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Authors: Clifton La Bree

A Song For Lisa

A
S
ong
 For
L
isa

 

A Novel By
Clifton La Bree

© 2004 by Author -
Clifton La Bree

Published by
Fading Shadows Imprint
New Boston, New Hampshire
TheLaBreeFamily.com

EBOOK
ISBN: 978-1-943329-07-6
       Paper Back
ISBN: 978-0-9746450-7-0

 

Cover by Vivian
LaBree
Back Ground Photo By  Michael LaBree

 

No parts of this book may be used or
reproduced without written permission from the publisher except brief
quotations of critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The
characters and incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or
persons is entirely coincidental.

A story of courage that is a tribute
to the human spirit. This novel is fictional, but descriptions of the Japanese
treatment of prisoners' of war during World War II is factual. The courage and
resourcefulness of the US army’s Rangers is typical of their daring exploits
throughout the war.

Chapter One

SECRET

FROM: Sixth Army Headquarters,
Hollandia, New Guinea.

TO: First Lieutenant Jonathon
Wright, Commanding Officer Ranger Platoon, Code-Name
Snapdragon
.

SUBJECT: Urgent change of orders.

New intelligence has arrived at
this command making it imperative that your previous orders be canceled.
Repeat, previous orders are canceled. Your new orders are as follows:

1.
     
Maintain code name
Snapdragon
.

2.
     
The USS Submarine
Tigerfish
,
on which you and your thirty-five men are now embarked, will insert you on the
northeastern coast of Lingayen Gulf at a point given to Captain Turner.

3.
     
Your assault platoon
of Rangers will be met by a Filipino guerrilla patrol at 2100 Hours on the
evening of January 5, 1945.

4.
     
You are ordered to
link up with the Filipino patrol and advance inland approximately ten miles
under the cover of darkness to a prison compound located at an old sugar cane
plantation south of Baguio. Urgent intelligence indicates that the inmates, and
women and children are in grave danger of being massacred!

5.
     
The assault on Luzon
is planned for 0600 Hours on January 9, 1945. It is imperative that you secure
the prison compound and move the prisoners back along the same route so that
the submarine can pick them up prior to the assault on Luzon.

6.
     
Memorize this message
and burn in the presence of Captain of USS
Tigerfish
.

Lieutenant General Walter Kreuger

Commanding General Sixth Army.

Lieutenant Jonathon Wright read the message twice before
handing it back to the tall, slender captain of the USS
Tigerfish
. “What
do you make of it, Captain?” he asked, concerned that the well-rehearsed
mission he and his men had been preparing for was canceled at the last minute.

“A number of long-range penetration missions in the
Philippine Islands have been assigned to your Rangers,” said Captain Turner.
“The intelligence gathering services of MacArthur’s Far East command has been
efficient and reliable. My orders were changed at the same time. I have new
coordinates for the point of land where you’ll pick up the Filipino patrol.
Your radioman can make contact with the sub at any time between 2100 and 2400
hours when we’ll be running on the surface charging our batteries. If you get
no answer from us it’s because we’re in danger of being discovered. Be patient
and give us a little time to relocate before surfacing.”

“I understand that, sir,” answered the studious Ranger
officer, still uncomfortable with the change in orders. “If the prisoners are
sickly and weak, which is a very likely situation, how will we be able to
transport them back to the coast?”

Captain Turner answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “Some
of the partisans might be able to provide water buffalo carts for those unable
to walk. We’re at the end of the command chain, Lieutenant. I’m sure Sixth Army
had just cause to alter your mission. They have more information than we do.”

“The thing I like the least about this change is that
success hinges on the performance of someone who’s a stranger to us,” Jonathon
said, removing his Zippo lighter from his shirt pocket to burn the crumpled
message in an ash tray on the wardroom table.

“You have a few hours to review this with your men,
Lieutenant,” announced Captain Turner, checking his watch. “We’re on course to
the rendezvous point for your contact with the partisans. We’ll have you ashore
shortly after 2100 hours. There’ll be a full moon tonight.”

“That suits me fine. The risk of discovery is greater with the
added light, but we can travel faster and easier in unknown territory. I’ll
prepare the men. Thanks for everything, Captain Turner. I’m going to miss this
cozy wardroom and your excellent coffee,” he smiled.

“I wish you and your Rangers the best of luck, Lieutenant.
You're making us all proud. The kind of humanitarian mission ahead of you
separates the United States Army from the armies of the rest of the world.
We’ll be waiting for your return with open arms and a full complement of fresh
brewed coffee!”

Lieutenant Jonathon Wright finished his coffee and left the
wardroom. He was of medium height and build with sandy hair that always seemed
uncombed. His expressive brown eyes could register sorrow and happiness in a
single blink. He was a quiet studious young man. Most people liked him, yet he
frequently kept to himself and selected his friends with care. Even though he
was not as heavy or strong as many of the men in his command, there was an
inner strength and conviction that made people feel at ease with him. He did
not command his platoon, he led it by example with deep appreciation and
consideration for the welfare of the men. They were inspired by his calm
demeanor and would follow him anywhere. He had won their respect and affection
which was a difficult juggling act for an officer to do. He never asked the men
to do anything he would not do himself. His willingness to go to bat for them
when he felt they were not getting fair treatment always placed him on the side
of the angels. Most who knew Jonathon would describe him as a stable and
dependable young man who did what he said he would do without fanfare.

Jonathon was a graduate of the University of New Hampshire
where he took advantage of the Reserve Officer Training Corps program to help
pay his way through college. He had married his high school sweetheart from
Monson, Maine, half way through college in 1939. Upon graduation with a degree
in criminology June of 1941, he was offered a second lieutenant commission in
the army. A full-time job as an officer had much appeal to him, especially the
weekly paycheck. He was twenty-two years old when the war started.

Jonathon crouched to get through the small passage doors of
the submarine making his way to the compartment where his men and their
equipment were located. They were packed into the confined quarters of the
submarine in and around the deadly gray torpedoes. He was worried. There were
too many unknowns beyond his ability to control. How many Japanese were
guarding the prison compound? How many prisoners were at the compound? What was
their physical condition? A large body of people had more of a chance to be
discovered by the Japanese. The Rangers were a lightly armed infantry unit with
limited means of maintaining prolonged contact with the enemy.

Jonathon was assured that the maps of the area he possessed
were detailed and accurate. It was relatively flat land near the coastal plain
which made travel easy. A few miles inland the terrain undulated with streams,
swamps and jungle that could eliminate the possibility of using native carts to
transport to the coast those inmates unable to walk. Existing cart tracks and
trails would be dangerous for them to use because the Japanese could control
most of them. The prospect of leading a large ponderous train of liberated
prisoners through enemy held territory sent shivers through Jonathon’s body,
but orders were meant to be obeyed.

Second Lieutenant Hal Jacobs, second in command of
Snapdragon
,
was a tall muscular man with dark complexion and deep-set eyes. There was
something ominous about him that grabbed a person’s attention. His physical
presence could be intimidating until he smiled, which was often. The grin
brought out the easy going boyish nature in him that endeared him to the men.
He never took himself seriously. A recent graduate of West Point Military
Academy, he was anxious to do his part in winning the war. Jacobs had a
pathological hatred for the Japanese. He read the look on Jonathon’s face and
expected to hear bad news.

“What’s wrong, Jon?”

“Take a seat, Hal,” suggested Jonathon, waving his arms for
the men to gather around and listen. He spelled out the contents of their new
orders. A low moan of disappointment filled the compartment. “I know what
you’re thinking, men. I had the same reaction, but it’s a mission that we’ve
been handed and we’ll just have to make the best of it and carry it out. I want
each of you to recheck your gear and mentally prepare yourselves for the task
ahead of us. You’ve had the best training of any outfit in the United States
combat services. I’m confident in your ability to adapt to any situation in
which we find ourselves. Our original mission was to blow up strategic rail
bridges to help isolate the beachhead. Now we won’t need the demolition
material. We can leave it behind on the submarine.”

“Should we stock up on extra food rations, sir?” asked a
voice from the top bunks.

“Smart thinking, soldier,” replied Jonathon. “My thoughts
are that we should make the initial drive inland loaded with extra ammo and
grenades. Our radio man can contact our air coordinator for a drop of extra
foodstuff if we need it. We also have the option of calling for close air
support if it’s absolutely necessary. I prefer remaining as elusive and
invisible as possible until we get to the compound.”

“What if carts aren’t available to transport sick and
injured prisoners?” asked a young soldier, sitting on the deck cleaning his M-1
Garand rifle. Jonathon looked at the young corporal and marveled at the youth
of his command, which varied from seventeen to twenty-two. The average age was
eighteen.

“I can’t answer that, corporal. It’s one of the unknowns
we’ll have to overcome as we go along. I assume that the Filipino partisans
will be able to fill us in on matters like that. They’ll also be able to
describe the compound to us.” Jonathon checked his watch and paused.

“Will we have time for chow before we leave the sub?”
someone asked.

“Yes. The captain has assured me that the galley will stuff
us full before we leave,” Jonathon smiled. “If I had the room to carry it I’d
bring along several thermos bottles of coffee, but so much for wishful
thinking. Spend the rest of your time preparing for the mission by resting.
Write home if you want. Leave the letters in the mailroom bins in the wardrooms.
Men, this will be our first combat mission together and I feel confident that
it’ll be a success. In the years to come you’ll be able to tell your
grandchildren how you helped to liberate the Philippine Islands. We’ll be the
vanguard of the army that General MacArthur promised would return. You’ll have
plenty of time to gear up so relax as much as you can. Any questions?”

“This is our first mission with you, sir,” said a short
stocky man from Maine. He put into words what each man was thinking. “I know that
you’ll be worrying about a lot of things. I just wanted to let you know that no
matter how tough it gets out there, we’re with you one hundred percent. When
the Japs meet this platoon, they’re taking on the first team and they’ll soon
find out why we call ourselves the best.”

A resonant cry of approval echoed from stem to stern on the
submarine. Jonathon left the torpedo room with a broad smile on his lips and a
warm glow in his heart. He had successfully bonded with the men and he had no
reservations about their ability to close with the enemy.

Two hours later, a loud voice sounded over the submarine’s
intercom system. “This is Captain Turner speaking. We are approaching the
northwestern shore of Lingayen Gulf. We will be discharging the Army Rangers within
the hour in our inflatable rafts. They are some of the first Americans to enter
occupied Luzon Island. Their mission is to rescue American prisoners now held
by the Japanese and to escort them back to the coast where we’ll pick them up.
They embark on a dangerous mission filled with unknowns and leave with our best
wishes and fervent prayers for success.

“They’ve earned our admiration and respect. May the angels
guide them back to the
Tigerfish
. Godspeed Rangers. We’ll surface in ten
minutes and proceed as close to the shore as the tide permits.”

Jonathon and the men checked their weapons one last time.
Their ammunition belts were filled to capacity. A grim silence filled the sub
as the squad leaders checked each man. The platoon was composed of three squads
of eleven men each. The single file they formed wound in and around all of the
torpedo compartments.

When the submarine surfaced, interior lights were turned off
and replaced with dim red lamps to make the craft as invisible from prying eyes
as possible. Sailors scurried from the conning tower and pulled the rubber
inflatable rafts from the hull’s hatches. As soon as they were inflated, the
sailors lined them up on the deck.

The Rangers received word to load the rafts and began
passing packs up through the small openings of the hatches. It took a while for
the men to adjust to the darkness. The full moon was visible in the western sky
making the evening surprisingly light after they got used to it. Lieutenants
Jacobs and Jonathon checked each boat and whispered encouragement to the men.
The two sailors in each boat would return to the submarine once they had
delivered the Rangers on land. Jonathon signaled with a raised fist for the
submarine to submerge enough for the boats to become buoyant. The heavily
loaded inflatables slowly began their journey to the enemy shore as the
submarine dove out of sight.

Each man was left alone with his fears and anxieties. Fear
was not altogether a bad emotion. In life-threatening situations it brought
each person to the highest degree possible of alertness. They wondered if the
enemy was waiting for them as soon as they stepped foot on shore. The island
had over a half million Japanese soldiers, well dug in to repel any invasion
from the Americans. Experience had shown the invading Americans just how
stubbornly the Japanese defended their occupied territory to the last man
alive.

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