Edgar D. Whitcomb

“When the mess truck moved on, we made our way back to my gun position and sat on the edge of the innerspring mattress with our feet dangling into the trench as we ate our supper. There was the usual amount of shelling during the night, and with each series of blasts we would roll off the mattress into the trench and hug the”
― Edgar D. Whitcomb, Escape From Corregidor