The staging area outside Boyle was the mart yard, and it was full.
Trucks came in from the north-west every few minutes, mud to the axles. Some were missing windows and one had no tailgate. Trucks went out the other way, clean ones, with fresh soldiers sitting in the backs of them looking at the ones coming in. Engines idled in a long line at the gate. Somebody was calling names off a list through a megaphone. Medics in hi-vis went from truck to truck saying *walking wounded to the left, stretchers to the right, left, I said left*.
James stood by the tailgate of the truck he had come in on and watched Brennan's section climb down.
