My dreams last night were full of demons. I had dreamt that it was colder than now, which is quite hard to imagine. All of the boys laid before me covered by snow and ice. Their eyes were rolled up in their head if they were not closed. Blood ran from under them. They were all dead. Lawrence shook me to my side and yelled that we had to go if we were to survive. His frantics caught me off guard and I didn't move. He began slowly turning to ash, his pleas only growing louder. When he was completely gone, I peered to the boys. They too were heaps of ash.

  "It's just us," a voice called. I recognized it vaguely.

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  Angelo.

  I looked around and was unable to find him. My old unit from when I was in my homeland appeared before me. The unit's commander, Gabriel, stood in front, his hand outstretched. I tried to make it go away. I couldn't think of them again. I swore it.

  "Are you coming, kid?" the quiet question echoed from his life. I hadn't heard it in such a long time. I couldn't move. I knew what I wanted to say, what I should have said.

  But I knew what I had to say, "Non, je reste en arriéve."

  I awoke and could do nothing but break down. Warm arms embraced me. It was Lawrence. That did not help. I spent the day collecting firewood, mindlessly. My dreams plague me.