CPT Jeff Leonard of the California National Guard is still working as a combat stress counselor in Iraq. In today’s column, part III of a long report about working a platoon with deaths, we learn that sometimes reality interferes with the best plans, whether it’s driving in a convoy with no radio, or attending a memorial.

When the two sergeants who had been standing with us by the vehicles ran off to find someone, Maj. Johns turned to me and said, "This is all pretty fucked up don't you think, Leonard?"

"Eh," I replied, indifferently and avoided eye contact.

Maj. Johns looked at the soldiers running around us and the ones on the truck, trying to mount the 240-Bravo. Turning back to me, he said, "I'm finding it hard to keep much confidence in these guys right now."

"Don't worry sir, these guys are killers," I replied, turning to look at him now.

"Killers? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means these guys would love to kill the enemy to save you, themselves, or the guys next to them. That, and they know how to do it. These are the people you want to be traveling with out here," I said, and looked him sternly in the eye.

Parts I and II preceded this report and set up the whole tale.