Private Ronas--
Brock
--
“He reminds you of someone, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t bring it up.”
“Private Ronas. Do you remember him?”
“He’s gone now. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Then why does your amygdala light up every time I pass over his name, every time you see Horokaida. Horokaida reminds you of him. Why?”
--
Eight years ago, my country set up an outpost down in Gaspul. At F.O.B. Inath, I met Private Ronas.
Eight years ago, Private Ronas and I served in the same battalion, the same company. We trained together as a team. I was the heavy machine gunner; he was the ammo bearer. When Ronas got stronger than me, we switched roles. I carried his ammo in the field and watched his back; he charged ahead and showered our enemies with suppressive fire. We supported a squad of fourteen other
