"How easily we use that word." Trapper muses over patients, deep into an OR session. "Dead. Simple as that. We toss the word around as if it's nothing, as if it's a preposition. Just another dead soldier, nothing wrong with that. Plenty more where he came from. A whole country's worth of youthful boys, in fact." He slams the next piece of shrapnel he recovers into the pan. "Dammit!"
The others work around him, accustomed to a war of outraged outbursts.
"Next." Trapper coughs back a scream and picks up his scalpel, as a new man is brought before him.