War makes strange giant creatures out of us little routine men who inhabit the earth.

I try not to take any foolish chances, but there's just no way to play it completely safe and still do your job.

All the rest of us - you and me and even the thousands of soldiers behind the lines in Africa - we want terribly yet only academically for the war to get over.

Some day I'd like to cover a war in a country as ugly as war itself.

I love the infantry because they are the underdogs. They are the mud-rain-frost-and-wind boys. They have no comforts, and they even learn to live without the necessities. And in the end they are the guys that wars can't be won without.

I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

There is no sense in the struggle, but there is no choice but to struggle.