For WWII Buffs

marine-pierceThis is another off topic post. Sorry. This is just to tell you I have a new project because I desperately need new projects. I promise I’ll return to our regularly scheduled homeschooly homesteady funny stuff soon. In the meantime, here’s a snippet from my new project:

On May 6, 1942, on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, following a long and courageous battle to defend the Philippines, the valiant men of the 4th Marine Regiment were commanded to surrender unconditionally to the enemy.

In the long Malinta Tunnel, hungry and defeated, they huddled in despair, awaiting their fate. Though they couldn’t know it, many would die in labor camps, others would die in the infamous Bataan Death March. Others would suffer, and scrabble, and survive until they were freed three years later, in February 1945, by American troops invading the islands.

Among those tired, dirty, hard-fighting men gathered in the Tunnel, one man held a grenade in his hand. He watched as the enemy’s colonel approached. He felt the weapon’s weight and knew in a moment’s time he could wreak a small revenge. The man with the grenade was my uncle, Pierce L. Wardlow, just an ordinary man thrown into extraordinary circumstances.

Did he throw the grenade? Let him tell you in his own words.

For the three years following that terrible night in the Tunnel, Pierce kept a faithful diary every day, sometimes writing on the backs of can labels or scraps of toilet paper. Some of it eventually was burned in a barracks fire, and he recreated it from scratch. He carried it from camp to camp. He carried it home and rewrote it as a memoir.

And in 1990, he gave an onionskin copy of that memoir to his niece. Me. He commissioned me to take good care of it, and I have kept it safe all these years. Now, seventy years after the loss of Corregidor in WWII, I will be releasing his words day by day, each entry exactly 70 years from the day it chronicles.

So. Click over there. Subscribe for his updates. Relive those amazing, horrifying, almost incredible three years with him.

P.S. It won’t be funny. I’m sorry. Don’t read it if you’re easily horrified or grossed out. Or if you’re looking for a laugh.

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