Ronald Speirs was a hardass. He pushed his men, expected too much from them, and put each and every one of them through the wringer.
But he also cared about them.
Speirs was fair, trustworthy, the antithesis of chickenshit. He was a hell of a commanding officer, and his men respected him. Some even admired him. David Webster was one of those men, and his letters home reflected his fondness and support of his captain . . . But it was the on the ink-smudged, water-stained pages of his personal journal where he allowed his heart to bare itself in shameless, unrequited honesty.
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