At first he thought he felt bad because he was afraid of leading an army, but it wasn't true. He knew he'd make a good commander. He felt himself wanting to cry. He hadn't cried since the first few days of homesickness after he got here. He tried to put a name on the feeling that put a lump in his throat and made him sob silently, however much he tried to hold it down. He bit down on his hand to stop the feeling, to replace it with pain. It didn't help.
If we slide into one of those rare moments of military honesty, we realize that the technical demands of modern warfare are so complex aconsiderable percentage of our material is bound to malfunction even before it is deployed against a foe. We no longer waste manpower bycarrying the flag into battle. Instead we need battalions of electronic engineers to keep the terrible machinery grinding.