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In my mind, I could already hear the waves and feel the breeze.
Despite gasoline rationing, no new tires in sight, and a shortage of hot dogs and hamburgers on Meatless Tuesday, we still traveled down to Myrtle Beach.
I was excited on the ride down and Mama was tryin’ her best to temper my mood.
“Son, things are going to be different down there this time,” she said. “With the war, there will be beach patrols watching for Nazi submarines instead of swimmers who go out too far.”
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