The Huks are elated. Shaftoe stands in the street brooding while the padre administers last rites to the dead and dying Nipponese. Obviously, discipline has completely broken down. The Nips know they are trapped. They know MacArthur is about to run right over them, like a lawn mower plowing through an anthill. They have become a mob. For Shaftoe, it’s going to be easier to fight mobs of drunken, deranged looters, but there’s no telling what they might be doing to civilians farther north.