For me war has become a flat, black depression without highlights, a revulsion of the mind and an exhaustion of the spirit.

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

Thoughts are wonderful things, that they can bring two people, so far apart, into harmony and understanding for even a little while.

Marines have a cynical approach to war. They believe in three things; liberty, payday and that when two Marines are together in a fight, one is being wasted. Being a minority group militarily, they are proud and sensitive in their dealings with other military organizations. A Marine's concept of a perfect battle is to have other Marines on the right and left flanks, Marine aircraft overhead and Marine artillery and naval gunfire backing them up.

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

The closest fires were near enough for us to hear the crackling flames and the yells of firemen. Little fires grew into big ones even as we watched. Big ones died down under the firemen's valor only to break out again later.

But to the fighting soldier that phase of the war is behind. It was left behind after his first battle. His blood is up. He is fighting for his life, and killing now for him is as much a profession as writing is for me.