1st Marines

Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, March 15th, 2006

Mr. Travis lied about his age, and turned eighteen on Guadalcanal. When he got off that hell-hole of an island, he wore his trousers, long since frayed into shorts, his helmet and boots, and his dog tags. He had the same carbine the Marines had given him, and it took a little slip of a nurse to take it from him.

“If trouble ever comes to our little town,” Dad told me, “and I’m not here, you find Travis and line up behind him. He’s the meanest, toughest s.o.b. that ever left this town and came back. Do what he says. You’ll be safe with him.”

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