July 28, 1944

Well, here I am again and I think a trifle more promptly than usual. Things are starting to move again so I though it wise to write while there aren’t any guns to load or 88’s to dodge. I had a rather painful experience the other day. I was down at the diving board we had erected on the river. I was waiting my turn to dive when the chap in front of me lost his balance, tried to dive anyway and ended up hitting the shallow water immediately off the end of the board. I knew he had struck hard because of his actions, so came to the conclusion that he had knocked himself out. Without thinking, I jumped off the end of the board to fish him out before he drained the river. I realized my mistake as soon as I struck the bottom. I got a sudden sharp pain in my ankle that caused my leg to fold up. The worst of it was, the chap in question didn’t need any help and I became the casualty. You see, all the force of my fall was taken by my left heel. I got a ride back to camp and the M.O., after examining my foot, decided I had broken a bone. So, once again I landed back in hospital. However, an X-ray showed there was no break and with much talking I managed to get back to the regiment within three days. My ankle is still badly swollen and painful, though I manage to limp around. I missed the first big push through the Hitler and Gustave line and do not intend to miss the fun this time. --------