What’s war like?” I was often asked, though what they really meant was “What’s fighting like?” Only once was I asked what it was like to go through it and return. Only a woman would think about returning. I looked into her eyes, and said it was like cheating on a woman you had loved for a long time.You loved her, you enjoyed her; you didn’t want to live without her. But then you meet this red-hot, fast-moving flash of eroticism; and she’s like nothing you’ve known before. You embrace her whole-heartedly, you plunge deep into her. And then it’s done, and you’re lying there — grinning, guilty, sweaty — panting your lungs out. But it’s not really over. She’s still there, will always be there, if you want her. But then you go back to your old love, because that’s the right thing. But nothing is ever the same again. She’s spoiled for you — spoiled by the fast-burn of battle — spoiled by the hottie who’s always there, waiting for you. And you wonder if life is ruined, changed forever. And it is.