To Hell and Back

Now comes the picture of mass defeat, the most awesome spectacle of the war. It is in the bent bodies of old women who poke among ruins seeking some miserable object that will link their lives with the old days. It is in the shamed darting eyes of the defeated. It is in the faces of the little boys who regard our triumphant columns with fear and fascination. And above all it is in the thousands of beaten, dusty soldiers who stream along the roads towards the stockades. Their feet clump wearily, mechanically, hopelessly on the still endless road of war. They move as haggard, gray masses, in which the individual had neither life nor meaning. It is impossible to see in these men the quality that made them stand up and fight like demons out of hell a few shorts months ago.

Perhaps it is the knowledge that we carry in our hearts that nobody ultimately wins. Somewhere we all go down. Force used tyrannically is our common enemy. Why align ourselves with it in whatever shape or fashion.

major paused in his jeep. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you sick, soldier?” “Nosir. I’m just spilling my guts for the hell of it.” “Maybe you’d better report to the medics.

Now I have shed my first blood. I feel no qualms; no pride; no remorse. There is only a weary indifference that will follow me throughout the war.

Suddenly I see the comedy of little men, myself included, who are pitted against a riddle that is as vast and indifferent as the blue sky above us. (pg. 170)

...and, without once looking back, walk down the road through the forest. If the Germans want to shoot me, let them. I am too weak from fear and exhaustion to care.

My country. America! That is it. We have been so intent on death that we have forgotten life. And now suddenly life faces us. I swear to myself that I will measure up to it. I may be branded by war, but I will not be defeated by it.

You’ll report nobody,” says Kerrigan in a voice trembling with rage. “Up here we don’t run to headquarters with our problems.” “I know regulations. A noncom–” “We left regulations in the rear. They were too goddamned heavy to carry.

It don’t work,” Martinez declares. “I know an old girl who’s had dirt on her face from the time she got out of diapers; and she’s still as ugly as a horny toad. Lives in Fort Worth.” “Is