Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters
and
Easy Company Soldier: The Legendary Battles of a Sergeant from World War II's "Band of Brothers"
I just finished Winters book over the weekend and it was interesting to see his take on the history and the differences between what he lingered on and what Ambrose talked about. Now I am reading the book by Malarkey. A passage caught my eye.
Assault on Foye after Bastogne was secured.
That part of the book is just one of many that struck me about how awful war really is. We get facinated by it, but there is such a heavy toll paid by those who fight it and endure it.Our platoon continued to work our wan in. We found cover behind an outbuilding. I heard German gunfire from an adjacent outbuilding, apparently coming from a single soldier. Breathing heavily, I looked at the corporal next to me.
"I'll get him." I said, my back to the building. I inched sideways, getting ready to spin around the corner and open fire.
"Sarge, you're in charge of this outfit," the corporal said. "I'll go."
Reluctantly, I nodded a yes. He stuck his head around the corner of the building. Pfffft. A bullet killed him instantly, a yard from where I stood. Angered, I hopped over him, dashed around the corner, and opened fire with my tommy gun. There was a German soldier in the barn window, obviously the guy who'd just killed that corporal. I mowed him down, then came up on the barn itself. I poled my head inside. My heard was pounding.
"Anybody else in here need killing?" I yelled. No movement. I looked around to make sure nobody was hiding, then relaxed, assured I was safe. I saw the soldier I'd just killed, sprawled on the barn floor, helmet off. Two or three bullets had bloodied his chest, which against his gray uniform, looked more crimson than red. Damn, he looked so young. I bent over and found his soldier's record-the Germans called them pay books-and glanced at it. Holy mother of God, this kid was only sixteen years old. Looking back, it was like the time as a kid I'd shot what I thought was my first quail. Only, when I ran to where it had nose-dived into some tall grass, I realized it wasn't a quail after all, but a robin. I felt like two cents.
The kid was probably part of Hitler Youth. He'd had no choice in all this. Just swept up in a madman's pursuit of evil. I looked at his face, eyes fixed forever. A face that I wouldn't forget. Not the next next day. Not the next month. Not ever. I tucked his pay book in my pocked and moved on.
