Peter nodded to Sloan. He tried desperately to separate himself from the despair and anguish he felt. The random unfairness of life always shocked Peter.
“Peter, we need to finish our business here and move on. We’ve got to get through to Holland, yet. Do you understand?” Sloan asked.
Peter nodded. He watched as Sloan bent down and kissed the assassinated little boy’s forehead, before he gently laid Kramden in the ditch and covered him with weeds. The hardened commando still harbored compassion for those taken by unexplained cruelty, and Peter knew that it was impossible to separate emotion from war.
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