Shadows In the Jungle (28 page)

To eliminate this pocket of resistance, the Americans were planning to land troops near Ormoc City on December 7, and drive to the north and cut the enemy force in two. However, 6th Army HQ needed last-minute information on Camp Downes, one of the proposed invasion areas, west of Ormoc. Reports were that the enemy had been reinforcing the area. Attempts to send in PT boats to reconnoiter had failed. A Scout team was needed.

Bill Littlefield and his men had been idle since their reconnaissance of Samar in late October, and had spent much of the past several weeks escorting General Krueger. The men and their officer were itching to go. Part of the reason for their inactivity had been because Littlefield had suffered an attack of appendicitis, and though it did not require surgery, Krueger feared Littlefield might have a flare-up in the field and that he might lose a team, since the men would never abandon their leader.

It was Doc Canfield who intervened and put Krueger's fears to rest.

“Hell, he may never get another attack,” Canfield replied when asked his opinion. “He's fine to go.”

On December 2, Littlefield was in a jeep, bouncing along a road toward the village of Baybay to check out the reports on enemy presence, and also to get some depth soundings and look for mines. With him rode team members Zeke McConnell and Alva Branson. The jouncing trip took ten hours, but the three men soon arrived at Baybay on the west coast of Leyte, where Littlefield recruited local fishermen to deliver him and his men behind enemy lines, some thirty miles to the north, by canoe.

Gliding along the water, the canoes stayed well offshore—the natives did not want to risk getting too close—while Littlefield took notes. As the natives paddled, they pointed out to Littlefield the locations of mines and obstacles, and described the slope of the beach, all of which Littlefield relayed back to his headquarters. The information he gathered aided greatly in the invasion five days later, and by December 11 Ormoc fell to the Americans.

* * *

Lt. Rafael M. Ileto, a native Filipino, was happy to be back home. A member of the ASTC's fifth class, which had graduated on October 28 at Cape Kassoe, at Hollandia, New Guinea, he was about to lead his team, Sgts. Fredirico Balambao, Paul E. Draper, James Farrow Jr., and Peter Vischansky, and Cpl. Estanislao S. Bacat, into their first mission.

Accompanied by Lt. Marion Myers of the ASTC staff, the team boarded a navy J-boat on December 8 from the newly established ASTC camp at Abuyog, near the mouth of the Cadacan River on central west Leyte.

Sixth Army HQ wanted to know what the enemy was up to near Balangiga on the southern coast of Samar. Ileto and his team landed at Guiuan, just west of Balangiga, where they were met by guerrillas and led to their camp near the town of Salcedo. Natives rowed the Scouts by sea to Balangiga, where they reconnoitered the shoreline. Ileto also interviewed locals, from whom he discovered that some 250 Japanese were concentrating in the hills five miles north of the city. Enemy patrols frequently raided the towns, terrorizing the inhabitants.

By December 14, six days after setting out, Ileto had assessed Japanese strength, as well as the strength and capabilities of the guerrillas, and returned to base.

Two days before Ileto returned, newly commissioned 2nd Lt. Herman S. Chanley and his team left on their first mission. Chanley, formerly of the Hobbs Team until his promotion, departed on December 12, landing near the town of Pawikan. There he established a radio station and OP and sent back reports on enemy movements in Carigara Bay and Biliran Strait.

Chanley's return on December 20 marked the end of Alamo Scout operations on Leyte.

CHAPTER 11

 

 

 

 

L
t. Robert Sumner and his men had the honor of performing both the shortest and one of the longest missions ever done by an Alamo Scout team, both within two months.

On October 22, 1944, an L-5 Piper Cub flying from an offshore aircraft carrier to American lines on Leyte was in serious trouble. Coming in low over Samar, the westernmost island of the Visayan chain, just northeast across the half-mile-wide San Juanico Strait, the plane's sixty-five-horsepower engine struggled to keep the 640-pound aircraft aloft. Outside, the moonless night made it black as the devil's soul. Straining, the pilot saw the dim form of a landmass on the water below. According to his charts, this had to be Samar.

Lowering the scout plane, the pilot, a sergeant who flew for an ad hoc messenger unit called the Guinea Short Line, brought the nose up gently and set the wheels down. Moments later, the
Grasshopper
, as the small plane was nicknamed, rolled to a halt. The pilot radioed his position, thanked God when he got a “Roger,” and cut the laboring engine.

Now the army courier had a bigger problem. In a satchel on the seat beside him was a six-inch-thick notebook filled with the complete field orders for the 14th Corps, including the tactical and logistical plans for each division: times, dates, troop movements, locations, and unit strengths—in short, the works. The idea had been to deliver the document to 6th Army headquarters, and not to the Japanese on Samar. Capture of the plan could jeopardize the entire Leyte operation.

The sergeant had arranged to be picked up by a PT boat on the coast. However, there was a very high risk of meeting Japanese, both while on his way to the coast and while awaiting the arrival of the rescue boat. Not willing to risk that the plan would fall into enemy hands if he himself did, the pilot stepped off some distance, made a mental note, and buried the satchel in the earth.

Then he struck off for the coast.

* * *

Seven days after the L-5 went down, Colonel Bradshaw summoned Red Sumner to his tent.

“Red, you and your team draw up a plan quickly,” Bradshaw said. “I'm sending you over to Samar. Seven days ago, a Piper Cub headed for corps headquarters was forced to land due to engine trouble. The sergeant flying it brought the plane down in a coconut grove somewhere near the village of Balangiga.”

Bradshaw pointed to a location on the island, just across the Gulf of Samar from where they now were.

Sumner asked the nature of the documents. Bradshaw told him.

“Jesus,” Sumner moaned.

“Exactly,” Bradshaw said. “The pilot buried the documents in a B4 bag, in case he got captured, and made his way to Legaspi, then by PT boat to Tacloban and Sixth Army HQ. This is high-priority. You'll go as soon as you assemble your team. I've commandeered a picket boat from one of the engineer regiments to take you across the gulf. Sorry it's in broad daylight, but it can't be helped.”

“How will we find the plane and the bag?”

“The pilot will be going with you,” Bradshaw said. “This should be quick in and quick out. The skipper of the picket boat figures he can get you across the gulf in thirty minutes.”

Sumner studied the map and aerial photos spread out on Bradshaw's table.

“It might be wise, so we don't draw attention to the village, that the boat approach the island here, about two miles to the west. Then we can cruise along the shore to here,” he said and pointed. “That will put us just half a mile from Balangiga.”

Bradshaw and Sumner agreed that while the team would take a radio with them, they would break radio silence with headquarters only to confirm landing and to announce their departure.

Sumner hurried back to get his men ready. Sticking his head in the squad tent, he said, “Saddle up. We've got a quick in-and-out job.” He looked around and saw one man missing. “Where's Renhols?”

“He took some clothes to the dry cleaner,” Blaise replied.

“You guys didn't throw his shit out in the street again, did you?” Sumner asked, a smile creasing his lips.

The team joke was how the ex-drill instructor and ever-neat Blaise, who somehow managed to look well-pressed even after coming in from the jungle, got fed up with Renhols's slovenliness and, along with Paul Jones and Harry Weiland, had gathered up all of Renhols's clothes one day and threw them out into the company street. When Renhols returned, Blaise told him, “You can live in the street until you get your stuff in order.”

Renhols apologized to the team and kept his things neat from then on.

“No, sir,” Blaise told Sumner.

“Well, get him back here at the double quick. We need to shove off.”

* * *

The trip to Samar was unopposed. Rowing in from two hundred yards offshore, the team's noontime landing went smoothly. As directed, Sumner had Bill Blaise fire up the radio to announce their arrival, “Red One,” which was acknowledged by Bradshaw's laconic “Roger.”

Sumner left one man to guard the boat, then headed inland with the flier and the Scout team. The terrain was generally open and cultivated, with no evidence of any people, friend or foe. After a walk of about half a mile, the Scouts saw the L-5 sitting near a clapboard schoolhouse built among a number of coconut palms. He had managed to land among the trees without striking any.

“Jesus Christ,” the pilot sighed. “It was pitch-dark when I landed. I didn't even see the damned trees or the school.”

“You're one lucky bastard, Sergeant,” Sumner said.

The Scouts spent the next fifteen minutes observing the plane for any signs of an ambush, but the only sound was the buzzing of insects and the lazy offshore breeze rustling the palm leaves. Keeping the pilot by his side, Sumner and the team advanced. As they reached the plane, Sumner stationed the men around it. Then he, the pilot, and one team member headed for where the bag was buried a few hundred feet from the aircraft. After some initial difficulty getting his bearings, the courier led the Scouts to the hiding place.

“I didn't realize I was this close to the beach,” he said, spotting the ocean a few hundred feet away.

The bag was recovered intact. They returned to the plane, where the pilot removed several key engine parts, rendering it useless to the enemy. Sumner, meanwhile, ordered the school and some nearby houses searched. The men discovered a stash of Japanese military documents, including papers that showed the area to be a staging point for barge and light naval traffic along the coast of Samar en route to Leyte and Mindanao.

The Scouts also found some personal gear, mostly uniforms and equipment. They took possession of several thin blankets, a mixture of wool and silk, which the men found very warm, yet light, and practically indestructible. They used these until the end of the war.

When Sumner was satisfied that the Scouts had thoroughly searched the buildings, he directed Blaise to notify the picket boat skipper to recover the rubber boat and man he had left there, and then put in at a rickety pier built out from the shore near where the bag had been buried. The men were back on the boat by three p.m.

The mission had lasted just three hours.

* * *

During late October the American effort on Leyte was hampered by severe weather, including a major typhoon, that created serious problems for the navy in its efforts to support the invasion with reinforcements and supplies. These problems were multiplied onshore by bad roads and worse terrain. To resist the Americans, the Japanese began reinforcing the Leyte garrison from other islands with the intent of launching a major counteroffensive. Sixth Army headquarters was aware of the enemy plan, thanks to the guerrillas, and knew it had to eliminate the Japanese threat on Leyte. The key to this was Ormoc Bay, located on Leyte's west coast, where the Japanese had established a main supply base. To guarantee success, coordinating activities with the local guerrillas was a necessity, as was supplying them with sufficient arms and ammo to disrupt the enemy. It was decided that an Alamo Scout team would work with the guerrillas, and for that, Bob Sumner got the call.

Back just eight days after retrieving the satchel of secret documents on Samar, Sumner and his men found themselves on a PT boat on the evening of November 5, heading for a landing that night at Palompan. Shortly after setting out, however, the PT boat was recalled to Tanauan to await further instructions.

“The reason we scrubbed the mission,” Sumner was informed by Lt. Col. Frank Rowalle of 6th Army G2, who boarded the PT boat the next morning to meet with Sumner, “is that the Nips landed a sizable force in Palompan the night before, and the entire town is completely in enemy hands. The guerrillas in that area have fallen back into the bush rather than fight the Japs and put the twenty thousand civvies living there in even more danger.”

Rowalle rolled a map out on the PT's superstructure.

“What we're gonna do instead, Red, is you're gonna leave tomorrow night in the company of two other PTs to provide extra cover, go north, around Leyte, and land at Abijao, about thirty miles from your objective. The guerrillas under Major Nazareno will meet you there. Your recognition signal at Abijao, as usual, will be your nickname, ‘Red,' which they will flash to you by Morse code. You make no reply. We don't want the Japs spotting your light flashing out on the water. Instead, you will approach shore. If you fail to make contact, expect to return at the same time for the next two nights. You'll take in some arms and ammo—the guerrillas are short of both. If you need more supplies, we can arrange for airdrops as needed. You will, of course, monitor all Jap land and sea movements. Plan to stay in the bush until we order you out, a few weeks at least, so equip yourself and your men accordingly.”

Loaded down with two tons of weapons and ammo, plus a three-man Filipino radio team and their equipment from the Philippine Message Center, the PT boat left Tacloban Bay, cruising across the San Juanico Strait between Leyte and Samar after dark to avoid Japanese aircraft. As he guided his boat across the black water, the PT skipper was contacted by radio and told that the two other boats assigned to provide him support for the mission were being detached and sent elsewhere.