Somebody said that carrier pilots were the best in the world, and they must be or there wouldn't be any of them left alive.

About every two minutes a new wave of planes would be over. The motors seemed to grind rather than roar, and to have an angry pulsation like a bee buzzing in blind fury.

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

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

For a lifetime I had bathed with becoming regularity, and thought the world would come to an end unless I changed my socks every day. But in Africa I sometimes went without a bath for two months, and I went two weeks at a time without even changing my socks. Oddly enough, it didn't seem to make much difference.

Our artillery... The Germans feared it almost more than anything we had.

The front-line soldier wants it to be got over by the physical process of his destroying enough Germans to end it. He is truly at war. The rest of us, no matter how hard we work, are not.