I played Sherlock Holmes once. On night duty at the morgue
at the Santo Tomas former pistol range, a body was brought in. The body of an Army major, lying on the stretcher face down, with at least six .45 bullet wounds in his back.
The Japs had no .45 ammo, and such a tight group could not have been produced by a single assailant firing consecutive rounds because the tremendous kinetic energy of a .45 slug would have propelled the body forward, giving a linear group. He had been shot from behind by several men at same instant. Probably by some of his own men. To the rear stretcher bearer I said sotto voce:"What did he do wrong?"
"Took all of the Canadian bacon out of the C Rations for himself."