Robert Vermillion - The Road To Rome

Stop it, will you stop it! Oh, why don't you die?

Oh, dear Miss. Walter, please. I'll give you all my water, I tell you. You think I'd like to listen to you dying? Do you do you? Yeah. Well, I'm happy, sir. Oh, Roger, I feel sorry for you.

I've killed my best friend. Shot him down like a dog. Out there in the field. Like a dog. You never gave him a chance. My best friend, do you hear my best friend? Oh, sir.

Oh, sir. Oh, sir. Boy, you can talk all you want. Personally, I'll take a barrel of beer. Well, you can have your barrel of beer, brother. Personally, I'm going to get married when this war's over into the sweetest little gal in West Virginia.

Ah, you're off, you nut mitzv. Hey, but Mr. Vermillion. Yeah, Jim? Uh, me and Vic, here we go. Yeah, I heard you. You know, it seems to me that's all you guys ever talk about.

Mr. Vermillion, you're corresponding for the United Press, aren't you? That's right. Now, come on. Now, who's right? Me or Vic, huh? Well, I'd say you both right. Hey, what do you mean? We both can be right.

Sure you can. Get married and have your beer, too. Ah, now that's not what I'm going to do. Hey, get down, fellas, stick on. Hey! German mortars put a temporary end to that argument. We were standing on a crag at Artina.

At the tip of an American salience, pointed at the German defense line on the road to Rome. The lowest was a quiet valley centered with locust blossoms and poppies. At night, it sparked with fireflies.