"Attention men!" A commanding voice boomed through the mess hall. "To your feet! You will exit from the far door and from there you will be directed to your barracks! Dismissed!" The commander yelled.

Peter and I threw our plates away as we shuffled towards the door. The Jones boy held himself and stuck close to us. Dolenz had gone ahead of us and was already outside. At the door a Lieutenant stood with a file in hand.

"Name?" The Lieutenant asked.

"Nesmith, Micheal."

The man handed me a piece of paper with a large number at the top, and a schedule at the bottom.

"It's the barrack number." He informed me as I stood staring stupidly at it.

I nodded stepped out of the doorway.

The Lieutenant asked Peter his name. Peter gave him the information and took his paper with a serene disbelief. He couldn't believe he was in Vietnam. He saw himself as a liar that everything he'd fought for was a waste!

He passed by me and we walked somberly to the barracks.

The Barracks were a series of green/gray tents with four bunk beds in each. A place to sleep mostly, but also a place to spend most of our free time. Which was almost none.

As Peter and I entered the tent we noticed that an oil lamp was lit. A soldier already sat in the housing. He was familiar from the back and as he turned around to greet us I saw that it was Dolenz.

"Oh hello!" He said with a smile.

"Hello." Peter and I nodded.

The three of us stood there awkwardly.

"I uh, don't mind where I get placed." Dolenz said nervously as he offered us first choice of beds. Peter wordlessly heaved his pack on the top left bunk. I pushed my pack under the bottom left bunk. The two of us sat down on our beds and faced Dolenz who had taken a seat on the bottom right bunk.

"So do you know who is going to bunk with us?" Dolenz asked with a certain amount of excitement. He sounded to be one of those, the glass-is-always-half-full types. I liked that about him.

"Nope." I sighed. "Funny that we three were chosen, though." I smiled.

Dolenz laughed a little. "Yeah it is."

We didn't have to wait long to find out who our fourth bunk-mate would be. A soldier slipped quietly into the tent and watched us with wide eyes. In the dim light of the oil lamp I could see his short, slim frame, and insecure stance.

"Jones?" I asked into the shadow.

The boy stepped into the light. "Yes." He said quietly.

"Well," Dolenz smiled. "What are the odds!"

"Very slim!" Peter added to the conversation.

Jones almost smiled.

"Where do I put this?" He asked holding up his pack.

Jones looked to Dolenz.

"Oh!" Dolenz stood up. "You choose." He offered.

Jones put down his pack and pushed it under the bottom bunk as I had done. Dolenz in turn picked up his bag and threw it up top. He then scrambled up and laid out on his bunk.

Jones unlaced his boots and took off his jacket. Then he drew up his blanket and curled up under it. He faced the wall and I thought he might start crying again.

I felt sorry for the boy. He was fighting a war for a country he really didn't belong to. Like Peter, he didn't belong here. I made it a priority to protect him as I would protect Pete.

I took off my boots and jacket and set them on the floor beside me as Jones had done. I leaned forward to blow out the light but a voice stopped me.

"Could we leave it on?" I looked up, it was Dolenz. He looked frightened.

"The light?" I asked.

Dolenz nodded frantically. "I'm terrified, Micheal." He whispered. I took pity on him and returned to my bunk. The light wasn't very bright, I could tune it out. Curled up under my blanket the light made no difference.

I was surprised that Dolenz was the one to beg to keep the light going. He seemed fearless and happy with anything. But I guess everyone has their fears.

It didn't take long at all for me to fall asleep. I slept deeply and peacefully with dreams of home and country music.