Wild beasts In the front all the weapons were loaded. We sat there in the dark with not so much as a whisper. We could hear sounds outside—skirrs, rasps, the occasional yap, ting. We were alert, perhaps, too alert. Ready to shoot a fly for just being a fly. When you don’t sleep you start to hallucinate and that’s not good. One night this crazy notion started to possess me: I said, “Who are our enemies anyhow? We don’t have any enemies. What are we doing here? We should be with our families doing what families do. I’m laying down this gun and I’m leaving right now.” I knew there was a chance that one of them might shoot me. Instead they all laid down their guns and we walked right out into the moon- lit night, frightened, now, only of ourselves.

What is the central idea?

One literally device