2. J. Glenn Gray, The Warriors: Reflections on Men in Battle (New York: Harper & Row, 1959), 43, 45, 46.) The comradeship formed in training and reinforced in combat lasted a lifetime. Forty-nine years after Toccoa, Pvt.
Don Malarkey of Oregon wrote of the summer of 1942, “So this was the beginning of the most momentous experience of my life, as a member of E Company. There is not a day that has passed since that I do not thank Adolf Hitler for allowing me to be associated with the most talented and inspiring group of men that I have ever known.” Every member of Easy interviewed by this author for this book said something similar.
The NCOs came up from the ranks, gradually replacing the Old Army cadre types who quit as the training grew more intense. Within a year, all thirteen sergeants in Easy were from the original group of privates, including 1st Sgt.
William Evans, S. Sgts. James Diel, Salty Harris, and Myron Ranney, and Sgts. Leo Boyle, Bill Guarnere, Carwood Lipton, John Martin, Robert Rader, and Amos Taylor. “These were men,” as one private said, “who were leaders that we respected and would follow anywhere.”
The officers were also special and, except for Company Commander Sobel, universally respected. “We couldn’t believe that people like Winters, Matheson, Nixon, and the others existed,” Private Rader remembered. “These were first-class people, and to think these men would care and share their time and efforts with us seemed a miracle. They taught us to trust.” Winters, Rader went on, “turned our lives around. He was openly friendly, genuinely interested in us and our physical training. He was almost shy—he wouldn’t say ‘shit’ if he stepped in it.” Gordon said that if a man called out,
“Hey, Lieutenant, you got a date tonight?” Winters would turn beet red.
Matheson, who was soon moved up to battalion staff as adjutant and who eventually became a regular Army major general, was the most military minded of the young officers. Hester was “fatherly,” Nixon flamboyant. Winters was none of these, nor was he humorous or obstinate. “Nor at any time did Dick Winters pretend to be God, nor at any time did he act other than a man!”, according to Rader. He was an officer who got the men to perform because he expected
nothing but the best, and “you liked him so much you just hated to let him down.” He was, and is, all but worshipped by the men of E Company.
Second Lieutenant Winters had one major, continuing problem, 1st Lieutenant (soon promoted to captain) Sobel.
The C.O. was fairly tall, slim in build, with a full head of black hair. His eyes were slits, his nose large and hooked. His face was long and his chin receded. He had been a clothing salesman and knew nothing of the out-of-doors.
He was ungainly, uncoordinated, in no way an athlete. Every man in the company was in better physical condition. His mannerisms were “funny,” he “talked different.” He exuded arrogance.
Sobel was a petty tyrant put into a position in which he had absolute power. If he did not like a man, for whatever reason, he would flunk him out for the least infraction, real or imagined.
There was a cruelty to the man. On Saturday morning inspections, he would go down the line, stop in front of a man who had displeased him in some way, and mark him down for “dirty ears.” After denying three or four men their weekend passes on those grounds, he would shift to “dirty stacking swivels” and keep another half-dozen or so in barracks for that reason. When someone was late returning on Sunday night, the next evening, after a full day’s training, Sobel would order him to dig a 6 x 6 x 6-foot pit with his entrenching tools. When the pit was finished, Sobel would tell him to
“fill it up.”
Sobel was determined that his company would be the best in the regiment. His method of insuring this result was to demand more of Easy’s men. They drilled longer, ran faster, trained harder. Running up Currahee, Sobel was at the head of the company, head bobbing, arms flapping, looking back over his shoulder to see if anyone was dropping out.