So Im reading The Importance of Being Foolish and I wanted to email you something I read today. It struck me.
In the winter of 1952, during some of the heaviest combat of the Korean War, two Marine corporals were crouched in the bunker of a foward observation post some one hundred yards inside enemy lines. Jack Robison and Tim Casey had been friends for almost a year. They met in ammunition-demolition school in Quantico, Virginia, went on furlough together, then traveled on to Camp Pedleton, California, for advanced infrantry training. Their regiment had arrived in Pusan in the fall of 1951.
It was a little after midnight, and a light snow was falling. Huddled in the bunker, the two were passing a cigarette back and forth when a hand grenade, lobbed by an undetected North Korean twenty-five yards north of their position, landed squarely between them. Casey spotted it first. He nonchalantly flicked the butt aside and fell on the grenade. It detonated instantly, but Casey's stomach absorbed the explosion. He winked at Robinson and rolled over dead.
Theres a second half to the story if you want it. I will probably send it to you later when I have more time. It totally blew my mind.
Love ya
alison
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