“Why don’t you let me go back to America? You have got my leg, you know I can never march again. Why don’t you let me go home?” He was decorated with the Croix de Guerre, with the following citation: “A very good soldier, seriously wounded, advancing resolutely to attack a village very strongly fortified.”
I asked him what he saw down in the Balkans.
“I saw enough—so that I’ll never forget it.”
“Well what did you see?”
“I saw enough to make me sick.”
“Well, what did you see?”
“I saw boys seven and eight years old with throats cut.”
“How many did you see?”
“Seven or eight at least.”
“What else?”