“And that isn’t all. We were high on a reef, within rock-throwing distance of an enemy shore. I had to know if those lights we could see came from a Japanese camp, so I armed ten of us with machine guns and grenades and we slipped over the side. “We found a little village. Somebody had been there, but had run off as we approached, so we decided to search farther. This type of warfare was different from the one the crew was used to, and everybody was ill at ease.” It is interesting to note that by inference the sailors were _not_ “ill at ease” in the type of warfare they had just been subjected to. “One of the sailors was almost strangled by what he thought was a low-hanging vine, but we found it was a telephone wire leading to a small hut. We crept close to the hut and listened. No good. Japanese! “We cut the wire and returned to the safety of our reef.” Again, consider the character of sailors who talk about the “safety” of a shattered boat, filled with dead and wounded shipmates, stranded on a rock in the midst of history’s greatest naval battle and within pistol range of an enemy shore. “We expected that wire-cutting bit would stir up some Jap patrols, so we made ourselves into a Little Gibraltar with all the weapons we could scrape together—and on a PT boat that is plenty of weapons.” Lieut. Brown tells of settling down to enjoy the unaccustomed role of spectator at a battle. Through the night the crew watched the flash and glare of gunfire and exploding ships up the straits. “We couldn’t tell who was faring best. Through binoculars we could see ships afire and sinking, but we couldn’t tell if they were Japanese or American. Long before dawn the eastern sky looked like sunrise, because of the orange glow of burning ships. “When day did break we saw natives creeping back to their village, so we waved and yelled ‘_Americanos_’ and ‘_Amigos_’ and friendly stuff like that. They finally believed us and waded out to our boat where the sailors set about their eternal bargaining for souvenirs. I believe an American sailor would bargain with a cannibal tribe while they’re putting him into the pot. “One of the crew yelled and pointed out to sea. Three PTs were roaring up the straits in broad daylight and we could see what they were after—it was the crippled cruiser _Mogami_, trying to limp home after the fight. “I watched one of the PTs fire two fish and then race toward us when the cruiser fired at her. We were glad to see her coming, but then we realized with horror that the skipper thought our poor beat-up old _Carole Baby_ was a Japanese barge, and he was getting ready to make a strafing run on us. We jumped up and down and waved our arms and yelled like crazy, even though we knew they couldn’t hear us. “Just before they got to the spot where I would have opened fire if I had been skipper, we saw the gunners relax and point those gun muzzles away as they recognized us. It was PT 491 that came to our rescue.