Camp Toccoa, Georgia – 1942. The sun is barely rising casting an orange glow over the misty training grounds. A row of exhausted soldiers stand at attention, sweat dripping from their brows after another grueling Currahee run. Captain Sobel, crisp and rigid paces in front of them, while Lieutenant Winters watches from the side silent but observant
Captain Sobel: (stern, nasal tone) "Three miles up, three miles down! And yet, some of you still manage to disgrace!" (Continue the rest Im tired)
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