I now know why men who have been to war yearn to reunite. Not to tell stories or look at old pictures. Not to weep or laugh.
Comrades gather because they long to be with the people who once acted their best; who once suffered and sacrificed, who were stripped of their humanity.
I did not pick these men. They were delivered by Fate and the military. But I know them in a way I know no other men. I have never given anyone such trust.
They were willing to guard something more precious than my life. They would have carried my reputation... the memory of me.
It was part of the bargain we all made, the reason we were all willing to die for one another. As long as I have memory, I will think of them all every day.
I am sure that when I leave this world, my last thoughts will be of my family and my comrades.
SUCH GOOD MEN!
