Professor Greg Jackson

But they're paying dearly for these small victories in lives and blood.

And yet, things are even worse up north, at the Abukai Line.

By the end of January, the Japanese managed to punch through the line and form two pockets, the so-called Little Pocket and Big Pocket.

Knowing that these pockets must be closed, General Skinny Wainwright sends everything he can, including one brave Minnesotan.

It's the morning of February 3rd, 1942.

Sergeant Leroy Anderson's tank company is pushing along the densely forested Trail 7, located between the American and Filipino-held Abukai Line and the Japanese Big Pocket.

Reconnaissance from Leroy last night says that this forest is filled with Japanese soldiers and snipers.

That is to say, Leroy was shot at a lot trying to cross this trail last night.

Now his tanks are advancing with rifle platoons.

And one extra man, a dark-haired Minnesotan named Willibald Bill Bianchi.

See, Bill isn't assigned to these units.

He simply asked to come along to, quote, be in on the action, close quote.

The mix of Filipino and American troops creeps forward, scanning the trees and brush, distrustful of every glint of morning light that might actually be a Japanese gun.

On the left flank of the tank lines, Lieutenant John McGrew, a communications officer, feels safe enough to relay info with his telephone in hand.

But there's no such thing as safe in the jungle.

Just then, a bullet rips through John's hand, taking off a finger.

Firing erupts in every direction as the men try to locate and kill the Japanese snipers.

Leroy's tanks attempt to continue advancing, but an enormous banyan tree with huge jutting roots and draping of flanged branches blocks the way.

Next to this halted tank, Bill Bianchi fires his rifle, but soon suffers the same fate as the communications officer.

Two bullets rip his left hand apart.