Take me to the Brig. I want to see the “real Marines”.
They’re on our right, they’re on our left, they’re in front of us, they’re behind us; they can’t get away from us this time.
Old breed? New breed? There’s not a damn bit of difference so long as it’s the Marine breed.
I want to go where the guns are!
We’re surrounded. That simplifies the problem!
Where the hell do you put the bayonet?
The mail service has been excellent out here, and in my opinion this is all that the Air Force has accomplished during the war.
There are not enough chinamen in the world to stop a fully armed Marine regiment from going where ever they want to go.