A little personal background in why I'm so interested in the history of this piece of iron and wood.
I come from 3 generations of Marines on my father's side. My father was a "Full Metal Jacket" era Marine, 100% all the way through. All his friends/hunting buddies were as well. I was the only kid I knew growing up who had a father and a grandfather who each had two birthdays. Unfortunately, my father was not a nice guy. Abusive, alcoholic, he was toxic. He severely injured his knee in the Corps and was honorably discharged. He told me that if I tried to carry on the family tradition, he'd kill me himself first. I remember the conversation vividly. So I made my career academia/science.
My Grandfathers were a different story. The Greatest Generation to a picture perfect portrait. The Marine side Grandfather was on Guadalcanal, stayed in the Solomons until a Japanese grenade blinded his right eye. He was sent home and awarded the Purple Heart. He taught me how to hunt, fish, work on boats, shoot guns, be a good human being. He passed away in Spring of 2010. I've actually flown out of Henderson Airfield. I have hiked Mount Austen. That experience about brought me to my knees, he had just passed away that Spring. I've worked in caves on Guadalcanal that were Japanese last stand holdouts, hiked through the jungles on the top of Mt. Austen. I've been through Matanikau and Tenaru. I've landed on the 1.25-mile long bomber airstrip on Munda in New Georgia, and been to Olasana and Plum Pudding Islands. The field sites for my PhD research were Mount Austen on Guadalcanal, and Olasana in the Western Province. Olasana is the island that Kennedy swam the crew to for food and water.
My other Grandfather was Army, he was counter-battery field artillery in North Africa. His vehicle was strafed by a Stuka and disabled in the middle of the "surprise" Valentine's Day Panzer attack at Faid, Tunisia during the Battle of Kasserine Pass. Germans tried to get him to drive a half track back to the German line after capture, but he ground the gears out of it instead. He spent the rest of the war at Stalag IIIb, Furstenburg, attempting multiple escapes, including one successful one. He climbed a tree outside the walls to celebrate freedom. He and his companions were ratted out that night by refugees while sleeping in a barn. He helped raise me, taught me to be faithful, honest, and keep your word, he beat the fundamentals of integrity into me. He passed away June 13th, aged 94. Not a better man has walked the Earth than these two.
Here's me in a cave doing fieldwork on Mt. Austen, Guadalcanal:
https://www.milsurps.com/images/impo...769948_n-1.jpg
