Extensive reconstructed conversations, reminiscent of Lester Atwell's classic Private, lend authenticity and immediacy to Felix's account of being drafted in late 1944 and sent to a battalion he leaves unnamed but is almost certainly within the 5th Infantry Division, part of Patton's Third Army. What really distinguishes this account is the quality of those conversations and of Felix's interior observations, whether he is describing, with restraint, a major's absurd grandstanding to German civilians ("He would be the first American soldier the Germans had ever seen, uncontaminated by the presence of some second lieutenants"), watching a loutish G.I. punch a married French patronne
who refuses a drink after last call, or listening to a squad mate's raw and politically incorrect description of mud. Passages like the following abound: "I suddenly realized: There are no tough guys at the front.... I liked the front because we didn't have to salute the officers. And I liked the front because we were spared petty, chicken-shit harassing by noncoms. But the main reason I liked the front was the fellows." Felix describes his war as "a profoundly 'good' experience" that still "sits, casting its shadow over everything." One need not be an enthusiast to enter that showdow's ken, making this book a good experience by any measure. (Apr.)
