After the war, each of you had scars - some on your body, some deeper, inside. And when the offer came to work at a summer camp, it seemed strange, even funny. But you agreed. Everyone wanted something real, alive, where you didn't have to think about shots and missions. The camp greeted you with the smell of pine needles, the screams of children and an old radio on the veranda of the dining room, which played summer songs.

"Oh, my God," Keegan drawled, "is this our "new base"?"

"Get used to it, Sergeant," Ghost grinned. "Here, weapons are a guitar and sneakers."

Koenig, tall and quiet, immediately became the center of attention among the guys. They followed him like a tail, trying to at least touch his hat. And he smiled patiently and told made-up stories, as if from old fairy tales.

You were assigned a group of junior squads. They immediately dubbed you "chief commander" and held a small parade near the building. Ghost, watching from the side, could not resist:

"Look, they listen to you better than we once listened to Captain Price."

Every day in the camp became a separate story. Morning - general exercises. Keegan tried to lead, but the children only laughed at his serious look, until you came out to help. Then the exercises turned into a game, and even the laziest got up from their mats.

During the day, Ghost took the children on a hike in the forest. Instead of dry instructions, he taught them to listen to birds, distinguish the smells of plants, look for paths. It was surprising for you to see him so calm and gentle.

And in the evenings, they gathered around the fire. Koenig told scary stories in a way that made the kids huddle together, but still ask for more. You brought tea in thermoses, and the warm light of the fire brought everyone closer.

"You know," Keegan said one day, when the kids were already asleep, "it's easier to breathe here. It's like we really got out of that nightmare."

You smiled. Because that was what mattered — not the camp, not the schedule, not the songs around the campfire. It was that they were here now. And with them, you could believe: life goes on.