I stayed around Hershey, Pennsylvania finally finding a little farm. A little peaceful corner of the world where I still live today. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of the men I served with who never got to enjoy the world without war.
We pull upon the risers, we fall upon the grass
We never land upon our feet, we always hit our ass
Highty tighty, Christ almighty, who the hell are we
Zim zam god damn, we're Airborne Infantry
I had missed Bastogne. All I knew was what I had read and heard around the replacement depot. That we had broken the back of the enemy, and the war would soon be over. When I was finally able to rejoin Easy Company, they looked nothing like the heroes who had just helped win the war.
These men aren't really concerned about the stories. They're just glad to have you as our CO. They're happy to have a good leader again.
Well, from what I've heard, they've always had one. I've been told there's always been one man they could count on. Led them into the Bois Jacques, held them together when they had the crap shelled out of them in the woods. Every day, he kept their spirits up, kept the men focused, gave 'em direction... all the things a good combat leader does. You don't have any idea who I'm talking about, do you?