title: Visions From a Foxhole: A Rifleman in Patton's Ghost Corps
author: William Foley
description: An absolutely harrowing first-person account of the 94th Infantry Division's bold campaign to break through Hitler's "impregnable" Siegfried line at the end of World War II <br />Eighteen-year-old William Foley was afraid the war would be over before he got there, but the rifleman was sent straight to the front lines, arriving January 25, 1945-just in time to join the 94th Infantry Division poised at Hitler's legendary West Wall. By the time Foley finally managed to grab a few hours sleep three nights later, he'd already fought in a bloody attack that left sixty percent of his battalion dead or wounded. That was just the beginning of one of the toughest, bloodiest challenges the 94th would ever face: breaking through the Siegfried Line. Now, in "Visions from a Foxhole, Foley recaptures that desperate, nerve-shattering struggle in all its horror and heroism. <br />"Features the author's artwork of his fellow soldiers and battle scenes, literally sketched from the foxhole <br />Look for these remarkable stories of American courage at war <br />BEHIND HITLER'S LINES<br />"The True Story of the Only Soldier to Fight for Both<br />America and the Soviet Union in World War II<br />Thomas H. Taylor <br />THE HILL FIGHTS<br />"The First Battle of Khe Sanh<br />by Edward F. Murphy <br />NO BENDED KNEE<br />"The Battle for Guadalcanal<br />by Gen. Merrill B. Twining, USMC (Ret.) <br />THE ROAD TO BAGHDAD"<br />Behind Enemy Lines: The Adventures of an American Soldier in the Gulf War<br />by Martin Stanton <br />
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  Prologue
  
  
  Bury him alive!”
  
  
  “While we still have the chance!” another cried.
  
  
  Three men with shotguns raced forward to level trembling barrels into the dark
  mouth of the cave. A pale host of others frantically slammed stones into crude
  mortar that yet another man was heaving in shovelfuls to wall up the entrance
  of the skulldike cavern.
  
  
  The night was close and cold in the darkest hour before dawn, and some glanced
  nervously at the enshrouding fog, as if expecting to behold more than mist.
  
  
  “Forget the mist!” the oldest man shouted. “He’ll recover quick enough, and we
  won’t get another chance!”
  
  
  A young man raised his face. “What about the Logan family!”
  
  
  “Dead, boy! Like the rest of the town! Now—quickly!—wall this abomination up
  before it kills the rest of us as well! If the thing awakes, I don't know if
  these rifles will stop it again!”
  
  
  The boy spun to the stones, slamming them atop each shovelful of cement. Now
  there were two men hurling the mortar, and t