The Things They Carried

I heard someone screaming it was Kiowa. The sound was ragged and clotted up, but even so I knew the voice. A strange gargling noise. I started crawling toward the screaming in the dark. Along the perimeter there were quick bursts of gunfire. Extraordinary, I thought. As I came up, a pair of red flares puffed open, a soft fuzzy glow, and in the glow I saw Kiowa's wide-open eyes settling down into the scum. Briefly, all I could do was watch. When I got there Kiowa was almost completely under. There was a knee. There was an arm and a gold wristwatch and part of a boot. I could not describe what happened next, not ever.