American Valor Quarterly Issue 12 - Spring 2015 | Page 18
was the dividing
line on the road.
On one side was
the 2nd battalion
and on the other
side was another
battalion going
the same way,
clearing out the
German armor.
We started off
first at 3 a.m.,
and a soldier,
who started out
as my assistant
machine gunner
and became
a brother to
me – a little
Italian guy from
Winthrop – he
said, “Hey, Ed.
Happy Birthday,
buddy.” I
thanked him and
went back to my
post. I was to be
point man for
H company and observe F company
coming out from another avenue of
approach. We met head on at 4 a.m. in
the middle of the bloody gulch. I’ve
never seen so much firing from every
direction as I saw that morning. In
my mind’s eye, at that moment, all I
could see was my tombstone, with the
inscription, “born June 13, died June
13.”