"Parts, nothing!" Shaftoe says, a few busy seconds later. He produces a fully assembled trench broom from the crate. The red coals of half a dozen I SHALL RETURN cigarettes leap upwards into the Huks’ mouths as they free their hands for a light round of applause. Someone passes him a pie-shaped magazine, heavy with .45 caliber cartridges. "Y’know, they invented this kind ammo just to knock down crazy Filipino bastards," Shaftoe announces.