Hellfire Pass by L. L. Hill

  “More rice. Please.” Stafford added the courtesy word as a reluctant and unwarranted afterthought as he held his dented empty tin bowl towards Sergeant Anzai. The stench of old sweat, outhouses, machinery grease, dust, and wet jungle lay in an unnoticed pall over the prison camp. Lieutenant Stafford still covered his bald spot with his lank brown and greasy hair hand combed over. Unshaven, … Continue reading Hellfire Pass by L. L. Hill