"Too bad Wilde never ironed that out with our command," Maj. Johns said. "Why didn't he?"

"Well, Wilde never came out here, that's why. He hid behind the rest of us. I think he felt like a worm making any definitive judgments about danger since he was using us to protect himself from all of it and we all knew it." I looked up to Maj. John's eyes. "And he knew it, too. And he knew that we knew it." I looked back down toward the ground. "Anyway, I was a little crazy in the beginning. I wanted to go everywhere. That all changed when I went home on leave and saw my kids. That's when Capt. Wilde's hiding behind us really started to bother me. It never bothered me before that because I didn't mind being the one who always went out. I mean, don't get me wrong. I always knew what a coward he was. We all did. It just didn't bother me the first few months."

Maj. Johns nodded.

"Hey, maybe we'll get lucky this trip and they won't ask us," I said and smiled at the major.

Maj. Johns and I walked over to the chow hall and after filling our paper trays with food, got cups of coffee and took a table in the center of the room. Sgt. Standish came in and asked if he could take a seat with us.

"Of course, man," I answered. "Have a seat." As he pulled out the chair and sat down I asked quietly, "How are you doing today?"

"Did you hear, sir?" he asked.

"About your lieutenant?" He nodded back at me. "Yes," I said.

He looked down at the table and didn't speak for a moment and then said, "I should've been there. Instead, I was back here with a pierced eardrum and a few scratches." He shook his head in disgust for himself.

"I heard he's probably going to live, right?"

"I think so, sir," he answered, staring down at his tray.

"Don't be so hard on yourself man." I said. He didn't reply.

Maj. Johns was sitting across from me and had a view of the entrance to the chow hall behind me. He seemed to be taking special notice of someone so I turned in my chair to see. It was Lt. Rivers and he was walking toward us. He crouched next to me and put a hand half on my back, and half on the back of my chair, to keep his balance as he crouched.

"Hey, I need you guys to go down to 324," he said.

"Okay," I answered.

"I'll let you know when I find out how you're getting there," he said as he stood up and looked down at me in my chair.

"Okay, man," I said.

I looked across the table at Maj. Johns who had heard the news. We exchanged a serious look at each other and turned down toward our food. I looked up at Sgt. Standish and he nodded and gave a half smile. "Those guys will be glad to see you guys down there, sir."

"I'm sure," I replied and started eating my food. Maj. Johns was still staring across the table at me. I felt the muscles in my face strain and tighten, like I was telling a lie somehow. I looked back down toward my food.

When Sgt. Standish eventually stood up and excused himself, Maj. Johns and I exchanged that serious look again.

After a pause I said, "So much for getting lucky, huh?"

"Yah," he replied and then we both looked down at the table again and quietly finished our breakfasts.

By the end of the day, we still hadn't heard anything from Lt. Rivers regarding our trip to Standish's AO. The sun set to the smell of burning trash and to the prayers of the nearby mosques echoing through the buildings just outside the patrol base. Sgt. Standish had returned to his company shortly after breakfast. I laid in my cot and stared at the ceiling until we eventually turned out the light and Maj. Johns and I fell asleep, not knowing if we would be awakened to get on a convoy in the middle of the night.

The next morning, Maj. Johns and I packed our things and left our sleeping bags and assault packs on our cots. By late morning Lt. Rivers had informed us that our trip had been cancelled because he could get us there but would not be able to get us back to our FOB according to our schedule. We were both silently relieved. I felt ashamed to be relieved.

As we lay in our cots that night, I said, "You know, sometimes people talk about war and they say, 'I'm not proud of everything I did' and we all think, killing people, maybe women, or civilians. But I think maybe, a lot of times, it's the little things that you're ashamed of. Times when you make little decisions based on fear, based on your own survival. Shame from that, you know? Stuff only you know."

"You're having a hard time with this, aren't you?" he answered.

"Well, I know I could have said 'to hell with getting us back on time' and we would be down there right now. That's what I would have done six months ago."

"We don't belong down there Jeff. It's against doctrine," Maj. Johns said.

"Those guys need us a lot more than the rest of them."

Maj. Johns did not answer and we laid silently in our cots for a moment, both staring at the ceiling.

"Little shames, little shames," I said.