Do you know why no one remembers your name? It’s because no one wants to remember your name. There’s too many Smiths, DiMattos and O’Keefes and O’Briens, who show up here, replacing Toccoa men that you dumb replacements got killed in the first place! And they’re all like you! They’re all p*** and vinegar. “Where’re the Krauts at? Let me at ’em! When do I get to jump into Berlin?” Two days later, there they are with their blood and guts hanging out and they’re screaming for a medic, begging for their god**** mother. Dumb f***s don’t even know they’re dead yet. Hey, you listening to me? Do you understand this is the best part of the f*****g war I’ve seen? I’ve got hot chow, hot showers, warm bed. Germany is almost as good as being home. I even got to wipe my ass with real toilet paper today. So, quit asking about when you’re gonna see some action, will you?! And stop with the f*****g love songs!
That night, I took time to thank God for seeing me through that day of days and prayed I would make it through D plus 1. And if, somehow, I managed to get home again, I promised God and myself that I would find a quiet piece of land someplace and spend the rest of my life in peace.
It don’t matter where we go. Once we get into combat, they only person you can trust is yourself and the fella next to you.
Watch now on:
I’ve already seen the States, I grew up there. That’s why I came to Europe, just wish they told me there was a war on.
Dike wasn’t a bad leader because he made bad decisions. He was a bad leader because he made no decisions.
“I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day, when he said: ‘Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?’ Grandpa said, “No. But I served in a company of heroes.”[quoting from a letter Mike Ranney wrote to him]