(See Cover)
The cold Korean night rang with silence. But in all the dark and unseen hills for unseen miles around lay thousands of hidden armed men, breathing, staring, listening, waiting. Once in a great while, far away in some high ravine, a machine gun pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-popped, and then stopped to hear its own echo. Thirteen U.S. Marines listened to it with odd gratitude as they felt their way, single file, through a black no man's land of paddy-fields. When the echoes died, they could hear nothing but the sound of their own breathing...
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