The hardest lesson Radar has learned in Korea, the one he still forgets sometimes, in his wishing so hard that it weren't true: you can fight as hard as you can and sometimes it still won't be enough. Soldiers die. People break. There is only so much a body or a mind can endure if subjected to merciless war without reprieve. And it's never the person's fault when they break; the only one to blame is whoever, or whatever, pushed them to breaking in the first place.

So he bites his tongue on any reassurances. He listens, cataloging the names, too, ignoring the numbers as they flit past. Father Cook sounds exactly like the kind of person he would've liked, yeah, and of course Radar can't blame him either for buckling so quick. And Jester, oh, Radar bets he would've fallen in love with her within days, if she looked like Dahlia and had Hawkeye's quick wit. Two good people lost forever, but two tiny sparks kept alive in Father Mulcahy's retelling.

"They both sound real swell," he says, soft. "...Were there any really funny pranks Jester pulled?"