Stay alert, boys. Keep an eye of the canopy.

Roger.

The year is 1942. Japanese forces have entrenched themselves throughout the Solomon Islands, which lie just to the northeast of Australia.

Allied forces move quickly to route them out of

the strategic island chain, the United States Navy heading first toward the island of Guadalcanal.

But while the Japanese were busily preparing their Solomon Island defenses and airbases in the

sweltering jungle heat, they remained entirely unaware of another kind of enemy.

Even if any of the beleaguered Solomon Islanders had wanted to warn the Japanese invaders

about what monstrous beings ostensibly lived in the island's innermost regions of unexplored

jungles and cave systems, the Japanese probably wouldn't have believed them anyway.

But as the Marines swarmed onto the beaches of Guadalcanal, and the following U.S. Army

divisions arrived to push the Japanese soldiers further and further towards the island's center,

terrifying rumors began to spread that something was killing off their men from their rear flanks.

Something massive.

Something unbelievable.

Something that was eating the men alive.

This. alive. This is the story of the Solomon Island Giants.

I'm Luke Lamanah, and this is wartime stories.

Before 1921, Before 1941, the idea of World War II was an abstract concept for Solomon Islanders.

The war was happening far away in Europe, or at worst, in the mainland regions of Asia,

which was still thousands of miles away. But following the attack on Pearl Harbor, the island began to finally experience the far-reaching impacts of the war.

Britain began evacuating their colonial settlers off the islands and sending local workers

...