"Ah, these must be pictures from your son, the Marine."
"Yes. This is a formation at dawn, in preparation for a long hike through the desert."
"Which one is Bobby?"
"I wish he'd gotten someone to take pictures of him in his lieutenant's regalia, but all I got were the shots he took of the men of his platoon."
"Men? No offense, but they look like boys, don't they?"
"That's precisely what I thought when they came in the mail from Twentynine Palms. And there's something so touching about these fresh young faces. I remember feeling a special pride, which was immediately tempered by my fear that he, they, might eventually get 'In harms way,' as they like to put it."
"But you said earlier that Bobby was in the service between wars."
"Yes, that was a great stroke of luck. Somebody obviously was looking out for the lad."