There was a fellow who was an apprentice seaman in the British Navy. A kid. He got torpedoed and his hands were horribly burned. Just the same, he somehow managed to get into a lifeboat and he took his regular place and rowed. In the morning, his shipmates discovered that the flesh had been burned off his fingers and that he was literally rowing with the bones of his hands. This was probably heroism. But I'm not sure that a bombardier who gets a terrific stomachache just as he's aiming his bombs and nevertheless gets them off isn't a greater hero. You never know. In either case, you can be sure there was plenty of adrenaline being pumped into the bloodstream.

I was plenty mad. I pissed on the fire and beat on it with my hands and feet until my clothes began to smoke. [...] Guns, ammunition, clothes, everything. I really had a time with the ammunition cases. They weigh ninety-eight pounds and I weigh one thirty.

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