The Ghost Mountain Boys - James E. Campbell [66]
While the single men dreamed of their Australian girlfriends, Gus Bailey conjured images of what it would be like when he saw Katherine again. Together, they would tour the landscapes of the West that he had admired on the train ride from Massachusetts to California. No longer, though, would it be just the two of them. Cladie Alyn Bailey, a boy, had been born only one-and-a-half months before Company G had begun its march. On the day Katherine returned from the hospital, the postman arrived at her door with a present. The postman waited as she opened the package. When Katherine pulled out an opal ring that Bailey had sent from Australia, the postman was beaming, too. A picture arrived sometime after Katherine received the present. The picture showed a proud Gus Bailey reading to his men the telegram that announced the birth of his son.
When G Company reached Ghost Mountain and the bizarre realm of the cloud forest, they were as spooked as Medendorp’s men and Company E had been. In the heavy fog, the trees—huge, moss-draped oaks and beeches—looked like apparitions. Ghost Mountain was a world all its own, where time seemed suspended in perpetual twilight. The soldiers tiptoed along a series of limestone ridges. Occasionally, a man would slip and he would hear rocks tumble into the abyss.
Two days later, Company G crossed the divide, where Major Stutterin’ Smith’s party overtook it. Though Smith was cheered by the reunion, he was appalled by the condition of Gus Bailey’s men. They looked “haggard, tired and tattered.” He wondered how he looked to them—a tall, gaunt bag of bones. How had any of them made it through the jungle and over the mountains?
General Harding had been under no illusions about the preparedness of his men, but neither he nor Smith could have anticipated the trek’s toll on them. Harding would later write, “I have no quarrel with the general thesis that the 32nd was by no means adequately trained for combat—particularly jungle combat…. Unfortunately we had no opportunity to work through a systematic program for correcting deficiencies. From February when I took over until November when we went into battle we were always getting ready to move, on the move, or getting settled after a move. No sooner would we get a systematic training program started than orders for a move came along to interrupt it…”
On October 28, Smith’s small party and Companies G and H arrived in Jaure. According to Smith, it was a day of “mud, washes and wading.” His boots were rotting off his feet. The trail from what Smith called Umi Creek to Jaure was especially grueling. Though not given to expressions of self-pity, Smith called it “torture.”
En route to Jaure was Lieutenant Robert Odell, who would later command a platoon in Company F. Only three months before, he had been the assistant military attaché in Wellington, New Zealand. Now, he was in charge of a small group of men bringing up the rear of the battalion. His team had departed the trailhead camp at Kalikodobu after Major Smith’s crew, and it was hustling now to catch up with the rest of the battalion. Odell and his men made good time, but what they saw along the trail to Jaure filled them with dismay. Piles of discarded government-issue equipment told a tale of the battalion’s ordeal.
Though Bailey was hoping to rest his troops once they reached Jaure, Boice, who was still in Jaure keeping a handle on things, informed him that Company G was to join him and Company F on the march to Natunga early the following morning. Lutjens and Company E had left for Natunga the previous day.
Prior to leaving Jaure for Natunga, Boice received a message from Colonel Quinn.
Your Msg Signed Six Forty Five Morning Two Seven Referring To Batting Average And Confidence Just Received Stop Sorry If I Have Said Anything To Raise