The Sum Of A Million Facts Is

The Coconut Trees, Lithe And Graceful, Crowd The Beach Like A Minuet Of Slender Elderly Virgins Adopting Flippant Poses.

They Fought On With A Devotion Which Would Puzzle The Generation Of The 1980s. More Surprising, In Many Instances It Would Have Baffled The Men They Themselves Were Before Pearl Harbor. Among Macarthur's Ardent Infantrymen Were Cooks, Mechanics, Pilots Whose Planes Had Been Shot Down, Seamen Whose Ships Had Been Sunk, And Some Civilian Volunteers.

One Strange Feeling, Which I Remember Clearly, Was A Powerful Link With The Slain, Particularly Those That Had Fallen Within The Past Hour Or Two. There Was So Much Death Around That Life Seemed Almost Indecent. Some Men's Uniforms Were Soaked With Gobs Of Blood. The Ground Was Sodden With It. I Killed, Too.

The Sum Of A Million Facts Is Not The Truth.

Actors Who Have Tried To Play Churchill And Macarthur Have Failed Abysmally Because Each Of Those Men Was A Great Actor Playing Himself.