The tanned young men were strangers in those parts. Some carried bulky paper bags. The pockets of their civvies sagged with hidden burdens. All day they appeared in steadily increasing numbers on the streets. The good people of Anderson, S.C. (pop. 19,424) tried not to notice the strangers, but like them could not suppress an occasional grin. Everybody knew what was coming, but nearly everybody was excited.
At 7:30 that evening, it came. Factory whistles whuffed and screamed. Warning bombs exploded. From their paper bags and pockets, the young men snatched Army...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In