Thick darkness covered the building and the light scent of blood flowed through the air as Sergeant Saunders let his hand glide gently across his surroundings. Where was he? Where had all his men gone? The questions haunted his mind, and although he longed to know the answers, Saunders thought that perhaps he did not really want the truth at all.  Finally, he reached his Thompson but let go of it again as a sudden volt of pain raced through his head. He raised his hand to stop it, and felt warm, sticky blood spread freely across his forhead. I must have been hit by shrapnel, Saunders thought as he retrieved his weapon.
    Suddenly, a low and unexpected voice met him. Chip winced to retain full use of his eyes as he moved through the darkness toward the muffled sound in an effort to find the survivor. Getting closer, he heard the voice turn into sobs and the tone grow higher.
   "Billy?" Saunders whispered because that was the first kid's name that came to mind.
   "Billy?" He tried again but in a much louder voice this time. There was still no reply, only those continuing cries that refused to stop.
    Saunders wandered in the night until he saw what appeared to be a candle cutting its way through the darkness. As he neared the light, the sergeant could make out a young private kneeling down beside of the former alter, now just bits of rubble.
  "Billy?" The boy turned to Saunders. As he looked at the noncom, the soldier seemed so alone, his huge blue eyes reflecting all of the innocence of an angel. The private was not at all embarrassed and the tears streamed from his tender face.
    Chip walked up to the alter, noting the fact that a dead man laid upon the ground next to the younger man. Although the grieving infantryman said nothing, Saunders could tell that this boy had seen his share of the war, but no, that was not all. It was more, and somehow the sergeant's instincts told him that this dead man was the private's own brother.
    A sudden heaviness hit Saunders in his heart, a deep sorrow that he had never felt before. Dropping to his knees, Chip found himself kneeling beside of the wailing soldier.
  "I'm sorry." The tough battle sergeant tried to whisper, but uncontrolled tears fell from his eyes.
    The weeping boy reached out for Saunders and grasped him lightly in a hug similar to an embrace shared between brothers. As the candle burned on, its warmth fighting against the midnight chill, neither Saunders or the private were thinking about the war at that moment. The two held each other as true brothers in combat...regardless of their opposite uniforms.