The English solder was smiling, but his green eyes hinted at battle-inflicted damage, if you knew how to look. Sergeant Mortensen knew, knew his own eyes harboured similar shadows. They had all seen and done too much.
He would be shipped back to the States in a week, but he suddenly needed to know this man better, to encourage that smile and bring the light back to those eyes.
He held out his hand in greeting and it was taken in a firm grip.
Feeling the calloused hand, he knew he could find comfort in this man's arms.
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