The last Japanese tank on Guam

I followed a guy I met on the Internet through a labyrinthine golf course on an expansive patch of jungle to a World War II-era Japanese tank yesterday.

Supposedly the only Japanese tank in Guam -- and by that I mean it's the only one I've seen so far -- the tank was lying only a few dozen feet off a conveniently mowed grass access road splitting off from a private golf course on a large and mostly empty resort confusingly located in the island's interior.

Rusted and crumbling, the surprisingly small artifact more closely resembled a flower pot -- with weeds and plants growing up through its body -- than something that once held multiple (?) people.

We got there after meandering our way through a small paved road along the course's driving ranges, which were literally cut through jungle.

Despite having hiked in the vicinity of LeoPalace, and having enjoyed its always empty bowling alley, I was surprised to see that the actual extent of the grounds was huge. The area seemed to be its very own artificial community, complete with villas and bathroom facilities, located in what is otherwise an isolated expanse of wild land.

We had started early, so luckily there were few people on the course to yell at us.

Once we left the golf course, the "hike" was actually a fairly comfortable stroll along a muddy back road.

Surrounding the course, large concrete bridges connected dirt roads rimmed by head-high sword grass.

I sort of assumed we were just kind of wandering, but being a crewman on a Navy nuclear submarine who routinely bikes around the island discovering new and interesting things, my new friend came prepared with a GPS tracker and a Google Earth print out of our target.

And within minutes, we found the tank, sitting along the side of the road, mostly shrouded by sword grass. What was left of the vehicle was decomposing. Metal and rubber and the insides of the thing all seemed to be disappearing.

On the way back, we saw delighted golfers pitch balls across river gullies and steep waterfalls, which had been littered with the white round fallout of holes missed.

As they made their way along the road in carts toward the next hole, several golfers passed us along the way, and seemed none too happy to have their pristine recreational experienced sullied by the presence of sweaty hikers.