It was early on Christmas Eve, 24 December 1943, and I was far away from home on duty at a U.S. Navy medical facility. I had
always requested duty on holidays to cover for my medical buddies who were not of my own faith, and they did the same for
me. My patients were a large group of 17-, 18-, and 19-year-old Marines fresh off Guadalcanal, where they had aged so rapidly
in combat with enemies and tropical illnesses. They were truly ill, both physically and emotionally.