I am in a hostile land. There is a war going on. With two other men (who are brothers) I sit in a crude rock shelter that looks like this: [drawing]. We are on high ground, overlooking a huge river. Between the three of us there is only one magazine of ammunition. Moments before, I had the opportunity to get more, but I did not take it. We are waiting, anticipating an ambush. Two Chinese come up the hill on horseback. One dismounts and comes right up to the open ports of the shelter. He has a samurai sword. I lunge my M -16 into his chest and pull the trigger. The sound is not the usual sharp staccato that I am used to. Instead, it is muffled and somewhat dull. The Chinaman hacks away at my arm and slashes it with his sword. But within moments-he dies.