Some of the other Marines joshed Peters about being a soft touch. He always loaded up on cigarettes and candy before going to the brig for the daily interrogation and gave these out freely to every prisoner he came across.

The other boys preferred the brutal approach. They would lock a prisoner in a footlocker full of roaches or cuff him to a roof-beam for the night. When these failed, they’d fall back on the standard: fists, boots, a blackjack.

But Peters would sit, ask them questions about their families, their homes. Before too long they’d be telling him everything,


Grateful congratulations to Rochelle  for four years of hosting Friday Fictioneers. I find it to be one of the most useful tools in my writing world.