When I was in DC I ran into an old guy from Virginia. He told me he made it up the shingle (first wave), into cover, and his hands started to shake. He lit a cigarette and dropped it so he lit another one. He dropped it. before long he had a little pile of cigarettes lying there in the sand in front of him. He looked back out over the beach and saw all the dead men lying behind him, and realized taht was as far as he was going that day. He spent the rest of teh day pulling wounded off the beach and giving them his cigarettes. Figured just making it that far was all he owed anybody for a day.
I think he was right, myself. When you realize most of the guys in the first wave were really only expected to carry loads of ammo up the beach for the guys in the later waves, and then get killled, I think he did pretty good getting there, then pulling his friends to safety.
_________________ "I knew the jig was up when I saw the P-51D-20-NA Mustang blue-nosed bastards from Bodney, and by the way the blue was more of a royal blue than an indigo and the inner landing gear interiors were NOT green, over Berlin."
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