ABSTRACT
One of the great memoirs of the Second World War is Robert Leakie’s account of his time as a young US Marine, starting from boot camp and ending on the battlefields of Guadalcanal and Peleliu. War became for him a rite of passage, as it did for so many young men at the time. But in reflecting on the war years later, in trying to grasp the point of it all, he captured a glimpse of something much more profound than a passage to manhood. In explaining why he decided to record his experiences he wrote: ‘for myself a memory and the strength of ordeal sustained; for my son a priceless heritage; for my country, sacrifice’.1
