"He felt inside the steel band, but could feel nothing. Not surprising, as I had made it up."You won't feel anything like that," I insisted, "it was o...ly when the cuff was in place that it happened."He looked at me suspiciously, but gave me the benefit of the doubt, and let me click the cuffs in place."I still can't feel anything," he told me, "Now undo them and we can get on with some fun."I pushed him back onto the sofa, then pulled him onto the floor on his back, where I would be more. He immediately snuggled me into him and I felt his calmness cover me. He told me, "Lady Lucia, you really are the desert sun shining on us. Your radiance inspires each man here to honorable deeds he never thought he could ever approach, and every lady here hopes they will find your courage and prays one day they too, will find a love such as yours."I tried not to cry but failed; the tears trickled down and wet his jacket. "I'm sorry, Bob. I'll get you dried out."He laughed, "Not to worry, my. Emma, short for Emiline, was thirteen. She hated her full name with a passion and teasing her about it could make her cry, something her brothers did on a fairly regular basis. Boys being boys.But today she wasn't crying. She was happy. She skipped over the knoll until she was out of sight of the house. With a jar of tea in one hand and a sack of sandwiches for Rob in the other Emma twirled until the skirt of her thin cotton dress flared around her. The breeze blew up her armpits and between. It blew through the door and tore his legs off, and he bled out before they could get tourniquets going. That was in March. We lost another guy in April, a PFC over in Fourth Squad who caught some shrapnel during a mortar attack. He simply fell to the ground in front of me, and when I got to him, he looked like he was sleeping. Then I pulled off his helmet and discovered that a piece of shrapnel had hit him right below the lip of his helmet and ripped into his brain from the back.Those were the.