The children drained my energy. It was as if they drew it right out of me. I was fine with that though. They needed it more than I did. For the first night in four days I occasionally drifted off to sleep for a few minutes at a time throughout the night. I would drift and then realize that I was falling asleep and jerk myself awake.

I tried to keep myself alert by fiddling with my gun. I loaded and unloaded it. Flipped it to the other side and studied it in the darkness.

It was silly of me to stay up. What could I do if the camp was attacked? This is stupid Micky! I fussed at myself. Just lay down and go to sleep! So I quietly laid my gun down and eased down onto my pillow. I hadn't laid down in a long time. It felt good for my body to rest but the fear of being unprepared consumed me and I began to panic.

I squeezed my eyes closed and let the tears fall down the side of my face, into my ear. I clinched my teeth so that my sobbing wouldn't disturb the others.

Peter

I heard the sound of crying in my dream. But as I slipped into consciousness I noticed that it remained.

I yawned and stretched out on my bunk. Micky was laying down for once. However he was far from sleep. He was crying and his eyes were squeezed closed. His hand was fisted and he was biting it, to keep from making too much noise I figured.

I sat up on my elbow.

"Micky."

The younger boy's eyes flew open and he sat up, drying his tears.

"Uh... Yeah?" He tried to act like he was fine.

"Peace, Micky. You need to find your peace." I explained to him lovingly.

"Peace?" Micky scoffed. "I can't even put my gun down without having a panic attack."

"You're focused on too much of the bad stuff. You need to think of something good." I smiled.

"Like what?" Micky asked.

"Something that makes you happy. I meditate and think about the dynamic of the current world. That makes me happy. Find something to focus on and stick with it."

Micky thought for a moment before answering. "The children." He said with a smirk. "The children make me happy."

"Okay, then think about them." I suggested.

Micky laid down and warily closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and focused on what made him happy. I watched him as he calmed himself.

"Please stay awake until I fall asleep..." Micky whispered.

"Okay, friend." I sighed.

I kept my promise and watched him calm completely and fall asleep. I knew he was asleep when a slight smile crossed his lips.

I smirked because I had helped yet another person find their inner peace. Inner peace was the key to world peace. One by one I hoped all people would come to realize this. This was the key to world peace.

I closed my eyes and dismissed each thought in my brain in its turn. I continued until not a thought was left. When my brain was empty I meditated on the silence and fell asleep as I did each and every night.

Micky

I was grateful for Peter's advice. I needed a good night's sleep and that is what he gave me. I focused hard on what all I had done with the children that day and before I knew it my fear gave into exhaustion. I almost missed roll call the next morning.

Mike had to shake me awake and pull me from my bunk. I was still tired, but at least I could think straight and I wasn't drifting off at lunch.

I tried it the next night, and the next. It worked. For a long time. I was getting better sleep each night and having better days following them. I now had the energy to run with the children and play. Mostly we played soccer. I would ask a few soldiers to come and make a team with me and we would play the local kids from the orphanage.

They usually whooped our butts! They were good!

The younger children would gather around my feet and beg for stories or magic tricks. I would deliver whatever they desired. I was always energetic, I'd give life to my stories and animate them. I'd do all kinds of different voices and faces that would make the children laugh.

I spent many hours of my day in the orphanage of Chi. The children helped to make me forget about the horrific war I was a part of. We'd already fought two "battels" with the Viet-Cong. They knew of our involvement in Chi and despised it. The Viet-Cong attacked us twice as we issued medical relief and taught the Southern Vietnamese to fight for themselves. I'd been absolutely terrified both times. I decided to stick close to Mike because he knew what he was doing.

He seemed to stick to my side as well. I could tell that he took care to keep me, Peter and Davy in check. If he couldn't find one of us during a fire fight or otherwise, he would search for us until we were all together.

Being close to each other every minute of the day made us a bit tense with each other, but we became close and learned how to live with each other. We looked out for one another and did our best to help each other out.

We did have our alone times though.

Peter would request time to meditate in the tent alone when the hustle and bustle of the camp became too much for him.

Davy's alone time came in the night and she had a name. Her name was To-Mien. A beautiful Vietnamese girl about Davy's age. They had become a couple within a week of knowing each other and their relationship escalated quickly. To-Mien would walk into our tent at nights and Mike, Peter and I would leave.

We could stay, but who would want to?

God only knows what they could be doing.

We would joke about him behind his back but the truth was, we were worried. To-Mien was rumored to have been a prostitute. And that would not have been an uncommon profession for a woman of her age. It wasn't just that she was a prostitute. To-Mien also was rumored to be spreading gonorrhea. Only one soldier had come forward but he was also known for sleeping around. He could have picked it up anywhere.

But that was how Davy chose to spend his free time and I couldn't argue with him.

Mike spent his free time strumming a guitar and scribbling words down on pieces of paper. I hadn't gotten up the courage to ask him what his songs were about. But I had a pretty good guess.

I spent every free second in the town of Chi. Whether I was in the orphanage doing odd jobs for the mistresses or telling stories to the street kids, I was there. I loved the villages' low clay buildings. Many of them were destroyed and the majority of people lived in houses made of trash. I felt sorry for them.

A little boy around the age of three always found me and stuck with me wherever I went. I didn't even have to talk to him or acknowledge his presence but of course I did. He was always quiet and would not smile at first but once he got comfortable around me he began to liven up.

I adored him. I asked him one day what his name was and he pointed to himself and said the Vietnamese word for boy-- Con Trai. He called himself boy.

One day he decided it was time for him to show me his home. He took my hand and forced me to run through the streets of Chi. He slammed to a stop and began to call out in Vietnamese. Con Trai was facing a trash house that didn't look big enough for even one person to live in.

A girl around the age of seventeen. emerged in the doorway. She reached out to the boy and he ran to her and hugged her.

"Em Gai." He said to me, pointing to the girl. He was telling me that that was his sister.

"Where are your parents?" I asked.

"No parents. I mother now." The sister told me.

"I'm sorry. When did they die?" I asked.

"Mother died two years. She kill herself after father joined Viet-Cong." The sister told me.

Con Trai tugged on his sister's shirt. He rubbed his stomach and whined.

"Con Trai hungry." The girl sighed. She petted him and looked sadly into his eyes. I could tell it hurt her to shake her head no. "But we have no food."

"Oh wow." I sighed. My mind raced. "I'm sorry."

"That okay Mr. Soldier. You not the reason for hunger." The girl smiled and directed her brother into the shack of a house. I walked away feeling sad and helpless. I had to find a way to help them. I just had to!