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  Whilst marching through the town a small pig gets tangled up among our marching feet and I reach down and snatch him up by one of his rear legs. I just can't pass up such opportunities, and there is much amusement as the noise of the squealing pig is covered by the sounds of our marching feet and our happiness to be young and invincible on such a day.

� 2006 Chet Nycum,  Corregidor Historic Society -, 503d PRCT Heritage Bn. -  all rights reserved