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I was stationed in our relatively safe outpost in the Caribbean when I learned that Benjamin had been killed in action some days before. Of course the memory of him warm and alive and at peace beside me in my bed was the first thought to wash up against the horrible news in my mind, as I stood there deaf and blind to the action milling all around me in the press office. Just that once, it hurt rather than helped.
But it also strengthened my resolve to make it through the war myself. After all, someone had to keep that memory alive and put it down on paper.
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