Now that I have stopped going to wars I still struggle with the meaning of all those experiences.
Wars have dreadful differences, but also a dreadful sameness.
You sleep with the dead, you cradle the dead, you live with the living who become the dead. Seeing, looking at what others cannot bear to see, is what my life as a war reporter is all about. . . . Often in battle you think tomorrow it will be you, that you are going to be the one lying with your face to the stars. It is strange to think of a human body lying fixed in one position, staring at the stars without seeing. I remember being in a patrol when a burst of automatic fire brought down the two men ahead of me.