Connor Neudeck

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I learned that those blood-chilling screams had come from the Japanese I had seen run to the right. He had jumped into a foxhole where he met an alert Marine. In the ensuing struggle each had lost his weapon. The desperate Marine had jammed his forefinger into his enemy’s eye socket and killed him. Such was the physical horror and brutish reality of war for us.
With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa
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