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To the man entering his first action there is no shape, no reason, no direction to battle. Almost everything is bewildering, or frightening, or both. The sounds have no beginnings and no ends. One goes through one's first taste of fire almost automatically if one is fortunate, or by an almost superhuman effort of will. But then, after the first hours or days have passed, and he has survived, a man analyzes his fears, charts and maps all threats to his life and to his effectiveness as a soldier. He begins to separate the sounds, categorize the dangers. He learns to differentiate sounds that bullets make when they scream or crack past him. He memorizes deep in him the differences between a shell ripping toward him and a bomb tearing downward...
Edwin Rolfe, The Lincoln Battalion, New York, 1939, p. 34.
TIME: mid 1930's
PLACE: Spain
CIRCUMSTANCE: Spanish Civil War
The aviation was different. We first heard a low hum. It was low but very strong and it was coming from the Fascist side. It was getting stronger by the second and we knew we were in for it. It was a roar that filled the air you were breathing. It was a roar that almost lifted you up shaking. It was getting stronger and Christ! It was coming straight at you...
Then they let loose. That awful whistle, scream, and a rush of bombs, then the explosion.
Edwin Rolfe, The Lincoln Battalion, New York, 1939, p. 98
TIME: Mid-1930's
PLACE: Spain
CIRCUMSTANCE: Spanish Civil War
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