I had to operate on a little girl today.

Couldn't have been more than three.

Who knew a person that tiny could hold so much blood?

I never should've had to find out.

She was still conscious when they brought her in.

I gazed down at her, scalpel in hand.

What I saw broke my heart completely in two.

Her eyes.

I had never seen so many emotions conveyed in a person's eyes.

One emotion spoke out to me though.

Spoke out crystal clear.

I've seen many different degrees of terror.

This was beyond terror though.

It doesn't even have a name.

I blinked, and saw something horrible.

My Erin, my beautiful daughter.

Lying there on that operating table.

I blinked again, the Korean girl was back.

Swallowing the bile that was rapidly rising in my throat, I got to work.

Took at least an hour.

Dreaded every minute that was to come.

Knew that this little girl, this innocent little girl, might or might not grow up.

Because of me.

My hands were immersed in blood.

Innocent blood.

I suddenly realized that my eyes were swimming.

This was wrong!

This beautiful child wasn't supposed to be there!

She should've been enjoying her youth, in all its carefree wonder.

Bombed into nothing.

Her childhood, that is.

Her naivety had been destroyed by some heartless pilot.

Some guy who had the nerve to call himself a clean-cut American.

Would a clean-cut American try to kill a helpless child?

No.

He would look at her and vomit like there was no tomorrow.

Because there is no tomorrow for her.

I have to go to Radar's office now.

There's a death certificate waiting to be filled out.