The Long Patrol by Chris Glatte

Author:Chris Glatte [Glatte, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chris Glatte
Published: 2016-08-23T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The men spent the night on the ridge. As darkness enveloped them, Carver thought about the men he’d lost. Out of the twelve that started he only had four left. This mission was fucked up the moment they stepped out of the 164th division’s shadow.

The original mission to bring the natives together as an effective guerrilla force wasn’t happening. He picked mud out from under his fingernails, hell, Morrisey’s got ‘em better off than we ever could. They’d probably win the war by themselves if they were left to it.

He remembered hearing Welch’s crazy idea to launch an attack toward the mountains where he said a large number of Japs were. He’d been ignored and as far as he could tell there was no such Japanese force. If there was they’d be in amongst them on this ridge. He wondered about that. He’d have to bring it up to Welch when he saw him again. If I see him again. Morrisey didn’t seem too pleased with him. He wondered if he’d suddenly disappear. He didn’t think Morrisey operated that way. He was usually a pretty good judge of character, but he’d been wrong before.

He lay down and tried to get some sleep, but the vision of Lieutenant Caprielli’s body in pieces, scattered across the ridge kept popping into his head. He’d never had nightmares or been affected by death, but there was something about the Lieutenant’s torn up body that was keeping him awake. Maybe it was the stupid way he died, jumping around like some high school cheerleader. What the fuck was he thinking?

He sat up grabbed his carbine and crawled to the nearest hole. O’Connor whispered, “Who goes there? Identify.”

“It’s me, numbnuts.”

“Sorry Sarge. What are you doing here? It’s not time to switch.”

He crawled into the hole with him and looked out over the valley below. The occasional flash from a distant gun in the jungle made the battleground almost beautiful. There was a sliver of a moon and its glow made the distant ocean glimmer. Carver thought he could see the shape of a navy ship’s silhouette, but he was probably imagining things. “I can’t sleep. I’ll take your watch. I was going to be your relief so I’ll take two shifts.” He put his big hand on O’Connor’s shoulder, “Go get some sleep, Son.”

O’Connor nodded and crawled back the way Carver had come. He was glad for the early call; he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

***

When morning came the men tore into c-rations and had breakfast. They were stiff and groggy. Sergeant Carver wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Hooper tore open a hard D-bar and tried to tear off a chunk. The thing looked like a hard hunk of shit. It was supposed to be chocolate, but tasted like bitter cocoa. Its one attribute was its high calorie count. The villagers had been supplementing their rations with rice and dried meats, but now they were back to their C-rats and D-bars.

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