As if he were reading his platoon leader’s thoughts, Sergeant First Class Gandulf went out of his way to make sure that he kept Dixon in motion and headed in the right direction. “Sir,” Gandulf would say when he or one of the squad leaders caught sight of a senior officer headed their way, “If you have a moment, sir, 1st Squad is ready for your inspection.” Or he’d shove a copy of the platoon’s manifest in his face, asking loudly as he did so, “If you don’t mind, sir, would you look this over?” In this way the veteran platoon sergeant kept his new lieutenant out of harm’s way and, as best he could, taught the young and inexperienced officer what being an officer was about.

Of course Gandulf couldn’t be everywhere all the time. He did, after all, have things that needed to get done that didn’t require an officer or were best done without an officer present. When he and the squad leaders were off doing sergeant things, Nathan Dixon was left to his own devices.

There had been very little that Nathan needed to do to prepare himself or his personal equipment. Like all new officers he had sat alone in the middle of his apartment floor putting his gear together and combat packing it the very night it had been issued. Everything, right down to the spare underwear and socks secured in plastic food storage bags, was ready and waiting long before he received the phone call alerting him. And since he was an officer and expected to be squared away, he didn’t have to endure the spate of pre-combat inspections that his men went through, first by their squad leaders, then by Sergeant Gandulf, followed by Nathan, and, finally, by Captain King.

It was during these awkward moments that the young platoon leader found himself staring at the riflemen of his platoon. They, in turn, unabashedly returned his stares, looking up from the ground where they sat nestled upon their equipment in reclining positions that looked more comfortable then they really were.

It slowly dawned upon Nathan how little he knew about the men he was expected to lead. While making his way along the line of soldiers patiently awaiting the next round of inspections or the order to pack up and move out, he tried to find some way of joining in on the easy banter that those still awake were engaged in. Like strangers in a big city who were unsure of the other’s intentions, Nathan exchanged glances with the men who were expected to follow him wherever Captain King’s orders took them. These troopers, the privates and specialists whose sole purpose in life was to physically gain and hold whatever ground their superiors designated, came from societies and cultures that were worlds apart from the one in which Nathan had been raised.