Chapter ThreeEARLIER THAT MORNING, on the south side of Hue, Delta Company got word they would not be crossing the Perfume until nightfall. It meant a day long delay, and since the grunts were dug in and already resupplied, there was nothing to do but to bide time. Latimere longed to grab some badly needed sleep. Roark as much as ordered him to, but Latimere didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. The grunts were resting in shifts, and every time Latimere closed his eyes, he thought of Roark sitting at the edge of the foxhole watching him. He knew it shouldn’t have bothered him, but it made him feel cherry because Roark wasn’t sleeping. Besides, how could anybody rest with that racket going on across the river? Hardly a second passed that he didn’t hear fighting from somewhere inside the Citadel.
Howe
