I kinda expected this not to be very well received as it is not the typical tribute to those who call themselves the "Greatest Generation".
However, this is, more or less, how it was explained to me, by my great uncle, a dyed-in-the-wool, drafted, Leatherneck who went on an island hopping excursion across the Pacific Ocean back in the day. Apparently, the training didn't "take" very well in his case. His favorite story was about cooking, over an open flame, and eating an entire can of bacon that he found in the sand during a beach-landing on some island paradise.
His next "favorite" story was about how it was all for nothing. "We were rooked."
May he rest in peace.
bacon in a can
About Genocide By Assimilation
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