Diary of Pvt. Henry Grossman
The Argonne Forest, that terrible tangle of underbrush, so dense that it was all one could do to cut one’s way through, of ravines and hills, of the lurking machine-guns that a man could not see until he was ten feet from them, of Germans clad in body armor, hiding there with their helmets camouflaged with twigs and painted green and brown.
— Pvt. Henry Grossman
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