It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times... Blood, guts, flesh, and dust sprayed the men in the trenches. Wilson “Will” McNab had witnessed his brother-in-arms die following an earth-shattering explosion that tore off half the poor boy’s body. Will McNab’s fatigues were dark with Kyle Friesen’s blood. It was warm but it left him shivering with cold—the cold chill of death. That frightfully sickening feeling that your own end was drawing near. Screams of pain filled the air and the ground was muddy—not with water, but with blood. The sky was thick and dark with smoke, hiding the sun. The sound of gunfire and the smell of gunpowder was in the air. It made Will think of the Spartans, centuries ago, who took a bold last stand against the fearsome might of Xerxes at the pass of Thermopylae. The Persians had bragged that their numerous arrows would blot out the sun. The Spartans’ answer: Then we will fight in the shade.

His throat rumbled with a quiet chuckle that grew louder until it became a hearty laugh—a laugh that could be described as one belonging to a man who had just experienced a major victory after a dire and hopeless situation that seemed to have no way out. His body shook with uncontrollable laughter.

Annoyed, his captain, Capt. Ian Croy tried to shut him up.

“What the bloody goddamn hell do you find funny about our situation? Care to enlighten us, Private?”

“Nothing, sir! I was just...thinking about the Spartans and how they said they would fight in the shade,” young Pvt. McNab said, gesturing with an open hand to the darkened sky and the red sun barely visible behind it.

The scruffy army captain grinned, smiled, and let himself be carried away with McNab’s laughter. The boy was smart. The captain did realize how very similar their situation was to the Spartans at Thermopylae. Their Vietnamese foes outnumbered them like the Persians outnumbered the Spartans. Pretty soon, the whole company was laughing.

There were moments like these. Moments of peace and quiet in between the bursts of explosion. In these quiet moments, in the calm before the storm, most of the company tried to live life as though there was no war. No death. No gunfire and mortar and shrapnel. No bombs. No minefields. No VC.

A friend of Will McNab’s, Jackson Ashmore, told jokes, making everyone in the trench howl with laughter. Four others were playing cards. Pvt. Nathan Levang was recounting his boyhood in Minnesota and in Kansas. Another soldier was playing a medley of Nearer My God To Thee and Just A Closer Walk With Thee on his pennywhistle.

Willie McNab was singing a song in his head about another soldier long ago—another soldier named Willie. Willie McBride... When he got to the second verse, he tore up. Did you leave there a wife or a sweetheart behind? In some faithful heart, is your memory enshrined?

His thoughts flew towards home and a girl he had left behind... A girl named Abigail Mack. It made him think of his late friend, Kyle Friesen, and how he was unable to say goodbye to his Lisa. Willie McNab hoped and prayed that the same thing would not happen to him and Abigail.

Wiping the hot tears that were falling fast with his uniform sleeve, he resolved to write Abigail a letter. Pulling out a notebook from his pack, he proceeded.

My Dearest Abigail,

This is a very dark point in my life, both figuratively and literally. I see nothing but death and darkness around me. The air is full of thick smoke—I’ve been choking quite a lot. There’s a depression that’s settling down on us like a blanket. We’re dropping like flies left and right. I lost a good friend today. His body split in half from the waist down. (Sorry! Don’t mean to be so morbid...)

I don’t know if I’ll make it—if I can pull through. Who knows? It’s gotten to the point where nobody knows when their time is up. We’re all living on the edge.

But you know what? Through all this darkness, I can see light. It’s always with me—you. You’re my light. You’re here with me in this putrid, blood-splattered trench. You’re the light that dispels the darkness in my life. I guess you could say you’re my Eärendil. My most beloved Star...

You’ve always been my light, at every point in my life, since I first met you. And maybe even in death, you’ll still be my light. Maybe you’re the light that I’m going to see when I enter that cold, dark tunnel they often tell us every dying person passes through. Maybe I’ll see you there... At the end...

And in the next life, in our next existence, you’ll be my light. Always. One light, a thousand lifetimes. Maybe that’s how it’s always been. Maybe we’ve been each other’s lights in our former lifetimes. And the light of our love is so strong that it allows us to find each other again, no matter how many lifetimes we go through.

I don’t wanna die—I don’t. But because of the strength your light gives me, I can handle even Death itself when it finally stares me in the face.

So goodbye, Estel... My hope, my light... My love... My Abigail...

If I don’t survive this night, I will meet you in our next life. I will meet you in a thousand lifetimes. I will follow the light, your light, and let it lead me to you. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over again.

I love you.

Come what may.

Will

Dawn... The brook gurgled on a peaceful morning; a lark sat, singing on a branch. Those were the last vestiges of the calm the boys had been blessed with. Soon that very calm would be shattered. The storm would blow full force, with gale force winds. Many would fall. Brother would soon follow brother into the deep, dark Valley of the Shadow of Death.

From the glooming peace, a sharp cry was heard. “Tấn công! Tấn công!”

They came like a mighty rushing wind, breaking through the cover of foliage that hid them. Sounds of gunfire filled the cool morning air. Bodies dropped like felled trees. Screams of pain and agony pierced the air.

“Fire!” Will heard Capt. Croy’s command. “Fire! Take those VC rats down!”

Time seemed to slow for Will in that moment. His heart raced like a galloping horse as he fed the attacking Vietcong with bullet after bullet from his rifle. He watched, like a film in slow-motion, as enemy after enemy fell. And then...

He felt a sharp pain pierce his neck. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He put a hand to his neck and felt blood. Warm, sticky, crimson blood. He was no medical student, but he knew. Knew exactly where he was hit. His carotid artery. He knew it was the end for him. He closed his eyes and sighed.

From his lips came one last word... Abigail...