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"
You
ask
me
,
anyone
come
out
of
battle
not
actin
’
a
little
funny
has
a
screw
or
three
loose
.
"
Yonabaru
grinned
.
"
Hey
,
no
scarin
’
the
fresh
meat
,
"
I
protested
.
I
wasn
’
t
actually
scared
,
but
I
was
growing
increasingly
confused
.
"
Just
look
at
Ferrell
!
Only
way
to
make
it
is
to
lose
whatever
it
is
that
makes
you
human
.
A
sensitive
,
caring
indiv
’
dual
like
myself
ain
’
t
cut
out
for
fightin
’
,
and
that
’
s
the
truth
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
see
anything
wrong
with
the
sergeant
.
"
"
Ain
’
t
a
question
of
right
or
wrong
.
It
’
s
about
having
a
heart
made
of
tungsten
and
muscles
so
big
they
cut
off
the
blood
to
your
brain
.
"
"
I
wouldn
’
t
go
that
far
.
"
"
Next
you
’
ll
be
tellin
’
us
that
Mad
Wargarita
is
just
another
grunt
like
the
rest
of
us
.
"
"
Yeah
,
well
,
the
thing
with
her
is
-
"
and
so
the
conversation
went
on
,
back
and
forth
like
we
always
did
.
Our
badmouthing
of
Rita
was
just
hitting
its
stride
when
the
sergeant
showed
up
.
Sergeant
Ferrell
Bartolome
had
been
around
longer
than
anyone
else
in
our
platoon
.
He
’
d
lived
through
so
many
battles
,
he
was
more
than
soldier
,
he
was
the
glue
that
kept
our
company
together
.
They
said
if
you
stuck
him
in
a
centrifuge
,
he
’
d
come
out
70
percent
big
brother
,
20
percent
ball
-
busting
drill
sergeant
,
and
10
percent
steel
-
reinforced
carbon
.
He
scowled
at
me
,
then
looked
at
Yonabaru
,
who
was
hastily
bundling
up
our
liquor
confessions
.
His
scowl
deepened
.
"
You
the
soldier
who
broke
into
the
PX
?
"
