McDonough writes honestly and vividly of his transition from a green, wide-eyed newcomer, in awe of the fate awaiting him, to a seasoned combat veteran. Becoming a good leader meant confronting his personal fears of death and disfigurement. It meant establishing authority over the men of his platoon and gaining their trust. It meant coming to grips with the morality of a leader's position, as he made decisions that determined life or death. And it meant accepting the loneliness of command.

The new lieutenant strengthens his platoon position and initiates aggressive patrolling, day and night, to protect the village and stop enemy movement. But "Charlie" is a clever and devious enemy. The rice paddies and thick underbrush hide ambushes, booby traps and snipers. The gruesome toll of the booby traps wears on the nerves of his soldiers who know that one misstep can send hot metal tearing through their flesh. The pressures of leadership weigh heavily on Lieutenant McDonongh as he struggles to meet his responsibilities to his men and their mission. Caught up in the savagery of war, he is not willing to abandon a sense of humanity. Yet in combat comes the chilling realization that there is a fine line between rational man and kill-crazed animal.