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But
that
was
n't
all
that
went
wrong
.
Just
name
it
,
it
was
fouled
up
.
I
did
n't
know
what
was
going
on
,
of
course
;
just
stuck
close
behind
Dutch
,
trying
to
shoot
or
flame
anything
that
moved
,
dropping
a
grenade
down
a
hole
when
ever
I
saw
one
.
Presently
I
got
so
that
I
could
kill
a
Bug
without
wasting
ammo
or
juice
,
although
I
did
not
learn
to
distinguish
between
those
that
were
harmless
and
those
that
were
not
.
Only
about
one
in
fifty
is
a
warrior
but
he
makes
up
for
the
other
forty-nine
.
Their
personal
weapons
are
n't
as
heavy
as
ours
but
they
are
lethal
just
the
same
--
they
've
got
a
beam
that
will
penetrate
armor
and
slice
flesh
like
cutting
a
hard-boiled
egg
,
and
they
co
operate
even
better
than
we
do
...
because
the
brain
that
is
doing
the
heavy
thinking
for
a
"
squad
"
is
n't
where
you
can
reach
it
;
it
's
down
one
of
the
holes
.
Dutch
and
I
stayed
lucky
for
quite
a
long
time
,
milling
around
over
an
area
about
a
mile
square
,
corking
up
holes
with
bombs
,
killing
what
we
found
above
surface
,
saving
our
jets
as
much
as
possible
for
emergencies
.
The
idea
was
to
secure
the
entire
target
and
allow
the
reinforcements
and
the
heavy
stuff
to
come
down
without
important
opposition
;
this
was
not
a
raid
,
this
was
a
battle
to
establish
a
beachhead
,
stand
on
it
,
hold
it
,
and
enable
fresh
troops
and
heavies
to
capture
or
pacify
the
entire
planet
.
Only
we
did
n't
.
Our
own
section
was
doing
all
right
.
It
was
in
the
wrong
pew
and
out
of
touch
with
the
other
section
--
the
platoon
leader
and
sergeant
were
dead
and
we
never
re-formed
.
But
we
had
staked
out
a
claim
,
our
special-weapons
squad
had
set
up
a
strong
point
,
and
we
were
ready
to
turn
our
real
estate
over
to
fresh
troops
as
soon
as
they
showed
up
.
Only
they
did
n't
.
They
dropped
in
where
we
should
have
dropped
,
found
unfriendly
natives
and
had
their
own
troubles
.
We
never
saw
them
.
So
we
stayed
where
we
were
,
soaking
up
casualties
from
time
to
time
and
passing
them
out
ourselves
as
opportunity
offered
--
while
we
ran
low
on
ammo
and
jump
juice
and
even
power
to
keep
the
suits
moving
.
This
seemed
to
go
on
for
a
couple
of
thousand
years
.
Dutch
and
I
were
zipping
along
close
to
a
wall
,
headed
for
our
special-weapons
squad
in
answer
to
a
yell
for
help
,
when
the
ground
suddenly
opened
in
front
of
Dutch
,
a
Bug
popped
out
,
and
Dutch
went
down
.
I
flamed
the
Bug
and
tossed
a
grenade
and
the
hole
closed
up
,
then
turned
to
see
what
had
happened
to
Dutch
.
He
was
down
but
he
did
n't
look
hurt
.
A
platoon
sergeant
can
monitor
the
physicals
on
every
man
in
his
platoon
,
sort
out
the
dead
from
those
who
merely
ca
n't
make
it
unassisted
and
must
be
picked
up
.
But
you
can
do
the
same
thing
manually
from
switches
right
on
the
belt
of
a
man
's
suit
.
Dutch
did
n't
answer
when
I
called
to
him
.
His
body
temperature
read
ninety-nine
degrees
,
his
respiration
,
heartbeat
,
and
brain
wave
read
zero
--
which
looked
bad
but
maybe
his
suit
was
dead
rather
than
he
himself
.
Or
so
I
told
myself
,
forgetting
that
the
temperature
indicator
would
give
no
reading
if
it
were
the
suit
rather
than
the
man
.
Anyhow
,
I
grabbed
the
can-opener
wrench
from
my
own
belt
and
started
to
take
him
out
of
his
suit
while
trying
to
watch
all
around
me
.
