It was late in the day, William Byrns sat in an old bomb crater, covered in leaves and mud from the surrounding Vietnamese jungle. Byrns clutched his radio tightly, waiting for a response. When the response finally came, it was not what he wanted to hear, “We can’t get you ‘til tomorrow morning,” Byrns remembers hearing from the voice on the other side of his walkie, “I won’t be here,” he responded, just 10 days to go on his second tour of duty.
“I could hear them going around in the bushes, shooting, trying to scare me,” he said, “And it was working great.”
It was at this point that Byrns turned to prayer for the comfort he needed.