirt and you get raped by a woman? You’re a changed man alright.”

Dunphy’s face went red. He wanted to kill him, but once again restrained himself. He may have all the fighting he’d want depending on how the next few minutes went.

Chief Ahios’ fumed, hearing his daughter’s story. He shot daggers from his eyes as he stared at Dunphy. Dunphy stared back. He was done taking any more of his shit. He decided he was willing to shoot his way out of here if he had to and the first one to die would be Ahio. The natives were unslinging their ancient rifles. Dunphy figured his semi-automatic carbine would be able to take out a good number of them before he would have to change clips. He felt for the extra clips he’d had in his pockets, but they were gone.
Thieving
pricks
.

Morrisey tried to say something, but Chief Ahio held up his hand for silence. He looked around at his men, tensed for combat. They looked at him as he spoke, confusion filling their faces. They lowered their weapons and stepped away. Morrisey spoke to Dunphy, “Sling your rifle, Private. He’s letting us go.” Dunphy made no move to do any such thing. “Do it now before he changes his mind.”

Dunphy saw the other men backing down, he stood straight and slung his carbine. “Probably shoot us in the back as we leave, or hunt us down like dogs.”

“They’d have a hard fight and wouldn’t be able to kill all of us,” he indicated his men standing at the ready. “My village would exact revenge. It wouldn’t go well for them; we’ve got them outnumbered two to one. Trust me, he’s letting us go. Don’t be daft and spoil it.”

More words were spoken and Morrisey turned away and walked back the way they’d come. “Don’t look back. Show our trust by not looking back.”

Hooper didn’t look back, but it took every fiber of willpower. He expected to be shot in the back any second. When they were safely in the jungle he let out a long breath. “Holy shit, I thought they were gonna plug us.”

Morrisey looked back, “Hmm, very odd. I didn’t expect him to fight us, but I certainly didn’t think he’d let you go after what his daughter told him.” He looked hard at Dunphy. “You didn’t rape her, did you?” Dunphy looked at him in disgust. Morrisey nodded, “Didn’t think so. Poor girl’s in love with you.”

“Love? She nearly killed me back there.” He rubbed the knot forming under his cut forehead.

Morrisey grinned, “A lover spurned and all that you know.”

“I didn’t spurn her. I only said see you around. Girl’s crazy.”

“Well perhaps ‘see you around’ wasn’t what she wanted to hear.”

Hooper chimed in, “She’s a real looker. Quite a catch.”

Dunphy flipped him the bird.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

By the time the group got back to the village, it was completely dark. Hooper and Dunphy were exhausted and in no shape to continue to the ridge. They decided to sleep in the village and leave first thing in the morning.

Morrisey invited them to dine with them in the center of the village. The meal was light since the following day would be one of feasting. It was still better than C-rations and by the end of the meal both men’s eyes were drooping. Captain Morrisey brought out a flask and poured them each a cup of clear liquid. “We captured this off some Jap soldiers we dispatched a couple weeks back. It’s awful stuff, but not bad in a pinch.”

Hooper smiled and took the cup as did Dunphy. “Don’t mind if I do.” Dunphy took a big gulp and nearly spurted it back out but managed to keep it down. “Damn, that’s fire.”

Hooper laughed and tipped his cup back and held it out for more. “Pussy,” he said.

Dunphy looked around the group, “Hey, where’s Welch?”

Morrisey gestured to a group of huts. “I’ve got him under house arrest until I figure out what to do with him. Probably let him go with time served.”

Dunphy looked confused. “House arrest?”

“He disobeyed my orders by going to the American line, so yes, house arrest.”

“That means he has to stay under guard in his hut then. Is that right? Can’t leave?” Morrisey nodded. Dunphy took another bite of dried lizard meat, “You just start that? The house arrest, I mean?”

Morrisey looked annoyed, “No, he’s been there all week. We’ve been delivering his food. He’s only allowed out to defecate.”

Dunphy threw an unidentifiable piece of the meat into the smoldering fire. “Then why’d I see him in Chief Ahio’s village three days ago?”

Morrisey stopped chewing. “Are you sure?” he looked to one of his men and said something in Pidgin. The man darted away towards the hut.

“Course I’m sure. How many white men are there around here? And that accent’s pretty hard to miss.”

“Tell me what you saw and heard.”

Dunphy told him he couldn’t hear nor understand anything but he did see him give one of the new carbines to Chief Ahio. He told him they seemed to want their meeting secret. “I figured Ahio didn’t want to share the guns.”

The native man came trotting back and spoke in Morrisey’s ear. Morrisey shook his head and said something else. The man trotted back the way he’d come. “Tangar checked; he’s still in his hut. He’s asleep.”

Another man trotted up and kneeled next to Morrisey. The man spoke and lowered his head. Morrisey fired off in rapid Pidgin. The man’s shoulders slumped. He stood without raising his eyes and walked away.

Morrisey shook his head, “The guards have been letting him “get his exercise” a couple of hours a day. They say he never leaves for longer than a few hours. Plenty of time to get there and back.” He looked at Dunphy and Hooper, “These men are trusting, there’s very little spite in them. I’m afraid this war will change that.”

Hooper said, “What’s going on? You think Welch is up to no good?”

Morrisey looked to the stars and rocked back and forth on his butt. Just when Hooper thought he might not have heard him he said, “Probably nothing.” He stood up and stretched, “You men should hit the rack. You’ve got to meet up with what’s left of your squad in the morning and I’ve got a busy day of mourning and celebrating some fine men’s lives.”

Dunphy held up his cup, “Think I’ll stay up and drink more of this Jap hootch if you don’t mind.”

Morrisey nodded, “Be my guest.”

Hooper clinked the hollowed out coconut cup against Dunphy’s and took a long gulp.

***

In the morning before the sun came up, Sergeant Carver and Private O'Connor sat on the edge of the jungle looking into the village. They were surprised to come upon the village without being challenged by a native. Did they feel safe because all the Japanese soldiers were defending the line against the American advance? Carver didn’t think that was Morrisey’s style; he was more careful and pragmatic than that. Carver rubbed his chin, wondering if he should go in or wait for more light. He decided another ten minutes wouldn’t hurt. He pointed to their back-trail and Hooper nodded. He moved up the trail a few yards to watch for any unwanted guests.

The twilight brought the scene to life in front of Carver. He could see the slain villagers lined up in the center. Each body had one female sitting with her head down, spending one last night with their husband, son, or father. He didn’t see any men, including his two delinquent soldiers. He gave a low whistle and O'Connor came up beside him without making a sound. Carver turned to see where he was and almost bumped into him. He shook his head,
how’d he do that?

He pointed to the women and shrugged. The men stood and left the safety of the bush. Their guns were slung, but they kept them at the ready until they figured out where everyone was. The women looked up, but didn’t rise from their vigil. The men stood over them and looked around at the sleeping village. There were some women milling around and some coming in from the wood pile to stoke the smoldering fire. Carver waved his hand in greeting and one of the older women approached him. He tried to make her understand. “Men? Where are the men?” he pointed to himself and O'Connor, “Men.” Then shrugged. She pointed to a hut, the one next to Morrisey’s and pushed him toward it. Carver knew it was the old chief’s hut. He couldn’t remember his name.

They pulled back the door and stuck their heads into the dimly lit room. The air smelled like a combination of smoke and mint. Sergeant Carver’s eyes adjusted and he saw the old chief staring at him from a chair in the far corner. Carver raised his hand and said, “Hello.”

The Chief raised his hand and stood up. He didn’t bother speaking, but grabbed Carver by the arm and led him back outside. He indicated he should follow as he led him to another hut, the same one he’d stayed in a couple nights before. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The chief extended his hand to the door and Carver went inside. This hut smelled decidedly worse than the chief’s. He took another step in and heard his boot squelch into something wet. He looked down and scowled, his boot dripping vomit. The smell assaulted him and he grit his teeth when he saw Dunphy and Hooper lying on the bare ground, snoring. Dunphy clutched an empty coconut cup.

He kicked Hooper’s foot, but he didn’t wake. He kicked harder, still no movement. He called to O'Connor still standing outside, “Get some water.”

O'Connor looked around the room and picked up what was left of the Saki, “it’s not water, but it’s wet.” He handed it to Carver who went to the mens’ heads and threw it across their faces. The men both sputtered and sat up. Dunphy grumbled, “Dammit, what the hell’s going on?” He rubbed his face. “Ah, shit, that burns dammit.” Trying to clear his vision, he said, “who the fuck did that?”

Carver put his nose to the bottle and sniffed. The alcohol was pungent. “I did, assholes. You’ve got five minutes to get your shit together and fall out of this hut.”

BOOK: The Long Patrol: World War II Novel
13.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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