His [gen. Douglas Macarthur's] Own Heroes Were

The Sum Of A Million Facts Is Not The Truth.

I Came To A Dead Stop And Began Major Revisions. Sometimes These Entailed The Shredding Of All Existing Manuscript For A Fresh Start - An Inefficient Way To Write A Book, Though I Found It Exciting.

The Coconut Trees, Lithe And Graceful, Crowd The Beach Like A Minuet Of Slender Elderly Virgins Adopting Flippant Poses.

It Was His [gen. Douglas Macarthur's] Relationship With The Administration In Washington Which Became Poisoned By His Egomania. Link Upon Link The Bond Between Events On The Battlefield And His Own Ruin Was Forged, And, As Is Essential In Genuine Tragedy, The Gods Used The Victim Himself To Forge The Links.

But There Are No Loners. No Man Lives In A Void. His Every Act Is Conditioned By His Time And His Society.