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.”