My dad was in the Air Force in the 50’s, and our family was stationed on Guam. The military was still busy clearing out the jungle on the island from WWR II. When new families arrived on the island, they were told that it was not a good idea to go out into the jungle because you could find live ammunition laying on the ground.

My brothers and I along with several of our friends like to use the jungle for our own play ground and we would play hide and seek during the day, and sometimes even at night. We usually did not stray far from the edge of the base, but there were times that we became so involved we found ourselves further than we had planned.

One night, we decided we would play tag, and headed for the jungle in an area that we thought we were familiar with, and divided up into two teams. There were 4 boys on each team ranging in age from 5 to 8 years.

One team took off with the second team trying to find the first in the dense jungle. We all had flashlights, and we would spend several hours romping through the jungle laughing and hollering at each other, having fun. Now days families would never think of allowing their sons of that age to play like this by themselves in the jungle. Back then, no one thought much of it.

That night we were running around looking for the first team not having a lot of success. It had been some time since they had left us and we were about to give up when we spotted their lights and gave chase. Down the paths, we ran toward them, hollering and waving our lights in the air, letting them know we were headed their way.

They took off down a new path, and we took chase. We were gaining on them and had run 500 feet when suddenly we heard them start screaming, not hollering, but screaming, and they came back toward us. Eight boys, all colliding at the same time. Four moving forward and four moving in the opposite direction. Team one was trying to crawl over us, and past us, and the look on their face told they were scared.

Them someone hollered skeletons, and we all started running in the same direction, home. We ran home and busted through the door hollering that we had found several skeletons in the jungle. At first our mom laughed at us and told us we were being funny, but our dad saw the look on our faces.

He called base security, and they asked us to take them back to the location. We showed them the spot. Turned out, the skeletons were four Japanese’s solders, who had died there on the island. Good thing we had left the area before inspecting the dead skeletons. Their weapons were still there as well as old grenades that could have gone off if we had tried to touch them.

For days after this, the military were in the area cleaning it out of all the WWR II activity so that we would not get hurt. Much to their surprise, even after they left we had new surprises for them. They would be back, in force.

It wasn’t until years later after the Vietnam War, that I started to think about the fact that until eight little boys came across those three skeletons in the jungle. The families of those Japaneses solders had no idea what had happen to there sons or fathers. Interesting how lives can intersect without us even knowing about it.