Coast Guard-manned landing barges strike at the beaches near Guam.

Stumbling and sliding through the sand, we ran across the open, a distance of about fifteen yards. It seemed like a hun- dred. We fell scared and out of breath behind a sand dune and lay on our stomachs panting. Why were we still alive?— No time to think about it. The only thing was to stay alive. Save yourself. Don’t raise up. Don’t move. It was like Tarawa. Men crowded on the sand. When would it end? How would We get out of it?

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