After an hour of the woman's laboring and pushing Klinger saw that his friend would die if she didn't have immediate medical help. Her baby was in breech position. Every time he placed his hand on this woman's stomach she screamed, and the baby kicked. He was obviously not the baby's father, but he would never forget the first time he first felt it kick. Klinger had been reaching over to make the mother comfortable as she lay down in a grass field and he accidentally brushed against her. She had laughed and pointed to her stomach and then to Klinger, indicating the baby liked him. She grabbed his hand and let him feel the baby kick. It was an intimate moment for complete strangers to share. But in a life and death situation, both persons were grateful for a brief moment to be unafraid. For a minute both forgot the seriousness of the situation she was in and shared a smile. Klinger laughed nervously as he touched her stomach and she smiled reassuringly. The baby just kicked repeatedly. They made a memory that would last a lifetime that may, for some, last only a few a few more hours. But it was a beautiful one. And then gunshots rang out causing him to snap back into solider mode. Her labor pains set in and also brought her back to reality. She let go of his hand and remembered her fears.

Poor little guy. You never had a chance. Just look at what you're missing. Gunfire. War. Prisoners. Hatred. Torture.

Guilt kicked in. That was no way to talk, if only even in his mind, to a little one. So he tried to replace such negative thoughts with more positive ones.

Trips to the zoo. Ice cream. Walks to the park with Mom. Arguments with classmates over a baseball card. Field trips. Pretty young things that would agree to meet you on a Friday night movie and have dinner with you before hand.

God, if you're listening, please let this baby make it through this. He didn't do anything wrong. He hasn't hurt anyone. He hasn't fought with anyone. He hasn't stolen anyone's weapons or invaded anyone's land. All he wants to do is be born. Is that too much to ask?

That same prayer dared him to believe that he was mistaken about the woman's length of pregnancy. He calculated that she might be as far along as six months, which was good news. (Maybe he was willing him to be six months along? Klinger didn't notice that he was now referring to the baby as a "he" rather than an "it"). If he could get the baby's momma back to camp, they might be able to get stabilize her and the baby. They just might be able to save the baby. The odds weren't good, but he could talk to Colonel Potter about pulling some strings and get him some top notch medical care. For the first time in three hours, Klinger had begun to feel hope. But he had to get back to camp.

Klinger put his hands on the woman's stomach, trying to feel the size of the baby. His objectivity was clouded by his hope for the child and by his exhaustion. It may not be the weight of the world on his shoulders, just the weight of a premature infant, but it was enormous just the same.

"It's going to be okay, honey. You have to let me try to help." Klinger whispered after he had taken a few minutes to rest. He got met with an unconvinced stare.

"Here, hold my hand. You can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you. Let me tell you about myself. I come from Toledo, Ohio. You'd like it there. I know I do. I'm going back there as soon as they let me. You'd like it there. " He stalled, desperately trying to buy time.

If he could make time stand still then he wouldn't have to make the decision to leave her all by herself. He couldn't even begin to imagine her physical pain compounded by her realization that he was "abandoning" her and her baby. She would be heartbroken and morified. There was no way he could turn back to witness her expression on her face. This was the kind of unimaginable horror that happened every day in war but in no way was no consolation. He could make it back to camp in 45 minutes. But he would have to make the trip alone. If he did he could return with help, and deliver there if need be, maybe even with Margaret. He just couldn't do this by himself. Once again the woman was bleeding some more. There was no time to think about his decision. It was time to start walking to camp. He just prayed that she could somehow forgive him for what he was about to do. He could only pray that God would watch over the two of them as he journeyed though the hazards of Korea.

"No! Nooooo!" He could hear the cries of the desperate woman, but could not do anything to help her. He bit his lip, remembering why he was doing what he was doing. Her cries were breaking his heart.

"No, Match!"

He quickened his pace as fast as he could, until he could no longer hear her.