Those things that are precious are saved only by sacrifice.

Well, I thought, climbing slowly out of the slit trench, the shells will catch us above ground now. But if you have to go, you have to go. F Company’s in trouble, and we have to help them. We’re in reserve, so we have to go. And if we’re shelled, we’re shelled. There is absolutely nothing we can do about it.

Was there any meaning to life or to war, that two men should sit together and jump within seconds of each other and yet never meet on the ground below?