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The men were told that Currahee was an Indian word that meant “We stand alone,” which was the way these paratroopers expected to fight. It became the… - Stephen E. Ambrose
" "The men were told that Currahee was an Indian word that meant “We stand alone,” which was the way these paratroopers expected to fight. It became the battle cry of the 506th.
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About Stephen E. Ambrose
Stephen Edward Ambrose (January 10, 1936 – October 13, 2002) was an American historian, academic, and author, most noted for his books on World War II and his biographies of U.S. presidents Dwight D. Eisenhower and Richard Nixon. He was a longtime professor of history at the University of New Orleans and the author of many bestselling volumes of American popular history. In 2002, several instances of plagiarism were discovered in his books. In 2010, after his death, Ambrose was found to have fabricated interviews and events in his biographies of Eisenhower.
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Stephen Edward Ambrose
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Additional quotes by Stephen E. Ambrose
"Cpl. Peter Masters was a member of 3 Troop. Born in Vienna in 1922, he was there when the Germans marches into Austria on March 12, 1938, "so I lived under the Nazis for six months, which was quite sufficient to turn me from a kid that had been brought up a pacifist to a volunteer eager to get into the action.
Is it accidental that so many ex-paratroopers from E company became teachers? Perhaps for some men a period of violence and destruction at one time attracts them to look for something creative as a balance in another part of life. We seem also to have a disproportionate number of builders of houses and other things in the group we see at reunions.
On the edge of town, Fitzgerald saw a sight “that has never left my memory. It was a picture story of the death of one 82nd Airborne trooper. He had occupied a German foxhole and made it his personal Alamo. In a half circle around the hole lay the bodies of nine German soldiers. The body closest to the hole was only three feet away, a potato masher [grenade] in its fist.II The other distorted forms lay where they had fallen, testimony to the ferocity of the fight. His ammunition bandoliers were still on his shoulders, empty of M-1 clips. Cartridge cases littered the ground. His rifle stock was broken in two. He had fought alone and, like many others that night, he had died alone.
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