Little Brown Brother

I've always wanted to play the part of that puckish pubescent Filipino boy in those John Wayne Pacific-War movies. Pepe, Jose, or Juanito would be smiling, bare-chested and eager to please for most of the steamy jungle scenes. I'd be the one who would cross the Japanese lines and ask for tanks, air support, or more men. I'd miraculously make it back to the town where John Wayne is holding his position against the enemy with his Thompson machine-gun. As a reward, he'd rub that big white hand on my head and he'd promise to let me clean his Tommy gun by the end of the night. But then, a Betty Grable look-a-like love interest would divert him by sobbing into his shoulder, saying how awfully scared she is about what the "Japs" would do to her if she were captured. In one swift motion, John Wayne would sweep her off her feet to calm her fears inside his private quarters. Because of my Hollywood ability to be anywhere, I'd be under the bed watching the woman roll down her stockings as my American hero unbuckles his belt. I'd feel the bottom of the bed bounce off my chest as small-arms fire explodes outside the walls. Submitted by Samuel Hamada