Far On The Ringing Plains

Preamble: The Corpsman

Preamble: The Corpsman

Guadalcanal 1942

When I first saw the Islands, it was August 7, 1942, at 0400 hours…

The sky was still dark, but from the deck of the ship I could see the dark mass of the mountains of Guadalcanal standing in sharp relief against the lighter sky. As the first glow of a golden dawn touched the mountaintops and flowed down their jagged sides, I thought this place must be heaven. Palm trees waved their fronds in the soft breeze. Off the bow, a school of dolphins cast luminescent rainbows into the air as they played in the blue Solomon Sea.

But then I remembered—waiting for us in that beautiful jungle, just over there, was the enemy. An enemy as determined to kill us, as we were to kill them. And it occurred to me that perhaps we should be the most careful in the beautiful places of this world. For in these places we often let down our guard. The beauty surrounds us and numbs us to danger. We don’t pay attention, and that could kill us.

I am preparing to go ashore with the boys of the U.S. Marines 2nd Division. We have trained and practiced; we are in shape and tough. But that’s only on the outside. Inside we are still boys. We shout and strut in front of our leaders, but we do not know how we will behave when hell comes looking for us.

War is the great separator. It separates heroes from cowards, the noble from ignoble, men from boys. There is no second chance and no going back. War is the great decider, the last chance café, the non-refundable offer. Beside me are my friends and on that soon-invaded shore, the enemy. I pray that the story we write here will be one of men who discover the greatest that lives within them, and the God that is all around them.

Corpsman