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.
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.
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 me war has become a flat, black depression without highlights, a revulsion of the mind and an exhaustion of the spirit.
If I can just see the European war out I think I might feel justified in quitting the war.
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.
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.
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.
One of the parodoxes of war is that those in the rear want to get up into the fight, while those in the lines want to get out.
Some day I'd like to cover a war in a country as ugly as war itself.
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