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"When did you start to smoke?" Mom asked.

"I think it was after a red alert." At her mother's blank look, she added, "rocket attack on the hospital. The explosions were deafening. Terrifying. Or maybe after a push in the hospital where men came in blown to shit. Who knows? One minute I wasn't a smoker, the next minute I was. It helped with the shaking in my hands."

"I see," her mother said.

"No, you don't."

"It won't hurt. Either way, you leave tomorrow. Here's your itinerary. Go. Rest. Drink cocktails that come with umbrellas. Sleep. I could be saving your life, McGrath. Trust me. I've been where you are. We all can break"

"What's it like? Vietnam, I mean"

"Words won't help, ma'am. I could talk all day about what it's like and you still won't be ready. But you'll learn fast. Just keep your head down."

Though many ached to charge, they matched the pace of the forward line, teeth bared unconsciously as they left everything of the world behind them. Every violent urge they had to restrain in the cities was welcome in that line, and some of the men choked back laughter as they remembered the strange freedom of it.

"I sometimes think life is nothing more than pain with moments of joy. You are stronger than before Julius, even with the wound. I've found the trick is to wait through the pain and take the moments of happiness without worrying about the future."