Marcus Bellweather had been running through France when the shell took his leg.
It was October 1918, near the Meuse-Argonne, and the American Expeditionary Force was pushing through the Argonne Forest like a machine gun through wet paper. Marcus was twenty-five and the fastest runner in the 369th Infantry—better known as the Harlem Hellfighters, though Marcus never liked that name. It sounded like something you'd find in a circus. He ran messages when the telephones were...
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