The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1945-02-01

Ernie PYLE that. The sand
was soft a n d
moist; Just the kind children like
to play in. The four Of us dug a
winding ditch 40 feet long and 3 feet
deep in about an hour and a halt.
The day got hot and we took off
our shirts. One sweating soldier
said: Five years ago you couldn't
a got me to dig a ditch for IS an
hour. Now look at me.
You can't stop me digging bitches.
don't ever want pay for it; I just
dig for love. And I sure do hope
this digging today is all wasted ef-
fort. I never wanted to do useless
work so bad in my life.
ANY time I get so feet from my
home ditch you'll find me digging a
new ditch, and brother I amt jok-
ing. I love to dig bitches"
Digging out here in the soft des-
ert sand was paradise compared to
the clay-like digging back at our
base. The ditch went forward like a
prairie fire. We measured it with
our eyes to see if it would hold ev-
erybody.
Throw up some more right
here" m of the boys said. indi-
eating a low spot in the bank on
either side. DO you think we've
got it deep enough"
1T don't have to be so deep" an
other one said. "a bullet won't 60
through more than three inches of
sand. Sand is the best thing there
Is for stopping bullets"
A growth Of sagebrush hung over
the ditch on n side. Lets leave
it right there" one of the boys said.
TITS good for the imagination.
Makes you think you're covered up
even when you amt"
That's the new outlook. the new
TYPE Of conversation. among thou
sands of American boys today. It's
hard for you to realize. but there
are certain moments when a plain
old ditch can be dearer to you than
any possession OF earth. For all
bombs. no matter where they may
land eventually. do all their falling
straight at your head. Only those
of you who know about that can
ever know all about bitches.
A Soldiers Letter.
While we were digging. one Of the
boys brought up for the ~thousandth
time the question OF that letter in
Time Magazine. What letter. you
ask? Why. it's a letter you prob.
ably don't remember, but it had be-
come famous around these parts.
It was in the November % issue,
which eventually found its way over
here. Somebody read it, spoke to a
few friends. and pretty Don thou.
sands of men were commenting on
this letter in terms which the fire
department won't permit me to set
to paper.
To get to the point, it was written
by a soldier. and it said: The
greatest Christmas present that can
be given to us this year is not smok'
ing jackets. ties, pipes or games. Il
people will only take the money and
buy war bonds . they will be
helping themselves and helping US
to be home next Christmas. Being
home next Christmas is something
which would be appreciated by al,
Of US boys in service!"
The letter was all right with the
soldiers owe here until they got
down to the address of the writer anc
discovered he was still in camp ir
the States. For a soldier back home
to open his trap about anything con
corning the war is like waving a rec
Gag at the troops owe here. They
say they can do whatever talking is
necessary.
Them poor dogfaces back
home," said one Of the ditch
diggers with fine soldier sar-
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