It was the kind of discovery that most historians can only dream about. After publishing an article about the Inchon Korean War campaign, author Thomas Fleming was contacted by the widow of Eugene Franklin Clark, who had led a crucial but little-known covert mission before the battle. Instead of offering a few secondhand memories, Mrs. Clark offered Fleming an original manuscript, a first-person chronicle that Clark had written and then placed in a safe-deposit box. Clark's account of his compromised foray behind enemy lines pulses with excitement. It justifies a WWII colleague's admiring description of him: "He had the nerves of a burglar and the flair of a Barbary Coast pirate."
It was the kind of discovery that most historians can only dream about. After publishing an article about the Inchon Korean War campaign, author Thomas Fleming was contacted by the widow of Eugene Franklin Clark, who had led a crucial but little-known covert mission before the battle. Instead of offering a few secondhand memories, Mrs. Clark offered Fleming an original manuscript, a first-person chronicle that Clark had written and then placed in a safe-deposit box. Clark's account of his compromised foray behind enemy lines pulses with excitement. It justifies a WWII colleague's admiring description of him: "He had the nerves of a burglar and the flair of a Barbary Coast pirate."