Ted Lavender didn't have time to reflect on his life when he was shot in the head. Of course, a shot to the head, one that obliterated the cheekbone and broke teeth wouldn't give someone too much time to think about their life as they died. It was a goddamn shot in the head, for crying out loud. But, before he was shot in the head, Ted was just another scared American boy among thousands in the Vietnam war, full of national pride and a whole bunch of nerves. As any other soldier, he carried whatever seemed appropriate as a means of killing or staying alive - the standard three guns of M-60, M-16 and M-79, grenades, more guns, gun attachments, plastic explosives, a pocket knife, rations. Dog tags were always slung around his neck, a way of identifying him, just in case he got his face blown off. He carried tranquilizers and dope to deal with the nerves. He carried thirty-four rounds (which was nine more rounds than the typical amount) and a starlight scope to deal with the e...