I’m supposed to be a normal, sane type person, but after you go through war and such, you become superstitious. I am convinced that somebody is looking after me. Now for example, when I was wounded the last time — I was wounded four times, that’s how lucky I am — none of them killed me. The last one was a terrible one. The arm flew off and everything else. It took nine hours to evacuate me. I was wounded just about noontime, but I stuck around until three, when I felt that the platoon was in shape, then I said, “I’m ready to go.” From three to midnight, because everything was on a stretcher. Today, if I had been wounded under the same circumstances, I would have been evacuated by helicopter and I’d be in a hospital within 30 minutes. As a result, in my regiment — the regiment I served in — no double amputee survived, because they bled to death. No brain injury survived, and that’s what the nature of war was like.