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my dad joined the Navy underage, got trained as a corpsman, and ended up on a couple different ships in the Pacific. He also did some ground duty at Guadacanal (as I recall...can't remember the name of the destroyer he was on). Since he was tall and fast, he was a "runner". That was the guy that ran out to pick up wounded and toss them on a one-person stretcher then drag them back to a safe location where they could try and fix them (he carried a lot of morphine). He also evidently worked a number of kamikaze attacks. He has *never* sat around and told "war stories". It was only recently (he's 78 now) that one night he mentioned the name of one of the ships he was one. His only comment has been "it wasn't fun." I guess picking up pieces of your friends likely isn't...
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