They’re bad news wherever they go. It was the first of August, 1943, and the Twenty-third Infantry Regiment moved west through the jungle of New Georgia. Slogging their way through steaming jungles choked with blood, heading for the main military objective on the island, the Japanese airfield on Munda Point. Digging out from the stone-cold tunnels of an underground tomb. To them, death is just a sick joke — a joke played on anyone dumb enough to stand in their way. Nothing is more important to The Rat Bastards as winning.
