"Although I was affected by the horrors of Bastogne, I do not believe I was clinically shell shocked, as the series portrays me. In real life, while I was hollering for the medic, trying to figure out what to do, I remember two distinct thoughts: How are we going to help the wounded guys?...Maybe this is the time the Germans are really going to get us all."

“As young people, my generation would see a lot of death. I don't think I ever grew accustomed to it. It came in darkness and fervor, by our airplanes, rifles, parachutes, and tanks. But there was something about that first death I experienced the summer of 1939 when I was just eighteen, years before the war, that stayed with me so strongly. Those first few seasons after my father died were dark indeed.”

“The word "freedom" is rather generic today, and in my mind, sadly, an ill-defined term. Many people think it simply means saying whatever you want and doing whatever you want whenever you want. But true freedom is easy to overlook today. Too many of our fellow citizens are willing to go to the polls and vote away the freedoms of themselves and others simply because they have been convinced of the supposed worthiness of some social goal.”

“Sergeant Bill Guarnere sat with me on many of those nights. He was much more softhearted than he ever let on. In the series, it shows us together in a foxhole. In the background we can hear the Germans singing "Silent Night" not far away from us. I hand Guarnere a picture of my girlfriend back home, lamenting to Bill that she was finished with me- just in time for Christmas. I don't remember that ever happening, but this often did: Bill and I were supposed to take turns staying awake and sleeping. Often I'd wake up and he'd say in his South Philly accent, "Aw, go back to sleep, Lieutenant. I got it." I'd protest, but he'd always insist.”

“You have a tendency to think of wars as being fought in arenas set aside for fighting. But when you go through these farms and little towns, you realize wars are fought in people's backyards, stores, streets, and cities. It was all so very real then. It's real to me today.”

“In those first few days and weeks after the suicide, everyone we talked to was as shocked as we were. To this day nobody is sure what caused him to do it. I can only guess it was attributable to his sense of failure in overcoming the alcohol problem. The booze and the secrecy around it always caused chafing between him and my mother and me. I still bear a lot of guilt because of my conduct. What might I say to my father if I could? I'd say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't more respectful. I'm sorry I wasn't a better son. I'm sorry I didn't treat him with the warmth I should have in spite of his drinking problem. Certainly his good qualities far outweighed what few bad things he did with his liquor- especially considering today's atmosphere. What he did was so minor. So, yeah, I owe him a hell of an apology.”

“Sometimes the greatest signs of strength are demonstrated when you relive the hardest parts of your life. I'm not a man easily given to emotion. I hate to cry. Yet there are three things that cause me to tear up today. One is when I talk about the love I have for America. The second I'll tell you about later in this book. The third is whenever I remember by dad's suicide.”