He would walk, they told him. Eastward. And he walked. They’d all advance to victory. And he walked. He learned to sleep outdoors without letting his guard down. He learned to keep watch despite having marched all day. He learned to fall asleep the moment he laid his head on the hard pillow of the ground, despite the snoring and the sobs of a fellow soldier who, even in his dreams, was gripped by the horror of battle. And after each night’s sleep, he learned to face the next morning, the new orders, the new directions in which they had to walk and shoot.
