Capt. P., the battalion surgeon, places a slender nylon noose around my neck. Attached to it is a loaded .45 automatic. He tells me to shoot myself. I can feel the fear turning into the necessity to resist. I will kill him instead. I probe the bottom of the grip; there is no magazine. From somewhere I obtain a .38 and shoot him in the head. However, recollection is unclear at this point, and this may or may not be the case.