“I went back to the reference historian and asked him if a casualty card existed for Martin. It didn’t. “I’m frustrated because I can’t find him,” I said. “There’s a new officer signing the reports starting in 1969.” “Maybe he was transferred out. Keep going.” He looked at me carefully. “But you know, you look like you need something to eat. It’s one already.” He gave me directions to a nearby canteen, where I went and drank a liter of orange juice and took the turkey off the submarine sandwich ...I’d bought. I sat there, in the midst of men in many different uniforms—Marines in their camouflage, naval officers in khaki polyester, and sailors in flared dungarees. I was wearing jeans, too—but the Yokohama Curry T-shirt I wore gave the truth away about me, that and my self-created vegetarian submarine sandwich. Feeling stronger, I returned to the library and went back to my microfilm reader, where the light had been turned off but the tape had remained undisturbed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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