It was 3:14 in the morning. She couldn't sleep. She gathered her things in the dark--water bottle, iPad--and tripped on her shoes on the way to the spare bedroom. She didn't want to read the book(s) she was in the middle of. What had she read earlier on her pal David Wolman's page? Something about the sinking of a WW II ship...
And so she bought it, with 1-click. Her face was lit by the moony glow of the screen as she read IN HARM'S WAY: The Sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis and the Extraordinary Story of its Survivors, captivated by passages like:
Before being assigned to the Indy, in November 1944, McCoy had spent two months as part of a marine assault on the island of Peleliu, a hellish, confusing place where he contracted malaria. The fighting had been vicious, and often it was hand to hand. The dead bodies piled up around McCoy and would hiss and explode in the sun as he hunkered in the mud and coral, praying the mortars would miss him.
And she realized she had found her genre book, war history. And she wondered who was with her, and what they recommend.