He's wearing faded, frayed fatigues, carrying an old green canvas bag in one hand, and a long, leather case in the other. He wears a strip of camouflaged cloth tied around his head, and pulled down level with the top of his eyebrows. His hair is long, almost reaching his shoulders.
While Angus stands there gawking, all the young Marines walk up the ramp past him. Before Angus realizes it, he is standing there alone, the last passenger to climb aboard. There were a few vacant seats left, but he decides to sit next to this late arriver. It might prove to be interesting.
Next stop, Viet-Nam.