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War can be hell, he thought, as he marshaled his men out of the bunker, saying all the while: “Please, men, let’s go this way” and, “Careful of that gnarled root there Gregson…yeah the one close to your left boot; you don't want to twist your ankle,” and “No, George – doggone it, George, you’re going in the wrong direction,” and “No, Bartley, I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did to Simmons,” and “Come one, guys, please let’s go over that hill there,” he said and, finally: “It’s only a fingernail, Smyth, it’ll heal in time…I promise.”
Don
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