"Like a Marine, only more so," Shaftoe says. Which might sound like bravado. Indeed it partly is. But this comment is as heavy laden with irony as Shaftoe’s clothes are with sand, because at this particular moment in history, a Marine isn’t just a tough s.o.b. He is a tough S.O.B. stuck out in the middle of nowhere (Guadalcanal) with no food or weapons (owing, as every Marine can tell you, to a sinister conspiracy between General MacArthur and the Nips) totally making everything up as he goes along, improvising weapons from found objects, addled, half the time, by disease and the drugs supplied to keep diseases at bay. And in every one of those senses, a Marine Raider is (as Shaftoe says) like a Marine, only more so.