Time: early morning of May 5, 1942. Place: the radio dugout on Corregidor. At his key a haggard radio operator taps out the last broken sentences of the most tragic chapter in U.S. military history: "They are not near yet. We are waiting for God only knows what.
How about a chocolate soda? . . .
"Not many. Not near yet. Lots of heavy fighting going on. We've only got about one hour twenty minutes before. . . .
"We may have to give up by noon. We don't know yet. They are throwing men and shells at us and we may not be...