One last look before we draw it
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The places we'll draw
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What each page will show
01
Page 1 — the words
Wayne Wilberg was twenty-one years old, and he had been a Marine for a long time. He'd driven trucks. He'd slept on the ground. He'd worn the same green dungarees until they were thin at the knees. Tonight he stood on a hilltop in Okinawa, and something in the air felt different.
The picture
Wayne stands alone at the crest of a dark hill, helmet on, hands loose at his sides. The wind moves his collar. Below him, the vast black bay is just barely visible — a gleam of water at the edge of the world. His face is calm but watchful. Warm amber light from a low moon. Other Marines are shadows behind him. The mood is quiet, expectant — the held breath before something enormous
02
Page 2 — the words
He looked down at the water. Ship after ship after ship filled the bay — more than he could count, more than he had ever imagined. "There were about 2000 ships out in Buckner Bay," Wayne would say. As far as his eyes could see, from one edge of the world to the other.
The picture
A wide, sweeping illustration from Wayne's vantage on the hilltop looking down over Buckner Bay. The bay is packed with the dark silhouettes of ships — destroyers, transports, carriers — stretching horizon to horizon under a star-scattered sky. Wayne is a small figure at upper left, staring out. The scale makes him look very young and very small. The ships' running lights dot the water like a reflection of the stars above
"There were about 2000 ships out in Buckner Bay."
03
Page 3 — the words
Then — a flash. A boom that rolled up the hill like thunder. Then another. And another. Every ship in the bay lit up at once, guns firing straight into the sky. Tracers tore through the dark like rivers of fire. The noise was everywhere.
The picture
The bay below explodes into light. Tracer rounds arc upward from dozens of ships simultaneously — streaks of orange and gold and white ripping through the black sky. The ships' decks pulse with muzzle flash. Wayne flinches at the first boom, then straightens, staring wide-eyed. Other Marines on the hill turn toward the water, hands raised to shade their eyes. The bay has gone from dark and quiet to blazing and thunderous in an instant
"They had been told the war was over and they were so excited that they started firing their ammunition to celebrate."
04
Page 4 — the words
Wayne had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. The lights kept arcing up — gold and orange and white — bursting over the water again and again. It was just like home on the Fourth of July. Only a thousand times bigger. "It was like a huge July 4 celebration," he said.
The picture
Close-up on Wayne's face, lit from below by the flickering glow of the gunfire over the bay. His eyes are wide and bright with wonder — a young man seeing something magnificent. Behind him, fellow Marines grin and nudge each other, pointing down at the ships. The colors are warm and golden. For one spread, the war looks like a party
"It was like a huge July 4 celebration."
05
Page 5 — the words
But why? Why was the whole Navy shooting at once? Wayne looked at the men around him. Nobody knew. He turned to his sergeant. "We asked our superiors what was going on," Wayne remembered, "and they went to find out."
The picture
A cluster of Marines on the hilltop — Wayne at the front, turning toward his sergeant with a questioning look. Other young men exchange puzzled glances, pointing at the bay and shrugging. The sergeant — older, broader, authoritative — is already striding away down the path with two other men, heading to find answers. The celebration light still blazes behind them. The mood is curious, not yet afraid
"We asked our superiors what was going on and they went to find out."
06
Page 6 — the words
The sergeants walked away into the dark. Wayne and the others waited on the hill. The guns kept booming. The sky kept blazing. Every second felt like a minute. Every minute felt like an hour. Still the lights kept going up.
The picture
The Marines on the hill wait — some sitting on rocks, some standing with arms crossed, all facing the bay. Wayne stands apart, watching the light show, jaw set. The sergeants are gone — just empty dark path behind the group. The tracers keep rising in arcs over the water, beautiful and relentless. The illustration captures a moment of in-between: the celebration is still gorgeous, but the waiting has begun to feel uneasy
07
Page 7 — the words
Then footsteps — fast ones — coming back up the hill. The sergeants returned. Their faces were not smiling anymore. "They come back and told us to take cover and not to come out until told to do so."
The picture
The sergeant rushes back into the group of waiting Marines, face tight and urgent, arm sweeping low in a sharp command to get down. His expression has changed completely from before — the lightness is gone. Wayne's eyes are fixed on him, reading every line of that face. The warm glow of the bay is still behind them all, a terrible contrast to the sudden seriousness. Marines around Wayne are already dropping into crouches
"They come back and told us to take cover and not to come out until told to do so."
08
Page 8 — the words
Wayne dropped. Everyone dropped. They pressed themselves flat against the rocky hillside. Down in the bay, the Navy still didn't know. The Navy just kept celebrating — gun after gun after gun, blazing away at the sky.
The picture
Wide shot from above: a row of Marines flattened against the hillside, helmets down, cheeks pressed to the gravel. Wayne is in the center, one arm folded under his chin, eyes open and looking sideways at the bay below. The sky above them is still criss-crossed with tracers — arcing up, beautiful and deadly. The contrast is stark: the men are small and still; the sky above them blazes and roars
"The navy just keeps celebrating."
09
Page 9 — the words
Then Wayne understood. What goes up must come down. Every bullet the Navy fired into that dark sky was still a bullet — still made of metal, still moving fast. "All those bullets that went up had to come down and they were coming down in our area."
The picture
A dramatic split illustration: the top half shows tracers arcing upward from ships in the bay, beautiful gold curves against black sky. The bottom half shows those same curves bending over, falling back toward earth — toward the dark hillside where small figures of Marines lie still. An arrow-like visual of trajectory. Wayne's face in a small inset at the corner: his eyes have changed — the wonder is gone, replaced by clear, cold understanding
"All those bullets that went up had to come down and they were coming down in our area."
10
Page 10 — the words
The lights were still beautiful from down there on the ground. But now Wayne could hear them — a whistle, a tick, the snap of metal on rock. All around him. He did not move. He waited. That was the order, and he would keep it.
The picture
Extreme close-up ground-level view: Wayne's face inches from the gravel, eyes forward, jaw locked. Around him, tiny sparks and chips of rock where spent rounds are landing — suggested rather than graphic, small flickers. Above, the sky still pulses with light. The illustration is mostly dark, low, pressed-down. The beautiful lights above make the danger on the ground feel more terrible. Wayne's expression is steady — frightened but holding still
11
Page 11 — the words
At last the guns went quiet. The order came: all clear. Wayne stood up slowly. His legs were stiff. The bay below was dark and still. The biggest celebration in the world was finally over. But it had cost something. "Thirteen men got killed that night," Wayne said quietly.
The picture
Wayne rises from the ground, one hand pushing off the gravel. Around him other Marines stand slowly too — silhouettes straightening against a sky that is dark again, the tracers gone. The bay below is quiet, the ships only faint shapes. Wayne stands fully upright now and looks out at the water. His face is solemn and still. The illustration is cool and dark — blues and grays — no more gold or orange. The silence of the scene should feel heavy
"Thirteen men got killed that night."
12
Page 12 — the words
Wayne looked out at the silent bay — two thousand ships resting in the dark. The war was really over. He had made it through the fighting. He had made it through the celebration too. He had learned that sometimes the bravest thing is the hardest thing: stay still, stay low, and wait for the all clear.
The picture
Final spread: Wayne stands on the hilltop, facing the bay. He is alone in the foreground, a silhouette against the wide dark water and a sky beginning to show the first gray of pre-dawn at the horizon. The ships below are quiet shapes on a still sea. The mood is solemn and calm — earned peace. Small stars still show overhead. Wayne's posture is upright and steady — a young man who has seen something he will never forget, standing quietly with it. The final illustration is peaceful but carries weight
"That particular day we were up on a hill and could see the ocean. There were about 2000 ships out in Buckner Bay. They had been told the war was over and they were so excited that they started firing their ammunition to celebrate. It was like a huge July 4 celebration. We asked our superiors what was going on and they went to find out. They come back and told us to take cover and not to come out until told to do so. The navy just keeps celebrating. All those bullets that went up had to come down and they were coming down in our area. Thirteen men got killed that night."
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