And then there was Corporal Walter Gordon, his head wrapped in a large towel, his helmet sitting on top. Walter sat on the edge of his foxhole behind his light machine gun. He looked like he was frozen stiff, blankly staring ahead at the woods. I remember walking by Gordon without any recognition from him. I stopped and looked back at him, and it suddenly struck me. “Damn! Gordon’s matured! He’s a man!”
Walter was hit during the German attack at 0830 hours on Christmas Eve.
Richard Winters (Beyond Band of Brothers)