If I Can Just See The European

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.

It Was A Night When London Was Ringed And Stabbed With Fire.

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.

Swinging First And Swinging To Kill Is All That Matters Now.

There Is No Sense In The Struggle, But There Is No Choice But To Struggle.