Warriors in the Crossfire by Nancy Bo Flood

Author:Nancy Bo Flood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boyds Mills Press

COURAGE

Old turtle,

Little crab,

Where should I go?

Where can I hide?

One week passed. No word about anyone: not my father, not Ignacio. Nothing.

The buzz of airplanes became part of our world. Planes streaked low and spat out fire, stinking the air with black fumes. Ships—steel sharks—appeared along the horizon and waited. In our village there was no food. There were more soldiers. To the south, explosions sent orange smoke toward us. We could smell war.

Suddenly, the soldiers left. We could think of no good reason for this. Their absence felt stranger than their presence. Soon new soldiers patrolled the beach but only at night during curfew. These replacements were strangers and marched with straight backs, eyes narrowed as they scanned the shoreline. Were they looking for enemy soldiers or spies from our village? Their hands gripped rifles. They did not speak, but they were no older than my classmates.

Each day I became bolder. We needed food. I took Taeyo with me to secret places to show him where to dig taro. I told him, “Remember this place.”

“Why, Uncle Joe?”

“Remember it, Taeyo. See it in your mind so you can find it.”

The women gathered, anxiously talked more openly—in front of the closed church, the boarded-up stores, even in the middle of the road in front of the patrols. Who had news of the men? Was it true that the Japanese had guns longer than coconut trees? Had the other islanders, the Chamorros, even the priests and holy sisters been taken as prisoners … or put to death! Could that be? Someone had seen many planes marked with the round red sun of Japan, flying low, burning, falling from the sky. Was that possible? The women chewed every splinter of news like starving dogs gnawing on bones.

Then news came from a surprise visitor. I had wandered far from the village toward town to gather healing leaves from a special vine. “In case we need medicine for wounds,” my mother had instructed. I had followed the shoreline and began to feel uneasy. Someone was following me, someone who didn’t want to be seen.

I left the open beach and took a shortcut back home, a path that led through heavy foliage.

“Joseph.”

I turned.

“Don’t be alarmed. I am here as a friend.”

“Sensei!”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I waited until we would not be noticed.”

I had forgotten my manners and quickly bowed. “I … I hope you are well.”

“Listen carefully, Joseph. I must return to Garapan before my absence is noticed.”

“But—”

“No, just listen. Last week a major air battle was fought and lost. Soon many American planes will begin bombing.”

“Bombing? I don’t understand.”

“Bombing this island. Saipan is strategic to the American military, one island closer to their invasion of Japan.” Sensei’s eyes never stopped glancing and searching.

“Please, Joseph, tell no one you saw me here. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” The rumors were true. Burning planes had fallen from the sky.

“After bombing the beaches, the Americans will invade. Go somewhere away from the sea, far from the shore. The first battles will be fought along the shoreline.

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