Hell In The Pacific: A Marine Rifleman's Journey From Guadalcanal To Peleliu - Plot & Excerpts
is a whole lot more than just another old saying. As I mentioned at the beginning of this story, I think I’ve always been a Marine at heart. And today, nearly sixty-six years after I received my discharge from the Corps and returned to civilian life, I still consider myself a Marine. The men I fought beside and shared foxholes with in World War II—especially those in K/3/5—are like members of my own family. Except for my wife, Gertrude, my daughter, Karen Cummins, and my two grandsons, Brendan and Erik, these guys are the most important people in the world. (My sister, Lillian, passed away in 2004, and my brother, Peter Jr., was killed in a car crash in the early 1980s.) This is why I’ve made it a point to stay in close touch over the years with as many of my Pacific comrades as possible. I still talk regularly by phone to wartime buddies like Slim Somerville, Bob Moss, and T. I. Miller, my old platoon guide at Guadalcanal. They’re as close to me as brothers, and they will be for as long as we live.
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