The battle at Albany was portrayed as a tumult of confusion, with men getting hit left and right. Probably the most disturbing instances mentioned were of men getting shoveled up into their ponchos after they'd been blown to pieces or of the sounds of American wounded being executed by the VC. Almost makes me want to become a pacifist.
Several times in the book, there are instances where the quoted words of individuals surprised me in registering these beyond-terrible acts to fellow human beings, but then continuing to function: "The enemy were killing our wounded. When the relief patrol came in it was from my south, I think." Many moments such as this shock me with the detachment through they regard these acts, yet they keep going. I'm starting to get the picture that there is nothing else to do but to keep going. Your duty is always the same. To disregard a portion of your humanity is the Faustian pact for military competence.
Luck was also a notable presence on the battlefield. Braveboy's story of survival after several days, or Sergeant's Kluge's men not getting shot up while they were carrying wounded with their rifles on their backs were undeniably lucky. No matter how good or bad a soldier you are, blind luck will have a good say in what happens. So, in that case, there is no need to worry about what you can't control. The last thing I want, however, is for something bad to happen that I could have controlled but wasn't competent enough to do it.
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