Shadows In the Jungle Read Online Free Page B

to the native. Then in pidgin English, which, as a Scout, he had been required to learn, he said, “Bring em me long place kanaka.”
    The native nodded at Dove’s request to be led to the village, and the team followed him through the underbrush. After being introduced to a man their native guide said was the lulai, or chieftain, the team was greeted by gleeful children and overly friendly men who kept pounding them on the shoulder in their enthusiasm. They were also welcomed by smiling, bare-breasted women.
    â€œI’ve been out in the jungle too long,” Bauer said, reacting to the women.
    â€œAt least you know it still works,” Ray quipped. “Out here you start to wonder.”
    Offered platters of food, the team spent the morning relaxing and munching on fresh fruit. Through the interpreter, they were able to learn that the Japanese in the sector were poorly armed, and that many were sick and hungry, confirming what Dove and his men had observed.
    With the information the natives gave him, coupled with what he and his team had seen, Dove felt satisfied that his mission was accomplished. The Japanese in this sector were definitely pulling back. More important, they were not a cohesive force, but rather a sick, badly armed rabble. They would be launching no organized counterattacks.
    That conclusion reached, Dove called for the radio. After some doing, he finally made contact with an army scout plane, which relayed his request for a pickup that night back to 6th Army HQ at Hollandia.
    â€œWe’re heading back,” he told the men. “Hot showers and clean beds tomorrow.”
    Just then the interpreter approached with some of the native men.
    â€œThey are inviting you to go hunting with them,” he said.
    â€œHunting?” Hall said.
    â€œYes,” their native friend said in pidgin English. “Killim e Jap-man.”
    Turning to his men, Dove said, “They want us to go Jap hunting with them.”
    Their mission done, the team chomping at the bit for some action, they followed the hunting party into the jungle. The Americans had no success but the natives flushed one unfortunate soldier. He fled in panic as the natives chased him, caught him, and clubbed the screaming man to death.
    â€œJesus Christ,” Chapman said, simultaneously awed and repelled.
    â€œBeats the hell out of any hunting I ever saw back in Rhode Island,” Ray added.
    Following this macabre expedition, Dove and the team took leave of the village and struck off toward the coast. All were eager to get back to their base camp, nicknamed “Hotel Alamo” due to all the luxuries the Scouts’ S-4 supply officer and expert scrounger, 1st Lt. Mayo S. Stuntz, had provided for the men’s comfort.
    As darkness settled in and the Dove Team approached the pickup point, the heavens opened up and a heavy storm broke. Parts of New Guinea average as much as one hundred inches of rain a year, and to the drenched Scouts it felt as though all one hundred inches were coming down on their heads. Brisk winds kicked up the water off the beach, turning the sea into a witch’s cauldron of churning spray. The team assembled for their departure until Dove, after conversing by radio with Miller, reluctantly agreed to a twenty-four-hour postponement.
    The men spent a wet, miserable night on the beach, and their mood was not improved by the coming daylight and the return of the hot sun and sweltering humidity. As the men waited, Dove heard some natives approaching from the east and stopped them for information. They told Dove that a small group of Japanese soldiers was heading in his direction.
    Feeling his men needed a vent for their pent-up anxiety, he said, “Hey, why don’t we declare today open season on Japs.” The men stared at him.
    â€œJust follow me,” he said, and they struck off through the kunai grass and back into the jungle. Finding a spot along the coastal trail where