He came out of nowhere. He was yelling and charging straight for the American patrol. He stood a little over five and a half feet tall but to the soldiers he looked like a monster twelve feet tall. He brandished a long knife, which he wickedly held in his right hand. The patrol reacted immediately and several of the soldiers scored hits from their bolt action, Springfield rifles. But he wouldn't go down. He just kept coming at them. He was about ready to slash at the soldiers when a lucky shot to his head brought him down. After the fight the soldiers turned the dead warrior over. He had twelve neat little holes in him, but only the lucky shot had stopped him.
Here was a new enemy – the Moro Juramentado. Armed with a sword known as the Kris or a hacking knife called the Barong, they were a formidable enemy. They were unlike any other enemy the Americans had encountered. Having used a special herbal drug that made them impervious to pain and with their bodies bound up like a giant tourniquet so that they would not easily bleed out, they would charge and attack until they were dead. The Moro Juramentado never retreated or surrendered. The Americans, following the European trend toward smaller caliber weapons brought their .30 caliber Springfield rifles and their .38 caliber revolvers. They soon learned that the stopping power of the .38 was not sufficient to stop a Juramentado.
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