It was a terrible thing to even suggest this, but many of us in the regiment felt that this was the definitive battle, that we were expendable. That's why we were called up to save them. But we felt that, if we did well, then the curse would be taken away once and for all. And so, you can sense this in the men: When you go into a battle and they put on the bayonet, you know they mean business. So we meant business. When you put on a bayonet, that's do or die. Our motto was: Go for Broke, which is, I suppose, a slang phrase that young gamblers used to use back in Hawaii. Go for Broke means All the Way. This was a Shoot the Works battle. That means you put on the bayonet. You're going to get them no matter what the cost. Absolutely. The cost was heavy.

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When I received my Distinguished Service Cross, I must tell you that I couldn't believe it. I said, 'What's this for?' They said, 'It's for all you did there.' And when I read the citation, that's when I got in touch with some of my former platoon members, and I said, 'What really happened? I must know.' They told me that, after I threw my grenade, I picked up my tommy gun with my left hand- keep in mind that my stump is bleeding now- and I just charged up to the third gun, and I knocked that one out. I was going for the next one and I got hit in the leg, and I rolled down the hill, and that's when I woke up, I guess. And when my platoon members told me that, I said, 'No, it can't be. It can't be. You have to be insane to do all that.' I think it's all part of the training where you do things almost automatically. It's a sense of duty. That's what they told me, and the company commander who was also observing from the backside, he said, 'I couldn't believe what I saw, because you were a crazy man.'

I was young and, keep in mind, you got the macho spirit, I suppose. I carried a Thompson submachine gun. Not because it was accurate- the Thompson is about as inaccurate a weapon as you can find. But it's got a loud noise, oh, ho ho. If you're on the other side and you hear all this- Brrraahhhh!- you know, it will scare the bejeebers out of you. And if it does it, you know you've been hit. It's a .45-caliber slug. I recall hitting a German once and in his ankle and his foot blew off, shoe and all. That's how powerful it is. I carried it for stopping power. I also had a sidearm plus a bag of grenades.