At least Peter was talking again. He'd stuck to my side like glue for the past month. I wonder what Micky said to him on their trip to Chi. Peter wouldn't tell me. I was glad for Micky anyways though. He'd given me my friend back.

However a new worry was taking over. Davy's health was rapidly falling. He refused to admit it and tried to fake us out. He told us all the time that he was perfectly fine, but when he thought we weren't looking, he'd grimace from the pain in his abdomen. At night and all through the day he would cough a barking cough. It sounded like he was trying to hack his lungs up. He had hot flashes at night that kept him from sleeping. One moment he'd be freezing and the next he'd be kicking the covers away because he was burning up.

Davy had stopped using the bathroom in the daytime. He'd wait until the middle of the night, get up and go to the latrine. When he'd first started doing this I thought he was sneaking out to be with his girlfriend, To-Mien. But when she died, and he kept sneaking out I decided to follow him.

I snuck out after him one night and watched as he jogged in his underwear to the latrine. As I got closer I could her him crying and taking heaving breaths. His crying was only interrupted by coughing. He sounded like he was in pain. I waited just outside the small building for him to come out. When he finished he stood in the structure for a while, until he stopped crying.

When David opened the door and saw me standing there, he almost had a heart attack.

"Michael, what are you doing?" He said with a hand clutching his heart. Davy continued to cough.

"I won't lie. I was following you." I said sternly. "Davy, you're sick."

"No." Davy said dismissively, and started walking back to the tent.

"Yes! You are!" I raised my voice after him.

Davy kept walking.

"I'm not an idiot." I said as I trotted up beside him. "Please go to the infirmary." I begged.

"Why? The Infirmary's for sick people. I'm not sick." He shrugged.

"Fine!" I threw my hands up. "Suffer because you won't accept help."

Davy stopped and turned to me. "I don't want to be sick!" He yelled. "You think I like being in pain all the time and only using the bathroom after everyone is asleep?!"

I was taken aback by his sudden mood change.

Davy went into a coughing fit before resuming. "I just can't go to the doctors. They'll discharge me and send me home. When I get home my father will ask what I'm sick with and I'll have to tell him I have a STD! Michael, I can't die with my father disapproving of me." Davy sobbed. "I just hope that I can die in battle here and he'll never know. I never thought I would want to die here. I still don't really want to die here, but there is no other way." Davy said and waited for my response.

I put a hand on his shoulder and brought him into a hug. Not too tight though, I didn't want to hurt him. I let him cry and cough on me for a moment before telling him that I was sorry, and that he didn't have to go to the doctor.

When I was laying on my bunk again, I began regretting this decision. What was I thinking! Why was I so soft? If Davy was discharged he'd be sent home, were they have better hospitals. He could potentially survive. His father would forgive him. I couldn't let Davy die. From the sounds of things he wasn't going to commit suicide but he might do something stupid in battle. I would have to keep a closer eye on him.

It was bringing me down, as it should, to think about my friend's sickness. I tried to remember what day it was. December 9th. Christmas was coming soon. I wanted to do something special for my friends. I thought about writing each of them a song. I already had one for Micky. His was a sweet song about a child that makes the singer happy. I was inspired by his love for children and by his personality. He reminded me of a little kid. He always brightened any situation with his unexpected understanding and love in such hard times.

Peter's was one I'd been writing since before he was drafted. It was a song I liked to call, For Pete's Sake! It was an ode to love. He would like it very much. I just knew it.

I hadn't thought about Davy's song much. I guessed I'd better start working on it. Especially now that I knew for sure he was sick and wanted to die. I got out a flashlight from my pack and a notebook. I began to jot down things that reminded me of Davy. When the list was through I read through it. Most everything on it had to do with illnesses. I tore out the piece of paper and crumpled it up. I started over and this time came up with a list of Davy's virtues. An idea for a song occurred to me as I looked them over.

I began to scribble lyrics onto the page. Once I had a satisfying outline for the song I closed the note book and put it and the flashlight under my pillow. I was without a doubt happy as I fell into a dreamful sleep.