We came out of the jungle and through the wire one more time, wondering when some jumpy sentry, with too little sleep and nerves drawn beyond breaking, will pull the trigger, or an incoming round will find you. Each night the terror grows, but you keep on, because there is no other way. Without the information you bring back, without the coordinates of the enemy positions for the aircraft and artillery to target, all would be lost, the enemy would overrun the base. So you go on even when your body and your mind screams no more, you go on! You drag yourself from sleep, what little you can find, and you arm yourself. You tell your men that all depends upon the patrols they make, and you go back out one more time. Always wondering if this will be the last time. You know that if it isn't the last time for you, it may be for those you send into harm's way.
The siege goes on and on, it seems it will never end. Each day the outpost becomes more isolated from the main base. The hill must not fall to the enemy, for it would be the end. The advantage the enemy needs, a perfect emplacement for his guns and mortars to rain death upon the main base, and then the slaughter would be unthinkable, so you go on, you go once again into the darkness, into the terrors of the night. Each man operates alone in the dark, they go among the enemy positions where any mistake will be their last, they go with only their sidearm and knife for weapons, with only stealth as an ally, with fear as a companion. Each man doing his duty knowing the costs, knowing there is no one to aid him. Four patrols are needed, so you send eight. Some will not return. The information is vital, if the base is to survive.
Headquarters has decided this base must be held. Each day the price of holding the base grows higher, each day you lose more men, more men that you sent out into the jungle to die. Each night it becomes harder to send young men to die, but you must. You must, but it weighs upon you. When you try to sleep, the heat and the shelling makes sleep hard to find. When you do find sleep you see their faces, the faces of all those who did not return through the wire, who never will return.