It’s unreal, like a movie, or photos in the newspaper, or Hollywood actors, although I know that’s not true, not really, but it’s easier, safer, to think of them as fake soldiers touched up with makeup, red-dye blood, it is easier, was easier, to pretend the war is a movie, but I know it’s real, because Phil’s real, and his letters are real, and now I wish I’d been paying more attention to all the Gunthers and Phils on the news, and I’ve decided to spend six months allowance on books of tickets for Disneyland and I’m going to tear out all the “E” tickets for Phil. . . .