The mess tent was open despite the late hour, and soldiers milled around the door, stomping their feet in the cold night and rubbing their hands together to keep warm. As I stepped into the tent, I smelled hot coffee and tea, and beneath that the ever-present coppery stench of blood. Inside there were only the girls from the USO troupe, still shook up over the attack. I saw Ellie in the corner, running a hand over her hair again and again, a scared look in her eyes. Outside a solo shell burst in the distance and shook the ground, and a few of the girls jumped, one laughed, one cried. The others were too shocked to even respond. Which of them had helped Tommy? Weren’t there three men with the troupe? Where were the other two?
One is dead, I thought, dazed. Dead…the word echoed through my
