Free Edge of Valor by John J. Gobbell Page B

sprinted for the Mercury, opened the door, and jumped inside just before the crowd began throwing rocks at the staff cars. The first Mercury in the line rounded a corner and sped awayfrom the crowd as rocks caromed off its top and sides. Ingram spotted the silhouette of one of the Japanese looking stoically forward. Some Filipinos shook their fists; others spit.
    The MPs jumped back into the Studebaker. The sergeant pounded the cab top and yelled, “Roll ’em, Freddie.” With a clank and a grind of its gears, the truck heaved into position as the first Army vehicle behind the Mercurys. Soon they were racing through the crowds and out of the airport. They turned onto Dewey Boulevard and headed north for downtown Manila.

    The exuberance of arriving in Manila disappeared quickly. The men’s chatter stilled as the truck drove deeper into the city.
    Radcliff waved at the wreckage. “The Japs fought to the last man. The dogfaces had to go in and flush ’em out, house to house.”
    Manila had been declared secure just a month ago, on 5 July. Even then, many Japanese soldiers had taken to the jungles north of the city to continue the fight. Some of the buildings still smoked; wreckage was strewn everywhere; dust hung heavily; and a putrid odor enveloped the city. At times Ingram had to cover his nose with a handkerchief. He’d smelled that odor before. Clearly, the Filipinos had not recovered all of the bodies from the buildings the Japanese had wrecked in their withdrawal. People staggered about, coated with a grayish morbid powder, their faces covered with rags to keep out the dust and the stench.
    Ingram had lost his appetite by the time the Studebaker pulled up before the Rosario Apartments. The staff cars were parked in a neat row, and Ingram gave a thought to going inside, grabbing one of the Japanese, and wringing his neck. But that passed as he jumped down, grabbed his bag, and walked into the lobby.
    Neidemeier followed him in. “We’re bunking two to a room. The aircrews are all together, so you’re with me. Hope you don’t mind.”
    â€œNot at all, Clive. Why don’t you sign us up? I could use a shower.”
    â€œRight away, Commander.”

    The apartment had two bedrooms with a connecting bath and shower. Ingram hadn’t had a decent shower in months; the hot water didn’t work but the cold was lukewarm. It felt wonderful, and he lingered for fifteen minutes, scrubbing every pore. He stepped out, skin tingling, as Neidemeier called, “Houseboy has your uniform. It’ll be pressed and cleaned within a half hour.”
    â€œI hope he knows military pleats. Otis DeWitt is a stickler.”
    â€œDon’t I know it.”
    Twenty minutes later Ingram went down to the cocktail lounge to find DeWitt already there, pacing. He looked Ingram up and down and said, “Your shoes need shining . . . badly.”
    â€œMrs. MacArthur said she wouldn’t mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”
    â€œAnd where are your campaign ribbons?”
    â€œBack on my ship. Nobody told me I was being presented to the inspector general of the Army.”
    â€œTwo Navy Crosses and six battle stars would have impressed even General MacArthur, let alone Mrs. MacArthur.”
    â€œSorry. As I said, I didn’t know.”
    â€œCome on, I have a table waiting in the dining room. But first I want you to see something.” He led Ingram down a long hallway. They drew up to a set of double doors with four guards, each with a Thompson submachine gun slung over his shoulder. With a wink to Ingram, DeWitt said to one of the guards, a sergeant, “Everything okay?”
    â€œQuiet as a two-man funeral, sir.”
    â€œJust need to check.” DeWitt nodded to the door. The sergeant reached down and opened it a crack. DeWitt stuck in his head and then nodded to Ingram.
    Ingram looked in and saw three long tables connected in a u. There were six