Shortly after noon a messenger arrived from regimental headquarters with orders for me to report to the 9 Station Hospital in Pieta, to be evacuated to the States. The month before I had had a bout of heart trouble after five days and nights without sleep, while we made repeated forced marches. I had been hospitalized for two weeks. I'd been released back to my unit temporarily as wounded Marines from Guadalcanal began to overcrowd the hospital. I was determined to fight with the unit so I consulted John. "I'm going to the Canal with you!" "Charley, you've got to go to the hospital. If I allow you to come with us, I'll qualify for a court-martial." He mused for several moments then began to smile. "We're to load on the McCawley, but there's another ship going to the Canal, the Zeilin. I'll lend you a jeep tonight, and if you can get on that ship, good luck! Heck! I can say I don't know where you went!"