It began on a quiet afternoon at Quantico. Two young Marines, full of themselves, and one old man moving too slow. They thought he was a roadblock, a relic in their path. They had no idea they were speaking to a ghost of the Corps. “Is this some kind of joke? Clear the lane, Grandpa.” The voice was sharp, clean, and full of the kind of impatience only a young man in a freshly pressed uniform can really muster. It cut right through the quiet of the afternoon at the Quantico Marine Corps base, mak