| Original caption: “Hunting Japanese Snipers in the Leyte Jungle. A patrol of Yankee fighting men is snapped by a Coast Guard combat photographer as it moves across a crude log bridge to disappear into the dense thickets back from the beach of Leyte Island in the Central Philippines. Rifles readied, the troops are going hunting for Japanese hiding in the thickets to pick off American soldiers and Coast Guardsmen along the liberation shore.” United States Coast Guard Photographer’s Mate 2nd Class Warren M. Winterbottom (January 20, 1912 – October 28, 1981) follows an American patrol as they clear Leyte’s rainforest of snipers. They are heavily laden with supplies; the man closest to the camera carries his kit in a Waterproof Special Purpose Bag (“Invasion Bag”) against Leyte’s rain. When the rains didn’t destroy the roads, the heavy military traffic damaged them. To address this issue, traffic was restricted to the most essential military vehicles, and civilian traffic was significantly curtailed. Even transporting soldiers to and from the front had to be limited to the lightest type of transport available to the unit that was moving. It continued to get worse. In November 1944, 20-3 1/2 inches (59.6 centimeters) of rain fell on Leyte. Mud was everywhere all the time. Equipment, including tanks, self-propelled guns, and other essential support weapons, was often mired in the ever-present muck, making progress on the front lines, as well as in the rear, excruciatingly slow. Civilian pick-and-shovel crews were added to the roadwork crews to supplement or augment the work done by the engineers; however, throughout the campaign, transportation remained a significant concern and often dictated the progress of the battle. The flow of enemy reinforcements to Leyte continued unabated, and exactly when and where these additional troops would be encountered remained a mystery. Their numbers and strength remained another mystery. United States Army General Walter Krueger (January 26, 1881 – August 20, 1967), Commander of 6th Army, had other concerns as well. Although the main reason for seizing Leyte had been the establishment of airfields and logistics bases on the island to support future landings in the Philippines, that aspect of the invasion was not progressing as planned. Soil and weather conditions on Leyte rendered most of the airfields unusable, and the poor road conditions hindered the engineers attempting to improve them. Even before they could work on the fields, the engineers had to build or repair their access roads. 3 typhoons in quick succession hit the island, making the situation even more challenging. Rain was nearly constant, with both combat troops and engineers being slowed, often halted, by the torrential downpours. Many engineering units had to be redirected to work on the roads leading to the front lines, to supply the combat troops, before they could work on their logistical problems. Even the highly regarded Highway I along the beach fell apart in the heavy rains of October 25, making it all but impossible to move troops, supplies, and vehicles. While the Corps suffered most from these poor conditions, they affected all of 6th Army. United States Army Captain Mervin A. Elliott (May 12, 1915 – September 15, 2003) of New York City, S-3 Operations of the 17th Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division, is 1 of the few Americans who preferred Attu. “There was no disease there,” he said. “Plenty of good drinking water, and bodies never stank. Or maybe it’s because I like cold and hate heat.” Japanese pillboxes are so well hidden that American soldiers often pass them by without noticing. Then snipers turn up in swamps and cornfields behind American lines. The United States Army lost a lot of men that way. Opinions about the kind of resistance put up by the Japs on Leyte varied. Captain Elliott’s opinion is that they are as smart as the Japanese forces on Attu, and he pointed to their successful delaying action that made possible the last-ditch stand at Ormoc. However, other officers stated that the manner in which the Japanese abandoned their trucks and equipment suggested a full retreat rather than a planned withdrawal. However, sniping seldom ended with withdrawal, whether it was a planned withdrawal or a full retreat. Lieutenant Robert J. Mitchell (April 27, 1918 – October 13, 1992), 17th Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division, of Casper, Wyoming, reported that Japanese machine gunners concentrated on a daisy-high range. “Their style,” he said, “is to hide out in tall grass and shoot from ground level. A great many of our casualties have been hit from the hips down.” Mitchell, who survived being shot on Attu, carried the bullet in his body throughout his career as a television writer in Hollywood after the war. Lieutenant Mitchell displayed wood-and-paper pointed bullets, which the Japanese have been using. “The paper bullets are fired over our heads,” he said. “They explode with a sharp pop. You naturally look in that direction, which is the wrong one, and the Japanese sniper has time for a pot shot.” Lieutenant Colonel John M. “Mickey” Finn (August 31, 1913 – April 9, 1979), of McCoy, Oregon, and commander of the 32nd Infantry Regiment, recounted another Japanese trick. He said some Japanese have stripped American dead and have gone around behind our lines disguised as GIs. He told of 2 Japanese officers and 5 men, who sneaked into the outskirts of San Pablo, captured by the Americans 2 weeks before. At night, they marched single file down the highway until a guard challenged them. Then they split and dropped into ditches on either side of the road. A Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR) man and a machinegunner raked the roadsides. All the Japanese were dead when the sun came up. Technical Sergeant Robert K. McGrath (October 6, 1921 – May 9, 2014) of Grand Rapids, Michigan, was emphatic about his dislike for Attu. “Leyte is much better than the Aleutians. Up there, you had to carry everything on your back. Here, the roads may be muddy, but trucks do finally make it with supplies. We get our barracks bags here and a change of clothing. On Leyte it’s just fighting the Jap[anese], not the weather,” 1 sultry day at the front, a sniper seemed to open fire every time Brigadier General Kenneth F. Cramer (October 3, 1894 – February 20, 1954) of Wethersfield, Connecticut, the Assistant 7th Division Commander, removed his helmet to mop his brow. The sniping became so pointed that a Lieutenant decided that the shots were aimed at his superior’s shining bald spot. “By God, Sir,” he said, “your pate is the target.” Henceforth, the chunky brigadier kept his helmet on. The sniper then sought other targets. Snipers liked to climb tall trees growing from ravines. Such a perch provided them with a clear view of troops moving over adjoining higher ground. Other Japanese dug their foxholes to face the “wrong” direction; they allowed American detachments to pass, then mowed them down from the rear. Or a sniper would dig a sound hole near a mountain trail, bury a mine in it, and then withdraw a little way into the jungle. Soldiers suddenly fired on by the sniper were likely to dive into the convenient foxhole, only to be blown sky-high. There were Japanese who left innocent-looking sandal tracks in the mud. A patrol following these tracks in the hope of finding 1 Japanese suddenly ran into gun blasts. There were Japanese who started little cooking fires to make Americans believe that there were Japanese off guard, eating rice. A patrol intent on surprising the Japanese blundered into an ambush instead. There were Japanese who squatted a few yards away from the American wounded. The Japanese shouted, “Medic! Medic!” To the corpsman rushing up to help – that was unfailing death. There was a lone Japanese sniper who fired a single shot down a trail to reveal his position. But the patrol lured forward to destroy the sniper was clamped between machinegun fire from both flanks. That happened to an F Company combat patrol on November 19, near Capoocan. The patrol was saved by Private John E. Lomko (1923 – December 11, 1944), of Chicago, who had insisted on lugging along a light machine gun. The patrol fell back while he fired. Then he withdrew, dragging his gun. Every few yards, he stopped, turned around, and gave the Japanese another burst of fire. Lomko was killed in action. Much of the Philippines’ war was fought in countless obscure actions, most of which have never been reported in the Western world. Many people read the dispatches on the conquest of Manila or the Battle of the Ormoc Valley on Leyte, but how many people have ever heard of Breakneck Ridge, where hundreds of Americans died in typhoon-like rainstorms, or of the countless Indian-war-style raids and skirmishes on islands whose names do not appear on any globe? Or of the massacres and the American graves in the unexplored foothills of Mount Apo? There are more than 7,000 islands in the Philippines, and nearly 3,000 of them do not have a name. Photographer Warren M. Winterbottom was an Associated Press photographer until he enlisted in the Coast Guard on November 7, 1943. He was discharged on September 22, 1945. He returned to the Associated Press’ Philadelphia Bureau after World War II. | |
| Image Filename | wwii1474.jpg |
| Image Size | 2.41 MB |
| Image Dimensions | 3490 x 4342 |
| Photographer | ` |
| Photographer Title | United States Coast Guard |
| Caption Author | Written or Adapted by Jason McDonald |
| Date Photographed | December 1, 1944 |
| Location | |
| City | |
| State or Province | Leyte |
| Country | Philippines |
| Archive | National Archives and Records Administration |
| Record Number | 26-G-3611 |
| Status | Caption ©2026 MFA Productions LLC Please Do Not Duplicate or Distribute Without Permission; Image in the Public Domain |
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