Jap stragglers were all through the area covered, and he had to try and protect the driver and tractor from them, which was a tough assignment since the noise of the motor would drown out the sound of Jap rifle fired at even close range. The Japs might easily get more than one shot at the men before they would even know they were in danger. I know, because one took a shot at me when I was going up and I still do not know in what direction he was, although I heard both the bullet and, faintly, the report of the rifle.
[...]
Only those few men pulling and pushing levers on the jolting, sliding tractors kept the ammunition and food moving up. They sure did not keep any union hours, either. I often wondered what the people at home would feel if they knew just how thin the string was that held us together.
[...]
Quite a few tents were up, since they could be dropped from planes without damage.
[...]
While we were carrying our belongings into the tent, three or four soldiers came down the trail and passed us, heading back, all leading huge dogs. I asked a trooper standing by what the idea was and he said “Oh, those are the war dogs — they’re takin’ ‘em back because the country’s too rough for ‘em.” Nice place we had come to.
[...]
A hospital had been set up, with three or four tents and cots for maybe 50 men, and a kitchen was running, serving hot food to everyone around. This kitchen was important. When a man had been up in the line too many days on cold rations and got sick or just played out, he would be sent back here to “guard rations” one, two or three days. Actually, it was a chance to relax and sleep in a straight line and get a few hot meals. The men would get some of their strength back then we would see them going back up one morning with the ration pack train.
The rations went from here on the backs of Filipino carriers because only men could navigate the trails from here on. They worked in pairs either carrying their load on a pole sling or one walking empty-handed until his partner got tired. Some were young boys, some almost old men. Every age and class of person was represented. They were hired, or perhaps rounded up is a better expression, by the guerrillas, who usually acted as guards along the trails. It was terrible labor to handle some of the items, such as C-ration cases or cases of pistol ammunition, and often some of the men would want to quit. The guerrillas did not let them. Remember, some of the paths went almost straight up and down and it was necessary to use ropes and vines to assist ascent and descent and always the footing was slippery clay or mud. The trip up and back required about nine or ten hours, allowing for a short rest at the front end.
A lot of rations were flown in to us a week or so later when transport planes reached the island. Delivery was fast — a crew member just kicked the boxes out the open door of the airplane as it flew over, 200 or 300 feet up. Cargo parachutes were tried a few times on medical equipment, but did not do so well. Chutes tore, or did not open, so they just went back to throwing stuff out and hoping it would hit a bush or small tree to break the fall. Attempts were made to drop rations right at the line, but the Japs got half of them and the men up there could not hunt through the brush for the boxes. Also, a couple of guys got hurt by boxes landing on them, so it was decided to keep up the packtrains, which had to handle the ammunition anyway.
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The ambulance is for my money the best army wheeled vehicle for going places. I have seen them go through mud and rough country that jeeps, weapons-carriers and six-by-sixes could not pass.
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The unusual point or feature about this camp was that there was absolutely no guard system. Each man was his own perimeter, so to speak, and kept his rifle or carbine within reach at all times. You ate with your gun across your lap. The only time we kept an all-night guard was once when a Filipino reported he had seen several Japs dressed as Filipinos prowling around about a half mile away. That night the Filipinos were warned not to move at all after dark and we decided to shoot completely on suspicion.
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The banks and bed of this one were composed entirely of smooth boulders and the water was clear, clean and cold, perfect for bathing. Soldiers in the Pacific were always looking for decent places for a bath. A lot of water was bad — carrying infections and diseases. The sole objection to this stream was that a would-be Jap sniper liked to haunt it. He would take a shot at somebody every afternoon. He did not hit anybody while I was there, but it was annoying. We kept on using the same spots, for after all, it was a swell place for a bath.
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The troop armorers as a rule were not much good at anything except cleaning guns and replacing broken parts which were obviously out of kilter, but a few of them became expert by their own interest and study of weapons.
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Most of the men from the foxholes stopped in at our tent on their way to or from the line. They really appreciated our being up there and we appreciated their appreciating us, if you get what I mean. We did no sloppy jobs, for our hearts were really in our work. When a man asked for a carbine or an M1, we would go over all we had and give him our best, with whatever we had in the way of patches, oil, extra magazines or other helps.
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The M1’s were going to ruin for lack of cleaning in the holes up front — the poor guys did not have anything to take care of them with, and often were not in a position to shoot them often enough to keep the barrels clear of corrosion (grass won’t grow on a busy street — regardless of the corroding primer compound, if a .30-06 barrel gets a bullet through it every six or eight hours it will stay in pretty good shape).
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We happened to have an almost new rifle to give him, so after he changed the rear sights he felt all right. He had filed the top of his original aperture out into a large open V and wanted to keep it. Said he had killed eight Japanese all within 50 feet, in bad light, and did not need or want an aperture rear sight. He would not use anything except the rifle, as he considered the extra penetration he could get compensated for the weight. Most men wanted carbines as they could be carried so much easier than the M1, but the boys who really wanted to kill Nips liked the rifles. “Kill ‘em through trees,” was their story.
[...]
The Thompsons were only popular in the jungle, where a fast spray-effect was desired. Much of the Philippine fighting was in comparatively open country or rough mountain terrain where the submachine gun was heavy to carry and not too effective.