“These guys are relentless!” Tristan screamed to no one in particular, as the bullets, like hail, fell down range. After thirty grueling minutes of fighting, the shooting stopped. All that remained was a field full of blood and smoke. Few Marines had been killed during this engagement, but in Tristan’s estimation close to 200 enemy soldiers were lying dead around them. He was pretty confident at least a dozen of them had been felled by his Browning Automatic Rifle; he was damn proud too. Hail started to pour down on them again in the Pacific. No, now it started to storm!
— J.J. Landry