The American Soldier Is Quick In Adapting

Somebody Said That Carrier Pilots Were The Best In The World, And They Must Be Or There Wouldn't Be Any Of Them Left Alive.

I've Been Immersed In It Too Long. My Spirit Is Wobbly And My Mind Is Confused. The Hurt Has Become Too Great.

The American Soldier Is Quick In Adapting Himself To A New Mode Of Living. Outfits Which Have Been Here Only Three Days Have Dug Vast Networks Of Ditches Three Feet Deep In The Bare Brown Earth. They Have Rigged Up A Light Here And There With A Storage Battery.

The Closest Fires Were Near Enough For Us To Hear The Crackling Flames And The Yells Of Firemen. Little Fires Grew Into Big Ones Even As We Watched. Big Ones Died Down Under The Firemen's Valor Only To Break Out Again Later.

For A Lifetime I Had Bathed With Becoming Regularity, And Thought The World Would Come To An End Unless I Changed My Socks Every Day. But In Africa I Sometimes Went Without A Bath For Two Months, And I Went Two Weeks At A Time Without Even Changing My Socks. Oddly Enough, It Didn't Seem To Make Much Difference.