ABSTRACT
In April 1945, the American wounded were being evacuated from Iwo Jima in the Pacific. Among the evacuees was a bosun’s mate who had lost his right arm. A mail carrier before the war, he now brooded over returning home to his wife and two children. As USO entertainers circulated in the ward trying to cheer up the wounded, one of them stopped at this young man’s bed and whispered:
“Come on, sailor. There must be some special song you like.” The bosun’s mate named his choice and the girl sang, sweet and low:
