Joe and some fifty recruits from the Philippine Army were assembled in the village plaza. Taking turns on the concrete pad that served for the market, three lieutenants from MacArthur’s general staff had come to exhort them. Behind the soldiers the vendors waited patiently in the mud. They bent under the weight of pots, knives, sharpening wheels, orange bags of saffron, wicker baskets of fish, bottles of quinine tablets, plaster saints, bolts of Dutch cloth, cages of fighting cocks, coconut, breadfruit, green bananas, red bananas, tins of ghee, bricks of tea, coffee, cosmetics, love potions and douches. The villagers were small, brown, broadnosed: men in loincloths, women in grass shawls, babies riding hips. The previous day’s rain rose from the nipa huts in a heavy vapor redolent of jasmine, rotting fish and pig shit. Flies swam in a shaft of light. The recruits had been issued shorts and bamboo rifles. Joe wore a flat campaign hat and Sam Browne belt; the lieutenants sported white pith helmets and sharp creases.

“And he has yet to fight American and Philippine Christians. The Jap—whether Buddhist, Taoist or Hindu—regards life as cheap. His soul is his Emperor’s, not his own.”

The villagers, vendors and recruits nodded blandly. They spoke Tagalog, little Spanish, no English. Their eyes were on the teniente del barrio, the village leader. When he nodded, they nodded. In its cage a cock ruffled and settled into green iridescent feathers.

“It is your Christian duty to defend the Philippines. You recruits will be trained by the finest instructors in the American Army. They will be equipped with the most modern weapons. They will be led by the greatest general. You will be the bastion of Christian democracy in the Pacific. When the Japanese hordes descend on the Philippines, we will stop them on the beaches, we will push them back into the sea, we will sink their adventure in the bottom of Manila Bay.”

The teniente del barrio had a pet iguana on a string. Around its neck the lizard had a chain of gold with a crucifix. It raised its crest and hissed with each tug of the string, and the cross sparkled against scales.

“This American sergeant has come from a great desert over the ocean to help defend your islands. He has been especially assigned to turn your patriotic young men into a great new Philippine Army. Listen to him, obey him, follow him, and the Philippines will never fall. Thank you.”

The lieutenants stepped back. The teniente del barrio hesitated, then clapped. Everyone else clapped, so softly it sounded like rain. The lieutenants saluted. Joe saluted, and at once the recruits did, too.