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Show Death in Battle Parts Father, Son Bloody Okinawa Takes Life Of Colonel's Pal. OKINAWA. 'Come on, dad, strike 'em out!" It was Shanghai, 1937. The pitcher was rugged Maj. Frances I. Fenton, player-manager of the undefeated marine team. It was his 45th birthday. birth-day. The rooter was his 11-year-old son, Mike. "You can do it. dad. You can do it!" The major did, winning, 9 to 2. "Nice catch, son." Mike was playing now, second baseman for St. Joseph's academy in Baltimore, Md. Lieutenant Colonel Colo-nel Fenton had come back from the Quantico, Va.t base to watch. After the game Mike said: "Dad, I'm 17 now. There's a paper that I'd like to have you sign." 'I thought you didn't want to join the corps." "But there's a war on. When it's over we'll both resign and take in all the big league games, huh?" "Sure, Mike, if that's what you want." "Hello, son." It was April, 1945. The Fentons colonel and private first class met on bloody Okinawa. Mike had turned down a commission, wanted to fight in the lines. He was a scout-sniper. scout-sniper. "Need anything, Mike?" "No, sir. Please don't send me anything. I wouldn't feel right. The other guys'll think I'm pulling strings because my father is a colonel." colo-nel." Two weeks later the Japs counterattacked. counter-attacked. Mike crouched behind a rock, tossed grenades. Jap shells and machine gun bullets answered. A jeep rolled up at the graves registrant tent. Men were stretched on the ground. Colonel Fenton walked among the bodies, stopped at one. "This is my son," he said. Mike was buried in the ground he fought for. The Catholic chaplain chap-lain intoned the final prayer. Then the colonel bowed in prayer among the other marines awaiting burial. "The poor souls. They didn't have their fathers here," he said. |