TWENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT, 30 Days Has September
The six of us moved on our bellies, out toward the jumbled remains in the killing field of the mudflat, as one, without any signal. The ability of Marines in combat to need a whole lot fewer signals and orders than the guys doing all the training back home thought...
THE TWENTY-FOURTH NIGHT, SECOND PART, 30 Day Has September
I’d lost something indefinable, aside from my illegally promoted scout sergeant. I’d lost something like a loyal friend, but it was deeper than that. I moved through the jungle, low and almost on full automatic. How had the young black man eaten his way into my very...Subscribe to FROM THE WILDERNESS
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