Summer 2008 • Vol. XXX No. 3 Fiction |

An Unexplained Accident

In memory of Jack Lantz Sr. (1926-2000) Six of them were left, until McDorman went down. Looking up from his thermometer, Beckett turned and saw him fallen on the snow, Slade and Cooper heading back to him. They were outfitted in summer gear. The thermometer read fifteen degrees. Cooper, the biggest man in the platoon, head and shoulders taller than Slade, reached the body first. He knelt and began rifling through McDorman's pockets. Beckett knew he was after the maps. McDorman traveled with at least half a dozen maps—road maps and topographical maps of Korea, North and South, a U.S. map, and one of the world. "As if he needs them to position himself on the earth," Slade told Beckett once, "as if he could use them to will himself from one location to another, from the mountains to the bank of a river." But without those maps and the compass, they could never find their way south under the thick cloud cover, through the snow-covered ground that kept rising before them.

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In memory of Jack Lantz Sr. (1926-2000) Six of them were left, until McDorman went down. Looking up from his thermometer, Beckett turned and saw him fallen on the snow, […]

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