I am with a squad of LRRP's; we are out on a mission. I have grown close to them, and am especially fond of the leader and second in command. In the morning, before moving out, I begin to dress; they leave without me. I am angry and struggle with either catching up or turning back. I return to the rear area and ask about the men. The leader and second in command have been killed in an ambush. A survivor of the squad, dressed in civilian clothes, relates the news in simple terms, almost cheerful, as though he were familiar with death in manner I am not. Still, I am overcome with emotion; less guilt than a sense of the impossible loss of irreplaceable men at the height of their youth. I wake up feeling very sad and speak words I cannot now recall.